A/N: Hello, my dear readers! Yes, I am alive! I missed you all very much. I hope you will all forgive me for the (unintended) hiatus. Further explanation at the end notes :l

IMPORTANT NOTE:

This chapter contains a Tadashi/Hiro moment near the end. However, if you read the tags, (and despite what I wrote in the first chapter notes) you'll see that I don't like classifying it as "Hidashi," as it is not romantic/sexual in nature. It is brief (and a crucial part of the plot), but if you don't like anything like that at all, feel free to click away, and I (hopefully) will see you back for Chapter 8.

Also, blood mention and reference to self-harm.

Enjoy! :3

It's been a long time coming since I've seen your face
I've been everywhere and back trying to replace
Everything that I broke 'til my feet went numb
Praying like a fool just shy of a gun
Heart still beating but it's not working
It's like a hundred thousand voices that just can't sing
I reached out trying to love but I feel nothing
Oh, my heart is numb
But with you
I feel again
Yeah, with you
I can feel again
- Feel Again, OneRepublic

"Spring break. Finally. Yeah." Tadashi chuckled. "Mm-hm. I know. Well, that's the thing. I can't wait to just do nothing. Give our brains a chance to relax. Though I'm sure for the first two days I'm not going to know what to do with myself."

Hiro watched his brother's reflection in the glossy black screen of his computer. Tadashi was sitting on his bed, back turned. He had his cell phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he pulled on his sneakers.

"Oh, yeah. That's this weekend, right?" Tadashi continued, straightening up. "Um..."

Hiro dropped his gaze from the monitor as Tadashi swiveled the upper half of his body to look over at him. "I don't know. I'll, uh, I'll ask, but... Yeah. Alright. See you soon. Bye."

There was a faint beep, and Tadashi disconnected the call. Hiro glanced up to see him making his way across the room. Tadashi paused a foot from the desk, his hands jammed in his pockets.

"Hey."

Hiro grunted in response, giving the mouse a few rapid clicks to switch on the device.

"That was Honey on the phone," Tadashi said. "We're all meeting up at the batting cages for a couple hours. Just to, you know, hang out and de-stress, from school and stuff. You wanna come?" He sounded hopeful, acting as if he hadn't been privy to the happenings of the past weeks.

The screen brightened, and Hiro typed in the password a bit more forceful than necessary. His brother wasn't stupid. Far from it. But he was relentless, cursed with a stubborn optimism that bordered on irritating. It went far beyond not wanting to go. Hiro didn't have it in him to get up and look his friends in the eye after what he'd done. He couldn't. It was bad enough he had to do it five days a week during school. He could only sustain an act for so long before it started wearing on him.

"No." That was the final answer, and Hiro could sense that Tadashi knew not to push him any further.

"Okay." There was a hint of resignation in his tone, mixed with the unmistakable air of disappointment. "I'll, uh, see you later, then. Bye. Love you."

Hiro waited for Tadashi to leave the room before he moved. Hearing the sputtering of a motor, he went over to the window and peeked through the blinds' slats. Just in time to catch a glimpse of Tadashi peeling away from the curb on his scooter. The cherry red vehicle coasted along the street until it took a sharp right turn and vanished from sight.

I really don't understand why he keeps asking you. He's better off if you're not there, anyway. Your brooding would just bring everyone down.

Backing away, the calendar pinned to Hiro's wall materialized in his peripheral vision. The unfortunate truth stood out, printed in stark black and white. Hiro's stomach contorted, sending a painful wave of nausea through him.

It had been one month. One month since that night. Forcing a breath, Hiro turned his back as a familiar heaviness settled in his chest. It didn't matter how much time elapsed between the past and the present. The haunting memories would always be there. A phantom that devoured him whole, chaining him in a prison of regret and shame. The more he tried to convince himself to forget, the more Hiro realized that that was a childish fantasy. They were a part of him now, a debt he owed for his grievous mistake. Taking his schoolbooks in his arms, Hiro hurried from the room. He needed to get away; do something to occupy his mind and keep his hands busy, if only for a while.

