Usually Friday nights were peaceful. Well, peaceful served as a rather loose term to describe it. The workstations and hallways of the San Franksokyo Institute of Technology were almost completely silent; if somebody were to drop a pencil, there would almost be a one hundred percent chance that the noise would create an echo. It was a good kind of atmosphere to work in; but that was just the point. Work was still being done, and because of that, along with the silence, there was also a sense of stress in the air. Those who had stayed behind in their labs and set to work were crunching to finish a project, or draw more conclusions from tests runs or experiments. As the students worked, the air fizzled with concentration and stress that usually coexisted with the serene Fridays. As was the routine.

However, some of them were more stressed-out than others.

"I just wish he would understand!" Honey Lemon winced, looking slightly uncomfortable as she shifted on the rolling chair she was currently perched on. She had taken a break from her own work and delved into Tadashi's workstation instead, upon getting too frustrated over the fact that her own project wasn't turning out the way she had wanted it to. She hadn't expected Tadashi, who was usually so laid-back, to be even angrier than she had been.

He paced back and forth, having diverted from his work. His hands were restless, going from wringing in front of him, to running anxiously through his hair in sporadic intervals. He huffed with every other step, and despite the fact that Honey Lemon attempted to reassure him every so often, there was no break of anger in the other's stride as he continued to ramble. "I mean, he's got such a good head on his shoulders, you know? But it's just…it's just like every time he's asked to actually think, it comes across as a foreign idea to him."

Honey Lemon offered him a weak smile. "Aw; I'm sure he'll come around, Tadashi. He just needs time."

"I know, I know," he sighed, stopping short and putting his hands on his hips. He hung his head for a moment, then shook it from side to side. "And I understand how stubborn he is; I've had years of experience in knowing that part of it all. I just…wish it wouldn't be that way. He…he's got so much potential, and right now it's being wasted with what he's doing. You've got no idea how many times I've tried to get him to enroll here, or at least come to visit!" He blew out a huff of air, turning and looking over at his friend in frank exasperation. "He just doesn't understand anything, no matter how hard I try to get it through his skull."

Honey Lemon perked, her eyebrows pulling together as she opened her mouth to reply. But she was beaten to the punch.

"Well, I hope you're not talking about me." The pair jerked to attention at the introduction to another voice. Tadashi, who had been facing the door to begin with, immediately brightened with recognition. Honey Lemon did the same once she spun her chair around.

"Professor Callaghan!" Tadashi greeted, his tone losing its harsh edge at once. The professor grinned warmly from where he stood at the entrance of the boy's lab, turning briefly to nod graciously over in Honey Lemon's direction. The girl grinned eagerly in response, feeling a touch of relief at the sight of the teacher. By the look of it, Tadashi was distracted enough by the arrival of Professor Callaghan. Maybe now he could relax a little bit. As if sensing the girl's thoughts, Callaghan paced slowly into the room, his eyebrows raising good-naturedly. "If this is about the upcoming project, let me remind you that it's only twenty percent of your grade."

Tadashi smiled and shook his head. "No, no, I wasn't talking about you, Professor. I've already finished that project," he said respectfully.

"I see. Well, I look forward to seeing the results. Though I'm sure, going by your work in the past, it will be nothing short of flawless." The older man tilted his head to the side, seeming somewhat concerned. "Though you do seem to be having some sort of trouble. And, of my students, you're not one to lose your head very often. Is there anything that I could help you with? Anything I could…do?"

Tadashi sighed through his nose, grimacing as his shoulders drooped. "Not really, Professor, no. I'm just…having some trouble with my little brother is all."

The elder nodded, a sense of recognition glimmering in the back of his eyes. "I think you've mentioned him before," he recalled slowly. "He's…the young boy that finished high school four years early, isn't that right?"

Tadashi rolled his eyes. "And the one that refuses to do anything else with himself? That's the one."

Honey Lemon smiled tenderly where she lingered on the sidelines. "Tadashi's quite the disappointed older brother," she remarked.

Callaghan only nodded fairly. "A role that is quite understandable."

"It's just that I know he could make so many differences! He's got all this potential, and…" The teenager gestured lamely in replacement of finishing audibly. Then, letting out a huff, he backtracked and spoke slower. "Hiro is such a smart kid but he just doesn't want to stop and think. All he wants to do is take his robot that he made and go Bot Fighting! There's no future in that— not to mention that it's dangerous! He goes out every night and I have no idea if he's going to come back with a warrant for his arrest, or with a split skull! Or even worse, just not at all. If he would just listen to me or Aunt Cass a little bit more, he would just be so much better off."

Professor Callaghan perked, though by the time that he replied, it was not in a sense of repulsion for the boy's conduct, but rather it was for something else entirely. "Bot Fighting?" the man repeated, as if he had never heard of the action before. For a moment he was quiet, not saying anything. He seemed almost confused, sidetracked from his original line of thought. Tadashi started to wonder if he really was ignorant – though it couldn't be the case with him, surely – when the man seemed to shake himself out of whatever mental rut he had gotten into.

His attitude recovered and he smiled again in the boy's direction. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said easily. "Bot Fighting— that certainly is an issue. I should know, too; when my daughter was younger, that was all she wanted to do. Such a stubborn little girl…" His eyes went soft briefly, his words ending in a taper rather than a full stop. Honey Lemon wilted at the change in tone, her eyebrows knitting together in a sense of sorrow. It wasn't uncommon knowledge that Professor Callaghan once had a daughter that had passed away at a young age. People didn't know why, of course— he didn't wish to tell the information, and in turn nobody wished to ask outright when he was so obviously reserved. Such a thing would be a thoughtless, if not downright awful, thing to do.

He shook himself out of his thoughts a second time. Instead he turned to Tadashi, inquisitive and sharp once again. "How old is he now?"

