*Read this chapter before reading the first chapter of Cosmic Intervention. Links are on my profile.

The night was clear, and Tadashi felt like flying.

Beside him, his brother was as exuberant. The boy's eyes were wide and brilliant, and his mouth was stretched into a gap-toothed smile. "I did it!" whooped Hiro, pumping his fist into the air.

"You did," agreed Tadashi, grin as wide as his brother's. "Fist bump?"

Hiro obliged, and the two bumped fists. "Ka-poww!"

After watching Hiro bounce on his feet, Tadashi closed his eyes, pride bubbling in his chest. He had resisted the urge to start whooping and jumping up and down with arms in the air after the presentation - as he was the mature one, after all - but Hiro had done it!

Hiro, his baby brother - the boneheaded, irritating, unbelievable genius - had wowed an entire audience with his amazing technology, and Tadashi felt like shouting from the top of the San Fransokyo Bridge.

Unable to contain himself further, Tadashi reached out and snagged his brother. "Come here, you," he gushed, lifting Hiro off his feet. Spinning him around, Tadashi raised Hiro into the air before wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. "You complete and utter genius!"

"Gah, gross! G-get off, you nerd!" Hiro said, immediately squirming in Tadashi's hold.

Ignoring how Hiro wriggled in his arms, Tadashi squeezed him tighter. "I am," he said, "so proud of you."

Face shoved against Tadashi's shirt, Hiro groaned. "You're so embarrassing!" he hissed, trying to elbow Tadashi away. He squeaked as Tadashi's hug tightened. "Can't. Breathe." Hiro moved around a bit more, contorting his arms to attack Tadashi's ribs.

Tadashi endured several pokes, then grimaced, releasing Hiro as his sides twinged with pain. "Okay, okay. No hugs." He rubbed his ribs ruefully. "Your elbows are lethal."

"Whatever," his brother grumbled, taking several breaths of air and then brushing the hair out of his eyes. Tadashi watched with an amused air; then, an idea struck him. A mischievous smile tugging on his lips, he stepped closer to the teen.

Hiro saw him coming and paused, pointing a finger warningly. He evidently recognized the look on Tadashi's face. "No more hugs!"

With a nod, Tadashi replied, "Sure," and then reached out a hand, ruffling Hiro's hair. He couldn't resist - Hiro's reactions were adorable.

"Gah!" The younger boy ducked and avoided the hand. "Tadashi!" he said, frowning as Tadashi laughed. "Stop laughing!"

Smothering his laugh and eyes crinkling at the edges with mirth, Tadashi raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I'll stop." His smile softened. "But you were amazing. And I'm proud of you."

"Yeah, yeah," Hiro muttered, shuffling his feet in embarrassment. His cheeks were a light pink, barely noticeable in the dim light.

Tadashi's smile widened, and he fought to keep down another chuckle; for a fourteen-year-old genius, his brother was remarkably shy.

As if he could hear Tadashi's thoughts, Hiro glared at him and flushed a bit more. "And stop that! It's embarrassing!" Anxious to hide his red face, Hiro huffed and pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head, zipping the jacket all the way up to his neck.

The resulting view was so Hiro that Tadashi burst out laughing, giving his brother a pat on the head. I need a camera, he thought, listening with amusement as Hiro grumbled into his jacket. "Come on, genius, let's go," Tadashi said, laughter in his voice. He gave Hiro a nudge. "Aunt Cass and the others are waiting." Maybe I can ask Honey to sneak me some photos with her phone...

The two made their way to the parking lot, easily falling into their routine bickering. They tossed good-natured insults back and forth, the nicknames ranging from bonehead to nerd. Other than the occasional poke or nudge to the ribs, Tadashi refrained from glomping his brother again.

After a particular grumble from Hiro, though - "Guess I'll be joining you at your nerd school," - Tadashi pretended to take offense and playfully tugged Hiro's hood down. His brother jerked to a stop with surprise, and then, after a second, yanked Tadashi's hat off his head in retaliation.

The little - Narrowing his eyes, Tadashi locked gazes with Hiro, indulging in a brief staring contest before breaking out into a wide grin and lunging towards his brother. Hiro, anticipating Tadashi's attack, danced out of reach, impish grin in place and waving the captured hat above his head.

