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It was during his last year in high school when Hiro realized with much horror that he was going through the wretched stages of puberty, it didn’t help that he was fantasizing about his older brother jacking him off. At first, he’d tried playing ignorant, pretended that everything was fine—but his body wasn’t fond of being repressed of its desires and Hiro would often find himself in a difficult situation whenever he was physically close to Tadashi.
The worst had to be during family dinner with Aunt Cass and Uncle Thor, who brought his brother, Uncle Loki (whom Hiro really thought was cool). Everything was fine, he didn’t even bat an eye when Tadashi announced he’d made pie—the one that Hiro liked but it was easy to ignore his older brother’s sparkling eyes, firm muscles and warm smiles when he was wrestling with his dad, uncle Thor and Peter for a slice of pie.
Then Uncle Pietro had to zip into the room with Aunt Wanda in his arms, demanding food because he was hungry and he wanted pie. He’d snatched the pie from Hiro’s plate but Hiro didn’t mind it, couldn’t mind it when there was something more pressing to be worried of.
Ever since that one night a year ago, he couldn’t look at his uncle and aunt without remembering what they’d done and how it affected him. They still babysat him from time to time but that was bearable since he’d actually head to bed early now—but dinner was different and he had to sit beside Tadashi while trying to make obscure his growing pains.
Uncle Loki kept giving him smirks and knowing looks the whole time and Hiro briefly wondered if he knew since he always did know something more than what everyone else.
Yet that event was the last straw for Hiro, he had to do something about his…problem.
He started distancing himself from his brothers, both of them because it would make it strange if it was just Tadashi and he knew that would hurt Tadashi more than anything if he only paid attention to Peter. It wasn’t working as he’d hoped with Tadashi following him around like an obedient puppy—and no, he didn’t use that image for his problems (often).
Today, he was walking home—though that wasn’t really true since he knew he had tracking chips all over his clothes and things courtesy of Tadashi and his dad. The moment he’d be swept off the ground by an unidentified person or object, one of the suits would be dispatched on auto and bring him back to the Tower. It was a cool system—only if it didn’t trigger at even the slightest trip.
Hiro barely avoided Tadashi that day and he’d only had gone to the bathroom once to talk himself out of actually relieving himself in school (no, he wasn’t going to emulate his older peers by being a degenerate teenager overpowered by hormones). But this wasn’t helping him, it only made things worse for him and Tadashi started becoming too clingy lately.
Sighing, Hiro kicked a pebble, he needed to think of something, anything to keep his hormones in check.
Boom!
When Hiro looked up at the loud sound, he found nothing out of the ordinary on the street then he heard the faint noise of obscene cheering followed by the faint sounds of metal hitting metal. Intrigued, he followed the sounds, knowing with each step that he probably shouldn’t but that never stopped him before.
He came into a dead end of the alleyway. There were too many people to count, but most of them clutched a robot to their chests. Small as he was, Hiro was able to make his way up front and see what the commotion was all about—and his breath stilled.
Two robots were in a small ring, controlled by what he assumed were their creators, tearing each other apart like the fighting games uncle Clint got them whenever he had the time to. One bot, a large one painted in black and orange flung the other, a smaller one painted in white and blue, into the air and before it could land, the black robot sliced it in two with the chainsaws on its ‘arms’.
The crowd went wild as an Asian lady came into the center, arms spread apart as she announced, “and the winner is…Toby Kageyama!”
Toby Kageyama, the owner of the black robot, collected his prize money from the Asian lady and smirked at his defeated opponent before challenging anyone else who was willing to fight him and his Yatagarasu. A short kid jumped into the ring, bringing with him an orange painted bot and threw a few bills into the bowl.
“Bring it on!” The kid Hiro believed couldn’t be anymore older than him (if you looked at his height) and the kid sat on the concrete floor with a fierce look of determination on his face as he made his robot run up to the Yatagarasu.
Hiro couldn’t tear his eyes off even as he was knocked around by the taller, older crowd. He fought for his space up front, watching the heated match as Little Giant and Yatagarasu duked it out. At first it was the black robot’s advantage and Toby was obviously more skilled than his opponent but the Little Giant was quick—reminding Hiro of his uncle Pietro and was able to disarm much of the larger robot.
Both boys were practically screaming at each other as the crowd’s fevor intensified, divided into two groups with the majority siding on and betting on Toby’s win. Hiro himself was betting on Toby’s win, seeing as how the other kid was purely getting good shots in by chance—then it happened and he would’ve missed it if he blinked.
The Little Giant knocked off the Yatagarasu’s head with a clean swipe of its bladed arm and the crowd went wild.
“The winner is…Shawn Hinata!”
Hiro watched Toby glare at Shawn with so much intensity and hate as Shawn grinned, taking his winnings. Another pair came onto the ring not long after but at that point, Hiro was breathless, tired and excited all at once. He stayed for a couple more hours, watching, cheering and making mental bets as the fights dragged on. It was like he was stuck in a trance, time didn’t matter, there was no hunger, no homework, no annoying fantasies—it was just excitement, adrenaline pumping into your veins and bot fighting.
The tournament ended with the Little Giant facing defeat against Neko and by then, it was already dark and there were no more challengers. Realizing too late as the people were leaving that it was way past the time he should’ve been home, Hiro ran towards him but instead of feeling panic or dread from meeting a nag session, he laughed to the wind, his eyes wide and his blood pumping.
When he arrived home, Tadashi and Peter were in the kitchen, their dads off on a mission but it was the first time Hiro couldn’t care less—not even when Tadashi threw himself at first sight of him and Peter letting his anxiousness and fear out by nagging at him to be home before the sun was gone or at least tell them where he was going and who he was with.
Hiro didn’t care, pushed past them and locked himself in his room. He wasn’t hungry, sleepy or annoyed at the clinginess of his brothers. He sat in front of his computer, almost bouncing on his seat as he made the draft for his robot—and he’d call it Megabot.