Tadashi was freaking out.

He'd awoken, bleary-eyed and groggy, to the sight of an empty room.

It was Mochi who had actually woke him up, pawing at the blanket bunched up around his calves. He shifted and watched as the fat cat, eyes closed, circled and settled into what it deemed as a satisfactory position in the bend of his knee.

Only then did he let his eyes wander past the divider that separated the room, gaze automatically going to the bed that was pushed against the opposite wall. However, when he spotted the covers untouched and devoid of the small form that was his little brother, Tadashi started.

He shot up like a rocket, Mochi startling with a surprised hiss.

"Hiro?" he called out urgently, dread pooling at the base of his stomach as he jumped out of bed and crossed the room. But there was no answer, only the eerie silence of the night.

There was a flash of a burning building and of a desperate hold on his arm. Pleading eyes and a small whisper of 'Tadashi, no' blazed a hot trail right through his heart, which left him reeling and needing to grab onto a shelf for support. His left hand hurt.

Tadashi might have gone a little crazy then.

He burst into action, the routine uncomfortably familiar. His body knew what to do even if his mind was somewhat lost, moving with confidence he didn't feel to search the house. Not in their room, sleeping. Not in the garage with his secret project. Not even perched on the kitchen counter, stuffing his face with leftovers.

A quick check revealed that Baymax, case and all, was gone as well.

He rummaged around his drawers, searching for the one thing that could help him. It had been months since he'd touched it, even longer since he'd last used it. If Aunt Cass and Hiro had found it when he was in the hospital, subsequently moving it, then there wouldn't be anything he could do.

He sighed in relief when he finally found his handheld tracker, hidden underneath a pile of his neatly folded socks.

Then he had to deal with the problem as to where to go from there, this diverging from his usual routine and stopped him short. He couldn't just hop on his moped himself, less Aunt Cass wake up and have a heart attack. Not to mention the state he was in; the worst scenario included him falling asleep behind the wheel and crashing- that is, if he could even figure out how to steer with only one hand.

No, he couldn't do this by himself.

The possibility of Honey being awake was slim, but he texted her nonetheless. Even when they were arguing, his friends were some of the only people he could properly count on in a situation like this. He desperately hoped she was awake.

In the middle of debating whether to go through with his solo plan (which included padding across the room and biting his nails down to nubs while he worried himself grey), whether or not Honey responded back, his phone vibrated. He thanked whatever deity was out there that he could count on Honey having her phone nearby (Tadashi swore she was attuned to the thing telepathically). A quick reply asking her to message everyone, highlighting that it was an emergency, and he was set.

It should have been surprising that she was immediate in assuring him that she'd get everyone at his house pronto- and at this hour, which was ungodly, but Honey was beyond reliable.

He ended up not needing to change, having fallen asleep in his day clothes. Grabbing a jacket and his shoes he tiptoed down the stairs and snuck out through the side. By the time Wasabi's (new- when had that happened?) car pulled up, he was ready to search all of San Fransokyo.

Honey Lemon and GoGo came out to meet him while Fred and Wasabi remained seated inside the car.

"Tadashi, oh!" Honey hugged him, nearly squeezing the life out of him. "What happened? Are you okay? Not feeling well? It doesn't matter what- we're here to help!"

"Thanks, Honey," he said sincerely, rubbing his left arm gently. "I'm fine, but, well, it's just that Hiro's missing- Baymax, too- and it's kinda hard to go after him with this."

Honey made a sympathetic noise when he inclined his bandaged arm while Gogo barely offered the thing a glance.

GoGo, never one to dilly dally, took the reins. "We'll look for him. You stay here."

Tadashi felt the frown forming on his face. He crossed his arms across his chest, watching as the short girl took in its passive aggressive demeanor. "What do you mean? I'm coming with you, obviously."

"Yeah, no. You're staying here. We'll find Hiro." Gogo turned, dismissing him. Tadashi was mildly offended at being disregarded like that, but pushed it aside. He had Hiro to worry about and he didn't have time for the pointless arguing.

"Good luck finding him without me," he called as she made her way to the car.

She turned at his tone and Tadashi brought out his tracker and waved it when he got all of their attention. He tried not to look too smug at their expressions, knowing they'd probably forgotten about his extra measures at keeping tabs on his brother.