The bickering soon dissolved into a game of keep-Tadashi's-hat-away, and Tadashi began to chase after Hiro, determined to tackle his little brother into another bear hug. Hiro had gotten a head start, but was slowing down. The genius spent too much of his time inside to excel in athletics, even with the karate lessons, and Tadashi easily kept up with him, singsonging as he went, "Bear hug... bear hug..."

Soon Tadashi had successfully captured the elusive teen, and wrapped Hiro into a headlock. Growling playfully, Tadashi said, "So... what did you call me, bonehead?"

Hiro stuck his tongue out at him. "I called you a nerd!"

Well, he asked for it. "Oh yeah? Well, since you'll be attending the nerd school in a month," Tadashi tickled Hiro, and the boy yelped, trying to escape Tadashi's fingers. "You're also a nerd, nerd." He knew that Hiro was extremely sensitive under his arms and on his sides, and attacked accordingly.

"Gahahahaha!" choked out Hiro, wriggling away from Tadashi. "Okay, okay, I give!"

Tadashi paused, but kept his hands where they were. No way I'm letting you get away that easily. "What's Rule 96 of the Hamada Bros?"

Mouth gaping, Hiro looked incredulously at his brother. "Seriously? You want me to sa-AHH!" He yelled, as Tadashi resumed his attack. "Aha, ah! Uh, un, uncle!" Hearing the word, Tadashi stopped, and Hiro sagged in his arms, groaning. "I feel like I'm going to die," he said.

"You'll be fine," Tadashi replied, patting Hiro's head and setting his hat over his brother's unruly hair. They had stopped not too far away from the parking lot, and Tadashi could make out the forms of Aunt Cass and his friends chatting by Wasabi's car. He smiled softly at the sight - it was nice to see everyone he cared about in the same place. Including the bonehead, of course, Tadashi thought fondly, eyeing the hatted, messy-haired genius skipping beside him.

Hiro caught his gaze, and grinned; his eyes were positively sparkling.

Tadashi ruffled his hair again.

He and Hiro were about to enter the entrance of the parking lot when a shrill bell rang through the still night air. Tadashi turned to the sound, brow furrowed as he saw a column of smoke rising into the air.Isn't that...?

"What is it?" Hiro asked, craning his neck to see what Tadashi was looking at. Wordlessly, he took off Tadashi's hat and handed it back, rising on tiptoe to try and see what was going on.

"Fire alarm," Tadashi answered absently, accepting the hat and setting it back on his head. "Come on - and stay close." He placed a hand on Hiro's shoulder, herding his brother in front of him as they made their way towards the exhibition hall. There was a crowd growing near the steps, and Tadashi didn't want to lose Hiro in the throng of people; the teen's height made him almost impossible to spot in a group of adults.

They arrived at the edges of the crowd, and Tadashi tapped on a shoulder. The person turned to look at him. "What's going on?" he asked, watching smoke rise from a far corner of the roof of the building.

"A fire broke out," came the reply. "The fire department's been called."

"And they better get here quickly," someone added. "There are a lot of flammable things in there."

"Yeah," Tadashi said distractedly, eyes on the trail of smoke in the air. Beside him, Hiro gasped, and he turned to look at his little brother. "What is it?"

"My neural-cranial transmitter!" Hiro said, patting down his pockets, turning them inside-out. "It's still in there!" He took a step forward, but Tadashi jerked him back, snagging the hood on his jacket.

"Oh no, you don't," he said determinedly. "There's a fire. Hopefully it'll survive the flames, but if it doesn't, you'll just have to make another one. I'm not letting you go inside."

"It's just a small fire," protested Hiro, trying to tug his jacket free. "And it's going to take me another month to gather up enough materials to make another neural-cranial transmitter!"

Tadashi shook his head. "No is no, Hiro," he said firmly. His brother turned to pout at him. On any other occasion, Tadashi would have folded to that particular expression on his brother's face - they both knew that Aunt Cass was a sucker for it - but the seriousness of the situation firmed his resolve. "Even with the puppy eyes," he added.

