Bittersweet

Cynthia Cabera slid the headphones over her head before popping open a little package of gummy bears. She was passing time in the cafeteria till it was time for basketball practice.

She hopped atop a table and munched her candy as she rocked her head to the deafening music resounding from her headphones. It reached some of the neighboring kids' ears; they glanced up at her reproachfully, but Cynthia neither noticed nor cared. Sports. Pop music. Those were Cynthia's favorite stuff in her life. Even the simple things were pure bliss after an exhausting day at school. Oh yea, and gummy bears. Her favorite snack. Packages of them filled her duffel bag, backpack, locker and desk. Even their gooey remnants could be found stuck between the pages of her algebra book.

Her easygoing, placid personality loosely reflected her looks: tan skin, made even tanner from several years in sports; tall athletic build; and medium-length blonde hair carelessly tied in a high, messy ponytail. She was content with her everyday, if not somewhat mundane, occurrences in her eighth-grade adolescent life.

She lazily glanced around, then abuptly paused when something - or someone, rather - caught her attention.

Not five feet away from her, a bedraggled little boy stood staring at her with humongous eyes. Amazing, really, how he could stare for an entire minute without even blinking.

That boy. She remembered him. Of course. The same guy whom she saved from the bullies. It's been two days since she came to his aid. In the nick of time, too, because he was about to get pummeled by a gang three times as strong as him...

"Hey, you comin' to basketball tryouts today?" One of Cynthia's classmates, out of curiosity, bounded over to Cynthia, who was stooped over in picking up her school possessions that cascaded out of her overfilled locker.

"Yea," was Cynthia's strained response as she stood back up, her fallen possessions in her arms. "Hey, when is tryouts again?"

"Fiteeen minutes."

"See you there."

"Make sure of that. Our team needs you!"

After Cynthia crammed her possessions back into her locker, she slung her duffel bag over her shoulders and headed over to the changing rooms. It was when she entered the hallway, that she heard something that curdled the blood in her veins.

An agonizing cry. It sounded like it came from one of the empty classrooms.

Cynthia stopped in her tracks. Bullies were probably the source of the trouble. In a nutshell, they were Eastwood middle school's darkest side. She was lucky enough to get out of their way, but only because she was never "involved."But really, that was the best you could do to help yourself. If someone was bullied between the school hours, they were on their own. Standing up to the bullies, even just once, earned you enough taunts, if not beatings from the tough guys, to last throughout the rest of the semester.

But this? The cry didn't sound like it belonged to a middle-schooler. It's sounded like it belonged to a much younger child's. And it sounded pitiful. Too pitiful, even.

She cracked open the door.

Several tough-looking boys - seventh graders, Cynthia recalled - surrounded the tiny victim.

Cynthia peered through the spaces between the boys' tight-nit circle. She blinked in spite of herself. Tiny? No, that was an understatement. The victim who turned out to be a boy, was puny! His mussy raven-black hair stuck out at various sides. His figure was extremely small and skinny, even for someone his size, and his dark brown almond-shaped eyes were wide with fear as he cowered in a corner.

"You may be smart, but that means nothing to us...Asian boy," a dumpy-looking bully sneered.

"Yea! Ha ha ha!" said one of the skinnier yet equally menacing-looking boys, who wouldn't quit laughing like a maniac. "Nerds like you are always good-for-nothin'...Asian boy. Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"Shut it, Ralph!" the dumpy one sneered, before turning his attention back to his prey. "Poor little thing doesn't have his big bwo to pwotect him now, doth he?" he mocked in a babyish voice. He grabbed the little boy by the nape of his shirt and hurled him into the cruel embraces of the other now-laughing bullies' outstretched arms, to which the poor thing helplessly cried out.

"Help!" he whined.

Although Cynthia didn't distinctly see it, she heard a slap resound across the room.

Oh no they didn't...thought Cynthia, quaking in indignation. Beasts!

"So," drawled a third bully. "We'll give you a choice. Our homework, to be turned in tomorrow. Or..." he cracked his knuckles threateningly, "we'll make you."

The next few seconds of silence seemed to drag on forever. Then,

"You know what? You bunch sure don't scare me," the boy piped firmly. I don't care what you guys say. You are not ordering me around to do anything. And I don't care even if you threaten me with my life!"