Hiro flipped through several pages of his notebook, trying to memorize what he had written down. It all looked like a scramble of letters and numbers at this point. A jumble of formulas and equations that swirled around on the lined paper, making him dizzy.

Setting it in his lap, Hiro sighed and draped the back of his hand over his eyes. Nearly a week had passed already, yet Hiro felt like it had gone by in the blink of an eye.

"Hey, sweetie."

He peeked between his fingers and saw Aunt Cass standing at the end of the couch. She had a plate piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs and a side of bacon in one hand, a glass of orange juice in the other. She set them both on the coffee table before turning to face him. "What are you up to?"

"Just some school stuff," he said, letting his arm fall into his lap.

"I don't miss that," she said with a smile, peeking over at his work. "Why don't you take a break from that for a bit; eat while it's hot?"

"I will," he fibbed, drumming his fingers against the paper. "In a minute. Just gonna finish this up." Hiro blinked and cracked the faintest smile, hoping she would direct her attention elsewhere. Though it was kind, her unwavering gaze seemed to go right through him. After a few seconds of internal persuading, it seemed to do the trick.

"Alright," Aunt Cass said. "Just don't wait too long. I have to run upstairs and start packing, okay?"

Hiro's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"That baking convention, remember?" Aunt Cass asked. She came around and leaned over the back of the sofa. "I've always wanted to go, but they're usually so far away. It's actually in San Fran this year, so I decided to see what it's like."

"Oh, right," Hiro said, picking some lint from his pajamas. "I forgot about that."

"You're not alone," she admitted with an airy chuckle. "I made the plans so long ago. Tadashi reminded me the other day."

Hiro fidgeted in his seat at the mention of his brother. "Oh. Well, that's good. It should be fun."

"I think so. I'm going to miss you guys, though. I've never been away from my babies for more than a few hours."

"We'll be okay," Hiro assured her, forcing a small smile.

"I know," she said, her hand coming up to tousle his hair. "It's just one night, and I'll be back tomorrow evening."

Catching a glimpse of her watch, Aunt Cass gasped. "I better hurry." She planted a kiss on the top of Hiro's head and squeezed his shoulder. "I'll be down soon."

Her delicate footsteps drifted away, a different set entering the kitchen a few minutes later. Heavier and more spaced apart, they advanced toward the living room until Hiro felt a shadow looming over him. A sudden sense of powerlessness gripped him, the memory of the attack playing out before his eyes. He recoiled, trying to make himself seem as small as possible.

"Morning," came his brother's sleepy greeting, punctuated by a brief yawn.

Hiro tensed, fiddling with the pencil in his hand. "Hi."

If he were being honest, Hiro was surprised that Tadashi was even speaking to him. For the past week, Tadashi had barely acknowledged his existence. That was if he was even home to begin with. Tadashi had gone out every day, often leaving early and coming back late. He never said where he was going; just a quick goodbye and he was out the door. And he didn't ask Hiro to join him anymore. Hiro supposed that was a good thing. But after the third day of receiving the cold shoulder, he started to wonder if that was what he truly wanted. But he just didn't know how to say it. So, he stayed quiet and continued to build up his walls.

Plopping down next to him, Tadashi leaned against the cushions with a sigh. "It's a beautiful day out," he said, gesturing to the window. It was all cloudless blue skies and bright sunshine that bathed neighboring rooftops. "Good news for us. The Cherry Blossom Festival is today. You're coming, right?"

Fuck.

Another thing Hiro had forgotten. The Cherry Blossom Festival. The annual event which ushered in the spring with the blooming of the delicate sakura trees. It was also the time to celebrate the rich Japanese culture that was so integral to the city's identity. Parades, kabuki performances, and fireworks were staples of the festival. Eager vendors set up kiosks on the avenues that saw the most traffic. Some displayed and sold handmade treasures crafted from fine materials imported straight from Japan. Others served up a variety of Japanese delicacies to sample. The San Fransokyo Symphony provided music, along with hosting karaoke contests throughout the day. There were also numerous activities that people could take part in. Everything from sake tastings and bunraku shows. To tea ceremony demonstrations, and workshops to learn the time-honored arts of ikebana and origami. With something for all ages, it was an occasion anticipated by thousands. One that Hiro had attended every year since he was born.

