The lair was quieter than usual. The usual sounds of bickering and banter were absent, leaving just the buzzing of the air conditioner and the faint sounds of Jupiter Jim battling yet another comical villain on the screen. "Mikey," with her vibrant teal shell dotted with playful yellow-orange designs, lounged on the oversized couch, a half-eaten slice of pizza in one hand and a can of soda in the other. Beside her, you were sprawled out in comfortable bliss, your own slice resting precariously on a napkin.

Life had always been a fun rollercoaster with Mikey at your side. From painting murals on the walls to pranking Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael—every day had been a whirlwind of color and laughter. The two of you were an inseparable duo, often scheming up new adventures or plotting harmless mayhem against her unsuspecting brothers.

But today felt different. The absence of your usual victims left a strange silence hanging in the air, making it feel as if something buoyant was just waiting to be unleashed. The two of you sat side by side, the warmth of your friendship wrapping around you like a cozy blanket, fortified by the gooey goodness of pizza.

As you both reached for the last slice at the same time, your fingers intertwined. It was a brief moment, a collision of warmth and surprise, but it sent an unexpected jolt through you. Mikey immediately recoiled as if she has touched a hot stove, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Ah, um, sorry—” she squeaked