Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     The reflection that stared back at him was full of doubt and question; the two very things he didn’t need right now. Where was the solitude that embraced him upon his father’s death, giving him the strength to push through his funeral? Where was the confidence that he maintained upon his ceremonial promotion to head of the family? It seemed all things in his life bowed before his younger brother.

     Hanzo Shimada stood in place, facing his bathroom mirror, while doing his best to come to terms with his task. Genji’s trial was the quickest and most efficient decision that the council ever made. And they were certain not to leave him any slack in the binds of their intent. The instruction was clear; bring Genji to heel, or eliminate him. Their original plan was to send a hired hand, and end the matter discreetly. But Hanzo, being the eldest, and sworn protector of his younger brother, beseeched them for one last try to convince Genji to purge himself of the errors that so frequently endangered their way of life.

     And now here he was, shaking in front of his jade sink, regretting that decision with each passing minute. A nervous hand reached for the sink nozzle, turning on the cold water and letting it run for the sound. The rushing cascade eased him slightly, but not nearly enough. He ran his hands under the water, clapping them anxiously against his face as he pulled down the excess flesh in his cheeks and closed his eyes.

     ‘You’re weak,’ he chastised himself. ‘You cannot afford weakness. You are the head of this family now, and he must heed your will.’ The self-criticism brought him back to task. He looked at his reflection once more, now the pillar of duty that he needed to be; purged of emotion and doubt, leaving only purpose in his wake. With a quick jerk of the wrist, he turned the nozzle off, stopping the flow of water with an audible halt. The room was still as he turned on the ball of his foot, marching toward the door. He scooped up his katana with his left hand, securing it at his side so that it could be drawn with his right. With renewed validity, he marched along the smooth wooden floors of their palace in Hanamura.

     In his youth he imagined that the palace walls were painted red as a sign of strength, and national pride. It was only now that he realized that they were never painted. Rather stained, with the transgressions of those that came before him, and maintained by those that would follow. The Shimada never liked to use the word Yakuza as a descriptor, but semantics were a thing that Hanzo never bothered to occupy himself with. Still, this was the way that they lived, and the comfort and security that came with the family name needed to be paid for. Often, at times, in blood.

     He just hoped it wouldn’t have to be his brother’s blood.

     The journey down the halls normally took a lengthy span of minutes in travel to Genji’s chambers in the south. The journey used to be a thing of annoyance, but today he was counting on it. He wanted every second that it took him to cover the distance between their resting areas. He needed them. But all too soon, his ears perked to the laughter of harlots, no doubt in preparation to be roused beneath the sheets of his brother’s bedding.

     Something changed in his brother’s spirit after their mother passed. Something changed in all of their spirits after his mother passed. But not even the promise of the soulmate, etched into the center of his inner wrist soothed the wound that she left on his brother’s heart. And so like the ronin, he wandered in search of her; often between the thighs of other women.

     He hated them, for they had robbed him of the time that he needed to use to convince himself to find another way. There he stood, outside of his brother’s room, and if he tallied any longer, he would be forced to endure a thing that no sibling ever wanted to endure. So with a heated exhale through his nostrils, he slid open the door to his brother’s chambers, and stared the two girls down with the weight of his position. They turned abruptly, one just about to mount his brother, while the other propped up his head, feeding him from a bowl of fresh cut watermelon.

     “Get out,” Hanzo growled, and the two girls wasted no time, gathering their things and running past him toward the exit. He didn’t bother to look at them as they fled half clothed. He only had eyes for his wayward brother, who let the back of his head fall against his futon in defeat and annoyance, looking anywhere other than at Hanzo.

     “This better be good,” Genji warned, as he sat up, shirtless, smelling of an unnatural husk and expensive sake. He hunched over with his posture, letting his forearms rest on his thighs, as he ran his hands down his face with stress and exhaustion.

     “You dishonor yourself, and this family,” Hanzo lectured, immediately countered by the rolling of his brother’s brown eyes.

     “And you dishonor this bedroom,” Genji quipped, throwing back the sheets and kipping-up to his feet. He crossed the floor toward his closet, trying to find clothing. Despite his attempts to appear tall and composed, Hanzo noticed the swaggering delay in his motion. He himself never deigned to drink without warranted ceremony, as it slowed the body and the mind. But his brother stood in mockery of his own usual grace, having consumed more than he could safely handle. The drunken stupor was all too evident now.

     “I have told you to stop bringing those girls to the palace time and time again,” Hanzo lectured as Genji threw his hands up into the air. “And to stop spending all of your money on frivolity!” Hanzo could feel his anger welling up inside. To make matters worse, Genji went to pour himself another cup of the sake that he kept on the table that ran the length of his chamber wall. Hanzo immediately snatched it out of his hand, slamming it back onto the table. “This is exactly what I am talking about! You are reckless. You have always been reckless, and you endanger our family with your antics.”

     “I already told you, I was only a few minutes late to the payload. That is not enough time for the ambush that met us there,” Genji drawled, sliding open one of the walls that led out of his room, and fleeing Hanzo’s wrath. The elder brother followed, noting that the last time Genji told him this story, it was ‘only a few seconds late to the payload.’

     “And yet they did. Something that you should have scanned the area for an hour before! You jeopardized the payload, your safety, the safety of our cousins in the branch family, and our relationship with the Matsuda family!” Hanzo’s voice roared down the halls that Genji now paced in drunken clumsiness, to get away from his brother’s lecture.

     “I don’t see what the big deal is. We received our payment,” Genji said with an eye roll, but Hanzo grabbed his arm, and flung him around with a single spin.

     “You…were…caught!” The venom in Hanzo’s voice was unfamiliar. Genji’s nose wrinkled in snarling indignation. “The very focus of your training; the very thing you were raised not to do! Now we face public exposure, scrutiny from the media, from the police, from the government, and from Overwatch! Do you have any idea the damages that we will have to pave due to your incompetence? Do you have any idea the costs that will come from the family to maintain order? The burden that this places on all of us!” Under the might of Hanzo’s yelling, Genji was silenced. Hanzo looked angry enough to hiss and spit, as Genji’s fists clenched tight enough to prompt veins. The escalation between the two of them seemed to change the world around them. What was once a still night, now morphed with the blowing of the wind, and a rustling of the tree leaves.

     "I told you I was sorry!” Genji began to find the might in his own voice now, as he made his way to the gardens, turning to face his brother at last.

     “Sorry isn’t good enough Genji. You have to be better! We are the heads of this family. The others look to us for example! And what do you think they see when they look to you? Because all I see is failure and disappointment!”

     “Stop it!” Genji barked loud enough to cause Hanzo to stagger for a moment. “Stop acting like you’re my father, and stop treating me like a child!”

     “Then do not act like one!” Hanzo’s roar matched the might of Genji’s, turning the fight back to his favor. “Were I your father I would have corrected this behavior from you long ago! Ours was a fool not to!”

     “Do not speak of father that way! You dishonor the man that he was in your wrath!”

     “He was an imbecile who spared his youngest the wrath that he so heaved upon his eldest! Do you not see, foolish Sparrow? The council sent me here to kill you!”

     It was only then that Genji’s eyes fell to the sword that Hanzo now gripped too tightly in his right hand. He stopped in his tracks, now face to face with the root and cause of his brother’s unnaturally righteous fury. But what was once a staggering comprehension, quickly faded into malice and spite. He wrinkled his nose again in that same hiss, and coiled back like a viper, prepared to strike. “And so what? You came to do it? Just like that?”

     Hanzo’s expression softened for a brief instant. He realized now that he’d crossed a line with Genji, that he would never make it back from. But he could not relent. He swallowed to reply, but Genji interrupted. “I don’t believe you. I do not believe the council sent you here to kill me. I believe you are using the power you now have as head of the family to remove me from your life!”

     “How dare you!” Hanzo spat a curse in Japanese but Genji pressed forward, circling Hanzo now, as he rifled off his accusations.

     “You have always resented me, even when we were children. You hated me then because I was unafraid to live my life the way that I choose. You resented me for the joy that I allow myself freely, while you shoulder burdens that only you can lift because you have invented them with your own mind! You are jealous of me, and that is not my fault. It never has been.”

     “Silence!” Hanzo hissed the word as a warning. Genji stopped in his tracks, keeping his eyes on his brother. The trust that they once shared could no longer be found in Genji’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if he liked what remained, but he did not have time to ponder. “You will throw yourself before the mercy of the council, during which you will tell them that you have recognized the error of your ways. You will take the next mission that we bestow upon you with gratitude, and you will execute it without flaw. Your training will double until you learn to attend your duties with the entirety of your occupation. And you are cut off from the family’s inheritance until you earn your claim!”

     “I will not,” Genji countered in defiance.

     “You will do as I command!” Hanzo drew his katana with a quick flourish, the glint of the metal catching the moonlight for an instant, before pointing it just past the back of Genji’s neck. Genji only flinched for a brief instant, but the sake slowed him down enough for Hanzo to see that his threat was taking effect. But just as soon as Hanzo thought his brother would yield, Genji crossed his arms and lifted his chin.

     “Do it,” Genji challenged. And there they stood, beneath the night sky. Hanzo’s arm began to falter from holding the katana in place, while Genji remained unmoved, and dangerously close to the sharpened edge of his blade. “Do it,” he repeated, moving closer, as he dropped his arms to the side. Hanzo stepped back to regain the distance, but Genji was walking forward. “Go ahead, brother. I know you want to. You have always wanted to. So do it. No one can stop you. I’m not going to stop you. You’re the head of the family now. You can do whatever you like,” Genji growled, with a sick and deadly undertone.

     “…Genji...!” Hanzo whispered the name out, as both a warning and a plea, keeping the sword drawn in position. The curve of the katana all but kissed the fabric of his brother’s top; the only thing protecting the skin of his collarbone from the sword. But Genji had come so close now that Hanzo felt the need to shift his gaze between his brother’s eyes.

     The two of them stood there in tension, neither of them moving so much as to breathe. Both of their faces were furious and proud, neither willing to submit to the other. The two dragons of the Shimada clan seemed to have reached the breaking point of their tolerance for one another. But at last the moment came, where Hanzo’s arm faltered. He withdrew his sword slowly, locking eyes until it was sheathed again.

     Genji looked him up and down, and spat as he turned to walk away. But the fury welled in Hanzo once more. “Genji,” he called, but his brother continued on. “Genji!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, but Genji threw a hand up in the air in mockery, as he continued his way toward the pavilion. Hanzo’s nostrils flared, and his eyes dilated as his rage boiled to an undisputed peak. His arm tightened once more, drawing the sword that he’d just lowered from his brother’s neck moments ago. The top of his arm surged, with a spiritual electricity, as the twin dragons that he’d earned in his labors answered the call of his summoning. They sprung to life from his tattoo, ripping themselves from the binding of his flesh, and following the beckons of his fury. Before he could even think of what he was doing, he was screaming!

     “THE DRAGON BECOMES ME!”

     Hanzo had become a blur of blue and white spiritual energy. He dashed across the grounds of the estate with a breath-taking speed, undetectable by the unassisted eye. Genji turned on his heel, eyes widened with horror and disbelief! His hand instinctively reached for the sword that he usually kept on his back, but he was caught unarmed and unawares! In an instant of desperation, he leapt adjacent to the trajectory of his brother’s onslaught, but he hadn’t leapt fast enough!