"I-I can't," Hiro said quickly, getting up. "I have work to do." He transferred to the armchair closer to the fireplace. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he balanced the notebook on his legs.

"Work? But it's spring break."

He's so pushy. Why won't he get it through his thick skull?

"Yeah, well, my professor's a huge jackass," Hiro retorted. He could feel Tadashi narrow his eyes at him for his choice of words, but he didn't say anything.

"What subject is it?" Tadashi asked after a minute, disturbing the uneasy silence that filled the space between the two. He sat forward, holding out his hand. "Can I see?"

Reluctant, Hiro passed him the book. "It's calc. For engineers," he said, folding his arms.

Tadashi scanned the paper, chewing on his bottom lip. "This isn't so bad," he said, returning it. "I can help you with it tomorrow if you want. Come on." He waved his hand towards the stairs, indicating that Hiro should hurry up and get dressed.

"It's alright. I'm gonna skip it this time." Hiro turned his attention back to his assignment, failing to notice Tadashi's incredulous look.

"What?"

Tadashi shot up from his seat and snatched the notebook out of Hiro's unsuspecting hands. "Are you kidding me?"

"Hey! Give that back, Tadashi." Hiro started to grab for it but stopped when he saw Tadashi's face. There was a dark glint in his eyes, and his mouth twisted itself into a hard scowl. Hiro had never seen him so upset. He shrank back, wishing he could disappear between the crevices of the chair, just like Mochi used to as a kitten.

Tadashi ignored his demand, holding the book just out of reach. "What do you mean you're 'gonna skip it,' Hiro? W-we go every year. It's tradition, or did you forget? It's already disappointing enough that Aunt Cass can't come, but now you're bailing, too? What's been going on with you lately, huh? It's like you're not even part of this family anymore. And what about our friends? They couldn't wait to hang out with you this week, and you totally blew them off. Every time I saw them, they kept asking, 'Where's Hiro? Where's Hiro?' And I had to come up with some ridiculous lie as to why you weren't there."

Hiro kept his head down, letting him rant. He deserved it. Any excuse or reasoning he tried to come up with seemed feeble at best. But that didn't mean he couldn't try. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice meek. "I just want to get it over with. The material's really confusing, and there's a test next week, and-"

Tadashi scoffed. "Don't give me that, Hiro. You know that neither of us is buying it. I mean, let's be honest. This?" Tadashi waved the book in the air. "This is child's play. I know you could do this in your sleep. And so do you."

Swallowing, Hiro lifted his head, meeting Tadashi's gaze. "I'm sorry." It was a pathetic response, something that he was expecting Tadashi to berate him for. not that he would have blamed him.

Rather, Tadashi's expression softened, and he brought his arm down to rest at his side. "I don't understand," he said. "I thought we were okay. I thought you forgave me. But it's obvious that you're still really angry. I just don't know what to do anymore."

"I'm not," Hiro insisted, anxious fingers curling to grip the fabric of his pajama bottoms.

"Then what is it, Hiro?" Tadashi pleaded, moving toward him. "Just tell me. Maybe I can fix it."

Hiro's heart stuttered against his rib cage. They were entering into dangerous territory. "I don't want to talk about it," he said, daring to maintain eye contact.

The same irritation from before flickered across Tadashi's features, melting away a second later. Instead, he sighed, giving a defeated shrug. "Fine. Whatever. Forget it." Tadashi tossed Hiro's book on the coffee table, narrowly missing the food that Aunt Cass had laid out. Hiro flinched.

As Tadashi passed by him, Hiro reached out and touched his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Hiro tried to smile, but he was sure it resembled more of a grimace. "Have a good time. Eat some taiyaki for me, okay?"

Tadashi looked down, biting the inside of his cheek. "I've gotta go get ready," he said finally, pulling away from Hiro. He then went ahead, crossing the kitchen and disappearing back up the stairs to the attic.

