It was dark. The only sources of light that seeped into the room came from the moon that leaked through the blinded windows— that, and the small nightlight that was plugged into the far left wall. The clock on the bedside table showed that it was far past midnight, though the sun still had yet to come up and make its first appearance. It was frigid in the room, the temperature derived from not only the lack of sun, but also the season as well as the sound of blowing wind and the fainter sound of sleet could be heard through the walls of the building. The very noises of the weather swallowed up most of the excess noise in the bedroom, such as the ticking of the clock that hung over the stairs, or the small creaking of the floorboards throughout the home.
But the sleet and the snow didn't manage to stifle all of the surplus noises.
From the muted sense of quiet that the night brought with it, there was another small sound— one that barely made itself known in the first place. But sure enough, it managed to make itself known: a hushed sort of crying noise that was only amplified in its sharp contrast it held with its hiccupping squeaks and small gasps. The child nearest to the far wall, a child whose age was around nine or ten, was slowly roused by the sound. And their initial reaction came across as similar to the way that a person would react upon hearing the beeping drone of a smoke alarm: confusion that gradually grew into paranoia and fear.
The ten-year-old sat upright, the covers that were previously tucked tightly around his form rumpling off as he pushed himself upwards. His jet-black hair was tussled awkwardly this way and that, his eyes bleary from sleep as they narrowed, drilling through the dark room straight towards the spot in which the slight sound of crying was originating from. The way that he immediately looked straight to the source of the noise signaled that he had experienced such a wake-up call before. However such a fact didn't deter the way that he got up, the small boy quite literally throwing off his sheets and stumbling quickly down to the floor, barely reacting to the feeling of the freezing wood underneath his feet as he rushed forward.
Skirting around a haphazardly-strewn pile of books that had yet to be arranged into the new bookshelf being built beside them, the young boy made straight for the sobs, hurrying towards the other bed that was arranged inside of the room, worry and concern filling up the boy's expression at the sight of a small lump hidden underneath the covers. As he got closer, the sound of the soft crying got louder, and the ten-year-old reached over to peel away the comforter, fright and distress causing his movements to be quick. Both emotions were alive in the young child's voice as he spoke, words coming out laced with the two as he demanded an answer. "Hiro?" he asked. "Hiro, are you awake?"
Having been exposed now that the covers had been drawn backwards, the source of the muffed tears came in the form of another small boy, albeit younger of about four or five years. The young child was curled up into a tight ball, his head lowered as his far-messier black hair covered up most of his face, which led the older of the two to wonder whether or not the younger boy was actually conscious in his cries.
It certainly wouldn't be the first time that the young child had done such a thing, and the ten-year-old should know, since most nights it took place ended just like this: with him running out of bed and over to where the littler boy lay, ready and willing enough to try and see what the issue was. It had happened very frequently ever since the boy was three— which of course entailed the reason to the sudden change in ability to sleep. Their caretaker now — their Aunt — claimed that it was predictable for such a young toddler to do, and that he would most likely grow out of it soon. Hopefully. She never really was that confident in what she thought was best when it came to the ordeal surrounding the pair of them. Though she was certainly doing her best to tackle the recent situation.
Feeling a small pang in his heart, the older boy sat down lightly on the mattress, leaning over and shaking the shoulder of his younger brother. Again, he pressed further, looking concerned as he saw the state that the very young boy was in. Little shoulders shook in slight sobs, and as a hand was placed on the trembling form and the little one turned onto his back, the older could see that tears were making long track marks down the sides of his face. The tears had dyed the little one's eyes a slightly pink color, and the irritation seemed to only worsen as the three-year-old reached up to wipe roughly at his face. The older sat up a little bit straighter as the younger opened his mouth to say something, but all that got out was a small, plaintive whine of his name. "Tadashi."
Tadashi gave a small smile, though it was slightly deflated and sad as he looked down at Hiro. "It's late," he said, looking over towards the clock on the wall as he said this. But the dark gloom around them made it too difficult to try and see where the two hands were pointing exactly. He looked back, once again looking concerned at the sight of his younger brother. "What's wrong? What happened?" Reaching up to brush aside some of the hair that was still hanging over Hiro's face, Tadashi tried again a little reluctantly, still a bit unsure: "Are you awake?"
The little boy sniffed, still rubbing at his eyes groggily. "My head hurts," he whined, his voice sad and punctured in sorrowful hiccups. Tadashi frowned, reaching up and laying a hand over the little one's forehead. Sure enough, it was slightly warmer than what was usually normal. Maybe he had adopted a fever sometime during the night? "My head hurts." Hiro repeated, a little bit louder with this one, as if he wasn't sure that Tadashi had heard him the first time around. "I don't feel good."
"I think you're sick, little brother," Tadashi said, his voice noticeably softer now as he nodded once. He drew back his hand, letting it rest comfortingly on the little one's shoulder briefly. "I can go wake up Aunt Cass— she can give you some medicine to help make you feel better. Okay? I think that sounds pretty good." The only reaction that he got from the younger was another small sniffle, a little quieter than before but still prominent. The smile on Tadashi's face grew into a much more sympathetic one at this, and the ten-year-old reached up to gently pat his baby brother's head. "I'll go wake her up," he repeated, starting to get up from the edge of the bed. Aunt Cass had probably turned in a long time ago— but she would certainly be shooting right up to her feet at the mention that Hiro might be getting sick. Tadashi figured that she would probably get to be too awake once he told her. She certainly had the tendency to—
A hand reached over to fist itself firmly in the shirt of the ten-year-old, Tadashi stilling with slight surprise as he was stopped halfway up to his feet. He turned and looked back to see the Hiro had gotten up into a sitting position, the little boy's teary expression fixed firmly onto his older brother as it adopted an almost angered look. "I don't want medicine," the younger said, his voice barbed as he kept a firm hold onto Tadashi's pajamas. His brown eyes were narrowed slightly as he frowned, his lips puckering out in that stubborn scowl that Tadashi knew probably too well by now.