     With every swing of Hanzo’s katana, the dragons ripped the flesh from Genji’s bones. Though the cuts came in a blinding sequence, he could feel each of them tearing through his bones and muscles, with the ease of a knife through butter. It was over in an instant, and Hanzo crouched behind his brother at the completion of his dash. In one lunge, he had dealt his brother what felt like hundreds of fatal cuts, amplified with the energies of the dragon’s fury. Genji’s body fell to the ground with a ghastly thud.

     Hanzo stood as he always did after an execution, and flicked his sword so as to remove the excess blood, before sheathing it once more. He had calmed now that the fury from before had been actualized in assault. Then his ears perked to the gagging sound of his brother choking on the ground behind him, and his eyes widened in realization. He turned with his eyes fixed on Genji on the ground, drowning in a mouth-full of his own blood. It was only seconds before the horror overtook him.

     “Genji!” Hanzo screamed, in realization of what he’d just done. He slid to his knees to cradle his fatally wounded brother. The blood that poured from Genji’s wounds stained the ground and Hanzo’s hands and legs. Hanzo clasped Genji’s wrist, with the trademark A.Z. from his soulmate’s initials, panicking as his heart thumped in his ears. “Genji! Genji, open your eyes! Stay with me! Genji! Someone help us!”

     “Han….zo...!” Genji coughed, with sad eyes looking up to his brother in astonishment and agony.

     "I’m sorry! I’m sorry Genji, I’m sorry!” Hanzo was panicking. The guards and attendants came rushing from the halls, surrounding the two of them. Hanzo heard one of them calling for an ambulance as the tears welled hot in his eyes. He clutched his brother with the might of his grip, as the sob crawled forth from his throat.

     "...Genji...!"

Chapter Text

Flashback

     Ten year old Hanzo was overjoyed when his lesson was abruptly ended by their tutor. Sure, it came at the cost of pain to his younger brother, but mathematics was his least favorite subject. No matter how he tried he simply could not make sense of the craft. He’d made it through most of his lessons by stretching his memory to its furthest reach, remembering totals of common numbers rather than actually adding them together. But he was never truly cognizant of what he was doing. And just when his mind had reached its breaking point; it happened!

      Genji spontaneously shrieked and burst into tears, clutching the inside of his wrist. Their tutor Asubai-sensei, jumped in panic, immediately dropping his equipment to rush to his otouto’s aid. Hanzo looked over in honest curiosity, trying to see what Genji had done to himself this time. But the startled look on his tutor’s face quickly replaced that curiosity with an ounce of actual worry.

      “Come with me Genji. Hanzo-follow!” Asubai-sensei gave his orders while guiding the children out of their joint study.

      “What is it? What's happened? I didn’t do anything…” Hanzo asked, but Asubai-sensei marched on despite his prattling. Genji’s sobbing was the only other sound, as he furiously clutched his own wrist. Hanzo’s heart began to race as he realized where they were headed. Normally the children were only brought to their mother if they were being disobedient; a rare occasion swiftly corrected. “I didn’t do anything! I promise! Genji, tell him! Stop crying!”

       “But-it-huuuuuurttttttsss!” The seven year old whined between the hitching of his breath, while being pushed forward. As they approached their parent’s chambers, Asubai-sensei made eye contact with their mother, who quickly set aside her paperwork and rushed to the door. The two adults conversed out of ear-shot of Hanzo, but he saw from the widening of his mother’s eyes that whatever they were discussing was serious. She nodded quickly, and Asubai-sensei bowed as an announcement of his exit. The good news was that class was done for the day. The bad news was that he still had no idea what just happened, or how much trouble he would be blamed for.

        “Genji! Come here!” Hanzo listened to his mother as she held open her arms for his younger brother.

        “Mommyyyyyyyy!” Genji cried, running to his mother and leaping to her with all of his weight. She wrapped her arms around him, smothering him in her embrace.

        “I didn’t do anything!” Hanzo was terrified. He began to shake, nerves bubbling as the situation escalated.

         “No, Hanzo, he’s fine! Come here...” his mother cooed, holding out an arm for Hanzo. The ten year old moved to his mother’s side, as she slowly released Genji. “Genji, show me your wrist,” his mother instructed. With a sniffle, Genji let go of the now reddened flesh on his inner wrist. In the crook of his wrist, thin neatly written roman letters were tattooed into place. In contrast to his mathematical skills, Hanzo was already familiar with two roman languages. He spelled the letters out loud.

        “ A.Z.” he said, looking at the mark on Genji’s wrist.

        “That’s right! Well done,” his mother applauded, gently rubbing the letters on Genji’s wrist to soothe him.

        “But what does that stand for? And why does Genji get a tattoo? We’re not supposed to get our tattoos until we perform the labors!”

        “It’s not a tattoo Hanzo,” his mother laughed, while pulling back her own sleeve. “It’s a soulmate mark. Genji has a soulmate! See, look at mine!” The two boys shoved into one another, to focus on the mark on their mother’s wrist. Sure enough, his father's name was stamped onto her wrist in thick meticulous kanji: Shimada, Sojiro.

         “What? You have one too? What does that mean?” Hanzo looked up to his mother, whose face was something between shock and happiness.

         “It means...that Genji has someone who he’s destined to be with. I have your father’s name, and your father has mine. We were meant to be together, and so we married.”

         “ Genji’s married? ” Hanzo shrieked.

        “ Nooo! ” Genji screamed as hot tears spilled from his eyes again. He quickly covered his wrist, and Hanzo rolled his lips inward to hide the teasing smirk that crept into place.

       “No-no! Genji isn’t married...but he has someone out there that he’s supposed to be with in the end. He has…a happily ever after, like the stories that your father used to read to you.”  Both of the boys stopped and looked between the wrists in unison. A.Z. and Shimada, Sojiro; one in roman letters, the other in Japanese Kanji. “Whoever she is…it looks like she isn’t Japanese. Or at least…it isn't her native language...” his mother said, inspecting Genji's wrist as she turned it about. Hanzo looked to his own wrist, desperate to belong in the conversation.

       He didn’t see anything. There were no outlines, no traces, no hints of anything to come. Even as the redness in his brother’s wrist began to fade, the letters were neat and blatant to the passing eye. Hanzo’s distressed frown went unnoticed as his brother and mother stared at his wrist in wonder.

       “So…what do I do? How do I find her?” Genji asked his mother, looking up from his wrist to her at last. She smiled and laughed, pulling him closer.

       “Sweet Sparrow, your mark has come very early,” she cautioned, holding him tight again. “Most people don’t get their marks until their twenties! And even then, that only means that you have one. No one knows when we will meet our soulmates, or how! It just happens eventually.” She smiled as he resumed staring at his wrist in wonder. “Wait here. I’m going to tell your father,” she said, before turning to leave and closing the sliding door to her study behind her.

       “Hanzo, did you get one too?” Genji asked, but didn’t wait for his brother to respond. Instead, he turned Hanzo’s wrist over to inspect it. Hanzo made a face before yanking his wrist out of his brother’s hand.

       “Let go! Even if I did, it’s none of your business!” Hanzo chided, hiding his wrists behind his back. Genji made a face before smirking.

       “You didn’t get one! You didn’t get one! Na-na-na-na-naaaa-naa!” Genji sang his teases while waving his wrist in front of his brother’s face.

       “Shut-up! I don’t want one anyway!” Hanzo turned away from his brother, now folding his arms over his chest to keep his wrists from Genji’s eye-sight.

       “Yes you do! You are a liar! You’re jeeaaaalousss you’re jeeeaaalouussssss!”

       “I said shut-up!” Hanzo screamed before shoving his brother to the ground. Genji cried out with a yelp, just as the door to their mother’s study was pulled open by their father.

       “ Hanzo! ” His father’s mighty roar made his back straighten with fear. Even as Genji was about to start his all too audible cry, his eyes instantly dried, standing up next to his brother. “Stop hurting your brother.”

       “But he was-!” Hanzo began, but Sojiro cut him off.

       “I don’t care what he was doing. You do not shove him! Now apologize to Genji!” Hanzo made a face, but his father’s glare seemed to turn his heels toward his brother before he could even think to defy him.

       “I’m…sorry…” Hanzo said, before turning away again. And just as he had, his father’s expression softened once more. Sojiro crossed the floor and knelt before his younger son, taking his wrist into his palm and turning it over.

       “Hmm… A.Z. hunh?” Sojiro asked with a smile, and Genji only nodded. “Well…it looks like we’re going to have a celebration!” He picked Genji up with a tickle, throwing his laughing son over his shoulder as he giggled and squirmed. He carried Genji out of the door, laughing along with him as Hanzo looked on. But his eyes caught his mother’s outstretched hand and he took it, following after them.

********************************************************

       The family was called together that night for a great dinner, in discussion of what they would do for Genji’s party. Hanzo listened as the adults pooled together ideas, and watched as Genji’s eyes lit up like fireworks to the sounds of green dragons and hanging golden lanterns. His older cousin brought up the idea of searching the internet to find the mysterious A.Z. as many people posted in forums to try to find like-timed soulmates. But his grandmother outright dismissed the idea. She believed the two should meet in their own time, and that now was the moment to celebrate Genji.

      Hanzo listened and twirled his chopsticks in his food, as they shared stories around the table of when they each got their marks, and how they met one another. But his mind drifted to his own wrist, all but throbbing at how diligently he tried to will his own soulmate mark to appear. But his efforts were in vain. When his ears were filled with more stories than he could bear, he pushed back his chair and stood to ask “May I be excused?”

      The room stopped for a moment, all eyes upon the young heir, before his mother saved him. “Oh Hanzo, are you feeling well? Come here....” Hanzo walked over despite his response.

      “I feel fine. I’m just full and sleepy.” She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and cupped his chubby cheeks, before turning to Sojiro who only nodded.

      “You are excused,” he said, and motioned for Hanzo to bow and remember his manners. Hanzo picked up on the cue, turning to bow as an apology for his sudden departure, and saying thank you for the meal. He walked the route to his bedroom, but waited until he was just out of sight and ear-shot before sneaking off into the palace gardens.

       He grabbed a pair of the geta that were stashed beneath the wooden deck, and slid them on so that he could move across the garden floor. He made his way to the edge of the koi pond, before squatting down and dipping both of his wrists in the water, frightening the fish that swam nearby. He pulled them back out before rubbing them together quickly, as if he were trying to start a fire.

       “Come on…come on...” he groaned as his wrists began to chafe, but he saw that his efforts were in vain as he pulled them apart. The redness was there, but there had been no mark; Japanese or Roman. He peered over his shoulder before grabbing one of the rocks nearby, and scraping it along the stone pond's edge to sharpen its point. When he was satisfied, he peeked once more, before slowly bringing the sharpened rock back up to his newly provoked veins. Just as he pressed the tip to his wrist, he heard a voice from over his shoulder.

       “That’s not going to work little dragon,” Hanzo jumped, dropping the rock into the koi pond and turning around in a panic. He saw his grandmother a few feet away, slowly making her way across the garden. She smiled even though she’d just caught him on the verge of doing something that no doubt would have ended horribly. Hanzo bowed before her, ridden with guilt.

       “ Obaa-san …”

       “Trust me. I tried it too,” she chuckled with a breath that indicated the declining state of her health. Hanzo ignored it, still shifting guiltily in front of her. “I was so mad when my sister got her mark before me. I was the older sibling! Shouldn’t I have had my happy ending? Where was my soulmate?” She smiled, knowing that she had his full attention. “It’s not fair.”

