It's been over a week since Tadashi died in the fire. Everyone is mournful, especially Hiro. I heard from his Aunt that he has not left his room for days. We are all mourning in different ways so I suppose that is Hiro's method. I just wish he would talk to us. I know Tadashi would force Hiro out of bed or talk him into doing something other than lay around. Oh, how I miss Tadashi. I can still hear his musical laugh in the lab, the bang and crash of his work next door and even the frustrated grunts he let out while working on Baymax. It took him months to get Baymax working to his liking and now he will never get to see Baymax do the things he envisioned for him. There are so many things I wish I could have said to Tadashi but never got to. I'm sure we all have our regrets, but mine are eating me alive. I miss his smile, his laugh, his eyes. His eyes were always full of life and imagination. I miss his lame jokes, his undoubtful care for Hiro and us, his friends. Sometimes I would even think he cared for me as more than a friend. I would catch a glimmer in his eyes or a spark between us, a magnet pulling us towards each other. It was subtle, but it was there. I had considered asking him if he felt it too but had always resulted to keeping it to myself until I met Baymax.
"Are you staying after?" He had said. Everyone else had gone home and we were the only ones left. The lab was unnormally silent except for our voices and the echos of our footsteps.
"Yeah, I'm trying to get the perfect shade of pink for my big ball of science!" I replied.
"Yeah okay, good luck with that" he giggled his buttery laugh. "I'll be next door working on Baymax."
"Mmhmm, yeah, okay." I muttered, pushing up my glasses and focusing intently on my pink creation.
I remember his footsteps walking out into the hallway, the soft shut of the door. I remember his frustration being so immense, I could feel it from the other room. I remember the excited yelps of Tadashi when he turned on Baymax and he worked for the first time. I remember him bursting into the lab, grinning ear to ear, his eyes flooded with exhilaration. I remember the jubilation in his voice when he said to me "He works! Honey Lemon he… he works! Baymax works!"
"He does?!" I asked, perking up from my own work.
"Yes!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door and into his room. I felt a rush of exuberance as we raced through the door. Sure enough, there was Baymax, standing tall and lovable in the center of the room. I ran over to check out Tadashi's creation. I couldn't help but admire his endeavor. I could not imagine myself accomplishing such a complex project. But, of course, Tadashi pulled it off.
"Wanna see how he works?" Tadashi asked me. Of course I wanted to see how he works.
Before I could reply, Tadashi grabbed my long blonde hair and yanked it down.
"Ow!" I winced, confused. Tadashi laughed and Baymax activated himself.
"Hello. I am Baymax. Your personal healthcare companion." Baymax robotically said. I felt my eyes grow wide in admiration.
"On a scale of 1-10 how would you rate your pain?" He asked me.
"Uhh…" I was speechless.
"I will scan you now." Baymax said.
He produced a laser and proceeded to scan my entire body.
"Scan complete. You have no injuries. However, you are producing a lot of oxytocin, the hormone often associated with emotions such as lust, endearment, or love."
Tadashi's eyes became wide with surprise. I felt myself blush.
"Oh um… I don't think that's accurate." I giggled nervously.
Tadashi came closer and inspected Baymax.
"No, no it has to be. I programed him to the peak of accuracy." I could pinpoint the disappointment in his tone.
"Is Baymax right?" He looked at me intensely, his eyes begging me to tell the truth. Fear boiled inside of me. What if he doesn't feel the same way? How much will I embarrass myself? I couldn't let Tadashi think Baymax was broken when he was right.
"Well I guess there's only one way to find out." Tadashi interrupted my mental arguement. Before I could ask what that was, I felt his soft lips press against mine. In shock my eyes opened wide. Then I kissed him back. Suddenly, the world surrounding us drifted away. I found myself dancing on a cloud. My stomach pinched and whirled on a beautiful roller coaster of tenderness. I felt almost light headed and pulled myself back. His eyes were thick with desire.
"You are now producing double the amount of oxytocin." Baymax said in the background.
We did not break the stare. We continued looking at each other in anticipation and exhilaration. Finally, Tadashi broke the musical silence.
"I uh… I think he was right." He choked nervously.
Before I could agree, I found myself rushing out the door.
I don't know why I did it. Maybe it was my internal monologue holding me against my will, spinning me round and round until I cannot do anything but run. Maybe it was my own stubbornness standing in the way, because I had programed myself to not let my feelings for Tadashi show. Whatever the reason, I let my own cowardness step in the way like a monumental boulder threatening to roll down and squish me if I dare make a move. When I met his little brother, Hiro, the next day, I could barely bring myself to look him in the eyes. But, for Hiro's sake, we acted like everything was fine, although we both knew it wasn't. He looked at me with disappointment. I almost brought myself to pull him aside and apologize for running out on him, but I didn't. I wish I did. I wish I could have seen him at least one last time to tell him how I feel. I wish I could have kissed his lips one last time. I wish I had the strength inside of me to turn around and just kiss him again. Tadashi had that strength. Maybe if I was with him a little longer it would have rubbed off on me. Nevertheless, he is gone now. One might say that he's here but I will never again hear his musical laugh, the bang and crash of his work next door and the frustrated grunts he would let out working on Baymax. I will never again see his smile or his eyes, full of imagination and life.
We all reach a point in our life when it is time for us to pass away. When our clocks break down and our time runs out. Tadashi's clock must have been broken.