Two Hamada Brothers (Tadashi/Hiro x Reader)

Chapter Seven: Michiko

You sat up in your bed. Your (F/C) and (O/F/C) room was completely messy. I guess I was too tired to clean up, you thought tiredly. This Hamada brothers drama is taking over my life!

After getting ready, you hurried down the stairs. You skidded to a halt when you saw a huge black rolling suitcase in the living room, along with a smaller purple one. A black briefcase lay open on the sofa.

Oh, great, you thought grimly. You walked into the kitchen, your bare feet pressing against the cold marble tiles. Sure enough, your father was there, along with some lady.

"(Y/N)! You're awake!" your dad said wih fake enthusiasm. You narrowed your left eye, a habit of yours when you were confused or annoyed.

"You're home," you said, your voice monotone.

"I expected more excitement," your dad complained. He was wearing a grey suit and a purple tie, even though it was only like eight in the morning.

"Who's this?" you asked, changing the subject. You slid onto a stool on the kitchen island and poured yourself a glass of orange juice.

"Oh, yes. This is Michiko, by fiance." Your dad shot her a grin. "We're getting married in a month."

"Your fiance?" You almost spit out your sip of juice. You surveyed the lady. She was probably in her early thirties, and she had ultrashiny black hair tied up in a messy, but attractive bun. She wore a tight purple tank top with a black cardigan over it. She had a tight black short skirt, and black heels. Her eyes were an unnatural shade of blue.

Your dad gave you a look. You rolled your eyes and slammed the glass back down on the counter. "Have you forgotten about Mom?" you demanded.

"Of course not," your father said smoothly. "Oh, and here." He took out his thick wallet and handed you a wad of money. "For staying alone for a long time."

You clenched your fists. He was obviously trying to make you cooperate using his money. "I found out how to earn my own money, thanks," you spat. "While you were off hanging out with her." You pointed to Michiko.

"(Y/N)!" your dad said sharply.

"I don't care what you say." You slid off the stool. "Don't expect me for lunch or dinner."

You left the house, tears burning your eyes. As the sun beat down on you, you thought about your father. He was going to marry some lady and forget all about Mom. He would forget about you.

Without thinking, you pulled out your good-as-new bike from the garage, clipped on the helmet, then started biking to the park.

* * *

You spent your whole day in the park, climbing trees and lying in the grass. You didn't care about food. You didn't feel hungry, anyways.

The whole time, you thought about your father. And Michiko. They're going to live me now, you thought. What's it going to be like with a stepmom?

A thought of Hiro and Tadashi crossed your mind once or twice, but you pushed it away.

When the moon was high in the sky, you decided it was time to get back home. You got on your bike, and began pedaling home. You were passing by the bot-fighting alley when suddenly a voice said, "Hey, you."

You braked and turned around. Two teenagers walked up to you. You recognized them; they were part of Kano's group. But they were more of the emo, scrawny guys than the muscular football players.

"What do you want?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

"You." One of them lifted you off your bike. He had jet-black hair and a dash of gold on his bangs. You thrashed around, then fell limp. "Why?" you asked in a low voice.

"Kano's told us all about you," Bumblebee Hair said, holding you firmly. "Now we can get to know you more."

The other guy, with dark brown hair and thick eyeliner, kicked your bike over and helped his buddy hold you still.

"Oh, that's too bad," you said, grabbing his hand before he could touch you. "Because I know martial arts, and you'll regret it if you do anything to me."

Bumblebee Hair scoffed. "You can try using your 'martial arts,' but it isn't going to help."

"Wow, really?" you rolled your eyes and jerked yourself to the side, pulling him down onto the concrete. He gained the upper hand, holding you down on the dirty ground. You stuck your knee into his stomach and kicked him. You would have gotten away if it wasn't for Eyeliner Guy. He grabbed your shirt collar and pushed you against the brick wall. You kicked him right in. . . well, you know.

You grabbed a fistful of Bumblebee Hair's golden locks and threw him to the ground.

"I'll be back by nine!" a familiar voice said. Footsteps approached. Oh, great, you thought, planting a foot on Bumblebee Hair, who was on the ground, still.

Then Hiro turned the corner, holding a robot. He stopped. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" You walked back to your bike and clipped on your helmet. "It's called defense."

"It's called beating up random teenagers," Hiro retorted, but his eyes were wide and impressed.

"Call it what you want, shrimp," you said, starting up your bike. "Have fun bot fighting." With a raised brow, you rode off.

* * *