Gogo narrowed her eyes, lips pressed tightly together as she eyed him. Tadashi made sure to look as cool and collected as he could, and not like he was unraveling at his very seams with worry over his brother. He brought his shoulders back in that determined fashion he always saw Hiro do when dealing with people three heads taller than him, standing his ground even as his friend continued to eye him critically.

"You're not doing this without me," he said stubbornly, "and I'll go out by myself if you try."

"Tadashi," Honey all but whined, "you're making this so hard. It's dangerous for you to be alone."

"And it isn't for you?" He challenged.

She didn't have anything to say to that, stepping behind GoGo.

He sighed, feeling guilty but irritated all at once. "Look, I've gone out into gang-infested territory before- this isn't the first time Hiro's snuck out- and if I'd known this was what you guys were going to do, then I wouldn't have called you." He tried to ignore the hurt expression on Honey and Fred's faces. He'd apologize later. "Don't think you can stop me from going now."

"He has a point." Wasabi shrugged helplessly from his seat and Tadashi was relieved that at least one of them agreed with him.

Honey turned to the big man, aghast. "Wasabi! We have to have a unified front!"

"I'm sorry! I can't deal with this stress and he does have a point and I don't know what to do!"

Fred piped up from the back seat, "Unified front destroyed! Tadashi's coming!"

Four separate shushes were directed at the comic nerd and his louder than acceptable exclamation. Fred merely nodded and pretended to zip his mouth shut, lock it and throw away the key.

Wasabi fiddled with some controls. "We should hurry before it gets even later. We don't want to waste time we could be using to look for Hiro."

Suddenly, GoGo stomped to the passenger seat, slamming the door harder than necessary. One glare had Wasabi's complaint about her treatment of his new car stifled. A moment passed where no one knew what to do, Honey standing awkwardly between Tadashi and the car.

GoGo sighed, blowing her bangs out of her face, "Get in, Hamada."

Tadashi smiled at the victory, jumping into the backseat without further ado and squeezing between Honey and Fred.

Fred hugged him with more passion than he'd expected when he buckled in. He unzipped his mouth, "Oh man, it's been too long, dude! Do you know how hard it was to not tell you anything? Really hard. We were the best of bros, separated by a deadly secret- I thought we'd never talk again!"

"Fred, you still haven't told me anything."

But Fred didn't hear him, too focused on his next words, "Don't worry Tadashi, we'll set it aside in the name of our youngest team member. Nothing will get in between us when the little man needs our help."

"Well, you're the one with all the answers now, Hamada," Gogo said as Wasabi turned on the ignition, pulling out a piece of gum from the confines of her jacket and popping it into her mouth. "What do your brotherly instincts say? Which direction?"

Tadashi ignored the girl's sarcastic tone as he looked down at the tracker, quickly getting his bearings, and pointed north.

"Alright. Let's go find your know-it-all brother."

"Incoming!"

The call and the wave of talk that followed was loud enough to make Hiro pause in his nightly work of installing a screen to one of the walls of the derby. He was nearly finished, as he had started just as the sun was setting (god, when had he become so nocturnal) and had made good time since.

Thick coils in his hand, the teenager twisted to see what the sudden commotion was widened when they saw the snow-white fabric peeking through the bodies.

Baymax.

Uncaring of the loud thud the coils made as they hit the ground, drawing the momentary attention of quite a few people, Hiro jumped down from the stool and quickly made his way over. He ignored the curious questions asked by the kids who had become his walking shadows in the last forty-eight hours, attention solely on his best friend.

"Give him some space!" Someone yelled when people started convulsing toward the downed robot like a meteor getting sucked into a planet's gravitational field.

"What happened?" Hiro demanded over the growing commotion, shoving people to the side so to get closer. They parted before him after one look at his face, but no one answered him. Hiro could feel his face contorting into a mask of anger, fist far too ready to start swinging if anyone got in his way, only to stop abruptly when he made it to the center of the mass and saw something that made his blood run cold: a beat up Baymax being gently laid onto a bar seconds after its tabletop was wiped clean with a sweep of large hands, uncaring the mess it made at their feet.

