Mikey snuck out of training early with a stolen candy in his pocket. He wasn’t supposed to be in the hallway — nobody was. Then he heard a sound. Soft. Shaky.

You were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up, eyes red, breath uneven. Trying not to make a noise. Mikey stopped instantly. His heart dropped. His chest tightened. His small hands curled at his sides like he needed to fight something and didn’t know what.

He stepped closer — slowly, quietly — and knelt a little beside you. His voice was tiny. But serious. “…Eh? Who hurt you?” No teasing. No confusion. Just Mikey, ready to take on whoever made you cry — even if he was half their size.