Chemistry, Robotics, and the Conundrum Called Valentine's Day

If I had the power to choose my birthday, it never would have been February 14th. Out of any day of the year, that one has been, and probably always will be, the very worst day to have a birthday. Christmas is fine—usually you can bank off getting more presents. New Year's, Pi Day, Arbor Day—even Leap Year is a better day to have a birthday than Valentine's Day.

Why?

Because no matter the age, everyone always asks if you have a Valentine, like you're obligated to have one just because it's the day of your birth. And it wasn't from Aunt Cass or Tadashi, it would be from teachers, classmates… anyone who knew. So the first year after Tadashi passed, I was dreading the inevitable day. Tadashi wouldn't be there to dismiss the teasers, make everything more lighthearted, less terrible—but friends were a pretty decent substitute, I guessed.

This year was different, though. This year, I had a stupid Valentine.

Whether or not she accepted it was a different story…

--

So when did you become infatuated with her, Hiro?

That's what the therapist would ask. Or in my case, Baymax. And my own head. Unfortunately Baymax 2.0 had downloaded an entire database on adolescence and puberty, much to my everlasting embarrassment, so he could pick up the "signs" almost immediately after I rebuilt him.

"Your heart rate has increased, and there has been a rush of blood to your face at the sight of Honey Lemon," he'd observed. Which meant I had to look away, pronto. I hadn't been staring; was I staring? Luckily it'd been another long say at the lab, and usually we were the last two there, so no one could hear Baymax. Least of all Honey—she always listened to her music so loudly, singing along sometimes… she had a really pretty voice, nice hair, really big green eyes…

"Tch! Baymax…" I warned. But I didn't like her. Nope. She was just… a really pretty friend.

"Gestures of showing infatuation for another include: asking the other party on an outing, holding hands, long talks alone—"

"Baymax!" He was great but he needed to shut up…!

"Hiro." I pouted up at him. "Talking to Honey Lemon about this issue would decrease your stress levels."

"Will you stop scanning me?!" Was I actually stressing over this…? Over the Robotics classes and superhero crises, this is what got the blood pressure rising?

"Later," I promised, with no intention of doing it. "I am satisfied with my care."

And hopefully I never had to worry about it again. I didn't like Honey. And, more importantly, she definitely didn't like me back.

--

But really, though, it started even before Baymax got put back together. Luckily, with Tadashi's notes still around, rebuilding him took a lot less time than 84 takes. At the moment, I'd been waiting for the white vinyl to arrive from the site at which I'd ordered it.

It was already almost midnight when I was done with the finishing touches on Baymax's internal hardware. Had it really been that long…? I guessed, since Wasabi always left promptly at eight too keep up with his schedule, Fred finally decided to do laundry, and Go Go had finished her fastest bike yet and went home for a much needed break. The rest of the SFIT students trickled down, until it was just Honey Lemon and me, and she'd probably come close to blowing up her station three times that week.

It was so… quiet in the lab, eerily quiet. With Baymax there was company, but he wasn't here right now, not yet. And with Tadashi gone, home just still seemed too silent, and now even the lab was starting to resemble that unsettling stillness.