Bruises

by Sandfire Kat

Hiro was so much like her. He was stubborn, he was intelligent, he was bright. A spitting replica if not for personality. Could he really be blamed for what he did? He had motives. People always do. But his motives were good ones, surely. For him. For others it was not as much so. For others, this was a living nightmare. One they could not wake up from. One they might not survive.

26. Chapter 26

It was getting on to be pretty late at night. It was so late, really, that it couldn't even really be considered 'night' anymore. It would probably be more accurate, then, to say that it was very early. Whatever way it was looked at, though, it still stood to reason that Hiro was exhausted. His eyes were stinging, they were so tired, and every so often, he would put his pencil down to reach up and wipe at them roughly. And about every other second, he would duck down and yawn into his elbow.

Despite the hour, and despite the fact that his bed was calling his name, Hiro kept at his desk, his pencil scrawling over the paper like it had been for the past hour and a half, now. He'd already written two pages now, front and back. He was well into the third one now, and he wasn't really in the mood to stop. He might as well not, anyway, considering the fact that Tadashi was still up, too. He was doing some homework still, even though he had started it directly after dinner. So their lights were still on in their room, and there was a mutual understanding between the two of them that it wasn't really an issue.

Mostly it had been silent, considering that both occupants in the room were busy with their own work. So, Hiro's wrist – aching a little bit with the demanding effort of writing so much – slowly came to a standstill as the sound of an irritated grumble met his ears. He blinked and set the pencil down, turning so that he could look over to the other side of the room. Sure enough, Tadashi was hunched over a little bit, drawing his hands through his hair and muttering underneath his breath. His stare was narrowed down into a harsh glare as he looked over the stack of papers in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Hiro's eyes flickered down to the papers, and he asked: "What homework are you doing? I thought you said that your classes didn't have much going on anymore."

"They don't," Tadashi agreed, his words coming in the form of nothing more than an exhale. He leaned over and picked up a packet, thumbing through it a little bit. Hiro noticed that the disgusted look on his face remained unchanged. "Honey Lemon gave me some of her notes from her first semester. She's trying to get me started, so I don't drown in my classes next semester." Hiro slouched a little bit, but since Tadashi was looking down, he didn't catch it. "But it's just…" There was a small pause, in which he struggled to grasp at a phrase that would properly cover it. He ended up with a lame: "It's like I'm reading Spanish."

"I don't know, I think Spanish might be easier," Hiro chirped. "At least with Spanish, some of the words are mostly the same. Like pants." He shifted his chair, so that he could turn and face Tadashi fully. "Or…supermarket. But between robotics and chemistry…you don't know your clothes from your grocery store." He waited for Tadashi to laugh or at least grin at the fact that he was trying to make a joke. So he felt a little disheartened when he didn't. Hiro pursed his lips for a moment, and contemplated a bit, before he decide that sympathy would probably be better. It's what he would want, if the roles were reversed. "Do you need any help?" he asked, glancing over at his computer. "Google doesn't have closing hours. Unless that changed recently."

"No. I gotta get it on my own," Tadashi huffed. "Otherwise there's no point. I just— I just have to read this all over again." He flipped back through the packet he was holding. Hiro's eyebrows rose a little bit at the number of pages that was there. It had to be at least ten or twelve. "If I read it enough, it'll start to make sense. And it can't be that hard— it's just…elements and molecules and stuff. I understand that, I just have to…I don't know." He sighed. "Read it again."

"How many times have you read it, though?" Hiro asked. "You've been sitting there since dinner."

"This'll be the eighth," Tadashi replied, his voice almost curt. He must have realized that Hiro eyed him in disbelief without even looking up, because he sighed a little bit and eyed the paper with a bit more irritation than before. "It's not like I have much of a choice, right?" he asked.

"You actually kind of do," Hiro replied, trying to keep his voice light and upbeat. "You could just go to bed."

Tadashi looked up at him then, raising his eyebrows a little bit skeptically. He nodded his head towards the papers that were scattered around Hiro's desk. "So could you, you know," he quipped.

Hiro glanced back, awkwardness and discomfort settling over him briefly. He leaned over and shuffled the papers so that he could shove them down underneath one of the books that were stacked around him. He couldn't remember putting the book there— he must have put it there before he left so long ago. But it was doing a job now, at least. Half because he wanted to make a point, and half because he was just wanting to get the attention off of him, he asked: "Weren't…aren't you going to graduate soon, anyway?"

"I was," Tadashi replied. "Not anymore; not when I've got to start my major all over. I've got to take all new classes." He flipped through the pages a bit. Hiro watched as his brother made a face at what apparently was a rather confusing-looking diagram. "It doesn't matter, though," he said after a small pause. "Not when the college suddenly decides they want to pay me to take every class imaginable." He rolled his eyes— Hiro couldn't remember the last time that he saw Tadashi do that. And, with a sense of small discomfort, he was just now beginning to realize how stressed out and angry Tadashi was, by now. "They want to…reimburse me, or something completely ridiculous like that, so why not?"

"You're tired," Hiro tried, a little weaker this time. "You should go to bed. Maybe you'll be a genius in chemistry when you wake up; you never know. And you're frustrated. You shouldn't keep bullying yourself to figure all of this out when you don't want to." He paused for a heartbeat, glancing over at his own papers, before he cleared his throat and winced a little bit. "And maybe…you know, maybe you should think a little bit more about changing your major. Maybe it's not such a good idea."

Tadashi sighed through his nose, heavily enough that Hiro could hear from across the room. Hiro braced himself for anger from his older brother. It was the most likely outcome, given the situation. However, when his brother did reply, his voice was nothing more than a small exhale. "It's just what I want to do," he said, the words flat and almost dead. It made Hiro freeze a little bit, and a little bit of sorrow to cloud over his gaze. Tadashi didn't look up, but he must have sensed the change, regardless. "I'll be much happier with chemistry."

Hiro hesitated for a long heartbeat. After a second, he cleared his throat and closed one eye in a small grimace. All the same, flinching a tiny bit, he attempted a lame: "But…so far it doesn't really seem like there's much…chemistry between you and this subject."

Tadashi looked back up at him blandly. Though his expression was a deadpan, Hiro brightened just a little bit at the small glimmer of amusement that was hiding in the back of his eyes. Even so, he said a flat: "Hiro, that's not funny."

Hiro raised his eyebrows. He tilted his head towards his bed. "Nozomi thought it was funny," he stated, glancing over to see that the dog's head immediately shot up at the sound of her name. Her ears perked as well, and she turned to look at Hiro with brightly-lit eyes. A smile split over Hiro's face, and it only increased once she turned and shuffled off of the bed. She hopped over to him and got up on her hind legs so that she could put her head own on his knee. It looked like she was smiling a big toothy grin, she was so happy. So, moving one hand to pet her gently, he threw a sophisticated look over at his brother. "She understands comedy better than you do."

Tadashi's eyes softened a bit. Nozomi had only been here for a few days but, unsurprisingly, everyone already loved her. She got under people's feet, and she barked whenever someone new came into the room, and Hiro was already establishing a bad habit of sneaking her some pieces of food when nobody was looking. Taking all of that into consideration, it was still little wonder that there was a new soft spot in the house. It was an automatic sort of thing, really.

Even so, Tadashi shook his head and looked back down. "Well, good for her," he hummed. "I'm sure she'll be fun at parties."

Hiro smiled, though the gesture didn't exactly reach his eyes, now. He glanced down at Nozomi, his shoulders slumping just a bit when he watched her settle down to curl comfortably at the foot of his chair. She tucked tightly into herself, ducking her nose down underneath her paw like she always did. Subtly, her tail wagged from side to side in a sign of contentment. Against himself, Hiro felt a confusing sort of jealousy, looking at her. Not because he was not happy to have her back at his side— certainly, it wasn't that. It was because, despite everything, Nozomi just looked and acted like any normal dog. She seemed completely unaffected by everything that had happened. Yet here everyone else was, struggling to pick up the broken pieces of…well, everything.

Hiro would give his entire right arm to be able to be as aloof as Nozomi seemed. As adjustable.

Here he was now, feeling envious of a dog.

He closed one eye in a small grimace, clearing his throat a bit before he pushed himself to speak up again. His voice was slower now; he was obviously choosing his words with care and hesitation. "You know…you shouldn't…feel like it's something you have to do," he murmured. Though he didn't look up at his brother, he could feel his stare come back up to rest on him. He just kept looking down at Nozomi. "Changing your major, I mean. Because…you loved robotics. I'm pretty sure you still do." Now he did look up, somehow mustering up the courage to look at him in the face. Though the younger's expression was clenched a bit in awkwardness and reluctance. "I've seen the way you look when you talked about Baymax," he pressed. "And...you look pretty miserable when you talk about chemistry. Or even think about it."

"It'll just take some work," Tadashi argued, though there didn't seem to be much in his voice. "I just want to—"

"Do you, though?" Hiro cut him off quietly. Tadashi didn't exactly lock eyes with him; he more looked off to the side, noticeably locking his jaw backwards a bit. A touch of guilt came over Hiro with his brother's discomfort, but he couldn't stop or falter now. "Tadashi…I know that…you don't know what to do. I didn't either— I still don't. But…just because of something that happened with me…you shouldn't let that take away something you really loved. That you still love."

Tadashi immediately snapped to attention with this. And when he spoke, Hiro realized that it wasn't because of the reason Hiro thought he had. "Because of 'something that happened' to you?" he echoed. Hiro didn't move, just blinking a few times. He started to open his mouth to say something, but he ended up biting it back. Tadashi went on when it was clear Hiro would not. "Hiro, the man that inspired me to have an interest in robotics, the man that acted as my motivation to even do well or work hard in this field…he…" His throat seemed to swell just a little bit; his words seemed to get thicker. "He hurt you, he nearly— Hiro, he nearly killed you." He ended hardly above a whisper.

Hiro glanced down at Nozomi. She had been dozing a bit, but when she became aware of his gaze, she perked her ears. As if to ask: 'What now?' Hiro shook his head and reached up to rub at his forehead. "You think I don't know that?" he asked, trying to make his voice light, so he could therefore make light of the situation. But it was a rather hard situation to make light of; he would be the first to admit that much. "I know that more than anyone, Tadashi, but the point is, you can't let that ruin something you really wanted to do with your life! I mean, look at Baymax! He's amazing, Tadashi! And you can't just get rid of all of that! Not when you were going so great!"

Tadashi was getting closer and closer to angry the further Hiro went. It was a hard fact to overlook. "Hiro, you have no idea what you're talking about," he said, thinner. "Every day I go into that classroom, and everyone is staring at me. I sit down there and I feel like I don't belong anymore. I look at assignments we do, and I look at chapters we read, and I feel horrible for enjoying it! Don't you see!?" Tadashi turned, shoving the packets of chemistry work away, hard enough to cause all of them to tumble to the ground in a mess. Hiro flinched, but Tadashi took no heed. "Of course I don't want to do this stupid chemistry stuff! It's awful, I hate it! I want to go back, but I can't! Because I shouldn't be able to!" He broke off, biting down hard on his lower lip. He gave a hard shake of the head, and his next words came out in nothing more than a grumble. "I shouldn't be able to go back. Like nothing happened."

