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Hiro whacked a roll of quarters against the countertop and began refilling the cash register. He was helping Aunt Cass out that summer by working in the Lucky Cat Café on the weekends. Hiro didn’t mind much (he got to spend the rest of the week doing whatever he so pleased), but the weekends were busy enough for Aunt Cass to need another person there along with her and Honey Lemon.
The copper bell above the door rang, and Hiro looked up to see a teen boy enter the café. The teen walked with a slight bounce, keeping his head held up high while he held onto the straps of the backpack that was on his back. His black hair was perfectly styled into the most ridiculous quiff Hiro had ever seen. He almost appeared to have a swirl of black sesame ice cream atop his head.
Hiro realized he’d been staring for much longer than what was deemed socially acceptable when the teen sashayed up to the counter. Hiro hoped his smile didn’t scream out awkwardness.
“Welcome to the Lucky Cat Café! May I take your order?” he asked brightly.
The boy’s dark eyes roved the menu hanging on the wall behind Hiro. He held up a single finger and pointed at the menu.
“What’s a caffè medici?” he inquired.
Hiro’s smile grew a tiny bit more genuine. “It’s a double shot of espresso poured over orange peel and chocolate syrup then topped with whipped cappuccino cream. It’s great to drink while working on term papers.”
The raven-haired boy on the other side of the counter blinked once and then cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t say? I’ll take a large.”
Hiro turned to an older brunette woman who was also behind the counter. “One large caffè medici, Aunt Cass!”
The woman didn’t look up form where she was brewing tea. “Name?”
“Oh, um.” Hiro turned back to the teen. “Can I get your name, please?”
The teen smiled. “Wilbur.”
Hiro repeated the name to his aunt and rang up Wilbur’s total.
Wilbur handed him four dollars in cash and asked, “Are you in college, then—“ he squinted at Hiro’s nametag “—Hiro?”
Hiro answered while counting out Wilbur’s change. “Yeah, I’m over at the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology.” He handed Wilbur his change. “What about you?”
“I’m hoping to get accepted there.”
“Really? I hope you have something special planned for the showcase. SFIT can be hard to get into.”
Wilbur cracked a cocky smile. “Oh, that’ll be no problem.”
Hiro opened his mouth to contest that, but the copper bell rang again signaling that another customer had entered the shop. Wilbur glanced over his shoulder and back at Hiro.
“Your drink should be up in just—“
“Caffè medici for Wilbur!”
“—and there it is! Have a nice day,” Hiro said brightly.
Wilbur nodded his head. “You too.”
Hiro watched the teen out of the corner of his eye as he rang up the next customer, a middle-aged woman holding the hand of a little girl in pigtails.
Wilbur picked up his drink and took a seat by a window. He took a tablet and a notebook from his backpack and began writing.
I wonder if he’s working on his project for the showcase, Hiro mused. It must be something impressive or he wouldn’t have sounded so sure of himself.
It occurred to Hiro that the teen he had just met might just have been naturally arrogant, but he swatted that thought away.
Hiro didn’t get the chance to ask about his project, though. By the time an hour had passed, Wilbur had drained his drink, packed up his notebook and tablet, and left the café.
Hiro found himself wondering—perhaps even hoping—that he’d be back.
***
Wilbur slung the backpack over his shoulders and hopped off the trolley. He’d been in San Fransokyo for nearly a month, and he still couldn’t get over how different it was to Todayland. Where his hometown was almost purely futuristic in design, San Fransokyo blended traditional Japanese and Western cultures with modern technology into an efficient city. But what Wilbur liked most about San Fransokyo was that it felt alive as if the air itself was charged with energy. He figured it must be the people constantly on the move not just during the day, but at night as well. The heart of the city was a buzzing metropolis.
The part of San Fransokyo he was in that day was older than the city’s center.
Ding-ding-ding! The copper bell chimed happily when Wilbur opened the door to the Lucky Cat Café.
Hiro waved at him from behind the counter. “Hey, Wilbur!”
“Hi, Hiro!”
Wilbur found himself going back to the café every weekend. It was a good place to work on his designs and to get away from his host, Mr. Kato, the family friend he was staying with until he secured a place at the Institute and could move into a dorm.
Wilbur strode up to the counter.
“What do you want today? Hot chocolate? Mocha? Medicis aren’t on the menu today.”
Wilbur considered this, a finger to his chin. “I’ll take a hot chocolate—to go, please.”
Hiro repeated his order.
“I was also wondering if you knew of any places around that sell batteries.”
Wilbur paid for his drink and Hiro answered. “That depends. What do you need specifically?”
Wilbur listed off three different batteries.
Hiro nodded. “Yeah, there’s a shop a few blocks from here. . . . Take a left when you leave the café, walk past the first row of painted ladies, turn right—“
Hiro’s aunt Cass laughed. “Why don’t you show him, Hiro?”
Hiro blushed a shade of red not unlike that of Petunia’s hair.
“D-don’t you need me here though, Aunt Cass?” he stammered.
The woman looked up briefly from where she was making Wilbur’s drink and waved a hand. “Honey Lemon should be here any minute; I can handle the café while you’re away.”