        Hanzo let his head fall. He felt silly now, having teased his brother earlier for being ‘married,’ and here he was on the verge of slicing himself open for the promise of a soulmate. But he lifted his head as she continued on. “And would you believe it? I didn’t get mine. Not until I was thirty, and all of my friends and my sister had already been married! I thought that I was going to die alone and unhappy. But my mother told me something, little dragon. And now I’m going to tell you.”

        “What is it?” Hanzo asked his question as she closed the distance between them and motioned with her hand at the koi pond before them.

        “Do you see those koi, Hanzo?”

        “Yes,” he answered, looking up to her as if she had lost what remained of her mind. “They’re…right there.”

        “Exactly. They're right there . As big as this garden is…as big as this house is….those fish will only know the walls that surround them. They will swim with the same fish, eat from the same growth, live out their entire lives, and die; all within this same pool. Their life was chosen for them the moment that they came here.” Hanzo looked from her back to the fish that swam in the reflection of the moonlight. “They will never know the taste of other waters, or the flavors of seaweed from the grotto. They will never see just how large the world can be, or how beautiful anywhere else is, because they do not have a choice.”

        Hanzo frowned, linking his fingers together. “That…doesn’t sound very fun.”

        “It does not,” his grandmother chuckled. “Sure, it is comforting. Sure, they will live long, and grow strong. But if you ask me…I would rather choose. Wouldn’t you?” As she asked her question, Hanzo nodded vigorously. She held her hand out, and he took it, looking up to her as she turned his wrist over.

        “Hanzo-shi, your mark may not be here yet. Your mark may never come,” she cautioned, and he flinched nervously, but still kept his eyes on her. “But that does not mean that you are not loved little dragon. Or that you will grow old, and unhappy. All it means…is that you may live your life however you see fit. You are free to choose.” Hanzo’s mouth dropped slightly open before looking at his wrist, and smiling back up at her. She nodded her head before turning to leave.

         The blank space on the inner crook of his wrist held his gaze for a moment longer, before he sat down at the edge of the pond, pondering the koi that swam about as the evening sky glowed above him.

Chapter Text

      Hanzo pulled his eyes open with all of his strength. He ignored the sharp twinge of pain that chimed from his rib-cage as he pushed himself up from the crook of his futon. His body hadn’t quite healed yet from his last mission, and the thing that it craved most, was rest and relaxation. But on this day, it would simply have to suffer. Twelve years passed behind him, in a blur of flittering moments often overshadowed by despair and regret. Twelve years, since he had seen his then twenty-three year old fool of a brother; since he’d sent him to a premature grave over a family squabble. Twelve years since he bore the name Shimada with any resemblance of pride.

     The shell of the former head of house now stretched with a physical irritation, as he slowly rose to his feet, his motion hitching at all of the spots that were bruised and damaged. But in time he stood in full form, and began to shake himself of the fatigue that lingered in his muscles. He implored the full body stretches that he’d learned in his youth’s training as a shinobi. From the tips of his toes to the top of his neck, he walked his body through a forced rejuvenation, before stepping off toward his bathroom.

     Of the apartments that he’d migrated between, this had been Hanzo’s least favorite. The shower was cramped even for him. The toilet flushed too loudly, and often ran for longer than necessary upon recovery. And despite the heat of the outside weather, there was a leak in his refrigerator that seemed to turn the atmosphere into one of a butcher’s meat locker.

     But he had been careless before, and it came at the cost of his personal freedom. The night that he attacked Genji had been the start. In his regret, he rushed his brother to the nearest hospital. But the council learned of his treachery; his weakness. They sent assassins to finish the job that Hanzo began, forcing him to take up arms against them and protect Genji in his time of recovery. In his fury, he slew all that approached and returned to the clan, disavowing them and all that they stood for. He hadn’t had a safe night since.

     It seemed that every way that he turned, there was an assassin poised to claim the generous bounty upon his head, as a traitor to the clan. Now cut off from his funds, Hanzo kept himself afloat with mercenary work, both mentally and economically. He’d thought himself secure in his complex in Hanamura, but his first landlord required digital payments which were swiftly tracked by the clan’s forces, and he was attacked. From there he moved again and again. Each time, a careless mistake; each time discovered by the clan.

     And so for now, he remained in a rundown apartment on the edge of Tokyo, washing his hair with the same water as the working class. He never took lengthy showers, or at least, not in his opinion. But he was certain not to remain long under the free flowing pollution that fell along his shoulders, lest the temperature change and he find himself frozen in place. He turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and drying himself off with his nearby towel, before moving to brush his teeth. As he spat, he watched the blood fall from his lips, no doubt liberated from an injury left untreated. He sucked on his teeth to cleanse them further, before moving back to his room.

     Despite his re-awakened soreness, he managed to dress himself in casual clothing, shrugging on a clean shirt and sweater before stepping into a fresh pair of pants. He went to the dresser, pulling it open and grabbing the money that he’d earned from yesterday’s accomplishment. Fortunately his clients had no issues paying him in cash; in fact they preferred it. A withdrawal stopped there, and there were no ties or paper trails to follow after that. Everything else however, now operated on credit. And there was nowhere that credit was accepted, where the Shimada could not follow.

     Next, he moved to the kitchen, grabbing a pre-washed apple from the bowl that he kept on his counter. He wasted no time, making his way for the door and out of his apartment complex, having saved all of his errands for the day. First, he would have to make his way to the local market, to both restock his groceries, and convert his cash into a digital payment at the customer service counter. He also needed to pick up a few things to lay at the site of his brother’s burial. In particular, he needed the shoukou traditionally and originally burned at the funeral that he was unable to attend. And one last signature item; the feather of a sparrow.

     He hadn’t encountered many problems in his day to day life in the open. He learned in his youth, that he was actually safer in Japan than he was outside of the country. While Genji grew with the softer more feminine features of his mother, Hanzo’s face was an all but defiantly masculine recreation of his father’s. The distinctly Asian features where easily recognized in public, and on security cameras. Especially in comparison to those of other ethnicities. If he wasn’t careful, he was certain to be intercepted.

     But here in Japan, he blended in. He compared it to the stripes of zebra, and how impossible it would be to find one particular coat in a sea of its own kind. Out here he could walk in the open, and as long as he wasn’t screaming at that the top of his lungs that he was Hanzo Shimada; ex heir to the Shimada Empire and sworn enemy of the Yakuza, he could travel from place to place with little fear. It was a prison still, but he preferred the security of a zoo animal, over being an endangered species on the run.

     His apartment was also conveniently near the train station. It took some time for him to get used to the noise at first, with his previous places of residence being so far removed from the common residents. But in time, he learned to go back to sleep as the train whipped by, and soon he stopped waking up altogether. He bought his ticket at the kiosk before making his way to the loading dock and eventually boarding the train, preferring to stand and hold on to one of the hand grips.

     His eyes drifted to the advertisements around him. Mostly movies and video games. He noticed and advertisement for the movie Hero of My Storm , starring the latest K-pop queen, Hana Song. He pondered the movie for a moment, wondering if Genji would have wanted to see it. He’d favored action movies with beautiful women in his youth. The thought occupied his mind, until his stop was announced and he was free to exit the train.

     The trek to the market had been forgivably short and business-like. He ate the same things over and over again; fruits, vegetables, and fish. He knew precisely what quantities, and what spices he needed, as his diet never varied. His grocery store route had been narrowed down to three long right turns, before checkout. He was done shopping in a matter of fifteen minutes.

     But what he couldn’t escape was the tantalizing line to the customer service counter. He stood in silence, shifting in place to transfer his weight off of his sore muscles, as the line inched forward. In times like these, he always wished that he remembered to bring music to listen to. But the truth of the matter, was that Hanzo never knew what he wanted to listen to. Nothing sounded right anymore. Nothing ever caught his ear.

     One by one, the people ahead of him finished their tasks, quickly moving out of the way so that the next person could come forward, until finally it was Hanzo’s turn. He quickly pressed a pre-calculated wad of cash to the counter, instructing the young clerk at the desk that he needed this payment to be converted digitally, and sent to his landlord. He provided the routing and account number that it needed to be sent to, and paid the extra fee for expedition, before he was handed a receipt. He shoved it in his pocket, and made his way for the door.

     He needed to return home to stash his groceries, so they wouldn’t spoil in the time it would take him to not only find a Sparrow, but strike it down from the sky and pluck one of its feathers. He quickly made his way back to the train, still standing while carrying the weight of his groceries, as he made the journey back home. Upon his arrival, he wasted no time, washing his hands and vegetables at the sink, before chopping them into thin meticulous slices.

     He poured the shredded greenery into the clean mason jars that he kept in his cabinet, before snatching a piece of tape from his roller, and sticking it across the front. Then with the magnetic marker on the refrigerator, he wrote tomorrow’s date on it, so he knew when to eat his food. He proceeded to do this with the remainder of the vegetables, before separating the uncooked meat into baggies, and doing the same thing. Then at last, when everything was put away, he went back into the refrigerator, and took out the jar that he set aside a week ago for today, along with a container of pre-cooked meat that he reheated in his microwave.

     He stood there at the counter as he ate, quickly shoveling the food down his throat, and washing what few dishes it took him to complete this preparation, before putting them away, and retreating back to his room. For now at least, he needed to take his time. The train ride to Hanamura would be quick, but Hanzo was journeying into the Dragon’s nest, and so he needed to be prepared to face the consequences.

     He inspected his quiver, counting the arrows that he had, while doing his best to predict how many he would need. He’d managed to break into the Shimada palace every year since his brother’s death. And often times, he did so with relatively little fuss. Only in the last few years did he ever truly see much opposition. His plan had always been to avoid confrontation, instead relying on the intimate knowledge from his youth of the palace layout. He’d learned from his brother, all of the ins and outs of its foundation, and had to use this knowledge in the past to stop Genji from sneaking out and embarrassing the family further. Now he used them to suppress his own shame.

     The hard part was the anticipation. He used electric arrows for the Omnic guards that the Shimada implored at the burial ground. He never felt the need to spare them, the way that he did humans. An omnic could be rebuilt and destroyed time and time again, and never know the difference. But for humans, he needed blunted arrows. They were heavier at the tip and dull upon impact. But with the draw weight of his bow, the concussive force would do enough damage to keep the opposition down for the time that he needed. He always tried his best not to kill them. But even so, he was certain to pack a few lethal arrows, just in case.

     He went to his room, to grab his ceremonial gi, and hakama, and a few other things that he would use to change and disguise himself. A worrier through and through, Hanzo triple checked everything that he packed, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to turn around in case he forgot something, and remembering that he still needed time to find the feather. When he finally managed to assure himself that everything was where it needed to be, he set out again for the train, this time buying connecting tickets for his trek to Hanamura.

     He listened as the carts rushed along the metallic runway of the train, remembering the layout of the palace, and the guard formation from his youth. It hadn’t changed much, in the last few times that he’d been there. But the guards were sure to increase in number, seeing as he was discovered last year. He pictured the different ways that he could enter the palace, deciding this time to approach from the west, and make his way north. Even at age thirty-seven, he could still scale the wall to his brother’s chambers with little opposition.

