Obake Itoko Chapter 14: Kind of Used to Being Someone You Loved, a big hero 6 fanfic

Chapter 14, everybody! And OHMIGOSH WHY ARE EMOTIONS SO HARD!?

So in other news, the reason this chapter took so long was because 1) I had to bridge last chapter to the part I had written ahead on, and 2)…emotions are hard, guys. Especially emotions that make me question what exactly I'm putting the characters through I'M SORRY OKAY!? *sob*

But Hiro's thing—and you know which thing—that was planned from the very beginning, and about half of the chapter was written up from a very early point. But I'm doubling down on the next several chapters so we can update soon and have good feelings. :)

Also: "Quarantine—do you people know what that means?" Yes, Wasabi, we do. Unfortunately. (The irony is, I'm pretty sure we weren't under quarantine when I wrote that...).

The Authverlord, thanks for the review! YES—I have it designed, I just need to post it to my DeviantArt page. It was fun designing something that had Obake's feel but still looked like it fit with the lineup. :D

Obake had been knocked flat by Hiro and Baymax rocketing off, struggled to his feet mentally cursing the robot and the idiot boy piloting it ugh he did not need that he needed more pain like a hole in the head.

And as he predicted, Cass stuck her head in.

"Did you hear that?" she asked. "What was that, some sort of hot rod? Wait where's Hiro?"

Oh look at that HE WAS RIGHT—pick up the notebook, scribble a quick excuse and hold it up.

Ran to Fred's real quick, BRB.

"Okay," she said, got ready to duck back in the house—

Stopped, looked him over. "Um…are you okay? I mean it's only been like a week but…are you okay here?"

That would explain the cupcake with the candle he had gotten yesterday. Nod, wave her off with a bland smile, breathe a sigh of relief when she ducked back in the house. Okay…what to do with himself. There was still that idea he had, about the infected microbots, and if he could get Hiro back here alone he could field it by him and convince him of the beauty of it—sure Hiro had been gung-ho on the whole costume idea, and sure Obake had been willing to humor it to get rid of the others—but now that they were gone—

"Um—"

Start at the voice and the touch to his shoulder, flinch away from Cass standing there with a plate of dumplings.

"Sorry," she said, putting the plate down. "Just figured you needed something to eat—the boys have a habit of never stopping to eat once they get on a tear—"

Her abrupt stop was of the kind where someone was talking about someone dead like they were still alive and then remembering the reality of things—the dead brother. Of course.

"Sorry," she said again, waving it off. "I know, we're kind of…and things have kind of been…and maybe it's too early to ask but…I don't know, maybe I should have been serving ice cream for breakfast, but I'm a little worried that's like, my only thing and—"

Gingerly pat her on the arm, trying to edge his expression from oh please STOP TALKING to there there. Pretty sure he could see the family resemblance between her and Hiro right now.

"Sorry," she said again, patting his arm. "Sorry, this is how I usually process everything. First there's the too much cooking, then there's the stress-eating, then there's the too much talking…maybe next week we'll be on the actually acting normal stage."

Bold of her to assume he'd still be here next week. Although he could see how Hiro could be so nervous about causing her distress, found himself filing away some of her behavior for use later. Nod to get her to leave—

Was startled when she hugged him.

"Sorry, she said again, letting go and patting him on the shoulder. "Sorry, I'm just—I really want to make this work," she said, looking away and wringing her hands. Deep breath—

And there, right there, he could see the family resemblance to Hiro—could see her shove all her emotions to the side, smiling at him.

"I'm glad you're here," she told him, patting his shoulder again. "You've done a lot for us, really." Wipe at her eyes—"I uh, I'm going to go…clean the…something. Okay."

Watch her leave, processing this, collapsing in a nearby chair and numbly going back to picking at code. This….

This was not how it was supposed to go.

