The next morning, no light streams through the windows, probably due to the smoke of the various fires around the city. Everything is perfectly silent, so unlike the San Fransokyo I know, and the air is still and smoky, even inside.

I roll over in bed and drag a hand through my mess of tangled, wild hair, wincing at the aches in pretty much every muscle I possess. The worst pain is in my ribs, but it's not much more than a dull ache. The goose egg on my head hurts, too, though the pain has lessened considerably since yesterday.

Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I turn it on to find that it's nearly eleven in the morning. Crap—I overslept. I should've set an alarm or something.

I sit up and start to climb out of bed, but I stop when I realize that several people are sleeping on the floor—and they definitely weren't there before. Megan is still passed out in Tadashi's bed, and my brother is asleep next to mine with nothing but a pillow and blanket. Also on the floor are Momakase, Chief Cruz, and none other than Dr. Armstrong.

Guessing that Baymax, who is standing in his charging station, has brought everyone in, I get out of bed and tiptoe between the sleeping bodies, trying to get to the bathroom without stepping on anyone. Who put them all here? Why couldn't it have been in the living room?

When I step into the bathroom, I discover that the glass in the tiny window is cracked and that a few chunks of plaster have fallen from the ceiling, but thankfully, the café hasn't suffered any major damage—there are a few broken windows downstairs, and dust is everywhere, but that's the extent of it.

I pass the mirror and wince at my reflection—my hair is a rat's nest, and my face is still streaked with soot and blood. The Band-Aid on my cheek is pretty much the only clean spot on my face, and I'm still wearing my ripped, dirty t-shirt, which only makes things worse. To top it all off, I have dark circles under my eyes, but that might just be because I'm tired.

Deciding that I desperately need a shower, I retrieve my hoodie, cargos, and another shirt from my room, then turn on the water and spend at least an hour in there. By the time I'm done, I feel a lot better—and everyone else is banging on the door, yelling at me to let them in.

I towel my hair dry and step out of the bathroom, allowing Tadashi to use it. He dashes inside with the speed of someone running from an explosion, locking the door behind him with a sigh of relief.

"Breakfast!" Aunt Cass calls, coming up the stairs with several trays of donuts, muffins, and fruit. "Sorry it's late—I slept in!"

I dart forward and grab two of the trays, balancing them on my arms. I've had a lot of practice with serving, since I do it all the time in the café. Tadashi is a little better at the actual talking-to-people part, but I'm the top waiter.

"Thanks, Hiro," Aunt Cass says warmly, bending down and kissing me on the forehead. "How'd you sleep, baby?"

"Really good, actually," I admit, going over to my desk and setting the trays down. A glimpse of bright gold catches my eye through the blinds, and for a moment, I wonder if the sun is coming up. But when I pull the blinds up, I discover that it's a small fire, burning in the broken street. The sky is dark gray, clouded with smoke, and it almost looks like nighttime. As I watch, a firefighter hurries down the street with an extinguisher and sprays the fire, causing it to go out. He slowly walks away from it, his head bowed. Poor firefighters—they must be exhausted. I wish we could help, but it's not safe to go outside.

I pick up a maple donut from the tray and flop down on my bed, wincing at the twinge of pain in my ribs. As I do, Megan, the last one awake, sits up, rubbing her eyes with her free hand—the other is restricted with a sling. She looks around the room and asks, "Why the frick are all these people here?"

"Baymax went out and got them all last night," Tadashi tells her. "He was up the whole night rescuing civilians—and don't worry, Hiro, we were able to reprogram the Buddy Guardians. I just made a bunch of copies of Baymax's chip, and Chief Cruz brought them all here. I think everyone is safe now."

"That's good," I mumble, swallowing a bite of donut. "But…does anyone know how many people…you know…didn't make it?"

"A lot," Tadashi says softly. "About seven hundred."

Seven hundred.

Seven hundred people are dead because we didn't stop Obake.

"This is my fault," I breathe as the rest of the team comes up the stairs, apparently having slept in the living room. "I should've stopped Obake. I should've done more."