There was a heavy pause. It felt like a million bricks piled up on each other, and throughout it, Hiro could only stare at his brother. It took him a long time to gather up a response, and when he did, he winced down with discomfort at the floor. "You don't have to feel guilty for liking it," he said, dealing with each word as if it was glass. "I'm glad that you like it. It's such a relief." Tadashi looked at him dismally, confused at the same time. He gave a small shake of the head. "He's taken so much," Hiro pointed out. "He's ruined so much, and he's done so much. He shouldn't be able to take something like that away from you, too." He looked up at Tadashi, raising his eyebrows just a little bit. "Don't you think?"

Tadashi was blank for a moment. Unsure of what to say. Eventually he weakened, his voice cracking in on itself. "But…it's not fair. Is it?" he dared to ask. "That…I just keep going on as normal? Pretending that nothing like that happened? That it doesn't bother me?" He paused, taking in a quick breath. "I love robotics…and I love…applying it. But…I don't know if I can anymore. Or…I don't know if I should."

Hiro digested the issue. But it was easy to do. Because it was a familiar problem. "I think…you should do…what makes you happy," he pressed. "I don't think you should care about anything else. I think…I think that's what we all need to start doing." He looked earnestly at his older brother. The two were finally meeting one another's gaze. "I think we need to stop…dodging it all. Dancing around it. And we need to start recovering." He paused. He could feel his lower lip tremble and shake just a little bit, and he tried to speak louder, in order to cover this fact up. "Because I think it's about time we got our lives back. And I'm tired of just suffering through the aftermath, never really knowing when it's going to end. Because I want it to end. And I know you do, too."

Tadashi wilted. However, he couldn't very well move to argue against him. Though he did turn and look from his brother, to the pile of papers now on the floor. As if he was exhausted, he closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh. "I wish…I could be as strong as you," he confessed in a breathy exhale. Hiro jerked, a little bit caught off-guard at the sudden change. "I wish I could be as strong as you're being…and be able to…live with this, the way you are. Live with all of it." He looked at Hiro as if he had never seen him before. As if they were strangers, just passing by each other in the thick of some dark trail. "These days, I get to forgetting that I'm the older one."

Hiro offered him a smile. Though it was bracing, and strong, there was a certain degree of sorrow there as well, hidden in the small lift of his lips. He shook his head again. "Thank you," he mumbled reluctantly. But the sad smile remained, and, after gnawing down on his lower lip, Hiro shook his head a second time. "But…I don't want to be strong for living with it," he objected.

Tadashi's eyebrows pulled together in concern. Hiro gave out a small shrug of the shoulders. "I think…I would rather be strong…for being able to let go of it."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Hiro stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his expression darkened and a little bit disappointed as he stared at himself. He stood in silence, like he had been for the past ten minutes now. He wasn't planning on moving, or doing anything else. He didn't really have anything else on his plate, and once this detail reached out to smack him in the face, it gathered the rest of his attention fully. However, his focus was shifted eventually, at the sound footsteps heading his way.

Sure enough, when he turned to look over his shoulder towards the door, Cass was standing in the doorway. She looked a tad nervous as she surveyed him, and Hiro felt a rush of awkwardness at the idea of what this might seem. Predictably, her voice was laced with reluctance when she took the initiative to speak. "What are you doing, honey?" she asked. A tad weak.

"Oh, I was just…" Hiro glanced back at the mirror, bemused for a second. His mind was spluttering awkwardly, and he cleared his throat before turning back to her with an aimless grin. "I thought you were down at the café!" he said. "Isn't it busy today?"

She wasn't deterred by the effort of her nephew, though. If anything, her worry just seemed to spike. "Yeah, it is, but I came up to check on you and make sure you were alright." She hesitated, taking to gnawing own on her lower lip, like she always did whenever she got nervous, or fearful. Then she tilted her head to the side. "Are you alright? You…you're worrying me, a little bit. Is everything fine?"

"Oh, yeah, it's—" He glanced back at the mirror a second, giving a small sigh through his nose as he did. His voice was a tad weaker when he went on. And, a little self-consciously, he reached back to rub at his neck. "I was just…" He gestured to his hair. "All the color's run out of it already. It's not there anymore." He looked back at his reflection with noticeable distaste. His hair wasn't nearly as short as it had been when he had been back at Callaghan's, of course. But it didn't matter so much. Abigail's hair grew out eventually too, he had seen photos of it.

He knew that it might be irrational. He told himself that it was, anyway. But at the same time, seeing himself was like looking down at a photo of her. It was unnerving, and it didn't help with…well, anything. He couldn't hide the fact, either; it was as plain as the nose on his face. So the fact that Aunt Cass was looking at him with such deep concern was not totally unfounded. He knew what it must look like. He tried to make a bit lighter of it, with a small shrug. "I was just…it didn't look all that great, but I was just hoping it would stay in for a little bit longer…"

"Well, we could dye it again!" Aunt Cass offered quickly, taking a few steps closer and eliminating the distance in between them. She reached over and threaded a hand through his hair lovingly, tucking some back behind his ear in the process. Her gaze was tender when she searched his own. "Your hair's pretty dark, it's no wonder it all ran out," she offered. "But if you want to put more color in it, we definitely can!" Hiro grinned, a little embarrassed at such a reassurance. "How about I close the café early tonight? And we can go down to the store and—"

"Aunt Cass? I'm home!" The two of them both turned at the call, recognizing Tadashi's voice instantly. Hiro had no idea what time it was, but apparently it was after noon, for his older brother to be able to be back from school already. Aunt Cass glanced back at Hiro, before offering him a smile and leaving the bathroom. Hiro, looking in the mirror with one last lingering stare, followed suit and did the same. Sure enough, Tadashi was just setting his bag down at the top of the stairs, and he turned to smile as they entered the living room. "You weren't downstairs," he pointed out to his aunt, turning to pick his way closer. He was holding something in his hand— a slip of paper, it looked like. "People are getting pretty rowdy down there."

"They'll have to wait," their aunt quipped, entirely unbothered. She leaned over and offered him a quick peck on the cheek— adopting the new habit of constantly showering the both of them with affection whenever she could. Though it was far from irritating, for the both of the brothers. "What have you got there?" she asked, her eyes catching on the paper a little bit later than Hiro's had.

Tadashi smiled, looking down at the thing he was holding as his eyes flashed a little bit. He cleared his throat, and hesitated before extending his arm, to offer it to her. Hiro watched as, puzzled, Aunt Cass took the thing and moved so that she could see its front. Immediately, her eyes got to be about ten times their normal size, and her breath was very audibly taken away from her. The expression that came over her face was one of complete shock and confusion.

"I went to the financial aid office today," Tadashi announced softly. "And…I got it all straightened out. There's not going to be any more payments for school. And...they said that they'll pay us back, too. That's…the first check."

"The first?" she echoed, stricken.

Tadashi grinned. "Yup."

Hiro felt a small touch of relief at the look that was on her face. He didn't know how much the medical bills they had were. But he did know that he spent a long time in the hospital. The gratefulness that was plastered over Aunt Cass' face, and the smile that was growing there, was a small assurance that maybe that wasn't as much of an issue anymore. Or it would be a little bit better, at the very least. Hiro looked over at Tadashi, turning to clasp his hands behind his back. "That's awesome," he managed. "Gives you as much time as you want to get all that chemistry under your belt."

"Yeah," Tadashi agreed, though Hiro was acutely aware of the way his voice fell a tad flat. He looked over at his younger brother, his gaze a bit withdrawn as he offered him a subtle grin. Hiro returned the smile, wholeheartedly though. He started to open his mouth to say something, but Tadashi turned back to look at Cass before he could. "I'm serious, though, Aunt Cass, people asked me where you were on my way up. I told them I'd get you." Cass looked up from the check, her expression almost dazed. But she quickly snapped to attention by the time Tadashi was going on. "I can come down and help you before too long, I just have to get something started on my computer. We have a new project in robotics."

Hiro grinned a bit more.

Cass nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, sure, honey!" She turned and deposited the check down on the kitchen counter. Hiro entertained the idea of glancing at the amount, but decided he probably shouldn't. "Thank you, Tadashi," Aunt Cass added as she made for the stairs again. "It totally slipped my mind I've got a café to run! Hopefully Mrs. Matsuda hasn't swiped all my cinnamon rolls while I was gone!" She took the steps two at a time, and eventually, it was only the two of them left in the den.

Hiro cleared his throat a little bit, glancing down at his feet. "A new project?" he asked after a second.

"Yeah," Tadashi replied. "For once we actually got our noses out of our textbooks. So I've got to start downloading this program so I can start working on it. But it's not due for a few weeks yet. I just…thought I'd get a head start." Hiro simply nodded, finding that there wasn't much more he could say. Thankfully enough, Tadashi seemed to grasp a little bit of his mood. He flashed him a small, rather reluctant, smile. "And…I figured…you know, maybe you had a point. A while ago. Or…at the very least…I don't think chemistry if the right road for me. Maybe…I wasn't thinking clearly. Before. I dunno. I'm still…I'm still kind of on the fence."

Hiro paused and contemplated the words for a moment. His expression flickered over dark for a heartbeat, before he closed one eye in something akin to wince. "You know…there's got to be a line. I think. At least…in my opinion." He looked up from his feet now, and he saw that Tadashi was staring expectantly his way. "Because…he's…he's taken a lot. You know?" he rasped. There was pain written in his face now, and he watched as Tadashi's own expression began to crumble a crack. Hiro offered a small shrug, which came off as lame, even to him. "He's taken so much from us. From all of us. You shouldn't let him take this away from you too." He paused for a heartbeat before he mumbled: "There should be a stopping point. Shouldn't there?"

Tadashi was the one to glance down at the floor, now. His stare seemed to weigh about a million pounds. "I guess so," he relented, after a stretch of time. "It's…it's just hard." He shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head before he backtracked. "And I know it's not fair for me to tell you that. And I know that…that maybe me making a whole fuss about this college thing was insulting to you." Hiro frowned, tilting his head to the side. "I just…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that, but…it's just a lot. To handle. Even if it's not nearly as much as you."

"I wasn't thinking that at all," Hiro replied. "It's not a competition, Tadashi. It's just…" He smiled, a little wryly. "A mess."

"Yeah," Tadashi sighed. "It is. Just…a huge mess."