Alone, Hiro moved back to the sofa and laid down. He left the notebook where it was, any ounce of motivation to finish his work long gone.

Lost in thought. Hiro dragged his finger back and forth along the seam of the couch. It didn't take long for him to notice how the fibers seemed to turn lighter or darker, depending on which way he smoothed them down. It was oddly relaxing, and soon, Hiro could feel his eyelids growing heavy.

Hiro figured he must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, he heard the jarring sound of rubber soles against the polished hardwood. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and glanced over at the source of the noise. Tadashi was by the counter, dressed. He pocketed an apple and then grabbed the keys to his moped that were laying next to the fruit bowl. Pausing at the top of the stairs, Tadashi's gaze met Hiro's.

"Listen, can you just tell Aunt Cass that I left?" he asked, his voice coming off stilted. "She's still in the shower and I don't think she heard me."

Hiro nodded before facing away from him. "Yeah, sure," he said, concentrating on the framed family portrait above the mantle. Him, Tadashi and Aunt Cass from years past. Aunt Cass had her arms around Tadashi's shoulders while Hiro hung onto her by means of a piggyback ride. Hiro couldn't even remember how old he was when they took that photo. But judging from his round cheeks and missing teeth, he wasn't more than five or six. Those were happier times. Simpler. Before he fucked everything up.

"Thanks. I'll be back later."

There was a slight jingling from Tadashi's keys as he jogged down the steps, followed by the squeak of the rusty hinges, and a soft thud as the door closed behind him.

Hiro tried to breathe, but the air felt stale, and it hurt his lungs. The silence that Tadashi had left in his wake was deafening. That was the final nail in the coffin, and Hiro knew that he had just created a permanent chasm between them.

His fingers throbbed, finding their way to his thigh. Beneath the thin material of his pajamas, he could feel them. His scars. Bloodied and cracked lines that disfigured his skin. They stung and itched, still so raw from his latest release. They were the target of his self-hatred. An easy mark for his anger.

He felt the overwhelming desire to tear at them once more, to draw blood and punish himself.

But just as he steadied himself, he heard a voice from the opposite side of the room.

"Hiro?"

"Yeah," he answered, inching his hand away from his leg. He grabbed his notebook from the coffee table just as Aunt Cass appeared, her rolling luggage in tow.

"Wha- honey, what are you- where's Tadashi?"

"He went to the festival," Hiro said, scribbling something down on the paper.

"Without you?"

Hiro stopped writing and cleared his throat, a nervous tickle beginning to act up. "I told him to," he said.

"What? Why? You love the festival."

"I wasn't really feeling up to it this year," Hiro mumbled.

"You didn't even touch your breakfast," Aunt Cass remarked, concern evident in her voice. She sat down beside him and laid the back of her hand against his forehead. "Hm. You don't feel warm," she murmured. Brushing some stray hairs out of his eyes, she moved her hand away, letting it rest on her knee. "Are you feeling okay, sweetie? Are you sick?"

Ha.

Hiro shook his head, pushing away the voice as best he could. "I'm just super busy. We're already preparing for finals. All the professors have these after-school review sessions and practice exams. I haven't had time to think about anything else. That's all."

Aunt Cass pursed her lips, not seeming convinced. "Maybe I should stay home..."

His eyes widened. "What? N-no. Aunt Cass, you've been waiting for this for a long time. Go. I'm okay. Really." He felt his words tripping over themselves in his haste to get them out. Hiro watched her face for visual cues, silently willing her to change her mind. After a minute, she sighed, giving in to his urging.

"Alright. On one condition: you have to promise me that you'll eat something. There's still some chili from yesterday. But if you don't want that, I think there might be pizza in the freezer." She gave him a pointed look. "Promise?"

"Promise," Hiro said though he didn't think it sounded all that believable.

"Good." Aunt Cass stood up and took ahold of the luggage handle. "Listen, if you need anything, you call or text right away. I can be home within a half hour, okay? Or, if you can't reach me, call Tadashi. He's not far."

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be fine."

She smiled and bent down to kiss his cheek. "I love you."

"You too."

Aunt Cass then went down to the first floor, the suitcase thumping with each step as she dragged it behind her.

