"Um, hello?" A voice called, echoing and distant. "Mr.? Are you awake? Hello?"

Hiro shot up, glancing around wildly. What had happened? Had he really fallen asleep on the job?

"Sorry," came the voice again. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Hiro rubbed his eyes and shook his head indignantly, his vision becoming a little less hazy.

"No, no," he croaked, and cleared his throat. "It was my-" but Hiro was cut off as he caught sight of who was standing in front of him.

It was the girl he'd been staring at earlier, and she was holding a cute polka dotted wallet out in front of her, staring expectantly at him. For the first time, he actually saw her face, and he instantly felt himself flush.

"I-uh, do you need something?" The girl smiled and moved over to the display of cakes and pastries.

"Yeah, can I have a scone?" She asked sweetly, pointing somewhere inside the glass case.

"Yeah, of course." Hiro scrambled to his feet and moved to open the display, picking through the donuts and brownies in the back to get to the blueberry scone she'd indicated to. He pulled it out with a pair of tongs, set it carefully on a small plate, and slid it back to the front. "Here you are."

The girl's nodded her thanks and pulled out tangled wad of money.

"How much?"

"Huh?" Hiro asked stupidly.

"How much for the scone?" she repeated, seeming more amused than anything.

"Oh- it's... it's on the house-" he blurted before he could stop himself. The girl's smile grew even wider and she lowered her wallet tentatively.

"...Are you sure?" she asked. "I have money."

Why had he said that?

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, pushing the scone towards her.

Stop! Don't do it! Aunt Cass will kill you!

At the last second, Hiro pulled back, and the girl's hand fell. She flashed him a confused look. "Under one condition," he said, forcing what he hoped looked like a sly smile. The girl just tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. "You tell me your name."

"Why?"

Hiro felt his heart leap into his throat.

Yeah, why?

"Um... do you want your scone or not?" he stuttered, hoping to god he wasn't turning too red. The girl shrugged and reached back out for the plate.

"(Y/N) (Y/LN)," she said, pulling it away from him. "Thanks for the scone."
With that, she walked off, back to her seat, pilled high with papers and disappeared once again behind a mountain of textbooks.

Aunt Cass came down twenty minutes later, ruffling her damp hair, a large smile on her face. She thanked Hiro again, and then, to his immense relief, he was free to go.

He stumbled up two flights of stairs, burst into his bedroom, and collapsed onto his bed without a second thought.

Hiro awoke to the smell of burning. He shifted in his bed and tried to go back to sleep, only to get a face-full of smoke. It made his eyes water and stung his throat, and he bolted out of his covers and fell to the floor, panting.

It took him a few seconds to realize what was going on, but once he caught sight of the curtains that hung above his bed, which had erupted into a plume of fire, he jumped into action.

He needed something to put it out with, was the thought he picked out of the jumble of chaos bouncing around his head.

Hiro ran to his door, then back again, frantically glancing around for something to smother the fire with.

"I heard a sound of distress." A voice chirped behind him. Hiro turned to see Baymax waddling towards him, something red dangling from his pudgy hand. "Are you hurt?" he asked Hiro once he'd reached him. Hiro looked up at the robot incredulously.

"N-no, but you have to help me find-"

But he was drowned out by a loud rushing sound, as Baymax lifted the thing he'd been carrying, aimed it (with much difficulty) at the fire, and fired a spray of solid mist out of the top. He was pushed back a few inches by the force of the blast, and let the red can drop to the floor with a loud clang a few seconds later.

Hiro stood, panting, staring wide-eyed at the shriveled, blackened curtains, now laying on his bed, which was covered in a layer of white.

"T-thanks," he managed, swallowing.
Hiro then spent the next hour tearing off his sheets, tossing burnt papers and pillow cases, and scrubbing the residue from the fire extinguisher off the floor. He bagged up the burnt curtains and tossed them in the trash (as he did this, he couldn't help giving a silent thanks that Aunt Cass had been downstairs the whole time, or she would have heard everything).

The smell of singed cloth still hung low in the air, and even though Hiro had forced every window open and sprayed the wall with disinfectant, the stench was almost unbearable. Deciding instead to retire to cafe, and maybe call his friends to try and figure out what had just happened, he snatched up his backpack (which had thankfully remained untouched by the fire), and marched down the stairs.

The warming sent of baking pastries and coffee was a breath of fresh air, and Hiro dumped his stuff down at the nearest table, and pulled out his phone to the call the first person. As he did so, he glanced around the shop, looking at all the customers who were now piling in (as late afternoon was one of the more busier times), and his eyes landed once again on the isolated corner of the room, where the same pile of books from earlier that morning sat, and behind them a head was barely visible.

She was still here?

Hiro shook his head as the line began to ring. That wasn't his problem right now. The only thing he should be worrying about, he told himself sternly, is how in the world his bedroom caught fire.