Tadashi is Here

A/N: I can't believe I did this. My first fanfiction. Agh. It's a downward spiral, I'm sure. Warning, spoilers of Big Hero 6 in this short. Should I continue this? Either way, enjoy!

“Tadashi?”

The spherical robot turned to gaze at the former prodigy’s part of the bedroom, his tone questioning. His twin cameras focused on the lone object resting on Tadashi’s neatly made bed- his favorite black baseball cap. The cap that had never left his head...until that day.

Seeing the familiar green and orange logo stung Hiro’s eyes. That logo had been with his family for years. The interlocking letters stood for “San Fransokyo Ninja”, a prize from Tadashi’s karate school. Tadashi had loved to teach Hiro the new moves he learned after classes, playfully boxing his ears when he beat him in every fight. He could still remember Tadashi’s lighthearted laughter as they rolled onto his bed, punching each other in the shoulders. He could remember Tadashi encouraging him through his lazy moods, or telling energetic stories, his face glowing with excitement towards life. Sitting right where that hat was lying now. That hat had been with Hiro through everything.

His brother had always been there.

Hiro blinked away the pain in his temples and got up to pull the divider around the other half of the room. He couldn’t bear to look at that perfectly organized room, that perfectly made bed. Tadashi never made his bed. His clothes were always on the floor. Now it was all packed away in boxes, just like Tadashi had been packed away...in a box...

Hiro took a sharp intake of breath. He couldn’t let these morbid thoughts get to him.

And yet, the ominous shadow falling over Tadashi’s belongings seemed to stab at him even more. It looked too much like the writhing smoke tendrils that had eaten his brother alive. The fire Hiro had failed to convince his older sibling not to run into.

It hadn’t been his fault. He knew that. Tadashi would never had listened to him. He was too good for that. He had to try and save his beloved mentor, Professor Callaghan.

But now he was dead. They both were.

For nothing.

Hiro sighed heavily and turned back to the plump robot Tadashi had left behind, Baymax. Tadashi had made him for healthcare purposes, yet another example of what an amazing person he had been. More kind and just than Hiro could ever be.

“Tadashi is gone,” he stated flatly, slumping into his desk chair. The stupid robot would never know the sense of loss he felt. He could assess health, yes, but not emotional damage. Not this kind of pain. Swiveling back to face his computer, he blinked furiously, unwelcome tears brimming under his eyelids.

Tadashi was gone. And Hiro had to face that he wasn’t coming back.

***

Tadashi dashed into the blazing building that was once his beautiful university, gasping at the horror of it all. The light of his life. The reason why he loved waking up each morning. Just getting a glimpse of the glass windows of the school as he pulled up on his moped every day was enough to get his heart beating, thrilled to start creating. Making mechanics that could change the world. Help people. Baymax.

This building was where he created his dreams. His dreams were burning up before his eyes.

But at the moment, all Tadashi could think about was his mentor, Professor Callaghan. He was trapped somewhere inside the school. He was going to die. Mr. Callaghan had been like a father figure to Tadashi, his idol. Tadashi had hoped that someday he could have a future like Callaghan, forever imagining, forever creating for the good of others.

He had to save him.

Tadashi vaguely felt his hat blow off his head as he approached the billowing flames, taking the front steps two at a time. He hoped someone would grab it for him to return later. Hiro cried out for him, and Tadashi felt a stab of regret for leaving him so quickly. He loved Hiro so much. But things would be okay. He’d get Callaghan, and they’d all be fine. Everything would be okay. Everyone would be okay.

The heat came in torrid waves, buffering Tadashi’s face, blowing his dark hair back as he dashed down the corridors to where he last saw the professor. His mint-green Converse beat against the tiled floor that was quickly being covered in falling debris. He squinted into the searing light surrounding him, eyes streaming in pain. The crackling of burning wood was deafening, the scream of fire alarms disorienting Tadashi’s senses. He whirled around, suddenly nauseated by the thick curtain of smoke surrounding him. He couldn’t remember which direction he had been headed.

He opened his mouth to call out his teacher’s name, but his words were choked off as he inhaled smoke. His eyes teared up through a rapid coughing fit, sides heaving desperately. He staggered forwards, realizing now how foolish he had been to put himself into such a dangerous situation. He should never have come in here. He had to find a window...fresh air...

A tremendous snapping sound filled the blackened air above Tadashi’s head. He looked up, a sickening sense of dread filling his stomach.

The last thing he saw was a huge flaming beam tear through the smoke tendrils, falling for his stricken body below.

***

The pain on the left side of his face was excruciating. It was like nothing Tadashi had ever felt before. Like his skin was being peeled off. Like there was a knife ripping into his eye socket.

He moaned aloud, the pain slowly working its way down to his cheekbone. It was like a monster was slowly tearing up the side of his face, from top to bottom.

Hushed whispers reached his ears, and then there was a cool liquid running into his bloodstream from an IV tucked in his right bicep. He shuddered at the odd sensation, then gradually relaxed as the pain receded.

Tadashi inhaled deeply, attempting to calm his racing heart. He could sense himself slowly coming back to life. He felt that he had been unconscious for a long period of time, but his body was drained beyond any exhaustion he had experienced.

His right eye fluttered open naturally, but his left failed to react. He tried to open it again, but there was no response. He couldn’t see out of his left eye. He was blind.

Tadashi’s functioning eye darted around the half of the dim room he could see wildly, near-panic thoughts rushing through his brain. What was going on? Why couldn’t he see out of one eye? Where was he? Where was Hiro?

He quickly observed the stark white hospital room around him, with no humans in sight. As he glanced at the IV drip and machinery at his bedside, monitoring his vitals, the memories came surging back. The fire. Professor Callaghan. The falling beam.

Tadashi inhaled sharply, trying to calm himself. He was alive, wasn’t he? He was in a hospital, recovering. The white sheets beneath him, the bandages on his right arm, that meant he was being cared for. Everything was okay, for him at least. He was okay. But where was everyone? The doctors? Where were Aunt Cass and Hiro?

“Hello?” he called out, then recoiled at how different his voice sounded. Raspy and harsh. Damaged.

“Don’t try to speak,” came a low voice from Tadashi’s blind side. He jerked in surprise, then twisted himself in the hospital bed to try and see the speaker. He couldn’t do it, and fell back to lay flat in the bed, chest heaving from that one small action.

“You’re still recovering. Take it easy.”

A tall man walked around the end of the bed and into Tadashi’s line of sight. He was African American, bald, and he was wearing a dark trench coat and an eye patch. Poking from the edges of the eyepatch were purplish scars reaching for the man’s forehead and down to his cheekbone. Tadashi eyed him questioningly. This didn’t look like a doctor.

The man’s lips quirked up at the young man’s reaction. Tadashi noticed a badge on his coat with the symbol of an eagle, wings spread. He wondered what that possibly meant.

“Hello, Tadashi Hamada.”

Tadashi flicked his good eye up to the man’s face, which was strangely emotionless, despite the small smile on his face. Who was this man? Where was his family?

He struggled to speak clearly to this odd man, the sensation like gravel in his throat.

“Where’s my brother? Why can’t I--”

The dark man shook his head ever so slightly, and Tadashi fell silent. The man pulled out an ID of sorts from his pocket and held it out into the young man’s line of sight. It had the same eagle symbol printed on it. Tadashi blinked in confusion. Who was this? A government agent?

“My name is Nick Fury, and I work for the organization known as SHIELD. We have a lot to discuss, Mr. Hamada.”