"There was nothing anyone else could have done," Momakase says from the corner. "I fought him as well, and even I was not able to stop him. You did manage to deplete his arsenal of robots."

"It was a valiant effort!" Mini-Max declares, standing on Fred's shoulder. "Evil now knows not to tangle with justice!"

"And at least we made it!" Fred adds. "Now we can stop Obake again! I'm thinking a night attack, under cover of darkness—"

"We can't do anything until we've fixed our gear," Wasabi puts in. "And some of us shouldn't be going anywhere until everything's healed."

I suddenly remember that Fred and GoGo were unconscious when we brought them in, and I don't know anything about Momakase, Chief Cruz, and Dr. Armstrong. "Oh yeah—is everyone okay? Is anyone hurt, like, really bad?"

"I don't think so," Honey says. "Wasabi's ankle is broken, and so are GoGo's ribs, but that's all I know about."

"Megan's hurt," Chief Cruz tells me. "We need to protect her."

"I'm fine, Dad!" Megan protests.

"Your arm is broken in five places!"

"Whatever!"

I have to stifle a laugh. Only Megan would power through a catastrophe with five fractures and what I think is twenty or so stitches. She's undoubtedly the worst injured, but there's no holding her back if she wants to help save the city.

"I set the bones," Tadashi tells Chief Cruz. "She should be fine."

"And Tadashi did an excellent job of setting them," Dr. Armstrong adds. "I hardly needed to treat anyone—he's becoming an excellent doctor."

"I had Baymax's help," Tadashi mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "But thanks."

"So now we have three doctors," Chief Cruz observes. "That's good. I want Megan to get the best care possible—and, well, the rest of you, too, but—"

"We understand," Honey tells him.

"Should I start fixing our gear?" I ask. "I can go downstairs right now and get to work on it—hey, do any of the rest of you want suits? I could probably come up with something cool."

"Um, yes," Megan says enthusiastically. "And it needs to be red. Or black. Or black and red. One of those. Oh, and if there are any spare graphene blades lying around, that'd be super awesome."

"I can work on that," I assure her. "I'll just go downstairs and—"

"You're not going anywhere before you've rested," Tadashi says sternly. "At least wait until your ribs are healed."

"But I just slept for the whole night—"

"And I haven't even given you Advil." Tadashi's face softens. "Hiro, I know you want to help. I get that—I wanna help too. But you can't help anyone if you're hurting yourself. Just let me give you some ibuprofen, and once it kicks in, you can start working on the suits. Sound good?"

I sigh, knowing Tadashi is probably right. "Okay."

My brother smiles, sinking into his rolling chair and propelling himself across the room, grabbing a couple of ibuprofen capsules out of a bottle and handing them to me. I grab a water bottle out of my minifridge and down the pills, then flop back into my bed. Tadashi pushes off his desk and rolls over to Megan's bed, where he hands her Advil as well.

"Does anyone else want ibuprofen?" Tadashi asks. Wasabi and Fred both raise their hands, and Tadashi hands them a few capsules, then just decides to distribute it to everyone. GoGo and Momakase adamantly refuse, but Tadashi's pleading and whining eventually win them over, and they grudgingly accept the medicine.

"We need to make a plan," Wasabi declares, sitting on the beanbag in the corner with his injured ankle propped up on a stack of textbooks—which are Tadashi's, of course. I don't like to study for anything.

GoGo nods. "We're gonna have to upgrade if we want to take San Fransokyo back. Plan—not really necessary."

"We've gotta find Obake first," I decide. "I can try to track him down, but it might take a while. Does anyone else know how to work a 3D printer? We can reprint our suits."

"I can do it!" Fred shouts, jumping up and down with his hand in the air. His hand immediately flies to his head, which Tadashi has wrapped bandages around. "Ow—still in pain—but whatever! We've gotta stop Obake!"

"Have you ever worked with a 3D printer, Fred?" I ask timidly. "Because I kind of need someone experienced to do it."

"He has not!" Mini-Max proclaims. "But I am programmed to be able to do so!"