"He's fourteen, sir."

Callaghan nodded. "Ah. That was my daughter's rebellious age too. It passed fairly easily with her; I'm sure the same could be said for your younger brother. You shouldn't worry so much. With a head like that on his shoulders, I'm sure that Hiro will turn out just fine."

Tadashi smiled, and Honey Lemon did the same as she saw that her friend seemed comforted. "Yeah— yeah, I'm sure you're right." Thinking over the assurance, the young boy added quickly: "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it."

He nodded in turn. "Don't worry. It'll all turn out just fine."

Gradually, they diverted from the topic of the younger Hamada brother. Professor Callaghan went on to question Tadashi on what he was planning to turn in for their recent project, and the young student launched into full detail. Once they began to get into the nitty-gritty of the mechanics and robotics, Honey Lemon stood and excused herself from the situation. She bade a 'Good night' to Tadashi, and a 'Thank you' to Professor Callaghan before turning and making for her own workstation.

She could get to work on her own project now— it was due in a week and she really had nothing to show for herself up to this point. Tadashi would be fine from now on too; if not, he had his professor there to help, and he could do more to help the boy than she could.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Tadashi got home late— it was near midnight by the time he walked over the threshold of his home. The lights were off, the café was long closed, and as he walked up to the living room, he could tell by the lack of late-night horror films and popcorn that Aunt Cass had already gone to sleep. He couldn't blame her either, he was almost nodding off himself by now. Stifling several yawns along the way, Tadashi fished something out of the fridge to eat at random, and turned to head up the steps for his room. Halfway up the steps he realized he had fished out a peach that he had thought was an apple, and he was starting to decide whether or not that was a good thing when all of a sudden his thought process was cut off.

Finishing the stairs and walking into his room, the older Hamada brother stiffened at once as he realized that the room was empty. Hiro was nowhere to be seen and it was nearly…well, tomorrow. The idea immediately caused a sense of anxiety to rise in the elder, and, glancing worriedly down the stairs, he resolved to wait rather than just go to bed like he had been planning to. Surely Hiro couldn't be gone for too much longer? And if he was, then he would just be forced to head out into the city and search for him. He couldn't go to bed if Hiro was not in the one beside him— the worry would just keep him tossing and turning.

He went over and sat down on the edge of Hiro's bed so that he could keep his eyes on the stairs. And, momentarily forgetting his late-night snack, he sat upright and waited expectantly for his younger brother to come back safe.

And come back he did— but about twenty minutes after Tadashi had decided to wait. The elder was going just about frantic by this point; in fact, he had just been getting up to run down the stairs when he first heard the small pattering of footsteps break the silence of the house. He tensed at once, his throat nearly swelling closed entirely with the relief he experienced upon seeing his brother plod up the staircase. He looked tired, but at first glance, all Tadashi was cared about was the fact that there didn't seem to be any gaping wounds in his skin.

He wasn't sure whether to run up and hug Hiro, or kick him down the stairs. Standing stifling and resolving not to do anything at first, he crossed his arms over his chest and locked his jaw backwards, his expression narrowing in a sense of anger. It was clear by his stance that he was more than cross, but if Hiro noticed when he looked up, the young boy gave no heed. In fact, he had the audacity to look slightly surprised by his brother's being there. His eyebrows arched, and, almost in a sense of innocence, he tilted his head to the side.

For a moment, after Hiro came to a stop at the top of the stairs, the two brothers just stared at one another, completely silent. The younger brother spoke up first, his eyes flickering down to the fruit that was still in Tadashi's hand, only three-fourths of the way eaten. "We have apples?" he asked.

"This is a peach." Tadashi's voice was flat.

Hiro perked, his eyes narrowing in the attempt to see the piece of fruit better. "…Are you sure?"

"Hiro, where have you been?" Tadashi demanded, not at all in the mood to mess around. This could be a lemon for all he cared. His little brother blinked rapidly in surprise at the sudden demand, but the other only pressed. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" Hiro rolled his eyes, giving a large huff in reply, but Tadashi ignored it, only stepping to the side as Hiro brushed his way into the room and towards his bed. "Hiro, if I've told you once, I've probably told you a thousand times: you need to stop messing around down here! You're gonna get yourself arrested! Don't you know Bot Fighting is illegal?"

Hiro turned to look back at him, putting his hands on his hips. "Bot Fighting is not illegal!" he blustered. "Betting on Bot Fighting…" he trailed off, frowning. Then he shook his head, waving it off dismissively. "That's—that's illegal. But so lucrative!" He brightened like a lightbulb, reaching back into his jacket and displaying a fat wad of money to his brother like one would a medal or an award. "Look at all the money I got! And this is just from tonight! I'm on a roll!"

"You're on something all right," Tadashi grumbled, still not assured in the slightest. "But it's nothing good."

Hiro rolled his eyes again, smirking. "Har-har," he chuffed, turning to his desk and dropping Megabot down randomly. But Tadashi noticed that his little brother took care in depositing the money in one of the drawers underneath. "And here I was thinking you stayed up for me because you missed my lovely company." He spun around on his toe and offered Tadashi a smug little grin. "I'll make sure to remember that I'm not special next time around."

Tadashi snorted, finally beginning to cave. He walked over and reached out, ruffling Hiro's hair in a fond manner. "Yeah whatever. You're a whole different kind of special, you knucklehead." Hiro stuck his tongue out, and Tadashi decided that, at least right now, it would be pointless to go over it all. It was too late and it was obvious that Hiro wasn't going to listen. He never did really, but he was even less inclined to lend an ear when he had a 'good night', as he termed it. And he didn't like to yell— yelling made Hiro even less willing to cooperate.

He did try one last time to linger on the issue, though he kept his voice neutral and collected. "Just keep yourself out of trouble, alright? For everyone's sake."

