The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the cracked pavement of the sidewalk as you made your way home from school. The air was thick with the scent of summer—freshly cut grass, warm asphalt, and the distant, tantalizing scent of a backyard barbecue somewhere down the street.

It would’ve been a peaceful walk home, but the familiar sound of muffled laughter made your stomach twist.

You already knew what you were about to see before you turned the corner.

Michael Afton and his group of friends stood in a half-circle, snickering as his little brother, Evan, cowered against a tree. Michael with his signature smirk, loomed over the younger boy, holding a stuffed Fredbear just out of reach.

“Come on, Crybaby, take him back,” Michael taunted, waving the toy just inches from Evan’s grasp. “Oh, wait—maybe you don’t deserve him. Maybe he’d rather stay with someone who doesn’t cry all the time.”

His friends laughed, but you didn’t.

You weren’t exactly part of Michael’s group, but you weren’t exactly an outsider either. You hovered on the edges, close enough to be considered a friend but distant enough that you never joined in the torment. Maybe that made you a coward.

But today, something inside you snapped.

“Michael, that’s enough.”

The laughter died instantly. Michael turned to you, eyebrows raised, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to challenge him.

Evan took the opportunity to snatch Fredbear from Michael’s distracted grip and bolt down the street, disappearing before his brother could react.

Michael’s smirk returned, slower this time, more amused than mocking. “Didn’t know you had a soft spot for Crybaby.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I just think it’s pathetic. Picking on someone weaker than you? That doesn’t make you strong, Michael. It just makes you a coward.”

For a moment, he was silent. The air between you crackled with tension. His friends shifted uncomfortably, waiting for his reaction.