Twenty-first birthday present to myself because there's no better way to prove I'm going nowhere with my life than to write plotless fanfiction. Oh, well~ I hope you enjoy it anyway.

This can be read as pre-relationship Hidashi or just pre-friendship. Rating is for possible stalking behaviors.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this work. All characters belong to Disney/Marvel. Also, I found the image for this work on Google Images and was unable to locate the original artist. If you know the original artist, please let me know so I can contact them.

May 5, 2015

He awakes to the sound of low whining, followed by the unmistakable clink, clink of dull nails on polished wood. For a moment, he lies still, blinking into the darkness of his bedroom— but then, the room illuminates with a resonating boom and he becomes aware of the pitter-pattering of raindrops violently colliding with the window just to the side of his head.

A pitiful howl echoes through the house. Nails clink, clink against the wooden floor. Something falls to the ground with a particularly nasty sounding crash.

And Tadashi just groans through it all, his mouth twisting into a dark scowl before he can stop it, his head pounding as he writhes beneath his sheer sheets. It's hot— too hot beneath the covers, but he simply rolls onto his side and squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the temperature spike and everything else, to drift back off to sleep because he has a long day ahead of him tomorrow— a day of hospital rounds and night classes and who knows what else penciled in on the calendar— and he's still so tired.

It doesn't work. Another boom permeates the safety of his bedroom walls; the sound of rain pelting the outside wall increases to a dull road. A pathetic bark comes from the kitchen down the hall.

"Baymax," he mumbles a little resentfully, rubbing at his tired eyes even as he moves to sit up. The thin fabric of his sheets stick to his bare skin sickly, like a palpable weight contorted around his legs attempting to keep him in bed, but he simply kicks them off with a huff and lowers himself to the ground. The dark grained wood is cool against his soles; the way his back pops when he raises his arms above his head is heavenly.

He glances at the clock by his bed just as another miserable whine sneaks under the door to his bedroom. Tadashi expects to see bright red numbers flashing across the screen telling him that it's sometime in the early a.m.'s and that he should really be in bed, but instead, the digital screen is dark. Experimentally, he clicks the dial for the lamp perched atop his nightstand.

Nothing. The power is out.

"Fantastic," he grumbles under his breath. Thunder answers him with an echoing boom; a flash of lightning lights the pictures across his dresser before darkness settles. There's another wretched whine from down the hall.

"Okay, Baymax," Tadashi calls affectionately, shaking his head with a crooked sort of smile. "I'm coming, I'm coming, you big baby," he continues as he shuffles into the hallway, feeling along the wall. His head tilts to the side questioningly when he's not immediately mauled by 120-some-odd pounds of terrified white fluff. That's the norm for him on rainy nights like this. "Baymax?"

Another whine comes from the kitchen, followed by the sound of the nervous scurrying of nails across the floor.

Tadashi shrugs to himself— not thinking much of it because Baymax is always a little weird— and makes his way into the more open part of his home, the combined kitchen and living room area. He blinks at the space blearily for a moment, trying to distinguish the shapes of his furniture in the rain-darkened space before scuffling into the room and feeling along the coffee table. He grins in triumph when he feels cool metal beneath his palm.

His cellphone— that, he realizes with a groan, is nearly dead, the screen barely illuminating his face with the pitifully dim display of 2:46 a.m. across the home screen.

Tadashi barely begins to thumb through his contacts list in search of the electric company's number— because he's going to be so late for work if they can't get the power back on and he just can't deal with that right now— when another bark comes from the kitchen.

Dark russet eyes blink and Tadashi twists himself to the side in order to get a better view of the kitchen. A smile immediately stretches across his face as soon as his gaze lands on Baymax, the oversized fluff ball that he is. "Hey, buddy," he calls with a little whistle. He pats his lap in an effort to coax Baymax closer, because Baymax is a cuddly monster at the best of times and it's more than a little strange for him to stay away from his master on nights when the weather is so nasty.

But Baymax doesn't come running like he normally does. Instead, he jumps in place, his nails clink, clinking against the polished floor before he presses his nose against the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard.

Tadashi shakes his head affectionately before advancing on his guard dog. His foot catches on something on the floor and he swings his arms wildly in an attempt to stay upright; one look at the offending object has him groaning morosely. "Baymax," he whines, "please don't tell me you broke my laptop." At least now he knows what the nasty sounding crash was from before; he hopes it isn't broken.

"You're the worst," he mumbles as soon as he reaches him, his fingers sinking into the Great Pyrenees' thick fur as soon as he lowers himself to the ground. His words sound harsh, but his calloused hands work their way into the wiry strands in the way he knows Baymax likes, his arms circling him warmly. Baymax shakes in his hold, frightened by the storm; Tadashi coos at him. "Hey, now, there's nothing to be afraid of. Nothing's out there. It's just a little rain, buddy."

He moves to pull Baymax into his lap like he always does on nights when the rain is heavy, but Baymax wiggles out of his hold. Tadashi blinks at him for a moment, flabbergasted, but then shakes his head— it's probably nothing. Lightning strikes outside, the kitchen is illuminated, and Tadashi suddenly remembers that the power is still out.

He resumes thumbing through his contacts on his cellphone, glad that he kept it nearby, before Baymax barks again— and this time, there's something dangerous about the sound. Something low and warning and—

The hairs on the back of Tadashi's neck stand on end. Cautiously, he rises to his feet, his cellphone in hand, his skin bare except for his particularly ugly plaid boxers. Tadashi knows that Baymax is a horrible guard dog. He's afraid of rainstorms and he has a habit of immediately falling in love with everything within his direct vicinity. He looks large and threatening, but he's really just a giant teddy bear with the mushiest center imaginable. But Baymax is well-trained.

And he doesn't sound like that unless something is very wrong.

Baymax barks again, a growl low in his throat as he presses his nose to the door. It's louder this time, and Tadashi peers into the darkness outside in an attempt to get a better idea of what's going on. He barely manages to make out the twisted form of his neglected hedges before another flash of lightning brightens the backyard.

