The derelict mall stood alone in the darkness, the soft glow of its bright neon signs flickering ever so gently, forming shadows which danced about rocks and growths.
The mall was designed by a famous architect in a minimalist or "neo-hipster" way, as Tomago liked to put it. He had seen enough pictures from Aiko to be able to discern buildings of a similar layout.
Before their relationship soured, Tomago had always wanted to talk to the family of three about how it would all be, dreaming of how life after college. She once brought up something about becoming a stunt driver, a profession which immediately met with Aiko's strong disapproval.
Tadashi wondered if she had ever imagined herself plastered to a wall in an abandoned mall, listening for infected with every step. It was a crazy situation after all, so unbelievable. But crazy never mattered because they thought it wasn't their problem; or rather, they never thought it would become their problem. Everyone was so cooped up with their own dreams that they forgot the real threat lurking outside.
They always did.
Tadashi and Tomago tried to keep to empty spaces as much as possible, avoiding physical contact with any object in their pathways. Finally they reached the stairwell leading to the basement. A burning scent hit Tadashi and corpses littered the ground, the greenish muck still seeping out of their bloated bodies. Fresh kills. His grip on his machete tightened.
Tomago turned to Tadashi. "Can you see anyone?" she whispered.
He shook his head. "No sign."
He signaled Tomago to flank the left while he continued on the right side. Some infected may have been taken out, but the original threat was still there. They had to stay vigilant regardless.
"She's there," Tomago called out, bending down beside a fallen girl. The unmistakable sign of the Firefly was tattooed on her neck, large enough to be seen when exposed, but small enough to be concealed with a shift of the collar. She beckoned Tadashi to her. "I think she's injured."
Their contact lay silently curled up in a fetal position next to a locker on the ground, her face constipated with pain as though she were suffering from a temporary cramp. But Tadashi saw it the second the image registered in his mind.
Death.
There was a particular quality about dead people. Minute details that may have slipped past the untrained eye, seemingly insignificant on their own. But all the signs were laid out plainly. The loose grip of the gun, relaxed arch of the body… Tadashi gently turned her wrist out: the blunt and blood stained mark of a bite. Infected.
He moved the girl's head over and dapples of red and brown surrounded a hollow in her head, forming a gruesome flaxen halo.
"Shot herself," said Tadashi, but more to himself. "She was only a child."
He stood up and walked back towards the stairwell, disgust and anger rising from within his gut. He had to get out of here quick. He turned around and strode towards the long stretch of lockers against the wall, kicking one with all the ferocity in his legs. It was the same goddamned, fist-clenching, head tearing ferocity he used to bash up those bloody liars, the ones that claimed to be the world's salvation. Both the FEDRA and fireflies were feeding innocent citizens with a truckload of crap from their comfortable hidey-holes, promising to pull them back from the brink, only to abandon them when the shit really got tough.
They were the same, all of them. Disgusting piglets who only wanted to save their own hide.
Damn it all, the bullshit.
It was only when he almost killed a little political bastard with one of his inventions that he realized the rage was making him an aggressive maniac which could potentially kill him one day if he wasn't careful.
But he relinquished these moments where he let his rage take over, the days where the frustration that made his blood boil and vessels throb with grim exhilaration.
That insatiable hunger and thirst for revenge against the ones who started it all: infected.
It was for this monster that they kept him alive, despite his insubordination and cold demeanor. It was what kept him alive and it was what people lusted after. His weaponry and robotics were all designed to dish out the most malevolent punishments: lobotomisers, atom-structure degenerators that would literally melt the living lights out of those fungal creatures.
He knew they loved this, and he would use that against them as long as he could. In fact, it would allow him to get away with almost anything.
The grip on his machete tightened and he slowly strode towards Tomago. One stab was all it took and he would be done.
Tomago was not completely blind herself either, and realised what Tadashi was thinking of the moment he began advancing.
But Tomago simply watched him passively. "She sacrificed herself for this, you know."
Tadashi could feel air forcibly gushing out of his apertures as he strained himself to take longer breaths, count to ten and do just everything he knew about calming himself down.
He could not lose it now- he would lose his intel and effectively breach any form of agreement between him and the apex if he let the rage consume him. A complete ending to this unfinished business was required, but he wanted a minimal loss of innocent lives. And then there was that fact she was half of Aiko.
Aiko. Bile rose in his throat with the thought of what he almost did.
He was as good as a murderer now.
He eventually turned around to face Tomago, who was used to waiting out his sudden outbursts. He needed them, in her opinion. "Finished?"
"Yes." He breathed out. Easy. "The contact is cut. The deal is off. Let's go."
"No it isn't."
Tadashi halted. He swore he could feel the heat burning in his ears and palm as Tomago casually tossed a key into his hand.
"Plan B."
