Hi guys! This is kind of a filler one shot until I can finish my current one. I'm sorry it's been so long! I've been really busy with school this week. In this one, Tadashi is 13 and Hiro is 9. Please review and request! You're the best!

—BH6ORBUST

The bell rings a few feet above my head, startling me. I practically jump out of my seat and gather my things.

My sixth period is English—the one class I actually struggle to get a grade in. I'm dyslexic, which makes it really difficult to work my way through the novels we read in class. The letters all jumble around on the page. I can do it, but it takes me a long time and holds me back on assignments.

Mr. Thomas, my English teacher, always sits me at the front of the room so I can see things better. He's the nicest teacher I've ever had and possibly the only one who is willing to excuse me from assignments I don't have time for.

The bell and Mr. Thomas shaking my shoulders wakes me up at the end of the period. My head is on my desk and a string of drool runs from my mouth to my book.

How embarrassing.

"Hey, Tadashi," Mr. Thomas says. "C'mon. You got more classes, you idiot."

"For an English teacher, that was really bad grammar," I mumble.

"Go to class, bonehead."

"Fine, fine." I stand up and pick up my stuff. "It's lunch next anyway."

I leave the classroom and head toward the cafeteria. High schools have several buildings, so I have to walk past the portables and through a very cold, very snowy courtyard to get there.

I stop when I catch sight of something under one of the portables' steps. No one puts stuff there. I suppose it could be a package they were trying to keep dry, but it's almost equally snowy under there.

I crouch down by the steps and gasp into the scarf wrapped around my mouth.

"Hiro!"

I grab his shoulders and start to pull him out, but Hiro lets out a small sob and I stop. He's covered in blood. I don't know what's wrong with him, but I don't want to risk moving him again until I know it's not going to hurt him.

"Hiro!" I gasp. "Are you okay? What happened? Are you bleeding? Yes, you're definitely bleeding. Where are you hurt? Who did this to you? When? Are you freezing? Do you have hypothermia? Do you want to go to the hospital…?"

I realize that Hiro's not responding and trail off. "Hiro?"

"'M okay," Hiro mumbles. "Ow."

"What happened? Where does it hurt?"

"My ribs," he says, with a hint of the baby voice he only outgrew a year or two ago.

"Where else? Oh, sparks, you have a black eye. And your nose is bleeding. I'm taking you to the hospital, okay, Hiro?"

"No…" Hiro whimpers as I ease him out from under the steps but doesn't protest. "I don't need…I'm fine…"

He's hyperventilating, I realize. His breathing is uneven and shaky. Something's wrong.

"Hiro," I say, "how do your ribs feel?"

Hiro only whimpers in response. I take that as an indicator of pain and gently pick him up.

With Hiro in my arms, I push through the lunchtime crowd, trying to keep Hiro out of danger, because each time someone jostles me, it jars Hiro's ribs and he whimpers in pain. I swear I will personally make sure whoever did this is expelled.

Finally we reach the office and I practically kick open the door, my arms full with Hiro. The secretary looks up in surprise, her eyes wide, then says, "Oh, it's you."

"Right," I growl. "Just letting you know I'll miss seventh and eighth period. So will Hiro. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm getting an ambulance for my baby brother."

"Not a baby," Hiro mumbles. "High schooler."

"You're a baby. Anyway…"

I set Hiro down on a chair and he curls into a ball, still whimpering in pain. Like a baby. But I decide to save the snarkiness for when Hiro's not in a ton of pain.

I pull out my phone and dial 911. Hiro's not in life-threatening danger, but I need to get him treatment as soon as possible.

"Hello?" comes the voice of a dispatcher over the phone.

"Hi. I'm at San Fransokyo High School and my little brother is really hurt. I found him in the courtyard. I think he's been in a fight or something and he's in a lot of pain. I don't have a way to get him to a hospital so—"

"Slow down, son," the dispatcher says. "You drive?"

"No. I'm only thirteen."

I can hear the hesitation. "And you're at high school…?"

"Yes."

I know he wants to ask more questions, but he doesn't. "All right. We'll send over an ambulance."

I hear a click as he hangs up.

