This will just be a quick little thing. Probably not even 1,000 words. I just always thought that running into that building was a really stupid thing for Tadashi to do, because he should have realized Hiro would run after him. He put his little brother in danger. But I still love you Tadashi! *cries eternally*

A Smart Brother

Maybe Tadashi wasn't as smart as everyone thought he was. That was what Hiro Hamada was thinking, the night of his brother's funeral. Hiro was curled up in his bed, the blanket wrapped tightly against his small form, and staring at the empty bed in the room with him. The bed that should have held his brother. His older brother should have been in that bed right now, snoring softly, and mumbling in his sleep every now and again, tossing and turning through the night.

But he wasn't.

He was gone.

Forever.

Everyone always went on about how great Tadashi was. How handsome. And kind. And smart. And despite the fact that it made him feel like he was living in the shadow of some glorious, untouchable God, Hiro agreed. With all those things. But not tonight.

What kind of boy who was 'oh so smart' would run into a burning building?

The answer rang in Hiro's head, in a scolding tone. In times of grief, apparently his subconscious couldn't be kind to him, and instead treated him like he was idiot who should have known. The kind of boy who wanted to save a life.

Well look how that had turned out. Tadashi was dead, and so was Professor Callaghan. If Tadashi was such so smart, why hadn't he realized that it was much too late to save anyone's life? And what about Hiro's life? Didn't Tadashi know that without him, Hiro had nothing? Their whole life, no matter what happened, the two Hamada brothers always had each other's back. Hiro hadn't really done anything to prove this, but Tadashi knew, just like Hiro would have known, even if Tadashi didn't frequently rescue him from getting the snot kicked out of him by the angry men he'd swindled.

And didn't he know that Hiro would run after him? Wherever Tadashi went, Hiro followed. So why didn't it occur to his older brother that even if the place he was going was a burning building, Hiro would faithfully follow after? If he had been given only a few more seconds, the younger Hamada would have been in that blaze along side the older. Hiro could have died along with Tadashi that night. Didn't Tadashi realize that? Apparently not. Because if he had, he wouldn't have run into that building, because he would never put his younger brother in that kind of danger.

"You're so dumb, Tadashi." Hiro whispered to the empty room, tears soaking his pillow as he pulled his blanket over his head, so he wouldn't have to see the other bed in the room anymore. He could have just gone and pulled the divider between them, but now that he was in the bed, he couldn't bring himself to get back out. He'd have to do it tomorrow.

"A smart brother would never have run into that building. He would've known it was useless." A tear rolled down his nose, and it was quickly followed by some friends. "And he would have known I would go after him." Hiro choked out. It was more than he'd spoken since Tadashi's death three days earlier. His words were soft and broken, coming out like he'd just been strangled. And that's how it felt to the fourteen year old. Like he'd been held down and strangled, until he'd lost his reason for breathing.

"A smart brother would have known I couldn't go on without him."

How did Tadashi expect him to survive this? Hiro couldn't go on alone. He'd already lost his mother and father. He had no friends of his own, because everyone thought he was a freak. The only one he had in this whole wide stupid world, was his older brother.

And now, he didn't even have him.

Hiro may be a genius, but he was still only a child. And no child wanted to face the world alone. What was someone supposed to do when they lost the one they couldn't replace?

Why had his brother gone somewhere he couldn't follow?

The room around him was dark and dismal, and not just because it was night, and he had the lights off, and the blanket pulled over his head. The whole world had lost color. And there was nothing Hiro could do to bring it back.

The young, sad, and broken boy curled up tighter in his ball. In his hands, was his brother's hat, which he curled around like it was a small child that he was protecting out in the wild. His cries were getting louder, and he held them back. If Aunt Cass heard him, she'd cry too. And he didn't want to see her cry.

"A smart brother...would never have left me alone."

He clutched the hat to his chest. He tried not to picture his brother. But it was impossible. All the smiles, and laughter, and tears, and fights shot through his head like they'd been fired out of a gun that pierced his skull.

And Hiro cried.