Hiro started to tremble with rage because this entire situation was unacceptable. "Un-fucking-believable…"
"Don't give us that crap, Hiro." Gogo snapped suddenly, down to the last straw, "we've spent the last year getting tossed around like rag dolls; we're officially college graduates now. We could barely make time for it before, but now? You want us to pass up these opportunity's that were handed to us on silver platters—opportunity's that a lot of other students will never get—to continue with this routine of getting the crap beaten out of us every. Day. Hm?"
The others didn't argue because they couldn't; none of them were willing to continue being superheroes, even Fred needed to pick up his family business after it was passed to him.
Even though they had been doing this for Tadashi, the friend that had begun to wander in and out of their memories, they were done. But Hiro wasn't. He wasn't because his brother's memory was still fresh on his mind, because Hiro could still help people for Tadashi.
So Hiro bitterly watched as his 'friends' packed and left. Wasabi was headed for Tokyo. Gogo and Fred were going to New York. Honey Lemon, with one desperate 'last hug,' was hauled onto the plane to San Francisco by one of her new colleagues.
The same night, the young Hamada was donning his armor like he had every night for the past year, as though his friends would come to the garage like they always had. Still, despite the minor set back that was their lack of appearance, Hiro continued through his patrol trying not to be unnerved by the lack of bickering in his comm.
Nearing 3 am, the 'Lone Ranger' decided to head home, knowing that was the most of the city he could patrol on foot. What was that? It was the slightest flash of a scarlet parasol; sure sign of a Fujita. And where there are Fujita's, there is always trouble.
Without hesitation, Hiro started to tail her down several back alleys and unused old roads. Until they were at an abandoned subway station, he had thought that she was oblivious to his prescience, but as soon as he rounded the last corner into the main terminal she attacked with three hidden companions.
During his beat down Hiro's consciousness came and went until it was gone for good. Instead of dying though, Hiro woke up in an apartment similar to his own above the café. Realizing that he had no idea where he was, Hiro tried to stand but suddenly found that a key component for this action was missing; his right leg. As soon he noticed his near fatal wound he also noticed that someone had treated it already. As he was inspecting his bandaged stump someone walked in and smiled at the hero, "Oh yes! You're up!" he laughed, bringing Hiro a plate of sushi, "how you feelin' bro-tato chip?"
Hiro, being clueless as to most of his current situation, decided to latch onto the question that he had been asking himself, "uh… I don't…uh, numb…?" he tried to respond.
"Eh, emotionally or physically?"
"…B-both?"
The other boy, who Hiro belatedly realized was strangely familiar, nodded, "yeah. My bro's a med student and, cause we're so far from any hospitals, he just fixed you up in the kitchen." Hiro noticed that the refrigerator and oven were splattered in blood as he mumbled a detached 'thank you' and the boy continued, "Yeah, don't worry about it; live in a rough part of town you know? We do stuff like this all the time. That's why you're on hospital grade drugs right now. Eat up." Hiro took a bite of the sushi he was offered as he inspected the boy sitting next to him. It was probably the drugs that he had mentioned, but Hiro couldn't brush off the idea that this guy looked just like him. Aside from the white hair. I am so high right now. This must be why Tadashi always told me to stay away from drugs. He thought as he blacked out again.