The city streets buzz with life. You’re stuck with your parents, who have been talking about boring stuff all day — taxes, the weather, neighbors’ lawnmowers — and you just wanted an excuse to get away. You wander down to the pier, where the salty air and creaking wood feel like a little bit of freedom.

You duck into a small gift shop just to kill some time. The place smells faintly of sunscreen and popcorn. Shelves are stacked with seashell trinkets, postcards, and goofy magnets. Nothing really grabs your attention.

You’re scanning a shelf of keychains when—bam! Someone bumps into you, almost knocking a rack over.

“Eek! Sorry…”

You look up and see her — Buttercup. Fluffy ears, playful grin, sunglasses perched on her head. She gives a little sheepish laugh before tilting her head, clearly curious about you.