It normally didn't take this long for Fred to make a food run. He had prided himself on being the fastest one in the group, aside from Gogo, when it came to errands. Mostly when food was involved. His word proved true on many occasions. Coffee? Four minutes. Chinese? Fifteen minutes at most. Pizza? His all time record was an impressive nine minutes and fifty nine seconds. However, he was now succeeding at losing his position as the preferred errand boy. He had promised he'd be back with dinner around seven, and it was now fifteen minutes to eight. Needless to say, the four remaining human members of the Big Hero 6 were not impressed. They had taken temporary refuge in Hiro's private laboratory, with the promise of a study break from mid-terms and foot-long burritos, all on Fred, obviously.

Honey Lemon checked the time on her phone again, only to see that the time hadn't changed the last time she checked. She glanced up from her place on the couch, finding to see that her friends had hardly even moved. Wasabi was going through his flashcards on the other side of the room, organizing the terms of what he knew and didn't knew in even piles. Gogo hadn't moved from her position on the other side of the couch, half-absorbed in "The History of Aquabots". Hiro hadn't looked away from Baymax's skeleton since Fred had left. Sauntering pieces of carbon fiber together wearing magnifying goggles for nearly three straight hours couldn't be good for the boy's eyes, the group had encouraged the teenager to take a break on multiple occasions, but he dismissed them with a wave of his hand and an inattentive grunt.

Honey Lemon was just about to admit defeat and pull out her bioengineering textbook, when she heard the door creep open. Fred was walking in backwards, his arms preoccupied with his jacket. Before the door had a chance to close, Gogo shot up, textbook landing on the floor with a thud. She stomped across the room, more than prepared to give Fred a piece of her mind, and her growling stomach.

"There you are! What took you so long?!"

Fred turned his head around, swinging around a bag of burritos in the process. His eyes visibly widened at the sight of Gogo more infuriated than usual. "Gogo, hyme rearry horry habout thish. Eye goht a bit distrucked hon th-"

Gogo tore the bag out of his mouth, passing the much late dinner over to Wasabi, who began to pull out long, thick pieces of foil, and neatly arranging them on a nearby counter. Honey Lemon made herself busy by opening the little containers of condiments, pleased to see that Fred remembered to order extra guacamole.

"Talk. Now." Fred opened his mouth, ready to explain his unusual tardiness, but a sharp cry inside his jacket interrupted his moment. Gogo cocked an eyebrow, suddenly more interested of the source of the noise. "And why did your jacket just squeak?" The noise also tore Honey Lemon and Wasabi's attention away from the food, and made their way over to Fred, working on their burritos.

Slowly, Fred began to unravel the tangled mess. "Yeah, this may be a better explanation." He lifted up the hood of the jacket, revealing a small black and white puppy. The animal squinted at the sudden exposure to the fluorescent lighting, and began to tremble at Honey Lemon's squeals.

"Oh my goodness!" She handed off her dinner to Gogo, then carefully scooped up the creature, holding him up by the crooks of his front legs. "¿No estás sólo el más lindo? Sí es usted! Sí es usted!"

Gogo snorted at Honey Lemon, who continued cooing at the puppy in her mother tongue. The puppy cocked his head side to side every time her voice changed pitch, earning more terms of Spanish endearment. "But seriously," she elbowed Fred in the side, "what happened?"

"I got the burritos," Fred started, "And I was on my way back, and I saw him in the alleyway. It took me forever to get him to come to me. I think someone might've just left him there. I mean, he looks pretty healthy."

Gogo looked over at the dog, who was now being cradled like a baby and having his chest scratched, happily thumping his leg. Honey Lemon continued cuddling the puppy, pouting out her lower lip. "Who would leave this little angel by himself? He's adorable!"

"In that case," Fred moseyed over to the blonde, "how about you keep him? He seems to like you."

"Me?!" She protectively clutched the black and white animal to her chest. "Ay dios mio! I couldn't! Candy and Angelica would terrorize him! The poor thing would become a snack!"

Her dad's pit bulls. Of course. The group cringed at the thought of the little Boston Terrier being swallowed whole. Honey Lemon turned to Wasabi, who was nearly finished with his burrito. "What about you, Wasabi? Don't you like dogs?"

His eyes widened, visibly cringing. "Are you crazy?! Who know's where that dog's been? How long has he gone without a bath?! It's probably filthy! It could be crawling with all sorts of diseases! He could have rabies for all we know! Ringworm! Fleas! Oh, my, god if he has fleas-"

"Okay, Wasabi! We get it!" Gogo pounded him on the shoulder in an attempt to get him to shut up. It worked. "You won't take the dog."