His brother pouted for real and rolled his eyes. "Killjoy," he muttered, slumping in Tadashi's stern grip.

One eye on Hiro and the other on the building, Tadashi kept a firm hold on the hood, well aware of Hiro's tendency to slip away if he looked away for even a second. He wasn't going to chance a lapse in attention, especially not with a fire spreading in the building before them.

But Tadashi had forgotten to factor in Hiro's clever, clever brain.

Before he could process what his brother was doing, Hiro had unzipped himself from his jacket and slipped out of it, leaving the item of clothing in Tadashi's grasp.

He gaped at the now-empty jacket. "Wha-?" Tadashi looked up to see Hiro ducking into the space between two people. He did not just - "Hiro!"

"Sorry, bro!" Hiro called over his shoulder, weaving through the crowd and heading for the doors of the exhibition hall. "I'll be in and out, I promise!"

"Unbelievable," Tadashi muttered, shaking his head and staring at the jacket hanging limply in his hand. He stepped forward and struggled through the crowd, apologizing when he bumped into people. "Excuse me - coming through," he said, wincing as he not-so-gently jostled yet another person.

Muttering under his breath at his brother's complete idiocy, Tadashi sidestepped a few more people and peered over the people in front of him. He was almost to the main doors, but Hiro was nowhere in sight.

"Sorry, excuse me!" Under his breath, he added, "Hiro Hamada, when I get my hands on you..." One final squeeze later and he was free of the crowd, hat askew on his head and blazer rumpled. Gasping for breath, he scanned the entrance for Hiro, heart sinking as he realized that his brother was probably already inside.

Ignoring the shouts of the people behind him, Tadashi broke out into a run and raced up the stairs, frantically yelling his brother's name as he went. Easily taking two steps at a time, he reached the top and stretched out an arm for the doors, intending to pull them open and race inside -

But he was sent flying back as the building exploded, the shock wave shattering the glass doors and leaving him sprawled on the ground on the bottom of the steps, out of breath.

People were screaming, and there was general chaos, but Tadashi only had eyes for the fire blazing in front of him, transfixed by the dancing orange flames.

Slowly he registered the ringing in his ears and the sore, achy skin on his face and hands; coupled with the dull ache at the back of his head, the ringing disoriented him and made it difficult for Tadashi to regain his balance.

Placing a hand on the ground to steady himself, the dazed young man shakily sat up and took a fortifying breath, coughing as it caught in his throat. Shards of glass cut into his palm, but the pain was infinitesimal, tiny shreds of sensory information lost in the wake of other, louder stimuli.

Someone grabbed his arm and helped him up, exclaiming, "Dude, that was close! Two more seconds and you would've..." The person went on, but Tadashi didn't hear him; the words were a buzz in his ears.

Stumbling forward, he took a staggering step towards the blazing doors. His vision was spinning and he could barely walk, but he had to get back inside... He had to find Hiro.

"Hey, dude, where're you -? What are you doing?!"

"Let me go," Tadashi muttered, taking another step and tugging at his entrapped arm. "My little brother's in there... I have to get him!"

The person sputtered and pulled him back again. "Wha - are you crazy? Stop, the fire'll kill you! Wait for the fire department!"

Ignoring the person's words, Tadashi wrenched his arm out of his hold and took two more steps, hand outstretched - but several sets of arms grabbed a hold of him and kept him in place, steady and unyielding as stone.

"Let me go!" He choked, struggling to break his friends' grips on him. "Hiro's in there - Hiro!"

Their arms held him tight, wrapped around his arms and his waist as he gasped and fought, straining towards the doors. What were they doing? They knew how much Hiro meant to him! How could they keep him from saving his little brother? Every second of him being held back was another second lost from what little time Tadashi had left to save Hiro, and they wouldn't let him go!

"We can't do anything, Tadashi," one of them - Honey? - said.

No... Not Hiro, please... He shook his head, blinking away tears. "No, we can! He's fine, I just need to find him, there's still time to get him out - get off me!"

Trying to break away, Tadashi twisted his torso to the side, dislodging one or two pairs of arms. He saw his chance and took a step, but his friends grabbed him at the last moment, stopping him in his tracks. "I said get off! My brother - I need to - Hiro!"