Wrong move. The dumpy bully instantly pinned the scruffy-looking boy, who shrieked out again, to the wall. The bully raised his fist for the punch when,

"Stop!"

Dumpy's fist paused in mid-air; the gang of bullies turned heads at the source of noise.

Cynthia stood in the doorway, glaring at the troublemakers. She couldn't help it. She didn't want to be involved, but she didn't know how she could stand several bulky-looking guys beating up on a kid, who by the way looked like a kindergartener. A kindergartener, at the least!

Everyone glared right at her; then, the leader punched his fist into his palm and lumbered over to Cynthia, who didn't tear her gaze away from him.

"Ya wanna join him?" he growled and pointed his thumb at little boy's diminished figure.

Cynthia folded her hands across her breast. "Look, at least go pick on someone your own size," she said coolly. "Think of laying a finger on him again, and-"

"You'll what?" demanded Dumpy. "Report me to the teachers? Authorities?" He chuckled, while the rest of the gang copied him. Everyone knew teachers never did anything about the bullying issue.

"No, but there's no way I'm leaving this place till you clear! 'Sides, you wouldn't think of hitting a girl who's a grade above you and knows a thing or two about judo. Hey, I do sports, okay?" She spewed all this out in a confident voice, but inside her heart thumped madly and she was braced to run with all the strength she had.

Imagine her surprise when the leader unpinned his victim and shoved him against the wall.

"Leave the brat here! We're heading out! Now!" he barked to the rest of his gang. He didn't leave, however, without throwing in a string of cursewords and a final threat. "You're lucky we don't even want anything to do with him. But this isn't the last you'll hear from us," he snarled.

Cynthia cautiously approached the child closer. He was curled up in the corner and clutching his head in pain. Bruises lined his legs and arms; grit matted the fluff of hair on his head.

"Um, hey," stuttered Cynthia and reached out to tap him to attention. "Are you all r-"

Instantly the kid's hand shot up and smacked away her own. Cynthia flinched. He shot her a glare mixed with anger and fear before he unsteadily got to his feet, roughly shoved her out of the way and sprinted out the doorway without a backward glance...

For the first time, Cynthia felt a little uneasy. Why did he push her the way he did on that day? Since he obviously took a dislike to her, why was he staring so desperately, so hungrily, at her?

Cynthia looked down. Wait a minute, he isn't staring at me, but at my gummy bears!

"Ummm..." Cynthia didn't know what to say. She was about to bring a gummy bear to her mouth when her awareness of the kid's continuous stare made her pause. She squirmed uncomfortably on the spot.

What's a little kid even doing around here? Hm, maybe he's the precocious type...but wait, would a kindergartener even be studying in a middle school? Honestly, she was so tempted to ask, but she didn't in case it was rude.

A sudden chatter made everyone in the cafeteria turn to the noise. The same gang of bullies entered the room; their presence was only short-lived, luckily, since they were just passing through to reach the closest bus-stop outside. Though not without punching away the first child they laid their eyes on.

Cynthia turned to her little aquaintance, only to find that he wasn't here. She caught a glimpse of his blurry legs at the door before he disappeared. He must've been alerted to the bullies' presence beforehand.

Tough luck, Cynthia thought.

Cynthia trudged back to the cafeteria, duffel bag in hand, after an hour and a half of particularly grueling basketball practice.

She perched on top of her usual spot and dug inside her bag for gummy bears. It's been a week since the mysterious Asian boy approached her. She couldn't say she heard of him.

Or did she?

She might have heard word about a child prodigy coming to this school a month ago. But that was in the changing room, which was the hot spot during the after-school hours for the latest gossip and rumors. She learned not to believe everything they said, so she slipped on her earphones and forgot it all. If she didn't hear any more talk about the matter for the rest of the month, she wasn't surprised. Most of the time she walked around school with her earphones on.

Cynthia's focus span snapped back to attention when her gaze caught sight of that Asian boy again. She nearly toppled over from amazement.

That boy was persistent. Too persistent, possibly.

But this time, Cynthia found it in her heart to pity him. She extended a handful of her gummy bears and showed them to him.

"Here. Take some," she said softly.

The boy's eyes widened, but he didn't move from his spot.

"Ummmm, ok, then," Cynthia chuckled, embarrassed, and set down the gummy bears next by the table. "Take 'em, I don't mind." She gestured to the pile.

