{A/N: Short one-shot I thought up. All characters are not my own, nor is the cover art.}
"What if it doesn't work?" Hiro's voice was feeble, the boy confessing his deep fears to the only person he trusted enough on the face of the earth. "What if it's all a flunk? I don't have enough time before the conference to make major changes, I just ca-"
The lanky 17 year old was cut off by a hand on his shoulder, one belonging to his older brother, a graduate fresh out of college. "Hey. You got this." The younger boy offered a half smile in return, grateful for his sibling's encouragement. "You've been ironing this out for months. It's going to work."
Hiro nodded slightly, before booting up the programming that controlled his tech improvements. He had been given a part of SFIT's spot at one of the most prestige international tech conferences, to showcase what students at the school achieved. Only thing was, 88 tests in, Hiro's prototype was still failing. And the week-long mosh pit, consisting of only the highest names in the inventing world, was on schedule to start in two days. Hiro's submission was supposed to be in by tomorrow, however, if this test didn't prove successful, he'd have to show up empty-handed, or show his lackluster invention from freshman year.
This new project was way more than the microbots. He'd been thinking too small, near literally- the prototypes of that project had been no more than 1.5 inches long. Now, he rather wanted to improve upon the whole technology behind magnetic-bearing servos; to make a breakthrough worthy of putting his name in textbooks. And he knew the hidden flaw, too, thanks to the inventor himself. The old tech was far too rogue, could be manipulated too easily, and neuro-cranial control took up far too much exertion for such a disastrous possible outcome.
Instead, Hiro had now developed a similar tech with varying sizes for building blocks, so if the user needed to move a piece of hardware that was 10 feet long, she/he wouldn't need eighty just to span the width of it. He also altered the construction of the parts, making the bonds stronger between individual pieces, as well as making it impossible to regain mental control unless modified back to the original model he'd presented at the showcase. Which, thanks to his firewalls in the new software, would prove incredibly difficult if attempted. The new program he'd created to pair alongside the physical invention itself was much similar to a 3D printing application, with a much more accessible emergency stop function that could be controlled by a third party, to cover just in case another Yokai scenario blossomed up.
If all worked, Hiro Hamada would be a definition for engineering students to look up for homework in the future. He induced the software's start-up program, a long sigh escaping his lips. Side bonus, if he could succeed in this, Robert Callaghan's work would become obsolete. The thought made the boy grin to himself, as the bright blue screen reflected in his glassy, sleep deprived eyes. Tadashi stood behind him, overlooking the younger boy's shoulder as the computer pinged. Hiro's facial features fell, as this had been a tell-tale sign of failure in tests of recent. No, this couldn't be happening again. He held his breath unintentionally, before a "WELCOME TO HAMADAWARE!" flashed up onto the screen, boasting a small "Press Enter to begin" beneath it.
"It works." The teenager breathed, before screaming in raw excitement, jumping up from his seat and sending the ergonomic computer chair flying behind him. He could barely hear it crash into the wall over the thumping of blood rushing to his ears at the moment. "IT WORKS!" He beamed brightly, immediately spinning and rushing into a tight hug with Tadashi, who only chuckled.
"You did it, dork." He practically sighed in Hiro's ear, and it was almost hard to distinguish his voice from any other whisper. "I always knew you could. You should be proud of yourself." Tadashi held onto his brother's shoulders and stepped back, the younger of the two feeling validated by the warmth radiating from his older sibling's chocolate eyes. "You're really using your gift for something important Hiro. I'm proud. And if you ever feel like giving up… Know I'm here. And I believe in you."
Hiro's lips quivered, before he practically barreled back into his brother's embrace. He mumbled, gripping at the older boy's cardigan as he imagined the bright future the two had together. "Thank you, Tadashi. For… Everything."
"Tadashi is here." The monotonous voice jarred Hiro, unable to fit in to the scenario. He violently thrashed due to being startled, and found himself staring at the ceiling of what appeared to be his garage. He'd been standing just a second ago. He'd been celebrating with-
"Tadashi is here." The voice interrupted his stream of conscious once more, and in his field of view appeared a large, white, balloon-like figure, with a face of two black dots connected by a line. Vinyl arms picked him up off the freezing, concrete floor, and Hiro squinted. It seemed dimmer in the room; there was a buzz in the air that had been present when he'd just run his last test. When he'd fixed it all-
"It is alright to cry. Crying is a natural response to pain and bereavement." The robotic tone belonged to Baymax, who carried Hiro bridal style in attempt to comfort him. Hiro didn't speak in return, still trying to figure out what had happened. Where did Tadashi go, anyways? He'd just been in here a second ago-
Tears that had stung at the corners of Hiro's eyes rolled across his cheek and beaded off of the robot. The teenager hadn't even noticed it to begin with, but only recognized them after he was met with a damp shirt collar. "B-Baymax, did I-?" He struggled to speak, the lump in his throat growing as his fears consumed him.
"You have been sleep talking. Perhaps a further counseling may be necessary to overcome your loss." The lean boy inhaled in a stuttering fashion, paining to keep the air in his chest. He peeked over; the computer was dimly lit on his screensaver, showcasing he'd crashed in the middle of troubleshooting his conference project. Which, in turn, meant he hadn't actually solved the problem after all. "Hiro, your heartrate is increasing steadily."
"S-So…" Hiro continued, the lump growing and impeding his speech as the boy struggled to breathe with his chest feeling so constricted. He'd only imagined that perfect world, where his family was still healthy and living. That explained why he couldn't hear Tadashi very well: he was forgetting the sound of his brother's voice. Analyzing now, Hiro realized it could never be; there's no way the Callaghan incident could've happened, yet his brother survived. After all, that was a big reason why he spited the man. "Tadashi…" He mumbled to himself, his eyes glossing over as he lost emotional control of himself for the first time in years. "Tadashi's gone."
"No." Baymax stated factually, his expression remaining stoic due to his nature as a piece of tech. His stomach lit up softly, emitting a shadow onto the wall behind the two. Hiro heard the nearly musical sound of his brother's test tapes, a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. He couldn't bring himself to look down to see the older boy's optimistic face. The 17 year old began to bawl into the gently worn vinyl of the robot, a summation of his mourning being released privately into the chest of his personal healthcare companion.
"Tadashi is here."