Obake Itoko Chapter 17: Sonic Youth, a big hero 6 fanfic

Chapter 17, everybody! I'm thinking next chapter might be the last one ohgosh—

Also, meta-commentating on my lack of summer updates excuse me whilst I go flog myself. ^^;

So originally the chapter was going to be shorter but in measuring it it would have been way too short so…fluff at home yaaas~

Mandelbulbs are those funky 3D patterns that did indeed use to be the sort of thing you saw on screensavers (super cool). And a goodly chunk of the observations of the portal world stems from the TV Tropes entry for Big Hero 6 and the analysis there. And also: Hiro able to breathe in it, sound travels, fantastic colors? That portal opens up straight into the Aetherium from Treasure Planet and no you can't change my mind.

Had to do a little reading on parabolic approaches to make sure I wasn't just pulling something off the top of my head, although the microbots still being able to function might count (oh well). Hiro references Ender's Game, which I had to read for a literature/creative writing class at Westwood College Online—liked it better than the other book I had to read, Starship Troopers, but it's not something I'd read again anytime soon. :\

Hiro is also referencing the Blue Sky film Robots, which has been on the mind since I watched it with Mom recently—and then proceeded to write a few articles on it for work because that movie needs more love.

Also: today I learned that it is "bated breath," not "baited breath," with "bated" being short for "abated." The more you know. *shrug*

ohwaitI'mgettingawrinkleforthatit'sFridayhelp—

He could feel the change in gravity, in the air, knew he had his eyes scrunched shut and was holding his breath, hanging on for dear life—

Finally took the risk, gusting his breath out as his eyes snapped open—

"Woah," he breathed, staring.

Inanely, Hiro was reminded of Tadashi's old screensavers, the Mandelbulb or whatever that weird pattern was called—all fantastic nebulae in bizarre shapes and cool colors against the blackness, pieces of Krei Tech scattered across it like asteroids in outer space.

Except this wasn't outer space, because firstly he was breathing and secondly he hadn't died from decompression. It was cold in here (out here?), freezing almost, but he was pretty sure he'd die from debris before he did anything else in here.

Which reminded him: getting Abigail Callaghan and getting out without dying.

"Okay, Baymax, find her," Hiro ordered—yup, not outer space, sound travelled in here, and when he elbowed Obake to make sure he was still there it felt like the usual sort of resistance. Maybe this was the Aetherium, that weird not-quite-outer-space that they travelled in Treasure Planet. Yeah, let's go with that, that was less terrifying than trying to apply anything he had ever learned about physics and outer space to this place Baymax was currently navigating—wince when a tiny piece of debris glanced off his helmet. "And watch out—there's Krei Tech debris everywhere—"

Hold it.

Twist back to look, saw Obake catch it—bring it up and open his hand, only for the microbot to go floating off into space again. Look—microbots were scattered all over the place.

"Think any of those are ours?" he asked, barely able to pick out the little black shapes against the ever-shifting background. Obake tipped his head like he was considering, movement accentuated by the helmet—

By the time Baymax started angling upwards, Hiro could clearly see a glimmering black cloud following them.

"Well it's better than nothing," Hiro said, looking behind them, a little concerned at his own weightlessness. "Baymax?"

"I have located the patient," Baymax announced, pointing ahead. Hiro looked—saw the pod from the security video floating above them (before them?). This far away from the portal was dark, nearly black, and it was enough to make him glance back nervously to make sure they hadn't missed their window. Callaghan's daughter might have been able to enter hypersleep, but that was a luxury they didn't have. No, at this point it was succeed or bust.

"Okay," Hiro said, heaving himself over Baymax's shoulder when he reached the pod and grabbed on—and then frantically slapping a magnetic hand against the side when the movement almost took him too far. Dig his fingers into a groove, wipe at the glass—

Couldn't help the smile and gust of relief at indeed seeing her alive but asleep in there.

"Okay," Hiro said again, grinning as he looked up at his compatriots—Obake was slipping forward, hooking his fingers into a ridge in the collar of Baymax's armor. "Baymax, we'll navigate, you get us back to the portal—what?" he asked, when Obake whistled at him. Watched as he made a curving motion with his hand—"A parabolic approach?"

Obake nodded, prompting Hiro to look around. "Yeah—yeah, that would work! Baymax, go wide—we can avoid the bulk of the debris that way, since it's mostly going straight out…think we'd be able to do a true parabolic approach or…just swing around and angle for the portal, we'll handle the rest!"