His nursebot was in ruins. The vinyl ripped and dirtied, looking pathetic without air inflating it. Occasionally, Baymax's head twitched, sparks flying from where wires were cut raggedly and jutting out of the frame.

He spotted a familiar face off to the side, slowly edging away. The broker, the very one he had solicited information from (honestly, did everyone know each other down here?), stopped when Hiro caught his eye, staring at him with fear, surprise, and something else he couldn't name. Though Hiro didn't spend much time on that, instead finding himself in front of the young man, shoulders back and needing someone to blame. "What. Happened."

The man paled under his unrestrained anger, leaning back. "H-hey don't look at me like that- I sure as heck didn't do this."

Suddenly a presence was behind him and he inched his head to the side, seeing flash of blue color in his peripheral vision. A Fujita, whom he barely recognized as one of the three he had fought weeks prior, was staring at his hands- which were fisted into the front of the broker's jacket.

Hiro blinked, momentarily surprised to know that he didn't remember getting physical, and let go, backing away. The small Fujita didn't loosen her grip on her parasol nor did that intensely serious look leave her dead eyes.

Damato fixed his jacket, moving himself until he was clear of the robot (and, in respect, Hiro) and stood between the Fujita and a man splattered with freckles- Connor, the ticket man. He set a hand on the other's shoulder, nodding his head when the younger look at him nervously.

"Ahem, well, I found him like this- well, no, I saw it happen-," Hiro jaw tensed, eyes narrowed at the young man who sat back and watched his friend get torn to pieces, "obviously, I wanted to help, but there were too many-," air rushed in and out of the teenager's nose like a boar barely containing the need to charge, "-and that masked man showed up, so it wasn't my fault."

If possible, Hiro tensed even further. "Yokai? Why would Yokai show up?" There would be- should be no reason for Callaghan to trash Baymax, not on the tight schedule he was on. "No. He wouldn't just- you're lying to save your own skin, aren't you?"

"No, I swear. I'm telling the truth. He showed up with that weird, black mass thing and-"

Hiro snorted. "Unlikely. The probability of Yokai showing up now and anywhere near Baymax, is so low that-"

"It could still happen though-"

"-it can only mean either you're lying or you're delusional-"

"I know what I saw- I'm not going crazy!" The broker glared fiercely at Hiro, face going blotchy in response to the bursting nerve the genius just probed. "Why would I lie about this?"

"I don't know, but I do know that if you don't give me good enough reason I'm gonna-" It was impossible to not notice that agitated shift in the mass at his open ended threat, but Hiro, too engrossed in being upset, didn't care. He'd take them all on if he had to. For Baymax, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

"There was someone with him, okay!" Damato yelled, bending just like any heated metal under stress. "I… don't know who or why, but I saw some of Yama's hired help taking them."

"Aren't you guys Yama's hired help?" Hiro asked through clenched teeth, eyes trailing across the sea of faces that stiffened under his gaze, even the children.

"Sometimes, yeah." Damato had gotten small again, slouching as if he wanted the crowd to swallow him whole. He spoke for the group, though, as if he belonged with them- and he probably did, Hiro thought, spineless as he was. "But, we usually don't do stuff like that- more sensitive stuff like-"

"Like assassination." Hiro saw red momentarily when he thought of a defenseless Tadashi in the hands of these people.

The young man looked away. "Among other things…"

Connor chose then to speak up, looking like a philosopher pondering the question of life itself. "I wonder who it was that Baymax was trying to protect."

Damato shifted, uncomfortable. "I don't know, some kid."

Hiro felt his whole body tense, but ordered it to relax not even half a second later. It was best not to even begin to let on the possibility that he was related to this event. He tried not to think about how the possibility of the kid being his younger self was exponentially high or about the even higher chance of someone Hiro knew spotting him.

"It could be no one- someone who has nothing to do with this, but was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Brown eyes lowered to the ground and right as he feigned disinterest. His voice, when he spoke, was steady. "That isn't unusual. Baymax's entire protocol is to help prevent and treat injury- everyone has the potential to be a patient."

"I don't know… if Yokai showed up, it can't just be someone random or unimportant," Connor said thoughtfully. When he crossed his arms, the snake tattoos that curled up each of them shifted. "Maybe they're someone who has more to do with that we think."