Hiro's smile turned a bit more genuine now. Though there was a sense of sorrow thinly veiled behind it. "I think you should stick where you are," he said. "But it's not my decision. It's yours, you know? Ultimately, you're going to choose what to do, and I'm not going to sit here and try and tell you otherwise." He brightened. "It's your life. Just yours. So. Go ahead and do what you want with it."

The words hung in the air between them a little bit. Hiro tried not to notice how much his brother seemed to swell with pride at them, either. He practically lit up at the assertion, really. "Yeah," the elder of the two said, his voice noticeably just as perked. He smiled and reached back to rub at the back of his neck. In a roundabout reply, in a roundabout agreement, he offered a small: "I'd better go up and get started on my project. Do you need anything? Before I do?"

He hesitated for a moment, and subconsciously, a hand strayed up to run through his hair. But despite the small sting of frustration, he drafted a smile up onto his face, and a small shake of the head. "Nope," he replied. "I'm fine. I don't…need anything right now. Anything more, at least." Tadashi smiled back at him and turned, heading for the stairs. Hiro stood still and watched him go, his hands clasped together tightly in front of him. Watching him walk away, and glancing over at the check that was still resting on the counter, he felt the smallest sense of happiness, and relief.

Though he would be lying if he said that part of the reason he felt such a way was also thanks to the fact that, for once, when he assured someone that he was fine, it wasn't a total lie.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"You're going to give her a heart attack, and then what are we supposed to do?" Tadashi asked.

"She won't have a heart attack," Hiro objected. He reached his arm back and jerked it forward again. By this point, his arm was burning with its overuse. "At the most, she'll pass out and not wake up for the next twenty-four hours, and if that's the case, then we'll all have a break for once." He watched as Nozomi, in a flurry of barks, turned and scrambled up the steps for the fiftieth time this morning, chasing after the ball that Hiro chucked up to their room. Despite the fact that she should have been well worn out by this point, she rushed back down just as fast, her tail wagging a million miles an hour as she skidded to a stop in front of Hiro. She dropped her ball down to him and sat down, her eyes bright and expectant as she waited for him to throw it again.

Tadashi scoffed, looking up from his textbook to eye the dog with a grin. "She's like the Energizer bunny," he laughed.

Hiro leaned over, ignoring the tennis ball this time and bundling up Nozomi instead. He tugged her close to his chest, ignoring the way she wriggled and thrashed as he hugged her tight. "She's just excited. And she likes playing. Don't judge her." But at the same time, when she just tried to scramble for her toy, he only hugged her tighter, his expression souring a little as he growled: "No, let me love you." She finally stopped, huffing a little bit as she just sat down in his lap. It immediately made him grin, and he softened as he planted a small kiss on her head. "Good. Don't be rude."

"She's gonna run away from you again," Tadashi sang, turning back to his work.

"She can try," Hiro quipped. "But she would make Mochi sad, and he's her best buddy."

Tadashi turned, scribbling down some notes before he continued to read. He rolled his eyes. "Mochi scratched her just this morning, Hiro."

"Because she was trying to give him kisses!" he yelped. "Tell me that isn't true love. Tell me."

"Pretty one-sided," Tadashi replied. "I don't think Mochi would—"

The conversation, however thrilling and interesting it was, got cut off with a sudden entrance. The two of them turned immediately at a rushing set of footsteps. Sure enough, from the café, Aunt Cass burst into the room, looking frazzled and caught up in something. Neither of them had the chance to say anything before she took off. "Are you guys busy?" Even as she asked the question, she turned and looked at Tadashi, and the book he was holding. And her expression was just as torn when she glanced at Hiro, regardless of the fact he was just holding Nozomi.

Tadashi put down his textbook. "I can work on this later," he offered. "Why?"

She winced a bit and drew a hand through her hair. "It's packed downstairs," she started, already sounding tired. "And I just remembered that I was supposed to send out a thank-you package this morning. The post office is set to close soon, I…" There was guilt on her face as she hesitated and looked from one her nephews, to the other. Her voice was a tad weaker when she dared to ask: "Do you think you could handle the café for a little while?"

Hiro blinked and looked down at Nozomi. Tadashi replied quicker than he did. "Yeah, of course. I can finish this later, it's no big deal." He set aside his things, standing up from the couch. Only then did he seem to pick up on Aunt Cass' hesitance. Or rather, the reason for it. He glanced from her to Hiro, a sense of tension suddenly springing up into his gaze. "Oh…er— you don't have to come, Hiro," he offered, rather awkwardly. It immediately caused the younger to slouch a bit. "I can handle it by myself. It won't take long, you know?"

"No, no, it's…" Hiro shook his head. He shuffled Nozomi off of his lap and pushed up from the ground to stand. "No, I want to help. It's alright. I can totally help, it'll be fun. I haven't helped out down there in ages."

Aunt Cass seemed unsure by the almost-too-happy reaction. She seemed a tad unsure. Her eyebrows knitted together a bit as she opened her mouth to say something. Tadashi was quick to beat her to it, though. He wasn't too keen on letting her continue on, and beat Hiro down for something that was certainly a step in the right direction. So he leaned over quickly, grabbing Hiro and pulling him close, so that he could ruffle his hair. "As long as you actually work," he chuckled. "You never liked working down there in the first place. I'd always have to cover your shifts!"

Hiro laughed, wriggling out of Tadashi's arms and shoving him away. "I'll work circles around you!" he swore, his eyes lighting up with a bit of his old competitive flair. However, in the back of his gaze there also seemed to be the smallest bit of reluctance as well. Though it was not unnoticed by Tadashi, it was certainly not called out. Rather Tadashi's gaze just got a touch softer, as well as his smile.

Cass cleared her throat, seeming a little torn as well. But she quickly realized that the sooner she left, the sooner she would get back. So, rushing to the kitchen and fetching her purse and the small package that had been sitting there since this morning, she went to her nephews and kissed them both on the cheeks. "I'll be back soon, you won't have to work long," she promised. Predictably, then, she lingered over Hiro a bit longer than Tadashi. Unable to stop herself, she added a small: "And if you don't want to work for very long…don't feel like you have to."

He offered her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. He didn't say anything in reply, he just watched Aunt Cass turn and make her way downstairs. The two of them stood alone in the living room for a split second, in silence that was a little stiff. But then Tadashi brightened, and he started down the steps first, leading the way down. Hiro hesitated only briefly before he cleared his throat and followed.

As he walked after his older brother, a small grimace came over his face at the small limp that hindered his gait. Despite the fact that his leg didn't ache nearly as much anymore, his compromised walking stayed. It was at the point where it was not needed to be pointed out that the limp would remain. After his leg had been so injured for so long, it shouldn't be surprising to think that there would be long-lasting repercussions. But still, every time Hiro had to walk, he was reminded with a small stab in his chest of the fact that he was altered. Changed. Different.

Waiting at the foot of the steps, Tadashi must have caught on to what Hiro was thinking— his expression was a little bit deflated, and weakened. Catching it, Hiro forced himself to brighten and smile. He'd been getting better at doing just that. Thankfully, Tadashi followed suit, understanding that it would be the easiest thing to do. He stuffed his hands down into his pockets, glancing over his shoulder, down towards the dining area. "I'll take the tables," he offered. "You can just stay at the register and handle that, if you want." There was less walking around involved in that particular job, and, if Hiro wished it, there was much less socializing.

So Hiro took the job immediately, not even allowing the smallest of pauses to think it over. He was starting to believe that it really wouldn't be as bad as he was privately dreading. It was a little bit of a habit nowadays, though he was getting better at coping, that his nerves were a little bit shot, and easily sparked with apprehension. However, once he and his brother emerged into the main floor, and he saw how many people were there, and once he heard the dull roar of conversation, he couldn't stop himself from stiffening up just a little bit. Aunt Cass hadn't been joking; it was packed in here. There seemed to be way too many people, and way too much conversation.

Had it always been this crowded? This cramped? He felt like he was suffocating already.

Tadashi glanced at him a little wearily. "You okay?" he asked. "You can go back upstairs if you want to."

The offer brought a little bit of sting to Hiro. A little stupidly, because he knew that Tadashi was just trying to help. Nevertheless, he drew himself up just a little bit and turned, already starting to pick his way over to the register. "There's a table in the corner you need to clear," he said instead, throwing the direction over his shoulder as he went. He didn't check to see if Tadashi was offended by the short goodbye. He wasn't really sure what he would have done if it turned out he was. He just weaved through the crowd of people, trying not to pay attention to anything but his steps, in the effort not to notice if people were looking at him oddly.

He went around the counter and took up his usual spot behind the register. Usually he'd liked this job best. It was the easiest job to daydream while you did it, and all it was was simple math and numbers. Whenever he'd have the pick of what job to do, and usually he did since Tadashi didn't mind, he would pick this one. So when he took up the station behind the machine, he looked down at it, beginning to smile. Sure enough, this didn't change, either. There was still the straw holder up on the counter near him, and the same photo directly over and behind his head— of some flowers that Aunt Cass had been so ecstatic to find at some outlet store.

The first couple of people to go through the register didn't seem to care all that much about his being there. Either they were living under a rock, or they were just more concerned about their bagel than what he was up to. But that was completely fine by Hiro. They exchanged a few polite words of conversation, like asking each other how their day was going. But it was that type of conversation where it was clear both participating parties were clearly just wanting it to be over, and they weren't even listening. Mostly they were just interested in exchanging the money, so that the customer could get out.

It went like that for a while, and Hiro was actually starting to find some enjoyment in it. Maybe not so much enjoyment such as it was the relief to be doing something other than sitting and staring off into the distance. He'd really been running out of things to do to distract himself. It hadn't really occurred to him to come down here, mostly because that was where the windows were, and there was still a couple reporters around every day asking about him. He'd rather avoid that as much as he could. But for the most part, it was going pretty well so far.

Finally, after the first wave of people, Hiro found himself looking a familiar face. The others he hadn't recollected; it wasn't a fluke, considering the fact that they didn't really care to see him either. But as soon as the pang of recollection hit him, he saw the woman's face light up and glow. She was even looking at the miniature cakes, which Hiro remembered were always her favorite to purchase. "Hiro!" Mrs. Matsuda cried, her eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of the boy. As she rushed forward, Hiro dimly realized that he hadn't seen her at all since he'd come back. It wasn't that they were friends, by any means. But they were acquaintances; they liked to talk to one another when she came by the café. "I was wondering when I would see you, my dear!"

He smiled, a genuine grin. "Hey, Mrs. Matsuda," he called. "How've you been?"

"Oh, I've been just fine!" she said, disregarding her cake now as she just went up to the counter. Her eyes were alight with that concern that seemed to be in everyone's faces, now. "But you…are you alright?" She looked him over, as if she was searching for some kind of deadly wound that was, at the moment, invisible. "When I heard the news I was so devastated…I remember how nice you had been. So small and sweet, and I just knew that I had to try and help…" Hiro started to grow uncomfortable. He ducked his head and little bit, and rubbed at his forehead. "I went out with some of the search parties through the city trying to catch a glimpse of you. I couldn't go very far, or for very long, of course. But…you know, I had to try."

