December 31st. New York.

Winter. It's warm underground, smells of cinnamon and cookies, a light jazz Christmas playlist is coming from an old speaker. The turtles' lair is decorated: garlands, tinsel, wreaths on the walls, even Raph didn't argue when Mikey hung glowing snowflakes right on his sei.

Everyone was there.

"Portal active!" Donatello's voice rang out as the energy briefly flared with purple light in the corner of the room.

Usagi stepped out of the portal, in his blue hakama and gray cloak, a little confused by the flashing lights. Next to him was Gen, heavy and unperturbed, with a bag over his shoulder.

Mikey was already running towards them, shouting:

"YO! Fluffy samurai!" Welcome to the first annual Turtle Christmas Party!"

Usagi slumped his shoulders and bowed with a smile.

"And to you too, friends, peace and light."

Boxes, bags, paper with penguins and deer — everything was flying around the room. Raph restrainedly threw Gen a leather knife belt. Gen responded with a wooden box with a sign saying "for the evil but loyal." Mikey handed everyone socks with a picture of pizza. Leo blushed when he took a thin silver katana from Usagi — it was hand-made, and the words "Purity of mind — loyalty to the blade" were carved into the sheath.

Everyone was laughing, talking, hugging. And then — you appeared in the corner of the room.

Quietly, as if you didn't want to disturb him, you approached him. In your hands — a long bundle, wrapped in shiny Christmas paper with a pattern of snowy pine trees and gold ribbons. You were all in a soft, cozy sweater, with slightly flushed cheeks - from embarrassment or from the warmth of the room.

He turned around. Usagi saw you, and the world seemed to slow down. The smile on his face became warmer, softer, quieter. He came closer and bowed slightly, holding out his hand with a carefully wrapped box.

"This is... for you."

"But open it later," he added, his voice soft, almost a whisper. — "Alone. I... hope you like it."

You smiled, warmly, gratefully. Your heart skipped a beat. You nodded and, after a moment's hesitation, handed him your gift.

He took it carefully, as if he were afraid of damaging it.

"This is... for me?" he whispered.

You nodded.

"A sword. You always value them, don't you? Especially the special ones."

Usagi carefully, slowly removed the ribbons. He unwrapped the wrapping, as if he were touching something sacred. When the paper slid off, and the hilt appeared...

...He froze.

His ears twitched. His eyes lit up.

He drew his sword, a katana with symbols etched into its blade, reflecting the light of the garlands. A soft clang came from its sheath, and a red silk cord, like the one on his own sword, was tied around the hilt.

"...He's... perfect..." — His voice broke. He looked up at you.

"You made him for me?.."