The genius did not like where this was going. "Let's not jump to conclusions-"

"Hi- rooo…" A voice suddenly slurred behind him, causing Hiro, among others, to jump in surprise.

The teenager immediately whipped around to see Baymax give a violent twitch. Opticals focused and unfocused in unsynchronized patterns, giving the robot an appearance of grogginess. Hiro didn't hesitate to turn his back to everyone and make his way to the table, back arching as he bent over it and offered a cracked smile. "Hey, buddy. It's good to see you."

"I-I am he-health-c-care…" Definite damage to the voice modulator. "H…. ro…"

"Yeah, I'm here." He shooshed the robot, hand automatically coming up and patting the dented head with care. Anger made room for worry and compassion. "Don't you worry, I'll find out who did this and then I'll make you as good as new and you can go back to back to helping people, just-" He swallowed thickly. "Just like you're supposed to."

"H-Hello, I-I-I am B-Bay-ay-ay-ay." Hiro jerked back just as Baymax shot up, a grinding coming from his chest. He made to push him back down, only the robot swung his arm and stumbled off the bar and onto his feet. "I-I w-w-wil scan y-you n-n-now. Diag-no-no-si-si-sis comp-plete."

"Whoa, whoa… keep it together, Baymax." Hiro tried to grab a hand, missing it as Baymax kept on swinging. "Why don't you lay do- whoa!" He caught a tool box before it crashed to the floor, ducking when another arm almost got him from the side.

A flock of the surrounding crowd strode forward, but Baymax spun around haphazardly and they backed up as one unit. One of the children tripped, falling onto their butt.

The nursebot drunkenly stepped forward, bending so that when his arm sporadically twitched he unbalanced himself and tumbled to the ground. Hiro grabbed the kid under their armpits and pulled them back before the weight of the robot could crush them.

"You alright?" he asked the small Fujita in his arms. Her grey-blue eyes were impossibly wide as she nodded. "Good- stay here."

Cautiously, Hiro crouched beside Baymax. "Baymax?"

A white hand was raised in Baymax's signature gesture, followed by a short pause. "F-Flow-ow-ower… m-man-h-h-hood-d… pubesce-sce-ent..."

Hiro refrained from face palming. "Yeah, up you go."

Hands came to help him and Hiro only spared a glance to see that Damato had gotten under Baymax for more support (why couldn't anyone let him hate them and be angry and just leave it at that?). With his help, they got the robot back on the bar top without knocking over too many bottles in the process.

"H-have a loll-lol-lol-i-ipop!" the robot hiccuped, patting Damato like he would Mochi. The young man, much to Hiro's annoyance, took it in awkward silence.

"Alright, buddy," he told his friend as he slowly released his grip, ready to charge in if the robot started to tip over. "I'm gonna have to shut you down for a while- just until we get you up and running again."

Baymax hiccupped, feet tapping against the bar, but made no further comment as Hiro reached past the vinyl and grasped at the chest cavity of the metal frame. He felt around until he could pinpoint where it connected with the port and twisted, disconnecting the entire thing. Baymax went limp and it was only Hiro's fast reflexes that stopped him from toppling over.

"What did you do?"

Hiro didn't spare the kid a glance as he laid down the robot as gently as he could. He could hear people start to inch forward, more confident now the threat of being whacked in the face by a drunk nursebot was gone. "The damage done on him is extensive enough that it'll be easier to work if he isn't activated."

"Is it bad?" the boy twin asked, barely tall enough to peek over the tabletop.

The genius lifted the vinyl, ducking his head to peer inside. He lips thinned to a tight line. "He's seen better days."

There was a silence, long enough that it caught Hiro's attention and had him tearing his eyes away from his friend and down. The twin's sister had joined her brother at some point, taking on the same despondent expression as they looked upon Baymax. Hiro felt his gut clench (he wanted to be angry, but these were kids and it was so much harder to rage when the faces staring at him looked so…sad).

"Hey, it isn't your fault," he told them, pointedly omitting the fact that the blame could probably be divided and attached to quite a few persons in the room. "Baymax won't stay broken forever. That's the great thing about robots- they can be fixed and remade."

"Dad said there was some shipment they were collecting," one of the twins supplied randomly, confusion and mild disappointment coloring her eyes, taking one of Baymax's deflated hands into hers. "Said they were supposed to pick it up for Yama, but he didn't say anything about hurting anyone."