Hiro was actually a little touched by this. Mrs. Matsuda was eighty; she wasn't young or active in any sense of the word. To picture her going out and scaling at least a section of this huge city brought a little bit of a lump to his throat, if he was being perfectly honest. He sat up again, dropping his arm. He was starting to thank his lucky stars that he'd remembered to put his jacket on this morning. If Mrs. Matsuda – or anyone, really, for that matter – saw the state of his arm, they'd probably all lose their appetite. The thought came, and he lost a little bit of his smile. But he looked at her brightly nonetheless. "Well…thanks, Mrs. Matsuda. I…I appreciate it. You didn't have to…go to all that trouble."

"I'm just glad you're safe, honey," she said, gentler this time. "I was very worried— always checking the papers or the news to see whether or not you were found. And every time I would come here…your poor brother and your aunt— they were always so upset. Like ghosts of who they used to be." At his disheartened expression, she shook her head and smiled. "But Cass is so much livelier now; she's ecstatic! And your brother has been bouncing through here just like the old days. I'm very glad to see that, too."

"Yeah…I am too," he offered with a small laugh. "It's nice to be…to be home." He glanced to the side, to see that from one of the middle tables, Tadashi had stopped short and was looking over in their direction. Awkwardly the pair made eye contact for a heartbeat before Hiro ducked away, grimacing and clearing his throat a bit. "Uh, can I get you something, Mrs. Matsuda?" he asked instead. "Is there…do you want one of those down there?" He pointed down towards the row of mini cakes she had been eyeing before.

She perked, as if she'd forgotten all about it. "Oh!" she gasped, straightening. "Yes, I would love one, dear. My granddaughter is coming over later, and I wanted to surprise her with a little cake. I missed her birthday the other day, you know." Hiro was nodding as he went over to fetch the thing for her. This was more normal— it felt right. To have her prattling on in his ear so much that he half-started to tune her out. It was like how things always used to be. It felt familiar— a little annoying and drawn-out, but in the best way possible.

Hiro got the cake she wanted and rung her up. He docked off two dollars, like he always used to do for her whenever Aunt Cass wasn't looking. The simple act caused Mrs. Matsuda's eyes to light up and swell with happiness and nostalgia. She drew Hiro up into a hug, despite the awkwardness that was the counter in between them. Hiro grinned as he watched her go. He looked down to fiddle with the register, just for something to do. He tried to ignore how pleased he felt, and how his smile seemed to grow and soften after the quick hug.

Mrs. Matsuda was sweet. Hiro hadn't thought about her too much, but he'd missed her too.

The thought was running through his mind, and it was causing him to be a little bit distracted. So when he heard another voice, calling for his attention, he blinked rapidly, nearly jerking in surprise. He looked up from the counter, his eyes a little wide when he looked up at the person in front of him. He didn't recognize them. It was a woman with two braids in her hair; she was leaning towards him a little bit, her gaze expectant. It took Hiro a stuttering minute to clear his throat and try to recollect himself. "I'm…I'm sorry, are you…did you say something? What can I get for you?" He looked over at the glass case, a little lost. But mostly just embarrassed he'd been caught ignoring a customer.

But what they gave him wasn't an order. It wasn't even a request for something lame, like a napkin or a straw. What Hiro got, instead, was a befuddling: "Are you going to speak?"

He blinked a few times. Looked down at the register in front of him, as if he could find some sort of answer there. "Am I…?" His forehead creased a little bit. He looked back up, clearly confused. "I am speaking, I thought," he said stupidly, after a second.

The woman looked at him intently. Still, there was that same curious smile on her face. "Are you going to speak?" she repeated, stressing the words, now. When Hiro just stared at her oddly, she actually elaborated. Though he almost wished she hadn't. "At the trial? Are you going to speak?"

His mouth ran a little dry. Slowly, he looked back down at the cash register. "Uh…I don't…" He winced just a little bit and coughed in the back of his throat. "I don't…can I get you anything? Like…a muffin? We have tea." He was obviously just hinting to her, in a roundabout way, to please leave him alone. Already, his hands were beginning to knit tightly in his lap. His stomach was cramping in nervousness and tension. This was why he hadn't offered to help out down here before now, despite the fact he'd never really had anything else to do.

The woman just leaned forward a bit more. Her eyes were practically stabbing through him. "The final date is coming up soon; you're running out of time. Unless, you don't plan on coming at all." Before Hiro could offer anything in response, she was pressing on. "And if you don't plan on coming, what are you hoping for, as a verdict?" Hiro looked away, pointedly over to the tray of cupcakes a ways down the counter. She didn't seem to mind, though. "Have you been keeping up with the case at all? Have you been watching the news? Or can you not stomach it?"

Hiro drew a hand through his hair. He tried not to notice that it shook just a little bit as he sighed. "I haven't been— no, not really. I haven't…I can't—" He breathed out a little sharply. He looked back at her with a harder kind of expression. Or at least an expression he was hoping looked harder. "I'm just trying to work," he stated. "Do you want something or not? Because if you don't…you've just got to get out. You can't just…loiter." Was that what she was doing? What was loitering, again? He couldn't remember.

"Can I ask you a couple questions?" she all but pleaded. Hiro grimaced, pressing his hands against his forehead now as he was already shaking his head. "If you had a say on what would happen to Robert Callaghan, what would—?"

"I said get out!" Hiro yelled suddenly, his eyes snapping open again as his hands went down to the counter. The woman was obviously taken by surprise as she jerked backwards. But so was the rest of the café. Every customer gathered there looked up and roused from their own business, looking over to the pair instantly. Most were confused, but some seemed sympathetic or even angry. Those that knew and could make the connection.

Of those people were Tadashi, who looked up from the plates he was stacking together. At first, he was puzzled just like the rest of them. But then he sharpened, and as the dots connected, a deep sense of something akin to fury crowded his expression. He turned and all but shoved the plates back down onto the table. He turned and paced back towards the register. Hiro started to try and save face, to speak up for himself and snap at her to leave a second time. But he just stared at her bleakly. And he just listened when Tadashi stormed up and immediately interjected himself in between him and the woman. The statement he got out was curt and enraged. "Get out."

The woman did a double-take. Her expression caved a little in uncertainty, and she stuttered out a small: "I-If you'll just let me…"

"No. I won't." Tadashi's voice was cold and flat. Hiro wasn't sure he'd ever heard him sound this way before. "Get out. Now. Go bother someone else."

She glanced between the two of them. Hiro was wilted and deflated now. He didn't quite meet her eyes anymore. Realizing she was under the gaze of everyone here now, and the atmosphere was thick with hostility and tension, she gave a small nod. The woman turned, without even giving her name, and headed quickly for the door. Tadashi didn't turn around until the door slammed shut behind her, and the conversation between customers slowly began to revive and quicken again. He turned, his expression pained now as he looked back at Hiro, and the expression that was on his little brother's face. "You okay?" he asked. Hiro tried not to notice just how gentle he sounded. "What did she ask you?"

Hiro blinked a few times again. He grimaced and coughed again, for the lack of anything else to do. He turned and pushed himself away from the register. Tried to ignore how he stumbled just a little bit with his leg. "I'm…I…" He breathed out fast again. He shook his head and moved so that he could cross his arms tight over his chest. "I'm going to go upstairs," he rasped. "I just…I don't think I'm good. Down here." He glanced over towards the windows, his stomach clenching just a bit at the sight of the people milling around there. How many of them were reporters, too?

Tadashi weakened. "Hiro, you don't—"

"I just want to leave," he said, blunt now. "I'm just…going upstairs." He met Tadashi's eyes briefly, making sure that the desire was understood to be more of a beg. Tadashi seemed to grasp it eventually. He stayed silent, and just nodded once. Hiro didn't need to be told twice, and he just turned, hunching over a little bit as he turned and went for the stairs. He could feel everyone staring at him. He could feel the way that they were thinking about him, even. It caused him to, despite the limp, rush even faster for the steps. He just wanted to get upstairs and escape the attention of everyone. Escape the bakery that somehow seemed much too crowded.

He wanted to escape the question that was ringing in his ears.

Are you going to speak?

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Hiro sat at his desk, tapping his pencil dully against the wood. He was propping his head up on one hand, and, blankly, he stared at the paper in front of him. There was no attention in his eyes though. He was just blank as he surveyed the writing that was there. He was completely unmoving. He'd been sitting here for going on thirty minutes after he finished writing. He seemed to have reached a point where he wasn't sure where he was supposed to go from here.

Footsteps came up the stairs, getting closer, and Hiro closed his eyes wearily. He was already braced for the hesitant, sad little way Tadashi called out his small: "Hiro?" He sighed a little bit, but turned nevertheless, turning his chair towards the steps. Sure enough, his older brother was lingering in the landing, looking nervous. It had been hours since the scene in the café. Likely, he'd either stayed down to help Aunt Cass for the rest of the night, or he had just been wondering how he was supposed to approach the conversation.

Hiro wondered if she knew, too. If she'd be up here soon enough.

Tadashi shifted his weight a bit from foot to foot. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Hiro stared at him for a moment. Then he turned and looked back down at the papers in front of him. There were about ten, probably. It'd gotten out of hand. When he replied, his voice was soft and hollow. "No," he mumbled. "…Not really."

Tadashi glanced down at the ground. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides. "Can I…help?" he asked after a small pause. "Can I do anything for you?"

He considered it for a second. Absently, he began to drum his pencil against the desk again. His forehead creased, and his eyebrows drew together. For a while, it seemed as though he'd ignore the question entirely. But eventually he did speak up, though he kept his gaze down. The reply was unexpected in the first place, but the content of it caused Tadashi to straighten in even deeper surprise. "Actually, yeah, I think there is," he said. He turned, looking back over at his brother. His expression was slightly awkward. "Can you take me somewhere?"

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

They walked in silence. It was usually what people did in places like this. There wasn't much they could say to each other that hadn't already been said, or wasn't already mutually understood. They just walked side-by-side, Tadashi walking a bit slower than he normally did to help compensate for Hiro's small limp. They hadn't told Aunt Cass where they were going, and they hadn't brought Nozomi along. They'd gone by themselves. Initially, Tadashi had even offered to stay in the car. But Hiro knew that he wouldn't be able to do this without him there with him.

He'd googled where it was. By this point, when he typed the question into Google, it pretty much popped up in the first link provided. It wasn't private information; not anymore. Someplace probably nobody save for three people bothered to remember beforehand, was now on the top result of a search engine. Somehow, it made Hiro feel guilty and sick; guiltier and sicker than he'd already felt doing this in the first place. He tried to distract himself as they walked, just trying to keep his chin up as they maneuvered through the grass.