Locker 38 was at the end of the row, hidden nicely behind a few dustbins. Whatever was in there probably wouldn't get out on its own, unless it miraculously sprouted legs.
"You have a lot of explaining to do, Tomago." He spat the last three syllables out like it was poison in his mouth.
"I don't think I owe you anything, Hamada." She let out a laugh devoid of any emotion. "After all that you did to me."
As much as Tadashi hated to admit, it unnerved him and to some extent, saddened, him that they had reached such a state. When did endearing Gogo become sardonic Tomago?
He twisted the plastic key into the keyhole of 38 and with a mechanical click, the metal door swung open, revealing a dark, black suitcase.
Tadashi heaved it out of the locker, careful not to let it drop. It was heavier than he would admit and he had to struggle for a few moments before he managed to get the thing out of the locker. What the hell was in it anyway? He unzipped it, removing the hard cover of the suitcase.
He slowly stood up as the cover fell open, running his hands through his hair. He paced around the room before turning to Tomago, her face still is stoic as ever.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?"
Inside the suitcase was his personal project: Baymax, a machine whose rays were capable of regenerating protein growth in humans. But he had been so caught up chauffeuring between runs and the apex that he had no time to revisit it. And when Tadashi rebooted the machine, he was only met with the words "SYSTEM FAILURE."
It had hit him like a truck.
The chip was gone.
The chip that controlled all the intricacies of his invention was missing.
His eyes fell on the girl properly for the first time. She looked so ordinary. Normal. Not some scheming, manipulative bitch.
He wanted to kick himself for being so naïve. He should have seen it coming.
"You did know about all of this did you?" He snarled.
"That girl was supposed to take you to the client." She backed away as he gained proximity towards her. "But they wanted leverage in case something happened… to her."
He was now dangerously close and Tomago felt slightly threatened by his overwhelming presence. But she continued holding her stare defiantly, no, she would not show any sign of weakness. Time was running out.
"They were afraid you would run—"
She flinched as his fist connected with the wall behind her. A sickening shatter was followed by a wet sensation on her shoulder, and soon her upper garment was stained with red as the man clenched his fist tighter, grinding his wound into the dent formed on the wall.
"Get off me." She commanded, though Tadashi could tell she was visibly shaken. The rims of her eyes were reddening, but she still bore her steely gaze.
It was black iris against brown as they silently challenged each other, both not willing to back down. An unfamiliar and dangerous pang of guilt suddenly coursed through Tadashi. When was the last time we even spoke decently to each other? He thought. Leiko was Aiko's sister. He was supposed to protect her.
But here they were, the betrayed and the indignant. He shoved her away roughly, willing the sickening softness of kinship to be rid of his mind.
Kinship would be the downfall of you, Tadashi bloody Hamada. He'd let his guard down by letting her access his dorm. For shit's sake, how could he have gone over the fact that she graduated from the exact same college as he did?
He looked down at her disgustedly.
"You had better spit my chip out or I swear I will rip your damned vocal chords out personally."
The anger of the wrongly accused surged through Tomago. How dare he look at her as if she were the pile of shit? If there were anyone more deserving of the title it would be he. But Tomago was not about to play the sudden matyr and spring him with the rationale behind the whole fiasco.
No, she was not.
She was going to watch him shrivel in the humiliation when he realised the importance of the business. Tomago obscurely entertained the idea of him perhaps even, sunken in shame, would do her the favour and rid himself from the world.
She hated him with every fibre in her body. Tomago knew he tried to make things up, but he left out the fact that she did not want it. She wanted him gone. If picking the healing scar was what it took, she would do it. She would scab it and rip it off over and over.
She smiled at him in a grotesquely saccharine manner.
"You can't."
Before she could react, his hand was pinned against her windpipe, causing her to choke and gag.
"You have NO idea how much damage Baymax can deal." His voice had dropped a notch.
"I... C…Can't…Unless…" She kicked at his injured spot, sending him reeling backwards with a painful gasp. She coughed and hacked violently. "Y…You have to meet the client. But there's more."
Tadashi bit back harsh words. Obviously it took someone with great knowledge to know that was not all.
"Do whatever they tell you to do. No questions."
Tadashi fought back the urge to kill her right there and then. But now that the Fireflies had the chip with them, he was powerless. He had to get it back. If Baymax were complete, Tadashi would have ensured it was on lockdown security. But the fact that Baymax was only a high-functioning prototype was what tied him down completely to the Fireflies.
Because prototypes were still prototypes.
And prototypes were about as stable as malfunctioning robots.
He had to take his bloody hat off to Leiko Miyazaki.
A/N: Baymax is featured as a machine in the story, as this is more of an exploration of Tadashi's relationship with the other characters. Thank you for the patience and also thank you to the reviewers/favourites/follows! It's really heartening to know that there are people interested and reading my story. Please do continue to R&R!