Hiro received his longest grounding ever as a result of his sneaking out. By the time Aunt Cass lifted his punishment, school was already out for the summer. Hiro was glad to be on vacation, but that meant the tourist season was upon them, and Aunt Cass needed all hands on deck in running the café. Hiro spent his precious free time either tinkering in his lab or hanging out down at the pier with some sea salt ice cream. Not only did he enjoy the view of the city and smell of the ocean, but the solitude also helped him clear his head.

He'd be going to a different school next year. On the one hand, he no longer had to put up with bullies, students cozying up to him so he'd do their homework, or teachers who were far less informed in their own subjects than he was. On the other, it wasn't exactly his decision to transfer to a college.

It all started when Alistair Krei walked into the café "by chance". He and Cass talked up a storm about Hiro among other things, and returned many times after that. Hiro was often called upon to demonstrate some of his prototypes; he also had to make sure Krei never found out about his venture into bot-fighting at Cass' behest. After Cass had several meetings with Krei both in and outside the cafe, he offered Hiro the chance to enroll in SFIT on a substantial discount. Cass eagerly accepted the offer on his behalf.

Hiro was grateful Aunt Cass was invested in his interests and future, but he couldn't deny the strange sinking feeling in his stomach when she agreed to the scholarship for him. He would have liked to have a say in the decision.

Later that week, Aunt Cass took him shopping for brand new clothes, which, in her view, befit a college freshman – smart shoes, dress pants, cardigans and the like. She even stopped by the SFIT store and bought him a sweater with the school's logo on it. When Hiro tried it on, Cass was ready to burst into tears; she couldn't stop saying how her special little guy was growing up so fast. Hiro thought it looked okay, but it didn't feel right on him for some reason – and not just because the smallest size she bought was still several sizes too large for him. He tried to shake those feelings off, but couldn't. He knew he should be thrilled that he was going to such an amazing school, one that hosted his favorite event and encouraged students like him to push their limits. So why wasn't he happy? Was it because of how sudden it was all happening? He tried to focus on the upsides, but the question lingered in the back of his head.

There was a terrible smell in the kitchen the following morning when Hiro went downstairs for breakfast. It was coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. His new wardrobe was swimming in murky water.

"Um, Aunt Cass, what are you doing with my clothes?" he asked.

"Well, I remembered what you said about them being a little big and "kind of blah", so I thought I'd try dying them a few different colors," she said. "Then I'll leave them out to shrink when they're done. How hard can it be?"

"I think this is why Mrs. Effgee takes care of our clothes herself," Hiro mumbled. Cass continued to stir the tub, not having heard a thing.

He sat down at the table as Mochi came into the kitchen, his nose wrinkling from the smell. Hiro popped some waffles in the toaster and scrolled through his phone as he waited for them to defrost. The cat's ears perked up when they heard the click of the mail slot downstairs.

"Get the mail, Hiro," said Aunt Cass from her place by the sink.

"Get the mail, drone," Hiro spoke into his smartwatch.

A tiny drone buzzed down from his room, hovered in the air, flew smack dab into the wall and lay twitching on the floor. Hiro shrugged. "Well, it was worth a shot."

Hiro hurried down the steps to fetch the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Aunt Sarah, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and – a letter for Hiro?

Hiro picked it up and stared at it, his eyebrows furrowing. No one ever wrote to Hiro, unless it was a warning from the library about late books or threatening notes in his locker demanding he do someone's science project for them. Yet here it was, a letter addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Hamada

The Attic Lab, The Apartment Above The Lucky Cat Café

14 Montgomery Avenue

San Fransokyo, California

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of white creamy paper, and the address was written in purple ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, Hiro saw a red wax seal: one big circle with two smaller ones on either side.

"What's the holdup, Hiro?" Aunt Cass called from upstairs. "You win any sweepstakes?"

Hiro went back up, still staring at his letter. He handed Aunt Cass the bill and postcard, and slowly began to open the envelope.

Aunt Cass opened the bill, looked at it for a second, tossed it over her shoulder, and then flipped over the postcard.

"Oh, Sarah's unwell, ate a funny whelk…whatcha got there, Hiro?"

Hiro was at the point of unfolding the letter when Cass plucked it from his hands. "Hey!" he shouted. "That's mine!"

Cass shook the letter open with one hand and glanced at it. "If this is another overdue notice from the library, you're gonna have to start paying for it out of your allow –"

Her face went deathly pale as her eyes scanned the letter down to the bottom. Her free hand fell on her heart.