Eventually though, they came to a stop. Tadashi did first, and Hiro found himself taking just a few more steps closer, before he halted as well. His stare was already heavy, but it was nothing compared to the feeling in his chest. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel when he saw it. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to feeling anything, really. He felt a little empty. Maybe that was all he was supposed to feel. Maybe that was all that made sense. All he knew was that it was weird. To be standing in front of the reason he had been taken away in the first place.

To be standing in front of the smooth stone labelled: 'Abigail Callaghan.'

He sighed uneasily through his nose. He glanced down at the grass underneath him, feeling a little sick at the thought of her residing somewhere there. Beneath his feet. Somewhere Callaghan could not go to get her, and therefore somewhere that had driven him insane. Tadashi said nothing; he was completely silent as he just gave Hiro the reins of the situation. He'd been the one to ask to come here, after all. Eventually, Hiro crossed his arms, as if he was hugging himself for warmth. "It looks nice," he offered weakly.

Tadashi shoved his hands into the pockets of the jacket he was wearing. "Yeah," he agreed. Obviously, he was keeping his voice more upbeat than Hiro was. "It looks really nice. Nice spot, nice…" He trailed off, and his face fell. Even he was unsure of what he was supposed to finish that off with. Eventually he just settled for clearing his throat and falling silent.

"It's weird," Hiro mumbled, disregarding the failed attempt. He was trying, and that was all that was worth it. "To stand here. It's…odd." He glanced down at his hands, to the paper he was holding. "'Cause…she was a real person, you know? She was real. It's just…sometimes…" He shook his head. "Sometimes when I think about her, all I think of is him. And sometimes…when I think of her, all I think of is me. Sometimes it's not always her. And that's what most people are going to do, from now on." He glanced over at his brother. "That's what you do, isn't it?"

Tadashi hesitated, as if he wanted to argue the point. But he couldn't. He just nodded a little bit.

Hiro looked back at the grave. "That's sad," he mumbled, his voice a bit thicker with the admission. "Because…she was a real person. She was her own person." He grimaced at the mistake. Though he knew that he couldn't fix it, and be correct. So he weakly just elaborated. "She was. Before…all this." He tilted his head to the side. "In a way, I guess Callaghan got what he wanted. In the end. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to think of myself again without her." His eyes were burning now, and Tadashi was looking away, trying to hold himself together for his little brother. "Nobody will. For the rest of my life, I'm going to be that kid who got taken, and forced to be someone else. I'll be related to…her." He couldn't bring himself to get the name out. "So I guess Callaghan reached his goal in the end. Just…not in the way he thought he would. Not in the way he truly wanted."

Tadashi was lost for words. So, lamely, he just leaned over, putting a hand down lightly on Hiro's shoulder. The touch wasn't much, but it was there all the same. Hiro still took comfort in it. It still meant a lot to him. Everything did, now.

He drew himself up a little bit. He turned and wiped at his eyes roughly with the sleeve of his jacket. "I don't know why I wanted to come here— I don't know why I thought it would help. I think it was more…just me thinking it was something I should do." He smiled a sad little grin. "Strange to think that…I was almost put in the exact same position…to try and undo what was here. He wasn't all that smart a person." The joke was in bad taste, and he knew it the moment it escaped his mouth. Tadashi tightened his hold on Hiro just a little bit at the mere notion, but to Hiro's relief, he didn't say anything. It was probably better that way.

Hiro looked down with a heavy sniff. He rubbed at his face again before he began to scan the ground. He landed on a small rock that was a few feet away. He went over to it quickly before scooping it up and doubling back. Neatly, he laid the note down at the foot of the headstone, making sure that the rock added a weight to ensure the paper wouldn't fly away. He felt a little silly doing it, but he arranged it nonetheless. He'd written a lot. About three pages. Again, he wasn't sure why.

Tadashi watched him intently. There was a question on his lips, Hiro knew, but he also knew his brother would never bring himself to ask it aloud. So Hiro answered it regardless, knowing that it wouldn't be right to drag him all the way out here for nothing. "I just told her I don't blame her," he explained softly. "She didn't have anything to do with it." He looked back to the grave. His stare didn't seem so heavy anymore. "I guess I just…tried to explain myself a bit. I felt like I needed to."

Tadashi looked at him steadily. "You don't have to explain anything," he objected reluctantly.

Hiro shrugged. "I wanted to," he said simply. He surveyed the stone in front of him, and his expression grew a little bit more serious. When he spoke, his voice was stronger, and a little bit louder. "And…and I think I want to explain a little more," he started, picking his words slowly, and with care. He could feel Tadashi staring at him. So he forced himself to straighten. "I think I have the right to. I think…I will."

Again, came the objection. The words spurred from nothing except for the need to shield him from anything more. "You don't have to. Don't feel like you have to."

"I don't," Hiro replied. "Not really, I mean. Maybe just a little bit. But…mostly…I just want to." He gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, thinking. All the while, he stared unblinking at the stone. "I want to say my part. I know…that it'll be scary. And…that I'll probably tell you I want to leave when I get there. But…I feel like if I don't say anything…it wouldn't be fair. To either of us," he said, indicating the grave in front of him. "If I do this…I'll finally be able to leave it all behind. Or at least, I'll have the best chance at leaving it." He looked over at his brother. "I wasn't about to let you back out of your classes because of the way people were talking about you, or looking at you. Why should I be any different?"

Tadashi's eyes softened, and he reached over to draw his little brother into a tight hug. After a small hesitation, Hiro's arms reached up to return the embrace and lock around his middle. "You're amazing, do you know that?" Tadashi asked, his voice warm and proud. "You're absolutely amazing."

Hiro smiled into Tadashi's jacket. His heart tore with happiness at the sentiment. Before, back when he was taken, he would only think of Tadashi as angry with him, as disappointed. Blaming him for going out at night when he wasn't supposed to, and admonishing him for every mistake he made while there, like the situation with the knife. To hear him like this again was always a relief. A reminder that he'd made it out, and that he was shaking everything off of himself, little by little.

This would just be another step in the right direction, he knew.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"This is the worst, why in the world did you let me do this?" Hiro hissed, barely-contained panic alive in every syllable of his voice. Aunt Cass and Tadashi stared back at him a little hollowly, unsure of what to say in reply. The three of them were sitting in some back room, stuffed away out of sight until it was time for Hiro to step out. They were all dressed to the nines. Aunt Cass was wearing a long-sleeved black dress; Hiro hardly ever saw her in anything nearly that fancy, so it was almost something of a shock for him. Tadashi was wearing dress pants and a jacket— his hat had been left back at home, so his hair was fixed and gelled.

Hiro was the best dressed out of both of them. He was wearing a suit— something that Cass had bought him for the prom he never went to in high school and so he just had laying around in the closet. It still fit and everything, apparently. But right about now, Hiro was cursing the fact that it did. The tie was way too tight. The sleeves were uncomfortable, and so were the shoes. He couldn't breathe in it, and it was way too hot. He paced back and forth, able to cross from one wall to the other in a matter of moments, thanks to how small the room was.

That was another thing, too; this stupid room was way too small! He was suffocating in it!

He whirled around after a pause, his expression angry and almost betrayed as he looked from one person to the other. "How could you let me do this?" he repeated sharply. "This is stupid, this is— let's just tell them we're not doing it anymore. I'm not doing it anymore, I'm not." He turned, heading for the door with a decisiveness that gave off finality. "We're going home. This is dumb."

Tadashi got up from the chair he'd been sitting in at this. He rushed forward and grabbed onto his brother's wrist, tugging him back before he could make it to the doorknob. "Hey!" he said, offering him a bright smile, despite the glare that was now being fired his way. "You specifically told us last night that we weren't allowed to let you back out of this! You said that no matter what you did or said, we shouldn't let you weasel out!" His stare was sympathetic though, and just a little bit pained. "You got this," he said, a little bit softer now. "Don't worry about it."

Hiro deflated like a balloon. He bit down on his lower lip hard for the briefest of moments, to keep it from trembling. But when he spoke, he couldn't keep his voice its fearful waver. "I can't do it, Tadashi," he admitted. "I can't do it— I'm going to mess it all up. I don't…" He looked down at his hands, where he was holding the stack of papers he'd had on his desk. The things he'd been writing and adding to for what felt like forever. They wouldn't do it justice. They wouldn't do anything justice. He knew that. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why did he promise he would be here? Why had he asked Aunt Cass to help him make the arrangements?

He looked back up at Tadashi now. His eyes were burning, and raw. "It's not going to be enough," he croaked.

"And that's fine!" Tadashi reassured. He smiled tenderly and reached up, fixing Hiro's hair a little bit, to make sure one side wasn't sticking up too much more than the other. "That's fine that those papers aren't enough. Because you're enough. Okay?" He was speaking so low, he was almost whispering. But he may as well have been shouting, for all both Hiro and Aunt Cass were paying attention to him. "You've always been enough. The fact that you're even here is enough. So don't you dare doubt yourself for a second, Hiro. Because you're stronger than anyone else that'll be in that room. And you're stronger than anything they could pull on you." He was quiet for a moment before he asked: "Understand?"

Hiro felt a lump in his throat. He glanced down at the floor, mostly out of habit. But after a moment of nothing, he gave a slow nod. "…Okay," he mumbled. When Tadashi still stared at him just as fixedly, he cracked a weak little smile. "Okay," he repeated, just the tiniest bit louder. "Yeah."

Tadashi beamed and drew back. "We'll be right with you, too," he reminded. By now, Aunt Cass had gotten up too, to stand at his side in front of the youngest. "We'll be right there— we won't let anything happen on our watch."

Hiro smiled. He started to open his mouth to reply, when the door suddenly opened instead. All three turned around at once, instantly recognizing the person that had led them in in the first place. Hiro hadn't bothered to remember her name, but she was dressed in some official-looking attire, and she smiled pleasantly to them all. "You'll be speaking soon," she said gently. "If I can lead you out?" Hiro was reluctant. He supposed he should be glad he wasn't forced to sit through the whole thing— he should be glad for the time he did get to sit out, even if the room was uncomfortable. So he offered her a smile he hoped wasn't too fake, and turned to trail after.

The family stuck close together, of which Hiro was grateful for. They courthouse was huge and intimidating, and the sound of Aunt Cass' heels seemed to bounce and echo off of the arching walls around them in an almost menacing way. It rubbed Hiro the wrong way, but he kept walking just the same. His expression was cautious however; the hallways were empty, but for how on-edge he was, it might as well have been crawling with criminals.

The walk was silent. At one point, Aunt Cass leaned over and took hold of Hiro's hand, who immediately squeezed hers in response. Tadashi lingered just a bit closer to Hiro than he normally would have as well, and Hiro wasn't about to complain about that, either. He would take all that he could get at the moment. He was drinking it all in and trying to concentrate as hard as he could on the comforting presences beside him, that he hardly noticed that they finally approached one of the doors lining the hallway.