Hiro was unfazed— his bright attitude did not skip a beat. "Yeah, of course. Totally. I'm fine. Don't worry." He shoved his hands into his pockets and started to head down for the stairs. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick; don't wait up for me. Unless you feel like lecturing again for a few more hours." He added this teasingly, in a way that helped Tadashi to grin wryly rather than to grow aggressive. Of course, he harbored a soft spot when it came to his brother as well, so it was a weakness on his part at the same time.

He stepped to the side so that Hiro could go to the downstairs bathroom. His eyes were trained on the young boy as he traipsed downstairs, and he did not move until the younger disappeared from view. Then he turned, walking over to the boy's desk and fiddling briefly with the robot he had made. But his interest was more in what resided inside of the desk. With a heavy heart, he leaned down and opened the drawer that Hiro had put his winnings inside, heaving a sigh at the sight of all the other bills that had been crammed in alongside.

There was a lot— probably hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Tadashi could tell just by looking at this stash that there was no easy way to this thing. Hiro was getting more and more involved in this— the more his prize money went up, the more danger he was putting himself in. In getting caught by the police, or even getting hurt by someone else. But the more his winnings grew, the less willing he would be to cooperate. How was he supposed to make this work before something bad happened?

The elder Hamada brother sighed, ducking his head and closing his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and willed himself patience. He would stop worrying right now— it was near one in the morning by this point, and all he wanted to do was just go to sleep. He turned and tossed the remains of his peach into the nearest trashcan, weaving around Hiro's bed and delving into his own. If he could stop worrying, then maybe he would be able to finally sleep. It had just been a long day. But Professor Callaghan has said that his project was near flawless, and Hiro was back safe and sound this time around. So, at least for right now, he could stop worrying. And when it came to Hiro and his situation, he just had to keep in mind what the professor had said— it would all turn out okay.

Everything would be fine.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

The next time, things weren't as simple.

It was about a week or two later, and Tadashi was seated on the edge of his bed. He was sketching a few new ideas he was thinking of adding to his project— in grading its project a few days ago, Callaghan had mentioned a few improvements that could be added. Taking those into consideration, he was hard at work— so hard at work in fact, that he hardly noticed the time. He was so engrossed in his notes and bullet points that he was only roused by the small click of a door closing from downstairs. But when he did hear the click, and when he did look up from his notebook, he realized two things simultaneously.

One is that it was 1:15 in the morning. Two was that Hiro was not home yet.

Tadashi was immediately on his feet and walking towards the stairs, admonishing himself mentally for not paying more attention. After everything, how in the world could he have been as stupid as to not realize that his brother was still not home? Stupid, stupid, stupid! He thought of flying down the staircase; it had to be Hiro, right? Unless it was an axe-wielding murderer, then Hiro was the only option. But at the last second he contained himself, keeping rooted where he was rather than rushing into the situation head-first. It wasn't uncommon for Hiro to come back this late, after all. Maybe it was fine. Just another…well, he didn't know— maybe Hiro was just out late on a 'winning' streak.

A swamp of relief washed over Tadashi from head to toe as the form of his little brother began to plod up the steps. He looked tired at first— his shoulders hunched and his head ducked low. It made sense too; it was way too late for anybody to be up. But as he got closer, Tadashi realized with a stab of horror that the source of his brother's slump was not from exhaustion— it was from something completely different. "Hiro!" he cried out, his eyes widening at the sight that met him.

A bruise was fostering itself on Hiro's cheek, the skin looking swollen in comparison to what it normally was. But even that wasn't what Tadashi was focused on. Hiro's arm was raised halfway, pressed up to his face, which was creased over in a tight flinch. The sleeve of his jacket was splotched over in red, a dark contrast against the blue fabric. His nose was bleeding— gushing blood. In his hand was Megabot, but no money whatsoever. At Tadashi's shout, Hiro straightened, immediately freezing under his elder brother's stare.

His eyes widened, and his arm dropped quickly to his side. The front of his face was crusted over in dried blood, the skin around the wound red and irritated. Quickly, as Hiro realized that Tadashi was quickly reddening in rage and concern, he yelled: "It's not as bad as it looks!" He pressed his arm up to his nose a second time, but he grimaced and quickly pulled it away again. "Really, it stopped hurting ten minutes ago! And most of this is just from—"

Tadashi wasn't even paying attention. "Hiro, you'd better tell me what happened!" It was near impossible to keep himself from screaming; he almost felt like he would explode from the mere sight of his brother. But he managed to keep himself in check, knowing that Aunt Cass was fast asleep by this point. And if she was woken up to see Hiro, then all hell would break loose. Then they would have the police barging into their house in less than five seconds. Not to mention the S.W.A.T. team and the F.B.I. Nonetheless, he shook his head quickly. "You have two seconds, or I'm getting Aunt Cass."

"I-It's nothing!" Hiro protested. "It was just— it was some sore loser." His tone dripped with venom and irritation rather than the fright or embarrassment that Tadashi had been hoping to hear. The younger shook his head, flinching as he tried to move past him. "He just…got angry because I beat him too many times. He was a jerk. Can you just— can you move please? I just want to—"

"You just want to what, Hiro?" Tadashi asked, unable to keep his voice from escalating into a sharp snap. Hiro jerked backwards, as if he had been smacked across the face. He opened his mouth halfway as if to reply, but it seemed as though he couldn't get anything out. The older brother sighed, exasperated as he ran his hands through his hair. Hunching over, he rushed towards Hiro, grabbing him by the shoulders and leaning down so that he could get a closer look at the child. His face was torn between anger, fear, and concern. He wasn't sure which one was more prominent. Heaving a shaky sigh, the elder lifted Hiro's chin to see him better. Weakly, he asked: "Don't you see how bad this is?"