It was all the ten-year-old could do not to sigh aloud. Instead he smiled more, reaching up and grabbing at the little one's wrist, prying off his tight hold and gently lowering Hiro's hand back down onto the bed. "Of course you do— don't be silly," he said lightly. "You need medicine to make you feel better, don't you? That's the point of having it around in the first place." Hiro locked his jaw backwards, looking frustrated. But even in the dark Tadashi could tell that the boy's eyes were feverishly bright; if he was already crying over the pain in his head now, it would only worsen if he wasn't given at least some children's painkillers. "Look, I'll be right back. I'll just go downstairs and—"
"No." The objection came faster this time from the little boy, and Tadashi was unable to withhold his sigh this time as he shook his head.
"Hiro, if you don't feel good, you have to take the medicine. I don't know what I should give you so I'll go get Aunt Cass. It might taste bad but would you rather have a-"
"I want you to stay," the little boy quipped, still looking frustrated as he said this, though his scowl did loosen slightly as he looked up at his older brother. Tadashi blinked rapidly, surprised at the sudden change in not only look but in tone as he well as he stuttered for a moment. Hiro's face fell at this, and when he repeated his words for the umpteenth time, his voice was much more reserved than before. "I want you to stay— I don't want you to go downstairs. I just want you to make me better and I don't want medicine." Though the boy was tired and whatever kind of illness he was experiencing seemed big enough to bring those tears in the first place, he seemed far more than sure of himself as he restated his words over and over again.
After the initial surprise left the boy's eyes, Tadashi melted— the boy always had the awful habit of being easily swayed by his younger brother. He glanced over to the stairs, sighing slightly as he bit down on his lower lip. But the inevitable occurred, and he grinned, nodding as he turned back to his baby brother. "Okay; fine," he said patiently, the virtue often being taken advantage of by Hiro more often than was probably needed. "I'll stay up here," he reasoned. "But only if you agree that when you get up tomorrow you'll have some medicine." The fever didn't seem that big to begin with at the moment. If this was what Hiro wanted, Tadashi found it okay enough to leave until morning. And besides: once Tadashi had gotten up, Hiro had stopped most of his crying.
The older turned, sitting back down to where he had been before and he watched as Hiro turned and lay back down on the bed, turning slowly to be on his side and curling his knees up to his chest with another sniff of his nose. Tadashi sighed softly at this, and he scooted closer, reaching over and drawing his hand comfortingly over the smaller child's hair. Gently of course, as to not upset his head further; but he still tried to offer as much comfort as he could to the young boy. It got quiet for a second, the only sound returning to be once more only the wind outside, accompanied every so often by a small sniffle or sigh from Hiro.
Until it was broken again.
"They aren't coming back, are they?" Tadashi stiffened at the question, turning and looking down at Hiro as he asked this. The child had a sullen look on his face, more tears glinting in the dim light of the room now as the topic was changed. A crease appeared over Tadashi's forehead, the ten-year-old waiting for a moment to see whether or not Hiro would turn and look his way. But the younger refused, staring instead off to the side instead as he reached up to scrub at his face again. He didn't offer elaboration on his question; he didn't need to. The meaning was clear as day, and a heavy weight settled over Tadashi as the boy leaned a little bit closer, looking pained.
"Is that what this is all about?" he asked.
Hiro didn't answer except to offer yet another snuffle.
He searched for something to say. It was more than obvious that any and all words to speak was suddenly evading the elder, and his eyes flickered over habitually to the photograph that he had put on the wall near his own bed— a picture of the two boys paired with their parents that they had taken what felt like years ago. A lump formed in the back of his throat, and suddenly the boy that usually had a kind response for everything was left grasping at straws. "Hiro, you can't-" He broke off, finding that whatever he was about to say would have undermined it all. He tried again. "You shouldn't…." But he trailed off from that as well, finding himself absolutely unable to finish any response.
But if such a thing was hard to do then, it became impossible with the next question that came along, coming across in the same small and saddened voice. "But you're going to stay…right?" Hiro mumbled out, voice much more subdued than it had been before; though it hadn't had much volume to it in the first place. Silence clogged up the room for what seemed like far too long. Tadashi started to open his mouth to speak, but it was obvious of the apparent weariness on the boy. Hiro had just now turned four— any other child as young as him would have taken the sudden disappearance of their parents merely as a simple stay away; it would be much easier in that sense if Hiro just assumed the least lethal option of their new situation. But Hiro was unlike any other four-year-old, and there very wasn't much that he didn't understand.
It hadn't been the first question to cause the thickness in his throat. The first question had a definite answer; not only was the first question something that could be explained and elaborated, but it was also one that Tadashi was very skilled in answering by now. Whether or not it had come in exactly the same form, the older of the two Hamada brothers had been the one to talk to the other mourners, taking most, if not all, of the painful questions that would otherwise cause Hiro to become more emotional than he had already been left in this wake. In the last few months he had become skilled in handling this breed of inquiry. 'Are you holding up okay?' 'You know that they loved you, right?' 'Are you feeling any better today?' 'Could you tell me what happened?' 'So what are you planning on now?' and even 'They're not coming back, are they?' were all topics he could swallow, albeit bitterly.
But this one?
"I'm-" Tadashi winced briefly as his voice came out slightly thicker than it normally was, the young boy pausing briefly to clear his throat before going on. "No, Hiro, no, of course I'm going to be here. Where else could I possibly go?" He studied the smaller child carefully, watching as his little brother closed his eyes with another snuffle, reaching up to brush at his eyes again as Tadashi reached over again to ruffle his hair as lightly as he could. "What happened to Mom and Dad is different," he went on, his voice gentler than it had been previously. "I'm not going to go anywhere for a really long time. I promise." Then he paused, lighting up slightly in order to offer the boy a small smile. "You know that I couldn't leave you alone to yourself, right?" the elder teased, a humorous lift coming to his voice now. When Hiro didn't reply exactly, the smile faded. "…You okay?" he murmured softly, concerned once more as he tilted his head to the side a little bit.
"My head hurts." Again came the rather frustrating little complaint.
But Tadashi just sighed, the relentless smile coming over his face again as he gave a nod. "Right," he hummed. "But you also said you didn't want medicine, you Knucklehead. So what do you want me to do?" He found himself waiting for Hiro to just repeat his phrase for the millionth time. Mostly when he woke up in such a way as this he got drowsy somewhere in the middle, half-awake and half-asleep as he mumbled out nonsense. Most of the times it was funny— back when they lived with their parents, Tadashi used to poke fun at the nocturnal habit of Hiro's. But the opportunity to laugh at it had been few and far between the past few months; recently it had taken on the trend of being less amusing and more saddening.