Little by little, the boy shuffled closer to her. He looked uncertain of his next decision, but after a moment of debating, he slowly extended his hand to them and snatched them up. He slowly chewed on each one while not tearing his gaze away from the girl.

As for Cynthia, who still couldn't understand his current motives, was about to tap the play button on her MP3 when suddenly,

"Thanks."

Cynthia turned to the kid. For the first time since the bullying incident, he spoke.

Does the guy even speak with anyone? Or is he always that quiet?

Aloud she said, "No problemo, kid."

She slipped back on her earphones, but she only pretended to listen. It would be interesting to hear what else the kid had to say, if he had anything else to say.

He did. "Everyone here is meaner than I thought...b-but you seem really nice," he continued softly.

"Meh." Cynthia shrugged. "I don't do any harm. It's the gang of sumo-wrestling fleabags you want to watch out for. By the way, I didn't catch your name."

"Oh," said the boy, bashfully looking down at his feet. "H-Hiro. Hiro Hamada."

"Cynthia Cabrera." She reached out a hand, which Hiro hesitantly shook.

Cynthia asked, "Wait, are you-" but was cut off by someone else's voice.

"Hiro? You in there?"

Both Cynthia and her little "friend" turned to find a boy standing at the cafeteria doorway.

Ah, Cynthia realized. Tadashi Hamada. She knew him. He was also in the eighth grade. Actually, he should've been in seventh grade, but he was so smart that he skipped a grade. She used to be lab partners with him during physics class and got to know him a little better. For instance, that he was much better in physics than Cynthia could ever be (Considering that physics was Cynthia's favorite and best subject). And that he had a little brother who, according to him, was an absolute genius, much smarter than Tadashi in fact. If so, then Hiro must be...

"Hey, you must be Hiro's big brother," she suddenly said to Tadashi.

Hiro came running to Tadashi, who gently scooped him up in his hands. "Yea...why? And what was Hiro doing here with you?" Tadashi asked with an edge to his voice. He learned to not trust anyone who associated with his little brother.

"Dashi, it's ok," said Hiro, who was sitting in Tadashi's protective arms and had his chubby arms interlocked around Tadashi's neck. "This is Cynthia Cabrera. She rescued me from bullies and gave me gummy bears!"

"Ah, I see," said Tadashi, who did not. Oh yea, of course. Cynthia Cabera. His lab partner from last semester, as well as the non-talkative loner who wore those headphones around the clock.

"Don't you have anything better to do? Like hang out with all your gossiping girl friends and do other girl things?" he continued with the same edge to his voice.

Cynthia, who was too thick-skinned to take such comments personally, simply raised her eyebrows while keeping her usual indifferent expression. "Dude, chill out. Your bro literally came up to me himself. 'Sides, what I like to do with my own time is my own business."

"I see," said Tadashi again.

"And wait, I'm not the one to ask questions like these, but," Cynthia continued, "what on earth do you do after school? Your little brother is running around during these hours and sometimes he is being chased-"

"Dashi is the leader of the robotics club after school!" said Hiro loudly.

Cynthia paused. Maybe Hiro didn't want his brother to know that he was bullied after school.

"Yea, well," Tadashi awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "the club lasts for about two hours, so Hiro stays and does his homework during that time, though it's still really easy for him, so he finishes quickly and gets bored. Sorry if he bothered you, I guess."

Cynthia waved the apology away. "Meh, it's 'k."

Tadashi looked down at his younger brother, whose head was comfortably nestled into his brother's shoulder and who was sleepily sucking his thumb. Tadashi lifted his brother a little higher onto his shoulder.

"Well, we gotta get going, I guess."

"See ya," Cynthia replied.

"Wait, so if I'm correct, you're eight years old and in seventh grade? Seventh grade? Wow. Just...wow," Cynthia breathed in astonishment.

"What, you didn't know that since I came here a month ago?" Hiro replied, gazing at her almost reproachfully.

"Hey, I'm not that stupid." Cynthia shrugged. "I did hear some rumors before, and anyways, I'm oblivious to most of the news around here."

"Yea, I know," Hiro giggled, albeit a little shyly. "You're on your earphones all day listening to blasting music so that even I can hear it from across the room."

"My life, man."

