Unbelievable. This was completely unbelievable— in every sense of the word.
How could this have happened? How could this happen to him? To a boy who already lost his parents, lost his interest in school. Until Tadashi had given it back to him—but why? Why did he have to lose his brother too?
Was it some sort of karma? For all the illegal bot fighting he had done?
He didn't understand it. He didn't understand any of it.
As the days passed by, all Hiro could recall was the tears and the whispers of pity. He didn't need pity, he didn't need all these people around to tell him everything would be alright.
Nothing was alright.
His brother was dead. Dead. He would never come back. His parents were dead too. They hadn't come back. Hiro vaguely recalled asking Tadashi over and over when their parents would come one. No—he wouldn't think about it. He shook his head. Why couldn't he be with the rest of his family? Why did he have to be the only one alive now? Why? Why why why?
That seemed to be the only thing he could think about these days.
Why.
Hiro had stood on the wet grass, not seeing, not aware of who was who, who said what. Just standing, silent, heart broken.
Broken.
Someone, more than one someone, had a hand on him. On his head, on his shoulder, on his hands. Their hands were gentle, comforting—only for a moment, before he remembered why they were there. They spoke softly, he heard it, but it all blurred together with what everyone else had said. He saw the shadow of their mouths opening and closing. The only word that penetrated the deep fog he was in was when they spoke his brother's name. Tadashi.
Each time someone spoke his name, Hiro felt as if someone clenched hard on his heart, squeezing and squeezing, hoping for it to burst. Sometimes he wished it would just spontaneously combust. Maybe if it happened, he wouldn't be alone. Maybe if that happened, he could finally join that family that was taken from him.
He sat on his chair, facing his brother's side of the room, his eyes glazed. Aunt Cass had come in sometime, brought up food. Last night? This morning? He didn't know what time it was. All he knew was that he wasn't hungry. There was a soft ping coming from his computer, a message from Tadashi's friends.
Hiro ignored it.
He ignored everything.
Why.
Genius, that was what everyone called him. Hiro, the boy who graduated highschool at the age of 13. Hiro, the amazing bot fighter. Hiro, the boy who lost his parents. Hiro, the boy who created incredible inventions. Hiro, the boy who lost his brother. Hiro, the boy who lose's everything.
If he was such a genius, why hadn't he stopped Tadashi from going into the building?
If his brother had been so intelligent to have invented a medical robot, why hadn't he known how bad that fire was? He had seen it, how the fire engulfed the building, swallowing it whope. How could he not have known that it would kill him if he stepped one foot into that place? Hadn't he built that robot—Baymax? Why hadn't he known? Why did he have to have the desire to save the professor? Why hadn't he thought about what might happen to Hiro if he didn't make it back?
Hiro curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs, leaning his forehead against his thighs. If he, himself, was such a genius, why couldn't he just let this go and get on with life? He knew, very well, that what he was doing wasn't healthy—that pushing everyone away, not eating, not talking to someone—wasn't good for him. He knew all of it. But why couldn't he stop? If he was such a genius, why couldn't he stop grovelling and stop crying and stop feeling?
Just—why?
A/N: I might post some more to this. I'm not sure yet. But for now I'm going to mark this as complete. I have a few ideas for more oneshots, happy ones, sad ones. But as I said, I'm not sure yet. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes, I sort of just wrote and posted it. Feel free to give me any remarks on that.
And thanks for reading! :)