Wasabi's outburst was just the thing to break Hiro's concentration, or it probably was his stomach growling for the umpteenth time. He pushed up his goggles, sighing at all the work he still had to do before Baymax's skeleton was complete. Sauntering Carbon Fiber was definitely harder than expected, but if Tadashi could do it, he could too. He forced himself away from the project, ready to ask if Fred was back with food yet, when his eyes locked with two beady black ones. A smile formed on Hiro's lips as the dog began to squirm in Honey Lemon's arms, who proceeded to put him down. The puppy raced over to Hiro, running as fast as his stubby legs could take him. The teenager picked up the little animal, who responded by attacking Hiro's face with kisses. He laughed, not bothering to fight the sudden affection from the dog.

"Hey little guy! How did you get in here?" He peeked an eye open, looking over at his friends, who were softly smiling at the sight of Hiro and the Boston Terrier. "How did he get here? Is he yours, Fred?"

"I wish," Fred made himself comfortable on the counter, "my parents have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to animals. Wasn't even allowed to have a fish growing up. A fish."

Hiro was about to reply, but was interrupted by another wave of kisses from the dog. Hiro let out another laugh, then tucked the dog underneath his arm, and made his way to his share of the dinner. Gogo watched as Hiro made himself comfortable on the couch, unwrapping his burrito with the dog staring eagerly at it.

"So," Fred stated, "My house is out of the question, Wasabi obviously has issues with stray animals, Papa Lemon's dogs will turn our new member into an appetizer... Gogo?" All eyes, minus Hiro's, were now all on her. She sighed.

"Can't. Pets aren't allowed in my apartment complex. 'No excuses'." Gogo signed in air quotes. "Even if I could, I can't. I'm hardly even there. It wouldn't be fair to the little guy."

The group collectively groaned. Thing's weren't really looking up to their new pal. Taking him back to the alleyway was completely out of the question, who knows what would happen to a puppy his size? They were yanked out of their thoughts with a high pitched yap, followed by laugher. The young adults were now focused on Hiro, who was holding a piece of shredded chicken above the puppy's head, who was standing on his hind legs in hopes of getting another snack. Hiro continued taunting the poor dog, who finally let go of the meat, which was caught by the puppy's jaws with a snap. He happily chewed the chicken, leaning into Hiro's warm hand. Hiro began stroking the dog, then began scratching his chest when the puppy rolled on his back. Fred suddenly grinned, rubbing his imaginary goatee.

"Unless..."

"Absolutely not."

"What?! C'mon, Aunt Cass! He has no where else to go!"

Cass pressed her fingers to her temple in a futile attempt to repress a stress headache. A dog was the last thing she expected Hiro to bring home from a long night at the Institute. A cold, most likely, but not a five month old Boston Terrier. She listened to Hiro begs and pleads, all while cradling the sleeping puppy his his arms. Fred stood beside him, adding more promises in exchange for providing the dog a place to stay. Their words were beginning to tie together, and she could barely make out who was saying what. It all was beginning to sound the same.

"Hiro," Aunt Cass suddenly interjected, silencing the boys in mid-sentence, "We are not keeping a dog. They are too much time, and that is something neither of us have now." She put a hand on her nephew's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but we can't keep the him. End of discussion."

She began to scoop the dog out of Hiro's arms in an attempt to get him back to Fred when the puppy began to stir. He let out a tiny yawn, exposing all of his little teeth. He stretched his little legs out, then rolled on his back, making himself more comfortable in the boy's arms. Fred looked up at his friend's guardian, sadly smiling.

"How can you say no to that?"

Aunt Cass let out a little sigh, then shook her head to get herself together. "He's cute, I'll give him that, but I'm working the café and you have school, who's going to take care of him? They're way more high-maintenance than cats! Having a dog is like taking care of a small child! You have mid-terms soon! How are you going to take care of those and a dog?!"

"I'll think of something, Aunt Cass!" Hiro pleaded. "He has nowhere to go! No one can take him, and, and I don't want to take him to the pound! Who know's if he'll make it to the next morning!"

Aunt Cass pursed her lips together. That was a fate that even she didn't want the dog to face. Most of the animals that entered the San Fransokyo Animal Control Center didn't come out. Mochi would've ended up like those animals if Tadashi hadn't picked out the male calico all those years ago. He had one hour, and he would've been euthanized. Aunt Cass rubbed her face with her hand, letting out a steady breath. She would hate to put Hiro in that situation of handing the small puppy over to Animal Control, most likely sentencing the dog to death.

"Alright."

Hiro perked up at his guardian's words. "'Alright'? Aunt Cass, does this mean-"

"It means 'alright, you can keep the dog'."

It was the best news Hiro could've received all day. He let out a cheer and high-fived Fred, waking up the puppy in the process. He let out a small yap, disturbed at his rude awakening. Hiro ruffled the dog's tiny head, who responded with a swarm of love that only a dog could provide.

"Hold on cowboy! There needs to be some rules set first."

Hiro bounced on the balls of his feet, making the dogs' ears flap up and down. At this point, he would agree to anything, as long as he could keep his new companion.

