Who We Are (Hiro x Reader)

chapter twenty

He shakes you awake when the sky is a dark purple. You quickly get up and pack up your things. Every movement is heavy, and you'd kill for a cup of coffee right about now. Anything to wake you up. You've been so tired all week. Hiro hands you a cup of applesauce to eat on the way.

"Come on," he whispers.

You follow him out the door, then stop. "Wait." You quickly turn and run back into the house.

"___," Hiro warns quietly.

"Just a second!" You go into the kitchen and open the drawer. You grab two spoons and hold them up. "Thought we might need this for dinner tonight."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Come on, you weirdo."

"You won't call me weird when you're eating beans with a spoon instead of your hands," you point out, shoving the silverware into your backpack.

Hiro hoists Baymax onto his shoulders and shakes his head again. "I guess so." He holds out his hand, but you're hesitant to take it. "What? You won't hold my hand?"

You smile and slide your fingers in between his. "No, I will. It's just... it's sort of new."

"Yeah," he replies. "Hey, you know how I feel about you."

"I know," you say smugly, bumping your shoulder into his.

He flashes a grin at you. His hair falls in his eyes. You smirk and brush it away. "We're going to need to find scissors."

"There's no way I'm letting you near my head with scissors," he jokes.

"Oh, you're just afraid to cut your perfect hair," you accuse with a roll of your eyes.

He looks over at you with big eyes. "Awe, you think it's perfect? That's so sweet of you to say."

You laugh and start to speak again, before there's a loud groan from behind you. You gasp and turn around quickly, just to see the creeper reach out for you. Hiro pushes you back and hits the thing in the chest, knocking it backwards. He grabs a fistful of its brown curls and brings the knife up to its head. It collapses to the ground, silent and still. "Jeez," he breathes, pulling the knife out of the skull. "You're okay?"

"Yeah," you say, rubbing your shoulder.

"Let me see," he says, turning you around. He pulls your hair together and moves it to your left shoulder.

"What are you doing?" you ask, nervously playing with the locks of your hair.

"I'm checking for scratches. That thing was too close to you." You can feels his fingertips tracing across your skin as he searches in the dim light. "I think you're fine."

It's things like this that bring you back to reality.

Your reality isn't flirting with your boyfriend, or even having a boyfriend. In fact, you're not even sure what you are in his eyes. Just a survival strategy? Just a friend for the end of the world? Or are you just a one-time thing? Is he eager to rid of you after all of this?

"What are we?" you whisper.

"We're people," he answers, using the edge of his hoodie to clean his knife.

"No. Us." You look up at him and grab his hand.

He looks down and you and smiles. "You know how I feel about you." There's another groan. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and starts forward. "We'd better go."

You sigh and look up at the sky. It's a cotton candy pink, soft and bright. You smile. "Hiro, look!"

"What?" he asks, looking over at you. He follows your gaze to the sky.

"Isn't it beautiful?" you ask, gasping at the switch of color from pink, to purple, to blue, to black. "It's like we're living in three different times of the day, all at once."

"Yeah," he breathes, squeezing your shoulder. "C'mon. Let's go." You smile at him and wrap an arm around his waist. You two walk together, content under the one thing in the world that is still beautiful. The sky.
-
Hiro was right. The parking garage is filled with vans and cars and trucks that are packed full of survival things. Hiro opens up a trunk of a red car and digs through while you keep watch.

"This was a brilliant idea," he says. "Good job, me!"

"Okay, it was a pretty nice idea, but let's not get too excited."

He laughs. "Oh! You needed a shirt?"

"Yes," you say. Hiro tosses black fabric to you. "What size is it?"

"Don't know. I can find a size bigger for you if you'd like."

"No, this is fine. Um, Hiro?" you ask.

"What is it?" he answers, still digging in the trunk.

"Can you guard me while I change? Just, like, turn that way and keep watch?"

He looks over at you and shrugs. "Just... change. It's not a big deal."

You bite your lip. "Hiro, please."

His expression softens. He nods and takes out his knife. "Okay. Okay, I'll keep watch." He turns away from you as you slip your soiled shirt off of your body and out the clean one on. It feels so nice against your skin. The soft cotton shirt is rather big, but it's simple and comfortable. "You good?"

"I'm good," you say, kicking the old shirt underneath a car. Hiro turns around and looks at you. "What?"

"Nothing," he says. "You're just really pretty."

"Oh, whatever!" you scoff, walking around him and heading towards the cars on the other side.

"Well, you are!" he calls back. "And you know that I don't give out compliments very often."

"Sure, sure," you say.

Hiro chuckles and opens up at cardboard box. "Sweet!" Sitting before him is a box of chocolate chip cookies. He grabs it and shoves it into his bag. "___, you're gonna be pretty happy with what I'm finding." Then, out of the silence, there's a weird sounding smack! and a thump!

Hiro quickly spins around and looks at the row of cars that you were searching. "___?" he calls out.

Nothing.

"___!" He stumbles forward, searching wildly for you. Underneath cars, in the seats. "___, this isn't funny!" He turns to look between two giant pick up trucks. On the ground, unconscious, is you. There's a red mark on your forehead, quickly turning purple. "___!"

Before he can reach for you, something hits the back of his head. He falls forward, right next to you. In his hazy vision, he watches a man reach down and grab your ankle.

"No," Hiro whispers weakly as he watches you be dragged away. He wants so badly to grab you, to save you. In his head, you're safe in his arms. Whoever has done this is long gone. You're okay, you're safe. Instead, you're dragged away.

His eyes roll into the back of his head.