The Hamada Brothers

"Tadashi is Here"

"NO!" Aunt Cass was screaming. She was hunching over a familiar spot in the corner of the living room.

I ran over to her and slid on my knees to her side. "Aunt Cass? What's wrong?" Her hands were covering her face as she kept wailing. I saw a tail limply hanging out of the basket she was crying over. "Don't tell me..." I wrapped an arm around her and gave her a squeeze.

"She's dead," she sniffled. "Mochi is dead, Hiro," she couldn't stop sobbing. "I can't lose another one, Hiro. You're all I have left."

I pulled her into a tight hug. I could feel my shirt dampen with her crying. "It's alright, Aunt Cass," I tried soothing her. "Now Mochi's got a bunch of other cats to eat tuna with in cat heaven!" I could hear my voice start to tremble. "She'll be alright there. She's even got Tadas-" I stopped myself mid-sentence, holding back the tears.

I heard soft footsteps descending the flight of stairs. The marshmallow of a robot waddled towards us, stopping a couple of feet away.

"My sensors detect low levels of serotonin in both of you. I will now scan the both of you." Baymax said in his usual tone.

"Baymax," I started. "You don't have to-"

"Scan completed."

"Unbelievable," I choked out.

"There are no physical injuries located." Baymax said. "However, both of you are experiencing high levels of grief." He waddled over to Aunt Cass and I and wrapped his arms around us. "There, there. It will be alright," the robot tried to soothe us.

Baymax turned to Mochi and stared for a few seconds. He turned back and said, "Mochi will always be here, in your heart, and my memory. He will always be our hairy baby." Baymax gave us a little squeeze before releasing us from his embrace.

I let go of Aunt Cass too. Her eyes were red and puffy, and it seemed like she couldn't cry anymore. "I'll go down and get you a chocolate cake, okay?" I rested my hand on her shoulder. "Then we can talk about her funeral." I turned over to Baymax and gave a small smile. "I am satisfied with my care, Baymax."

I watched the large robot try to make its way up the stairs. Aunt Cass was sitting cross-legged in her arm chair by Mochi's basket. She'd covered up her body with a small blanket and was staring blankly at the cat.

I went downstairs and scanned through the pastry displays in the café. Baymax's words echoed in my head. It reminded me a lot from half a year back when-

I pinched myself on the thigh on reflex. I do that a lot when I start to overthink. I haven't truly come to terms with his passing; I doubt I ever will.

Unjust.

That's the only word to describe his death.

I always come home from college, wanting to ramble to him about my day at school. I would find a funny video that I would share with him. Sometimes, I got proud of the inventions I doodle all over my desk.

I always turn around and call his name.

And he never replied.

I'd been trying to cope during the months without him, but he wasn't just my brother.

He was my best friend

And it still pains me to remind myself that he's gone.

.....

Aunt Cass had sent Mochi off in his basket by the sea. She had returned to the Lucky Cat Café to resume business, and probably to empty her thoughts of her dead cat.

Baymax and I were in our gear, sitting on top of the San Fransokyo Bridge, watching the sun set over the horizon. It's a habit of mine when I want to clear my head.

"I'm really going to miss that stupid cat," I laughed.

"Mochi will always be here, Hiro," Baymax replied.

"At least she'll be in good care, up there." I felt my voice straining. "Tadashi will be there to take care of her..."

Baymax turned over to me. "Tadashi is here."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," I sighed. "He'll always be in our hearts, yeah I get it." I stood up and attached to myself to Baymax. "C'mon, let's go."

Baymax took his position and blasted off the bridge and into the town. Baymax broke the awkward silence. "Tadashi is here, Hiro," he said as he had a million times before.

Well, not a million, but you get what I mean.

"It's okay, Baymax. I know he's in a better place now." I tried to sound strong. I'm six months too late to cry for him.

Baymax swerved right, narrowly avoiding a gigantic inflatable baby in a toque. We were flying above an unfamiliar line of shops. "Baymax? Where are we going?" I asked.

Baymax remained silent as we landed by a window of a diner. I detached myself from his back and glanced into the diner. There was only a young man and a waitress in the diner.

"Baymax, why are we here?" I looked into the diner again. The man seemed oddly familiar. He had neat hair, cut short, and he was wearing a baseball tee with a jacket. By his side, there was a brand-new Ninjas baseball cap, which was heart-wrenchingly similar to the one Tadashi was wearing that night.

"Baymax," I repeated. "Why are we here?"

Baymax lifted his arm to the window, pointing at the man. I took a moment to process what was happening.

Baymax turned to me and said, "Hiro, Tadashi is there."