The little child paused for the briefest of seconds before rolling over onto his back, wriggling out his arms from underneath the covers and reaching out a little limply towards where Tadashi had seated himself, an imploring sort of pout pasted over his features. The elder sighed once more but smiled, shuffling over and laying down on the other side of the bed that had been assigned to be Hiro's when they had moved into Aunt Cass' home above her cafe. "C'mere then," he sighed lightly, Hiro already scooting over to be closer to his older brother. "I'm not sure how this'll help your head, though," he said, a mockingly-reproachful tone to his voice as he knew inwardly that all of this did not originate from any kid of real sickness.
Hiro didn't respond of course— the little kid was already falling asleep again. The tenseness that had shown in the boy's shoulders seemed near extinct now as the four-year-old curled up closer to the other, ducking his head down and letting out a small, shaky sigh. Tadashi wrapped his arm around his shoulders, giving him a reassuring embrace before letting go in order to curl up as well. It was far later than what was reasonable at this point— despite the fact that Tadashi was getting very skilled in having to get up in the early hours of the morning like this, it didn't do anything to cause the boy to be any less exhausted by the efforts.
Hiro tossed and turned at his side, and in the effort to try and help the younger to go back to sleep —they both had school in the morning— he asked softly: "Do you hear all that wind outside? I bet there's gonna be so much ice outside tomorrow. …I can't remember if you've been ice skating before, little brother; you might have been too young. But I bet we could try it sometime tomorrow with all this horrible weather." He rubbed Hiro's arm up and down soothingly, trying to get him to calm down enough to stop twisting around or sniffling and go back to sleep.
No response.
"Hiro? Hiro, did you hear me? ….Hiro? Are you listening to me? What are you doing? …Hiro! Hiro!"
The sudden shout caused a rush of surprise to shoot through Hiro, the boy jerking forwards at the yell and slamming his forehead against the glass window of the cafe. The thud caused dull pain to wrap around his head, the teenager groaning in the back of his throat as he reached up to rub at his temple with a sour look of discomfort. "Oh!" The voice came again, though this time it was much quieter now, softer than the previous snap. One eye closed in irritation, Hiro ducked his head down to his chest, an irritated grumble escaping from the corner of his lips. Aunt Cass, who had been busying herself behind the cash register, had straightened quickly at the shocked reaction from the younger, a guilty and slightly nervous frown on her face as she immediately shut up the machine, weaving back around towards him as she wrung her hands together in front of her. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…to scare you like that…"
"You didn't scare me," Hiro mumbled, wincing one last time before dropping his hand back down to his side, having rubbed away most of the pain that had wormed into his head. The fourteen-year-old glanced briefly over the table in front of him, his eyes catching on the small plate of food that had been laid out in front of him on the table. It was cold by now, having been made for him about an hour ago by Aunt Cass. The woman paused briefly on her way over, blinking as the boy paused over the plate of spaghetti, as if he were debating trying to eat some of it for once rather than leave it untouched like all the plates she offered him. But disappointment hung itself over her features as Hiro merely turned away from it again, twisting instead to look back out the window, as he had been doing for quite some time.
Aunt Cass, eyeing the patrons of the cafe who were busy eating their own ordered food, made her way slowly over to where Hiro was sitting, hovering for a moment as she waited for him to look back at her. But the black-haired boy seemed to have gotten distracted, staring in an unfocused manner out into the streets, which were slowly starting to become illuminated by the streetlights lining the roads. He had been quiet for some time— Aunt Cass had managed to get the boy out of his room after some thorough coaxing, yet her victory in persuading him out was short-lived after Hiro just took to being silent and brooding. He hadn't even poked at his food. Just like he had been doing for the past month and a half.
She coughed lightly in the back of her throat. Hiro didn't react much, and after glancing around her patrons one last time, as if they could offer her some kind of assistance, she started to venture forward slowly. "Hiro?" The boy stirred at his name, the woman being encouraged at the fact that it had been easier to grab his attention than last time he'd become disconnected. So she coughed again and went on, her voice a tad lighter now as she grinned, looking over Hiro's head and out the window as well. "I was just saying how the weather's so horrible," she laughed, eyeing the rain that was coming down in sheets outside. "And just think: soon all of this could be snow! Won't that be great?"
Hiro gave a noncommittal grunt in what Aunt Cass guessed was supposed to be an agreement. Her smile faltered slightly at the lack of attention that the boy was showing; it wasn't to say that she was surprised by it, though. Ever since the night of the Showcase at the college, and ever since Tadashi had passed away, Hiro had been vacant and, in the most general sense of the word, sad. Depressed. At first the woman had allowed the boy space and time, hoping that the age-old expression of 'Time Healing all Wounds' would apply in such a situation as this. After all, she had needed her own time to come to acceptance as well. But more than a month had gone by, and while she had picked herself up and had come to terms with what had happened, it hadn't seemed to work the same for Hiro, who only seemed to fall further into the rut of loss. He was spacey and distracted, barely allowing any kind of conversation other than small tidbits, and he rarely ever left his room unless Aunt Cass was the one to lead him down the stairs like she had tonight. It pained the woman to even try and remember the last time he had cracked a smile that was halfway genuine.
Aunt Cass had tried everything she could; what more could she do as his guardian? Movie night hadn't worked; Hiro was never interested in what she picked out, and it was always a process in trying to find a movie that didn't involve any kind of death in its plot just in case it upset him further. Cooking together didn't work; the first attempt had been the last after Hiro had accidentally lost track of how much time the oven was running and almost started a fire in the kitchen. Board games were out; it was a moot effort when only one person was focusing and driving a game of Monopoly. And getting out of the house was never easy with the way that Hiro had to be coaxed to even take a trip down the stairs.
