Through the Tears and Years

When I first died, I was sad. I was torn and upset, but I knew I could do nothing. It had already happened.

At first I was confused, at first I didn't know what happened. It was all a blur, and nothing in the end added up together.

But it all changed when I saw my little brother's face, full of tears, of sadness, and despair I never thought was possible, and what tore my non beating heart into pieces was knowing that It was me, I had caused this and I cannot change this. My stupidity is what killed me, and it's what made my brother like this. I don't know if I'll be able to ever forgive myself. Much less forget.

As an older brother, I knew I failed. I failed everything that was right and wrong, and in between. Nothing would be the same no matter how much wishing was to be made. That facts still stood as clear as day. I was the worst older brother ever to be known, because in the end, I could not wipe those tears falling from my little brother's eyes. I'm a failure and a mistake, and no matter what, nothing could change.

A brother shouldn't die for a brother, they are supposed to live for another, and watch each other's backs, no matter what is to happen. And I failed the rule like I failed my little brother.

For this first few weeks, I followed my little brother around like a shadow, lurking behind him and watching his every move, and the more I did, the more sadness and aching my heart felt.

He would eat barely anything and became far more skinnier than what I would have liked. He would just sit there and stare with an expression of pain, he would barely even talk when Aunt Cass decided to come in. He wouldn't sleep and when he did it was little and far in between, bags developing under his eyes. What pained me even more was seeing when he look into my side of the room and at my hat that sat silently upon my bed.

Tears wouldn't even well up in his eyes because I knew he spent most of the nights crying and therefor had no more tears to spare, but the pain was enough to drive my own tears out of my eyes, and it was even more painful when he wouldn't dare look over there, not wanting to be in more pain.

Then something happened. For good or for bad, I cannot decided, but one day, through the clutches of the depression that overcame him, he said the magic word that brought my creation to life. I watched as Baymax blew up and I was amused by how he got to my brother who couldn't believe what he was seeing.

It started from there. My little brother started healing on the inside thanks to the robot I created. Yes he had some hardships, but I knew that he would get through them. He befriended my old friends and I watched the adventures they went through with worry and hope. I felt myself heal from the pain that I had seen my little brother in day after day when he began to heal, but a little part of me was still sad that I wasn't the one to make him smile.

Watching my brother grow was soon to be cut short, by an accident that was all a blur that happened, and soon I found my little brother standing before me, tears in his eyes and astonishment clear on his face.

My hands were awkward as I held them slightly up, giving him a sheepish smile. Yes, I was sad that his life was cut short, just like mine, and that our friends and aunt will grow sad once more, but I couldn't help but be happy that my little brother stood before me once more.

"Hey," He looked at me, startled at the fact that I had just spoken. He probably thought it was all a dream. I didn't blame him. I would probably too. "It's been a while." I needed to say no more as I found my arms filled with my little brother, a smile slipping upon my face as he cried on my chest, my arms wrapping around him. "Aw, don't cry Hiro, we're finally together again." He cried louder and hugged me tighter, and I couldn't help but cry a few tears.

When I first died, I was sad and confused. I was also lonely with no one around. But now, my little brother is once again in my arms.

I don't recall ever being so happy in my life like right now.