Dimly, Tadashi saw the flashing sirens of an ambulance and the fire brigade out of the corner of his eye, getting closer, but all he could hear was the rush and roar of the fire along with his own, too-loud heartbeat, thu-thump, thu-thump, in his ears.

Then a groaning sound split the air, and the stone columns supporting the roof cracked and fell to the ground, shaking the concrete underneath his feet. Numb with shock, Tadashi felt his stomach drop as pieces of the roof began to fall, not resisting when his friends pulled him back to safety.

But a particularly loud crash jerked him back to attention, and he yelled with horror when the building collapsed in on itself, the flames leaping higher into the smoke-filled sky.

"NO! HIRO!"

[2 days since the fire.]

It was raining.

Tadashi stared blankly at the ceiling, bags under his bloodshot eyes. Unmoved since the fire two days ago, his green blazer lay rumpled on the floor, still smelling faintly of smoke. His clothes were surrounded by several shredded pieces of paper, the remnants of a newspaper he'd been unable to stomach. A cooling plate of food - that day's dinner - sat on the windowsill. Outside, the sky was grey, and water dripped against the window, the humidity fogging up the glass.

Patter, pat-pat.

Hiro hated - had hated - rain. He'd always complain - complained - that the rain made the air muggy and feel like pea soup, scrunching up his nose as he dragged the damp tendrils of hair off of his forehead. And if there was a thunderstorm, a bad one, Tadashi would wake up in the middle of the night to find Hiro - face white and hands trembling - next to him, and he would roll over, wrapping his arms around his brother as Hiro snuggled closer...

Swallowing, Tadashi closed his eyes and covered them with a hand. Other than the sound of the rain against the windowpane, the room was unnervingly quiet, and his heart spasmed at the complete silence, protesting against the utter wrongness of it all. The room wasn't supposed to be silent. Hiro didn't do quiet.

If only I'd been a little faster, had kept Hiro from going inside -

Cutting off that thought before it could get anywhere, Tadashi shifted to his side, staring across the room at Hiro's cluttered (Empty, quiet, empty!) desk. Perched on the edge, yellow smiley face drooping to the side, Megabot stared back, somehow looking as lost as Tadashi felt.

Do you miss him? He wanted to ask. Does it hurt, to think of him?

Tadashi was familiar with grief, ever since the accident eleven years ago, when his parents had died, leaving him, Hiro, and Aunt Cass to somehow be a family together. The pain from back then had been enough to make him wish he could curl up and sleep forever, but he'd been able to weather it, overcome it.

The very thought of trying to do the same this time around threatened to drown him.

Because this time, unlike before, Tadashi didn't have his brother to fill his thoughts and worry him constantly. Hiro wasn't here to annoy and bother him to near distraction, with his hare-brained ideas and sudden bursts of genius that sent Mochi flying through the air. There was no messy-haired, gap-toothed brain child that had a million and one questions that Tadashi couldn't even begin to answer, no sassy, bratty, self-confident teen who had everything and nothing figured out.

Hiro was gone, and Tadashi could feel the ache of it down to his very bones.

[3 days since the fire.]

Eventually the silence became too loud to bear, and Tadashi got up, dragging a hand through his hair and down his face. He made himself somewhat presentable and went down the stairs, only pausing, as an afterthought, to grab the white bundle peeking out from under his bed and shoving it into his satchel.

Slipping out the back door and closing it behind him, he took a deep breath and exhaled, his breath fogging as it left his mouth. Outside it was cold, Tadashi shivered, shifting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. Opening the umbrella he had in one hand, he stepped out from under the back porch and into the alley behind the house. With his shoulders hunched against the cold, he made his way through the puddles, willing to go wherever his feet would take him.

Sooner (Or was it later?) Tadashi was walking down a path of worn, well-trod stones, stopping to gaze up at the familiar bamboo sliding door. Faint shouts and sounds of sparring drifted through the thin material, and he closed his eyes and drank in the well-known sounds and sights of his old karate dojo.

He was about to take off his shoes and enter when the door slid open, and Tsuyoshi-sensei looked down at him, one eyebrow cocked.

"Well, well," the man said. "If it isn't Tadashi-kun." Tsuyoshi-sensei's lips were curled into a rare smile.

