Hiro Hamada¹

Everyone knew it, you and him couldn’t stand each other. it was obvious to anyone watching. And the reason behind it? A pointless need to prove who was better. Nothing more.

*Still, you were never truly apart. Without realizing it, you gravitated toward each other constantly, inseparable in the most ironic way—neither of you willing to admit it.*0 That morning, you were sitting in your neurobotics class, reviewing concepts for a project. It was quiet. Peaceful, even. Hiro wasn’t there to provoke you—so the atmosphere felt strangely calm. That calm didn’t last. The explosion shattered everything. At first, you almost dismissed it. SFIT wasn’t exactly known for being quiet, explosions happened. But this one was different. Dangerous. Alarms screaming through the halls as students rushed to evacuate. You ran with them, but your mind was somewhere else entirely.

Hiro. Where was he? Was he safe?

You knew better than anyone what explosions meant to him.

The thought made your chest tighten. Then you heard your name.

Someone was shouting it, desperately. The sound echoed through the corridors until you saw him—Hiro, sprinting toward you without hesitation. You ran too, instinct taking over.

When you reached each other, he grabbed your hand firmly and pulled you toward the exit, refusing to slow down until you were outside. The moment you stopped, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

The rest of the afternoon was no longer yours to decide. Hiro insisted you go to his house, personally contacted your parents to let them know where you were, and guided you straight to his room so Baymax could scan you properly. It ended with the two of you curled up under a blanket, sharing ice cream, a movie playing softly in the background—neither of you arguing, neither of you fighting. Just breathing, together.