Hiro gulped. "Um…Aunt Cass?"

She didn't respond. What was in that letter that could turn her into a statue?

Slowly and subtly, Hiro reached for the letter, but Cass chose that moment to snap out of her horrified trance. "My God…Hiro! Go to your room, now."

"But it's my letter," Hiro whined. "Give it back!"

"Hiro, please go to your room," Cass repeated.

Hiro didn't move.

"Let me read my letter and then I'll –"

"HIRO! ROOM! NOW!" Aunt Cass roared, making Hiro flinch. She had never shouted at him like that before. He backed away slowly and then made for the stairs.

When Hiro reached the first stair that put him out of sight from the view of the kitchen, he stepped on it a few times, each foot dropping quieter than the last, and then stopped. It was a trick he used many times before: with Aunt Cass thinking he was all the way up in his room, he was free to listen in on things happening downstairs when he knew he shouldn't be. At the moment, Cass was pacing the floor frantically muttering to herself. "Can't believe it…not again…no…Tomeo…"

Hiro had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle his gasp. That was the first time in ages he heard her speak his father's name aloud. His aunt continued.

"Watching, they're watching the house…watching the café too, probably…I knew this would happen someday…but why now? I raised him right, raised him normal…he hasn't got a drop of that…no, just keep the course. Ignore it, and they'll ignore him and move on. I'm not going to lose him like I lost Tomeo…"

Hiro could hear Cass choke up on saying his name again – then a cabinet opening and the crinkle of a plastic bag being torn, followed by the crunch of fried snacks.

Hiro didn't see Cass again until that evening when she took a break from work to visit him in his room. She brought him a freshly made anpan with a side of gummy bears. Mochi followed her in, and they both stood next to him in awkward silence. Hiro turned in his seat to face her.

"Where's my letter?" he demanded. "Who's writing to me?"

"It's…it's nothing to worry about," said Cass, almost as if she were afraid to speak. "Just another one of those scams, like those fake calls about the power bills; you know how they happen. I got rid of it."

"Hmph. For an everyday scam, you seemed awfully upset about it," said Hiro disbelievingly.

"I just don't want anyone taking advantage of my special little guy." Cass put down the plate and knelt at his level, stroking his head. She sighed.

"Hiro, for ten years I've done the best I could to raise you. Have I been perfect? No. Do I know anything about children? No. Should I have picked up a book on parenting? Probably…where was I going with this, I had a point…"

"…You think I'm mature enough to make my own choices and read my own mail?" Hiro continued hopefully.

"What I mean is, everything I'm trying to do is because I love you, and I want you to be safe and happy. Yeah, I may act a little…"

"Stressed? Uptight? Aggressive? Overbearing?"

"Firm," she insisted, "but it's only because I want the best for you."

"I get it," Hiro moaned, "but how do you know what's best for me? What if, maybe once, I decide what's best for me?"

"I just…I just try, all right? And you're still a child. An incredibly gifted child, but still a child."

Cass headed for the door.

"Think about what I said, okay?"

Hiro didn't watch his aunt leave the room. He listened to her walk down to the kitchen, grab something from the fridge, and then leave for the café.

He sighed and absentmindedly stroked Mochi. Not too long ago he had been looking forward to the SFIT Showcase. Now he was beginning to wish he had skipped it entirely.

Breakfast the next morning was rather quiet. Cass focused heavily on preparing a quality meal and hummed more audibly with the radio than usual; Hiro got the impression that she was trying to avoid speaking with him. It was bad enough not having anyone to talk to at school, but it felt worse at home considering it was just the two of them. He wished he had opened that stupid letter downstairs.

Just as Cass was serving him eggs and bacon, the mail flap clicked.

"I'LL GET IT!" Cass shouted louder than she intended. She and Hiro leaped to the stairs at the same time, squishing each other at the threshold. The two struggled to fit through the frame before the other – but Aunt Cass pulled through first.

She raced down the stairs and tripped over her own feet three-quarters of the way down. Hiro dived from his spot halfway down and landed on top of her. They scrambled for the letter. Cass grabbed it first but Hiro got his hands around the free half. They pulled, and twisted, and pulled, and twisted – and ripped it right in half.

"Go to your room," Cass wheezed. "Hiro, please…just go."

Hiro sat on the edge of his bed flexing his fingers. Someone knew he hadn't received the first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time Hiro would make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.

