[ So natural, in fact, that Hiro doesn't even realize it at first. His rush of emotions drain away into a dull ache, something that still hurts but doesn't feel like it might actively drown him. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around Baymax as far as he can reach. He hasn't done anything like this in ages either. Not since he was a relatively tiny kid in a huge high school, clinging to his brother after being trapped in a locker for hours...
And yet it's not quite that either, is it? Another spike of nostalgia goes through him, going back to an even dimmer memory. A faint, fleeting image of two people, warm and comforting. And then a newer memory, of sitting at the table in a familiar kitchen with his brother, getting his first real glimpse of their parents' faces.
He freezes for a moment in Baymax's arms before slowly, awkwardly pulling back just enough to see his face. He knows that face. He saw it in Tadashi's dream, remembers the vaguest hints of it from his own childhood ...
It takes him a moment to do anything but stare. His tears are still shining on his cheeks, wetly. ]
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And yet it's not quite that either, is it? Another spike of nostalgia goes through him, going back to an even dimmer memory. A faint, fleeting image of two people, warm and comforting. And then a newer memory, of sitting at the table in a familiar kitchen with his brother, getting his first real glimpse of their parents' faces.
He freezes for a moment in Baymax's arms before slowly, awkwardly pulling back just enough to see his face. He knows that face. He saw it in Tadashi's dream, remembers the vaguest hints of it from his own childhood ...
It takes him a moment to do anything but stare. His tears are still shining on his cheeks, wetly. ]
Dad?