He was Obake—the ghost in the machine, the terror of Good Luck Alley, the best and the brightest who would take this pitiful city by storm. He wasn't…he didn't do families. People were pain, pure and simple. The idea had been to use this family and then get out. The idea that he could use Hiro, do something with him, a cohort to replace Yosei, had been what tempted him to stay. This—this idiocy of going after Yokai…it was because he thought he could use this to twist Hiro into his own corner, banish all thoughts of the dead brother and get Hiro focused on something fun, something useful.

And now….

Obake grit his teeth in irritation—Hiro was getting better, the shadow of the dead brother not as present in his eyes anymore. That was a good thing.

The bad thing was the gaggle of others, Tadashi's friends—the plan only worked if it was just him and Hiro. With four others on hand, especially Gogo and Wasabi—suspicious of him—he…couldn't get Hiro doing what he wanted. Conditioning and manipulation worked best when the target was isolated—and now Hiro wasn't isolated.

Now, revenge was a great focal point, and Obake would be lying if he said he didn't want a crack at the man who had ruined his run at SFIT—except at the same time, he did not want to go around in a costume to pull this off. He was all about the long-distance target, of destroying someone from afar—getting in close was stupid. But Hiro had roped the others in, and Fred was being all gung-ho about it—

This wasn't Obake's style, and this no longer held any appeal.

It was time to get out of here.

Push away from the desk, stand, look around—think. Where would a kid his age hide a backpack? Hiro was good at hiding the tote bag while it still had the money—there had to be a spot where he thought Obake would never look.

Root around the garage for a moment before thinking back to that night—no, Hiro still had the backpack when he went upstairs; it had to be somewhere in the bedroom.

Go in the house, sneak up the steps, start checking under the bed and rooting around the closet—think—they had gone over this room with a fine-toothed comb when they were playing with those toys—

Pang in his chest—stop that, he thought, rubbing at his ribs. Totally from the explosion and not from thinking of that night. Think critically—that had left nowhere else for the backpack to be hiding.

Except….

He glanced at the folding partition.

The one place that Hiro had declared off-limits.

Shove the partition back, look the corner of the bedroom over—the bed was cold-looking, the way beds that used to be used but no longer were did, like forlorn was a fabric softener. Dust was gathering on everything—the bed stand, the lamp, the bookshelves, the clothes—and cobwebs were starting to be known on the baseball bats and umbrellas leaning in the larger section in the shelves.

None of it looked disturbed though, and it would have been recently—rule out the shelves, at least. Tiny folding closet—

And underneath the bed.

Get down on his hands and knees, grab the fabric, hoist up—

The camouflage pattern of his backpack greeted him as soon as he peered under.

Soft cough of success—grab the backpack, haul it out—unzip it to make sure everything was there, zip it back up—it'd be nice if he could grab some food or cash for the road, but the goal now was to just make himself scarce before anyone noticed. Shoulder his bag, sneak back downstairs—Cass didn't notice, buried up to her elbows in suds—keep going, keep going—garage door was still open, slip out, closing it behind him—

Freeze when he heard rocket boosters winding down outside. No—no he had to bolt now—start to push back into the foyer, to dodge out the back door when—

Hiro came barreling in, tugging his helmet off as he did, grinning madly.

"That was awesome!" he exclaimed, dumping his helmet on the nearest desk before practically bouncing to the 3D printer, jabbing a finger at Obake as he went. "Rocket thrusters worked perfectly—no hitches whatsoever, honest—I am never taking the bus again you have to try that AND!" Tug open the 3D printer—turn around—

Obake froze when he realized what Hiro intended.

"So, what do you think?" Hiro asked, tipping the helmet. "All the spikes you wanted, and the helmet's kind of patterned on the logo on your disk drive so…." Trail off when he finally looked at Obake properly, realized what was on his back. "You…w-what are you…."

He did not care. He did not care, should not care, should not feel badly or like he was trying to crawl out of his own skin at the sight of Hiro's glee shattering like glass and revealing that all-encompassing aching hurt inside, he had been planning this from the very beginning, this meant nothing, suck it up and get out.