Hiro pulled off his apron. “All right.”
Cass handed Wilbur his drink, and then pulled Hiro into a hug.
“See you boys later!”
The teens left the café, and it suddenly struck Wilbur that this was the first time the two of them had been together outside of it. He was about to strike up a conversation—maybe mention that fact or possibly ask why Hiro resembled the leader of a crime fighting group—when Hiro burst out, “Do you live around here, Wilbur?”
“That is an excellent question. As a matter of fact, no.”
“Where do you live then?”
“Todayland,” Wilbur replied tentatively.
Hiro looked up at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s your last name?”
Uh oh.
The bad thing about being the son of a famous inventor? You get recognized and held to your father’s reputation instead of your own.
“Robinson.”
Hiro pushed a cross walk signal. “Robinson?” he repeated. “Huh. The famous inventor Cornelius Robinson has a son by the name of Wilbur.”
The signal changed to “walk” and the two crossed the street.
“Yeah . . .” Wilbur rubbed the back of his neck.
After reaching the other side, Hiro stopped walking. “Wait—Cornelius Robinson is your father? That is so cool!”
Wilbur let out a dry laugh. “It would be better if I didn’t have random people stopping me on the street to ask me. It’s not much better than staring.”
Hiro motioned for them to keep walking. “I know what you mean,” he muttered.
“What was that?”
It was Hiro’s turn to look sheepish. “Um, nothing.”
Wilbur would not be thrown off so easily. “No, you most definitely said ‘I know what you mean.’”
“Can I say something crazy?”
Crazy? Wilbur doubted anything that Hiro said in that moment would be considered “crazy” when compared to what he dealt with at home. “Hit me.”
“You know Big Hero 6—“
Wilbur cut him off. “—you’re the leader.”
Hiro threw up his hands. “Unbelievable.”
Wilbur cracked a smile. “I won’t tell a soul.”
***
Hiro threw open the window to let in the nighttime August breezes before he pulled off his t-shirt and climbed into bed. The teen mulled over the events of his day.
He’d shown Wilbur around the historic district in town that day. Wilbur had been absolutely taken by it—apparently it was quite different to Todayland. He had darted here and there making Hiro thankful that they hadn’t brought Baymax along as the robot would not have been able to keep up with the boy’s hummingbird-like flitting. They’d been out for about an hour when Wilbur had pressed his face against a glass storefront.
“That looks like the radio Uncle Mike has!” he’d exclaimed before taking hold of Hiro’s hand and dragging him into the antique store.
Hiro rolled over, thinking about Wilbur holding his hand.
It had been nice. . . .
The robot his brother had built (and Hiro, subsequently, rebuilt) spoke to him from his charging station, “Your neurotransmitter levels are elevated.”
“That’s nice, Baymax,” Hiro said with a yawn.
“Sweet dreams, Hiro.”
“You too, buddy.”
Once he was sure Baymax had shut himself down for the night, Hiro let his thoughts wander back to his friend Wilbur.
“Friend.”
Hiro definitely liked Wilbur as something other than a friend. What with the way he carried himself and spoke—he was so sure of himself, almost to the point of cockiness, but it fit Wilbur just as Baymax’s upgrades fit him.
Hiro sighed.
Wilbur better get into SFIT, Hiro thought as he began to drift off into the arms of sleep. I want to know what his hair looks like when it isn’t gelled.
***
Wilbur glanced at his reflection in the mirror and put the finishing touches on his hair.
This was it.
The day of the showcase had finally arrived.
Wilbur looked back at his reflection and threw himself a dazzling smile. He felt perfectly fine. This wasn’t any different than any other presentations he’d ever done. He was going to be cool, calm, and collected, as he always was when he was stood in front of a crowd of people.
In this crowd of people, however, would be the new friends he’d made by hanging out with Hiro.
Hiro.
Wilbur put a hand on the marble bathroom countertop. Scratch feeling fine; at the prospect of his crush watching him present, Wilbur thought he was going to throw up a kaleidoscope of butterflies. That would not help his appearance any.
Wilbur took a deep breath. He’d be fine. A little thing like this never bothered him. He was Wilbur Robinson, after all.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door.
“Wilbur?” Wilbur recognized his host’s voice. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll be out in just a second!” he called back to Mr. Kato.
I’ll be fine, Wilbur thought as he got into Mr. Kato’s car.
I’ll be fine, he repeated to himself as he made his way into the building where the showcase was taking place.
I’ll be—
“Hey, Wilbur!”
Wilbur turned to see Hiro standing with the rest of Big Hero 6 and his aunt Cass. Hiro waved him and Mr. Kato over.
Abort, abort, abort.
But he was already there, gazing up at the current presenter.
Hiro looked at Wilbur. “It’s nearly time; you ready?”
Wilbur’s eyes flickered toward the stage. He tried for what he hoped was a winning smile. “Of course!”
Hiro held out his hand. “Fist bump?”
They did their thing just as a voice said, “Next up, Wilbur Robinson.”
Wilbur hopped up on stage and took the offered microphone. He introduced himself before beginning his well-rehearsed pitch.
