Tomadashi, bitches!

I don't own BH6

"Hiro, we want to help. But we're just... us." Honey Lemon consoled her friend, ever caring. Hiro stepped up to the couch, eyes gleaming.

"No, we can be so much more." he beamed.

Of course, Wasabi had to place the tools on the very top shelf. Gogo swore he had been doing this on purpose, placing everything a foot above her reach. Because she didn't already know that she was nearest to 5 foot, while her friends were all nearing 6. Yeah, she was kind of short, but she didn't care.

Not at all.

"Gogo?" the girl in question tensed in shock and stumbled backwards. She probably would have hit the ground if it weren't for a pair of arm wrapping around her torso. "What are you doing?" Tadashi's tone was now filled with amusement. The adrenaline junkie quickly composed herself, pulling herself out of his grasp. She brushed herself off, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

"Nothing." she muttered, a little too quickly. The taller boy traced his eyes from the step stool to the wrench at the top of the shelf, the corner of his lips turning up in amusement.

"Something funny, Hamada?" Gogo huffed, slightly embarrassed. She paused, staring at him expectantly. "Do you need something?" she snapped. Tadashi, leaned back on the wall, crossing his arms in a relaxed pose.

"No, I just thought I'd stop by. But don't stop on my account. Go on." he smirked, knowing fully well that she'd be much to embarrassed to do so. They locked eyes and had a silent staring contest for a full minute, before Gogo turned away.

"Are you really just going to stand there?" she sighed.

"Yep."

"Get out of my face."

"Not until you tell me what you were doing."

"You know what I was doing."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"Oh really?"

"Don't you have a little brother to stalk?"

"It can wait."

"You're going to stand there and watch me?"

"Yep."

"You have no life."

"I'm fine with that."

A moment of pregnant silence filled the air. Then Gogo muttered something inaudible. Tadashi cocked an ear, grinning playfully.

"Sorry, what was that."

She repeated herself, a little louder this time.

"Didn't catch that."

"I can't reach the shelf, okay?" she finally snapped. Tadashi let out a hearty laugh, before striding past his friend. Gogo glared at him, eyes boring into his back.

"What are you-"

"Is this what you needed?" he grinned, casually handing her a socket wrench. Gogo took it hesitantly, not meeting his eyes. Tadashi waved, turning back at the doorpost.

"See you later. I've got a little brother to stalk." he laughed, mocking her earlier words. Gogo simply nodded, turning to her bike. After a moment, she straightened.

"Tadashi?" she murmured quietly, turning back to where he stood. The boy in question tilted his head back when he heard his name being called.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

. . . .

The two walked in silence, only a small blue umbrella shared between the two of them. There was no conversation between them, but the silence wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, safe. A soothing kind of quiet, save for the occasional 'pop' of strawberry gum. Or it should have been. Rain pattered against the concrete, creating a steady rhythm. But it couldn't compare to the heavy drumming of Tadashi's heartbeat. Gogo usually felt at ease in the silence. She was never one for words, more of a Clint Eastwood type character. But she couldn't shake the intense sensation that crept up her throat and turned her breaths quicker and shallower.

"Gogo?" his words felt shaky and uncertain. He couldn't say he didn't notice the gap between himself and his friend. Or lack there of.

"Hmm?" her voice was more stable, mainly due to years of mastering her stoic nature. Tadashi felt his heartbeat quicken. It wasn't a drumming anymore. It was a heavy pounding. Five thousand tons of pressure building in his chest, growing stronger and stronger. Finally, he turned to look at her, breath catching in his throat.

"You have a piece of gum on your lip." he noted quietly, unconsciously leaning down closer to her level. Gogo frowned, running her thumb over her bottom lip. Tadashi brushed her hand away gently.

"Let me get it." he insisted. "Look up at me." Gogo complied tilting her head up. Tadashi ran two fingers over the ridges above her lips, before swooping down and gently pressing his own lips to hers. He leaned back, carefully inspecting her reaction. For a few moments, Gogo said nothing. And then,

"Did you get it?" she demanded, furrowing her eyebrows. Tadashi couldn't help but let out a chuckle. He closed the gap between them, wrapping an arm around her.

"Yeah, I got it."

. . . .

For a few weeks after their kiss, nothing happened. Then one day, the two were relaxed on Honey Lemon's couch, when Gogo sat up and turned to him.

"Where are we?" she pursed her lips. Tadashi cocked an eyebrow, puzzled.

"We're at Honey Lemon's place?" Gogo rolled her eyes, frustrated.

"No I mean. Where does this leave us. I mean, you can't just kiss me and then pretend like nothing happened." she grumbled, staring at him accusingly. Tadashi blushed slightly, cheeks tinging red.

"That seems like something you would do." he countered. There was no reply from the woman. For a moment, Tadashi was worried he had offended her in someway. He reached out to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way-"

"This is different." Gogo interrupted him. Her voice lowered, sounding uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable. "You're important to me." she continued. "I don't want to mess this up. Here, what we have now." the two fell into a silence once again, as they so often did.

"Where do you want us to be?"

. . . .

For two weeks, Gogo didn't cry. Because that's just the kind of person that she was. It would be acceptable for Honey Lemon to burst out in tears during the funeral reception, for Wasabi to wipe away a few stray tears, for Fred to wipe his running nose when he thought no one was looking. And Hiro, especially Hiro. No one could blame him if he would spend hours in his room, curled up on Tadashi's old bed, crying himself to sleep. That's the kind of people they were. It was up to Gogo to console her crying best friend, to rub Wasabi's back in quiet encouragement, to secretly hand Fred a pack of tissues, to stop by Aunt Cass' bakery to take over Tadashi's shift, to silently pull Hiro into a comforting hug. Because Tadashi Hamada was her best friend, and he never wanted to see his friends cry. And so it was up to Gogo to stop the flow of tears that fell from her friend's eyes.

When Gogo finally broke, it wasn't a few rogue tears that caught on her lips or disappeared down her neckline. This was full out body-racking sobs that never seemed to stop. A dam blocking all the hurt and confusion that finally cracked.

And when she cried, it was up to her friends to help her this time. It was up to Honey Lemon to wipe away her stained mascara. It was up to Wasabi to rub her back, telling her that everything would be alright. It was up to Fred to help her over to a nearby couch and close all the doors, because he knows that she doesn't want anyone else to see. It was up to Aunt Cass to bring her a cup of steaming tea, the same kind she would drink over lunch with Tadashi. And it was up to Hiro to hold her hand, offering sweet condolences. She wasn't alone. She was never alone.

But she still had one question.

Where does this leave us now?

"Tadashi Hamada was our best friend. We're in."

No. Tadashi Hamada was so much more than that.