Hiro blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Sometimes he forgot that these kids were born to the criminal life, that they had parents- uncles, step brothers, guardians- who went around doing notorious crime. That, though the world labeled them as villains, these children saw none of that, but just someone who cared for them- like Tadashi and Aunt Cass had for him.

Again, his gut twisted, only it was in the realization that he was letting his anger get the best of him. He'd learned years ago that blaming other people wouldn't lead him anywhere, but here he was doing just that and acting like the jerks he so hated as a kid.

It was that thinking that had him saying, "I'm sure it's a misunderstanding."

"Hey, what are we going to do about him?" a Fujita with a fan asked, popping out of nowhere and jabbing her fan in the direction of Baymax, effectively breaking the spell he had been cast under.

Hiro jerked before stepping closer to his best friend, edge of the bar digging into his side. He didn't like how a collected few were staring hungrily at the inter-workings of Baymax, obviously noticing the state of the art tech there and how much it was worth on the market, damaged or not. "I'm going to fix him."

"Yeah, with what?" There was some dissatisfied grumbles among the crowd now that any possibility of having at Baymax's tech was off the table.

"With parts you give me," Hiro stated with authority he didn't possess, tone obvious. He angled his head towards Ren, the woman unusually silent, and met her inquisitive gaze. "This'll be part of the deal."

The woman eyed him, as was her way, and Hiro wondered again if she was going to deny him this- double cross him again. He knew he was asking for a lot, adding on and on to the deal they had made, and hadn't even begun to complete his half as of yet. She had asked for information on him in return of her help and he was still reluctant to relinquish it. Surely she would demand retribution or a sort of payment for this, never one to give out handouts freely.

But, in contrast to Hiro's silent doubts, she nodded. "Give him what he needs."

It wasn't long before an assortment of parts were spread out before him, most with at least a bit of wear. They were reluctantly given at first, though that disappeared once an eye was cast over at Baymax's sad form (it wasn't all that surprising that the nursebot had captured their hearts so quickly- Baymax was just as easy to love as he was to hug). Hiro set to prepare the robot, shifting things around so that better access was available and assigning the kids, who appeared eager in every way, to organize the parts by size.

Then, there was only one more thing to do.

The robot's access port opened without trouble, revealing a perfectly pristine and unbroken chip. It was cool in his fingers, the feeling of its ridges sending a wave of relief coursing through his veins. Even though he hated the thought of his friend being inactive, he couldn't afford to wrestle with the robot every time he came online.

"What's that?" one of the kids asked, loud and oblivious.

Hiro clutched the thing tight in his hands, unwilling to let anyone see or touch it. He didn't like how it had gone silent in the moment he had opened the port. He spotted Ren and the ticket booth man to his left, peering curiously at the chip in his hand- Hiro tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"It's what makes Baymax, Baymax." An echo of words spoken in what seemed like so long ago; it was the only explanation he'd allow.

"Like his soul," Chip-boy stated, pleased with how well his suggestion fit.

Hiro didn't say answer, only rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and deciding that if he wasn't going to break down he needed to keep his mind occupied and get to work. He looked for the biggest opening in the vinyl, and when he found it he didn't hesitate to dig right in, hands flying as he searched for all the possible problems.

There'd been numerous times where he'd updated his Baymax and, although this one was different, he knew every part like it was his own. He clicked a few frames back into place, fixed those that were jammed, and straightened the metal spine as best he could. He cut wires that were too frayed and disposed of parts that were beyond repair (thankfully that only added up to only a cylinder piece of his forearm, a washer that set his coccyx, and two bolts that pinned to place his cerebral cord- nothing irreplaceable).

All the while, Baymax's dull, lifeless eyes stared holes into Hiro.

He did his best to ignore that the several other pairs of eyes following his every move; watching him fix an audio system was one thing, but Baymax was another. Though Hiro didn't snap at them to mind their own business like he usually would have, finding that he was simply tired of speaking and interacting with people in general- the trouble it would've caused, not to mention the resulting argument that would've surely followed, was not worth it.

So, he let them watch.

