Two Hamada Brothers (Tadashi/Hiro x Reader)

Chapter Eight: Dad.

"(Y/N), are you awake?" There was a knock at the door.

You rolled your eyes. Of course you were. You were just staying in your room.

"Uh, yeah. It's one o'clock," you pointed out.

Your dad poked his head in. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." You were crouched over your desk, sketching madly. Your dad stepped inside and looked around. "Why is it so messy in here?"

"No time to clean."

Your dad sat down on your (F/C)-and-white bed. "So, (Y/N), I haven't seen you in five months," he said, obviously trying to make conversation.

"And two weeks, and four days," you added, grabbing an eraser.

"Yes," your dad said. "So, tell me what's been going on! How did you earn money?"

"Well, I applied for SFIT. I don't want to go to San Fransokyo High this year."

"What? Why not? You're not even a junior yet!" Your dad leaped to his feet.

"It's way too easy," you protested, pushing off your swivel chair, gliding backwards across the room. You stopped the chair at your dresser and grabbed colored pencils. "Besides, I don't even talk to anyone there.

"High school work is too basic. I've been using my brilliant mind on this. My robot." You spun around and held out your sketch. "This is how I earn money. You say that a great mind makes great money, right?"

"You- you go botfighting?" Your father was aghast. "But that's illegal!"

"Of course it is. But hey, I get big bucks, like you."

"Don't you know how dangerous that is? You could get hurt!" He began to pace the room, sidestepping balled paper and pencils.

"It's not like you care," you retorted. "You're too busy planning your wedding, anyways. Besides, I know martial arts. I can defend myself."

"And you spend your money on this?" Your dad stopped and pointed at the huge bear against the wall.

"Stop freaking out. I didn't buy that."

"And I suppose the bear walked into my house. Where did you get this, then?"

"It was a present from someone," you said, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Who? You're in a relationship already?"

"It doesn't matter! Just go decide your wedding cake flavor and leave me alone!" You shoved him out the door.

Ugh, dads, you thought. It was barely one minute until your dad burst into the room again. "(Y/N)! I forgot! Michiko got you this!" He plunked a bag on your bed. "Open it, open it," he said like a little kid.

Hesitantly, you lifted the bag a little. It had a desginer seal on it. The bag was filled with (least favorite color) tissue paper.

You sighed and ripped the thin layers away to reveal a bundle of pink. Oh, no, you thought. You held it out in front of you. It was a dress- it looked like a kimono, only with short sleeves and wasn't so long and baggy. It was printed with large white flowers at the hem and had a white band around the middle. It came with white leggings.

"Oh. Um. Thanks." You stared at the dress and tried not to barf. "I don't usually wear dresses."

"I've noticed," your dad commented, staring at your black jeans and (F/C) T-shirt with disapproval. "Anyway, time for lunch."

For almost half a year, you ate in the kitchen. It felt strange to eat at the long table in the dining room. There were about twenty-two seats, with two on the ends, and a long white tablecloth was settled on top. Huge, long candles were set at the table, although no one ever used them. Your favorite part was the huge diamond chandelier hanging over the table.

The three of you gathered at one end of the table, with your dad sitting on the end, you sitting on his left, and his fiance on his right.

You picked at some teriyaki chicken. Across from you, Michiko was eating some miso soup daintily. Your dad was eating sushi with dangerously large amounts of wasabi. The entire time he chattered about his business.

It was an awkward meal. You were glad to leave the table after a long, painful hour. You were going to your room when suddenly the doorbell rang. "I'll get it, dear," your dad called. You wondered if he was referring to you or Michiko.

Suddenly, you heard a voice. "Um, hi. Is (Y/N) here?" You peered out the door and saw Hiro. He stared up at your dad, intimidated.

"Yes, she is," your dad said, clearing his throat. "May I ask who you are?"

"I'm Hiro," Hiro said quickly. "I need to talk to her really quick."

"Dad," you interrupted, coming down the stairs. "I got it."

His eyes still glued to Hiro, your father walked away.

"O-kay," Hiro said once you reached him. "That was awkward."

"O-kay," you mimicked. "Why are you here?" You leaned against the door frame. "This had better be important."

"It is," Hiro promised. "There's a bot fight going on a city away. It's huge!"

"And why do you expect me to go?" You did your special one-eye squint. "I don't have a bot, remember?"

"You can borrow one of mine," Hiro begged. "Come on, I just need a ride to the next city."

"You need a ride? Doesn't Tadashi have a motorcycle or something?" You grabbed the doorknob, ready the close the door. "And you must be really desperate if you're asking a girl."

"Who cares? I just need a ride to the city!" Hiro exploded, throwing his arms in the air.

"Sorry, Hiro, but my dad's home. I'm not going anywhere." You began to close the door.

Hiro's face fell as you shut the door.

* * *

Poor Hiro :(

Just kidding he's still a butt cx

~Clover