It was Hiro's earliest memory, hearing those words.
I'm not giving up on you.
He was around two and a half, struggling to say his older brother's name. Tadashi had been almost ten at the time, smiling as he gently prodded Hiro with those six words. It was quite a mouthful for a toddler: TA-DA-SHI. Too long, now that he thought about it.
You were always pushing me to do my best, Hiro thought wryly, shaking his head as he placed a bouquet of fresh flowers over Tadashi's grave. I may have a big brain, but you don't put that sort of pressure on a toddler, you know.
Hiro smiled and sat cross-legged on the grass, uncaring if it'll stain his jeans. It's been seven months since his first big adventure with Baymax and the others—well, okay, friends—and having them around has eased the pain of losing Tadashi.
But it's still there, a creature biding its time, striking when he least expected it. Like a week ago, when he was working on some modifications on Baymax's rocket fist, he swiveled his chair around to rest his eyes a bit, and he ended up facing Tadashi's side of the room. His gaze followed the dust motes drifting lazily amid the beam of sunlight that fell on his brother's bed, causing the creature to pounce and squeeze at his chest painfully to remind him that Tadashi's gone.
Hiro had ended up at Fred's, playing video games that would probably worry Aunt Cass, to numb the grief. And Fred, thankfully, had been perceptive enough to realize what gnawed at him and kept him distracted with trash talk that got to his competitive side.
He could practically see Tadashi before him shaking his head ruefully. "You know I like to win," he said defensively. "At least I don't go bot-fighting now. And Fred's a worthy opponent—the guy knew how to use joke characters to kick my butt!"
"Anyway," Hiro said after a minute of silence, "I'd better get going. See you." He got up and brushed the bits of grass and dirt from his jeans as he stared at his brother's name etched on the marble slab over his grave.
Tadashi. Loyalty in Japanese. Well, you certainly lived up to your name, big brother. You never gave up on me, even when you were gone.
Hiro remained rooted at his spot, clenching his jaw as his eyes stung with unshed tears. "Thanks for everything, Tadashi. I'm going to make sure to return the favor. Baymax has helped a lot of people—probably not the way you intended him to, but I'm sure you don't mind, right?"
He could have sworn he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. Hiro chose to believe it was Tadashi, telling him that it'll be all right.
That he'd always be with him, no matter what.