Hiro stood alone in front of the large grey stone. No umbrella shielded his head from the falling rain. This couldn't be his brother's. It didn't remind him of Tadashi despite that it said outright on the front that it belonged to his brother. It was too cold. Tadashi was perhaps the warmest person he knew. Hiro would never forget his brother; a man who had lived his life well.

A life that wasn't nearly long enough.

Hiro had cried enough in the past weeks, and it seemed that the sky was doing it for him. He had visited the grave with Baymax the week before, the robot even scanning the sight to prove to himself that it was Tadashi. When the healthcare robot had informed Hiro that there was no body, Hiro had to gently explain that the body hadn't been recovered. There had been nothing to find.

The report came back from the firemen and police that some charred fabric from Tadashi's sweater was the only remnant of Hiro's beloved older brother found. The same went for Professor Callaghan. A tear slid down Hiro's cheek, mingling with the rain droplets that collected and dripped down his face and off his chin and nose. He still missed him.

Hiro decided that it was time to go visit Baymax, so he slowly backed away from the memorial stone that showcased his brother's full name, date of birth, and date of death. He couldn't think of it like that or risk losing his composure and having a breakdown at his brother's grave in front of everyone else there. It didn't stop him from voicing his thoughts to his brother at last though.

"You promised you would always be here. Why Tadashi? Why? Why would you do something so stupid?" he asked the emotionless grave. He knew the answer in his heart. Tadashi was simply too good a person for his own good. He always wanted to help others. Baymax was spawn of that want. He wanted to help others like he never failed to help Hiro. But why at the risk of his own life? Had he thought that perhaps running into a burning building to save someone's life without having proper training was less dangerous than it sounded? His last words to Hiro were "Someone has to do something." Now Hiro wished that someone had done something. Just not Tadashi.

He hadn't deserved to die.

He finally turned and tore his eyes from the grave, walking away and back down the street in the general direction of home, where Baymax awaited him.

My head hurts

It was Tadashi's first thought as darkness of sleep dissipated until his eyes opened and light filled his sight. Immediately, something was wrong. He could see out of his left eye, but it wouldn't open all the way. However, his right eye was fine. He blinked until his vision focused and then tried to move. His arms and legs hurt beyond belief, but the pain in his legs cut off at his knees to become dull, and the same was true for his right arm.

How had all of this happened?

That's right. I was in the SFIT building when it caught fire, he thought, the last memory set returning to him. But he didn't remember everything. He raised his arms to look at them. One seared with pain all the way up to his wrist, but the other did not. When he caught sight of them, he nearly threw up the contents of his stomach. His entire right arm was metal! However, it worked and could move smoothly like normal fingers. Being an engineer, he had to admire the workings of the arm. It was most likely sensory wired, something that was merely a theory to most people.

He tried to sit up, but then he felt something jam down on his head and he heard the sound of a machine whirring to life and then, everything was gone in a flash, and then darkness.

When the young man woke up again, he didn't remember anything. Didn't remember waking up ever before in his life. Didn't remember being half-burned alive trying to save someone. He didn't even remember his name. Again, he lifted his hands to his vision, but didn't bother to be surprised, though he knew they weren't supposed to be there; metal and wires replacing flesh and blood. It wasn't right, but what did he know about the world around him.

"Well, well, well, I thought you'd never wake up," a voice said from nearby. Immediately, he swiveled his head around, though his vision was not totally clear in one eye, his other locked onto the target behind him.

Target?

Why was that the first thing that entered his mind when he looked at who spoke? It turned out to be an older man. He wore a sweater vest over a dirty dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up and it looked like he had done some messy work involving sharp objects, ash, dirt, and…blood. The young man felt his innards coil up sickeningly at the thought that it could be his blood. He didn't respond to the man's sentence.

"I'm sure you have many questions. Beginning with who I am and who you are," the man stated, walking further into the younger man's field of vision, "my name is Callaghan, and your name is Yokai. You worked for me prior to your…memory loss."

So that's my name. Yokai... he thought to himself. "How did I get here?" he questioned Callaghan. "It's a long story, so I'll give you the abridged version since I only what I saw when I found you. You were in a school fire and caught under two ceiling support beams, but you also burned your entire left side except for your neck, and your legs and right arms were crushed. You're fortunate that I found you," he explained.

"You said that I used to work for you. I suppose that it still stands?" the young man asked. Callaghan nodded. "Right you are my good boy," he said, something sinister adding to his voice.

"Why? Can't I be freed if I can't even remember ever serving you before?" he inquired, suspicion lacing his tone. "Oh, believe me, I didn't make you serve me, Yokai, you came willingly. I trained you to become what you are, and I can train you again, with your…upgrades," Callaghan replied, smiling slightly more darkly for a man as kind looking as him.

"Explain what upgrades exactly, Callaghan," Yokai responded. Callaghan smiled wider. "You don't seem to have noticed your legs," he said, gesturing his head toward the sheet that covered Yokai's legs. The younger man lifted himself further off the pillow, propping himself up with his elbows at first before sitting himself up with his chest muscles. His body burned and he clenched his teeth in pain.

He whipped the white blanket off of his legs to reveal that he was wearing a pair of rolled up dirty jeans, but beyond that were both his legs. Both feet were replaced with some kind of metal shoe and leg that extended up to the knee. A shudder went through him as he recalled intense pain shooting from what would have been stubs.

"How?" he asked Callaghan, turning to face the older man. He merely chuckled. "Before, I was a robotics professor, more than capable of giving you a new set of legs that are now wired into your nervous system. Your arm as well. Your new friends helped with the medical parts since I don't have the expertise for that kind of thing. You were wrapped up in bandages for nearly a month before your burns had healed completely. You don't want to know what happened to your legs," Callaghan told him.

Yokai swallowed. He could probably figure out what had happened to his legs and arm and he didn't want to think about it. "So when can I walk again?" he asked, hoping to get moving as soon as possible. Callaghan's face brightened up and he said, "Immediately! Everything should be all healed over by now!"

Yokai was a little put off about his excitement, but he himself was just as eager to get moving. He shifted again, swinging his legs until they hung from the side of the bed which turned out to be nothing more than two different sized mattresses stacked unevenly on top of each other. The weight of the heavy metal prosthetics attached to his knees felt strange and unusable. Not to mention the pain that the sudden weight brought on. He would be fortunate if he could stand without losing his balance.

"They need to be tweaked. You were an engineer before the fire, one of the best I might add, so you should be able to work on them yourself," Callaghan assumed. Yokai gripped the side of the bed with both hands, unsure and nervous. If the hand was sensory wired, he wouldn't be able to bend it like he had. His other hand, its back scarred and pink, still functioned properly.

Great, I'm starting to think like a robot, he thought ruefully. Slowly, he slid off the bed and let his feet rest on the floor, the pain in his knees subsiding now that the metal wasn't hanging as dead weight from them. He tentatively put weight on his legs, feeling the prosthetics adjust to the new position and holding the weight. He lifted the rest of his body off the bed and tried to get his bearings. He weaved around a little, trying to get used to not being able to feel anything in his legs. He took a step backwards, instinctively trying to support himself. The leg reacted to the movement and adapted yet again to support his weight. He stepped forward, the legs lagged slightly and a mechanical whine suggested that they were a little slow for walking. He would have to improve that.

Getting ahead of the legs, he stumbled and nearly fell forward. However, Callaghan caught him and guided him back to the bed. "Yes, they do seem to need tweaking. I'll be back in a while with the necessary tools, Yokai. You can rest while I'm gone. That's an order," he said, turning and walking back into the shadows.

"Yes Master Callaghan."