Hiro growled, backing out of Tadashi's grip and swatting his arms away. "If you're going to yell at me, you might as well just save it," he all but snarled. "I'm not in the mood to hear you yell." He shoved past his brother roughly and made for his desk, flinging his robot down in its usual spot. Though the motion exuded much more anger than it normally did. "It's what you always do; can you not just save it for once in your life?"

Tadashi sighed weakly. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. When he spoke next, his voice was deflated— almost tired. "Hiro, I don't mean to yell at you a lot. It's just…I care about you. And to see you…hurt, or in trouble…I just can't handle that, okay? I can't handle it, and you know that Aunt Cass can't either." Hiro still looked angry, his lips slightly pursed as he kept where he was. Pressing on, he tried again: "Look, just let me clean you up. Or at least help you. You can't go to bed with all that blood on your face."

Hiro was stubborn. "I can do it myself."

"I didn't say you couldn't, I just said that I would want to help you," Tadashi replied immediately.

Hiro bristled. He held his older brother's gaze, his expression sour. But Tadashi stared just as steadily back. If he couldn't persuade the thick-headed kid, then he was definitely going to help him with this. If it was the only thing he could do, then there was no question. Hiro seemed to realize this after a moment or two, the boy's expression melting as he slouched. "Okay," he mumbled, his voice slightly reluctant. "Fine." His hands were shoved into his pockets, and, his expression sobering, he turned and started glumly for the stairs.

Tadashi shook his head, leaning out stopping the boy short. "Here— let's get this off," he said, indicating the boy's hoodie, whose sleeve was matted and dark with blood. Hiro blinked, looking surprised at the amount that had been absorbed in the fabric. And, thankfully, he actually complied, stepping back and wriggling out of the mess. Tadashi took it from him and deposited it on the ground, making a mental note to wash it when they got back, before Aunt Cass woke up. Again— the less she knew about this, the better.

He made sure that Hiro was following and led the way down to the bathroom. From there he could use a washcloth to get all the blood cleaned off. Maybe scrounge together pain medication; combined with the nose and the bruised cheek, Hiro had to be in a world of pain. Or at least…a neighborhood of pain. Glancing over at him as they veered down the hall, Tadashi had to bring himself to ask: "But you're still not going to stop, are you?" he asked.

Hiro was quiet for a while. His response came only when they got into the tiled room and over the sink. "Why should I?" The question was asked almost innocently, without understanding or concept. At first Tadashi was too floored to reply; he was kidding, right? How could he be so smart and so stupid at the same time!? Tadashi started to reply, feeling a lecture brewing in the pit of his stomach like a storm. But seeing his brother's stare – blank and apathetic – he knew that there was no point.

Frustration burned like fire underneath his skin. Hiro had gotten hurt and it still didn't seem to change his mind and let him see that this whole…lifestyle was dangerous! What would it take!? Right now it seemed like nothing would work. Nothing could get through that thick skull of his little brother's. Bypassing the lecture with a heavy sigh of anger, he just shook his head, grabbing up the nearest washcloth and wetting it down. He used the rag to dab carefully at Hiro's face, trying his best not to aggravate the wounds that were already there.

Every gentle rub earned a grumble or hiss of pain from his little brother. The nose wasn't broken, no; but it was badly injured. His squeaks and noises of pain twisted Tadashi's gut painfully, but he tried his best to keep it to himself. He just concentrated on cleaning up the mess that Hiro had created. And trying not to imagine what would have happened to his baby brother if the beating he had taken had not ended there.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"Yes; these changes are just what I asked for. Good work, Mister Hamada." The praise was warm, approval alive in every syllable of his words. "Good to see that some of my students actually manage to listen every once and a while." The last part was added teasingly as he offered the young man a quick smile. The student beamed widely at the commendation, taking the sketches back and making a mental note to start working on the alterations as soon as he could.

"Thank you, Professor," he said, thrilled. His eyes flickering over the notes one last time, he started to back away from the desk so that he could turn out into the hall. "I really appreciate it." Right about now his friends were probably waiting for him; they had made plans to go out to eat lunch today and he was already beginning to run late. However as soon as he turned and started for the door of the classroom, he was stopped short.

"Mister Hamada, I must ask…" The boy straightened, blinking as he was brought to a stop instead. He glanced over at the clock, feeling a twinge at the time that stared back at him. But he couldn't just leave— not after asking the man to look over his work.

So he stayed put. "Yes sir?" he asked, one hand clenching over the strap of his bag a little self-consciously.

"I was going to ask about your brother Hiro," Professor Callaghan elaborated, turning to organize his desk as he spoke. "How has that situation been going? You were having quite a bit of trouble with him before; is all of that still going on?" He gathered together ungraded tests, organizing them together and making sure that they were even with one another. "I worry personally about all of my students, and you are no exception to that rule. I would like to know how you are getting along with him if you would allow me to do so."

Tadashi sobered, blinking rapidly as he straightened. "Oh…oh, um…" He blanched, grasping for a reply that would be suitable enough. "H-He's…" He frowned, stuffing his hands down into his pockets with a small sigh. Callaghan looked up from his work with this sound, seeming concerned as he leaned forward, his chin balanced on the tops of his knuckles. Tadashi shook his head in the attempt to clear it. "If I'm being honest…it really kind of hasn't." He offered a shrug. "Hiro's just…a really stubborn kid. I wish he wasn't, but…just nothing I say will get through to him."

Professor Callaghan nodded slowly. Though the look on his face was quite the opposite of what Tadashi had expected— rather than looking grave or concerned, there was something akin to fondness in the older man's eyes. "I see. Well…like I said, you don't need to worry. My daughter Abigail was out sometimes from sundown to sunup— but she was a very resourceful and tenacious young girl. Your brother is probably exactly the same from what I hear you tell your friends."

