Hello everyone! For all of my new followers, WELCOME! I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy composing it. As for you returning readers, welcome back! Thank you for venturing with me this far. Spring Break is just coming to an end for me, but I'm definitely excited to have Chapter Nine up and running. The next few weeks will be crazy, so bear with me, and I'll post Chapter Ten as soon as I can. On that note, let's see what's going on in San Fransokyo today!

Nothing could possibly prepare me for Kenji's reaction.

Here, I confess everything to him; my involvement in Yokai's arrest and incarceration, my being a member of the Big Hero 6, my theory that Krei was murdered…It's all out in the open between us. With such heavy and serious subject matter, one would think that he would be shocked, dumbfounded, even upset. But his response is completely unexpected.

He laughs. It's soft at first, then louder until he's guffawing, like everything I've told him is a gag.

"Uh, Kenji…?" I ask, meekly.

"Oh, man," he says, slapping his thigh. "This is the best news I've heard all day."

Not knowing what to expect, I press him. "R—Really?"

"Absolutely," he replies, wiping a couple stray tears from the corners of his eyes. "I was having the worst day ever until now. Thank you for that."

"So…You're not upset? Not shocked or anything?"

Kenji shakes his head. "Well, I can't say that I'm surprised."

My eyes widen, but only for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I had my suspicions about you," he answers, running a hand through his curtain of dark brown hair. "Every time I've wanted to hang out, you were 'busy.' In hindsight, your turning down my offers was usually followed by breaking news involving the Big Hero 6. Sooner or later, I put two and two together. Besides, the guy in the purple suit looked really familiar…"

He playfully nudges me, and I suddenly feel all worry and concern wash away. Kenji's the first person to know my secret, and he's perfectly okay with it. This certainly could have gone a lot worse, but to see him laughing, smiling, and being supportive gives me sweet relief.

Then, before anything further is said, he adds, "I want to help."

Now things are getting serious. "Wait, Kenji, that's not why I…"

"I'm not giving you an option here, Hiro," he replies, a stern expression suddenly cemented on his face. "After everything you've done for me, it's the least I can do."

My expression crinkles in confusion. "Wait, what have I done for you? I haven't done anything to speak of."

He chuckles. "Oh yes, you have. You just aren't aware of it."

Dipping his feet into the water, he splashes for a second before launching into his explanation.

"All my life, I've been treated like an outcast, an outsider. The word 'no' has been tossed around quite a bit in my time and, quite frankly, I'm sick of it."

Pausing momentarily, he takes a shaky breath. "No matter what I do, it just isn't good enough for anybody. My teachers, my mentors, even my own father…Despite my best efforts, I'm still seen as nothing, a nobody, even after all these years.

"But then, you come along, with your boundless optimism and enthusiasm. Not only do you become my friend, but what do you do? You treat me like an actual human being. Do you know what that's like, how refreshing it is? I know it must seem so trivial and stupid to you, but it means the world to me."

It's definitely difficult to hold back the tears. I never knew I could make anyone feel that way. After all, shoving people aside seems to be my strongest point, especially in light of Tadashi's death. But Kenji's eloquence hits me like a punch to the heart, and his sincerity shows. Knowing that I've made him feel better makes me feel good about myself.

"Wow, Kenji," I stammer. "I—I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll let me help you," he begs. "I'm not a fighter or a warrior, but I'm quick and stealthy. I can be like your spy or something, snagging all the important information about your enemies."

Suppressing a giggle, I accept his offer, but not before the two of us hug.

"So," Kenji says, after we've disengaged. "What's our first order of business?"

We agree to rendezvous a week later for our first assignment as a team.

The reason for the delay is that I needed some time to make a few minor adjustments on my supersuit. Of course, by "minor adjustments," I mean fairly sizeable enhancements, upgrades.

Seeing Dr. Droid at the power station gave the team an idea as to what we're up against. He's quick, that's for sure, with the speed and cunning of a fox. In order to level the playing field between us, I looked into thrust and jet propulsion, the same tech I researched when making Baymax 2.0.

My research culminates with the creation of a kind of jetpack one wears like a backpack. However, the seemingly ordinary pack is also equipped with metallic wings for direction and stable flight. When the device is off, they fold and retract into the sides of the machine for easy storage and stowing away.

As for Dr. Droid himself, he and his robotic forces remain in the shadows for the time being. Their silence is disturbing. I see it almost as the calm before the storm. He's up to something, and when it breaks, it isn't going to be pretty.

On the night in question, a week after my "confession," Kenji arrives at the Palace of Fine Arts before I do. Clad in a black hoodie sweatshirt, black sweatpants, black gloves, and black Chuck Taylors, he resembles a kind of urban ninja. To complete the look, the sweatshirt is zipped all the way up and the hood is pulled over his head, so that only his eyes can be seen.

Removing the hood, he presses his left finger to his ear. "Hiro, do you copy?"

"Yep, I read you loud and clear," I reply into my earpiece.