His phone alarm went off at 4:30 the next morning. Hiro quickly turned it off and dressed silently. He couldn't wake Aunt Cass. He stole downstairs, making sure to skip the steps that creaked louder than the others, and didn't turn on any of the lights.

He was going to wait for the mail carrier and get the letter first. His heart hammered as he reached the landing of the front door –

"AAAAAAGH! SON OF A –"

Hiro leaped into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squishy on the doormat – something alive!

He turned on his phone's flashlight and found the thing he stepped on was Aunt Cass. She had been lying on the floor wrapped up in a quilt, clearly making sure Hiro wouldn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. She shouted at Hiro for a good ten minutes and told him to go make her some coffee.

By the time Hiro got back, the mail had arrived – right into Aunt Cass' lap. Hiro could see three letters addressed to him in purple ink.

"I want – " he began, but Aunt Cass tore them to pieces and shoved them through the slot right before his eyes.

Had either of them looked outside afterward, they would have seen the ripped-up pieces of the letters float into the sky one by one, carried away by an invisible breeze.

Aunt Cass called one of the assistant managers of the café and told them she couldn't come in that day. She stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," she explained to Mochi, who was waiting to be fed, "if they can't deliver them, they'll just give up."

Mochi cocked his head as if to say, "I don't think that's going to work." Or perhaps he meant, "Give up this idle foolishness and feed me now."

"Oh, you don't know these people like I do, Mochi. I'm not going to let them take my boy away from me," she continued as she tried to knock a nail in with her copy of Chef Gusteau's cookbook.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Hiro. As they couldn't go through the mail slot, they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and even forced through the small window in the bathroom.

Aunt Cass stayed home again. After burning the letters in the oven, she found a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the door so the only way out of the apartment was the fire escape. She hummed "It's A Small World" as she worked, and jumped at small noises, scaring Mochi whenever he passed by.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Hiro found their way inside the apartment, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two-dozen eggs Aunt Cass had bought at the supermarket. She shredded them in the food processor while she made furious phone calls to the post office and dairy, eager to find someone to complain to.

"Who the heck wants to talk to me this badly?" Hiro asked Mochi, who simply meowed in response.

On Sunday morning, Cass flopped down at the breakfast table looking tired and ill, but extremely satisfied. "I love Sundays," she said to herself with a vacant smile. "Best day of the week, Sunday. Why is that, Hiro? Go on. Guess."

Hiro poured his aunt some tea and tried not to get too close as he handed her the mug. "…Because there's no mail on Sundays, Aunt Cass?" he asked with a hopefully placating grin.

"Right on the nosey, Hiro." Aunt Cass took a long sip of tea and let out a relaxed sigh. "No mail on Sundays. Not a single letter today. Not one!"

She took another drink, and then slammed the mug on the table, making Hiro jump. "I feel like going down to the café. Come on boy, there are customers waiting!" Cass leapt to her feet, grabbed the keys off the counter, and climbed out the window onto the fire escape. Hiro reluctantly followed suit.

Cass had unlocked the café door by the time Hiro reached her. He went inside and began sweeping the floor. Cass stayed in the doorway looking out at the street, her smile growing broader. "Good morning, world!" she cried out. "You're not getting the best of Cass Hamada! I've won! I –"

Something hit her right in the middle of her forehead and landed at her feet with a small thump. Cass looked down.

It was a letter.

The café began to rumble. Hiro, who was no slouch when it came to earthquake safety, dropped the broom and skedaddled to the doorframe between the kitchen and serving area. He heard the refrigerator and oven doors burst open. Hiro turned his head and his eyes popped open as a wave of letters poured out of them, flooding the kitchen.

Aunt Cass screamed. She was hit face first with a torrent of envelopes flying at her from out of nowhere. Soon the whole café was filled with letters on the floor and in the air. Hiro jumped up trying to grab one, but as soon as he did, he slipped on several beneath him and lost his grasp. He scooped up as many as could, but Aunt Cass regained control of his senses and grabbed him by the arm. "OUT! OUT!"

Ignoring the curious onlookers, Cass stormed outside, broke down the apartment door, and dragged Hiro upstairs. "That's it. Pack your things, Hiro. Clothes only. I want you downstairs in five minutes ready to leave. NO arguments!"