The woman glanced at him and offered him another smile. "You ready?" she asked gently.

Hiro grimaced. He'd been prepared for it, and prepped. He'd been talked to about what it would mean to be here. Suddenly his mind was going blank, though. He couldn't remember the smallest bit of advice he'd been given. All he had were these stupid pieces of paper, which looked completely stupid to him, now. Did everyone come in with paper? He swallowed and held a bit tighter to them, crinkling them up in the process. Not glancing at either Aunt Cass or Tadashi, and simply looking straight forward, he gave a tense nod. The woman let her smile linger for the smallest moment more, as if her grin would give him all the solace he would need. And then she leaned over and opened the door for him.

Instantly, Hiro grimaced at the small roar of conversation that immediately met him when he came into view. His stomach curled in nervousness at the crowd that was inside— nearly every seat was filled. It was swarming with people. He could see cameras, and instantly felt the weight of not only everyone's stare, but the fact that he was probably going to be shown to quite a lot more. At first, he was too alarmed to move at all. It was only a small touch on the shoulder by Tadashi that roused him enough to stir. He blinked rapidly, and, struggling to remember how to breathe, he began to force one foot in front of the other.

If he was ever conscious of his limp before now, he was way more conscious of it now. He shuffled down the aisle between the seats, which suddenly seemed about five miles long. He tried to keep his stare forward, but found that looking at all the legal figures up ahead was even more daunting, despite the fact that they all looked at him in clear sympathy. So he turned, glancing fervently instead at the people he passed. He tried to remember whether or not he'd ever seen them. Maybe they were one of the reporters who had gotten in his face.

His eyes grazed over someone in the crowd that he passed. They were looking intently at him, though it wasn't unlike the rest of the people around. Something about this person made Hiro do a small double-take, and to let his eyes stay on him briefly. They locked eyes in an awkward fashion, and, walking a little bit straighter as he got more confused, Hiro immediately tried to figure out why he thought this person looked familiar. He'd never seen them before. He hardly ever got out in the first place, and certainly not after all of this. So where—?

He turned quickly just in time to avoid running into one of the legal figures. Hiro wasn't well-versed enough to understand who was who. But, as Aunt Cass and Tadashi stayed glued to his side, he knew that he couldn't bring himself not to look. Feeling his mouth run dry, he turned and looked over to his right, to one of the tables that were stationed in front of the audience. And instantly, he took a small step backwards, into Aunt Cass, who instantly leaned over and wrapped him up in a bracing hug. Tadashi shuffled to the side as well, and though there was pain in his eyes, there was also sense of deep anger and hatred.

It was a stark comparison to what he looked like, though. Hiro stood stock-still, completely rigid as he stared at Robert Callaghan for the first time since he'd been freed. Really looked at him, in person. The last memory he had of the man was fuzzy and unfocused. But he remembered his face, twisted over in deep anger, and the reek of alcohol he must have downed once he'd begun to panic about being found out. He'd looked scary and frightening, but Hiro realized inwardly that he would much rather have anger, than the expression he was looking into right now.

Callaghan looked like he was a fourth of whatever person he had been before. He looked tired, and skinnier, and he was even sporting some facial hair. He was handcuffed, too, Hiro realized. The boy had to wonder whether he'd been like this the entire time, or he was just held back for this specific reason. For his being here. But the thing that caused the most discomfort to stab through him was the look that was on Callaghan's face.

He was staring at Hiro as if he had never seen him before, or as if Hiro was the last available blanket in the middle of a snowstorm. A smile was ghosting over his face, and as Hiro looked over to him and they locked eyes, it only grew and began to get stronger. Hiro's own expression weakened and crumbled in discomfort, and he held the papers in his hands a bit closer to his chest. Callaghan started to stand up, and Hiro immediately stiffened and shrank back into Aunt Cass. Tadashi reacted instantly as well, stepping to the side and throwing one arm out, as if to shield his little brother.

One of the people sitting beside Callaghan turned, grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him back down before he could get too far up. He sat down willingly enough in his chair, though his expression turned a bit more strained at the separation. Apparently, he wasn't able to discern anything from the terrified look that was on Hiro's face. Because he even dared to call out for him, his smile still relentless, despite…well, everything. "Hiro!" he cried, the amount of happiness in his voice liable to cringe away from. "Hiro!"

Breathing a little uneven, Hiro quickly turned away.

The judge reacted quickly. A glare coming over her features, she was quick to bring down her gavel, the hard noise bouncing and echoing in the huge room in a way that made Hiro jump and cringe. "Order!" she snapped. "Robert Callaghan, I will not have you make contact with this boy, do you understand? You are to sit like everyone else and give respect. I pray you do not interrupt this proceeding a second time." Callaghan didn't even look at her, though he did remain silent and sat back down willingly.

The judge watched him a moment more. Then she turned, looking over to Hiro now. He didn't meet her gaze at first, though. He got sidetracked, looking over to the side to see that he was being recorded by a camera. He'd understood that it was televised. This was the hearing, after all— the sentencing hearing. But he hadn't stopped to think about what live TV meant. He blinked, momentarily frozen as he just stared at the lens of the camera. He'd been prepared and told about all of this. Mentally prepared, that was. But at the moment, it was occurring to him that he was actually not prepared at all. Not nearly enough.

"Hiro Hamada?" the judge asked. He stiffened and turned, doing a double-take as he forced himself to snap to attention. She was staring at him intently now. Though her gaze was attentive, it was also a little sympathetic at the same time. It was hard not to look that way, he guessed. He felt like a deer in headlights— he had no idea what he actually looked like. When he turned and just stared up at her, she rose her eyebrows a little bit. "You've come to speak?" she asked.

Hiro blinked again. He glanced at Aunt Cass, as if he was waiting for some kind of help from her. She just shifted, moving so that she could loop her arm tightly through his, so that he could hold his papers. "I…" He looked over at Tadashi now, feeling that the room might be spinning a bit. When he turned and met Tadashi's gaze, his brother smiled in encouragement, and gave him a small nod. He squeezed his shoulder and mouthed silent: 'Breathe' to him. Just a small attempt at calming him down.

Hiro's expression turned a bit more determined. He followed the instruction as he turned back front, steadying himself and inhaling slowly. "Uh…yes, yeah, I…" He cleared his throat and shuffled his papers, glancing back down. He tried to ignore the cameras that were facing him. The subtle click of photos being taken. Wearily, he took in another breath. "I-I'm Hiro," he stated, very stupidly. "I…have been asked…for what seems like forever, really…whether or not I would be here today." He turned a bit, clearing his throat. "And for a while, I didn't think I would. Or at least…I didn't know. But…" He tried to offer the smallest bit of a smile, to make it clear that he was trying to be light about this. Trying to make a joke somehow, if he even could. "Here I am."

The whole place was completely silent, now. If someone dropped a pencil on the ground, the resulting sound would be an atomic bomb equivalent. He grimaced, knowing that the quiet was solely for him. All ears were on him— all eyes. He looked down at his papers, and his next exhale was noticeably shakier. "Um…I don't really know whether or not what I have to say is important. I don't know if it'll change whatever is going to happen. But…maybe that's why I want to say it. Or at least…you know, at least some of it. Because even though it might not change much…with this, I think it'll change a lot for me. At least I think so. So I wanted to make…my part of this known. Or at least a little bit of it."

He cleared his throat again, hopefully for the last time. "I didn't know that when I left my house that night, I wasn't going to be coming back. And I'll be the first to say that what I was doing was stupid, and that it was dangerous, but I never thought for one second it would turn out to be as dangerous as it really was." He winced, but pushed on. "I didn't know I would be making the worst mistake of my life. I couldn't have. But…I did.

"I think…at the end of each year, you kind of stop and look back to things that had happened earlier, and you think to yourself that it kind of went by fast. That the year felt really short, and you had no idea where the time went." He wilted, with this. "But it wasn't like that for me. From the very second I woke up in a bunch of rope, to the second before I last fell unconscious because of something Robert gave me, every single day felt like a lifetime. By some point, I couldn't even tell days apart. They were all just one long thing that never ended, and never got any easier."

He sniffed, finding that his eyes were already beginning to well up with tears. He tried to keep his voice as in control as possible, but he could already hear it thicken and begin to get away from him. "It never got easier, even though I tried to make it easier. I tried…to be what he wanted me to be, just because I had no other choice. He told me about…about his daughter, and how this was going to work. How I needed to be more like…her because I already was so similar." He could get the name out. He could feel it on his tongue, but he couldn't shove it through.

"I think the worst part about it all— well, there were two worst parts," he fixed. He drew his shoulders up a little bit, gnawing a little on the inside of his cheek before he continued. "The first was being away from my family. From my aunt, and from my brother. I never knew what they were doing. At some point…after so long…I started to think that they didn't care where I was. At least…that's what Robert would always tell me. When he saw Tadashi at school that day, he would tell me how he was with his friends. How nobody cared I was gone. That life was continuing." He didn't turn and look at his family when he said this. He didn't think he could. "So that was one of the worst parts. Is that I didn't have anything but…but him. No family, but him."

He reached up to rub at his eyes, feeling a pang in his chest in the process. He scanned over his papers, trying to stay on one point and not wander away. It was getting harder and harder. "But the other…the other worst thing would be the fact that the longer I was there, the more I started to lose track of who I was. I saw videos of…her, I was told stories of her, I was taught all of her favorite songs, and I was given some of her shirts to wear that fit. Basically…I wasn't myself. I tried to stay myself, but after so long of being yelled at, and being hit, and being starved, I just…gave up." He blinked a few times and grimaced as he felt the first of his tears leak over his cheek. "And now I don't think that I can go back to the way I was. Because I changed so much. To try and stop everything.

"And some people could blame me for that, and I wouldn't mind too much because I blame myself for it too, a little bit. Sometimes." His voice broke a little on the word. "But I couldn't help it. It was just hard. It was just really hard. Every day, when I didn't do something right, I would get hurt. I would stare down the barrel of a gun; I've never done that before, but before too long, it almost became normal. Which was scary. And Robert…would always threaten my aunt and my brother. He would tell me if I didn't do what he wanted, or if I tried to get out myself, I would lose what I had, really, already half-lost."

He sniffed and wiped his cheeks. When he went on after that, anyone present could hear the pain in his voice as it fell out underneath itself. He would have been embarrassed about it, if he wasn't so focused on what he was saying. "And I tried to get out. I tried really hard." The suit he was wearing functioned well to cover the scar that marred his skin. That reminded him of all that had happened every time he looked down at it. "I did all I could, and it wasn't enough. And even when I did get back home…I still felt trapped. I still feel that way, sometimes. Like I never got out— like I'm still there." His breathing hitched, and he choked a little bit on the next words that made it out. "I think I'll always feel that way— maybe not all the way, but…when I'm all alone, and there's nothing else to think about. Or when someone brings it up, or when I'm trying to go to sleep. That feeling will always come back to me, because that's the way it's been up until now."