"Wait!" Hiro said, stepping forward, hand out as Obake took a step for the open garage door. "You can't—you can't just leave what about that—that guy we were going to—" Stop, ball his fist, drop it, eyes moist and throat too tight by the way it was working. "You were going to help."

"You don't need me," he said, forcing it out of his shredded throat—no, he was not getting affected by this useless emotion that was from the fire—

You're afraid. What if it wasn't the Yokai? What if it was you?

No. No, it was that Yokai, none of this was his fault, his leaving shouldn't be affecting anyone this badly.

Hiro was taken aback by his speaking, recovered quickly. "Yes, I do. What happened to—everything we did—" Look away, like he was searching for a means to keep Obake there—

Fixated on something, eyes darkening. Obake followed his line of sight—

That hat. That stupid hat.

The dead brother's hat.

"Fine," Hiro spat suddenly, not looking at him, crossing over to one of the far desks. "Whatever. Just—go already. I don't care."

"Hiro," the robot started.

"I don't care, Baymax!"

Obake couldn't help the twitch—watched Hiro toss the helmet onto the desk, brace his hands against the desk….Glance at the robot, knew it was going to try some touchy-feely let's all get along type business—start for the door—

"There was this—there was this movie, Tadashi and I used to watch it all the time," Hiro muttered, not looking at him, sounding like he was choking on his words. "And—and we really loved it…because…because 'ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind.' It…it meant that no matter what, we weren't alone, because we had each other."

Obake shifted his weight, uncomfortable.

"But…if you want to leave, you can," Hiro said, head down.

Obake suddenly felt unsure about his decision—no. No, no backing out now.

"I'll remember you though."

Obake stopped…looked back at Hiro, saw him looking at the hat.

"I remember everyone who leaves," he said, quiet and brittle.

Obake hesitated….

Fled into the growing gloom outside.

This is the right thing to do, he told himself, fists and feet pumping, trying to outrun the burning feeling inside. You had no business being there in the first place.

He didn't—he was a ghost. A vicious, conniving ghost.

And ghosts had no business in a house that was already haunted.

Hiro struggled to compose himself, to clear his sinuses and dry his tears and make sure that when he went back to the others that they wouldn't be able to tell he had been crying.

"Hiro," Baymax said, mincing closer. "It will be all right."

"Y—you're right," he said, forcing the words out, forcing them to have steel behind them. "Be—because you know what? We didn't need him anyway."

Baymax blinked. "Hiro—"

"I—" Push upright, scrub his hair—stalk over to where he had left his helmet. "Come on, we have to go tell the others that—that we found Yokai."

"Hiro," Baymax said. "We still have time to find: Obake—"

"No. No, Baymax, he's—he's gone."

Blink. "Obake: has just left. It is important to—"

"What's important is getting Tadashi's…getting Yokai," Hiro finished quietly, spine feeling so tight he thought it'd crumble from the pressure. Or tear in two—something violent and painful.

"Connecting with: friends, and loved ones—"

"He's neither, okay!?" Hiro demanded, spinning around, ire spittling out of him as he gestured forcefully at the garage door. "He—he used us, okay? Just—used us and now he's…." Gone. Not like Tadashi, who was ripped from him—no, this person who maybe, could have, might have started to help with that gaping void, to help drag him out of his funk, to make the nights not so quiet and the days not so empty, to trick him into pushing all that hurt away….This person had up and chosen to just walk out of his life.

Somehow, that made it worse, made it hurt just as bad but in a different way.

Exhale hard, shake his head, shove his helmet on. "Just—forget him," he said, buckling the chin strap. "We have a bad guy to get."

Hiro had composed himself by the time they got back to the others, he thought—dredged up his excitement at finding the guy, feeling cleaner for flying—everyone was as super-stoked about their entrance as he thought they'd be, eager to go after the bad guy—

Honey Lemon asked the question he had been dreading.

"What about Obake?"