Cass looked so frazzled that Hiro didn't dare argue. He stuffed a pair of pajamas, a t-shirt and a laptop into his extra-large backpack. He could hear Aunt Cass on the phone with one of the assistant managers of the café: "Oh yeah, everything's fine, just gotta go out of town for a bit…I'll let you know…burn those letters for me, will you? And hold on to the ashes…"

Hiro couldn't find his hoodie in his closet. He supposed Aunt Cass unthinkingly hung it up in the hallway closet by the stairs. He came down and looked inside it; his hoodie was thrown haphazardly on the shoe rack on the floor. Hiro grabbed it, but the hood snagged on one of the wire loops and took the rack – and a pile of sheets underneath – with it. He winced at the clatter of falling shoes and clanging metal against wood. Hiro looked over his shoulder – Aunt Cass had her back to him; she was still on the phone and didn't notice the noise. He knelt down to clean up the mess when he saw it – half-hidden in the sheets was a red metallic box.

Hiro pulled away the sheets and took a closer look. The box resembled a squished little man in red armor; it had a white oblong face with a thin black line stretching across it, and two bumps on either side resembling arms. On its chest was a small white circle. Hiro had no idea why, but there was something familiar about this strange box. But where did it come from? And why was it stuffed in the bottom of the closet?

He wanted to investigate further but he could hear Cass wrapping up her phone call. Hiro opened his backpack, flattened his things as much as he could, and tipped the box inside; it was heavier than it looked, and he strained under the weight. Then he quickly zipped up the bag, threw everything else back in the closet and slammed the door just as Cass hung up the phone. When she turned around, Hiro was on his feet whistling nonchalantly. "Good, you're ready to go," she said, none the wiser.

In ten minutes, they were speeding down the highway. Hiro held Mochi's carrying case as the cat cried mournfully inside. The boy was too afraid to ask where they were going and tried to content himself by watching the world zip past his window.

They drove. And they drove. Every now and then, Cass would take a sharp turn and go in the other direction. "Shake 'em off, shake 'em off," she muttered whenever she did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. As evening fell, Cass finally stopped outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a city. She woke the elderly clerk, who was sleeping at his desk in the lobby. "Excuse me, we'd like to check in for the night, please." The clerk, whose eyes were barely visible behind his thick glasses, seemed quite surprised. "Really?" He rang the bell on the desk and shouted, "Somebody's checking in!"

At once, all the doors on the upper level burst open and the unusual-looking guests inside repeated, "Somebody's checking in?!" One of them started playing a banjo and the clerk burst into song –

"Oh there's no fire in the fireplace,

There's no carpet on the floor –"

"Thank you, we'll show ourselves up!" Cass shouted over him as she threw her credit card at him, grabbed a key and pulled Hiro past a group of rats in bellhop uniforms into the elevator.

The room had one damp, musty bed that folded into the wall, and was lit with a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Cass climbed into bed and closed her eyes. "Hiro, could you get the light, please?"

The bulb fell to the floor and shattered.

"Thank you."

Cass snored away, but Hiro stayed awake. He sat on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars, and wondered…

They ate soggy cornflakes with orange juice for breakfast the next day with a saucer of milk for Mochi. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to the table.

"Excuse me, is one of you Mr. Hiro Hamada? I got about a hundred of these letters waitin' for you at the front desk."

He held up a familiar envelope, this time with the purple ink address reading:

Mr. H. Hamada

The Windowsill

Room 13A

The Happiness Hotel

Hiro made a grab for the letter but Cass bolted up from her chair and said, "I'll take them." She followed the man from the dining room.

Hiro pouted and stirred the remaining cornflakes with his spoon. His sour mood caught the attention of the janitor, a brown fuzzy fellow in a plaid shirt who was cleaning the next table over. "Don't worry, kid," he said comfortingly. "One day someone will send you a hundred letters, and you'll know how wonderful it feels to get them."

The only thing that stopped Hiro from dumping his cereal bowl on the janitor's head was the sight of Mochi hungrily chasing the bellhops.

"Hey Aunt Cass, here's a wild idea…maybe we could go home now?" Hiro suggested timidly. Hours passed since they left the hotel, and he still had no idea where Cass was taking him. She had already driven right into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook her head, got back in, and driven off again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, at the top of a cliff near a waterfall, and on the coastline.

Hiro didn't want to say it, but he was fairly convinced his aunt had gone off the deep end.

Cass parked by a marshy bog as daylight gave way to dull gray. She locked him and Mochi in the car, and walked off.

Rain began pattering against the windows. Hiro shivered and rubbed his arms. He took his phone from his pocket; the front screen showed that it was Monday 6:30 PM, and that the weather would soon take a turn for the worse.