"Gonbangwa, Tsuyoshi-sensei," Tadashi greeted, bowing. He straightened, and smiled softly. "It's been a while."

Tsuyoshi-sensei snorted. "Of course it has. What are you doing, not coming in? Hurry up. You're letting in the humidity." With that, the man turned and disappeared into the dojo.

Smothering a laugh at the actions of his sensei, Tadashi placed his shoes in the shoe rack and his umbrella in the stand, stepping into the dojo and closing the door behind him.

Tadashi changed and stepped out onto the tatami mats, reveling in the feel beneath his feet. He had missed this, the dojo with its quiet interior and sense of peace. Tadashi could feel some of the weight sloughing off his heavy shoulders. Rolling them, he bent over to touch his toes, drinking in the burn forming at the back of his calves. He stayed in that position for several seconds and slowly came back up, fully intending to stretch properly before even thinking of doing anything.

Tsuyoshi-sensei watched him stretch, occasionally directing an arm or pushing Tadashi a little past his limits. The routine was familiar, and Tadashi soon adjusted into its rhythm, going along as if he had never left the dojo in the first place.

He finished the exercise, and turned to Tsuyoshi-sensei, ready and expectant. But the man lifted a hand, and pointed to a corner filled with old training dummies.

"Let out some steam while I finish up my class," he said, with harsh words and gentle eyes. "No use trying to spar when you're upset." His eyes flicked towards Tadashi's bandaged hands. "No hands, just feet."

Tadashi blinked, then nodded, bowing slightly before making his way to the dummies. Shifting into a position he knew like the back of his hand, Tadashi closed his eyes and exhaled. After a moment, his eyes snapped open, and he spun and kicked, the dummy shaking with a muffled thump.

Something seemed to break free in Tadashi's chest, and he took a step forward and drove his other foot into the material. He kicked, again and again, until he was pummeling the dummy with the full brunt of his anger and frustration and sorrow. Anger at his inability to do anything, the frustration of not being able to move on, and the deep, soul-rending sorrow that kept him up at night and haunted his waking moments.

Tadashi kept kicking until his legs began to tire, stopping only when his calves were burning with the strain and he was sure that he couldn't take another step without collapsing. He stood there in front of the dummy, arms hanging by his sides and eyes wet with tears, taking shaky breaths as he tried to calm himself down.

Behind him, Tsuyoshi-sensei was watching from where he'd positioned himself after dismissing his class, arms crossed and absolutely still. Tadashi waited for Tsuyoshi-sensei to speak up, to snort and make a dry comment about "youth these days"... But the man did not say anything, and just stood there, motionless and silent.

Tadashi couldn't see the expression on his sensei's face, and felt the back of his neck heat up as he realized the extent of his display. He tried to dig up a glib answer about being under stress, but the words froze on his tongue. Instead, he stayed there, eyes on the dummy, staring but not seeing anything at all.

"The funeral's tomorrow," Tadashi finally blurted out. His hands were clenched, his knuckles as white as his gi. "They want me... to give a speech."

Tsuyoshi-sensei stirred, finally moved, and Tadashi could feel his comforting bulk beside him, the well-known weight of the man's hand resting on his shoulder. "And you don't think you can do it," Tsuyoshi-sensei said, voice gentle.

Tadashi closed his eyes and fought the urge to start crying again. "No, I don't."

[4 days since the fire.]

The next day, the rain didn't stop.

Tadashi had managed to keep a polite - if forced - smile on his face, and had blinked rapidly through the various phrases of "I'm sorry for your loss," and "He would have changed the world." At the headstone, he had stumbled through his speech with only a few too-long pauses, breathing through his nose as he had tried not to cry.

He hadn't broken down in front of the guests, and had somehow gotten his words past the lump that seemed to be permanently lodged in his throat. Looking at anything but at his brother's headstone (no body to bury, nothing but an empty casket and an urn full of the building's ashes), he had kept the depth of his grief buried under his sad smile and his quiet words, waiting for a moment alone to let himself slip.