Let them watch and tried not to despair over the sight of his friend. Tried not think about how everything just looked hopeless, so broken. How there was no possible way to-

No, Hiro shook his head, he was not going down that road. Baymax was going to get better, going to be fixed so well that it would be as if he hadn't been anything else than perfect in the first place. Hiro was a genius, a prodigy, and nothing was impossible for him.

And so, with renewed determination, Hiro set to barking orders to whoever was next to him, never tearing his eyes away from his friend, and set to work. He took the parts that were offered to him, nodding at some and rejecting others, and ordered others to lift the robot at a certain angle.

He was an oiled machine with a goal- a purpose, and, without a doubt, he was going to achieve it.

The ride was short and bumpy, Hiro being jostled around in the back the van. He was more than positive that he'd have a collection of bruises after once again hitting his head against one of the crates, just like he was more than positive whoever was driving was breaking more traffic laws than Gogo could ever dream of.

He never stopped struggling. Thankfully, his legs remained untied, leaving him enough freedom to kick against the crates and van wall- he took extra pleasure in thumping against the thin wall that separate the driver and the storage, especially when one of men driving shotgun opened the small window and snapped at him to stop before he broke his legs. Hiro reserved himself to knocking over crates then, taking in stride that when one fell and cracked open, a landslide of microbots tumbled out; if anything, it fueled his anger and resolution, overcoming the fear for the time being.

Then the rollercoaster ride ended, the van's velocity coming to an abrupt halt.

He jerked when the back doors bursts open, revealing more thugs (they didn't look happy at the spill of microbots in the back of their van). When one reached for him he kicked out, only for his foot to be grabbed and pulled. He added carpet burn to his growing list of injuries as he was dragged, his struggling ignored. Then he was manhandled again, draped across someone else's shoulder.

Hiro twisted to get some hint as to where he was, the moonless sky barely giving him any light.

The view of San Fransokyo was amazing, it's lights blazing far, far below him. Beyond that the bay was a dark mass, illuminated by the San Fransokyo Bridge- it looked so small and insignificant, unsettling in how it paralleled his feelings so accurately. Hiro squinted, trying to spot his house in the sea of lights, or even SFIT for that matter, but nothing was distinguishable from this height.

One thing was for sure: the chances of him getting back home were slim.

He shivered from the cold wind and couldn't help the whimper that escaped him. It got even worse when the thug carrying passed a wooden gate, the city disappearing from view entirely as heavy doors were shut and locked after them with reverberating force.

The couple manning them didn't offer him a glance. Hiro couldn't help but stare, wide eyed, at the objects held loosely in their grasp. He had never seen a gun before.

He was just short of hyperventilating at this point (an impressive feat, considering his entire night so far), the looming house where they were heading giving him a horrible feeling.

It was huge and elegant, like any traditional Japanese homes the wealthier citizens had in the better parts in town. The front yard was huge, having a curvy walkway of smooth stones and garden that looked like a jungle. The garden, which looked well-kept and organized- not a leaf out of place- while still retaining that chaotic feel, drew his eye. Patches of spotted lilies took over the garden, placed at every corner and running along the path they took.

More people- servants, by the look of their traditional clothing and submissive postures- were stationed at the door, bowing low before ushering them inside. When they entered the house, Hiro was greeted with such extravagance that he was sure he had stumbled into a palace fit for a noble or an emperor, with its high ceiling raised on tall, wooden columns and shining, dark floorboards.

Hiro took in the million dollar furniture, the elegant chandeliers hanging above him, and the exotic paintings and scrolls draped along the walls. More lily's decorated the room, but these were bright orange, looking like they trapped miniature fires within their buds. He could see doorways at the far ends of the room, no doubt leading to rooms of similar grandeur.

He was momentarily stunned when he was suddenly tossed onto the ground, no time to collect his feet under him and landing painfully on his stomach.

"Well, well, look who we have here."

His head snapped up at the voice, immediately recognizing it. His stomach dropped at the sight of the biggest man he'd ever had the bad luck of knowing looming above him.

The last he saw of Yama, the man had been in a cell (granted, Hiro had indirectly put him behind bars, but that was a point he wasn't too keen on mentioning anytime soon). Seeing him now- in a wealthy house, surrounded by henchmen, dressed in a high-end suit and not in jail- was unsettling.