It's been almost two weeks since the Cynthia and Hiro met. True, those two weeks consisted mostly of exchanging unsure glares, plus generous sharing of extra gummy bears on Cynthia's part. And Cynthia didn't always have extra time to spare. Cynthia had both tennis and basketball practice, so it was harder for her to merge sports in one day. She balanced the schedule times by adding in tennis only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Even then, the practice times for basketball varied. But more often than not, she could be found hanging around early enough during Mondays, Wednesdays and sometimes Fridays.

This time, Cynthia was waiting for practice by finishing up some algebra homework. Then naturally, Hiro came up to her again. Despite being in seventh grade, he secretly was as talkative as many other little children his own age. Cynthia knew more a little more about his life each time. For instance, that the owner of her favorite cafe was actually the Hamada brothers' aunt. And he had to share with his brother's lunch because his own was frequently stolen by jealous classmates. And sometimes being a genius could be a little burdening, obviously.

"So." Cynthia invited Hiro over by patting the spot next to her. "I think I can believe what you just said. But at the same time...I can't." Cynthia splayed her hands up in exaggerated incomprehension.

"That's what people always say," said Hiro glumly. "No one believes me till I prove that the material they give me is way too easy!"

Cynthia didn't know what to say to that statement, so she bent over her algebra problem and didn't answer. Today, her homework was to solve a systems of equations based on word problems. She popped some gummy bears into her mouth and chewed them contemplatively.

Hiro, meanwhile, stood up and stooped over Cynthia's shoulder to get a better look at her work.

"The y-intercept is 30, not 42," he corrected her. "Oh, and if you were wondering, the slope for the line is 8."

Cynthia choked on her gummy bear.

"And you know, for someone good at physics, you're bad at math," Hiro pointed out.

"Kid, don't judge," said Cynthia when she recovered, both from her clogged throat and awe at Hiro's high level of intellect. "Bad math teacher."

"Kind of ironic that San Fransokyo has the best schools and and it doesn't even have a good math teacher."

"Yup." Cynthia checked her phone. "Whoops, gotta run." She dropped her algebra folder, picked up her duffel bag and sprinted into the changing room without a backward glance.

And Hiro was left alone. That could've meant the start of boredom for him, had he not noticed Cynthia's worksheets lying askew on the table. Only half of them were completed, and even these parts looked worn with tons of tears and eraser remnants stuck to the margins.

She had a C+ on her Algebra score, did she say?

Hiro knew what to do at this point.

Cynthia came out of the changing room five minutes later, clad in shorts and a basketball jersey. Hiro was nowhere in sight, which puzzled her slightly, but may have figured out the cause for this when, after practice, she stacked up her algebra homework papers together and saw some handwriting that wasn't hers pressed into the sheets. Several numbers that labeled the number of her completed problems were circled, and the blank spaces below the unsolved problems - solved.

The kid didn't simply solve my homework for me just now, did he?

She was afraid that she'd have to wait till another day to confirm that question.

Two days later, Hiro gave Cynthia another visit, which was her perfect chance to resolve her burning question. "Ok, so I want to ask you something else now. Those problems you solved for me last time. Did you really do my homework in such a small amount of time?"

Hiro made a small nod. "You're not mad?"

"Amazed beyond belief I am; mad I am not," she assured him. "And it takes ME an entire hour, maybe two, to complete my Algebra homework. Why did you even do that?"

"'Cause - 'cause you seem like a real nice person," said Hiro, blushing.

"Umm, ok," Cynthia chuckled, not sure what to make of the compliment. "Really, you didn't need to. I mean, it saved me time, but you don't have to do this for me."

"But I was bo-o-ored!" Hiro moaned. "Besides, you are awful at math."

"Can't help it." Cynthia shrugged as she snapped open her can of XS energy drink. "If you're a jock, like me, you're better at sports than at Algebra."

"Well, you need help!" Hiro stated. "And I can help you!"

Cynthia spluttered over her drink. "What! You? Help me? Um, kid, I'm fine, really, I can cope."

"But you really need help!" Hiro persisted.

Cynthia sighed and set down her soda. It wasn't that she was too proud to let an eight-year-old genius assist a thirteen-year-old like herself. It was that she already lost hope in ever finding anyone to pull her out of the dark, confusing realm of math.

