Chapter Text
Hiro put the cigarette to lips and took a long drag.
He remembered the first time he had ever smoked. It was at a college party that he probably shouldn't have been at with Honey Lemon, whom he guessed had forgotten he was only 15 at the time. She honest-to-God thought it would cheer him up, since it was around the year anniversary of his older brother's death and he was not doing well. The party was foggy feeling, and it smelled like cheap alcohol, marijuana, and body odor. Hiro had wondered why Honey would go somewhere like this.
At the party, a young woman with bright pink hair handed him a cigarette from the carton in her hand.
"Your vibe don't seem mellow, bro. Take this. I'll light it for ya." She pulled out a metal lighter with flowers painted on it, sparked the flame, and brought it to his cigarette. "Suck in it, man. I hope your night gets better." Hiro concluded she was stoned as hell, since the stench of pot wafted off her and her eyes looked red.
He drew his breath in and felt smoke hit his inside, like someone shoved lava down his throat, the he started to feel light headed. He couldn't decided whether or not he liked it, but it felt good enough. Of course, Honey found out, scolded him in a mix between English and Spanish, and swore never to take him to a party again.
He was 19 now, the same age his brother was when he died. It was getting to be that time of the year again, where he was too depressed to get out of bed and even bother to be active at the college, or join in protecting San Fransokyo The time of the year he'd come home so drunk, he couldn't remember his middle name; the time of the year he'd smoke a pack a day. He'd get into fights with his aunt over it, knew it was disrespectful to her, but he couldn't help it. Every year, Cass had threatened to throw him out for making her house stink, or for underaged drinking, and told him he how Tadashi would be ashamed of him and the way he dealt with his life
The black haired young man leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, taking another drag.
He had grown to be taller than his aunt, Cass, and he was fairly certain he was the same height that Tadashi was. However, unlike his brother, he stayed lithe and thin, probably from his large aforementioned smoking and nicotine addiction. He was strong, of course, but his arms weren't as thick as his brother's were. He was still bony as a skeleton. He had also modified his appearance in ways his brother would have had a fit over.
From the moment he had turned eighteen, Hiro hadn't getting stopped getting tattoos. On his left hand's index finger, he had gotten Baymax's face, and curled around his right forearm, a water serpent. It didn't help he was planning to get forget-me-nots along the tops his collar bones. When he was seventeen, he shaved half of his head without his aunt's permission, getting him into all kinds of trouble.
It was Autumn, and the city was chilly. Hiro zipped his hoodie up and flicked his dead cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. He walked inside the Lucky Cat Cafe, where his aunt was working.
The cafe was mint green, with a pleasant scent of bread and coffee and a warm ambience filling the air. Cute looking, lovey-dovey couples and studying college students filled the seats, giggling and chewing on pencils respectively. The whole scene made Hiro uncomfortable. He instinctively walked to the counter to see if Aunt Cass needed anything
"Hiro Hamada! You reek of cigarettes!" His aunt scolded him while ringing up an order.
"I was smoking. I'm not going to smell like fuckin' daisies." He replied bitterly.
"Watch your tone, and heat the oven to 350. I'm making a pizza." Cass commanded him.
Hiro walked upstairs to the kitchen, turning on the electric oven on. He alternately cursed and thanked it for not being a gas oven, or he might have shoved his head in it at the age of fourteen.
He walked from the kitchen to the living room and threw himself on the couch, burying his face into the pillow. Memories from the day Tadashi died washed over him like a black and bloodied wave.
Hiro woke up, a tad panicked. He had an IV poking from his arm and cuts, bruises, and burns scarring his skin.
"Tadashi! Aunt Cass!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Tadashi!"
A tall doctor with long red curls stepped in his room, his aunt following.
Hiro started could smell the hospital from memory, and dug his nails into the couch.
"Hiro, darling, Tadashi can't come in." the small brunette's mascara dripped down her cheeks, mixing with her tears.
"Why? How badly was he hurt? I told him not to go in there!" He demanded to know where his patriarch was.
"Hiro, he didn't make it out of the fire alive. He died."
"God fucking damn it." The man sat up, and rubbed his face in frustration. He couldn't handle these flashbacks he had.
"Hiro, honey. What do you want on the pizza?" She asked his gently.
"I don't care, I'm not hungry." He replied calmly.
"Maybe if you wouldn't smoke so much, you would be." Cass scolded him. She didn't approve of his habit, but didn't stop him anymore; he was of legal age and made the choice himself.
"I'm sorry, smoking makes me forget about my hot mess called my life." The black haired man's words stung his aunt, and guilt froze his insides.
"Your life is a hot mess? Your life? Did you raise two children you were not prepared for? That were your dead sister's children?" Cass rebutted him. "I understand you lost your brother, but you are going out, getting tattoos, getting wasted and stoned, smoking your lung away, and that's not going to bring him back."
Hiro looked away from his aunt's eyes.
"You won't listen to me or even look me in the eye. You treat people terribly and you disrespect me in every way possible. I'm done threatening to kick you out, because it doesn't work. I'm just done." Cass then delivered the killing blow. "Your brother would be ashamed of you."
"Fine." He wanted to cry and fall into someone's arms but that someone wasn't here. That someone would, according to his aunt, be ashamed of him. He hid his emotions behind a robotic facade.
Hiro got up from the couch and walked to his room. Mochi ran between his legs. She was slowly becoming an old cat, with grey around her muzzle. "Go away, cat."
In his room, he fell to his bed on his back, stretching his lithe form and pulling his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. The nicotine felt nice to his brain and the smoke easied his eyes closed, covering him like a blanket. He knew the room was empty, but for some reason, he was sent back to how it felt when he was 13. He felt like Tadashi was in the room with him.
"Motherfucker." he sighed and thought about the choices he had made. The skinny man decided it was for the best if he popped into the lab tomorrow to work on some sort of a project and to sate his friends' need to check on him.
It was completely silent and still in the room after he uttered the words, when an action figure fell to the floor, and another following.
He got up and placed them back on the shelf and her turned away, just to hear them fall again.
"Well, fuck." Hiro repeated his actions, just to have all of them fall at once.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ!"
He started to pick them up when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Look, Aunt Cass, I'm sorry I've been such an ass lately, I--" He turned to find his gut's prediction right, and found older brother behind him, dressed the same way he was the day he died, as a faint apparition, like the smoke from his cigarette in his mouth.
"Hiro," He sounded like he was beginning a long speech on responsibilities.
"Tadashi?"