"Bye, honey," she called up one last time.

The door then opened and shut, and it was quiet. So quiet that Hiro could hear his heartbeat in his ears. The silence unnerved him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. Fishing between the cushions for the remote, Hiro flipped on the television. Voices and music poured out of the speakers, filling some of the hollowness of the room.

Unable to sit still any longer, Hiro got up and began to pace. First, he went downstairs into the empty café - a rare sight for early afternoon. The chairs were all flipped upside down, resting on top of the tables. It made the floors easier to clean, Aunt Cass said. The refrigerated glass cases near the front displayed a variety of pastries and desserts, all made from scratch. As Hiro wandered closer, he caught a glimpse of the outside. Already there were throngs of people clogging the sidewalks. The Lucky Cat was located on a busy street, one that was also the final stretch of the parade route. Making sure to stay out of sight, Hiro watched the crowds swell for a few minutes before turning back upstairs.

Bypassing the kitchen and the living room, Hiro entered the dining room. The family used it for its true purpose only twice a year, on Thanksgiving and Christmas. The rest of the time it was just a dumping ground for bills and junk mail. Torn envelopes and old catalogs littered the shiny wooden table, making the surface almost disappear under the mess. Leaving the dining room, Hiro then went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Jars and bottles of different condiments lined the door while plastic containers and Styrofoam boxes of leftovers packed the shelves. Though his stomach grumbled and growled with hunger, Hiro really had no desire to eat anything at all. But remembering the promise he made to Aunt Cass, he took the Tupperware of turkey chili from the previous night's dinner and tossed the contents into a small pot on the stove. Not waiting for it to properly boil, Hiro removed the pot from the heat after five minutes and poured the chili into a bowl. It was barely warm around the edges and still ice cold in the middle, but Hiro didn't care. He was eating to placate his aunt, nothing more.

Hiro only managed a few bites before his body started to reject the meal. His stomach churned, threatening to empty itself of its contents. Scraping the rest into the trash, Hiro returned to the living room.

His open notebook stared at him from the end of the sofa, but Hiro ignored it. Instead, he shoved a cushion under his head and laid down, keeping his focus on the television.

Aunt Cass checked in on him by a handful of texts throughout the afternoon, all of which Hiro answered with curt, one-word responses:

Hi sweetie. How are you feeling?

...

fine.

Did you eat something?

...

chili

Did Tadashi text you? he's going to a kabuki

show soon so he has to turn off his phone.

...

ok

It was no surprise to Hiro that Tadashi hadn't tried to contact him at all. He was pissed, and rightly so.

As the shadows fell and the day turned to night, Hiro heard the distinct whistle and shriek of the first firework shooting toward the sky. It was then followed by a loud burst as it exploded over the city. He had shut off the television long ago, and since he hadn't bothered to switch on the lights when the sun went down, Hiro could make out the faint glow of the fireworks on the opposite wall from where he lay. Blues, reds, and golds came and went, lighting up the darkened room in intermittent flashes.

Cheers and excited shouts rang out from the streets below. Hiro imagined Tadashi and their friends crammed alongside other revelers on the sidewalk, taking in the display with rapt attention. It was better that he wasn't there, Hiro reminded himself. He would have ruined the occasion with his sour attitude, and they deserved a good spring break. One that was enjoyable and stress-free. One without him.

Hiro was already in bed by the time Tadashi got home just before ten, though he was still wide awake. If Hiro strained, he could hear every move Tadashi made: setting his keys down on the counter, pushing the kitchen chairs around, and finally, opening and closing the refrigerator.

As Tadashi ascended the stairs to their room, he called out, "Hiro?"

Hiro didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the blankets up, shut his eyes and slowed his breathing, feigning sleep.

Tadashi came in a moment later, and, if Hiro wasn't mistaken, he almost sounded disappointed. "In bed already?"

Allowing his eyes to open just a crack, Hiro watched Tadashi kick off his sneakers by the foot of his bed before making his way to the bathroom. He heard the scratch of his brother's toothbrush, running water, and the flush of the toilet. Tadashi emerged a few minutes later in his pajamas, dumping his day clothes in the hamper.