It was a long process, but Aunt Cass was determined to keep trying, no matter the extent that it came to be in. Having faith in the child that she raised ever since he was three, she smiled brightly instead as she shook off the disappointing answer. "I was going to ask if you wanted to make some cookies later," she said, reaching over and giving Hiro's shoulder a small shake. The boy blinked rapidly, as if surprised that she was still standing there, turning away from the window and looking up to meet her gaze a little hesitantly. Yet she kept the smile brightly, refusing to let it waver now that he had finally torn his eyes away from the window and the dreary sight of outside. "I could set a timer this time," she added teasingly. "That way we won't have to worry about losing track of however long they're in there."
"That sounds great," Hiro said, though his voice lacked any sense of enthusiasm that may have been there prior to this ordeal. But it was far more than Cass had been expecting, the brunette's face splitting into a far bigger smile now as a touch of excitement seemed to spark itself in the back of her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, looking as if she was about to launch into one of her happiness-fueled rants that she had the tendency to ramble on through. But Hiro spoke up before she could get out a single syllable, and whatever sense of mirth that was starting to rise up inside of her was dashed a little. "But I'm…um, I'm gonna go out. Tonight," the boy mumbled, looking back down at the plate that was in front of him rather than keeping his gaze locked with Cass'. Numbly, he picked up the fork that was lying on the table, stabbing disinterestedly at the noodles as a way to occupy himself.
"…Oh," Cass murmured after a moment of silence, feeling a touch of regret at the let-down. But then she shook herself, lighting up once again as she simpered. "Really?" she asked. Well….that was good; he hadn't been out of the house in such a long time, maybe this was just the start of things getting better if he was willing to get out and about. "That's great!" she said, brightening at the mental picture. "Are you going out with your friends? I haven't seen them since it all happened; they must be itching to hang out with you!" Hiro glanced at her from the corner of his eyes at this, but he didn't offer much in response. "Well…well that's just awesome!" She was bubbling over by now, but she couldn't manage to stop herself as she beamed. "Do you need a ride somewhere? Do you need me to get your jacket? I can get you some gloves and a scarf too; it's starting to get a little chilly outside. Oh, and this rain is going to make things even worse, do you want a poncho? Or maybe I can just try to see whether or not I can find an umbrella around here— it shouldn't be too hard….maybe I can—"
"You don't have to do anything," Hiro objected, effectively cutting her off as he spoke up. "Really, I'm okay. I can just, um….meet up with them on my own. I can get my hoodie; it isn't that bad outside." The boy paused for a moment before grinning, offering his Aunt a smile as he set down his fork in the pile of now-disturbed noodles, having not actually eaten a single bite, but just pushed around the food to make it appear touched. "That's okay, right?" Cass opened her mouth to answer him, but Hiro was already pushing his chair back from the table, standing up and offering her yet another small grin. It was more than he had smiled in the past month and half, and it was clear on the woman's face that the mere idea of some kind of progress was elating. Even the simple notion of having things become better was enough to cause that happy bubble to come back up in the back of her throat.
"No, no, that's completely fine. You go do whatever you want, honey, don't you even worry about me!" she gushed, thrilled as she reached out and placed her hands on either one of Hiro's shoulders affectionately. She reached over, fiddling with the young boy's hair habitually, the boy's smile fading quickly as she went to work and fussed. "You go have fun with your friends! I won't even give you a curfew, how's that sound?" Hiro didn't reply, but there wasn't much need for his input into the conversation at this point. "You go…do whatever teenagers do. Go tee-pee other kids' houses and smash some mailboxes and vandalize the streets— wait on second thought, you might not want to go and do that. How's a movie sound? I heard that new one that just came out was pretty good. I mean obviously if smashing mailboxes is what makes you happy then maybe I could try and—"
"Okay Aunt Cass." Hiro mumbled, reaching up and quiet literally prying her hands off of him. The patrons of the cafe were staring by now, but the quick evasion was more for the child's own sake rather than anyone else's. Hiro glanced down instead to the untouched plate of pasta that had been provided him a while ago. It wasn't to say that he had been planning to eat the meal anyway, he wasn't hungry. But he had gotten distracted looking out the window, and it seemed like he had spaced out in his own thoughts.
A lump formed in his throat at the memory that he had flashed back to, and he felt again the now-familiar tear in his heart at the thought of that night so long ago. He would have rather stayed, he realized. Sitting at the cafe table, spacing away from the crowded and noisy restaurant and thinking back to other times. It wasn't healthy, Aunt Cass had persisted. It wouldn't help; it would just make things worse. But the fact remained that he hadn't seen Tadashi in what felt like ages, though really it was only just an amount of sparse weeks after his older brother's death. He would take a memory, no matter how bitter it appeared to be, if that meant that he could at least picture him. Thinking back served as a distraction from the pitied looks from the customers that filed in here and realized that he was downstairs today. Or the mass amount of emails and web videos that were piling on his computer from Tadashi's old friends over at the college. Distractions were more preferable than this.
Hiro cleared his throat, shaking his head in the attempt to clear it from the unneeded thoughts. "I think that I'm gonna go pretty soon, though," the teenager said slowly, reaching up and scratching the back of his head as he said this. "I planned it all out with them this morning; they said they would be waiting for me at the Park a few blocks down. They said that maybe a walk would be a good idea. You know, to get…talking about…some stuff." Before Aunt Cass could propose a question in response to him, he perked, clearing his throat and glancing up at her almost imploringly. "Is that alright?"
Cass looked a little uncertain. "Uh…sure honey," she said slowly. "But wouldn't they much rather come here and talk?" Always pushing, she grinned a little bit as she said: "I could close up shop a little early, it's no trouble. The weather's not the best for a walk in the park. It isn't raining as hard as it was before, but you don't want to be soaked, do you? You'll get dripping wet and I'm sure that the last thing that you need right now is a cold. But if you come here then you'll be able to have doughnuts and pies! I don't know whether they're stale or not by now." This sentence was perhaps spoken a bit too loud, for it caused many of the other patrons to look up from their food and glance suspiciously over her way. "But I could always whip something up in a jiffy for you, you know that." Hiro listened with a slightly pained look as his Aunt went on and on, dishing out more and more options that he really didn't have the energy to listen through. "But are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? Because it's no trouble, really, it would be easy to—"
Finally Hiro cut through. "I'm sure, Aunt Cass. But thank you though. They just wanted a night outside. With me. And it's fine; I don't mind the cold. Or the rain," he smiled at this, and as Aunt Cass still seemed dubious, he stepped forward, pushing himself onto his toes and stretching up in order to plant a small kiss on the side of her cheek. A rather mean move, as it instantly caused the reaction that the younger boy was hoping it would, the woman's face breaking once again into that large smile and all the worry melting off of her face. "I'll be fine," he assured, pulling back quickly and already starting to duck away. "It's nothing I can't handle."