"Maybe you and Baymax can work on the suits, then," I tell the tiny robot. "I just need you to reprint the ultra armor designs—I can add upgrades after we're done. We're gonna need them if we want to stop Obake."

"What can I do?" Fred pleads. "I hafta do something!"

"You can—"

"Rest," Dr. Armstrong says, cutting me off. "All of you need to—most of us have concussions, and you guys shouldn't be overexerting yourselves. I think you should all rest for today and then start on things tomorrow."

"He's right," Tadashi agrees, and Baymax nods his approval. "Hiro, I know I said you could start working—you can, but you've still gotta wait for the Advil to work. I don't think printing is really overexerting yourself, so that should be okay. Just take it easy, everyone, okay? No battle training or anything like that."

"You of all people should know that you can't hold me back," GoGo snaps at Tadashi. "We've known each other for years—you know I can't just sit back and do nothing."

Tadashi backs away slightly, saying, "I know you wanna help, GoGo, but I can't let you go out there or do battle training with broken ribs—"

"She's right, Tadashi," Honey says, her eyes wide and pleading. "You can't protect us from our duty."

"But I can't let you guys get hurt!" Tadashi protests. "How do you think I'd feel if one of you got seriously hurt—or worse—trying to defend the city before you're totally healed? And we still don't even have a real plan!"

"We do need to make a plan before we do anything else," Wasabi agrees, deflecting GoGo's angry protest. "Any ideas?"

"I'll go get more snacks," Aunt Cass declares, heading downstairs with an empty tray (which I think Fred has polished off). I turn just in time to see Dr. Armstrong disappearing after her—he's probably going to the bathroom or something, but I can't stop a twinge of trepidation from passing through my chest.

He'd better not be following her.

Aren't our lives complicated enough already?

—AUNT CASS—

Cass places several more donuts on the tray, wondering how Fred managed to eat all five in about ten minutes. Oh well—she'll just take these up to the others so they can eat.

She hoists the tray up and starts to head back toward the stairs, where she very nearly runs into Lionel—no, Dr. Armstrong. Cass is pretty sure she's supposed to maintain a mostly professional relationship with her nephews' pediatrician.

"C—Ms. Hamada," Dr. Armstrong—Lionel?—stammers, steadying the tray as Cass nearly drops it. "S-sorry. I—I just wanted to talk to you, if that's okay?"

"Of course," Cass replies, setting the tray on the counter and trying to ignore the way her heart flutters. He wants to talk to her! He with his messy red hair and huge blue eyes and adorable, welcoming demeanor.

"I haven't thanked you yet," Dr. Armstrong says, a little sheepishly. "For letting me stay here. When—when the hospital collapsed, I thought we were done for. But everyone who was there is safe now, and it's all thanks to you that I'm here. Honestly, Ms. Hamada, the whole city seems to owe your family our lives."

"Oh, it's mostly Hiro," Cass murmurs. "But thank you."

Then a thought occurs to her—Tadashi told her that, apart from himself, Dr. Armstrong seemed to be the only one who knew anything about Big Hero 6—including the fact that Hiro was the leader.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cass whispers. "You knew Hiro was the leader of Big Hero 6—why didn't you tell me and Tadashi? We're his family—we had a right to know."

"Patient confidentiality," Dr. Armstrong tells her apologetically. "But even if I could have told you, I wouldn't have."

Cass opens her mouth to protest, but Dr. Armstrong continues. "I know you can take care of yourself—I just didn't want you to get hurt. Knowing who Hiro is would have put both you and Tadashi in danger, and as Tadashi's pediatrician, I couldn't do that to him, even if I was allowed to. Of course, he figured it out himself—"

"You have no medical obligation to protect me," Cass argues, cutting him off. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"

Dr. Armstrong stares at her, his huge blue eyes wide and pleading. "Please don't be mad, Ms. Hamada. I just—I care about you too much to let you be in any kind of danger."

"We're all in danger now," Cass murmurs, her anger with him evaporating like mist under the sun. "It doesn't make much difference. Sometimes—sometimes I'm not sure that anything I do will make a difference."

