Birds dashed in the air against a sky of azure, a shining golden star known as the sun behind them all while white cotton candy clouds sauntered by haphazardly without a single care about anything in the world.
Hands pressed up against the window, a pair of innocent, wide, brown eyes stared out at the ever-developing world in front of him. Occasionally shifting slightly with the movement of the vehicle, the boy, named Tadashi couldn't help but smile a bit. Pushing the button as the window went down automatically, letting the air breeze in while he let himself be lost in his thoughts.
Sometimes, like this, he'd find himself looking at the people on the streets as they went about their day, the radio pressing on with some random tune that he'd be bopping along to without intending to, but would forget for a few days. Then afterwards, he was pretty sure he'd be doing something only for it to never leave his head when he was trying to think.
It happened a lot, he'd admit it.
The citizens of San Fransokyo probably wouldn't remember him much except for being someone just staring out a window, but one day he did want to be remembered for something more. He wanted to help people - more than anything else in the world. But how? He was certain he would figure out the perfect way to do it, how to be the change he wanted to see in the world. Maybe something with illness or injury? That was still a problem. It was always a problem.
Different people with different stories to tell, stories he probably would never get to hear in his life, strode down the pavements, onto trams and even inside a friend's car every now and again. Some were casual, with flowy dresses or just a shirt and pants. Others caked in black suits and briefcases, probably off to work somewhere.
He'd began seeing those people around more recently. It seemed to involve an increase in employment - he'd heard about it a couple of times when he'd be sat on the carpet with some type of contraption, trying to understand how it worked somehow while he and Hiro's parents watched the news.
Right now, the family of four were heading off to see Aunt Cass down at the Lucky Cat Café for another visit, so as expected; they were all pretty cheerful.
Well...except for Hiro, but he was pretty much falling asleep. He probably wouldn't remember the trip very much, Tadashi was certain of it. He reached over, briefly ruffling Hiro's rather messy head of black hair.
"You okay there, little buddy...?" the voice of their father suddenly called to the back of the car, Tadashi giving a grin as he nodded, only to drop from his position and back onto the leather seat, laughing ever so sheepishly.
"Yeah…!" Tadashi answered, assuringly, hands in his lap. Eyes scrolling to the window, he noticed something odd; one of those suits, the ones he'd been seeing more often, stared at him. Shifting uncomfortably, he decided just to look ahead. Eep...
Sat on the left side with his mother at the wheel, Tadashi looked. He tilted his head, a sense of confusion sinking in. Her general smile seemed to indicate she was fine, but everything else was off.
Her fingers would always rest casually. They now tightly gripped onto the wheel, nails about to dig into the surface. Her posture would be upwards, straight, yet relaxed. Yet something here was forced, as it seemed like she wanted more than anything just to lean back. Each second, she fidgeted, whistling constantly to make it sound like a cheery song instead of a nervous tremor, eyes rolled skyward.
His eyes fluttered shut and then opened softly, his face slackened with a sincere look, tugging a bit on her cardigan. "Are you okay…?"
"Yes. Just a bit on edge is all."
"Huh…? Why?"
"I don't know; just one of those days, I guess. I'll feel better soon, don't you worry about me, you silly boy." their mother gave a soft smile, squeezing his hand as they stopped at a light, blinking from amber to scarlet moments later.
Deciding to return to the window, Tadashi closed it with the push of a button before noticing a black car coming down the lane at a strange speed. Strangely, he couldn't decipher how fast they were going, and judging by his mother's stricken face; even adults or someone who had aced the test on speed during Maths like he had couldn't decipher it either.
All the while, he forced himself to try and find something familiar on the outside - catching the top of the Lucky Cat Café just down the road. Good, good. Once they got there it meant they could get out of the car, have fun with their aunt and forget the eerie air that was floating around them all, it even affecting his three-year-old brother, who was now grumbling and mumbling in his sleep.
Tadashi's lips pressed firmly together, fists clenched as they pulled away from the car's glass barriers. His stomach intent on rolling around in his body, enough that he had to clench his throat tightly. This didn't make sense.
This made no sense, none, zero, he was being ridiculous.
It was just the street, it just had to be the street.
He had to have eaten something that had gone bad without them knowing it or something, something bad had caught him while he had let the air come into the window. Soon they'd all be home, complaining about a sick bug, laughing and joking a week later.