Aunt Cass started to reply, but the boy had already turned, slouching out of the cafe and towards the stairs to where their home would begin. The brunette watched carefully as her nephew trudged up the stairs, the smile on her face remaining as she relished in the idea that he would actually go out with friends tonight. It had been far too many weeks of the boy just staying holed up in his room— and while such a reaction was more than a given in the face of how close Hiro and Tadashi had been growing up, it was still worrying. When he wasn't upstairs, Hiro always seemed to be wishing that he was, vacant and absent-minded as he took to just staring off to the side like he had today over what was supposed to be his dinner. There have been a few days even when the young boy would simply refuse to get out of his bed. It couldn't be helping in staying up there, in the vacancy of his brother's empty bed and all of his other belongings that had yet to be dealt with. Aunt Cass had always meant to do something with them, but the mere thought of giving the things away was awful. Yet keeping them as an ever-present reminder wasn't helping either. Not when Hiro was as depressed as he had been.
Going out with friends would be good for him, she told herself firmly. It would help to get his mind off of things and start focusing on something other than his recent loss. Maybe tonight would help him see that registering for college might be a good idea. The group of kids had been up multiple times of course since the fire— they had even been at Tadashi's funeral. Yet Hiro had never come down to greet them; he never even seemed to react when Cass had told him that they were downstairs asking for the child. Whatever obstacle that was in the way seemed to have lifted from the boy if he was going out to meet them tonight. And this could only mean that more things were on their way, more accomplishments that would eventually lead to the boy making a full recovery from the tragedy that had occurred. The simple idea or thought that such a thing was possible caused the woman to smile brilliantly once again, an aching sort of happiness in the idea that her little boy could get past something like this.
A few minutes passed in which Cass took to milling around, taking away trash and refilling coffee, managing to hold a few sparse conversations. Mrs. Matsuda, a regular to the bakery, hindered the woman's flittering about to check on each customer there as she stopped Cass in order to ask how Hiro was doing. Most regulars had the same question when they came along, always finding it odd not to see at least a passing glance of him milling about. And to see him just sitting motionless like he'd taken to today was even more concerning to some. Cass recalled how Tadashi and Hiro would often help to run the cafe during the summer or weekends, or when they were just simply bored. Usually the pair of them caused more havoc and chaos than was really necessary to run the cafe — there had been one time where Hiro had decided that he would try his very best to shoot straw wrappers at Tadashi no matter where the older brother was inside of the cafe, and Tadashi had responded by trying to wrangle the bag of straws away from the younger, which ended up in three spilled drinks and a tray of doughnuts falling onto the floor — but it was always well appreciated in the end. Good fun. Fun that was sorely missed by Aunt Cass and the regulars alike, as it turned out.
But Cass' conversation with the old woman was cut short as Hiro came back downstairs. Sure enough, he had put on one of his hoodies, the hood drawn up snugly around his face as he made for the door. Excusing herself in a little bit of a rush, the guardian sidled around her other customers, throwing out quick 'I'll be right with you's or 'Hang on a second please's as she sidled past people that were trying to get her attention. "Hiro!" She called, the boy stopping short with one hand on the door as he stiffened.
The fourteen-year-old turned around to face her just in time to be greeted with a large bear hug, a small squeak escaping from his throat as he was squeezed tightly around his waist. Aunt Cass beamed as she hugged close to her nephew, swaying side to side a little bit as she hummed under her breath. "You go have so much fun tonight!" she ordered as she pulled back, a small wince over Hiro's face from such an unexpected and tight embrace. "Don't even worry about curfew, you just go and hang out with your friends, okay?"
"Thanks Aunt Cass," Hiro offered, trying to offer yet another smile, though it came out a little more awkward than anything that could be genuine.
The fact went unnoticed to his guardian in the elation of his actually leaving, and she pulled him in for yet another bone-crushing squeeze, much to the irritation of the young boy. "Last hug!" the woman chirped, keeping the child longer this time as she kept him in her vice-like grip. But after a moment or two, she let go, Hiro wriggling out from her hold and smoothing over his hoodie, ensuring that it was still snug. "I'll see you later then! I have to tend to the night rush, I guess," she said, unperturbed even by the increasingly-irate customers waiting for their service behind her.
"Good luck with that," Hiro bode, his hands slipping into the front pocket of his hoodie as he quickly drew backwards, exiting the cafe hurriedly as he shouldered open the door. Outside it was colder than he'd first expected, the boy staggering slightly as he stepped over the threshold. And sure enough, the sensation of small pricks on his head signaled raindrops, and dark circles started to pepper themselves over his sweatshirt the longer he stood in one place. Exhaling and glancing behind him, Hiro stood pensively for a moment or two outside the building, bathed in the warm glow that came from the lights inside as he watched Aunt Cass return to her daily routine in running the shop. She seemed happy as she fluttered here and there, taking orders and payments from her customers all while her mouth moved a mile a minute, probably holding up a hundred different conversations at once. It was like any other night.
The idea caused a small shadow to fall over the boy's expression, and he looked down, one of his arms slipping out from his hoodie, as he withdrew the small robot that he had stashed there. Taking out his other arm as well, Hiro held the small thing in his hands, staring down almost blankly at the small thing that he had created what seemed like ages ago. It was the thing that had inspired his Microbots, which were now all destroyed along with everything else in the fire that had ravaged the Showcase. The thought elicited a heavy sigh from the teenager, who turned the fighting robot — who he'd given the title Megabot — over and over in his hands. He looked up, almost torn as he looked around, down the street, to the left, to the right, or back behind the store. He considered tucking away the robot, doubling back instead and heading left to the park like he had told Aunt Cass he would do. The idea of lying to the woman, when she seemed so happy at even the smallest mention of him going out and doing something with Tadashi's friends, was unpleasant. It made his stomach clench guiltily, and he looked down the street that would lead him there.