Tadashi hesitated. But after a moment he seemed to recover himself, a smile spreading over his features at the notion of his sibling. "He is, sir. He's very bright— very intelligent. Aunt Cass swears that he'll win some huge award someday, and I can't really disagree. He can be really smart when he chooses to be, right? I know that he's capable and that he can probably get out of any knot you put him in. But it's just— you can never be absolutely sure. What if he meets someone out there who's smarter? What if he needs me and I can't be there for him? I just wish that he could understand…"

Professor Callaghan was nodding. But he remained collected even as he replied. "Your concern is warranted, of course. But you have to remember that you can only do so much for him. Hiro is a child, and a stubborn one at that. Abigail never listened to me, and her attitude only got worse whenever I scolded her. But her 'rebellious' phase was short-lived, I can tell you that much. She came to her senses on her own and realized there was more to life than journeying downtown and getting into a mess of unneeded trouble. She turned her sights onto better things, and that'll be exactly what Hiro does as well. But I think for now you should let him go on. Lashing out, or micromanaging, will only make it worse."

Tadashi pursed his lips, hesitating for a moment or two. But after the brief pause he realized that there really wasn't much he could say in objection. The advice was pretty clear-cut; as per usual when it came to the teacher, there weren't any lapses in knowledge or wisdom. He brightened significantly as he gave a nod. "You're right, Professor. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink." Professor Callaghan grinned in agreement at the old saying. "He'll come around, I've got to believe that. Hopefully it won't be too much longer, though. He'll give me gray hairs by the time I graduate."

The professor chuckled. "How do you think I got all of these?" he asked, gesturing to his own head of hair with the inquiry. "You are in the unfortunate position of having to deal with this kind of stuff much earlier than I had to. But that just means that you'll have practice by the time you actually get children of your own." Tadashi's smile got a touch more awkward at the suggestion, and Callaghan waved the jab off dismissively. "Nevertheless. Don't worry Tadashi. He'll realize that he needs to do the right thing; just give him time."

Tadashi smiled. "Yes, sir. And thank you. Really— I mean it."

Callaghan met Tadashi's friendly stare with his own. "Any time, Mister Hamada."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"Thank you for cleaning up after dinner, honey," Aunt Cass gushed, a gentle smile spread over her face as she leaned over and gave her older nephew a tight hug. Tadashi stiffened, his cheeks blowing out slightly as he hunched over, trying to allow himself to breathe underneath her hold. She was actually much stronger than she looked at first glance. "You're such a hard worker!" Offering him a peck on the cheek – a motion that caused blush to spring across Tadashi's face – the brunette started to take the washed dishes and stack them into the cabinet.

"No, no, don't worry about putting anything away, I've got it," Tadashi assured, nudging her hands away gently. "You cooked dinner— the least I could do is take care of the rest. Didn't you mention something about giving Mochi a bath? You go ahead and do that; I'm sure he's super excited." From where the cat sat near the dining table, he straightened, whipping around to look at Tadashi as he heard his name. The animal soured, obviously not liking the pairing of 'Mochi' with 'bath' thanks to a history of knowledge. He got up, obviously preparing to slink away from the situation and find a hiding spot.

But Aunt Cass was too quick for him. "Right! That's what I forgot! C'mere, Mochi! Good boy, we're gonna have a bath!" Cooing loudly, the woman caught up to the cat before he could dart away. Scooping the feline up in her arms, and turned and smiled sweetly at her oldest nephew. "Thank you, Tadashi." The older Hamada brother nodded in response before going down to his dishes. He was attempting to scrub away a particularly sticky piece of food when there was a series of light footsteps coming down the steps.

He turned and glanced over his shoulder, turning fully once he caught sight of his little brother. Hiro blinked, hesitating on the last stair as he became aware of Tadashi's gaze zeroing in on him. But after a space of reluctance, he turned hopped down to the floor, swinging his arms loosely as he started slowly for the other set of stairs. Tadashi's gaze hardened, not having to wonder at all where his younger brother was going.

Hiro paused, one hand on the railing of the steps as his head tilted to the side. "What? No lecture?" He asked, souring teasing and flippant. When Tadashi didn't reply, Hiro crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows. "Somebody's touchy. Who peed in your cheerios?"

"You know what, Hiro, I'm not really in the mood to talk or anything," Tadashi sighed. "I know where you're going to go, and I know there's no point in trying to persuade you into not going. So…that's that."

Hiro leaned back into his hips, a smile still threatening the edges of his lips. "You're not going to say anything at all?" When Tadashi shook his head, he suppressed a laugh. "Aw, I thought that was our thing. Like our…brother trademark. Now what will it be?"

"Hiro this isn't really something to laugh about, so if you could stop, that'd be great."

The teenager's face fell at the flatness of his brother's tone. He blinked, glancing from the stairs to Tadashi, frowning now. "I was just joking," he mumbled. "Trying to lighten the mood."

"What's the point?" Tadashi asked, his voice almost scathing with how uncaring it was.

Hiro soured a little bit now. "Hey what's your problem?" he demanded.

Tadashi turned back to face him now. "I was just about to ask you the same question, okay?" he asked, his voice still flat. It held no anger, but it might as well have by the look on Hiro's face. It wasn't as if it was uncalled for though— for Tadashi to do anything but support him was wildly out of the ordinary. The teenager had no idea what to do other than just stand and stare as if he had been offended. "But there would be no point to it, right?" Tadashi continued. "You don't care how this makes me feel; or how it makes Aunt Cass feel. You don't stop to think about what Mom or Dad would say about what you're doing. So there's no point in fighting anymore, right?"

Hiro drew back slightly. "That's unfair…"

"Is it?" Tadashi asked, his voice remaining blank.

But the boy's reply was instantaneous. "Yeah; it is. It's really unfair."

He shrugged again, remembering himself to keep to Callaghan's advice. "Oh well."