Baymax obeyed, Hiro reorienting himself and mentally chanting the portal is down—it seemed to work as well for him as it did for Ender, dodging through the thinner screen of debris on the edges before finally angling in towards the portal. Ditch the true parabolic entrance, this would be faster—

"Left and down," he said, course-correcting Baymax again. They were free—they were going to make it—look back at them, grinning—

"LOOK OUT!"

The bark from Obake startled him, made him spin around, spot the debris angling for them—"AAAH! Baymax! Dodge!" Mind not sparking out of fear, Baymax angling but too late—they'd crash, it'd slice them in half—

Baymax's rocket fist slammed into it, barely deflecting it—

A spear of microbots hit seconds later, deflecting it the rest of the way as Baymax angled down, away, and back up, aiming for the portal—

Hiro couldn't help the quick glance back. "Okay, so…celebrate after we're through."

Baymax blinked. "I have lost my: rocket fist."

"I'll make you a new one—now go!"

Baymax kicked it into high gear, Obake bringing the microbots down to scatter the remaining debris being pushed out by the portal—more force, Baymax was having to gun it—not gonna make it, not gonna—

After the fact, no one could say for sure just what happened.

Krei would hold a press conference later, thoroughly throwing one thought-deceased professor Robert Callaghan under the bus—easy to do with him sitting in the backseat of a police cruiser.

But before that, when the portal was starting to buckle, when five young adults were watching with bated breath and praying hard—a flash—

And then a pod was scraping along the concrete as the portal collapsed and died, a small purple shape clinging to it—

The red shape behind tried to get up, couldn't for a damaged booster rocket, was quickly shored up by microbots before he could get more than an oh no out—

Five young adults swarmed over two teens and a healthcare robot, hugging them tight, the thin one in white armor wriggling free, Hiro laughing and assuring them it's okay, Obake's just not used to positive feedback.

By the time authorities arrived on the scene, the small band of heroes was gone.

No one thought to look to a nearby roof, where seven shapes were looking down and watching the action, making certain that the Callaghans were taken care of. An astute eye could catch Krei, in between interviews, glancing around at the debris, but if he were hoping for any leftover microbots, there were none to be found.

Not when every last microbot was rambling into a warehouse owned by the Fredricksons, into large barrels rolled against a wall and with enough labels to deter even the most curious. Baymax teetered when the supporting ones left, accidentally fell on Fred and Wasabi, asked them on a scale of one to ten how they would rate their pain as Honey Lemon and Gogo hauled him up. Armor and other incriminating gear were stored on shelves in a safe in the warehouse, Fred locking it behind them when they were done.

No one noticed six kids and a marshmallow robot leave the warehouse to pile into the limo waiting outside. No one but a butler bore witness to them discussing what had just happened, Fred bouncing up and down excitedly as he recapped the events of the morning.

The butler in question was quite used to such shenanigans from the family he served, stopped at a Noodle Burger because—in his experience—superheroes were often hungry after saving the day.

Superheroes were also often exhausted afterwards, and no one questioned or argued with him as he dropped them off at their respective abodes one by one.

The last ones deposited before returning to the Fredrickson manor entered through the back way, not having the energy to navigate the Lucky Cat Café. No one noticed them, no one thought much of it. In this corner of San Fransokyo at least, news hadn't yet broken.

And when Aunt Cass finally managed a break, a lull in the customers that enabled her to grab a cup of coffee and sit down, she went into the living room to find her three charges on the couch, Baymax in the middle with Hiro and Obake on either side of him, out cold and snoring lightly.

Baymax blinked at her muted aww, looked at the boys, then at her, made a quiet shh noise. She nodded, came over, gently brushed the hair out of Obake's face, ruffled Hiro's hair softly—smiled at the two hands hanging on tight to each other over Baymax's white belly.

Baymax noted her attention, blinked up at her. "Some people derive comfort from physical contact."

She nodded, wiped at her eyes—hugged Baymax as he went there, there.

"You know what?" she asked softly, letting go finally. "I think we're going to be all right."

The rest of summer was almost a hazy blur.

For the rest of July and a great deal of August, the news channels only covered one thing: the incident at Krei Tech. There was one burning question continuously postulated: who, precisely, were the heroes who averted such a horrible disaster?

Callaghan was charged with a number of things: murder, attempted murder, destruction of property, theft—the channel was quickly changed after the first week of coverage on his trial. Hiro had had enough. He wanted to move on, to heal. To accept that yes, there was a giant Tadashi-shaped hole in his life, his heart.

And in doing so, accept the new changes in his life.

He saw the team frequently over the summer, them often stopping at the Lucky Cat for a meal before they went out on a more normal adventure—at some point he had stopped thinking of them as Tadashi's friends and started thinking of them as his friends.

They went home at the end of the day, though, and there were other changes being adjusted to.

