Hate by Latiwings.
Some days, Hiro hates the world.
He hates every single fiber in this Earth, every figurative existence, every theory, every breathing creature, every life. He closes his eyes and he can feel the loathing in his veins, poison bubbling beneath his mind.
It stretches, this hatred, this quiet bubble, but the origin is clear, the night where everything started.
And so Hiro hates.
He hates his enemies, his rivals, his antagonists.
He hates his microbots, because without them, then Professor Callaghan wouldn't feel the need to start a fire.
He hates Professor Callaghan, because if he wasn't in the flames Tadashi wouldn't have run into the fire.
He hates Krei, because without his stupid project, Professor Callaghan wouldn't need to seek revenge.
Hiro pauses. He does not discriminate in this loathing.
He hates his friends.
He hates Gogo, for no matter how fast she is she was not there to save Tadashi.
He hates Honey, for all her knowledge in chemistry and the ability subdue fire with her chemicals she did not do a thing that night.
He hates Wasabi, for not being there to stop Tadashi with his strength.
He hates Fred, for he asks Hiro to create a fire breathing machine when the flames have already done too much.
He hates Baymax, for surviving and coming back from a kind of death while Tadashi does not.
Yet, they did nothing wrong, Hiro knows, but it had always been easier to hate.
It is easier to hate the fire, for being so destructive. It's a comfort to hate that night for happening at all.
It's only right to hate himself, because he could have done so much more, could have stopped him, could have not create, could have screamed, could have run after him, could havecouldhavecouldhave-
Hiro hates himself.
Because Tadashi is love, love and all things good and Tadashi could never have hated anyone and Hiro is never that good, never that selfless, never that angelic and thus he hates. He will carry all this bitterness, this darkness because he is not like Tadashi and he hates himself for it.
A voice whispers in his ear; he is forgetting someone to hate.
For all his beautiful actions, it cannot cover the fact that Tadashi had abandoned him to run into the fire and by right, Hiro should hate him for that, hate him for all the pain that he cause, hate him for every tear, every broken heart.
He pauses.
No.
Some days, Hiro hates the world.
More so than ever, he hates himself.
But he could never hate Tadashi.
A/N : Dedicated to my grand-aunt, who just passed away. I promised to visit her. I couldn't. I'm so sorry.
Experimental writing style. You have been warned. Also, I'm beginning to think I left whatever I have of my humor in my 'Here Comes After' universe, pffft, cause I've been only churning out sad fics in this.