Tadashi Hamada x OC Fanfic: A New Angle

1: Tadashi Hamada

With an explosion of heat, Tadashi watched the world go black.

Flames.

Tadashi stared at the massive dome of a ceiling as it licked over in orange pricks of light. Smoke tore at his vision, billowed through his hair, and raced through the open room. He pressed forward. He cast aside a table, another table, another table... why were there so many tables?

Tadashi, no... TADASHI!

An unfamiliar voice screamed his name in the distance, but he could recognize it at one: Hiro. Although it was a little deeper, squeaking with a hint of puberty, it was his brother. 

So why couldn't he stop moving forwards? Who or what was he chasing after that could be worth leaving his only brother?

Then: with an explosion of heat, Tadashi watched the world go black.

...

Tadashi blinked, squinting at the sunlight spilling through the windows. He steadied his breath, wiping the perspiration slipping down his temples. 

It's just a dream. 

Immediately, Tadashi glanced across the makeshift bamboo wall to Hiro's side of the room, where his 12-year-old brother was playing a video game: very much unharmed. Sighing with relief, Tadashi brushed his palms through his hair, reaching to the side of his bed to pull on his father's baseball cap.

It's just a dream.

"You're up kinda late, bro," said Hiro, still gluing his eyes on his monitor.

"Hey, hey. College schedules are a bit different... wait, what time is it--"

"It's almost ten."

"Fuck." She'll be here at any moment. 

Tadashi lunged to his clothes drawer, pulling out a pair of khakis and a black shirt. While shifting into his light gray cardigan, he wondered whether March would care about the color palette of his outfit. She was an art student after all. 

Tadashi shrugged the thought away, choosing hygiene and being slightly less late over fashion. Bouncing into his checkered Vanz, he brushed his teeth, slapped on his new skincare routine-- courtesy of Aunt Cass-- waved bye to Hiro, and bounded out the door. 

Halfway down the stairs, he saw her: haloed in the afternoon sun, thoughtfully tapping a bluetooth pencil to her tablet. I wonder what she's cooking up, Tadashi smiled. 

Dressed in a pastel pink coat, checkered skirt, and sheer black tights, she looked every inch the part of the art student that would save his future company.

Tadashi checked the time: 10 AM sharp. He walked down the stairs, plopped his bag down on the chair opposite hers, and waved. 

When she was silent, he glanced up, noticing that her eyes were still glued to the tablet.

Like Hiro, he thought, amused. Impulsively, Tadashi crept out of his seat and tapped her on the shoulder. 

"Boo."

"Who, what? Huh?" March jerked up. She glanced up at him, and a strand of her hair fell into her eyes. "Oh, hi Tadashi!"

"Hey," said Tadashi, grinning. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, just last-minute brainstorming a couple ideas for our company. How are you? You look a little tired."

Was it that apparent? "Oh. Just a weird dream."

"Do tell."