"First of all, he's your responsibility." Aunt Cass couldn't stress that word anymore. "Anything that dog destroys, pees on, or eats is all on you. You gotta walk him, feed him, bathe him... anything that dog needs, you gotta take care of it. Capisce?"

"Capisce." Hiro slid his hands underneath his front legs, and held his new pet in front of him, grinning ear to ear. "Don't worry, Aunt Cass, you won't even know he's here."

That was a definite understatement. They had both decided that because they didn't know anything about his medical history, or any history for that matter, they were going to have the dog sleep in the bathroom until he had gotten checked out by the vet first thing in the morning. They didn't want him getting Mochi sick. Apparently, the little dog had gotten rather attached to Hiro, and he would bark whenever his new friend would leave. They had tried letting him bark himself to sleep at first. The two had tried watched a movie before heading to bed, but the dog's vocal cords were stronger than steel. Halfway through the climax, Aunt Cass paused the film, giving her nephew a look. Hiro rolled his eyes, but didn't complain as he got up from his place on the couch and raced up the stairs. The barking suddenly stopped, the silence better than anything Cass ever heard. He returned ten minutes later, the silence miraculously continuing upstairs as Aunt Cass continued the movie.

The little dog had decided in the early morning that he missed Hiro, and he started his one man choir of barking. It woke up Cass with a jolt, then rolled to read the red illuminating numbers on her nightstand.

3:06am.

She tried muffling the noise with her extra pillow, but the dog's persistent barking made it's way though the feathers and into her eardrums.

"Hiro!"

"I know... I'm on it..."

She heard her nephew slowly shuffle from his bedroom. She heard the bathroom door creak open, the dog's whine, and Hiro doing his best to shush the puppy. The door closed behind him, allowing Cass to slip back into sleep, wondering how much longer it would be until the barking woke her up again.

Surprisingly, Cass slept undisturbed for the rest of the morning, until her alarm clock woke her up at 9:30. It was Saturday, neither she or Hiro had any rush in the morning, but they still had to take the little nuisance to the vet for an expensive round of shots. They were lucky that Fred had offered to cover the cost of the dog's medical bills, he still felt like the dog was his responsibility.

After a long shower, Cass pulled on a clean outfit and made the short trek to Hiro's room. She carefully creaked open the door,

"Hiro, sweetie? The shower's ope-"

She was surprised to see his bed was empty, and that his comforter was missing as well. If it had been any other situation, she would've immediately panicked and searched Tadashi's belongings for the GPS tracker, but she had a good idea where her nephew was. With a camera in hand, she made her way to the hall bathroom.

Sure enough, there was Hiro, sprawled out on his comforter, with the puppy fast asleep on his stomach. The dog was rising up and down with every breath Hiro took in and let out. He must've given up on leaving the dog by himself during the night and camped out with him on the bathroom floor. Both seemed pretty content, Hiro was completely sound asleep as Aunt Cass snapped a few pictures. She promised herself to break them out when Hiro graduated from SFIT, then knelt down to her nephew's sleeping form. She carefully shook his shoulder, mistakingly waking the puppy up. He let out a small stretch, then happily rolled over at the sight of Cass. He let out a few yaps, bouncing on Hiro's stomach. But that wasn't the reason why Hiro sat up with a jolt, scrambling to yank off his sweatshirt.

"He peed on me! What the heck?!"

Cass couldn't help but laugh at her nephew's reaction. Sure enough, there was a dark stain forming on his SFIT sweatshirt, and the puppy was continuing his deed on the comforter. Hiro let out another yell, scooping up the dog and forcing him to touch noses with him.

"That's a bad dog! That was really bad, Dango! You're a bad boy!"

The dog tried making up for his fault with his adorableness by licking Hiro's face, but he remained stoic, glaring at the troublemaker. It was Aunt Cass who broke Hiro's concentration with the dog.

"'Dango'? You already picked out a name for him?"

Hiro stood, grunting as he kicked the soiled fabric into a ball. "Yeah. We have a cat named Mochi, might as well continue the Japanese food tradition." He turned back to the puppy in his arms, scowling. "Who's really bad! You didn't need to pee on me like that!"

Dango just yapped at his master, who in return groaned, and exited the bathroom. "I'll get in the shower in a bit. I'm just gonna take him out really fast."

"Alright," Cass called after him. "I'll throw this in the wash for you, sweetie!"

Hiro yelled up a thank you as he traveled down the stairs with the troublemaker in his arms, leaving Cass to scoop up the evidence of Dango's accident. She peered out the window in the laundry that led to the backyard, watching her nephew rub his bare arms together in an attempt to keep him warm in the cold, October air as Dango ran around the yard, completely oblivious to the reason that brought him outside in the first place. Cass smiled as she watched Hiro plead with the puppy to go potty, who would just respond by rolling on his back, hoping for a belly rub.