Once more, Hiro saw Tadashi's gaze land on him. With careful steps, Tadashi approached Hiro's bed and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I really wish you had come today," Hiro heard him whisper. Taking his hand away, Tadashi sighed. "I guess I can tell you about it in the morning." He then switched off Hiro's bedside lamp and retreated to his side of the room.

Hiro watched Tadashi settle underneath the covers and turn over on his side, facing the bookshelf that lined his wall.

Hiro squirmed slightly; he had to use the bathroom. Truth be told, he'd had to go for quite some time - the only problem was mustering up the energy to move. But now he had to wait. He couldn't risk getting up if Tadashi was still awake. So he did, listening for the cues that Tadashi had fallen asleep.

Propping himself up on one arm, Hiro strained to see in the dark. He could just make out the outline of Tadashi's form. It was quiet on the other side of the room now, and Hiro swore he could make out the soft sound of Tadashi's breathing.

Peeling back the blankets, Hiro shifted to the edge of the bed and stood up, shivering as his soles made contact with the chilly floor.

He crossed the room, using the thin strip of light coming from underneath the bathroom door as his only guide.

When he finished, Hiro crept back toward his bed, careful to not make much noise. Though, now in near-pitch darkness, Hiro took a wrong step and tripped over Tadashi's sneakers, sending him tumbling to the ground with a shout.

He cursed under his breath as a painful throbbing erupted in his knee.

"...Hiro?"

Shit.

"Hiro." Tadashi sounded more alert now, and Hiro could hear him shifting around on the mattress. There was a click and the room instantly filled with light as Tadashi switched on his lamp. He then appeared above him, peeking over the side of the bed. "Hiro, what are you doing down there? Are you okay?"

Hiro scrambled to his feet, ignoring the ache in his leg. "I'm fine. I went to the bathroom and I guess I didn't look where I was going."

"Are you hurt?" Tadashi asked, his voice sincere with concern.

"No," he lied. "Sorry I woke you."

Hiro then slipped past the bed, only to pause when Tadashi grabbed the hem of his shirt. He turned, prompting Tadashi to let go and sit up straight.

"Hey. Listen, I want to apologize for what I said this morning," Tadashi said. "About you not being a part of the family and all that stuff. I just lost my temper and I took it out on you. I'm really sorry, Hiro. I didn't mean it."

Glancing down briefly, Hiro nodded, dragging his toe along the grain of the wood. Tadashi shouldn't have been apologizing to him.

"I know," he said. "It's okay." He started back to his corner once more when Tadashi held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait. I'd really like to tell you about the festival. What do you say?"

Hiro hesitated until he saw Tadashi's outstretched hand. It was an invitation. A peace offering. Tadashi then smiled, but it was weak. Hiro could tell that Tadashi was bracing himself for when Hiro inevitably declined his request. Tadashi was trying so hard to mend their relationship, even when he didn't have to. It was the least Hiro could do to spend a few minutes with him.

Sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, Hiro folded his hands in his lap. "So... what did you guys do?"

Tadashi didn't answer right away. It seemed like he wanted to say something else. His eyes shifted to the space that separated them and back to Hiro.

"I won't bite, knucklehead," Tadashi said finally. He kept his voice soft, yet the hurt was clear. "Sit with me."

Scooting closer, Hiro settled between Tadashi's legs before leaning against him and resting his head right below Tadashi's collarbone.

"There we go," Tadashi said, his tone brighter. "That's better, right? Now, the festival-oh. Before I forget, I brought you home your own taiyaki."

Hiro blinked up at him. "You did?"

"Yeah, as we were leaving, the vendor was making a fresh batch," Tadashi said. "It's chocolate - your favorite. I thought you could have it for breakfast with syrup - just how you like it."

There was a thrum of gratitude in Hiro's chest. "T-Thank you."