She's baring her soul to this young doctor, for reasons she doesn't understand. But his eyes are deep blue pools, beckoning to her, and Cass feels the undeniable need to cast herself into the calm, quiet water forever.

"Oh, Cass," Dr. Armstrong—Lionel—whispers. "You make all the difference."

And her heart is overwhelmed by a wave of love, and she is sinking into the soft blue depths, and then her hand is on Lionel's cheek, and he is gently grasping her wrist. For a moment, Cass thinks he might pull away, but he doesn't, instead leaning forward slightly, his eyes full of hope.

She grabs Lionel's collar and pulls him closer, pressing her lips to his, and he does not retreat—he wraps his arms around Cass, his fiery hair tickling her forehead as he, too, sinks into the kiss.

The world dissolves into a blur of light and water and fire, and Cass never wants to let Lionel go. This earnest young doctor with the burning passion and the gentle spirit has become her closest friend, her confidant, her rock.

And, as Cass holds Lionel in her embrace, she finally realizes that he has also become the man she loves.

She lets the adrenaline course through her as Lionel lifts her nearly off her feet—he's rather short, only five foot eight, but Cass is shorter. She used to be self-conscious of it, but now she couldn't care less. Cass lets go of Lionel's collar and wraps her arms around his shoulders, whispering, "Thank you."

A gasp comes from the stairs, and Cass and Lionel spring apart. Cass turns to see Fred staring at them, his mouth wide open. After a few seconds, Fred darts back upstairs. Cass grabs the tray off the counter and follows him, but before she leaves, she turns back, giving Lionel a faint smile.

He smiles—no, beams—back, his face radiant. His cheeks are bright pink, clashing with his hair, but it makes him even more perfectly imperfect as he gives Cass a tiny wave that makes her heart flutter all over again.

Cass takes the tray upstairs to the waiting vigilantes, knowing that the danger is still imminent, that the threats against Big Hero 6 still stand, but completely unable to keep the smile from her face.

—TADASHI—

"It's bad!" Fred yells, grabbing my shoulders and shaking them rather violently. "Really, really bad!"

He releases me, and I stumble back, slightly dazed. "Seriously, Fred, what's wrong? What is it?"

"Your aunt! She—she—"

For a moment, I think he's gonna tell me that Aunt Cass has been kidnapped by Obake or shot through the heart or all manner of terrible things. But what Fred does say is nothing like that—and possibly even worse.

"She's making out with Dr. Armstrong downstairs!" Fred wails, collapsing on Hiro's bed and flinging his arm over his eyes dramatically. Hiro's eyes go wide, and he scrambles off the bed. His hand flies to his forehead and he stops in his tracks, grimacing.

"Advil not kicked in yet?" I ask sympathetically, going over to Hiro and gently helping him sit back down.

"Nope," Hiro mumbles, keeping his voice low as Aunt Cass walks into the room with another tray. "But I'm a lot more concerned about the fact that our aunt is making out with our pediatrician! When did this happen? I didn't know it was serious!"

"Neither did I," I tell him, trying to stay calm. "But who are we to know about her personal life? It's not like we could've done anything about it, and besides, I can't think of anyone else who deserves Aunt Cass. Dr. Armstrong is a great guy."

"But—but—she can't get married!" Hiro splutters, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "What'd we even call him? Uncle Armstrong?"

"Probably Uncle Lionel," I surmise, watching Aunt Cass leave again out of the corner of my eye. "Or Uncle Leo."

"We can't have an uncle—and Aunt Cass can't have a husband!" Hiro groans, flopping down and burying his face in his pillow, apparently oblivious to the fact that people are staring at all the family drama. "We're not ready!"

"Hiro," I say softly, kneeling down by my baby brother's bed. "You mean you're not ready."

Hiro lifts his head, his eyes wide, and mumbles, "Yeah."

"It's okay if you're not," I whisper. "I don't even know if I'm ready. But if Aunt Cass wants to be with Dr. Armstrong, that's her choice. She hasn't really had a lot of opportunity to fall in love, since she's been taking care of us for the past eleven years. She's given us so much—the least we can do for her is support her in whatever she decides."