He paused for a long moment, closing his eyes tightly. It was getting harder to read the words he'd written in preparation for this, as he shuffled through the sheets. The tears that kept building up in his eyes led the writing to blur and smear in front of him. "I don't think I'll ever get free of this. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at myself the same way again, and I don't think anyone else will, either. I think that wherever I go, this will follow me, and there's nothing I can do about it."

He looked up from the papers now, his eyes narrowing and his jaw locking backwards. A little bit of anger hung in the back of his stare now, however reluctant it was. "So I don't think that Robert should be able to do the same. I don't think it's fair." He sniffed, and shook his head with a thick swallow. "I don't know the logistics of the whole thing. I don't want to. I don't want to know whether or not he's insane, or if he knew what he was doing to me, every day that I was forced to be there. I don't want to know what he said he was thinking when he didn't take me to the hospital, when I hurt myself. If he was thinking at all. I don't want to know.

"I never knew my dad. Not really. He died when I was three. And maybe the worst thing about this…the third worst thing…is that he doesn't cross my mind anymore. Not initially." He wasn't even trying to wipe at his eyes anymore, wiping away the tears wouldn't do anything. Too many were rushing down at this point. "Whenever I heard the word, 'Dad', I'll think of Robert Callaghan. The very first thing that will occur to me, is this complete mess. This nightmare I thought I would never get out of. I won't be able to think of who was really there for me— who really loved me, some time ago. I'll always be haunted by what happened here. In some way. And it's not fair that Robert shouldn't be the same."

He hesitated, briefly. For a moment, all he did was stand, frozen, and stare ahead. He gave himself the few seconds to back out. But he eventually drew himself up and straightened. He turned and unwound his arm from Aunt Cass, turning to look instead to the table where Robert sat. By this point, Hiro was unsurprised to see the blank stare he was getting in response. Callaghan certainly didn't look as enthused. His face was a slate, with the tiniest bit of anger smoldering in the back of it. The anger almost made Hiro stop and hunch back into Aunt Cass. But he struggled to keep a hold on his panic. He was chained— there was no way for him to make a move.

Instead, he glared at him. A little weakly, and with a little fear, but a glare all the same. His voice trembled like a leaf on its way out. "You did something awful," he all but whispered. Still, Callaghan hardly even blinked. "You did something awful to me." His lower lip trembled, and his voice came out about an octave higher than it normally did when he said: "You made me think that you killed my brother. When I woke up in the hospital, I didn't even believe he was sitting there."

He shook his head quickly. "You may not have taken my brother away from me, but you took so many other things. You took away my happiness. And my confidence, and my identity, and everything in between. I'm trying to get those things back, and I am. But it's hard. And you made it hard. It's hard because of you." His voice was harder now, and harsher. The determination and harshness in his stare was growing stronger, despite himself. "You didn't just take away a year of my life. You took away a lot more than that. Because it'll keep being hard, until I can eventually dig my way out, which I'm going to do. I'm going to dig my way out. Not…" Again, he couldn't get out her name. It was such a simple thing, that he apparently could not do.

Lamely, Hiro just backtracked. "I'm going to be better than this. I'm going to get better than this. But you're not going to. You shouldn't get to." He took in another sharp breath. "You broke me down so much, that when I told you I loved you, I really meant it. I…needed…you. Do you know...how messed up that is? Do you even know? Do you even get it?" Still, Robert only stared at him. If anything, his stare was meaner. It only confirmed Hiro's thoughts. So he took in a slow breath, and his voice came more disappointed now. "I'm going to move on from this. I'm going to get to. But I know you won't."

He was coming to a close, now. He was running his course. There wasn't much point in going on much longer. "I wish this could have ended differently. I really wish it could have." Because he'd given him time and time again, chance after chance, to take things back. To let Hiro go, and for things to end amicably. But it never turned out to be true. What would have happened if such had been the case? He guessed it was pretty pointless to wonder. "Because this isn't what anyone wanted. It's not what I wanted." He paused, biting on his lower lip. He cleared his throat and stated dully: "It's certainly not anything she would have wanted, either."

Robert's expression did change, with this. He stiffened, in a way that Hiro could pick up even where he stood. His eyes flashed, and a little bit more sorrow flooded into his stare. Hiro was through looking at him, though. It was making him sick— his stomach was in knots, and his legs were shaking by this point. He just turned, leaning back into Aunt Cass, who instantly wound her arm through his once more. Tadashi sidled closer to him, as well, his expression still wary and protective. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but silence. An air of expectance at the question of whether or not Hiro was finished. So, quietly, he offered a small whisper of: "Thank you."

There was silence again, for the briefest of moments that felt like a lifetime. But then there was a slow smattering of applause. Applause that spread through the people that were watching, and momentarily filled the space to the brim. Hiro looked down at the floor, his eyes a little wide as he let out a relieved breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders, to hear the small burst of applause. He didn't really felt like he deserved it; he didn't feel like he did much.

But here he was. He'd done it.

The judge looked at him steadily where she sat. "Thank you, Hiro," she murmured.

He nodded. He glanced one more time over at Robert— one final look. Before he held close to Aunt Cass and felt her turn, to begin to walk back down the aisle. They'd planned to take a seat in the back, to stay and listen to the sentence that Robert Callaghan would get. But right as Cass made for a row they could find, Hiro tightened his grip on her and turned instead for the door. The other two followed him without any hesitation whatsoever. Instantly, they followed him out of the room— out of the prying eyes of those that were there, and the cameras that were trained on him as well.

He stumbled out of the room and the door shut behind them. The family was standing alone, back out in the hallway they had walked down to get there. It was then that Hiro took his arms back to himself, breathing out heavily again as he ran his hands through his hair. His hands and legs were shaking, and he turned to the wall, pressing his back against it and sliding down. Instantly, Aunt Cass flocked over to him and crouched down, putting her hands on his knees in worry. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked, already sounding frantic. "Honey, do you need something?"

Hiro was quick to shake his head. "No," he sighed. "No, I'm…I'm okay. I'm fine, I'm just…" He grimaced, looking up again and heaving his millionth exhale. "That was just a lot," he breathed. Tadashi crouched down in front of him as well, at Aunt Cass' side, and Hiro looked from one to the other, apprehension leaking into his gaze. "I don't…" He looked down at the papers in his hand. He'd gotten off track. He hadn't said all that was in there, and he had added a few things too. His forehead creased. "I think I did it wrong," he managed dismally, after a second.

Aunt Cass weakened a bit. She had tears in her eyes, Hiro realized. Her eyes were glistening with water, though she was doing her best to hold it back. At her nephew's fear, she leaned forward, wrapping him up in a hug as she pulled him close. "No, honey, no," she whispered, choked. "You did perfect, honey. You couldn't have done anything better at all. "I'm so proud of you, baby. And I love you so much." She turned and peppered his cheeks with quick kisses.

Tadashi smiled and leaned over rub his shoulder comfortingly. With sympathy in his eyes, he asked a soft: "Do you want to go back in? Or no?"

Hiro looked up, his expression doubtful. He looked over his shoulder, to the door that was to the side. He bit down on his lower lip and hesitated.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"You think dogs bring the ball back to you because they think you just like throwing the ball?" Hiro asked, thoughtful as he looked down at Nozomi, who was coming back to him for the thirtieth time. He was sitting at one of the café tables, a smile on his face as he stooped down to grab up the toy. Tadashi snickered, looking up from where the table he was wiping down. Behind him, Aunt Cass was going over some bills, trying to get themselves caught up on payments and such.

"I don't know," Tadashi quipped. "Maybe you should ask her."

Hiro made a face. He turned, looking behind him with raised eyebrows. "What about you, Baymax?" he asked. "Do you think dogs bring back the balls for you? Or for them?"

Baymax blinked slowly, processing the question a little pointlessly, given that such a thing wouldn't be in his database at all. He looked down at Hiro intently, regardless, and the teenager grinned as he realized that the robot was actually trying. "I do not know, Hiro," he replied. "I could certainly find the answer for you, though, if you desire to know."

Hiro laughed, shaking his head. "No, Baymax, it's fine. There's not an answer."

"Why did you even bring him all the way down here?" Tadashi asked, undoing a stray straw and blowing the wrapper over to Hiro. It collided against his head, to which the younger brother immediately soured at. "I swear, if you asked for my help in dragging his charging station all the way down both flights of steps, so you could ask why Nozomi is so obsessed with a ball, I'm gonna chop your head off. All dogs like fetch. This isn't breaking news."

"I brought him down because I like him," Hiro chirped. He turned, reaching back to poke the robot. "We're pals. Aren't we Baymax? We're tight. Tell Tadashi."

Baymax looked down at him and seemed to focus. Then he looked over at Tadashi. "We are tight," he stated calmly, causing Hiro to double over in laughter.

Tadashi cracked a grin too, unable to help it. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. Baymax looked back at Hiro and tilted his head to the side. "I do not understand the joke," he said. "However, your neural levels are elevated, and therefore I have made you happier." Hiro softened a little bit at the sentiment. His expression turned more affectionate, and grateful. "Is there anything else you would like me to repeat?" the robot asked. "Something that would make you laugh again?"

Hiro lit up like a Christmas tree. He turned around in his chair, looking at Baymax intensely, now. "Oh my God, Baymax, can you say—?"

"Hiro, no." Tadashi was quick to stop him, before he could even say anything.

Hiro twisted back around. "Why not?" he demanded in shock. "I just want—"

"You're gonna corrupt him. I'm going to have to build an entirely new one."

The younger started to argue, when he realized that Tadashi seemed distracted now. His brother looked over to the side, and his expression grew a little bit guarded. Almost a little bit angry. Uncertain, Hiro turned and followed his gaze, Cass doing the same when both of them quieted at the same time. All three pairs of eyes went over to the door to see a stranger on the other side. Well— a stranger in technical terms. But Hiro knew them. Not their name; but he knew that it was that same person from before. The man that had locked eyes with him before, in the court room. He was standing there, one fist raised as if he was about to knock. However, he stopped short when they all noticed him without it.

Hiro stood up first, surprisingly, and limped towards the door. Tadashi immediately stood up after, looking unsure. He called out his little brother's name, trying to warn him not to. But Hiro wasn't listening. Hearing both Tadashi and Aunt Cass weave around the tables to stand behind him, Hiro leaned over and opened the door. He stepped back a little bit, his expression nervous now. The man looked just as nervous too, and again, Hiro wondered where he had seen this person. Because he had. And his forehead only creased in confusion when he came up short.