Rubbing small circles into his back, Tadashi smiled. "No problem. Anyway, back to the festival. Well, it was packed, of course. There were so many people already there when I arrived, I almost didn't find a place for my bike. But, luckily, I did, and I met up with everyone right by the movies. We walked around for a while, and then Honey saw this beautiful silk purse she wanted. It was kinda expensive, though, but GoGo haggled with the guy for a good fifteen minutes. It was pretty impressive. Then there was this wasabi-eating contest - basically who could eat a teaspoon in one bite. Fred won. He suffered, poor guy. But the good news is that his cold is gone. And, you know, we just browsed all the shops, had some lunch. We also saw this kabuki show that was amazing. I think you would have really liked it, Hiro. It was about this man, and..."

Tadashi's ramblings melted away, though Hiro could feel the rumbling of his voice reverberating through his chest. It soothed him, and Hiro began tracing idle patterns across Tadashi's shirt. It was an old Ninjas one that he had gotten for his sixteenth birthday, and somehow, it still fit five years on. It was faded, with the logo having turned from a stark black to a charcoal gray from repeated washes. Even so, it was soft and comfortable, with the fibers now permanently imbued with the sweet aroma of coffee and cinnamon from years of helping out in the café. Curling his fingers around a bit of the worn, cotton material, Hiro shut his eyes. Sitting like this with Tadashi reminded Hiro of when they were little; when they would huddle together during a thunderstorm, hiding under the blanket from the lightning. Tadashi would tell stories; tall tales about superheroes and robots that kept Hiro's mind off of the howling storm right outside. Tadashi was selfless to a fault, always giving to others with no expectations of anything in return. Not to mention forgiving, like now, with Tadashi acting like he always did, like their argument that morning never happened. He could have just brushed Hiro aside, but he didn't. He wanted to be with him and share the events of his day.

It struck Hiro then just how lonely he was. How the sickening emptiness that had sunk its teeth into him and swallowed him had isolated him from his family. How this chill that settled deep within his bones and could not be remedied with a hot drink and a blanket had left him desperate to feel something. Anything.

"So, what did you do while I was gone?"

Hiro opened his eyes when he realized that Tadashi was addressing him. But the question went unanswered.

Acting on impulse, Hiro leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Tadashi's. The kiss was chaste and featherlight, like his brother's lips were made of glass. Tadashi tensed at the contact and Hiro felt a warm pressure against his sternum. A hand. The pressure increased until the connection was broken and a cool rush of air filled the minute gap between them.

Hiro's grip on Tadashi's shirt loosened as the paralyzing surge reality came flooding back, knocking the wind out of him.

"Hiro...?"

Tadashi reached for him, but Hiro ripped himself away so fast his head spun. Hot tears clouded his vision and all he saw was the blurry outline of his brother. The fight-or-flight instinct that lay dormant until now kicked in. It stirred up within Hiro's chest like a tornado and he launched himself back, scrambling to get away. But then Tadashi grabbed his arm, and Hiro froze.

"Hiro, wait," he pleaded.

Hiro whimpered, trying in vain to pry Tadashi's hand off. "Let me go, please."

There was a fire at his back. It licked his bones and engulfed his spine. The invisible smoke stung his eyes, constricting his throat. He couldn't breathe. Tadashi's grip was firm, and Hiro's strength was fading. He could feel it draining from his fingertips. The tension in his arm wilted. He was too tired; too weak to fight.

He crumbled.

Tadashi released Hiro's wrist from his grasp and pulled him close. Exhausted and shaking, Hiro didn't resist as Tadashi held him tight. His slight frame convulsed with violent sobs as shame tore a hole in his heart. He wanted to die.

"I'm sorry!" he wailed against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Hiro sounded like a broken record, but the stream of apologies was all he could verbalize.

Tadashi pressed his lips to the crown of his head, murmuring words of comfort into his hair. "Shh... shh, shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay, Hiro. Shh..."

How can he say that? Nothing about this is okay.

He snapped his head up to stare directly into Tadashi's watery gaze.

"Why aren't you mad?" Hiro demanded, his eyes ablaze with self-loathing. "Why don't you hate me?"

"Hiro..." Tadashi gently cradled his face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away the tears from his cheeks. "You are the most important person in the world to me. Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you. Do you understand? Nothing. I love you so much."