"Ok, kid," Cynthia gave in. "When are you available?"

"Anytime after after school before five!" said Hiro merrily, bouncing in his seat. "How about you?"

"Hmmm. I'm available probably on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and most likely before four," she decided. "However, my schedule does vary, so I'll keep in touch, ok?"

"Yay!" Hiro squealed in happiness.

"And kid, I already think you'll make a potential tutor, so it makes me feel bad for not paying you back somehow."

"Hmm... How about gummy bears?" Hiro made an innocent gap-toothed grin at her.

"One package for each lesson, dude. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal!" And both children shook hands. Despite Cynthia' seemingly impassive exterior, she couldn't help smiling at his cuteness.

"Here you go." Cynthia's classmate, who sat in front of her, turned behind to pass Cynthia her test results. Cynthia took it and eagerly scanned the front page.

An A-.

Cynthia really pulled up during those last three months.

"Yes," she breathed.

"What was your grade in the test?" Cynthia's classmate, whose name was Maya, leaned over to inspect Cynthia's result.

"Wow," Maya stated admiringly. "And I got a C on my test - again," she huffed. "How did you get so good?"

Cynthia allowed herself a small smirk. "Math tutor."

"From whom?"

"Hiro Hamada."

"Wait - you are actually taking lessons from that nerd freak?" said Maya so loudly, that everyone within reach turned their heads to her.

"Aw, you're just jealous," responded Cynthia cooly.

At that moment the bell rang, and the air was suddenly packed with shuffling, chatters and the teacher's last-minute reminder that she was not accepting requests for test retakes.

"You're a freak, Cabrera! You're a goat freak who belongs with the nerds!" Maya shouted. Since she knew Cynthia's last name meant "goat" in Spanish, she added that insult as an extra-hard jab. She pointed at Cynthia accusingly, taking several steps backwards before she turned and bounded away from the classroom.

"Oh, suck it up, hippie!" Cynthia retaliated. If "goat" was insulting to her, "hippie" was one of the best comeback insults on her list.

As though that wasn't awkward enough, Cynthia suddenly jerked forward when she felt a heavy weight being thrown upon one of her legs. She looked down. Hiro was clinging to her and staring up at her, fright reflecting in her eyes.

"Hide me, he whispered, and grasped her even tighter.

"Who - what-" Cynthia looked up and the message instantly came across to her. The same gang of boys, whom Cynthia stood up to a long while ago, came looming up to both Hiro and Cynthia. The leader, especially, cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"Haven't I promised you before that this isn't the last you'll see of me?" he leered. "Hand over the kid or we'll make you."

"Make me? Yea, right," Cynthia said sardonically and rolled her eyes. "Are you boys out of your minds? Or rather, out of good insults, finally?" She lowered herself down to Hiro.

"Get behind me, and they won't hurt you," she mouthed.

Cynthia looked up, just in time to feel the dumpy leader grab her by collar and to throw her against the wall. He was about the strike the punch when,

"What is going on here?" The algebra teacher(who finally noticed that something was happening outside her classroom) cut into the spectacle. The remaining onlookers who witnessed the row dispersed. And, before the teacher could ask any more questions, so did Cynthia, with Hiro in her arms, down to the cafeteria, where she had better chance of finding refuge there.

Moments later, Cynthia set the still-shaking Hiro down on her usual cafeteria table and roughly shook him by one shoulder.

"Hiro. Where on earth is your brother?" she snapped while rubbing her sore head. Those bullies weren't joking when they threatened to strike.

Hiro avoided Cynthia's furious gaze and didn't reply.

"Answer me, Hiro! Please!" There was something not quite right about Cynthia's voice. Hiro dared to take a peek, and his suspicions were confirmed: Cynthia sounded like she was about to cry. Her voice was choked with tears. "Answer. Me. Now. I need to find your brother so he can pull you out of such situations. Don't come running up to me, do you know how much trouble we are in now because of you? Those bullies, they-"

"I don't need my brother," Hiro replied.

Wait - what?"

"I told my brother I can take care of myself for now," said Hiro shortly. "I don't want to be dependent on anyone's help."

"But aren't you still bullied?" Cynthia asked.

Hiro didn't answer again, and that's when Cynthia knew.