More than anything, he didn't want to look again at that strange driver. The one who seemed to be locked in a different time than everyone else, gears seeming to be ticking all the while. Trying to rid the feeling like he was about to cough out the breakfast he had this morning if he was lucky, Tadashi turned to his sleeping sibling, the only one in the car who was somewhat oblivious to the tension.
The luckiest one here.
Traffic slowed to a crawl up ahead, the world taunting the quartet. Those who were awake had to smile and bear it, but Tadashi couldn't, his only remedy to be trying to take in the average sounds of the city he had grown used to for seven years. After a few minutes, it seemed to be working, that sickly feeling beginning to disappear.
Then it happened.
A raven room suddenly screeched in a complaint as it grew too close for comfort, screams echoing in the Hamadas' tiny car.
His breath was stolen from him, Tadashi being thrown into his mother's seat and only saved from being crushed by it due to his tightly-fastened seat belt. But it wasn't much of a rescue.
Restrained to the leather seat, he felt his head being forced back onto it as the vehicle skidded out of control, heading straight for a lamppost. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut, a cold and careless liquid trickling down his skin. Feeling about his body, there were only scratches, bruises. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. Everything stopped.
Trying to regain his breath, slowly, Tadashi forced himself to look up again.
If he could have a wish at this moment; it would have been that he hadn't. That he hadn't decided to look up.
Why did he do it? With the impact, he should have known that looking up would only have given him a horrific sight.
More than anything, Tadashi wished that he had just kept his head down and not wondered what that dripping on his skin was.
Right in front of him, her head practically twisted against the back of the seat, was his mother. Her neck crunching backwards with a horrible snap, her body mangled like a puppet on strings, briefly nodding loose as the car forced itself to stop upon impacting against the street's lamppost. She'd shut her eyes as well, but her face was contorted into one of permanent terror.
"M...Mom…" Tadashi choked out, throat becoming raw within seconds.
In desperation, he glanced over at his father to see if he had made it; but no - while his body hadn't been as brutally mangled as his mother's, the black car having crashed into his mother's side; his father wasn't moving, not even twitching, his neck snapped, head halfway out the window.
In the sunlight, there was a glint. It was his father's glasses, smashed out in the street.
'No, no…' Tadashi thought. He did not want to be the only one left who could still breathe.
His aching hands dragged over to the buckle of the seatbelt, pressing down with all his might.
Hiro was still breathing. He was crying.
He was alive.
Within seconds, Tadashi crawled over, across the seat to his little brother, who was crying endlessly. His breath trembled, choking out a quick source of comfort; "Y-you're going to be fine...we're...okay, buddy, we're...fine…" tears still streaming down his cheeks, the cracks in the corner of his eye, his ribs burned horribly, even breathing was pure agony.
Several people were gathered around the car, a man choking out a horrified, "Oh god…"
A woman, shuddering and pulling out her phone, dialling the ambulance to come to salvage what was left.
Halfway slanted down the road, Tadashi's eyes squinted for a familiar face once more, the rest of his face hidden in Hiro's hair, holding his baby brother close, terrified if he let go then he would look back and Hiro would be gone too.
Both had no choice but to hold on, his neck strained endlessly, his head pounding like a drum.
Those screams from earlier, when it all happened.
His parents shocked into silence. Hiro awakening with a start.
It didn't take long for him to realize that they had been his.
"Wait! I think there are still people alive in there!"
"No…! My family….! My...that's...that's my family….!" a strangled cry rang through the air, interrupted by sobs over and over again. Aunt Cass.
Someone ran away. They stepped out of a strange room, or vehicle; he couldn't remember properly as everything blurred.
He was quite certain that the car was ebony.
But it didn't matter now, as Tadashi had to be sure - that the only people he had left weren't torn away too. He never wanted anyone to go through this again. It felt worse than death.
Hiro didn't remember properly. But Tadashi did. He would never forget, he never could forget. Living through that felt worse than death, as you had to carry the grief around with you. With death, everything would stop. Not in his case.
Even years later; Tadashi Hamada knew this better than all the formulas in every test he'd ever done, no matter how many times he memorized them; he would always remember that horrible day as vividly as he had seen it, even after eleven years had gone by.
Even when he was older.
Even when he was certain himself one day, on that night with his body trapped under a beam, that he was going to die right there and then.