But he couldn't. He couldn't go and be with them— they were Tadashi's friends. Sure, while Hiro had worked on the Microbots for the college Showcase, he had managed to get closer to them, and he had maybe even formed something akin to a friendship with the group. But that was just because Tadashi had introduced them all and had invited them in the first place. He couldn't go and be with them now. Not after everything that happened. Not without Tadashi by his side.
Hunching his shoulders and looking back down briefly at Megabot, Hiro turned and started down the opposite way, hunching his shoulders and making his way downtown as he walked against the rain.
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It was booming still, despite the dreary and unnaturally-frigid weather. The alley was still packed with people that had journeyed underground for bot fights, who still took to standing around in a closely-knit circle, the people still just as hyped over the metallic violence as they always had been. Shouts were coming from every direction, money being thrown this way and that as bets were placed on whoever was in the center of the mayhem to showcase whatever new kind of bot they were confident in winning with. The air was tight with tension and fraught with excitement, and with the newest fight being set up in the middle of the backlot, the roar of voices and conversation rose to an all-time high.
It was like everything was the same, everything was normal. Like nothing at all had happened. It was bittersweet, but Hiro found himself aching for such a sensation right about now.
The fourteen-year-old was sitting cross-legged on the slightly-grimy floor of the alley, Megabot lying in its traditional heap a little bit in front of him. He had gone through three rival robots now in the span of five hours, albeit numbly. Transitioning from going out into the ring, waiting for more people to come, and then weaving back into the fray, the teenager had bided his time. The thought of going back home to Aunt Cass while the woman was still awake wasn't anything that he felt like doing. She would stop him and ask questions, and to demand full detail on what happened while he was supposedly out with friends. He had already lied to her about that aspect, and he wasn't keen on adding more lies to the list.
A fourth challenger was approaching, the announcement of their name going ignored by the teenager as well as their entire being. Hiro barely even glanced over their robot before deciding that it would be more than simplistic to defeat with his own— he didn't really feel like delving into things deeper than that knowledge. He wasn't putting on any sort of front either, the teenager much too worn to try and feign nativity in the realm of bot fighting to derive more cash. He simply reached into the pocket of his hoodie, withdrawing the money that he had brought along with him as well as the other stacks that he had won in the past few hours. And the teenager turned, depositing the paper on the tray offered to him by the referee. In the back of his mind, he decided that he would put his winnings into the cash register on his way up tonight. Maybe that would alleviate the sense of guilt that was weighing down on his shoulders by him being here.
The entire crowd had grown almost quiet now as the fight started to begin. Hiro tilted his head slightly, an obscenely-unimpressed look on his face as he saw that his opponent — a rather awkward-looking guy that probably could have stood to lose a few tons — looked more than prepared for the fight, an almost smug look overcoming their face as they leaned closer to the ring. Then the boy's eyes flickered down to the bot, eyebrows rising in a snide way as he looked at the hodgepodge of nuts and bolts that stood a few feet away from Megabot. Such a blatant show of supposed superiority would have offended Hiro on any other night prior to this one, but now the boy just sighed heavily under his breath, sinking back and grabbing up his controls with a suggested roll of the eyes.
As tradition, the referee leaned forward into the circle, leaning out to spin an umbrella between the two fighters. "Two bots enter, one bot leaves!" they called out, an air of mystery to the starting call as the intricate design of the umbrella spun back and forth. Hiro coughed slightly, shaking his head to try and clear it yet again. He could just focus on the fight. Not on the fire. Not on Tadashi. Not on the way that whenever Aunt Cass or Tadashi's old friends looked at him they stared at him like his puppy had just run away. Here there wasn't any hushed conversation about him going on when his back was turned. There weren't any sorrowful looks pointed his way or exchanged between people who caught sight of him. There weren't any of Tadashi's things around to painfully remind him that his brother was gone. It was all just shouts of excitement and money being passed around and robots and tactic. That was all he needed right now.
The fight started as soon as the referee stepped back. The rival, the one that Hiro had completely ignored the name of, leaned forward even more in his excitement, the small excuse for a robot starting towards Megabot, who was still limp against the ground. Hiro deadpanned, his eyes flickering lazily from the other robot to its controller. The others around him, who had seen the small boy fight before, were obviously on the edge with their knowledge, waiting until the boy would make his first — and probably last, if the past was anything to go off of — move. And the boy did of course. Though it was without even a fraction of the excitement and tension that the other seemed to carry at the prospect of a bot fight.
Hiro's disinterested, even bored, look remained plastered on his face, the boy's fingers working mechanically on his controller as he kicked Megabot into motion, the robot shooting up to its feet immediately to charge forward. There were gasps of shock and excitement on those who had just arrived to the fight, who hadn't seen Hiro's work before, but the boy still did not react. Megabot dashed right into the other robot, which was nearly twice as big as he was, as most other robots tended to be at these things. It only served a greater purpose for Hiro though, as Megabot merely climbed straight up the robot's haphazardly-formed body to wrap around the head. It went straight for the kill— no prolonging things with showy effects or stunts.
The owner of the other robot seemed to be caught off-guard by the sudden change. It was how it usually happened. The cycle that normally ran and continued throughout every bot fight that Hiro found himself going to. It was repetitive, Hiro thought, as he merely popped the other bot's head clean off its shoulders. But it was normal, something that Hiro remembered and something that he knew wouldn't change. And he was okay with that he figured, watching as the other robot capsized, its owner's face miles from their prior superiority. Megabot fell down along with the other robot, shooting back up in order to turn around and scamper back to Hiro. The boy leaned out, scooping up the black robot and tucking it away in his hoodie in a synchronized motion as he started to stand.
"The winner is Hiro Hamada!" the referee bellowed, announcing the rather obvious fact as they turned and offered the tray of winnings to the fourteen-year-old. The rival scowled in disappointment, being forced to undergo the shame of having to pick up the pieces of their robot while everybody watched and cheered on the victor, who instead of picking up scrap metal and worthless bolts, got instead to pick up their achieved wad of cash. Well, Hiro could only assume that the other task was shameful— he'd never had to do it before. But while other times he would shrug cockily and probably utter out a phrase or two that would include boasting over his intelligence at the win, now he just took the money and ducked out of the circle of attention hurriedly.