Baymax was a constant companion, mostly because leaving him alone at the café ended with him giving unsolicited healthcare advice to the customers. He had asked if Hiro was satisfied with his care, and Hiro had told him yes—but he had also pointed out that he'd be sad if Baymax decided to deactivate, that he wanted his friend around and without him the day would be empty.

Baymax had blinked slowly at that, processing. "I will not deactivate," he said. Blink again. "I am honored you consider me a friend, Hiro."

"Well yeah," Hiro said, smiling. "What else would I consider you?" Blink at the notepad shoved in front of his face.

A walking marshmallow, an embarrassment, a way to rebel against your parents, a desperate cry for help—the list is endless.

Hiro shoved the notepad away, mouth screwing up in an attempt to keep from laughing at the reference. "Uh, excuse me, all that is you, thank you."

Obake shrugged, tossed the notepad on the nearest desk.

They had never moved any of Tadashi's things, or gotten Obake a better bed—Hiro resisted the former, and Obake resisted the latter. But for the rest of it…the rest of the room, the rest of the house, was starting to register another person in the house. As summer wore on, the worry that he'd wake up to find Obake gone started to fade from Hiro's thoughts.

Obake seemed to slowly grow used to living here too—you could see it, in his shoulders, in the way he held himself, that he was starting to loosen up, to relax. He wasn't fond of hugs, and he very rarely spoke, but he was becoming a constant as much as Baymax was.

And maybe because it was impossible to top that first week and a half, but summer passed sedately, everyone feeling out their new normal, Aunt Cass making "Goodness Meters" like on Lilo and Stitch 2 and rewarding them for continued weeks of good behavior (she, of course, knew nothing about the bot-fighting or Callaghan). It'd be little things, toys or a stuffed animal or a movie or game he had been talking about—but he noticed Obake lining them along the edge of his bed, suspected rewarding both was just a sneaky way of ensuring Obake had things that were his without being too obvious about it.

But as September loomed closer, as SFIT came back into the news for reopening and accepting students in the fall….

He stayed up late that night, constantly fingering the acceptance letter from SFIT and watching Tadashi's corner, like he could will some brotherly advice from the echoes he left. SFIT was repaired, but the scars were still there. He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to go, but….

"I—have—to go here. Y-you don't understand—"

That smirk on his face that suggested that yes, Tadashi did understand, he understood totally, had planned it—

The edge of his bed dipping a little startled him out of his recollections—for a hot second he thought that his thoughts had summoned Tadashi somehow—

No…no it was Obake, sitting crosslegged at the foot of his bed and giving him a look that said you've been like this for an hour TALK. Not warm or comforting like Tadashi—he could never replace Tadashi.

But…he didn't have to. He just had to be here now, like he was.

"I…think I'll be going to SFIT. In the fall," Hiro said, voice creaky from disuse. Twitch of his mouth. "I…it's something I want to do…and…I kind of think it's something I have to do." Deep breath, let it out. "I'm…I'm sorry—I'm not sure what you're gonna do in the fall—"

Obake put a hand to his shoulder, stopping him—gave him a reassuring smile, or what qualified as close enough for him. Nod, pat him on the shoulder, slip back to his bed—

Hiro tackled him in a hug, still careful of the ribs—Baymax had said their healing had been set back by the fight with Callaghan.

"Ah…thanks," Hiro muttered finally, letting go. "F-for everything. And…you know, sticking around." Cheeky grin at the expression dimly lit by the moon. "Yes, I went there."

Obake smirked, ruffled Hiro's hair before shoving him back to his bed—Hiro coughed a laugh at that, crawled back into bed….

Laid there staring at the letter for several minutes more before finally rolling over and tucking it under his pillow. Yes, there would be pain, but he thought he could handle it now.

Maybe, just maybe, they'd be all right.

They would be all right—there was no maybe about it.

Obake had been thinking ahead to the fall for most of the summer, after deciding that yes, he was staying. He was actually kind of touched that Hiro was worried for him, apparently thinking he'd be stuck going to some dredge of a high school. Aha, no—he had done did that schtick already.

Lay there much as he had that first night, waiting for the sounds of the house to quiet into sleep, until the only noises were those outside produced by the city. He was in much less pain now than he had been then.

His shoes were also by the back door now—that felt like an important distinction.

Check his watch—one o' clock. Hiro's breathing sounded even—time to move.

Pull out his laptop, boot it up, dim the lights when they promised to be blinding—find what he was looking for and get to work.

He wanted to be part of this family now, to belong—that meant changing a few pertinent documents. Hiro thought he was the only Hamada going to SFIT?

He was in for a surprise.