𝒖𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂 - 「HIRO HAMADA」

- bruises and bolts

☾ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲:
𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

☾ 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬):
☻𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

☾ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:
𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒉𝒊𝒎.

✎ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒:
requested by the wonderful TheQueenRains <3 go check her stories out, they're literally amazing!! i personally really love her book 'princess' :D anywho, you and hiro are both 20, and the gang varies from ages 25-26 (just a lil btw lol).

i'm sorry i couldn't get your request out sooner :((

⋆.*ೃ✧ *๑՞.

Hiro paced around the garage, trying his hardest to clear his mind. The clock read 4:44 AM, and the young Hamada was running off of scarcely an hour of sleep.

His job as a robotics engineer was quite a grand experience, but this particular project has him wishing he was still a fourteen-year-old in college. No, he would tell himself, you can't think that way.

Think, Hiro, think.

It's for Tadashi, Hiro.

Do this for Y/N, Hiro.

He tried his best to concentrate, and began to sip on his sixth mug of coffee. Hiro was attempting to create a rescue robot, or a super-bot, as you would call it. The robot was based off of Baymax (who was currently charging in his bedroom), his brother's wonderful creation. It would act similar to the superhero he was in his youth (and still in the present, for old time's sake), & would help citizens in need— whether it be a fire, a broken leg, a collapsing building, or even a little kitten stuck in a tree.

The only question is, how would he be able to create it?

An idea suddenly popped into his mind.

He replayed Tadashi's progress video for background noise, one he grew so attached too. He smiled as his elder brother's soft voice filled the room, and began to get to work. Maybe, just maybe, this will work.

"Okay, I think I just need to put this here... hmm, no, maybe here..." Hiro began to think out loud.

He tinkered with the bot a bit longer, until he heard the door to the garage open; a sweet voice awakening him from his 'zone.'

"Hiro?" You call out to the boy. He turns his head quickly, recognizing your voice.

"Oh, Y/N? Did I wake you?" He asks.

"No, I just woke up to get water and I heard something out here."

"Oh, okay. Don't you have the morning shift tomorrow? You should sleep, my swan." He says, using the pet name he gave you when you were both fourteen. He would say you reminded him of a swan, elegant and calm— but also mysterious and unique.

Your heart skips a beat, memories of your youth flooding back to you in a tsunami of nostalgia. How you wish you could go back to being a young teenager, when there wasn't a care in the world for finishing schoolwork on time or accidentally leaving the stove on.