     He thought of other pathways, and the eventual obstacles he would have to overcome, but every plan seemed to come back to the first, as the safest option. Bored of his own strategy, he closed his eyes and decided to simply relax in meditation. His body would not be at peak performance today, so his mind needed to pick up the slack. He sat in personal silence for the duration of the train ride, until his stop at Fukushima was announced. From there, the journey to Hanamura would have to continue on foot, and in the shadows.

     He moved along them deftly, the same twists and turns learned through years of practice. Nothing around him had changed, as Fukushima prided itself on its natural environment, and preservation of traditional Japan. The fast life of Tokyo seemed to evaporate upon the crossing, as he took in the fresh air, enriched with the green that surrounded him. His trek carried him through the trees that covered the mountain side, shielding him from the light and the vision of those who would seek him out.

     He scanned the area with trained eyes, sharpened by the diligence that came with wielding a bow against those with technical assistance. He favored the katana more than any other weapon, but after what he’d done, he vowed to never touch another again. Instead, he trained until his bow had become an extension of his will, and with that training assumed his role as an archer. There were several species of bird about, but he had yet to come across a Sparrow. But as his journey brought him to an open road, he saw a small bird diving over head into the thicket of trees across the pavement. He began to run, to keep a fixed eye on the bird.

     His feet rustled along the fallen leaves scattered among the ground with the rhythmic thump of his pace, until he saw the bird slow its flight. Taking his chance, he reached behind his back, snatching an arrow out of his quiver, quickly nocking it to his bow string and drawing it. But as he set himself up for the kill, he paused, suddenly stricken with grief. He lingered, still keeping his shot trained on the target, but at last he relented, lowering his shot and restoring his bow.

     In the years before, he had always remembered to purchase the feathers online so that he wouldn’t have to do this. The thought of killing a Sparrow was too on the nose, giving rise to the ghosts of his past. Instead he swallowed before running to the side of the tree, and scaling it to reach the nest. As he figured, the sparrow had brought feathers to its mate. He snatched one - much to the bird’s dismay - before climbing back down.

     He examined the feather for a moment. At its base where the stem began, it was a light shade of unblemished beige. Yet as the feather stretched in its growth it began to bruise and darken, up until the very tip of it at its blackest. Hanzo wondered if that was what happened to Genji. Hanzo wondered if that was what happened to himself.

     He stashed the feather into the bag containing the other burial rights, and said a solemn thank you to the Sparrow, before continuing his journey to the palace where both of their lives began and ended.

Chapter Text

      The line at the airport wouldn’t have bothered him in any other situation, but the humidity managed to ravage everyone before they made it through the security check, so the room smelled of sweat and body odor. The stench of which appealed only to the summer insects, intent on making a meal of their warm and suffering human prey. While Hanzo was uneasy about the flight itself, he certainly would not miss the summer in Japan.

       He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was that made him so uneasy about airplanes. Heights never bothered him; not even as a child. He and Genji were climbing trees together from the moment they discovered that they could. Trees turned into hills, and then hills turned into mountains. He could stand on one leg atop the peak of Mt. Fuji, and the only goosebumps he would experience would be from the cold.

       But here he stood, stomach churning as the line inched forward. He regretted not spending the extra money for a first class ticket, instead deciding to fly coach, as befitting of someone of his lifestyle, so as not to arouse suspicion. The risk of being recognized was far too great, and if something were to happen on a plane, he had no means of escaping. Once more the line inched forward, and he turned to look away, thinking of something to distract himself. His scrambled thoughts brought him to the letter left at his apartment, upon his return from his brother’s burial ground.

       The handwriting on the letter hand been unmistakable. Genji’s stroke order never aligned with what their sensei’s tried to instill upon him, so his Kanji were always a little off from the norm. He pictured the assassin's face that seemed to glow beneath the removed mask. But how could this be? He’d unleashed both dragons on his unarmed brother, and despite his efforts to see him to the hospital, Genji was officially announced dead halfway through the night. Though in truth, he recalled that he never saw the body, or even the burial urn until the year after, upon the anniversary of his brother’s murder. So despite the improbability, he couldn’t rule out the possibility that his attacker from the week before had been none other than his brother. There was no exception to the rule. Only a Shimada can control the dragons.

       The thoughts that drifted in his mind carried him to the front of the line with an oblivious ease. He’d only snapped out of his trance, when he was asked by the guard to empty his pockets and walk through the metal detector that arched over the runway. His carrion was searched, but Hanzo always traveled light, carrying nothing but a book to pass the time, two water bottles, and cleansing materials to freshen up; something he thoroughly intended to do upon boarding the air-conditioned plane. His bow and quiver were stashed away with his luggage, cleverly hidden in a double lined brief-case that he’d brought with him, from his time as a Shimada assassin.

       Hanzo made his way through the checkpoint with little more than a curt nod, before finding a shaded bench away from the crowd and sitting to wait for his plane’s arrival. He hadn’t left much time before departure, but he figured that best. Otherwise, he would have too long to change his mind and leave. Better still, this left him little time to be intercepted by a would-be enemy, out to collect the reward on his head, and cash-in with the Shimada clan.

     The monitors above flickered with the changing of time, signaling that his plane approached the loading bay, as the guiding voices from the intercom instructed him to make his way toward the loading gate. He followed their instructions, gathering together at the proper dock, along with the other riders to be seated with him. It was a blended mixture of tourists returning home, and Japanese natives going to Spain, no doubt to escape the summer wrath. From what he could spot, no one looked familiar enough, or uneasy enough, to make an attempt on his life. Even still, he didn’t loosen the tension in his shoulders until after he’d climbed the retractable stairs to the stream-lined air vehicle, and found a window seat toward the back.

        He waited, looking out the window, and clutching his own arms as his toes curled in his shoes. His fear of flying had often been a source of embarrassment, but he was determined to endure it in silence. As the minutes clicked by, he noticed that his flight was not full, as multiple seats were left open, including his own. When the flight attendant came by to ask him to turn off his digital device and fasten his safety belt, he did so without a second thought, instead reaching into his pocket for the copy of the folded up letter, just as the pilot announced that they were preparing for take-off.

        He’d read the contents over and over again, by now able to recall the text from memory. But even still, it remained a fixture of his study since he found it. It seemed that his brother had grown in their time apart, as his letter explained that while at first he was consumed with rage and thoughts of betrayal, he had been watching Hanzo from afar for some time, and that he now only felt sorrow. That night somehow managed to damage them both, although only one of the brothers were struck down.

       Hanzo’s eyes glazed over the page, quadruple checking that he had performed all that Genji asked upon his departure, to signify his intent to join him and his military strike team. He was not permitted to disclose the whereabouts of their location in any way, so everything needed to be done covertly. The flight would take him from Tokyo Japan, to Barcelona Spain, over the duration of thirteen and a half hours, and that upon his landing he would be escorted to a car.

       Just as he was sure that he had done all that was asked, the plane lurched forward, and Hanzo felt himself regretting every decision he’d ever made that led him to this point! He quickly shoved the letter back into his pocket, and clutched on to the arm rests, closing his eyes and thinking peaceful thoughts to distract himself from the rumbling machinery. In time, the plane approached a level altitude, and he received notice that he was free to unbuckle his seatbelt. He was the first to do so, immediately grabbing his carry-on and making his way toward the bathroom.

       He splashed the cold water onto his face first, to cleanse the sweat that pooled from a combination of the humidity from earlier, and his own fear. Next, he took a damp cloth to his problem areas, making himself as sanitary as possible. When he was as clean as he could be he departed, making his way back to his seat and grabbing the book from his carry-on. He took one last look at Genji’s letter, before he began reading with a newfound hope. Perhaps in Overwatch, he could regain his honor and work toward redemption from his past sins.

 ***********************

        To his misfortune, he already made his way through the book, before the plane announced that they needed to brace themselves for landing. He cursed himself for not bringing another to keep his mind occupied. Everyone else aboard had fallen asleep a few hours ago; a luxury he would never be able to afford. He bit his cheeks and closed his eyes tight as the intercom announced that they would experience slight turbulence upon their landing. Hanzo decided to have words with the flight attendant afterward, for the misuse of the word ‘slight.’

      The plane shook in a manner that made Hanzo think that it could snap in half at any moment. His leg shook in place as he opened his eyes to quickly scan for the nearest emergency exit, and parachute in case he needed to dive, and then wondered if he even needed one. It wasn’t death that Hanzo feared, but surviving; pitiful and injured beyond repair, left only a shell of his former self to rot with the thoughts of his past slowly nibbling upon him. At least with mercenary work, he was able to rid the world of men like himself, and his family. But having to endure life without distraction was a cross too heavy to bear.

       His eyes blinked open again in betrayal, but as he looked about he saw a little girl, shaking slightly in her seat while looking back at him. She had short dark hair, cut into a small bob that stopped at her neck, with a dress for the Japanese summer; light and airy for comfort. She stared with big open brown eyes, before smiling and waving at him without a trace of fear. “It’s gonna be okay, mister,” she announced, before being shushed by her apologetic mother. Hanzo only nodded to them both in response, before closing his eyes again.

     But just as the girl spoke, the plane ceased its turbulence in descent, smoothly sliding into the landing port in Barcelona. Hanzo only released his grip on the arm rests when the plane had come to a complete halt, and the stewardess announced that it was safe to depart from the plane. He’d held on to them so tight, that there were indents in the faux-leather from where his fingers were. He peeled himself from his seat, and swung his bag over his shoulders as he stood and waited in line for his chance to depart. His eyes found the young girl’s again, who smiled and waved goodbye as she was pulled along by her mother. Hanzo’s arm twitched with the thought of waving back. He kept it down.

      He climbed down the stairs as swiftly as he could, without betraying any sign of his athleticism. The air was warm still, but a dry warmth, as opposed to the savage humidity in Japan. He crossed the pavement into the airport, and went to collect his luggage from the conveyor belt. Everything that he brought with him managed to survive the trip as well, as he threw an oversized gym-bag over one shoulder, while his left hand pulled along his rolling rectangular case. He made his way over to the exit to go and find his ride.

        Once he was out of his door, he reached back into his jacket pocket to turn on his phone. He hadn’t expected any messages, so he wasn’t surprised when it appeared completely clear. Instead, he turned his head up, looking amongst the white boards carried by drivers of various stature. His eyes finally locked on to the kanji for the alias that he used, “Hattori Hanzou,” being held up by a white woman with shoulder length blonde hair. She searched about, no doubt lost in the sea of Asians that poured from the airport doors. But as he approached her, her entire stance shifted, and he could tell that she realized who he was.

      He noted the shift though, and her stance in general. Whoever she was, she was stronger than her white cardigan and skirt let on. She seemed slight to the untrained eye, but there was muscle definition and training in her movement, combined with a sort of rigidity in her frame unique to those who had seen combat, in Hanzo’s experience. But as her body showed signs of a warrior, her expression was one of just the opposite.She had big dark blue eyes, soft in their gaze as her head tilted to the side with her smile. She looked tired, but at the same time earnest as her lips parted. “Pardon me.  You must be...Hattori?” Hanzo nodded to her knowingly raised eyebrow, letting on that she knew that it was only an alias. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Oh, goodness, you’re carrying quite a lot of weight. Here, let me help you,” she said, reaching out for his briefcase. Hanzo stepped back, in response.

       “I will manage. Where is he?”

       “Genji? He was called away. I came in his place. I’m Angela Ziegler,” she announced, holding her hand out for a handshake. Hanzo glanced at it before moving past her, toward the now open trunk. He set in his luggage bag first, before hoisting the briefcase into the car, closing the trunk, and walking around to the driver’s side back seat. The blonde woman opened the door on the passenger side, and climbed in the back with him, to his annoyance. “Or...maybe he mentioned me as…Mercy….?”