He looks around, scanning the immediate surroundings, the whooshing sound on the line loud and cacophonous. "Dude, where are you?"

"I'm on my way in."

"What do you mean, 'in'…?"

With a sound above the trees, Kenji's bewildered eyes shoot skyward as I land in a clearing a little ways ahead.

"Whoa!" Kenji shouts, running over to me. "I didn't know you could fly!"

Laughing, I flip the visor on my helmet. "I couldn't until yesterday," I answer, indicating the jetpack, mechanical wings still outstretched. "These are some new upgrades." With a click of a red button on the left shoulder strap, the wings collapse into the sides of the jetpack, shutting the device off entirely.

"Incredible," he whispers, circling me with awe and curiosity. "You really are brilliant."

"Thank you," I counter with a pantomimed tip of the hat. "Come on, let's go."

We break into a run. The beautiful domed structure appears from behind a wall of Italian cypress trees like a heavenly, illuminated apparition.

"Refresh my memory," Kenji pants. "But why are we here, again?"

"Remember when I told you that Dr. Droid stole your Spider Climber?" I ask.

"Yes…," he answers, slowly. One could hear the wheels starting to turn in his head.

"And remember how his robots tried to steal the particle separator?"

"Right…"

"Well, to me, it's obvious that this guy was an employee at Krei Tech," I respond.

"How do you figure?"

"Because only an insider would know anything about these inventions," I say with satisfaction. "They aren't public knowledge yet. My guess is that, somewhere along the line, he was fired, became disgruntled, and sought revenge by murdering Krei. Now, he's using that very same technology to take the company down."

"Huh," he replies, turning things over in his mind. "So we're here to figure out who this guy is?"

"Bingo," I answer with a smile. "We need to hack into the system, download the file that lists all of the employees who were let go within the past year, and be on our merry way." With one swift motion, I brandish a computer chip from my pocket and hand it to Kenji.

"Got it," he says, pocketing the chip. "Let's do this!"

By now, we've reached the front door of our temporary offices. Withdrawing a pistol from his pocket, Kenji aims the weapon at the doorknob.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!" I stammer, my hands held up. "What are you doing?"

Though most of his face is obscured by the hood, I can tell he's smiling. "You might want to stand back a bit."

Despite my shock, I do as he says. Pulling the trigger, a shockwave blast shoots out of the barrel, blowing the door clean off its hinges.

Eyes wide with awe, I examine the pistol more closely. "Did you make this?"

"Yep, developed it myself," he replies with pride. "It's a shockwave gun. I invented it as a side project about a year ago. I've been thinking of selling it to the military. They could use a weapon like this."

Nodding, impressed, I walk through the entryway with Kenji in my wake. Taking a look around, the immediate surroundings are dark and desolate. The place is deserted at this hour, the sound of our footsteps echoing and reverberating throughout the cavernous hall.

"Good, the coast is clear," I whisper. "Let's get what we need and get out of here."

Kenji springs into action. "Leave that to me."

With an impressive display of cartwheels and round-offs, he tumbles in the direction of Ms. Stevens' office. Running closely behind, I marvel at his athletic abilities.

"Wow, you really are like a spy."

"I told you," he says, removing his hood and flashing me a confident smile. "I'm an asset."

With that, he turns the computer on and plugs the chip into the USB port. Switching on the desk lamp, I stand behind him and watch him work.

"The desktop's blank," I say, my eyes frantically searching Ms. Stevens' computer screen. All that's visible is her wallpaper, which, by the way, is Hokusai's wave. "Where does she keep her files?"

"She uses a secret encryption code to access them," Kenji replies, furiously typing away.

Within seconds upon entering said code, a large folder appears on the screen.

I shoot him a bewildered but skeptical glance. "How do you know the code?"

"No two computer keys make the same sound or timbre when hit," he answers, suavely. "I've memorized the code by listening to her type it."

Shaking my head, quaking with amazed laughter, I can barely contain my wonder. "Maybe you're a robot…"

At this, he laughs. "…Or an alien." He then proceeds to make a spooky noise. We share a chuckle when a ping from the computer interrupts us.

"There it is," Kenji exclaims, pointing to the file. It's titled, simply, "Employee Log."

Double clicking on it, two columns appear in a Word document. The one on the left is "current employees," which is essentially an alphabetical roster of those who still work for the company, complete with addresses and contact information. I manage to spot my name somewhere in the "H's." "Hamada, Hiro."

However, it's the column on the right that grabs my interest. "Terminated" heads this one. Decidedly shorter than the other, there are only a handful of names on this list, around seven.

A hint of a smile appears on my face when I realize that this list is the key to learning Dr. Droid's identity. "He's on here," I say softly. "I can feel it."

Kenji smiles reassuringly as he places his hand on my shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Hiro," he says, nodding. "You have my word."

My heart leaps in my chest at the prospect of finally taking this maniac down. We're coming for you, Dr. Droid, I think to myself.

Little do I realize that this is merely the first step down a long and perilous road.

To be continued…