It's only for a split second— but he sees it, the figure at the end of the walkway, leaning against the gate that leads to the side street. Baymax snarls and all he sees is a flash of black hair and white skin and—

"Holy shi—," he screeches as soon as the light dims. His fingers shake as he attempts to navigate his dying cellphone because there's someone outside his house in the middle of the night and that is just not okay. And he's never really thought about the home invasion/murders that took place in his home fifteen or so years ago since the old lady next door told him about them when he moved in because he's stuck in a twenty year mortgage that he can't afford to get out of but what if they came ba—

His phone slips through his fingers with a resolute clank, and Tadashi can hear the battery skitter across the floor because that happens every time he drops the stupid thing— and then he's on his knees, frantically trying to put it back together, trying not to panic because the battery shakes in his fingers and—

The device gives a measly little beep as soon as he presses the power button, an image of the battery displayed across the screen, flashing ominously until the screen goes dark.

His phone is dead.

Russet eyes stare at the device in horror, facts and statistics running through his head. The power is out. His phone is dead. There is a storm outside. Oh god— it's like every bad horror movie he's ever watched rolled up into one— and he can't stop the panic bubbling in his gut long enough to think clea—

Tadashi jumps when a wet nose presses against his arm, an alarmed gasp escaping his constricting throat. It's cold, and the slight bump is followed by a distressed whine. "It's okay, Baymax," he assures him on instinct, his fingers reacquainting themselves with his soft fur. The dog melds against his side. A pink tongue licks a stripe of saliva across his chest. Normally, Tadashi would push him away in disgust, but tonight he pulls him just a little closer, his heart hammering away in his chest. "Everything's going to be just fine."

The wind picks up outside; the pitter-patter of rain against the glass is loud and ghastly. He holds his breath for the next lightning strike, the next bit of light that will illuminate his yard.

It comes moments later, after Baymax has settled heavily in his lap and goosebumps have risen along his legs from the chilled wood.

The lightning glistens off the rain and brightens the space beyond the glass in a pasty glow. Russet eyes search frantically for the figure from before, for the black hair and the white skin, but there's nothing there. There's nothing at the end of the walkway. There's nothing by the gate.

Baymax licks his cheek just as the light dims— and he laughs, startled and relieved because there's nothing there and Baymax is acting like he's supposed to again. There's nothing wrong. He was just overreacting. He's stressed and tired and he just let the moment get the best of him.

Everything is fine.

"Stupid," he chastises himself with a smile, shaking his head as he gently pushes Baymax off of him. He stretches as he gets to his feet. Baymax clings to his legs, rubbing up against them like an overly affectionate cat. He's still shaking from the rain and his behavior makes it difficult to walk back to the bedroom, but Tadashi's grateful for it. It lets him know that there's absolutely nothing for him to worry about.

But he locks his bedroom door anyway. As a just in case.

May 11, 2015

"I have no idea how you managed this," Tadashi grumbles, his lips set in a firm scowl as his fingers tiredly scrape away at the pink goo underneath his dog's chin. He receives a happy little yap and a wet tongue to his cheek in response. His fingers stop moving and his hand comes up to disgustedly wipe away the layer of saliva with his palm. He glares down at twin watery black orbs. "You gonna be gross?"

Baymax straightens, his white fur puffing out around his chest, his tail sweeping across the polished wooden floor. He's obviously quite pleased with himself.

Tadashi huffs, a startled laugh falling passed his lips as he gets back to work. "You're lucky I like you, you little monster," he grins affectionately.

Carefully, he runs his blunt nails over the wad of bubble gum in an attempt to dislodge it from the animal's thick fur. A small piece breaks off and he deposits it into his palm. Baymax— the ever patient fluff ball that he is— thankfully stays still when he goes back in, his calloused hands tugging at his fur. And with one particularly harsh yank, the entire wad is safely sequestered away in his hand with only a few tuffs of bright white fur mixed in. Baymax barely even twitches.

"Finally. Next time I take you to the children's ward, you're wearing a suit of some kind," he says as he pushes himself to his feet and drops the offending treat into the nearby trashcan. He peers over the kitchen counter once he's done, his tired fingers twisting around the rim of the coffee mug he'd long forgotten he'd placed there; the remaining coffee is lukewarm at best. "Maybe I can get GoGo to make you something out of vinyl," he continues, "You like the noise that makes, right? Plus, it's hypoallergenic— nothing for the parents to complain about there. What'd ya say, buddy? Want to give it a shot?"

Baymax huffs before shaking his head— and while, logically, Tadashi knows the action probably has more to do with the Great Pyrenees trying to straighten out his recently un-clumped fur than his words, he can't stop the tired grin that tugs at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I don't think GoGo would like that too much either. She'd probably accuse me of trying to turn you into a dress up doll." His friend Honey Lemon had done that once— dressed Baymax up for Halloween. Tadashi thought he had made an adorable little doctor, but GoGo had been significantly less pleased with the design.

The dog barks up at him as if in agreement before shuffling away, his nails clink, clinking against the wooden floor. He stops at the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard, his big watery black eyes glancing back at his master forlornly before he flops down onto the ground. His nose touches the glass and he whines.

And Tadashi's too tired to even try to keep the smile off his face.

"No, buddy," he coos, "You can't play outside today. It's raining." Baymax looks back at him long enough to whimper before he goes back to staring at the luscious green grass morosely. He lets out another pitiful whine.

Tadashi just shakes his head, running his hand through his hair to push back his overgrown bangs (he's been meaning to get it trimmed). He'll never understand how Baymax can hate rainstorms, but still love to stomp around when it's just barely drizzling outside, the tiny raindrops barley tap-tapping against the glass. It's absolutely ridiculous— but Tadashi wouldn't have him any other way.