Usually winners tended to stay to challenge anybody who would 'dare' come up to outmatch their fighting robot. But Hiro wasn't in the mood to stay much longer. After all of this, beating four people was enough. The temperature was only dropping more and more the later it got, and with his clothes already being wet from the rain, he was freezing cold. Plus it was nearing midnight. Not that the boy was able to fall asleep easily these days anyway, but his joints were already aching with exhaustion, and he had a long walk in order to get home anyway. He hadn't even counted the stack of money he'd accumulated in the night's proceedings; but he could tell by the weight in the pocket of his hoodie that staying for more wouldn't be needed in the slightest. The break was a needed one, but staying any longer was pointless. There was still a possibility that Aunt Cass was literally waiting for him to return home, probably armed with excited questions over what he had done that night with his friends. She had told him no curfew, but the woman would certainly be furious if he decided to walk in at two or three in the morning.
Hiro shouldered his way through the throng of people surrounding the ring. The teenager flipped his hood back up over his head, ducking down and weaving through the people around him as he started to head back to the exit of the alleyway. As usual, those gathered attempted to stop him, calling out ambiguous shouts like: "Hey kid!" or "Hey stop for a second!" But Hiro ignored them blatantly, keeping his eyes fixed straight forward instead as he stalked out of the backlot. Behind him, he could hear that more people were lining up to fight, and he figured that most of these people would indeed stay until three or four in the morning. He almost wished that something like that were possible for him. The hint of more distractions sent his way in the form of bot fighting sounded more than appealing. But Aunt Cass was waiting— he couldn't do that.
Maybe he could come back tomorrow night.
"Hey!" Hiro scowled as another shout reached his ears, the boy tucking away his robot consciously as he hunched his shoulders forward. He locked his jaw backwards in irritation— the person was probably just going to badger him for secrets in how to get their bot up to par. And he certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with any of 'those' idiots that were around here tonight. But they were persistent as Hiro walked past them, calling out again now as they used his name. "Hey, Hiro!" The boy paused briefly at the use of his name, a flicker of confusion coming over him as he tried to tell by their voice on whether or not he knew them. Curiosity overtook him, and he found himself stopping, turning to the left to look over their way.
The face didn't seem familiar, nor did the friends that were standing on either side of the person. The one who had shouted was some curly redhead that looked a few years older than him at least. She had a tattoo of a star near her right eye, and she grinned a snickering kind of smile as Hiro turned to face her. "Hey there," she greeted warmly, as if they had seen one another before. Hiro didn't reply, merely staring blankly over at her. And after a while, Redhead gave a small laugh, nodding as she raised her arm in a vacant gesture towards him. "Good fight, kid," she chirped, Hiro's eyes landing on the thing she held in her upraised hand as he put his own back into his pockets.
"No thanks," he said flatly, an almost sour look crawling over his features as he looked at the bottle Redhead held crossly.
He started to turn again, to keep walking as he remembered the walk he had home. But Redhead pushed off of the alley way, looking perplexed as she called out, stopping him in his tracks once again as she took a few steps forward. Obviously she wasn't going to let him walk away. Hiro sighed in the back of his throat, turning back for what felt like the millionth time. The next bot fight was starting off to the side— shouldn't she be more concerned with whatever was going on over in that direction? "Hey, wait a second," the tattooed fighter said. "I've watched you bot fight all night and you didn't smile once. Now it might just be me but I think getting all that fat wad of cash would make you grin at least a little bit."
Hiro didn't answer, taking to staring at her silently.
Off to the side, a loud cheering scream rose up from the crowd. Someone must have just won. The boy turned, glancing over and watching passively as one of the fighters — presumably the winner — leapt up to their feet, their hands shooting up into the sky as they gave a thundering cheer, raising their robot up and waving it around for all to look at. A crease slowly appeared in Hiro's forehead, and he paused for the briefest of moments, some of the sadness that he was trying to distract himself from making a comeback as a dark cloud started to hover over the young teenager. Redhead must have seen the odd change, because she cleared her throat loudly. "Catch," she called out, Hiro turning to face her in just enough time to stiffen with surprise, jerking forward and just managing to catch the bottle she threw his way before it could fall and shatter onto the ground. "It's on the house," Redhead added as Hiro straightened, a pinched look on the boy's face.
He locked his jaw backwards. "I don't drink," he said, his words dull as he clenched the glass bottle of alcohol in his hands.
"And I don't give hand-outs," Redhead replied accordingly. "But if any sorry sack needed some of that right now, it'd be you. Go ahead and give it a try— you might actually offer a smile or two." Hiro didn't move at this, and she shrugged, offering the younger a peace sign and a grin of her own as she started to go back to her friends. "Good fight, kid," she repeated her words from before. "See ya around maybe." Hiro opened his mouth to say something in response, a sarcastic phrase bubbling up in the back of his throat as he tried to regain some kind of ground that he had lost in staying silent. However Redhead had taken her leave, turning her back and retreating to her group that she had been standing with previously, already rallying together bets for the newest set of bot fighters coming into the ring.
Hiro's joints were locked together, and the fourteen-year-old looked back down to the bottle that he now had clasped in his hands. His brain spluttered for a moment, as if he were unsure of what to do. He glanced back over at the ring, at Redhead, down the alleyway to the street, back down to the bottle. Eventually he shook his head, trying to clear it once more as the young boy turned for the last time, going unstopped now as he headed back out the way that he had come in. Heavy in his jacket's pocket was Megabot and the surplus of money that he had achieved with the many fights he had entered. But even heavier still was the glass bottle that he held in his hands, the small rocking of the liquid that was inside seeming much louder than it actually was as he turned back home.
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The cafe was locked by the time that Hiro finally got back. It was going on to two by now, and apparently Aunt Cass had decided that staying up in order to wait for him was a moot point. Hopefully she just assumed he had stayed at someone's house— it would be easier for her to assume such things rather than Hiro being forced to outright deceive her. But he was more than sure that he would get bombarded with questions in the morning, and the idea caused the teenager's stomach to sink as he went around back to enter the building since the front door had probably been locked hours ago.