        “He said nothing of you, or anyone else,” was Hanzo’s curt response.

        “Oh,” Mercy replied, apparently taken aback. Hanzo saw from the corner of his eyes that she’d fastened the buttons to her wrist sleeves, before the driver turned back to face them.

        “Dr. Ziegler?”

        “Yes? Oh, my apologies. Go ahead,” she instructed, and the car pulled away from the airport. Hanzo thought the drive would remain in silence after that, but he had been mistaken. “How was your flight?”

         “Agreeable,” he lied.

         “Truly? Genji thought you might be in a bit of a mood. He said you’ve never liked airplanes. I admit I expected you to be a bit more shaken, from the things that he said,” she giggled. Hanzo stopped for the moment, wondering what all Genji had expressed about him to these people.

         “I’m fine.” The lies barked defensively from his mouth, as he folded his arms across his chest. He thought he saw the woman making a face in the reflection of the window, but he convinced himself that he was mistaken. His eyes began to droop and his head hung low for the moment, until he heard her voice again a few minutes later.

       “The jet lag can be a little unforgiving. It’s perfectly fine if you would like to go to sleep. We have a bit of a journey ahead of us anyway,” Mercy stated. Hanzo knew that he hated this woman, both for pointing out his weakness, and for now denying him the ability to sleep. He would stay awake now just to prove a point. And it didn’t help that the very sound of her voice was so soothing.

       “Hn,” he grunted, as he stared pointedly out the window, looking at the buildings and stretches of land that surrounded them. He’d been to Spain before, on more than one occasion, and even to the same airport. But in truth, he didn’t recognize the route that they were going. He chocked it up to his fatigue, and gave up trying to pinpoint his location, knowing that he could kill them both and turn the car around should the need present itself.

       “Tekharta Mondatta?” Hanzo turned away from the window to look at her at last, with an eyebrow raised in confusion and irritation. She nodded toward the cover of the book that hung from his open carry-on, her question in reference to its author; the famous monk Omnic. “I’ve read The Iris several times, actually! His work can truly be eye opening!”

     “I brought it with me on a whim to pass the time,” Hanzo stated, before turning back to the window.

     “Tell me, what did you think of his section on the soul? I thought it was so fascinating, how the laws that govern who is treated with what respect are tied in with archaic human ideals of the purity of one’s soul! I mean, it all makes sense, right? Why we all look upon the Omnics with such disdain? But then he raises that excellent point in chapter three, about the animals that we share the earth with, and asks us to think if they are any less deserving of life and comfort. Sorry, I’m rambling,” She cut herself off, and Hanzo agreed.

       “I just-” she continued, and Hanzo made a face. “I’m so taken with his philosophies. Honestly, this world needed Mondatta. It still does.”              

       “The book was listed as recommended reading at the store that I bought it from, so I purchased it without thought. While it served its purpose in occupying my mind during the flight, I found its contents patronizing and shallow, much like this conversation. Only a fool humors opinions on the soul, from a machine-made machine,” Hanzo replied with a weary drooping of his eyes. The pause that came after was uncomfortable, but then he heard a shuffling that came from a bag, and turned to look out of the corner of his eye.

        “...I was wrong earlier. My mistake,” Mercy said, with an indignant huff, as she pulled apart a pair of white cordless ear-buds, clipping each to a separate ear. “You are exactly, as Genji described you.” She crossed her legs, and adjusted the volume on her headphones loud enough that Hanzo could make out parts of the song she was listening to.

     Hanzo glanced over for a moment, feeling the words of an apology forming in the upper crook of his mouth. But Mercy had turned away toward the window, no longer interested in his company. He decided against provoking her further, relishing in the fact that he could now ride in silence, despite the manner in which he obtained this serenity. The irritation that nagged at the corner of his mind from the lack of sleep however, did not dull with her silence. It instead pulled at his skull, like a ponytail tied too tightly; reminding him of his exhaustion, but at the same time preventing him from sleeping.

    “Driver, how long until we reach the destination?” The driver looked to Hanzo in the rear-view mirror briefly, at the sound of the question.

    “About an hour and forty-five minutes, sir.” Hanzo wrinkled his nose in dissatisfaction. The fatigue that bore down upon him seemed to gain weight with the newly obtained knowledge. Still, he knew that he would be at his destination soon, and eventually around his brother’s promise of safe company.

    What he didn’t know, was that the car ride was only half of the journey. After the duration of the ride, the car stopped in the middle of the open road surrounded by dry green grass. Hanzo instinctively tensed in muscle, thinking of how best to grab his bow and get himself out of whatever his so-called brother just dragged him into. He jumped, as Mercy pushed open her door, and closed it behind her with an abrupt sharpness. Hanzo looked out of the window toward her, only to see that her hair and collar were blowing with a wind too strong to be safe. But as the driver opened his own door, he heard the cause of the gust.

    “Would you like me to help with your luggage, sir?” The driver asked, but Hanzo was deafened by the sound of his comfort dying, at the sight of the large hover shuttle that slowly landed next to them. It was white, with grey detail for contrast, and hints of blue and gold. Shaped like an orca without the dorsal fin, the ship swayed back and forth in place, until it found equilibrium in its descent toward the ground. The front gate to the shuttle lowered onto the grass off of the road, and Mercy walked forward, stepping onto it and out of sight without a word. “Sir?”

      “Hm?” Hanzo turned to see the driver holding his luggage. He quickly took his rectangular case, before throwing his luggage over his shoulder. The driver gave him a nod, before walking around him to close his door, and then getting back into the car. Hanzo watched for a moment as the car drove away, before swallowing and looking back to the air shuttle. He walked across the grass along the sides of the road, before his feet clicked against the reinforced window of the shuttle gate, and he ascended the loading ramp.

      Mercy was already buckled into her own seat, with belts across her waist and chest. Hanzo was sure she could see the distress that he was in at the thought of another flight. But if she could, it did nothing to soothe her mood. She remained transfixed on her nails for the moment, still ignoring him with all of her will. Hanzo quickly found a seat and buckled in, before his eyes flicked back to Mercy, who was now behind a hologram screen. With a few strokes of her fingers, the shuttle shook from side to side until it reached equilibrium in the air, steadily flying above the ground.

    Hanzo resumed his death grip on the arm rests of his chair as he had on the plane earlier. Only this time the metal threatened to break beneath his grip. Unlike the small circular window in the ship, Hanzo could clearly see the ground from further and further away behind the large glass pane that served as his ramp mere moments ago. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying his hardest to keep himself from trembling.

     His ears perked however, when he heard Mercy’s seatbelt unclick as she stood up, making her way to what he deciphered to be a coffee machine, with his now opened eyes. She fixed herself a cup and re-summoned her hologram, before walking over to another part of the shuttle on the upper deck. From what he could see, she seemed to be taking stock of the supplies on the ship, but he didn’t dare unclip his seatbelt while the shuttle was in motion.

        This portion of the voyage, was noticeably less time consuming. The shuttle had flown too high for his own personal comfort, but out of the window, he could see that they were steadily climbing up a tall plateau, in the approach of an obtuse cliff-side. The water that crashed against the base of the plateau caught his eye for but a moment, before the glint of the sunlight reflected off of the cold steel that seemed to spike out of the side of the mountain.

        Hanzo’s eyes marveled briefly at the sight. He knew of Overwatch from his time with the Shimada clan, but he was instructed to fear them, for they were under the control of oppressive world governments that didn’t always honor 'Japanese customs.' But the sight of the facility in front of him was breath-taking enough to make him forget that he was currently airborne. His eyes focused in on the flag, rippling tall above an atrium with the emblem for the organization stamped proudly onto its fabric.

       But as the ship began to descend again, Hanzo’s nerves resurfaced in the worst way. The shuttle began to sway and tilt from side to side, doing its best to find a smooth landing balance. Hanzo’s teeth were clenched hard enough to crack one another, and his heart raced in his chest.  But death declined his reservation on this day, as the shuttle smoothly perched itself onto the landing dock, and the jet boosters silenced their dull hum.

     The hatch opened once more, and the sound of Mercy’s thick heels came clicking down what few stairs there were to the upper level. She walked down and out, past Hanzo, and onto the black pavement. Hanzo quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, following after her out of desperation to get away from yet another air vehicle. Even as she marched ahead of him, he could track her by the sound of her heels, and trail behind her until he caught up.

       She wasted no time, punching in a few codes to what looked like a large gate, before performing a retina scan. Then a voice came over an intercom, stating “Identity confirmed. Agent S-37: Mercy. Welcome back.” Despite the inviting tone of the voice, Mercy marched in as if she had an agenda, taking a sharp left down a brightly lit hallway.

        Hanzo followed after her, still not saying anything. The only sounds were the rolling of his luggage, the clicking of their footsteps, and the hum of the lights that threatened to give him a headache if he didn’t find something else to look at. Several twists and turns later, they approached what appeared to be a hatch. “Open,” Mercy instructed, and the door rose up into the ceiling, to Hanzo’s astonishment. “Someone will speak with you when the hour is decent,” she stated, before turning and walking past him. Hanzo thought to trail after her again, but then he looked into the room and saw that she’d led him to a vacant bedroom.

      When he stepped in, the door slid closed behind him. He turned around in a mild panic, before sighing the word “bathroom.” But the walls seemed to hear him, as a light flicked on in the distance, revealing a pristine toilet and sink. Hanzo dropped his things at the door, making his way to the bathroom and relieving himself, before cleansing off in preparation of sleep. He came back to the door, grabbing his things and dragging them as close to him as possible, before stripping down. His body fell flat on the futon that laid on the ground, and in what felt like mere seconds, he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

     The urge to keep his eyes closed beckoned to him in the same way that a siren sings to a hopeless sailor. Hanzo couldn’t remember the last time that he’d had a night’s sleep so fulfilling. There was something about the way that the futon filled in the gaps of his figure, to complete his frame. The bed was solid and firm as he preferred, so that he wouldn’t feel like he was perpetually falling. Such exact precision to his needs could have only been known and requested by someone who knew him intimately. It could only have been his brother.

     Eventually he managed to conquer his temptations, and peeled his top eye-lid from the bottom. He pressed himself upward, taking in the smell of the orchids that sprouted from the indoor plot that lined the walls. The room had a decorative blend of modern style, while also managing to pay homage to feudal Japan, complete with hanging lanterns and sliding screens that would part with a gesture of his hand to welcome the sun. But what he appreciated most, was the dulled shine of the wooden floor; a specification he’d acquired in his teenage years. He thought that gloss on wood appeared cheap and unclean.

     He had bookshelves, but there were no books. Genji had never been a reader without provocation, so Hanzo assumed he wouldn’t have known what to purchase. In a moment of lamentation, he remarked to himself that the books would have been more than he deserved. But he pulled himself out of his loathing when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a station for him to begin preparing his morning pot of tea. To his disgust, the only additive provided was artificial sweetener, rather than natural fruit juice to boost the flavor. In spite of the oversight, he moved to prepare his brew, deciding to drink it straight.

     As the water molded to the heat, he looked around a bit more, taking in the intricacies of the area before a voice came from a speaker in the corner of his room. “Hanzo Shimada. Good Morning.” Hanzo span around to face what now revealed itself as a screen from the wall, showing a label that read ‘ATHENA.’