Wearily, he gulps down a swallow of his unfortunately cold coffee with a grimace, his elbows leaning heavily against the counter as he looks out on his yard. The green grass and the newly bloomed aster flowers are pretty, but they do nothing to soothe the fatigue hiding behind his eyes, the tautness along his back. He's tired— no, he's exhausted. He's exhausted from his rounds at the hospital, from the errands he runs in the afternoons and the classes he attends during the middle of the night— from constantly answering questions and never getting enough sleep before he has to start all over again.

He's exhausted from always trying, trying, trying to be the best— to be the person everyone else wants him to be, to be the person his parents always wanted him to be.

But he's not going to quit. Not now, not ever.

"Almost there," Tadashi tells himself— because he is almost there, almost at that final hurdle, the final peak of yes, I've done what I needed to do. He only has a couple more years in medical school. He's in the top of his class; he'll do well. Or, at least, he'll do as well as he can.

Sighing, he glances at his almost empty coffee cup before dumping the remains of it down the sink, watching with vague interest as the dark liquid disappears down the drain. Once it's completely out of sight, he makes himself another glass from the still somewhat warm pitcher on the counter, doctoring it with what's likely too much cream and not nearly enough sugar.

He barely manages to bring the glass to his lips before a snarl from Baymax has his eyes widening and the mug slipping through his fingers, smashing against the granite countertop, the warm liquid dripping over the side and dribbling onto the floor. Shaking fingers feel for the cellphone tucked away in his pocket, hidden in between the strips of worn fabric. His heart pulses in his chest; his throat constricts.

Because there's someone at the gate.

There's someone standing by the back gate— and they have pale white skin and inky black hair and—

He blinks, one eyebrow quirking questioningly as the adrenaline rushing beneath his skin begins to calm. They aren't looking toward the house. Instead, whoever it is appears to be staring at the gate, one hand pressing against it timidly— and Tadashi doesn't understand why they would be doing that because the gate is unlocked. He knows it's unlocked because the lock is broken. GoGo broke it when she was helping him move in and he still hasn't gotten around to having it fixed.

Though, in hindsight, he probably should have moved that up on his to do list after he thought his house was going to be broken into.

But, in his defense, he wasn't even sure that he saw anything that night, that night when Baymax wouldn't come to him like he always does and the rain wouldn't stop and the power wouldn't come back on. He'd stayed awake that entire night and he hadn't heard anything going on outside besides the pitter-pattering of the rain against his window. And he'd checked the backyard as soon as the sun had come back up. There was nothing out of place.

Honestly, until this exact moment, he'd just thought he was seeing things.

Because in the light of day, he'd thought about it. He'd thought about someone wanting to break into his house and it was preposterous— and almost too ridiculous for his own ears, let alone someone else's.

He is just Tadashi Takachiho. He is a medical student at San Fransokyo University and an intern at the children's hospital downtown, but he is no one special. He's not from an exceptionally well off family and the only thing of any real value that he even sort of owns is the house itself, but he'll be paying it off until he's in his forties at the rate he's going and it's not like someone could just break in and steal his home out from under him.

By the time he'd made it back home for lunch after his hospital rotation the next day, he'd all but convinced himself that he'd been hallucinating.

But there really was someone out there that night and now they're back… and not really doing anything at all.

Huh.

Quietly, Tadashi drops a dish towel over the mess on the floor as a reminder to come back to it later (and keep off the broken glass in the meantime) before he shuffles over to Baymax and takes a seat beside him on the floor. The dog growls lowly, pushed back on his haunches, but Tadashi shushes him gently until he begins to calm, his fur straightening along his back, those big black eyes looking to him for some sort of confirmation.

"It's okay," Tadashi tells him, scratching behind one of his ears until the dog fully relaxes, his wet nose pressing against the inside of his pant leg, his head resting heavily across his lap. Baymax stares out at the figure just beyond the yard's boundaries, but he stays quiet. "That's a good boy. We just have a visitor is all it is. No need to get upset."

Cautiously, he leans forward, careful of the dog stretched across his lap, squinting in order to get a better look at their guest. He keeps one hand behind Baymax's ear to keep him calm and the other on the sleek phone in the pocket of his cardigan. As a just in case— he's anything but careless.

Though, he really doesn't think he'll need it. He had the sliding glass door in his kitchen tinted in order to maintain his privacy (and the affordability of his electric bills), but in the fading afternoon light, the area beyond it is fairly clear, even with the steady drops of rain falling from the sky overhead and their pitter-pattering against the glass.

And the someone by the gate really just looks like a boy.

Tadashi can't make out many of the details— because he's simply too far away— but the boy looks like he's a few years younger than himself. He's short and thin, from what he can tell, and his clothes look like they're too big for him, like they're just hanging off his skinny frame.

The fact that the boy is probably homeless hits Tadashi like a splash of cold water, his mouth going slack and gaping open even as the muscles in his back tense— because he's been watching him get rained on and he's probably soaking wet right now and he's going to end up sick if he's not careful and Tadashi's training to be a doctor and— what is he doing?

Momentarily disgusted with himself, he carefully slides Baymax's head off his lap and brings himself to his feet, staggering over to the handle that opens the door. He pushes it, his face scrunching up in concentration because the door refuses to move and— Oh, he realizes with a frustrated sigh, the door's locked.

Tadashi glances out the door quickly to make sure the boy is still there— and he is— before he gets started on the multitude of locks around the door's frame. There's one by the handle that always sticks a little too much and requires more than a little bit of force to lift. There's another one by the corner that connects to the wall, but disconnects with a solid pull— and then there's a tiny metal rod that bonds the panels of glass together but detaches them with the tiniest flick of his wrist.

The door rattles along its track as it slides open, the sound loud and grating. Carefully, Tadashi moves to stand on the back patio— but Baymax beats him to it, running into the yard with all the energy of the puppy he isn't anymore, white fur instantly dampening under the drizzling rain, oversized paws kicking against the grass.