Stepping into the now-darkened bakery, Hiro had to narrow his eyes in order to adjust to the dark and see properly. And as promised to himself, after the teenager locked the back door behind him, he went for the register. Entering the required set of numbers to open it — he had learned the code after working here days on end whenever Aunt Cass needed help — he winced as the machine gave out a loud ding as its lower panel shot open. One eye closed and his face pulled into an apprehensive grimace, the teenager's hand hovered over the keypad, biting down on his lower lip as he waited for Aunt Cass to be roused by the noise and come downstairs. If she did, he had no idea what to do, considering he had just walked into the house at two in the morning and he was now opening up the register for presumably no reason. If he was his Aunt, he would certainly have a few questions of his own to pose.
But a few tense minutes passed of the boy remaining stock-still, and there wasn't any appearance of his guardian. Slowly, he released out a small breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, stepping back a little and withdrawing the stack of money he'd gotten during the night. He hadn't counted it up yet, but he figured that putting all of it in would be a little noticeable. But he was sure that a few extra tens or twenties lying around in the machine wouldn't, and so he separated the bills, putting them down into their corresponding sections and tucking the rest away back where they had come. And then he shut the door of the machine, wincing again as he took care in shutting it so that it wouldn't make any more excess noise.
Then he turned and went up the stairs, taking care in skipping the third one, which was always a little creaky when you walked on it. All the lights were on, and as the boy walked past the living room and towards the second set of stairs, it was obvious that Aunt Cass had fallen asleep a long time ago. So Hiro wasted no time in sneaking back up to his room, not bothering to turn on the light as he did so. The teenager was worn out, and there was no doubt that he would have dark circles under his eyes tomorrow morning. It was the first time in a long one that he had been outside of the cafe, and he found himself exhausted with the change of activity— rather than sitting curled up in his room all day motionless, he had walked all the way downtown, stood for more than five hours, and then he'd walked all the way back. It was a large change, and Hiro found himself flopping down onto his bed with a pained huff.
He laid there for a few minutes; his eyes closed as he tried to resist the temptation to turn and look over to the right where he knew for a fact Tadashi's things would be lying. The empty bed, the now-lonely-looking hat sitting atop of it— they were like a heavy reminder that was continuously tapping on the fourteen-year-old's shoulder, begging his unwilling attention. He curled up on his side instead, keeping his back to the opposite end of the room as he stared at the wall.I've watched you bot fight all night and you didn't smile once. Now it might just be me but I think getting all that fat wad of cash would make you grin at least a little bit.Hiro swallowed, blinking as he looked down at his hands, realizing that they were still clenched tightly around the smooth glass of the bottle that Redhead had given him. He'd almost forgotten.
The boy pushed himself up, his face fallen as he stared at the flask he held, turning it on its side routinely, his eyes narrowed slightly as he hesitated. I don't drink.He frowned, turning and glancing over to the right, his stomach clenching painfully as he looked at the other end of the room. Any other night and Tadashi would have been in his own bed, turned over on his left side like he always took to sleeping. The room would have been filled with his snoring— Hiro remembered how he had always complained very loudly about the habit of his brother's. It was always something that irritated the younger boy when he was trying to sleep. But now the room was silent, and sleep was even harder to achieve because of that. The room was too empty. Too quiet. Everything was now.
His heart tore on itself as he was painfully reminded that his brother wasn't there anymore. He wasn't there to have conversations with or to talk to or to call if he needed help. He wasn't even there for Hiro to complain to. He was gone. Tadashi was gone. And he wasn't coming back.
But if any sorry sack needed some of that right now, it'd be you. Go ahead and give it a try—you might actually offer a smile or two.
Hiro tore his gaze away from the empty side of the room, back down to the bottle. He pulled up his sweatshirt a little bit, spinning his hand around in the fabric of his shirt and bringing the bottle down so that he could wrap the cloth around the top of the glass. The sides of the cap were sharp and they bit into his skin as he twisted hard to the left, and the teenager winced at the little pinpricks of pain that was inflicted by the action. But the cap eventually spun off, Hiro dropping the cap onto the bed and untangling his hand from his shirt as he let out a small sigh. …you might actually offer a smile or two…Hiro glanced over to the right again. Back down to the bottle.
…It can't hurt to just try…can it?
And slowly the fourteen-year-old raised the flask to his mouth, wrapping his lips thinly around the dip of the glass and tipping it backwards. Immediately, he choked, hunching forward and dropping his arm so that he could cough heavily into the crook of his arm, trying to stifle the noise as much as he could. His throat burned from the initial swallow of the amber liquid, and Hiro grimaced deeply at the sensation that it brought with the first swallow. But as he waited and got his breath back, he realized that even from the first gulp, he was left with a slightly lighter sort of feeling— a little bit warmer one. One that was vastly different from the heavy burden he had been dragging behind him ever since the fire. He looked down at the bottle in frank apprehension, pausing briefly before attempting the feat again, raising the bottle back up to his lips and taking down another sip. And again, the feeling returned with the drink, stronger in the most minuscule sense.
And cautiously, finding the sensation growing stronger and stronger, and suddenly realizing the connection, Hiro took more and more sips of the amber liquid, finding the action coming easier and easier as the warm feeling started to expand, filling his chest and wrapping around him entirely. And sitting in the darkly-lit room on his bed, swallowing down the alcohol that had been offered to him earlier in the night, Hiro found that the pressing attention that had been tugging his eyes over to the right side of the room got smaller and smaller, until eventually he didn't feel as if he had to look over in that direction anymore.
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A/N: Thank you for reading all of this! I really suck at summaries, so the fact that you've gotten this far is great. This is the newest idea of mine that is under construction, and this is more or less just serving as the primary introduction. There is a lot more to come, more than I could fit into the summary, so I hope you all are as excited for what's going to happen as I am! There is going to obviously be underage things. Such as drinking or possible drug use. So please be aware of that :)
But I hope that you like it! And I hope I can hear from you in a review before I post the next chapter~!