It was quiet for a long time. In an awkward burst, neither of the two of them said anything. Eventually, Hiro drafted something up. It wasn't much, but it was something. "We're closed," he said, a little dumb. "There's a…noodle place down the road, though." He paused for a moment before he added a little softer: "Not really in the mood to talk anymore, today."

"No, I…" The man winced a bit and leaned back to shove his hands into his pockets. "I understand," he said. Even his voice sounded familiar. "I…I just thought you'd like to know." He looked back at Hiro now, steadily. After looking him up and down, there seemed to be a strange amount of sadness in his gaze. "He got sentenced to life," he reported. "No chance at parole." At the news, the entire family's eyes went wide. Hiro's shoulders drooped, and it looked like the wind had gotten knocked out of him. He was so surprised, that he hardly heard the other's next words. "You never came back in to hear the sentencing. And I wasn't sure whether or not you would want to watch it. So…I just thought I would stop here. And tell you."

Hiro was silent for a long time. "I…thanks," he said eventually, one eye closed in a wince.

Cass reached forward a little cautiously, wary of the stranger as she put a hand on her nephew's shoulder. The man wasn't oblivious to the fact, either. "Thank you for telling us," she offered, despite how stiff her voice sounded. "That's…that's a very big relief." It was clear nobody really knew what to do with the information. Whether to celebrate, or feel disheartened. To feel triumphant, or just nothing.

The man nodded. "He's going away for good," he pressed. His eyes found Hiro again. They stayed there. "For what he did. It was…it was truly awful. I'm sorry. I— that's what I wanted to say, too. I wanted to say that I was sorry."

Hiro managed a shake of the head. "It's not your fault," he offered in a small mumble.

He nodded again. The look was starting to get to Hiro. He knew this person. He'd talked to them before, hadn't he? Briefly? "Alright," they said. "Well…I just wanted to say that." The words were a little more than awkward. "I'll…I'll go now. Sorry for—"

"What's your name?" Hiro asked, the question blurting out. "Who…who are you?"

They paused, clearly not anticipating the inquiry. But to Hiro's relief, they didn't ignore him. They just offered him a small wince of a smile. "Oh, my name is— I'm Hikaru." The name slapped Hiro across the face, and it was clear by the small way he jerked backwards. His eyes widened a bit, and it all clicked. The familiar sound of his voice, however deeper it was now. And he could recall the features that made the other's face so recognizable. He had the same color eyes Hiro had seen in the videotape— his hair was the same dark shade. Looking at him now, clad in a suit for the trial, Hiro could remember the way he looked when he had taken her to prom. It was like staring straight at a ghost, yet the exact opposite.

"Hikaru," Hiro rasped, alarmed. "I…I know you," he said, without thinking. Hikaru's face fell somewhat, but if Hiro didn't know any better, he would have thought that he didn't look very surprised at all. In fact, by the look on his face, Hiro would guess that the other had been dreading this exact outcome. That mostly, he had only come to do this in the first place to see whether or not he would be able to see if this very thing was the case. "I've seen you, I mean," Hiro managed, trying to elaborate. Though he knew it probably wasn't worth much. "In videos. And…and I was told about you."

A little bit more pain sprung up in his eyes at the words. "Right," he murmured, barely audible as he spoke under his breath. "Abigail, she…she always liked to take videos of things. I wondered, but…I didn't want to…" Didn't want to ask? Or didn't want to know? Either way, Hiro guessed it didn't matter. It was pretty much pointless. Hikaru looked over Hiro again, in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope. "I was close, with her," he said, a little obviously. "So…when I heard what happened, I…I didn't really know what to do. I…I used to keep up with Robert. Check in every now and then, to make sure he was alright. But…I stopped, about a year ago. If I have known, I would have…I feel like I'm a little bit to blame…"

Hiro glanced back at Tadashi and Aunt Cass now. It was clear by the look on his face he was silently asking them to leave— to not hang over his shoulder when he was trying to have a conversation. The knowledge of what Callaghan had gotten as a sentence, and the knowledge that he was going away for good, was ringing in his head and demanding to be addressed. Demanding for some kind of reaction. But he knew that this was probably more important, somehow. He would react once it was through.

Tadashi glanced at Aunt Cass, who gave a small nod. The two of them, eyeing Hikaru with clear reluctance, turned to go back to what they were doing. It didn't offer too much in the way of privacy, given they weren't stepping away very far, and they certainly wouldn't keep themselves from eavesdropping. But all the same, it was something. Hiro turned back to Hikaru, wringing his hands in front of him, now. "I know," he offered. "That you two were close, I mean. I saw the videos she took. I know…that you took her to prom." 'Her.' Just 'her.' He couldn't say the name. Not yet. "I think…you were the only friend of hers I saw. On film, very often, I mean."

He smiled at this, but the expression was riddled with pain. He reached up to wipe at his mouth, and as he looked at Hiro, his eyes seemed to get a little bit shinier. "Yeah," he laughed, his voice crumbling somewhat, in a way that made Hiro weaken a tad. "Yeah, she was…" Hikaru cleared his throat, but it didn't make it any less choked when he said with slight falter: "We were going to get married. Uh…a few months before she died, I— I proposed. Did he…did he tell you that?"

Hiro was shocked he hadn't. He gave a tiny shake of the head. "No," he rasped. "No, he…he didn't."

Hikaru nodded for a while. He sniffed and rubbed at his forehead. "Yeah, well…we were," he said lamely. He glanced down, and Hiro did the same, realizing that on his left hand, there was still a small, silver band there. Still? Or was it for someone else? Somehow, by going off the way he looked, Hiro doubted it. Hikaru looked back at him now, and suddenly his expression sharpened with something close to alarm. Hiro winced a little bit as he started to speak quickly, and a little impulsively. "I'm so sorry, I just— I wanted to see you. One last time, I— I don't live here anymore, but when the news broke out, and they released a picture of you, you— you had her hair, and— and I'm sorry, you just…" He trailed off, staring at Hiro in a dismal silence.

Hiro looked to the ground now, his heart feeling heavy. He didn't say anything.

Hikaru pulled himself out of his stupor, however weakly. "You…I'm sorry," he repeated eventually. "I'm glad you're safe. And that you got out. And— and I'm sorry that…that I could have done something to prevent it, probably. You— you were right when you said what you did in the courtroom. Abigail…she wouldn't have wanted what happened. Thank you, for…for including her in that. You…you didn't have to. Speak for her, I mean. But…but it meant a lot that you did." He coughed a little bit, to clear his voice so it wouldn't keep falling out on him. "So…so I wanted to say thank you. And…and that I was sorry."

He looked up, and smiled weakly. "You're welcome." He turned to clap his hands behind his back, now. Gently, he offered a genuine: "It was nice to see you. Hikaru."

He nodded once. "Bye…Hiro," he replied after a small pause. A sense of deep pain seemed to ghost in the back of his gaze as he looked at the boy. Searching his hair that was longer, but still held a slightly similar shape to hers. Even the way he was looking at him, seemed to draw a call back to her. He had to tear his gaze away— he had to force it. "I hope…I hope you get past all of this."

Hiro kept up his smile. "I hope you do too," he replied earnestly.

Hikaru paused for a moment. But he nodded again. He offered Hiro one last smile, and one last shared glance, between two people that were not entirely connected, but connected all the same. Hikaru let his gaze linger for a little while longer before he turned his back. He started down the street the way that he had come, though, standing in the doorway, Hiro felt his gaze flicker back every so often. All the same, the young boy stayed there for a heartbeat, his stare a little heavy as he tried to absorb all that had just happened. All that it meant. It seemed to be too much.

That was what this whole situation was, though, really. Just too much.

Slowly, he stepped away from the door, and shut it behind him. Still, he stared ahead. Tadashi and Aunt Cass were already looking up from what they were doing, but Tadashi was the first to say something. "Are you okay?" he asked. "What was that all about?"

Hiro turned back to them, rubbing his arm slowly, where the scar was underneath his sleeve. "I, uhhh…he was who she was going to marry, I guess," he said lamely. "I knew him, from videos. He was in the courtroom. He just…wanted to say goodbye." A little more thoughtful than anything, he turned to look out the window, the way he had gone. Under his breath, he muttered: "And…I think he wanted to see her. One last time. Maybe."

Tadashi seemed to flash over with hostility. "Well, he came to the wrong place, then."

Hiro just blinked, and repeated himself. "Maybe." He went back front. Walked back over to them, and taking the seat he had been in before. His words a tiny bit hollow, he declared: "It's over, though. For now, anyway." There would be more reporters. Even more so now, after he'd gone out the way he had, and the results were back. But in technicalities of it. "Robert's gone. He's not going to come back." He'd be able to sleep at night without fear of the man barging in and killing his family. Ripping him back to his house and trapping him there. He glanced down, smiling at Nozomi, who put her paws up on his legs. Fondly, he scratched her ear. "It's all done."

"Yeah," Tadashi agreed, his eyes brighter now. "…You made it. You pulled through."

Aunt Cass softened, pride causing her eyes to gleam a tearful sort of love. She said nothing, though her gaze was intent as she looked between the two of her nephews. Hiro looked up, shifting his gaze from his older brother, to his aunt. He melted just a little bit too, feeling the first wave of relief hit him. Relief accompanied with regret, of course, that it had to come to this. But relief that things would die down. That this would all begin to stop, and maybe, somehow, he could begin to pick up the pieces of himself. If he could.

But it was more important than that. He knew that. This stretched beyond just him. If anything, speaking with Hikaru just now was all the proof he needed. If he even needed proof in the first place. So the smile that folded over his face was brighter, and gentle. "Nah," he hummed, looking from Tadashi, to Aunt Cass, who both looked at him in slight confusion. The boy's hand lingered on Nozomi, who was perfectly content to rest happily underneath the small pressure. He'd felt jealous of the dog, a short time ago, because she could be so happy, regardless of anything else that had happened.

Maybe he'd be able to do the same, now. In time.

Hiro continued, looking at the two with a small glimmer of hope and enthusiasm that, up until this point, he hadn't really been able to genuinely express.

"No," he repeated, again, that same light voice. "We all did."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

A/N: Anyone that wants to complain about how long this took, may I refer you to the twenty-three page count. This took quite a while, in the effort make it as thorough and great as possible. So I sincerely hope, with this chapter, I got to do just that! This is the second-to-last chapter, and I'm excited to write the very next one. I've been planning it for honestly going on more than six months. I hope it will be a well enough ending for a story like this, which I am so proud of!

I hope to hear from you all in a review, with your thoughts! I certainly put quite a lot of work into this chapter, so hearing your thoughts would be great! I hope you're ready for the next chapter, and you're enjoying the way this story is wrapping up! This is honestly one of my favorite fanfictions I've ever written, and I'm glad that I could keep writing for you and now that I could finish for you!

Apologies for any typos. In the effort to finish this story before I go back to school, I don't really have the time to edit! Though I hope to eventually!