He's knocked down, his butt connecting solidly with the wooden floor before he has time to stop himself, his breath catching in his throat before he even has the chance to stand because—

The boy is gone.

Russet brown eyes scan the area, but he's not there anymore. There's not a trace of him anywhere.

"Baymax," he groans lowly, something like disappointment settling deep in his gut. He's not entirely sure why.

The dog in question barks at him as he rolls in the grass, rubbing his back against it, his tail wagging happily behind him. Tadashi can't help but smile, tiredly taking a seat in the doorway. The boy is gone and he knows from experience that there's no way he's going to be getting Baymax back inside until after he's had his rainy fill, so he resigns himself to waiting.

He's a patient man.

"Maybe he'll drop by again tomorrow," he says to no one.

June 2, 2015

The boy does come back the next day— and the day after that, as well as a sprinkling of other days over the following three weeks. In fact, every time it rains, Tadashi sees the boy through his backdoor without fail. He always stands by the gate. Sometimes, he puts his hand on it, like he's going to open it— though he never does— but most days, he just stands beside it or paces in a small circle nearby.

For the first week, Tadashi tries to talk to him. Every time he sees the boy outside, he attempts to open the door and grab his attention, to possibly figure out why he's there. But the boy is always gone by the time he opens the door. On one particularly desperate occasion, he even attempts to run after him, but by the time he gets to the end of his property, the boy is nowhere to be found— in either direction. It's like he simply vanishes.

That was his last attempt at actually talking with him.

Now, whenever he happens to see the boy outside (normally, Baymax alerts him to his presence. Thankfully, with less growls and more happy barks as the weeks have passed), he grabs a cup of coffee or a little snack and seats himself on the other side of the glass. And once he is completely settled, he starts to talk.

It started out simply enough. In the beginning, he would casually start a one-sided conversation with Baymax about their wayward visitor. He would ask Baymax questions that he knew the dog had no way of answering, like 'Do you know where he came from?,' or, 'Have you seen him before?,' or even, 'What do you think someone like that would smell like, hmm?.' Baymax never answered him back with anything other than a lick to his elbow or a wet nose pressed to his thigh, so eventually, Tadashi stopped drawing him into the conversation at all.

Instead, he started talking to the boy directly.

Tadashi would say whatever was on his mind to the thin boy through the tinted glass while he watched him fiddle with the back gate. Sometimes, whenever Tadashi would say something particularly nonsensical or profound, he would look up and he would see big brown eyes, but most of the time, the boy kept his gaze locked on the ground.

But Tadashi didn't really mind. Somehow, even though he knew that there was no way the boy could hear him, it was easier to talk to him when he wasn't quite looking. Because, sometimes, Tadashi would tell him things he had never told anyone else before. Personal things, hateful things, wrong things.

He opened up to him about the other intern at the hospital that kept taking credit for his work. He complained to him about the professor that used to date his mother but hates Tadashi because he looks like his father. He ranted to him about the cold coffee in the break room and the homework that keeps eating into his sleep at night.

He told him about how lonely he's been since his parents died the year before, about how unsure he is about completing their dream for him because he doesn't think he'll make a very good doctor and he's always enjoyed robotics more anyway.

Over time, talking with the stranger became strangely therapeutic for him, if a little less than sane— who else talks with their would-be robber?

And honestly, he'd come to like the boy during their one-sided chats.

Even though Tadashi can't hear him talk back to him (not that the boy even knows he's being spoken to), he finds his behavior out by the gate to be quite endearing. It is the little things that put a smile on his face whenever he sees him, like the way he sometimes stops his pacing long enough to run his hand through his hair or the way the tips of his fingers end up in his mouth every once in a while— an anxious habit perhaps? It doesn't really matter what he's doing; Tadashi just likes having him around.

He's glad the boy started visiting.

Not everyone agrees with him.

"Who is that," Honey Lemon asks as she stands over his stove with her hip cocked to the side and a wooden spoon held carefully in her hand. It takes him a moment to realize that she is looking at his backyard, her pretty green eyes squinted underneath her large magenta-rimmed glasses.

A wide smile stretches across his face when he leans against the counter to see what she's talking about. The boy is out by the gate again today. He isn't surprised; it is raining after all.

"That's just Raindrop," he explains like it's the most natural thing in the world, his voice slightly stuffy from the unfortunate case of the flu he managed to pick up from an adorable little girl by the name of Abigail during his rounds earlier that week. He's still not entirely sure how she managed to vomit all over him even though he was clearly holding up a trashcan, but he's not particularly upset about it. Especially since it seems that he only has enough time to visit with his friends when he's ill.

It's funny how the world works sometimes.

Baymax woofs from underneath Fred's skilled hands, his tail wagging back and forth behind him like he's trying to put his two cents into their conversation. Fred just scratches him a little more thoroughly behind the ears. "Raindrop," he questions, his interest piqued, "Is that some kind of alias or something? It's kind of lame— I mean, from a superhero standpoint. Unless he has control over the weather or something because that would be mad cool, but X-Men's Storm kind of already has that one— and you can't just steal superpowers. Then you're just a remake and—"

"I doubt he's a superhero," Tadashi cuts him off with a laugh, coughing under his breath. "It's just a nickname, since I don't know his real one. It's because he always stops by whenever it's raining. You know, like a raindrop?"

"Always stops by…," Honey reiterates with a mumble, nibbling at her lower lip. Green eyes glance back at him with something like concern, "You've never talked to him?"

Tadashi shrugs, resting heavily against the counter, russet brown eyes staring out at the rain-soaked figure. "Nah. I've tried, but he's pretty skittish."

"How long has he been coming here," GoGo demands, her almond-shaped eyes squinting dangerously as she glances outside. Wasabi follows right along behind her, his head worriedly shifting between the figure outside, his less-than-pleased girlfriend, and Tadashi himself.

The air between them stiffens, tenses, and Tadashi's not entirely sure why.