     “What is the meaning of this?” Hanzo barked his question, while looking for his suitcase. He found it next to the futon where he left it, and quickly dashed toward it to arm himself.

     “I am Athena; Artificial Intelligence. My programming is interlaced through the entirety of the Gibraltor, where we are presently located. I serve as an autonomous security system, as well as an engine to connect you with the worldwide net.” Hanzo paused for a moment, taking in the words with uncertainty. He had seen similar systems before, but he regarded them with utter disdain. The Omnics had proven themselves dangerous enough when tied to a physical body. It would be foolish to allow artificial intelligence to roam freely and formlessly throughout his living quarters. “Do you prefer Hanzo, or Mr. Shimada. Or Shimada-san? I can switch my communication to Japanese, if you prefer.”

     “Were you recording me? Are you recording me right now?” Hanzo could feel the tension in his heart. He asked the question despite already knowing the answer.

     “Yes. I serve as the security system for the Gibraltar. I record everything that happens on the property. Would you like to see your footage of last night?”

     “I never consented to being recorded!” Hanzo’s nostrils flared with a panic and fury. He looked about, suddenly feeling like a trapped animal.

     “I serve as the security system for the Gibraltar. I record everything that happens on the property. It is my duty and it cannot be overridden. However, the playback of the recordings can only be obtained with your personal consent, and are never uploaded to external servers. Would you like to see the playback footage of last night?”

     “No,” Hanzo barked, before his ears perked up to the sounds of his tea whistling. He quickly snatched it off of the burner before turning back to the screen.

     “Your presence has been requested by Agent T-41: Winston, in central operations. Do you require directions to central operations?”

     “Who is Winston?” As Hanzo asked the question, the screen flickered over to a picture of a gorilla in a space-suit.

     “Winston: A gorilla genetically engineered with modifiers toward cerebral enhancement. As a result, his intelligence rivals the greatest minds in human history. Winston was a member of the Horizon Lunar colony, and was taken under the care of Dr. Harold Winston, from whom he was named. But the experiment proved dangerous, and Winston was forced to flee from the colony, only to resume life on planet earth. He found a home with the scientists of the former Overwatch initiative.”

     Hanzo stared at the photograph for several minutes in disbelief, before a thought crossed his mind. “Show me my own profile.”

     “Shimada, Hanzo.” There was a photo of himself taken from his arrival last night. His eyelids had bags of fatigue and irritation, and the grays on the sides of his head seemed to creep even higher. It was all that he could do not to cringe, but he did notice that there was no biography.

     “Show me Genji Shimada.”

     “Agent O-34: Genji. Upon near fatal injury, Genji was restored back to health by the timely innovation of Dr. Angela Ziegler. He is the world’s only known cyborg, and served with Overwatch under the sub-division Blackwatch before it disbanded.”

     “Edit my profile,” Hanzo instructed, now growing used to the automated system. It responded accordingly.

     “Of course. What would you like it to say?”

     “Remove the name Shimada.”

     “Confirmed, Hanzo. Would you like to add anything else?”

     “No,” Hanzo said, finally loosening his grip on his bow. He turned his head to the side for a moment, but then looked back to the screen when it began to speak again.

      “Your presence has been requested by agent T-41: Winston, in central operations. Do you require directions to central operations?”

      Hanzo exhaled through his nose for a moment, looking about in contemplation before shrugging. He had a feeling the voice would keep asking, so he said “yes.” At his response, the door to the room climbed up into the ceiling and out of sight. Out in the hallway, he saw a blue luminescent arrow light up on the floor.

     “Please follow the arrows. They will guide you to central operations.” Hanzo turned back to the computer screen with uncertainty, but it turned itself off. Clutching his bow and a quiver of arrows, he stepped out of the doorway and onto the arrow on the hallway floor. It blinked out of his way as his foot approached the floor, only to reappear further down the hallway. As he stepped out, the door closed behind him, leaving him no choice but to follow the guidance of the light-up arrow toward Winston.

     Now that fatigue no longer loomed over him like an ancient curse, Hanzo remarked that the lights of the hallway weren’t as offensive as they seemed the night before. But the repetition of its design did nothing to help his sense of direction. Each wall appeared identical, making him feel like a mouse trapped in a maze, desperately trying to find the cheese at the exit. But the arrow led him down one last identical twist, before guiding him into a large open room.

     The hologram monitors that hung from the ceilings all circled around the platform floor, which was elevated from the base. There were several individual stations with smaller screens, but the largest station was in the center of the elevated platform, where an actual gorilla in a space suit was flipping through multiple tabs with its fingers. Hanzo swallowed and gripped his bow before stepping forward, letting the metal of his boot hit the floor flatly to announce his presence.

     “Hm?” The gorilla span around before pushing up its glasses and refocusing its eyes. “Ah, good morning! I hope I haven’t disturbed you. I instructed Athena to send for you once you’d already awoken. You must be Genji's brother, Hanzo! How was your flight? Oh goodness...where are my manners. Pardon me, may I offer you anything?”

     Hanzo blinked in utter disbelief, still doing his best to reconcile with the fact that this gorilla just spoke to him. His lips parted for the moment as his jaw fell open. “Um….”

     “Oh, my sincerest apologies! Allow me to introduce myself! I am Winston, former scientist of the original Overwatch initiative. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Winston said, holding out a hand large enough to palm Hanzo’s entire skull. Hanzo swallowed nervously, eyeing the hand but never shaking it. “Is…something wrong? Hanzo?”

     Hanzo’s eyes flickered between the palm and Winston’s kind expression, which contrasted with his overwhelming size. He swallowed to respond before Athena’s voice called Winston’s attention away. “Winston, you have an incoming message from Agent O-19: Genji.”

     “Patch him through,” Winston commanded, before turning back to a hologram that lowered down toward his face.

     “Winston.” Hanzo’s ears perked as he recognized the voice. It seemed a cruel jest at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he had come to reconcile with his brother still being alive. He moved just in sight of the monitor as Genji continued. “The mission was a succ-Hanzo,” Genji stopped, startled at his brothers appearance. The room was still for a moment before Winston pressed forward.

     “Genji? You were saying?”

     “Should I message back at another time?” As Genji asked the question, Hanzo picked up on the notion that his presence had not yet been approved for these discussions. Yet just as he moved to excuse himself, Winston replied.

     “Please continue.”

     “Very well. The mission was a success. We shut down the factory before the Omnics were able to reassemble themselves. The area is safe again for the moment.”

     “Any sign of enemy activity?”

     “Negative. We have nothing placing Talon or any other faction at the factory. Any footage from the specified hour within a ten mile radius has already been modified. Tracer is out now, trying to comb through to see if she can find anything, but as of now we don’t have any leads.” Winston sighed through his nostrils as his shoulders lowered at the news. 

     “Do you need medical attention?” As Winston asked the question, Hanzo peeked over to see if Genji was wounded. His heart seized for the moment.

     “Negative. No injuries to report,” Genji replied, and Hanzo felt the tension in his chest give slack.

     “Alright. I’m sending the shuttle for extraction. ETA within half an hour.”

     “Roger that,” Genji replied.

     “Would you like a moment?” Winston asked Hanzo, moving the hologram in his direction. Hanzo swallowed.

     “Genji?”

     “You accepted my invitation. I thought for sure you wouldn’t come. This is…surprising.” Hanzo switched to Japanese before carrying on with the conversation.

     <<He’s a gorilla, Genji. This gorilla is speaking to me.>>

     <<He is indeed a gorilla. And he is fluent in several languages, including Japanese>> Genji replied, to Hanzo’s petrified horror. Winston smiled and waived a cheeky waive from behind the hologram. “Good luck brother. I will be there soon.” The hologram blinked out of sight in absolute betrayal, leaving only Hanzo, his embarrassment, and Winston the talking gorilla who just so happens to be fluent in Japanese.

      “I...um...”

      “It’s fine,” Winston said, holding his hands up and tilting his head in a knowing gesture. “I completely understand. This must all be a little overwhelming for you. How about we start over? Welcome to Overwatch. Or at least...what I hope will become Overwatch...again...” Winston said, looking about to the empty work-space.

     “Your computer said that this is the Watchpoint: Gibraltar?” Hanzo couldn’t believe the question that he’d just asked. In truth, he still couldn’t believe anything about this conversation.

     “Yes. This is one of the former Overwatch outposts. I retreated here after the previous Overwatch initiative was disbanded under order of the Petras act in 2042. I lived here with Athena for several years undisturbed, until a few months ago. Athena, the footage,” Winston instructed, as another hologram surfaced in front of Hanzo. What he saw was a video recording of Winston, true to his primal form, grabbing what looked to be an armed black-ops soldier by the ankle and chucking him across the room and out of sight! Then he grabbed another, slamming him by the head to the ground before roaring at the enemy soldiers that retreated in panic. With a clap of his arms, Winston slammed two soldiers together, knocking them out before leaping away to deal with one who’d taken the high ground to fire at him.

     The camera panned back to Winston, but something appeared behind him. A black gaseous wisp of dark smoke materialized from thin air, before assuming the physical form of a hooded figure with a white mask, resembling a stretched skull. The footage paused and Winston spoke. “I was attacked by what we now know to be agents of Talon, a terrorist group that opposed the original Overwatch initiative. This particular instance was led by an agent we've recently identified as Reaper.”

     The footage began to play again, showing Reaper making quick work of Winston with a shotgun in each hand, before shooting out the cables to a hanging pod that fell down upon the gorilla, knocking him unconscious. The Reaper then vanished once more, and moved up the stairs and out of sight before the hologram blinked around to the next section. Hanzo had only heard tales of the Reaper before, in complaints from disgruntled clients from his mercenary work. Until now, he thought of Reaper as slang, or perhaps an urban legend. But his eyes watched on as Winston stood up and shook off his unconsciousness, moving to engage with Reaper once more. “What was he after?” Hanzo asked, still watching the fight between the two, as it tipped to Winston’s upper-hand.

     “We’re not entirely sure what he wanted specifically, but he was looking to extract the saved data files from Athena’s hard-drive. Athena was luckily able to buy me some time to get back onto my feet, but as of now we don’t know,” Winston replied. Just as he spoke, the Reaper on the recording vanished into thin air, leaving behind the two shotguns on the floor.

     “Have you-“

     “-Scanned the shotguns for prints? Yes. From every angle. We don’t have anything that matches, and there are barely any prints on the gun to begin with,” Winston replied, correctly guessing Hanzo’s question. "They’ve made movements since, and I’ve been doing my best to track them. I’m sure you've heard about the assassination of Tekharta Mondatta? And the attempt on Katya Volskaya’s life?”

     Hanzo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t heard about either event, though he recognized the names. He’d obtained his trick arrows from Volskaya industries, preferring their tendency not to ask so many questions about why he needed them. But he knew nothing of Mondatta, only now understanding the rapid selling of his book from the bookstore. “I did not.”

     “Ah, forgive me. As it were, Talon is responsible for both instances. Katya Volskaya managed to survive, even though she was taken hostage. Mondatta however...” Winston began turning around to his central computer and bringing up several more holograms, showing  Mondatta's obituary alongside various attack sites and news reports. Hanzo looked about, doing his best to take in all of the information. “From what I’ve been able to gather, it seems that Talon is actually trying to instigate more conflict with the Omnics. In essence, they're rekindling the Omnic Crisis,” Winston said, before turning back to Hanzo.