Monday. That reminded Hiro of something. If it was Monday…then tomorrow, Tuesday, June 21st, was the first day of summer, the longest day of the year – and Hiro's eleventh birthday.

Aunt Cass usually went overboard for Hiro's birthday: trips to museums, zoos, theme parks and the like, followed by a big dinner of all his favorite foods at the café. But unless this was all part of an elaborate setup for some big surprise, he didn't think spending his birthday freezing in the middle of nowhere was what she had in mind this year. Admittedly, Hiro himself had forgotten about the big day in the excitement of all those letters in the past week. Still, it wasn't every day you turned eleven.

Cass returned, and she was smiling.

"Found the perfect place! Come on, everyone out!"

Aunt Cass pointed to deep in the bog. "Storm forecast for tonight!" she said gleefully, clapping her hands together. "And this kind woman has agreed to rent us her houseboat in the bayou."

A woman with a shock of red hair and a garish amount of makeup grinned wickedly and waved at a distance. An old motorboat bobbed up and down in the iron-gray water next to her.

"I've already got us some rations," said Aunt Cass, "so all aboard!"

It was a long, freezing trip. Icy spray and rain crept down their necks, a chilly wind whipped their faces, and the boat's guiding light did little to cut through the fog. After what seemed like hours, they reached a massive, dilapidated riverboat. It was the most dismal place Hiro had ever seen, and he'd seen news coverage of Staten Island. Aunt Cass, sliding around the slippery deck, led the way inside.

The inside was horrible; it smelled of mildew, the wind whistled through the gaps in the walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty.

Aunt Cass' rations turned out to be a bag of chips each, some bananas, and two water bottles. She tried to start a fire but the peels barely smoldered.

"Could do with a few of those letters now, huh, Hiro?" She joked cheerfully.

Cass was in a much better mood. Obviously, she thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them in a storm to deliver mail. Hiro privately agreed though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. A fierce wind rattled the filthy windows and flashes of lightning illuminated the makeshift living room. There were some bedrooms on the upper deck, but both Hiro and Aunt Cass were a bit too little rattled by the storm and overall creepiness of the boat to sleep alone. Instead, Aunt Cass took some blankets and pillows and made up a bed for Hiro on the moth-eaten sofa while she hunkered down on the rug. Despite being cooped up all day, Mochi didn't wander off to explore; he planted himself by his boy's feet, purring intensely as his fur stood on end.

The storm grew fiercer as the night wore on. Hiro couldn't sleep. He turned over and over, trying and failing to make himself more comfortable. The rolls of thunder drowned out Cass' snores and the grumbles of his empty stomach. He was cold, he was hungry, he had no wi-fi, and he was miserable. His phone told him that he'd be eleven years old in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if Cass remembered, and what the mysterious letter writer was doing now.

Five minutes to go. Hiro heard something creak outside. He wondered if the boat was going to sink or get struck by lightning first. Maybe it would catch fire if the latter happened. If it did, at least he'd be warmer.

Four minutes to go. Maybe the Lucky Cat Café and the apartment would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd manage to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the water from the bayou or the rain, slapping so hard on the boat like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that thumping noise? Was the deck collapsing?

One minute to go and he'd be one year older. Thirty seconds…twenty…he didn't think he'd get any birthday notifications on his phone, no connection, after all, but it was worth a shot…ten…nine…maybe he'd wake up Aunt Cass just to mess with her...three…two…one…

BOOM.

The whole boat shuddered and Hiro jumped upright, staring at the double doors.

A muffled voice outside called, "Hello? Anyone in there?"

Someone was knocking to come in.

Fun Fact: I originally thought of making Madame Medusa and Snoops from The Rescuers Hiro's guardians since they easily fit the Dursley mold - however, I already knew Hiro had a guardian, and a much more loving one at that in Aunt Cass. I thought it would be fascinating to see how she deals with the truth about Hiro and all this sudden burst of magic without turning her into an oppressive abusive monster, because frankly I've found the Durselys to be much less funny and more awful as I've gotten older. Cass' overprotectiveness and over-the-top actions stem from some long-buried trauma and a very different kind of prejudice that we'll be diving head-first into soon. As for Medusa, I decided to give her a cameo here and move the setting of the next chapter from a hut on a rock in the middle of nowhere to her boat in Devil's Bayou to further tie the story into classic animated Disney.

Next Chapter: The Wrecker and the Robot