"Probably about a month," he answers honestly; he sees no reason to lie. "I'm not exactly sure. I mean, I first noticed it about a month ago. It could be longer than that." He shrugs again, a weak smile twisting up the corners of his lips even as GoGo rounds on him.

"What," she says, and it's not a question, her jaw clenching and her teeth grinding together. Her arms cross over her chest— and if Tadashi didn't realize she was angry before, the way her brown eyes narrow certainly gives him an accurate indication. "He's been doing that for a month and you have no idea who it is? What were you even thinking, Tadashi?"

"I—," Tadashi starts before his mouth snaps closed, his head tilting questioningly to the side. On the other side of GoGo, he can just barely see Raindrop pacing behind the gate. One of his hands it caught up in his hair. "I don't understand what the problem is…?"

"You don't understand? What is the matter with you?"

He blinks. He's seldom seen GoGo angry— and he's certainly never seen her quite like this, incredulous and strangely volatile. At least, not towards him. "I…"

"You—"

Honey Lemon cuts her off with a sweet smile and the clanking of the spoon against the side of the pot of stew she's been making for the last hour and a half. Green eyes glance at GoGo for a moment, as if begging her to calm down, before coming back to Tadashi. "I think what GoGo's trying to say is that it's a little… strange to have someone just— stop by like this without you knowing them," she says slowly, "It's a little weird."

"Yeah, man," Fred adds from the living room, pushing himself out of the armchair so he can shuffle into the kitchen. Baymax follows at his heels before breaking away from him to lie at Tadashi's feet; his belly is warm against his toes. "It's kind of creepy. I mean, it'd be totally creepy if you knew the guy too, but since you don't it's, like, massively creepy."

"What," Tadashi questions, taking in his friend's worried eyes, his shoulders hunching defensively. "He's not creepy!"

"It's a little creepy," Wasabi agrees, adding, "It's also not safe. He could be a robber or a stalker or—"

"Well, he isn't," Tadashi stresses. "Raindrop never even comes into the backyard!"

"That you know of," GoGo mutters under her breath, turning away from him to fiddle with the locks on the door, twisting them with practiced ease because she's the one who helped him install the new tracks less than six months ago.

"What are you doing," he asks her, strangely panicked by the idea of her opening the door, by the idea of her scaring Raindrop away. Adrenaline rushes through his veins and he moves to stand, despite the way it makes his head pound and spots dance before his eyes from his fever.

Wasabi pushes him back down quietly, discretely wiping his hands on his dark jeans as if that would save him from the germs he's already picked up. "Even if he doesn't come onto the property, you should probably be at least a little worried by this. I mean— why is he even doing it? There's got to be a reason, right?"

"Well, yeah," he acquiesces, turning to look at Wasabi's broad shoulders and drooping dreadlocks. "But, it doesn't necessarily have to be a bad reason, you know. He could be here for something completely innocent."

"Then why wouldn't he just come to the front door," Honey asks him calmly, straightening out the sleeves of her yellow jacket. Carefully, she repositions her glasses to keep them from sliding off her nose as she leans over to check on their dinner. It appears to be satisfactory because she turns back to him a moment later, smiling at him innocently. "If he's not here for anything bad, he could just ring the doorbell, right?"

"Of course he could, but maybe he's just shy or scared or someth—"

"Hey!"

The glass door rattles along its track as it's slammed open, GoGo's voice echoing both inside where the world is dry and comfortable and outside where the rain is still dropping onto the grass and the humidity clings heavily to the air.

"Shit," she curses. Raindrop is gone, but that doesn't stop her from tearing across the rain-dampened grass a second later, hell bent on finding him.

Tadashi watches in horror as she leaps over the back gate and takes off down the side street, apparently having seen where he'd gone. He moves to follow her as soon as the shock wears off— but he only makes it halfway to the door before Baymax is running under his feet and trying to escape out into the rain.

He bends down to catch him, but he barely manages to brush against his fluffy white tail before Baymax is outside again, happily frolicking amongst the steady drizzle and rolling around in the shallow puddles.

Raindrop and GoGo will have to wait.

It takes Fred and Wasabi fifteen minutes to get Baymax back inside (Honey insists that Tadashi isn't allowed to help because he's sick— "You need to take better care of yourself, Tadashi."), and by the time they're done, they're both damp around the shoulders and knees and Baymax is absolutely soaked. Tadashi towels him off quietly and attempts to not be angry with his friends for possibly scaring away his therapeutic visitor. Because, really, he understands why they find it a little weird and creepy and he gets why they think Raindrop could possibly be somewhat unsafe— but at the same time, he's still an adult and it's hard to quell the anger and disappointment that lingers just inside his chest.

It gets a little easier when GoGo comes back just as they're setting the table, soaking wet and scowling.

She didn't catch him. Not even close. And Raindrop is back again the next day.

June 8, 2015

"Ah, Mr. Takachiho! Mr. Takachiho!"

Tadashi stops in his tracks, his mint green Converses scuffing along the sidewalk as he sighs lightly and glances up at the quickly darkening sky in an effort to compose himself. Carefully, he plasters a smile on his face and turns toward the gentleman behind him.

He's an elderly man with a stressed forehead and laugh lines around his sharp blue eyes, but he looks strangely familiar. Very few people use Tadashi's last name outside of his school professors, so he assumes that the man knows him from his internship at the hospital, but he seldom works with anyone over the age of eighteen— maybe he's a parent? He has to stifle a groan at the thought; Tadashi hopes he isn't one of the overbearing ones about to request a house call for a slight case of the sniffles. He gets far too many of those.

"I'm glad I caught you, Mr. Takachiho," the man says, smiling widely as he straightens out the sleeves of his crisp maroon shirt over his veiny wrists. "I tried to find you at the hospital, but when I stopped by they said you were out sick?" It's a statement, but it sounds more like a question with the way the man's voice lilts at the end. One of his thick grey eyebrows rises, glancing between Tadashi and the leash in his hands, obviously questioning the excuse. Strangely, his thin lips pull into a smile.