Tadashi then tucked his head under his chin and began to gently card his fingers through Hiro's hair.

He held him just like that for the longest time, until Hiro's sobs dissolved into quiet sniffles. Still, despite the relative silence, Hiro could hear the gears turning in his brother's head.

Moments later, Tadashi sighed.

"Hiro..."

Hiro trembled, an involuntary reaction as he prepared himself for what was coming.

"Please tell me what's wrong," Tadashi went on. "Please. You have to let me help you, but I can't unless I know what happened."

There it was. Everything that Hiro had tried so hard to avoid all came crashing down around him a single breath.

"I can't," Hiro said, the words shaky in their conviction.

"Hey." Placing his thumb and forefinger under Hiro's chin, Tadashi gently tilted his face up. Two pairs of brown eyes met, and Tadashi smiled. It was warm and loving, just like him.

"You can tell me anything, Hiro. You know that. Rule Number One, remember?"

Hamada Brothers Rule Number One: Hamada brothers can tell each other anything. No judgments, no teasing, no secrets.

Hiro shook his head, desperate to hold on to the incriminating secret. He knew that it was slowly destroying him, but it was his. It was all he had.

"They'll kill me," Hiro whispered, his dark eyes now wide and fearful.

In an instant, Tadashi's face darkened. The protective glint in his eyes flared to life and his jaw tightened.

"What? Hiro, who said that? Was it someone you know?"

Hiro nodded as his bottom lip quivered.

"Someone from school?"

"No."

"Who, Hiro? I swear - they can't hurt you anymore."

Hiro looked away, the corners of his eyes burning with unshed tears. It was useless to resist any longer. "Yama... and his men."

The name felt heavy on Hiro's tongue, and he felt as though he had just sealed his fate.

"What did they do to you?" There was a hard edge to Tadashi's voice, though it wavered.

"They hurt me, 'Dashi." Hiro bit down on his lip until he tasted blood. He then glanced back at Tadashi, receiving the same pitying look as before.

"What happened, Hiro?" His tone was softer and he gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay."

Hiro didn't recognize his own voice when he spoke. "They raped me."

For a moment, Tadashi's face was inscrutable. Hiro figured it was only a matter of time until the other shoe dropped. Until Tadashi pushed him away and called him disgusting and told him that he didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

But he didn't. Tadashi's expression contorted into one of anguish. His breath hitched and a single tear slipped free, creating a small dark spot on his pant leg. "What? No... Hiro, no. No, no, no. Please, no. Oh, God. I-"

Hiro's hand flew to his mouth as another broken sob forced itself out. He folded over into himself and squeezed his eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears trailed down his cheeks. He tried to speak, but any words disintegrated into ash at the back of his throat. Tadashi scooped him up in one swift motion and placed him securely in his lap.

Hiro felt himself unraveling, though he was grateful for Tadashi's arms around him. They were strong and unyielding, doing everything in their power to keep him together.

"I'm sorry, Hiro. I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. I've got you. You're going to be okay. I promise."

A/N: I hope you all liked it! Please review! ^_^

check me out on Tumblr: PrincessOfNewCorona :)

All of Hiro's classes mentioned, both in this chapter and Chapter 5, are all taken from the companion book, "Hiro's Journal" It's a must-read (if you want your heart stomped on) :)))

"Taiyaki" is a typical Japanese street food. It's a pastry in the shape of a fish, usually with some type of filling. The traditional filling is red bean paste, but other ones include cheese, chocolate, and custard.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: I want to apologize tremendously for the delay, everyone. You all have been so kind with your encouraging words and kudos, and it means absolutely everything to me. Unfortunately, school and other personal issues have really taken a toll on me, hence the ridiculous time between chapters. HOWEVER, I want you all to know, that, at this time, I have every intention of continuing/completing this story. If at any time, I feel that I do not want to continue, I will let you all know and I won't just leave you hanging. But just remember, this story is extremely special to me, and I most definitely want to see it through to the end. I hope you all will be with me, too. Once again, thanks a million for the support and love. You all are amazing :3