Hiro sighs. "You're right. But I still think we should have a family discussion or something if they're really gonna get married."

"Of course, buddy," I reassure him. "Aunt Cass wouldn't marry him with no warning. We'll talk about it with her sometime. You wanna go start working on the suits? I'm sure you can come up with some awesome upgrades."

"Okay," Hiro agrees, "but they'd better not still be kissing down there."

He gets out of bed, more slowly this time, and heads downstairs, disappearing into the shadows of the stairwell. I leave him to his work and go to get dressed, as I'm still in my pajamas.

Grabbing clean clothes out of my dresser, I go into the bathroom and lock the door behind me, stopping—as I always do—to look in the mirror, to see the scars on my face and, when I pull off my shirt, my torso. The skin where I got burned is red and slightly raised, and on my face, it extends across my whole left cheek and jaw, going down to most of the side of my neck and up to my temple. On my torso, the largest burn is on my ribs, wrapping around to my back, and my shoulder and abdomen are also burned, though not as severely.

I tell myself that it doesn't even look that bad, that I'm at least lucky to be alive. But I can't stop thinking about everything that fire stole from me—my vision, though temporarily, my confidence, the face that girl after girl has praised. I don't think I've ever been vain, but I can't say I don't miss the way my face looked before the fire. Now it's scarred, ruined—I'll never look the same again. Will that scare people? What if Honey decides to break up with me because of the burns? How can I ever be the same?

I can't, and I know it. Everyone knows it. I have been forever changed.

Changing my plans slightly, I climb into the shower, turning the water on so no one can hear me cry. I'm supposed to be the strong one—the man of the house, the protector, the guardian. And if I'm not strong, I'm letting Hiro and Aunt Cass down. I can't let them see everything I'm holding back—I can't let them know how scared I am.

But here, there is no one to see me, so I lean against the wall of the shower and cry, letting the tears flow down my ruined cheek as if they are a healing balm that will restore me to what I used to be—model student, golden child, MVP. But that's all gone now, and there is no taking it back.

So I'm gonna have to be strong anyway.

—OBAKE—

"Are you certain this was a good idea, Bob?" Granville asks, her countenance expressionless, unruffled by the wind blowing fiercely over the highest point in San Fransokyo. "The city has been destroyed, as has your base. And we still do not know the whereabouts of Big Hero 6. Has this brought about anything but destruction?"

"Calm yourself, my dear professor," Obake says silkily, staring out at the burning, ruined city. The fires glow brightly, staining the low-hanging clouds a dull orange. "We shall prevail."

"I have no doubt we will," Granville reassures him. "I simply wonder if the deaths of Big Hero 6 are truly needed."

"You must cut off your connection to the boy," Isabela cuts in, stepping up next to Obake. "He will be our downfall if we continue to spare him. We must terminate him as soon as possible."

"Do not fear," Obake tells his girlfriend. "I have vowed to kill him. Perhaps he will not return to fight us for a short while."

"But he will," Granville points out. "Hiro is too passionate to stay out of this conflict, Bob. Much like you, in fact—he is determined to protect his city at all costs. He and the rest of Big Hero 6 were able to deplete much of our arsenal before we brought out the reinforcements."

"Are we even certain that they are still alive?" Isabela asks. "The explosion was immense—perhaps it has destroyed them."

"Unfortunately, I do not believe that is the case," Obake sighs. "Hiro, though injured, was very much alive when I found him. As the rest of the vigilantes were in the vicinity, we can assume that the blast has not taken their lives—though we can also hope that it has incapacitated them enough that we will be able to secure our grip on the city."

"Where will we construct our base?" Granville asks, perhaps wanting to turn the subject of the conversation away from Big Hero 6. Obake knows that she still harbors secret affection for the vigilantes, especially Hiro, her former protégé. Obake doesn't really blame Granville—she still cares about him, after all these years. It's only natural that she should want to protect Hiro. But if that gets in the way of his mission, he will have to terminate both of them.