"You're...covering it up, aren't you?"" she said suspiciously. "You're not telling anyone about this bullying issue! See what happened today? Don't just come running to me when the bullying gets out of hand. Go tell your brother instead! Why would you want to hide these things from your brother? "

"Oh yeah, and why do YOU care so much about my well-being?" Hiro argued. "No one in this school cares whether you're hurt or not! No one, Cynthia!"

"I-I-," she faltered. She responded by leaning down and grabbing both his shoulders so he could reach eye-level with her.

"Because," she said seriously, " I DO care, Hiro. When you came up to me that first day, in need in good friends who'd stick up for you, you taught me a lesson about myself. For the first time, I cared about someone else besides myself. But the thing is, my life before then was so dull and I had no friends like you, right? Now, thanks to you, I have better math grades, communication skills, and best of all, someone to care about. That's the meaning of friendship, Hiro. It's when you want to care. And I have been void of that feeling for so long."

Cynthia ended to the sound of sniffles coming from Hiro. Tears welled in his eyes. The next moment,

"Eugh! Wow, kid! What are you-?" from Cynthia, who nearly toppled over from her spot. For Hiro had gratefully thrown himself onto Cynthia and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck.

"And I care about you too. You're a great friend," he murmured in her ear, not loosening his grip for even a moment.

For such a tiny little doodad, he can sure squeeze tight, Cynthia thought, who couldn't do anything else other than clumsily reach over and pat him consolingly with one hand. With a sidelong glance, she noticed students, sitting farther off in the cafeteria, stare at her and aww-ing at the cute if not awkward moment. But Cynthia wasn't really looking. No, she had her eye on someone else, who was smirking at her and Hiro.

Tadashi.

WWWHHHYYYYYYYY?!

Cynthia abruptly pried Hiro's fingers off and pointed at him while spluttering an explanation. "I- he- I mean-"

To her relief, Tadashi chuckled as he came closer."Hey, Hiro."

Hiro whipped around to face his older brother.

"I didn't know you made a friend, here," Tadashi continued, and gently took Hiro from Cynthia's arms, who sighed in relief. She wasn't exactly used to hugs, even by little kid standards.

"Yea, well," Cynthia shrugged with her usual nonchalant attitude, "kid's become fond of me over the months, what can I say? What with me needing some math lessons, and him needing protection from bullies..."

Tadashi grew more serious. "Exactly the reason I came here. I was tippped off about the bullying back there. You guys all right?"

Cynthia gave him a thumbs-up. "It's cool."

"And Hiro," Tadashi said.

"Yes?"

"Next time, alert me when you're getting hurt, okay?" Tadashi gazed down at him sternly, but a smile twitched at the corner of his lips to show that he wasn't mad.

"Ok, Dashi."

Cynthia hem-hemmed to bring their attention back.

"So, um, Tadashi, you don't mind when Hiro comes up to me, right? I mean, him being kinda lonely and you being kinda overprotective too..."

"Eh," Tadashi waved it off. "It's all right. Kid must really have taken a liking to you or something." He smirked over to Hiro.

"But I do, I really, really do," Hiro stated, nodding vigorously.

"Also," Tadashi continued, "as you know, I'm busy after school, so technically, I have you to thank for looking after him. And befriending him. Even though he's way younger than you..."

"Oh, pfft." Now it was Cynthia's turn to wave the comment off. "Everyone already thinks I'm a weirdo, and anyways, he's totally above my intelligence level. I know, I checked."

"Right." Tadashi nodded approvingly. "Well, I'll be going now. And this time, until further notice, Hiro's sticking with me."

Oh, come on, Dashi, I'll be fine," Hiro grumbled. He looked over hopefully at Cynthia.

"Sorry, kid. Basketball practice is on in a few minutes, so I can't look after you. But Tadashi will," she said sympathetically, ruffling up his already-messy hair.

"Are you available before 5 o'clock?"

"Sorry, I'm leaving early. I'm having relatives over."

"Ok. Bye, Cynthia."

He ran over to her and gave her a last hug (He hugged her legs, more like, because she was so tall and he so tiny.) before Tadashi amusedly took his little brother by the hand and led him off.

"Wait!" Cynthia cried.

The Hamada brothers turned to her.

"Here." Cynthia pulled out a small package of gummy bears from the side pocket of her bag and tossed it to Hiro, who gratefully caught it. She smiled at both the Hamada brothers - a genuine smile this time - and waved at them before spinning around and bounding out of sight.