The ambulance arrives ten minutes later and I gently scoop Hiro up. His forehead is still bleeding, a dark red stain spreading across the cushion of the chair he was laying on. I carry him outside and the paramedics load him into an ambulance.

I ride with them to the hospital, trying to stop the bleeding with my scarf. He's going to need stitches. Poor little guy.

When we get to the hospital, they instruct me to wait in the lobby while they patch Hiro up. I protest, insisting he'll want me to be there, but they threaten to call security and I calm down. I'd rather at least be in the same building as Hiro.

The doctors stitch Hiro's forehead up and patch up his various cuts and bruises. He looks like roadkill. They gave him some painkillers, but I don't think they've set in yet, because he still looks like he's holding back tears every time he moves.

"Hiro!" I pull him into a hug before remembering his ribs are injured. "Are you okay?"

"Mm" is his only response. I ruffle his hair gently, trying to avoid the stitches.

"Let's get back to school," I tell him. "I have some kids I need to get expelled."

I march into the principal's office without knocking and stand in front of his desk, arms crossed. He looks up and raises an eyebrow.

"Who do you want me to expel now, Mr. Hamada?"

"Whoever did this to my little brother," I growl.

"Did what, exactly?"

"Beat him up and put him in the hospital."

He waves a hand as if dismissing the problem. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"He has four broken ribs and stitches in his forehead."

"See? Minor injuries. Move along."

I feel my hands shaking, curling into fists. My little brother has been beaten half to death and he doesn't care. He's the only one who can do anything and he doesn't care.

I slam my hands onto the desk, my face much closer to his than it ever should be. He looks up in surprise.

"Someone hurt my little brother and it is your job to stop them," I hiss. "You're supposed to take care of us, not sit here lazing away while Hiro was nearly beaten to death and driven to the hospital by emergency freaking services. Your job is to protect him especially. Someone did that to him. So find them, and make sure they never come near my baby brother again."

The principal stares at me, wide-eyed. I don't think he expected that kind of outburst from a thirteen-year-old.

I turn around and storm out of the office. I'm done. Hiro is never coming back here if I can help it.

I decide to take the bus back to the hospital, where Aunt Cass is working out all the medical bills for Hiro. Everything I said back there were Aunt Cass's words too. I just passed along the message. Which I agreed with wholeheartedly, by the way.

Aunt Cass is ranting in the lobby when I get there. Hiro is curled up in a chair next to her, looking tired. I wonder how long she's been doing this.

"And NEITHER of you is going to that school again!" Aunt Cass rages. "I swear, if those little #&*$% aren't expelled, so help me, I am SUING THAT SCHOOL for ALL THEY'RE WORTH!"

Hiro meets my gaze, wide-eyed. I've only heard Aunt Cass swear a few times before. She must be really upset.

She swears a few more times and I end up covering Hiro's ears after a little bit. Even I don't know some of those words.

Finally Aunt Cass stops her diatribe and picks up her purse. "Come on, boys. I'm going to write a very angry email."

Aunt Cass is transferring us to the Gifted and Talented Academy of San Fransokyo. It'll be full of nerds like us, so hopefully they'll leave Hiro alone. They might appreciate his brains and age rather than giving him a hard time about it.

Even if I turn out to be wrong, I'm never letting anyone hurt my baby brother again.

I still feel out of place when I get to first period at the new school. Being at a nerd school doesn't stop me from being younger than everyone else.

I slide into my seat and try not to seem conspicuous. But it doesn't work very well.

"Hey, are you new? I've never seen you bef…"

I turn my head to see a tall, thin girl with long blonde hair. She trails off as soon as she sees my face.

"Hey," I say softly. "I transferred from San Fransokyo High."

She doesn't seem to be able to talk.

"I'm Tadashi. Tadashi Hamada."

"Evangeline Rivera," she says shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Cute name." Oh my gosh. Did I really just say that? "I mean…I always liked that name. Not like…oh, this is…"

"Awkward?" A blush rises in her cheeks. "Not that you're awkward. I'm awkward. You're gorgeous. I mean…"

I think my face is on fire.

"Evangeline," I say, testing the name out. It doesn't quite suit her.

"Oh, most people don't call me by my real name," she says, still blushing. "You can call me Honey Lemon."