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Don’t worry, they’re not a virus blog. I had a small chat with them, and checked out the blog too. They’re safe, and super nice! 

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Author’s Note: I was listening to “Shooting Star” by Owl City when I wrote this. I didn’t actually mean to do it, but here we are. I’m a bit rusty on my writing, I haven’t done it in ages. Enjoy this, though. 

The glowing orange orbs from the street lights outside were Hiro’s only source of light in his dark room. He preferred it to be dark now, as though it represented how he felt inside. Tadashi’s death had hindered his production, and seemed to have caused Hiro’s world to stop completely. Saying he missed him didn’t even slightly come close to how he really felt. To be quite honest, Hiro didn’t think he could ever compose the right structure of words to even begin to express how he was feeling. It was probably impossible, he thought. 

The younger Hamada gave a defeated sigh, one of many he’d already given that day, and twisted round in his bed to face the window. Above the glow of the street lights, the stars flickered softly like little fireflies - their light never burning out, only becoming invisible when the sun appeared. For Hiro, Tadashi was like that. At night, much like the stars were, Tadashi was there. Hiro could feel the elder Hamada’s much larger, heavier arms wrapped around him. He was certain of it, though the chances of his brother actually being there was impossible. Hiro knew this, but his sleep deprived mind knew otherwise. 

At night, when Hiro’s eyelids were heavy and his muscles were growing limp, he could feel Tadashi’s presence. He would be pulled into the elder’s warm embrace, and he’d always smell of a mix of Wasabi’s antiseptic spray, Honey Lemon’s perfume and Gogo’s minty bubblegum. It was a pleasant smell for Hiro, because it felt real. It added to the illusion that perhaps Tadashi wasn’t actually gone. It was false reassurances, of course, but Hiro didn’t want to think that. 

”I’m not giving up on you,” Tadashi’s silky voice, wrapped in a soft whisper, would echo softly in Hiro’s mind, bringing a heartfelt smile to his lips for only a moment. The small, conscious part of Hiro didn’t care that this wasn’t real, because the rest of him was too lost in this dream that it didn’t matter if it was real or not. Tadashi was there, even if he wasn’t there during the day, he was still there.