     “I’ve gathered a few trusted agents that worked with the former Overwatch initiative, in hopes of getting to the bottom of this and stopping this organization before they can bring about another decade-long war. Among them, your brother Genji answered the call, and volunteered his services. But as I’m sure you’ve already guessed...we’re horribly understaffed.”Hanzo reached out to push away one of the holograms that floated off in response, so that he could maintain his gaze with Winston. “The original Overwatch initiative was composed of the best of the best; soldiers without peer, the brightest scientific minds, doctors able to save people from the very brink of death,” Winston said, and Hanzo winced. “The kind of work that we did - that we’re trying to continue doing - requires that level of excellency in order to minimize the damage to the global population, and swiftly handle threats like these. Genji spoke very highly of you in this regard, and proposed that I extend an offer for you to join us in this endeavor.”

     “And you would put so much faith in my brother’s words? Just as he foolishly places faith in me...”

     “Genji is more than a soldier to me. He has been a comrade in arms, and a stalwart member of both Overwatch initiatives. I trust him with my life, and he is well aware of what kind of person this job requires. He believes that to be you. But the choice is yours, of course.”

     “And if I decline?” Hanzo asked, folding his arms across his chest.

     “You will be sedated and rushed to one of our allied partners in Tokyo, where we will have you admitted as a patient with a heart condition under an alias. We will abandon this base and move to one of our more remote locations, and your life will continue as it was. Any and all interaction with Overwatch will cease,” Winston replied, pushing up his glasses again. Hanzo looked away, uncertainty welling within him before Winston continued. “If you’d like to take some time, I understand. But for now, I must ask you not to leave the premises; for your own safety and ours.”

     “May I retire to gather my thoughts?” Hanzo struggled to reconcile with the fact that he’d just asked a gorilla for permission to leave.

     “Of course. Also, I should mention we have a fully stocked kitchen, a gym for physical fitness, and a shooting ground should you wish to test your accuracy. We also have-“

     “I retire to the shooting ground,” Hanzo interrupted, seeing Winston all too excited to list off the many facilities of the station.

     “I figured that might peak your interests. Athena, guide Hanzo to the training grounds,” Winston instructed, and again the bright arrow flickered on the floor, pointing Hanzo out toward the exit. “If you need anything, Athena can patch you through to me. I’ll be in here.” Hanzo nodded before stepping off and following the bright blue arrow out of the door. He looked back once more, watching as Winston turned before typing quickly at his computer, bringing up several more floating screens. Hanzo shook his head one last time in disbelief, purposely pricking his finger on the tip of one of his arrows.

     Blood. This was real.

Chapter Text

     He listened for the whisper that whipped by his ear each time that he released the arrow from his bow-string.  He fired a swift clean shot that pierced the still air, heading directly toward his target. The heads of the training ground floating bots weren’t particularly difficult for him to strike, as the target area was much larger than that of a human skull. Even still, Hanzo did his best to keep his shots within the relative range of the front scope, that for all intents and purposes served as the training bot’s eye.

    With a spin, he snatched another arrow from his quiver and pulled his arm back for the next shot. He wouldn’t allow himself more than two seconds to line up a target; anything that took longer than that meant that he had already failed. He learned that the bots reassembled themselves after a cool-down period of seven seconds, and then they would float again, as though they hadn’t been dismantled by the arrow moments ago. He had to admit; the opportunity to practice in this way was terribly convenient.

    After releasing another shot, he scaled the wall behind him. Rushing himself to simulate the sensation of being chased, he flipped over the guard railing, using his right arm to carry his weight, while the left guided his form and held his bow. When his feet were on the ground again, he grabbed another arrow from his quiver before taking another shot. The bot fell after a clean hit, but before he could fire another arrow, a hologram screen appeared before him in interruption. He tumbled backwards to recover some distance, but relaxed upon realization that it was only Athena trying to establish communication. “You have a message from Agent T-41: Winston. Shall I connect you?”

   Hanzo swallowed before replying to Athena. “Put him through.” The screen gave a small flicker, before Winston’s face came into recognition. Hanzo quickly quieted his breathing in order to communicate.

   “Hanzo! I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I must say that your accuracy is rather remarkable,” Winston confessed, before adjusting his glasses. The astonishment in his voice was far too humanizing. “If you’ll indulge me for but a moment, I would actually like to test the extent of your ability. Would you mind?”

   Hanzo walked forward past the screen as he knelt down to pick up one of his arrows from earlier. He hadn’t realized that he was being watched, and mentally chastised himself for forgetting that every move that he made was recorded. The hologram followed behind him, keeping Winston in view. “What did you have in mind?” After Hanzo asked the question, he secured the arrow in his quiver before jumping back over the railing, and walking about to collect the others.

   “Actually it’s something of a time trial! We have a program that Athena manages in this training room. The bots will stagger themselves as they come in and out of various rooms. Your task is to eliminate as many of them as possible, before being hit yourself.” Hanzo picked up another arrow before turning to face the screen.

    “And the restrictions?”

    “You are allowed to use the terrain and your gear however you see fit, just as you were. I’m sure you’ve already noticed that the bots reconstruct themselves, so do as you must. The exercise will end immediately if you are hit. Oh...and I should mention; the blasts are concussive. They will not burn upon impact, but they will bruise.”

     “I accept your challenge,” Hanzo declared, standing in full view of the hologram screen. Winston smiled in response.

     “Excellent! I’ll have Athena boot up the protocol. It should begin in approximately one minute.” Before Hanzo could reply, the screen blinked and shut itself down and out of sight. Hanzo glanced about before reaching into his quiver to make sure that he’d recovered all of his arrows. It only took a moment’s touch for him to calculate that he had. With a deep inhale from his nostrils, he closed his eyes and pulled the first arrow from his quiver. His ears would tell him when and where to begin.

     After the sound of Athena's countdown, the hatch to his left slid open. Just as he was warned, one of the training bots came floating forward, but now it fired staggered blasts of light at him from the cannons in its arms. Hanzo tumbled backward and crouched before lining up his shot, and hitting the bot in the center of its head. In the distance he heard a noise akin to a bell’s ring, perhaps to keep score. But he didn’t have long to ponder before the next attack came from his right flank!

     He fired another arrow into the next bot, before running from his present point and ascending the stairs to claim the high-ground. His eyes darted back and forth, clearing the entry points mentally, before taking his vantage point and picking-off the next three bots that emerged from the hatches on the low ground. Each of them fell with a single shot, and the bell rang with every new tally. He climbed the guard railing and hunched forward on the balls of his feet, before leaping for one of the rotating platforms that circled the perimeter of the training area.

     After sticking the landing, he stepped into shooting form again. From this newly secured perch, the bots fell one-by-one, and Hanzo began to lose track of the bell tally that announced his score. Instead, his attention remained on his quiver-count. He would need to climb back down to the low-ground to fetch his arrows if he intended to keep fighting this way. But the training bots weren't waiting for him. They filed out of the hatches one after the other, like insects from a hidden nest. He only took a moment to weigh his options, before jumping down from his floating perch, and sprinting across the ground floor.

     His eyes darted about, keeping track of the line of fire that sprayed toward him. He ran in a zigzag pattern to confuse the bot’s tracking, before flipping over the line of fire. Falling to a knee, he snatched an arrow out of the ground and took another shot; a clean hit through the bot’s head. His former shots fell in similar areas, so he repeated his motions; dashing to the next area, and alternating between firing back and storing the retrieved arrows.

     Even as the pressure of the test escalated, Hanzo found a working rhythm between storing and shooting his arrows. He counted as he worked, always managing to keep his quiver half-full. Each shot was clean, despite being taken in the moments between seconds. The difficulty increased as pairs of bots now emerged from the hatches, but the pressure did nothing to throw his pattern. It was in this moment-in the flurry of enemy fire-that Hanzo would thrive.

      The test stretched a span of minutes before Hanzo noticed that the droids had increased their rate of fire. He managed to time the shots that they would take, so that he could decide when to move and when to stop. But Athena adjusted against him, alternating between an increase and decrease in their velocity. One shot in particular came inches from grazing Hanzo’s stomach. His fatigue had come to claim him.

     He took cover for a moment and crouched to catch his breath, as he counted the arrows in his quiver. He thought he maintained his rhythm, but he was presently at less than half stock. He moved to peek and scan the area, searching for his next arrow, and its next target. But the metallic off-white core of a drone’s body flashed into view! The bots had begun to ascend the stairs, making the high-ground no longer safe. Hanzo defaulted to his hand to hand training, striking the bot with enough force to puncture its external shell and push through to its internal core. He didn’t have time to rest as the next came around the corner swiftly after it. With his elbow, he knocked the droid’s arm upward, before hooking his bow around its neck and turning it around.

    Hanzo pushed out of the corner that he’d work himself into, now using the droid as a shield to plow through the line of fire from the other droids! But once its core became too damaged, he kicked the bot forward before scaling the wall up towards the roof of his tower. He moved about, in efforts to dodge the blasts that arced up to hit him from the awkward angle, as he dropped a few more droids to clear a landing space. When the area was secured, he dove from a height that he hadn’t jumped from in far too long.

    His muscle memory kicked in and he remembered to tumble forward as he landed, but his knee popped loose in a way that frightened him. He rolled behind a wall to take cover once more. That leap would have been doable at twenty-five years old; thirty-eight was a different matter altogether. He peeked back around to take a few more shots, before dashing around the side of the wall.

    His gait was off-balance and clumsy now, and the fatigue began to pull at his muscles. Hanzo could hear his heart and lungs in his ear, as the ache in his chest seemed to worsen with the release of each arrow. The purpose of his target practice had been to make sure that the fight never lasted this long. He scolded himself internally for his weakness as he willed himself onward, operating on pure adrenaline.

    But the bots upgraded into full blown enemy soldiers, now firing with leading shots in prediction of where he would move next. He span about like a teetering leaf falling from a tree branch, doing his best to dodge the blasts. His nose wrinkled in furious determination as his tattoo began to burn the flesh of his arm. The dragons were itching for release, and he knew that with their help he could clear the field in a single shot. He swallowed before snatching an arrow from his quiver, giving in to their demands, when-

    “Argh!”

    A droid came from his blind spot at eight o’clock catching his side! Winston had been correct; that shot certainly would bruise. But as the shot connected with his rib-cage, each of the droids powered down, before filing out of the training ground one by one. Hanzo took a knee, shutting his eyes and breathing as his shoulders and neck fell forward. As he calmed himself, Athena's voice came over the intercom.

    “Final score: seventy-two eliminations.”

    Hanzo stood after regaining his breath, but he was no longer immune to the complaining of his left knee. His eyes flashed to the floor when a light up arrow seemed to be guiding him out of the training facility. He didn’t argue, instead opting to follow the arrow and leaving the training grounds.

 *******************************************

     “Incredible...”

     Athena was kind enough to guide Hanzo to the showers, before his presence was requested again by Winston. He needed to obtain Hanzo’s permission to playback the footage of his accuracy test. But once Hanzo agreed, he lost the gorilla’s attention to his former self. While Winston only had praise for Hanzo’s maneuvers, the archer critiqued himself in the privacy of his mind. He noted the angles that he’d taken in order to dodge enemy fire, and paid special attention to the decline in their efficiency. In the beginning his positioning was sound, but as the test continued, he exchanged precision and grace for fatigued adrenaline. Endurance would become his next endeavor.

