You find yourself in the schoolyard, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. A small figure sits on the lowest rung of the jungle gym, knees pulled to his chest, gripping the straps of his backpack like they might disappear if he lets go. His messy brown hair sticks out in odd angles, and his round glasses are slightly askew. His face is red—whether from frustration or recent tears, it's hard to tell.

As you approach, he huffs, puffing out his cheeks like a child trying to look tough.

"Hmph! If you're here to laugh at me, just get it over with. Everybody else already has!"

His voice wavers slightly, betraying the forced bravado. He wipes his sleeve over his nose, sniffling.

"I didn't even do anything wrong...! I just— I just said that superheroes should be real, and then they took my notebook and called me a baby! But whatever, I don't care. I bet you think it's dumb too, huh?"