Dark brown eyes blink; their owner tightens his grip on Baymax's lead, even though the oversized dog sits calmly beside him, his head pressed against Tadashi's knee. He's marginally offended that the man thinks he lied to get out of work, but at the same time, he reminds himself that he needs to be polite. He doesn't want to reflect poorly on the hospital. He forces the smile on his face to widen as he explains, "I just had a small bout of the flu— nothing serious. I should be back at the hospital next week, Mr.…?"

"Sorry, where are my manners," the man questions himself, his blue eyes crinkling with mirth. Confidently, he holds out his hand as he introduces himself, "I'm Robert Callaghan. You took care of my granddaughter, Abigail, when I took her to the hospital with the flu last week. And she apparently repaid you by passing it along. I'm sorry about that."

"Oh, don't worry about it— it comes with the territory. I'm sorry for not recognizing you," Tadashi mumbles, a familiar pink blush beginning to stain his cheeks. "I'm horrible at matching faces to names. It always takes me a few times to get it right," he tries to explain as he moves to shake the man's hand. His grip is firm, like that of a soldier's, and it takes all Tadashi can do to squeeze back without winching. He stares at the man awkwardly once it's over, anxiously moving Baymax's lead back and forth between his hands as he clears his throat. "So, umm, what can I help you with today, sir?"

"I just wanted—"

Baymax cuts him off with a bark, and Tadashi's forced to quit his nervous fiddling and tighten his grip on the leash when the dog begins to pull at it. He smiles at Robert embarrassedly before sending a pointed look to Baymax. "Baymax," he calls as a warning. The dog looks up at him with twin watery black orbs before shaking his head back and forth, tugging on the lead, obviously upset that their evening walk is being interrupted. "No, Baymax," he says sternly. As soon as Baymax calms, he glances back up sheepishly. "I'm sorry about that. He's just a little antsy because we haven't gone out today. He's normally not like this."

Robert laughs, his sharp blue eyes almost squinting with the force of it as small chuckles pass through his lips. "No, no. I'm obviously interrupting your evening. I just wanted to thank you personally for taking care of Abigail. You can get back to your walk."

"Oh— I, umm… you're welcome?" Tadashi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "It was really no trouble."

"Of course," he smiles as he begins to walk away, turning on his heel. "Take care, Mr. Takachiho."

Tadashi watches him leave, staring transfixed at the way his charcoal grey slacks crinkle at his knees and pool around his polished brown shoes. Baymax is the one who pulls him out of his stupor, barking up at him and bumping his head against his knee as he tugs along the lead. He laughs, "Okay, okay, Mr. Impatient. We're going."

Shaking his head fondly, he allows Baymax to turn them around and lead them down the street, his fluffy white tail wagging happily behind him. When Baymax starts to speed up, Tadashi unlocks the leash and gives him a few more feet of slack so he can continue on without him being so close by. He's instantly glad that it's already so late out, with the sun almost gone completely and the last bits of violet and orange and pink disappearing from the sky. The streets are emptier than normal, so he doesn't have to worry about Baymax tangling himself up with some poor unsuspecting patron— it'd happened before (more than once).

Usually, he doesn't walk Baymax so late in the day. In fact, he typically doesn't walk him at all because he's constantly bustling from place to place to run errands throughout the day and the dog gets more than enough exercise tagging along with him. But, since he was too sick to attend his night classes for the last few sessions, he spent the greater part of the day catching up on his classwork. Baymax had started to get a little too rowdy just as he was finishing up one of his essays— his second one of the day— so he decided he could spare him at least a little bit of time.

Besides, he wanted to get out of the house. It's a beautiful day out, a lovely contrast to all of the rain San Fransokyo has been pelted with over the past month, but Raindrop never stops by when it's not raining and Tadashi can't quite hide his disappointment.

He tries to be happy with the sunshine anyway.

Tadashi stops when he feels the leash pull against his palm, quirking his mouth slightly to the side as his eyes follow it to Baymax's bright red collar. The dog is lying beside a bench, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, panting. He's also several feet behind him; Tadashi had walked right passed him.

"Tired, buddy," he asks as he takes a seat beside him, his knees popping wonderfully as he bends to run his hand through the dog's thick fur. Baymax glances up at him before pressing his head between his oversized paws, his chin resting against the concrete. Tadashi shoots him a smile before straightening up, setting his leash to the side and clenching and unclenching his hands in an attempt to keep them from cramping as they were always wont to do whenever he was forced to keep Baymax on his leash for long periods of time.

One of Baymax's ears twitch and he makes a short huffing sound before sitting back up. His tail whips back and forth behind him, thump, thump, thumping against the side of the bench. Tadashi blinks at him, his head tilting just slightly to look down at him, one of his hands hesitantly fingering the leash. "Hey, there, find something you like?"

Big black eyes look at him— and a little bark is all the warning he gets before Baymax starts running, the leash slithering out of Tadashi's slackened hands.

"Baymax," he yells in alarm, jumping to his feet and running after him, sidestepping the few pedestrians that are still on the street. His flat-soled shoes slap against the pavement as he reaches the street corner, his eyes widening in horror as he watches the end of Baymax's leash slip out of sight.

A startled yelp and a crash follow almost immediately.

Tadashi's breath catches in his throat as he rounds the corner, terror racing through his veins at the sight before him. Oh god, oh god, oh god—

There is a boy sprawled across the ground with his 120-and-something pound dog lying across his chest and licking at his chin and— he's trying to protect his face with his hands and—

"Oh, man— I am so sorry. I don't— I don't know what came over him!" Hastily, Tadashi grabs the forgotten leash and tugs the dog off, ignoring the way he whines as he brings him back to his side. He bends down and wraps his fingers around his collar to ensure he stays there. "He's really not like this… I mean, sometimes he gets a little excited when I have friends over— but he doesn't do this to strangers and— he's not dangerous or anything like that! He probably just wanted to play or— or— Oh, man— Are you okay?"