"I would suggest that we use SFIT," Obake replies in answer to Granville's question. "It will be the center of knowledge and learning, the heart of our new utopia."

"Will that not be obvious?" Isabela asks, putting a hand on Obake's shoulder. "Perhaps we should choose a more inconspicuous location."

"I do not care about being subtle anymore, Isabela," Obake says softly. "Now is the time for all to know that science has triumphed over ignorance, and peace has beaten war into the dust."

"This is not peace, Bob," Granville says sharply. "Big Hero 6 will fight us."

"I agree, my dear professor," Obake soothes. "It is not peace while they live. We must terminate them as soon as possible, or we will never have peace."

"But you are destroying so much potential," Granville snaps.

"You mean I am destroying Hiro's potential."

"All of them are brilliant minds, and perhaps they could help us, Bob," Granville pleads. "I do not wish to destroy innocent souls, especially ones that could help us."

Obake sighs. "I do not wish to destroy innocent souls either, Professor."

"And yet you have—"

Obake cuts her off, finishing his sentence. "If it is not necessary. Sometimes the sacrifice of a few is needed for the good of many. This is how it is with Big Hero 6, and with those who have died in our takeover. If we are to guide the world into a better future, we must be willing to make sacrifices. Surely you understand that, Professor Granville? After all, you made me the man I am today."

He lets his face glow, just a little bit, and Granville sighs. "You are correct, Bob. But I ask you to promise me that Hiro—that the boy's death will be swift. I—I do not want him to suffer."

"Of course, Professor. I will make it quick, I promise you that."

"Who is to kill him?" Isabela asks, stepping closer to Obake. "I can be the assassin if needed."

"You may carry out the deaths," Obake tells her. "Kill Hiro first—perhaps then the rest of the vigilantes will surrender, and we will not have to slay the others. If possible, see if Momakase will return to our side. She was my best undercover operative, and I do wish she would come into my employment again."

"Kill the boy, attempt to recruit Momakase," Isabela repeats. "Anything else?"

Obake looks his girlfriend in the eyes. "Are you prepared to kill your daughter?"

Isabela doesn't even blink. "She is of no worth to me. I will kill her and Diego if needed—they have been nothing but a hindrance to us. Shall I begin searching for the vigilantes now?"

"I would suggest searching for someone else," Obake tells her. "Someone the vigilantes care about. Since the Hamadas, the doctor, and your daughter seem to have gone undercover with Big Hero 6, that leaves us with only one option. It will be much easier to kidnap him and draw the vigilantes out of their hiding place than to locate and storm it."

"Who shall I find, my love?" Isabela asks, putting a hand on Obake's chest.

Obake smiles, letting his face light up again. "Heathcliff. The butler—or so it seems. He is, in fact, a secret agent—and a good one. He will be difficult to capture, but I have every confidence that you can do it. Big Hero 6 relies on him for many things, and I have no doubt that they will risk everything for him. Go, and once you have him, I will alert Big Hero 6 to our proposal. Once they appear, you will kill the boy, as well as your daughter and ex-husband if necessary. Our plan cannot fail, Isabela. The future of the entire earth is counting on it."

"I will not fail, mi amor," Isabela murmurs, pressing her lips to Obake's. "I will see you at sunrise."

And she leaps away into the darkness, falling toward the burning, windy streets. Obake watches her go, her slight figure leaping from building to building, just as Momakase used to do. If he can get her back, he will.

"Are you certain about this, Bob?" Granville asks. "Perhaps this could be completed without killing Hiro."

Obake turns to face her, and the glow of his face shines so brightly that the professor backs away slightly.

"Of course I am certain," Obake whispers. "Hiro is the only thing standing between me and my dream. Once he is gone, the rest of Big Hero 6 will be easy to defeat. And before you suggest attempting to turn him to our cause—I have tried. There is no way, Professor. He is too set on defeating me to ever do such a thing. We must terminate him."

He turns, staring out over the broken, crumbling, burning skyline. "But I cannot pretend I will not regret it."