"Hiro, for the last time, be careful before you cross the road!" Tadashi chided after he pulled Hiro back onto the sidewalk and to safety before he got hit by an incoming truck.

"S-sorry, Dashi," Hiro mumbled.

The pedestrian crosswalk lights turned green; Tadashi gripped Hiro by the elbow and guided him across the road. Both brothers were headed on their way home, which, by walking length, wasn't very far from school. Both brothers, as usual, discussed robotics, the pressures of school and the latest science innovations, but mostly robotics, while hurrying along the traffic-packed streets of San Fransokyo.

This time, Hiro raved about one of his latest inventions he built at home. Granted, he could've participated in Tadasshi's robotics club, but he always complained that it was "too easy" for him, so he was content with build at home and construct something advanced way beyond his years, along with Tadashi by his side.

"Hey, Tadashi, so check this out - it can predict the weather, act as an alarm clock, uphold a sensible conversation with you when you're alone, and do all these useful things and still act as your virtual best friend!" he exclaimed while hopping up and down on his spot.

"Interesting," replied Tadashi thoughtfully. "But you never showed it to me before."

"Well, it's roundish, and it has this metallic exoskeleton. Except I coated the surface with fake fur and added robotic eyes and twitchy ears and a tail, so it sort of looks like a robot version of a Hello Kitty -"

"Wait, since when have you been making Hello Kitty bots that, by the way, work as well as last year's ipod brand?" Tadashi asked suspiciously.

Hiro gasped and clapped his hand over his mouth. He revealed too much.

"Ah, wait, so it's for that friend of yours? I see, I see," Tadashi laughed good-naturedly. "You're quite the charmer when it comes to girls, aren't you."

Tadashi received a punch in his side from Hiro.

"She's just a good friend!" Hiro said angrily. "So what she's a girl? I'm ok with girls as long as they don't start calling me cute and mush like that."

"Yea, I know. But that Cynthia girl is more on the reserved side. Rather easygoing, too. You chose a good friend there, Hiro. Though, isn't she more interested in athletics than mechanics?"

"That's ok," Hiro responded quickly. "She's still really cool. She used to care only about herself, but when she protected me from those bullies..." Hiro sighed happily.

Tadashi wanted to say something scathing in reply. What, didn't his older brother matter as much anymore? But before he could react, he halted on the sidewalk. Both he and Hiro gasped simultaneously.

"Whoa," breathed Hiro. "What happened here?"

Before them lay a catastrophic scene. Two cars, ruined and immobile, stood at one part of a cut-off street intersection. One of the cars had apparently rear-ended the other, because the bumper, as well as most of its front, was mushed hard against the rear of the front car. Greyish fume drifted out of both of the car's wrecked hoods. Police cars with flashing beacons, as well as several ambulances and a fire truck, were parked in circles around the car crash.

Tadashi clicked his tongue in sympathy.

"Come on," Hiro said, tugging his older brother behind him. "Let's take a look."

The car crash looked more horrifically intricate once the Hamada brothers neared it. Equally appalled passer-by stood and pointed outside bright CAUTION ribbons taped around the area. Some others, who were probably witnesses still shocked from the aftermath of the accident they just saw, gibbered out every question the reporters fired at them.

"Um, excuse me, ma'am." Hiro gently tugged at one woman reporter's sleeve.

The woman, who was jabbering away with one officer, broke off the conversation.

"Yes, sweetie?" She smiled down at him after glancing around for her inquirer.

"Can you tell us what happened over there?" Hiro asked shyly.

"Ah, of course." The reporter's face suddenly turned grim. "According to observations from our witnesses, a skateboarder forgot to look both ways before crossing the street. Naturally, a car hit her before it could stop. Then it got rear-ended by another car, as you can see here."

"Is everyone all right?" Tadashi asked.

"The drivers have a few minor injuries and are still in shock, but other than that they're all right. The girl who got hit, however, wasn't so lucky..." The reporter sighed and dipped her head in pity. "She was too young to die..."

Hiro cringed. Tadashi at that point noticed a group of people ahead of him. They looked extremely distressed. One woman was weeping into a man's shoulder.

They must be the girl's family.

And the couple must be her parents.

But why do they look so familiar?