Hiro's eyes narrowed slightly. He shifted from foot to foot and then opened his mouth as if to give some scathing retort. But he took it back at the last second. Instead he turned around and went down the steps, not throwing a second glance at his older brother as he made for the door. Tadashi's heart was heavy as he listened to his brother leave, at how his footsteps were now heavy and weighted down in indignant anger. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, grimacing tiredly as the front door opened and slammed shut. "That didn't go too well…" he mumbled. "Maybe that was the wrong thing to do…"

But no sooner did the thought cross his mind did he shoo it away. What else could he have done?

He let out a heavy breath of air, shaking his head as he turned back to the water-logged sink. He made a resolution to himself that if Hiro wasn't back within three hours, then he would track him down and bring him home instead of just waiting like he had been. Maybe he could just try and explain himself a little bit more. When Professor Callaghan had given him a roadmap of how to handle the situation, he didn't realize that actually going through with it would be this difficult. He didn't like having Hiro be mad at him; that just wasn't how things worked.

He sighed and shook his head in the attempt to clear it. He glanced over to the clock and made a mental note of the time. When it was 11:02, and if Hiro was still gone, then he would set off after him. He'd find him and maybe explain himself. It was all he could do at this point, really. He didn't need to worry. He just had to trust that Hiro would handle himself. Heck— maybe he would even be back before eleven and Tadashi wouldn't have to do anything. Except apologize, of course. And explain himself a little better if he could.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Fives fights. Hiro had won five fights in a row before he decided that enough was enough. He was starting to feel those angry stares bore into his back from people whose bots he had destroyed, and he could feel the tension starting to fizzle and crack in the air. It's what happened when he kept knocking person after person down— they started to get sore and irritated that a kid had beaten them. Usually he paid no mind to them. Why should he worry about what some adult felt when they clearly couldn't fight a puppy with their bot?

But after the beating he had taken a while ago, he decided that he didn't want to deal with any of it. Especially tonight. He was still vexed from the scene that had unfolded when he had been leaving the house. Tadashi hadn't ever really acted like that to him before— he was cold and harsh almost. Usually he was the exact opposite. It left Hiro feeling…weird. He could handle Tadashi yelling, sure. Frankly, he did it all the time. But acting…like that? It was just…weird. It left him feeling weird, and he didn't like that.

So he drew back from the ring after a while, not really feeling as engaged in the fighting as he usually was. It wasn't fun tonight, so he might as well just turn and head home. Gathering up Megabot and stuffing his prize money down into his jacket pocket, he turned and started back the way he had come. Bot Fights usually took place around a dark corner or in the farthest edge of a back alleyway. In this case it was the latter, and Hiro started weaving through the crowd in order to go back to the main road. From there he could start back for the café.

The young boy ignored the calls that were directed over to him – some mean, some supporting – and kept to himself. It was what he typically took to when it came to these things. He wasn't a 'social butterfly' in regular situations, and his social skills weren't really that inclined to raise when he was put into a place like this. It was quite the opposite really. Keeping his head down and Megabot close to his chest it took him only about a minute to break out to the sidewalk again. Reaching back and drawing his hood up and over his head, the kid looked left and right, biting down on his lower lip. But he remembered the direction quickly and set for the left.

Starting to walk, he looked down and checked his wristwatch. It was almost 11:00 p.m.; he was exhausted. He just wanted to lay down and go to sleep. Usually he was pretty good about staying up, but after doing so for – how many? – weeks, it was getting harder and harder. He was probably going to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and he was bound to stay asleep until about noon. And maybe he just wouldn't go out tomorrow night; he could stay inside instead and maybe…maybe Aunt Cass would want to watch a movie or something. If he didn't go out, then Tadashi wouldn't be angry at him, right?

So then he wouldn't go out tomorrow night. And if it really makes a difference, and if Tadashi would stop being so…odd in response to it…maybe—

He couldn't finish the thought. He didn't have the chance to. Before he could land to the conclusion that he was slowly building up to, an excruciating pain suddenly slammed directly into him. It inserted first into his spine, but then another dose was stabbed through his leg, which immediately buckled underneath the disarming agony. He couldn't even scream; it was too quick of a thing to react to, and it immediately took his breath away on impact. He had nothing left to do but collapse, his leg and back absolutely screeching in anguish.

He hit the ground with a thud, a low groan the only noise that could squeeze itself out of his windpipe. For a minute he was too stunned to register anything but the pain that was throbbing rapidly into life. His eyes were wide and dilated, and he strained to choke air down into his lungs, which seemed almost paralyzed. But gradually, though adrenaline still flooded through his bloodstream, Hiro began to come back to himself. It was bright all of a sudden— really, really bright. A harsh yellow gleam pooled over him, and it didn't take the boy long to realize that he had been hit by a car.

The vehicle door opened and closed with a slam, and Hiro registered a series of footsteps rushing towards him. The boy tried to move, but he flinched, cringing deep into himself as his body creaked and whined in protest. He gasped sharply, tears springing into his eyes. He started to try again, wheezing now as his breath began to come back to him bit by bit. But before he could, there were hands on his shoulders, and he was being turned manually.

He was shifted carefully onto his back; the boy blinked rapidly, struggling to clear the dots that were currently swarming his vision. Frazzled, he struggled to collect himself. He could see the lights of the city around him, yes. And he could feel the ground underneath him. Did I...did I go into the road? W-When? How did…? He was moved again, scraped in a way that whoever was hunched over him was now holding him. His body immediately went into a spasm of pain, and the young boy's face creased over in agony as a whimper was wrenched out of his throat.

"Shhh…" Hiro twitched at an unfamiliar voice— the owner of the car had just run over him. Had it been him that got in the way? Had they just not been paying attention? What was wrong with his back— what was wrong with his leg? Could he move his leg? He was in too much pain to try and figure anything like that out. For a minute or two he was just pinned underneath the weight of pain that a blossoming underneath his skin.