Hiro swallowed his first couple of knee-jerk responses. "He's…not coming."

"Dude," Fred said, pushing up the cap of his costume. "That totally puts a cramp in the whole first mission as a team thing. You told him that part, right?"

Hiro shrugged. "He just didn't want to come." Saw Honey Lemon's expression—"But we can't wait around—we don't know how long that guy will be at that island—it's probably the best time to get him, right? No innocent bystanders out there."

"Very true, villains like to use those to slow down the heroes," Fred said, before flipping his cap back down. "Let's do this."

Which was why they were now all on Baymax—well, Hiro, Honey Lemon, and Gogo were on Baymax. Fred and Wasabi were being carried.

"Gotta admit," Gogo said, leaning a bit on Baymax's wing. "This is a killer view."

"Uh, yeah," Wasabi said, sounding muffled—Hiro leaned forward a little to see him clinging onto Baymax for dear life, as opposed to Fred's Superman pose. "Except…you know…I'm afraid of heights, so…yeah."

Hiro winced, wasn't sure if apologizing would do it, settled for being glad that Baymax was soon touching down on the island. Soon, they'd be face to face with Yokai.

Face to face with Tadashi's killer.

Ice and fire burned through Hiro's veins, making him quake—this was it. Soon….Soon Tadashi would be avenged.

He didn't let himself think too much farther past that, ignoring Wasabi and Baymax discussing the quarantine signs ("This one has a skull face, guys—a SKULL face!"). Getting this guy was what mattered. They had to get this guy.

It couldn't all be for nothing.

Crack—

Everyone screamed, panicked, overreacted—

…And Hiro really didn't know if he should feel relieved or concerned about the fact that they didn't hit the poor pigeon that had been minding its own business prior to startling them.

"Well," Honey Lemon hedged. "At least our gear works."

Tensions only got tighter when they got into the building via Wasabi's laser blades.

"Baymax," Hiro hissed. "Can you find the guy?"

Baymax looked around—"My scanners are affected by the building—I cannot get a read on our target."

"Great," Wasabi muttered. "Robot's broken."

Hiro gusted out a small breath, fogging up his visor—deep calm breaths, deep calm breaths, ignore Fred singing under his—

"Fred," Wasabi hissed finally. "I will laser blade you in the face!"

"Wait, guys," Honey Lemon said quietly, indicating an open doorway. They minced through….

"Wow," Hiro breathed. Whatever had happened here….

Chunks of debris scattered everywhere, crushing some of the walls, twisted metal everywhere—

And on that one piece of twisted ruin—a sparrow in a circle.

The same symbol that was on the piece of debris from the bay.

"This is it," he said quietly, reaching to tap Obake before remembering himself. "This is it—we're in the right place!"

"So where's Mister Tall Dark and Creepy?" Gogo muttered, scanning the area.

"Waiting for the dramatic entrance, obviously," Fred said.

"Guys, what's that up there?" Honey Lemon asked, pointing.

It didn't take long for them to make it up to where Honey Lemon indicated, to find that it was a control room with computers and screens scattered everywhere.

"What was this place?" Wasabi asked.

"I don't know, but—look here," Hiro said, tapping on an active console. They worked it, found it was security cameras—rewound—

To find Alister Krei pitching something called Silent Sparrow to some military-type guys, throwing one of their hats through a glowing—

Portal.

"Magic hat!" Fred gasped, which was probably better than Hiro's thought, that Krei was flirting with evil pyramids like this. Wasn't surprised when the videos continued and showed eventual destruction, Honey Lemon gasping in dismay at the poor woman getting lost in the portal, the military man demanding that everything be shut down—

Wait.

"Hold it," Hiro said, jerking back a little. "If—if everything was shut down then…how is this still operational?"

"Hello," Baymax said, prompting them all to look—

Yokai.

Monolithic, dark, dim moonlight shining on him—

Which was all they saw before he slammed debris down on them—

And things went horribly wrong after that.