“What I have here”—Wilbur gestured to his feet—“may appear to be ordinary tennis shoes, but they have been modified to create anti-gravity.” Wilbur walked toward the back of the stage and climbed up a thirty-foot ladder. “Hundreds of workers die or are seriously injured every year from falls from great heights. These shoes would be an incredible help in reducing those numbers. Allow me to demonstrate.”
Wilbur glanced at Hiro for a brief second before stepping right off the ladder. He distinctly heard someone scream.
But the shoes acted as they should, and Wilbur hovered about five feet above the stage.
“The anti-gravity generator utilizes the earth’s own magnetic field to run. They also work over water by also using the polarity of H2O molecules.
“The shoes automatically know if the wearer is in danger and turn on automatically. To turn off them off again, all the wearer needs to do use the controls which are located in a handy watch-like device.” Wilbur turned a dial on the “watch” and slowly began to float back to the stage.
“Anti-gravity shoes: they’re easy to use, comfortable to wear, and most importantly, could help improve the safety of those around us.”
The crowd gathered around the presentation area applauded politely. Wilbur could see those on the school board writing things down and conversing amongst one another. Whether or not they had been impressed by his invention, Wilbur was happy—Hiro was beaming at him.
Wilbur ran down the steps about to return to his group but was stopped by one of the men from the school who’d been watching the presentation.
“Congratulations, son,” he drawled. “You’ve got yourself a spot at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology.”
He held out an official looking envelope which Wilbur quickly accepted. The man walked away before Wilbur could think of anything to say.
Wilbur turned over the envelope in his hands.
I did it! I actually did it!
The sound of familiar voices interrupted Wilbur’s reverie. He spotted Hiro break through the crowd of people and that was enough to shake him completely. Wilbur tackled the shorter boy in a hug that nearly bowled him over.
“I got accepted!” he exclaimed, pulling back but leaving his hands on Hiro’s shoulders.
Hiro grinned. “I knew you would!”
Wilbur grinned back. He no longer felt anxious. He felt high like the first time he’d gotten to use the time machine. Or when he’d learned he was coming to San Fransokyo. He felt alive.
Without thinking, Wilbur placed his hands on either side of Hiro’s face and kissed him.
Wilbur’s conscious caught up with him quickly. He pulled back.
“Oh my gosh,” Wilbur breathed out.
Hiro stared at him. His mouth was hanging open slightly, and his dark eyes were wide with stupefaction.
Wilbur stumbled backward. “Oh my gosh,” he repeated. “Hiro, I’m—I’m—“
But what he was, Wilbur didn’t say.
He turned on his heel and fled.
***
Too late, Hiro came to his senses and called after Wilbur.
The boy was already gone.
Hiro muttered a curse and hurriedly informed Aunt Cass not to worry before rushing after Wilbur.
A single thought buzzed through Hiro’s mind as he made his way through the showcase: Wilbur likes me?
Hiro had thought he stood no chance with his crush even if Wilbur had happened to be attracted to guys. The kiss had come as a pleasant, and not unwelcome, surprise to the already satisfying night.
Hiro burst out of the building and allowed his eyes to rove the grounds. He soon spotted a lone figure sitting beneath a cherry tree. Hiro picked his way down the steps in front of the building and quickly nipped his way over to the tree.
“Hey.”
Wilbur glanced up at Hiro and swiftly returned to gazing over the still waters of the pond.
Hiro sighed and sat down next to him.
“Wilbur—“
Wilbur cut him off. “I’m sorry about—about that.” He looked down at his hands. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s okay, you know.”
Hiro sent a sidelong glance at Wilbur to gauge his reaction. Wilbur’s dark eyebrows had furrowed.
“What do you mean?” he asked tentatively.
“I like you too.”
Wilbur looked up at Hiro. “You mean that? Really? This isn’t some elaborate prank, is it?”
Hiro shifted closer to Wilbur. “I mean it.”
If it hadn’t had been so dark out, Hiro might have thought Wilbur was blushing.
“Can I kiss you again?” Wilbur queried.
Hiro huffed. “Of course!”
Hiro almost dared not breathe as Wilbur shifted onto his knees. His calloused hands were cool on Hiro’s face and neck. Hiro caught the fleeting scent of hair gel, and then Wilbur was kissing him for the second time that night.
The two broke their embrace, and Hiro was unsuccessful in an attempt to suppress a grin. The two shifted back into sitting positions, putting their backs to the cherry tree. Hiro leaned against Wilbur’s chest. Neither said a word until—
“Baymx, what are you doing out here?” Hiro demanded.
The robot lifted his arms in what would have been a placating gesture for a human. “I was concerned about my patient. If you had maintained the speed at which you left the building, you may have injured yourself going down the stairs.”
Hiro sighed. “It’s definitely not because Aunt Cass told you to find me, right?”
Baymax blinked and ignored his insinuation. “Your neurotransmitter levels are high, and your hormones—“
Hiro stiffened under Wilbur’s arms. “Whoa, buddy, that’s enough, thank you!”
Wilbur laughed and Hiro reached up to tug on his hair. Wilbur saved his black locks just in time.
“Hey!”
Hiro chuckled and leaned back against Wilbur.
What a wonderful night indeed.