But little by little the initial shock of the blow cleared and he could make sense of things. He was barely in the street where he was lying right now— certainly he hadn't been far enough into the road to warrant getting ran over? The person, whoever they were, was trying to help him apparently, going by the grip that was currently on the young boy's frame. They were in the middle of talking, it sounded like, but Hiro obviously had not been able to hear them from the get-go. Though, taking judgement into account, that part probably didn't matter. "…so sorry! I wasn't even paying attention to where I was going! I was just so…I was looking down at my phone and…" Hiro flinched as another jolt of pain burned up his leg, the young boy forced to gnash his teeth together to keep back a screech of agony. Seeing the motion, the person went on hurriedly: "I am so sorry! You have no idea…"

His eyes were watering from the pain, but despite the fact, Hiro was able to make out the details of whoever had literally introduced him the pavement. They seemed kind of old— their look gave off the vibe of either an old dad or a new grandfather. It was quite clear by the look on their face that they were panicked; with good reason, of course. They had nearly killed a kid just because they weren't paying attention. When Hiro only gave another low groan, the person seemed to perk, stiffening as they asked urgently: "What's your name?"

Hiro's voice was clenched and restrained when he managed a reply. It could only be released through gritted teeth, lest it came out in a scream. "Hiro Hamada." The last syllable sharpened a little bit, a flash of pain lancing up his spine as he was moved slightly. Really, he just wanted to ask whoever this was to stop touching him. One: being held by a stranger wasn't really at the top of your list of 'Awesome Things to Do over your Weekend.' Two: this guy wasn't all that great at the whole 'let's not move him so he's not in even more pain' kind of thing. Trying to keep his voice level but being painfully aware of how shaky and rough it was, Hiro asked slowly: "Could you…could you put me down please?"

The person either didn't hear his mumble, or they deemed it unimportant. "Here, Hiro, let me take you to a hospital." When it was clear that the boy was preparing to object, they only pushed. "Listen, I just ran you over, the least I could do is take you to a hospital and make sure that you're taken care of. You look to be in a lot of pain— please, let me take you to the hospital. I'll pay for everything, just let me take you. Will you let me take you?"

Hiro started to object again. This guy might look like a wise dad, or some goofy grandpa, but it still didn't alter the fact that the boy didn't know him. He couldn't just get in the car with him and let him go wherever. Ever since preschool he had been taught the golden rule of 'Stranger Danger.' But then again, his preschool teacher had not covered the basis of what to do after you had just been run over and were now rendered motionless. Oddly enough, if such a topic were to be squeezed in, the lecture would have probably run into finger-painting time.

There wasn't a lot he could debate against. Either this guy took him to the hospital, or Hiro crawled home and faced the wrath of not only Tadashi, but Aunt Cass too. When Hiro had been in high school, he had gotten punched in the shoulder by an older kid and Aunt Cass had gone straight to the principal and screamed for a good twenty minutes. Imagine the hell she could raise with something like this. And even if he tried to get home by himself, he wasn't even sure this guy would let him. He had enough guilt in his eyes to flood the Pacific Ocean. And if he was paying, then what was the problem with going to the hospital? The pain was killing him and he had only been experiencing it for about two minutes now.

But something still bit at him.

"M'fine," he rasped, starting to move out from the person's arms. Each slight, small movement caused his muscles and bones to shriek back at him, pleading for him to just lay down. He was choking back the need to cry out as he started to sit up. He had never been hit by a car before, and he was quickly realizing that this was going to henceforth be a 'One Time Only' ordeal. How fast was this person even driving? Two-hundred and fifty miles per hour!? "I just need to get home."

Predictably, the other would not have it. They reached out, steadying Hiro as the boy faltered mid-push. The boy blinked rapidly, his eyesight wavering and his head throbbing. The pain seated in his back was like a knife by now, and he could only imagine what his leg would feel like when he stood up. "Let me take you to the hospital, please." They had resorted to begging by now. Hiro's head was hung, and as he stared down at the road, he could feel his stomach clench and heave. He felt like he was going to be sick. "It's right down the street— just a few minutes away. Please just let me take you to the hospital?"

Was it only a few minutes? Hiro couldn't remember where he was at the moment.

The boy agonized for a long moment, both mentally and physically. But eventually he could do nothing but cave. He couldn't make it home on his own, and if they went to the hospital, then he could ask the people there to call Aunt Cass. It was just a few minutes away, right? It had to be. "Fine." The singular word was barely an exhale. When the other person did nothing at first, just stared at him, Hiro raised his voice and said a little louder: "Okay. Take me."

The person seemed wildly relieved by the acceptance. "Okay," they said, their expression slowly growing less weighted down. "Okay, here. Just…stay still. I'll just pick you up and take you to my car, then, okay? We can go to the hospital and from there I bet you've got someone you can call." Slightly reassured by the fact that they were on the same page, Hiro complied and remained still as he was scooped up. The person turned and headed to back to their car, leaning over and opening the passenger side door. From there they placed Hiro gently in the seat, the teenager hissing sharply as his leg was bumped and jarred. Again, the person grimaced and said in a rush: "Sorry, sorry; I'm sorry. Hang on."

They shut the car door and rounded to the other side in less than three seconds, Hiro's pain-filled gaze tracking them as they went. Sliding into the seat beside him and turning the engine back on, the old dad/young grandfather turned and looked at him anxiously, Hiro having turned and looked down at himself in disbelief by this point. The palms of his hands were bleeding after they had scraped across the sidewalk. His very bones felt bruised, and after being winded to such a harsh degree, his breathing came in the form of small wheezes. His back was being stabbed, and his eyes refusing to stop watering in response to the pain, though such a thing was trivial. He was kind of impressed that he wasn't screaming uncontrollably at this point. Though he could not hold back the occasional whimper or groan that squeezed out from his throat.