He winces to himself as the boy moves, as he brings his hands away from his face and lifts himself so he's leaning back on his palms. There's a scratch on his chin and there's a spot of blood by one of his elbows where his jacket ripped and—

His big brown eyes look horribly familiar.

"Yeah— Umm, yeah. I'm fine," he mumbles, and somehow, his voice is much deeper than Tadashi expected. Disgustedly, the boy wipes a spot of saliva off his face with his sleeve before standing. Baymax tries to move toward him with a whine, and one inky black eyebrow disappears behind the boy's bangs even as he takes a cautious step back, his palms pressed out in front of him. "Maybe I, uh, smell like food or…something?"

"I have no idea," Tadashi smiles at him tensely, trying to reassure him that he has his dog completely under his control now and that there's absolutely nothing for him to worry about. He locks Baymax's leash in place before standing. "He's never done anything like this before."

"Well, there's a, uh, first time for everything, right? So, umm…," the boy trails off. He glances up at Tadashi weakly before shuffling his feet and looking toward the ground. His bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth.

Something in Tadashi's chest prickles warmly, and he's not entirely sure why. "I am really, really sorry about this," he stresses before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. With shaking fingers, he pulls out a stack of bills and holds it in front of him as an offering. "Here," he says.

Doe brown eyes blink at him. "No— no, I don't… I don't want that. It's fine. Really, I'm fine."

"It's for— for your jacket. I'm sorry Baymax ripped it. Really."

"Oh," he mumbles, his mouth forming a cute little 'o' as he twists his arm around, his eyes lighting up with understanding as he sees the hole at his elbow. He shakes his head, and unruly black hair shakes with it. "It's cool. It was old anyway. Really." Skinny shoulders shrug; mud-caked trainers shuffle along the pavement.

Tadashi glances down at the money in his hand before looking back up at rounded cheeks and almond-shaped eyes. Reluctantly, he moves to put it away. Baymax whines against his leg and pulls, tugging him just a few inches closer to the boy with the scruffy hair and the baggy clothes and— "Have we met before," he asks slowly, just the slightest hint of recognition yanking at his chest.

The boy looks at him before shaking his head. "I don't think so," he says just as slowly. One of his fingertips migrates to his mouth out of what looks to be a childhood habit and Tadashi's jaw drops.

"I do know you," he exclaims a little too quickly, excitement jumping through his veins, "I saw you outside my house!"

Big brown eyes widen, caught. "I don't know what you're talking—"

The boy— Raindrop, Raindrop, Raindrop— runs, sprinting down the sidewalk—and Tadashi can do little else but chase after him, not really thinking about the consequences or what he must look like, pursuing a teenager with an oversized dog zealously pulling at his leash, barking all the while. Raindrop doesn't look back to see if Tadashi's still behind him when he crosses the street and zips down an alley, but Tadashi thinks he must know with the way his pace quickens the longer and longer they run.

It doesn't matter. He's not giving up this time.

By the time Raindrop ducks into a café almost six full blocks from where they began, there's a heavy stitch in Tadashi's side and an uncomfortable amount of sweat gluing his shirt to his back, but he rushes into the small building anyway—

And runs right into a server.

The two of them sprawl onto the floor in a tangle of limbs and panicked yelps just as Baymax's leash is tugged from his hands. The next few minutes are chaos.

Later, when the café is closed down because of the mess and Tadashi meets with the owner— a lovely woman who he's sure must be a saint for not immediately trying to kill him for ruining her restaurant, he learns that the charming little café that Raindrop ducked into is called The Lucky Cat. He also learns that its mascot is the owner's pet cat that likes to hang out by the cash register during business hours.

Luckily, Baymax thinks cats are precious and just scared the poor thing when he ran it under most of the restaurant's tables.

Unluckily, Tadashi ends up cleaning up the mess while covered in a pitcher of some sort of tea, at least one mug of cold coffee (it wasn't nearly so cold when it fell on him), and a rather interesting assortment of baked goods.

Oh, and Raindrop got away. Again.

June 9, 2015

The next evening, when the sun is mostly drooping in the sky and the clock is tick, ticking sometime passed five, Tadashi's doorbell rings.

His mouth quirks at the shrill noise, his russet brown eyes glancing out the living room window. He doesn't see anyone outside— not a living body or a vehicle parked in his small driveway— but he shrugs and pulls himself to his feet anyway. The doorbell rings again just as he pushes his chair back.

"Coming," Tadashi yells. Hastily, he marks his spot in the textbook he's reading with one of his extra pencils before trudging across the living room. Baymax blinks up at him from his spot by the recliner, his ears just slightly perked as his tail flicks back and forth. Tadashi sends him a pointed look. "Stay."

Baymax whines and his tail stills, dejected. Tadashi scowls at him; he's still a little upset about the incident at the café, even though he concedes that it was somewhat his own fault. He should have known better than to chase after someone who obviously didn't want to be caught, especially with his dog in tow.

Whoever's at the door presses the doorbell again before rapping their knuckles against the door in rapid session, the knock, knock, knock echoing just slightly against the thick wood.

Tadashi puffs out his cheeks, momentarily annoyed. Distantly, he wonders if he forgot to pay his homeowner's association fees again. The thought makes him groan in aggravation because they hound him every month and he's under the distinct impression that they keep changing the billings dates just to mess with him. With that in mind, he opens the door expecting to see a polished man with blue eyes and a too-big nose or maybe even the sharp-looking woman that sometimes comes door-to-door for him with her square glasses and disapproving eyebrows.

He gets neither of those people.

"I'm really, really sorry," Raindrop wheezes as soon as Tadashi opens the door, his body bent at an almost ninety degree angle in a low bow, all skinny shoulders and fluffy black hair. There's an unmistakable tremble along the boy's spine when he looks up at him, his big brown eyes wide and his pretty pink lips folded into an uncomfortable grimace.