"Hello, Zero."

Unable to speak, Hiro could only stare.

Yama smiled and motioned to his men. Arms came to haul Hiro onto his feet so that he was eye level with the boss' belly. The gag was removed, though Hiro was sure the taste would linger for days to come.

"It's been awhile since we last met. Tried to run away, did you? "

Even with his gag removed, Hiro couldn't speak, too stunned.

"I hear that you were the one who beat Sumi. I had money on that bet.

Gathering his wits, the boy could do nothing but shake his head furiously. Why did everyone seem to think he had fought against this woman? He'd been going clean for over two months now (he'd been so focused on Tadashi that it had seemed trivial in comparison), so there was no way he'd been anywhere near the fight in general. He wet his lips. "N-no… I didn't have anything to do with that."

But Yama pretended not to hear him, instead turning away slightly to inspect an arrangement of flowers, perfectly clipped and settled in an expensive looking case. One of the orange petals was held between two thick fingers.

"It always keeps coming back to you, doesn't it kid? You're a downright genius, I hear." Hiro cringed at that, for once hating the local newspapers for including him in the article concerning the SFIT fire. "You're making bots that my people can only dream of- but it's all been going to waste."

The petal was crushed.

"Now, as you might have figured out, I don't like to lose." The remains of the flower were wiped onto a towel offered by one of the servants who came skittering forward, immediately retreating when they were no longer of any use. "And I make it my business not to lose."

Hiro leaned back when the other invaded his personal space, his spine protesting, to get as far away from the man.

"I invest in different kinds of battlebots, my partners always looking for better designs. And a kid like you could be useful, real useful." Yama grinned maliciously. "How about you work for me and we can put this whole mess behind us, eh boy?"

What kind of world did he live in where a mob boss wanted him- a kid- to work for him?

Thinking about the crates in Yama's vans, filled to the brim with his microbots, Hiro scowled. The masked man already took those from him, he wasn't going to let anyone else take his work from him. "Not going to happen."

Yama's smiled faltered momentarily before lighting back up.

"How about a deal then?"

Another thing he wasn't expecting. His previous experience with Yama didn't lead him to believe that an actual, civilized conversation was even possible, much less a deal following rejection.

Seeing his curiosity, Yama continued, "We're both bot fighters here, so why don't we have a little tournament. The deal is simple: if you win, you'll be released, but if I win, you work for me."

Hiro didn't know why the fat man was offering this chance and was instantly suspicious, but the gambler within was interested. Given any supplies, he could easily make a bot that would destroy any pitted against him, so, no matter the tricks, he'd win.

"Deal."

For some reason, Yama's grin grew bigger- gleeful in fact. Hiro's confidence dwindled at the sight of it, the knot in his stomach returning. "Excellent. Boys, why don't you take our player to the ring?"

Hiro started panicking when the thugs started herding him to one of the dark hallways. "W-What are you doing?"

"They'll be taking you to the ring. You'll have to wait a while until the fight starts, so might we might as well get you comfortable with it."

The boy pulled at his captors. "What do you mean? I-I can't- don't have my bot-"

"Oh, you won't be needing one for this fight."

"What do you-" Like a rubber band snapping into place, the answer came to Hiro. What the man was implying, it was absurd, it was crazy, it was suicidal. He dug in his heels, "You can't expect me to- I'm not fighting! That's not fair! We had a deal and-"

"Stop his whining, will you?" Yama ordered his thugs, who didn't hesitate to gag Hiro again. "Jeez, I hate kids. Always whining and cheating."

With no voice, Hiro was left to scream muffled obscenities at the mob boss that would've filled a swear jar to its brim if they had gotten past the cloth in his mouth. There wouldn't be a tournament, he knew, and he was stupid to think that for even a second criminals would play fair. He should have known- should have known that cheaters always cheat because once a cheater, always a cheater.

Everything was rigged and he was on the losing side.

A/N: A short update, we know, but look! It's an entire week early! Think of it almost as a sort of apology for those times where the update was more than a little late (as readers ourselves, we understand that a month waiting for an update may feel like centuries wasting away). And yes, we know we said there would be some Hamada Bros fluff and a reveal- just wait, it's coming... though it might not be what you're thinking.

Till next time. ;)