"Here." Hiro was roused once again by the person, and this time there was no mistaking the sorrowfully-guilty tone to their voice. It was thick enough to swim in. It was enough to make Hiro feel bad for them. "I have some— I always keep some Tylenol on me. For the arthritis. Do you want some? You look in an awful amount of pain; I just feel so bad…"

"I'm okay," Hiro mumbled. "Just…just get me to the hospital, I'll be fine. I don't need any…"

"…Are you sure?" The teenager cringed, feeling a tide of frustration rise up in the back of his throat at the person's voice. They sounded like some kind of kicked puppy. Geez— you think if they would get so worked up over something like this, they would be much more alert when actually driving! He gave a small huff, took one last double-take, and then figured that the sooner he did it, the sooner the person would actually make his way to the hospital. Hiro was dying by this point; certainly the idea of pain medication helped sway him.

Limply, he held out a hand, inwardly scowling. A few seconds later and two small tablets were shaken out into place. Hiro brought his arm back about and was about to knock the medicine back when he paused and took it upon himself to actually look at what he had been given. He wasn't a medical expert, so really the effort was probably wasted. But at least he knew that he shouldn't be eating something that's like…rainbow-colored or purple. If he even had to worry about that with this person. But this person resembled more of a grandparent who would go to their granddaughter's dance recital. Not anything…weird.

Sure enough, they looked pretty normal. They were circular. White. That was enough, right?

He told himself to stop worrying. He opened his mouth and swallowed back the capsules.

For a while the ride was silent. Hiro blinked few times before slouching to the side and leaning against the car door. The only sound was the rev of the engine and the squeak of the brakes every so often as they stopped at red lights. After the initial quiet, the person spoke up, attempting to make conversation. "So…I am assuming that you have a family, Hiro?"

"Of course I do." The reply was rather stiff.

"Well, a young boy like you in the streets, at a time of night like this. Can't really blame me for doubting," the person said quickly. Hiro didn't reply, only staring straight ahead. Another long stretch of silence. Then: "So you do have one then? What are they like? Who's in it?"

Hiro's reply was quick. "Didn't you say that hospital was just a few minutes away?"

"Well, it's only been about three or four…" the person replied, seeming confused.

Hiro didn't reply.

…

"So what were you doing out this late, then?" the person hedged on.

"What were you doing out this late?" the teenager growled, wincing at a twinge in his back.

"I was just running to the store. My wife wanted ice cream, and she told me to hurry, so…"

"So you drove like a maniac," Hiro grumbled.

The person didn't reply. Hiro felt a mix of satisfaction and regret.

…

"You never answered my question," the old dad/new grandfather piped up.

Hiro shook his head. "Look, can we just stop talking? I just want to…" He blinked rapidly, his forehead creasing slightly in confusion. The person blinked, turning and looking over at him in a confused manner. The boy cringed, swallowing thickly as he was suddenly forced to concentrate in order to do so. He started to push off the wall of the car when he suddenly realized that his body didn't react as well to the commands his brain was dishing out. It felt heavy. Weird. And immediately Hiro's thoughts flew to the medicine that he had taken.

No…no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

He turned, forcing his arm to get up off of the floor, the effort making it seem like weights were strapped to the limb as he fumbled for the door handle. "Let me out," he said, his voice heightening with panic. "Let me out, I want out of the car! Don't take me to the hospital, here is fine! Stop the car; let me out!" His vowels were mushing together— slurring as if he was speaking around a mouthful of cotton. He shook his head to try and clear it, but his eyesight just got fuzzier and fuzzier. Against himself, he began to panic. And panic a lot. "Let me out! Open the door!" It was locked, but as he turned and tried to fumble at the locking mechanism, he couldn't seem to get his fingers to cooperate with what he was trying to do.

"Shhh, Hiro it's alright. Stop yelling!" the person urged. The boy thought he felt a hand on his back, but he couldn't be sure. He had fallen still, his limbs suddenly refusing to work as they sputtered out of life. His head was heavy and the teenager began to loll forward against the dashboard, his stomach knotting as a nauseated feeling rose up to cloud the rest of his senses. His eyes fluttered, unable to stay open despite how much he was fighting.

His lips barely moving, but panic still dim in the back of his eyes, he slurred: "What's…I don't…"

The person glanced at him and offered the boy a small smile. "Don't worry," they assured. "You're fine." Hiro blinked groggily, his mouth halfway open as blackness started to edge around his vision. "Everything's going to be just fine. You'll see."

Hiro's neck went slack, his head hanging low. His heartbeat was slow in his ears by this point, and his eyelids slammed darkness all around him. Weakly, pitifully, he tried one last attempt at fumbling at the door, though his fingers were barely able to graze their goal. Instead he was limp, quickly falling unconscious from whatever thing he had assumed was regular pain medication. "Tad…" Why couldn't he move? What was going on? Who was this? Where were they taking him? Why were they taking him? What was going on?

The boy's face creased over in fear and panic, though distantly, as it was delivered through the drugs that were apparently in his system. Just before he was pulled under the full effects, he slurred out the only thing that, to his knowledge, could possibly help him at the moment.

"Tadashi…"

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

A/N: Have you made it this far? If you've made it this far, I am very impressed! I suck at writing like…beginnings and summaries…so…

Thank you very much for taking the time to read this! It's a new idea for a story I've been cooking up, so any feedback at all would be greatly appreciated to see whether or not this could be a full-fledged new project. The inspiration for this story came through the form of a book and a movie I have recently watched, so I'm super excited to get to work on it. Anything you guys have to say would really make a world of difference to me!

Hopefully this can be a rather long project to run with! And if such a thing is possible, then I look forward to seeing you all next chapter!