But the moment couldn't come quickly enough. There had still been the reception to go through, and he had taken the lead, staying strong for Aunt Cass, who had been sobbing on someone's shoulder. Faces had passed by and more platitudes had been offered: several classmates, some teachers who still remembered his brother from his days in high school ("He was such a bright boy,"), and a few of Aunt Cass' friends and coworkers that surrounded his aunt with short but heartfelt hugs.

Tadashi had been struck afresh with the realization that his brother didn't have - hadn't had - a lot of friends.

Finally, as the last group of people closed the door behind themselves (Wasabi and Honey and GoGo and Fred, with wide, sad eyes), Tadashi exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders until he sagged, boneless and legs weak, against the doorway. He leaned his forehead against the door, fighting to catch his breath.

After a moment, he pushed himself off, plodding up the steps with legs as heavy as lead and loosening his tie as he went.

Hiro's gap-toothed smile beamed from the pictures on the wall and made his heart ache; Tadashi swallowed and looked away.

Aunt Cass was already upstairs, on the couch in front of the TV, with another box of tissues perched on the seat beside her. Mochi was cuddled in her lap, and the cat purred as she stroked him, her cheeks tear-stained and eyes puffy.

Walking over, Tadashi sat down next to her, wordlessly offering her his arms. Aunt Cass dove into them with another strangled sob, and he rubbed circles into her back as she babbled, listening as her sentences jumbled together into an indecipherable mix, the words Hiro and baby surfacing more than once. The desperation in her voice made the lump grow heavier in his throat, and he swallowed again. Breathing through his nose and closing his burning eyes, Tadashi just hugged his aunt closer.

Later, after he had helped Aunt Cass to her room and gave her one last hug and a quiet goodnight, he went back downstairs, cleaning and locking up. He made sure that the blinds were closed, that Mochi's litter-box was clean, and exhaustedly climbed the last few steps to their (his now, and only his) room.

He closed the door behind him, and then the complete and utter silence in the room rushed to crush him, making him stumble on his way to the bed at the smaller side of the room ("I get to choose first because I'm the youngest!"). The grief he had kept down broke free and surged; Tadashi stood and shook from it, shoulders trembling, before crumpling to the floor, hand pressed against his heart.

The reality of the last few days came slamming into him with the force of a typhoon, and the room was all at once suddenly too big, too empty without the constant presence of his brother. Hiro was gone, and Tadashi began to cry, racking out heart-wrenching sobs interposed with sharp gasps of breath.

He had not cried like this since the horrible night his parents had died, when he had bawled with all the fear and sadness of a eleven-year-old boy whose parents had been ripped away from him. The policeman had come up to Aunt Cass' door with a sad look on his face and with Hiro asleep in the backseat, and Tadashi had refused to believe him, had screamed denials and cried for his parents who hadn't come back, who weren't going to ("I'm sorry, kid, but they're gone.")

This time, Tadashi cried with the anger of a sibling left behind, brokenly yelling curses at the floorboards beneath his fists. He screamed until he was hoarse, sobbing for Hiro and his parents and at the unfairness of it all; his tears fell and stained the wood, the darkened area spreading with each strangled cry.

Moments passed (Hours? Days? He didn't know), and he stayed there on his knees, forehead against the floor and fists on either side of his head. The tears continued to fall, and he continued to slam his fists into the floor and curse his own stupidity until he had no more tears and no more breath. Eventually, his fists bounced weakly off the wooden floorboards and curled uselessly by his head, limp with sorrow and exhaustion.

Like that, Tadashi grieved, crushed with the heavily absence of his brother, of Hiro, crying as the world went on without him.

AN: Hello again... After two months of nothing, here is a chapter edit. There isn't any new content, and I apologize for that.. but RL is keeping me away from story ideas and whatnot.

Newcomers: This is a Alive!Tadashi AU, coupled with a Dead!Hiro AU... It is a twin-fic to New and Old's Cosmic Intervention (link on profile.) We recommend you read the chapters together (my first with her first, etc..) but as we have not updated in a while, well.. You might have to read New and Old's chapters before mine.

I'd like to promise a new chapter sooner or later, but I am not (surprisingly). But thank you anyway for your various reviews, favorites and follows. Apologies to people whose reviews I have not answered - like I said, I didn't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!