Tadashi blinks, dumbfounded. "Hi…?" Raindrop straightens up hesitantly. He's in a different hooded jacket than he was in the day before, but the material still seems to swallow him with the way his shoulders hunch. He stares up at Tadashi, seemingly waiting for something— anything— and Tadashi finally processes what Raindrop said as soon as he opened the door. "You're sorry," he reiterates slowly; the boy nods, "About what?"

He's genuinely curious. Tadashi's not upset with Raindrop about running away from him, or even spending his rainy days right outside his backyard. Tadashi doesn't know his reasoning for either and it's not like he didn't enjoy his visits (even if the boy didn't know about any of Tadashi's confessions). He is somewhat irritated with the amount of time he lost the night before attempting to remove pastry crème from his hair, but that was really his own fault.

Raindrop doesn't seem to notice his placid tone, his shoulders pulling even farther inward, his elbows tucked closely to himself like he's attempting to disappear. His fingers even twist around the extra length in his jacket sleeves. "Everything," he mumbles quietly. His almond-shaped eyes glance up at Tadashi shamefully before scurrying away.

Russet brown eyes stare at him oddly. Baymax's head bumps against Tadashi's leg as he tries to greet their guest and Tadashi gently nudges it back inside by leaning heavily against the doorframe, never once taking his eyes off the boy's bent shoulders and hung head.

The boy looks uncomfortable.

"Why have you been hanging around outside my house," Tadashi finally asks after a long stretch of silence, genuinely curious. Raindrop lifts his head just high enough for Tadashi to see his lower lip pulled between his teeth. His mud-caked trainers shuffle along the concrete path in silence. "I'm not mad or anything," Tadashi adds reassuringly, his voice calm, a smile pulling at his lips, "I mean, it freaked me out the first time, but I think Baymax already paid you back for that one yesterday, so…?"

"Heh, yeah," Raindrop murmurs, his lips just barely quirking into a small smile. It drops away again almost immediately afterwards, his foot twisting inwards, his chin ducking down and his fingers fiddling nervously with his sleeves. Finally, he says, "I'm scared of your house." He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth, hastily looking up at Tadashi with wide brown eyes. "When it rains— I mean. I'm scared of your house when it rains and I thought I could get over it by coming here and— and I swear I wasn't going to steal anything or break in or— or—"

Raindrop cuts himself off with a groan, hiding his face in his hands. Tadashi can still see the spots of pink coloring his cheeks; he thinks it's quite charming, something like warmth spreading through his chest.

"I didn't think you were," he assures him, shrugging just slightly. The boy blinks up at him, disbelief coloring his almond-shaped eyes, and Tadashi can do little else but smile soothingly. "So," he drawls, "you're scared of my house." Raindrop nods minutely. "Is there a particularly reason why? Did I… do something?"

Raindrop shakes his head and fluffy black hair shakes with it. One fingertip slides into the boy's mouth anxiously, his teeth instantly nibbling at his nail. "Promise not to freak out," he asks.

One inky black eyebrow rises apprehensively, "Uh, sure…?"

"Okay— okay." The boy takes a deep breath before letting it out, his chest visibly expanding before deflating again. He pulls his finger from his mouth only to wrap it around the fabric of his jacket's sleeve. To the ground, he says, "My parents were, uh, murdered here a long time ago."

Tadashi sucks in a breath, momentarily horrified— because he had thought that the murderer had come back all those many nights ago in his panic and it wasn't the murderer at all— as he sucks in a breath. "Oh."

"No, no—," Raindrop cuts himself off, waving his arms wildly in front of him, his eyes wide as he continues, "I don't really remember them and I was just walking through the neighborhood one night when my head started to get all fuzzy at the end of your drive and I couldn't breathe and it was raining and— and it turns out that I used to live here and— and now every time it rains, I can't breathe properly so I thought I'd come here and try to fix it and I'm really, really, sorry for everything and— I'll just leave now. This was a stupid idea."

He twists at his heel and turns to leave, his arms hanging uselessly at his side, his rushed voice echoing in Tadashi's head. For a moment, russet brown eyes watch him take a hurried step and then another as something like disappointment and terror flickers in his gut, as his throat begins to constrict.

Tadashi knows Raindrop won't be coming back if he lets him leave now. He knows he won't be seeing timid hands on his back gate or fingers twisted in mouths during rainstorms. He won't get to watch skinny legs pace back and forth just beyond his property. He won't get to pour his heart out to the endearing figure beyond the tinted glass.

He doesn't want him to leave.

"No, wait," Tadashi grabs his skinny wrist before he can stop himself, his calloused fingers keeping him firmly in place as big brown eyes stare back at him. He smiles, "It's okay. Really. I— I'm sorry about what happened, but you can keep coming here if you want. I don't mind."

"You don't mind…," Raindrop reiterates in disbelief. Slowly, he turns back toward the house and takes a step back. Tadashi lets him go easily, and the boy glances at him before thrusting out his hand. "Hiro," he says. A little louder, "Hiro Hamada."

Hiro's fingers tremble in his hand, but the smile that twists Tadashi's lips is bright enough for the both of them. "Tadashi Takachiho," he beams as he pulls his hand back. He glances up at the sky thoughtfully. "It's not raining now," he says, "Would you like to come in?"

Doe brown eyes blink at him. A small smile pulls at his lips.

"Yeah. I think I'd like that."

And that's all she wrote. (Not really).

More present tense practice because I have apparently forgotten how to write in past tense. Please let me know if I messed it up anywhere. I'll try to go back and change it.

Production: Next up is a Cooking Class AU featuring a Tadashi that can't cook, a difficult Hiro, and me attempting to woo you with my lame attempts at humor. It'll be up eventually (probably).

Reviews are welcomed and responded to. I'd love to hear your thoughts! 3