A terrible thought struck Tadashi. He sprinted off to the group's direction; Hiro followed behind after shouting a word of thanks to the reporter.

"Um, sir! Miss?" Tadashi impatiently called out to the mourning couple. The assumed mother was too immersed in her sorrow to reply, but the father perked up and glared wearily at Tadashi.

"Sorry, I just wanna know one thing. What's the girl's name?" Tadashi asked forcefully, too demanding to remember his manners.

The father hestiated, then opened his mouth to reply.

And Tadashi somehow knew the answer right before it hit him.

"Cynthia Cabrera. Why?"

"Dashi?"

"Hmm?"

"I miss Cynthia."

"Sucks, huh?"

After coming home that afternoon and pouring out the entire tragic tale to Aunt Cass, Hiro secluded himself in his room and refused to talk to anyone. He was very reluctant to eat his favorite dinner, comprised of spicy chicken wings and and rice-balls. During bedtime, Hiro seeked consolation from his older brother by snuggling up with him in bed.

"If only people didn't have to die so much," Hiro continued, sniffilng. "It was those stupid earphones that killed her. She must've turned them up to the max and didn't hear any cars coming her way. A miserable way to die."

Tadashi patted his little brother as the tears fell. Tadashi, who was a genuinely good, caring guy, couldn't ignore that haunting feeling of pity in the pit of his stomach. Will her parents ever recover from their loss? Will anybody miss her at school? Not like HE knew her well enough to miss her much, but still.

"Maybe one day, I'll make a robot that will save people from danger," Tadashi thought aloud.

"Teehee!" Hiro tittered weakly. "Sounds so superhero-ish. And maybe one day we'll become friends with that robot and become superheroes together!"

"Think of how many people we'll help! To help people sounds like a worthy life goal, little bro."

"And people won't have to die so much..." Hiro trailed off.

All was still for another minute - until Hiro spoke up again.

Tadashi?"

"Hmm?"

"I was just thinking: do you think Cynthia's death happened for a reason?"

"Perhaps. And maybe - I'm just saying MAYBE - it means we should spend more time together. And I'm working on you there, Hiro. You're still a little antisocial. You've been ignoring even me these days."

"Maybe you're right."

"I'm even considering ditching robotics club to be with you more."

"Oh, Dashi, you can't-" Hiro cried loudly.

"Hush, Hiro, you'll wake Aunt Cass!" Tadashi hurriedly waved him down. "And yes, my mind is set on it."

"But you love it so much..."

"Oh, pfft, Hiro, did I ever tell you that robotics class is easy compared to what you and I can really whip up at home?"

"Really?!"

"Trust me, it's more interesting with you, bro. I was only in charge of that club because my other robotics classmates begged me to be leader. At least for a little while."

"Yay!" Hiro said, cracking a smile for the first time in hours. "I feel much better now."

Glad to know, little brother," Tadashi responded, and yawned. "You can stay here if you want, but I'm going to bed now. Please try to get some sleep."

"'K. G'night."

And sleepy Tadashi turned over to get into a more comfortable position. He became annoyed when he heard a certain rustling from his brother's side.

Tadashi turned around to find Hiro toying with a tiny package that he pulled out from his pajama pocket.

"Quit the noise, will you? And what's that?" Tadashi grumpily asked.

"It's- it's-" said Hiro quietly, not bothering to finish the sentence.

A package of gummy bears.

The same one Cynthia Cabrera gave him when he last saw her.

- I know, this story is a little sad(Cuz I'm this nasty pessimistic overdramatic person who likes writing tragedies ;'W). I don't know how authentic my writing is, but just in case it induced a few tears, I do apologize! But hey, the brothers became closer at the end... *sniff* So the story still kinda has a happy ending...right? *Sniff sniff*

- This story was actually based on my association with cute and amazing little kids. So that got me thinking, "What would the story of adorable kid-genius Hiro be like when he was little? Did he make friends? Was he bullied?" Hence *gasps with inspiration* my story.

- I was actually reluctant to add in an OC here at first(Because I dislike most OCs). But I thought focusing solely on the brothers would a little boring and cliche in THIS story. Therefore, I wrote this with a more original idea of how Hiro and Tadashi became closer brothers...and why Hiro likes gummy bears.

-Thanks for reading!

KoolKat