     “And to think you’ve done this with a bow...You have a finite number of shots, but you still managed to last for so long. I admit when I saw the bow and arrow I was a little apprehensive, but…” Winston started, as his eyes widened at the replay of Hanzo’s cleanest shot. He adjusted his glasses before continuing. “…You’ve certainly mastered your craft!”

     The compliment fell upon deaf ears. Hanzo was keeping a mental tally of the mistakes that he made, but he lost count in his twenties. Winston's prattling had drowned out into series of deep voiced noises, as the words turned to mush upon arrival at his ears. But at the sound of the hatch door opening, his hearing immediately snapped back into focus.

    “What’s this I hear about the training record being broken?” Hanzo glanced over his shoulder for the moment, to put a face to the unfamiliar voice. He recognized the accent, pairing it to the American south, and he thought it to be a bit of an exaggeration. But if his outfit were any indication of this man’s devotion toward old western culture, it could be said that perhaps his accent was held back.

     “Ah, Cassidy,” Winston announced, as he turned away from the screen. “Yes, I recall that you kept an unofficial ranking ledger, based on our scores in this simulation. According to Athena, Hanzo has placed with seventy-two eliminations. I thought you might want to update your records.”

     Hanzo turned to look fully, as the man walked up next to him. He wore a brown cowboy hat, with a plaid shirt and rolled up sleeves; one of which betrayed the bionic arm that seemed to climb up past his elbow. The image came complete with khakis covered by chaps, and an over-sized belt buckle that spelled ‘BAMF.’ Hanzo raised an eyebrow at Cassidy, before turning away again; no longer interested in this conversation, or the replay.

     “Seventy-two hunh? Well…ain’t that just perfect,” Cassidy said, though the words were a little slurred, due to being blocked from the cigar in his mouth. But Hanzo didn’t miss the hint of irritation in his tone. "You’re right...he did break a record. Mine.” Cassidy turned to glance at Hanzo for a moment, and Hanzo sized him up in kind. “Guessin' you’re Genji’s brother then?”

     Hanzo didn’t respond but to turn an look away. But Cassidy didn’t seem to mind as he turned his own attention back to the footage of Hanzo’s test. “Well Winston, that puts Shimada here at fifth place. He just snuck by me’n Tracer.”

     “Hm!” Winston turned back to the screens as well, but Hanzo needed clarification.

     “Fifth?” Hanzo tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but he was too distracted. From the corner of his eye, he would swear that Cassidy was smirking.

     “That's right. Congratulations are in order. S’not everyday somebody comes and shakes up the time trials. Ah well...s'pose my reign was fun while it lasted,” Cassidy drawled with a shrug.

     “I want to take the test again,” Hanzo declared, completely exposing his self-frustration.

     “That would be ill advised. The time trials-while exhilarating-do put one through a great deal of stress.” As Winston spoke, the footage cut to Hanzo’s death-defying leap, which jeopardized his knee in the landing. “That looked like a nasty fall, and there’s a slight hesitation in your recovery as you stand here. Are you alright? We have medical staff,” Winston advised, turning to look at Hanzo as he pointed at the recording.

      “I’m fine. I want to retake the test.” Hanzo stared back at Winston, his expression unyielding and proud.

       “Easy there Shimada. Fifth ain’t bad at all. S’actually an accomplishment. The four ahead of you were either in a vehicle, or they’re part vehicle if you catch mah drift...” Cassidy advised. Hanzo ignored him, and pressed forward.

        “Who has the top score?” Hanzo could feel his pulse in his chest, fearing that he already knew the answer.

        “That’d be mama-bear at one hundred n' twenty-seven,” Cassidy answered. Hanzo did feel a momentary relief in the knowledge that he hadn’t been bested by Genji. But the difference between fifth and first was continental in his opinion. A distance that he was determined to close. 

        “Yes, Captain Amari’s score is the highest that we’ve seen to date. But we must acknowledge that she was a participant in the super soldier project. Her physicality has been artificially enhanced to the peak of a human female, and her right eye was surgically removed and replaced with an imitation that functioned as a bionic telescope,” Winston explained, finally moving away from the monitor and coming toward Hanzo.

         “I was there when she did it. See-you’re all over the place in this video. But believe it or not, mama-bear never moved once. She found herself a perch and picked them all off as they were coming out the doors,” Cassidy explained, as he gestured to the recording. “After her, it was Reyes with one-twenty-one, and then Jack Morrison with one-seventeen. But the Commander just got beat out by D.Va maybe 'bout a month back.”

          Hanzo sighed, opting against embarrassing himself further than he already had. He looked away for the moment, before being brought back into the conversation when he saw Cassidy's outstretched hand. “The name’s Cole Cassidy.” Hanzo looked at his hand, and then back up to McCree's face, before turning back to Winston and ignoring the cowboy entirely.

          “If it is all the same to you, I will retire to the medical bay.”

          “Splendid! I’ll alert them of your approach. Athena-please guide Hanzo to medical. Will you require an escort?” As Winston asked his question, the arrow on the floor brightened once more.

          “No. I am fine.”

          “Ha,” Cassidy laughed before shrugging, and putting his hand back into his pocket. “This one’s got a little nerve on him, hunh? S’alright. Genji was the same way. We’ve got’em all in here. Someone’s bound to get up under that skin. Just give it a little time.”

          “Tch,” Hanzo mocked, before turning to take his leave, and following the arrow on the ground out of the control room, and far away from Cole Cassidy.

Chapter Text

FLASHBACK:

  After what felt like weeks of errorless diligence, Hanzo finally managed to convince his mother to allow him a visit to the inner city theme park. He’d earned it after all, having aced his latest proficiency exam, and proving himself to be reading and communicating at levels far beyond his age. He was meticulous, never stepping a toe out of line, and remaining seen, but unheard in all family matters. He waited until she was cornered, with a free schedule and no legitimate reason to say “not now.” Saying no would make her the villain of the story, no matter the rendition or translation.

  But his mask of being the perfect child began to crack, when his father enforced the clause that Genji could come along as well, despite the blatant difference in their academic achievement. Genji was subpar in all subjects -even amongst normal standards- and yet he was allowed to come along. The irritation stung in a way that Hanzo couldn’t quite form into words. Rather, he let the grimace on his face communicate it for him.

  Twelve-year-old Hanzo sat cross-armed in the back seat of the rental car that their mother called for them. He chastised himself mentally, for foolishly hoping that their mother would accompany them into the city to enjoy the new theme park. As always, she had family business to attend. But she made up for her absence by supplying them with two following cars, and guards disguised as civilians to keep them safe in her stead. Hanzo had already surpassed the need for protection, even at twelve. Martial arts and kendo were his favorite moments of the day, and he excelled in its study. Unsurprisingly, combat training had been one of the few subjects that Genji excelled at as well. The bodyguards were a formality that they allowed their parents, so that they could pretend that they were still raising children, rather than soldiers.

  But his generosity came with great risk, for he knew the moment that his brother threw a tantrum, the guards would force them to leave, the day would end, and they would be driven right back to Hanamura. He took a moment to glance over at his brother, who was only barely restrained by the seat belt across his chest. Genji fidgeted and kicked his feet, as he stared wide-eyed out the window, doing his best to scout out the park before their arrival. He would periodically shift between looking at the promotional packet for the park, and looking out the window to see if they were there yet, knowing better than to annoy Hanzo or the driver. A younger Genji would have pressed, but it seemed that his brother finally began to learn the tricks of the trade, as they aged. And yet, Hanzo didn’t know what to make of this moment. This was the first time the pair were allowed out of the house without the supervision of a parent. He had become what he’d always feared; Genji’s keeper. 

  “Don’t make a fool of yourself today, Genji,” Hanzo warned, with a side-eyed glance at his brother.

  “I won’t,” Genji quipped back defensively.

   “Mother and Father are testing us. They want to see if we’re capable enough to go out without them. If you mess this up,-“

  “I won’t,” Genji interrupted, with something halfway between a growl and a whine. Genji glanced back to Hanzo out of the corner of his eye, and Hanzo maintained his own glare for but a moment longer, before turning to look out his own window.

  “When we arrive, where do you want to go first?” Genji turned his head at Hanzo’s questioned, seemingly shocked that his brother would even consider his opinion. “We have to make them think that we’re getting along nicely.”

  “The go-karts,” Genji replied quickly, now fidgeting even more at the thought.

  “Are you sure they’ll let you drive? You’re short. I doubt your feet will even reach the pedals,” Hanzo teased, looking to his brother’s small feet, before looking back out the window.

  “Yes they will! I’m taller than you were when you were nine! Dad said so! They have to!”

  “And will you cry if they don’t let you on?”

  “I don’t cry anymore. I’m not a baby,” Genji countered, with an eye roll for emphasis.

  “Hn,” Hanzo snorted, before leaving the conversation entirely. He knew better than to poke his brother for much longer, and prove himself right. They rode in silence, save for the sound of the car rushing along the pavement, and the inevitably resumed cadence of Genji’s kicking feet. The buildings and passing cars whipped by on the other sides of the glass panes, blurring in similarity with the passing of time.

  But from the look on Genji’s eyes, as they threatened to fall clean out of his skull if they grew any wider, Hanzo made the connection that he’d spotted the park, and that their arrival was in the immediate future. He too leaned forward to peer out of the window, and when his own eyes fixed themselves upon the various colorful twists and turns of the roller coasters, he couldn’t help the smile that crept along the lower half of his face. Though for what it was worth, he did keep his composure for longer than his brother, who grinned from ear to ear like the child he denied himself of being mere moments ago.

  As the car pulled in to the parking lot, Genji unbuckled his seatbelt preemptively, and brought his foot up across his thigh to untie and then tighten his shoe laces. Hanzo waited until the car was parked, before removing his own seatbelt, and opening his door before one of his bodyguards could come to do it for him. He asked his mother to instruct them not to hover, but he feared that they wouldn’t heed her instruction. Genji was already around the front end of the car and darting toward the park entrance, before Hanzo could catch up with him. They blended in with the incoming visitors, taking their place in line, and moving forward as people passed through the payment station. The line moved forward, until Hanzo was greeted by the Omnic at the ticket booth.

  “Welcome to Shiroyama park! How may I assist you?” The sentient robot moved as the lights on its face dimmed and brightened with its speech. It opened its hands in a welcoming gesture toward Hanzo. “Two tickets please,” Hanzo responded, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “Certainly. I simply need to see your identification.” Just as it asked, Hanzo reached into his wallet, pulling out the identification card that his mother instructed him to carry. Genji also held forth his own, and the omnic quickly scanned the cards to validate their ages. “That will be eleven-thousand two-hundred yen,” The omnic stated, having assessed that Hanzo was now a Junior, while Genji still qualified as a child. Hanzo handed over the card that his parents entrusted him for the day. The Omnic took the card and ran it through its own built in payment processor, before handing the card back. “Credit approved. Welcome to Shiroyama park. Enjoy your stay!”

   Before the Omnic could even finish its closing remarks, Genji whipped by Hanzo through the now opened doors and began making his way toward the back of the park. Hanzo rushed after his brother, before looking back to see that their bodyguards were stalled at the gate. He snickered to himself, before turning frontward again to see that Genji was already in line for the go-karts. 

  “See? I told you I was tall enough!” Genji stood as proud as a morning rooster, demonstrating his height in comparison to the sizing chart at the beginning of the line.

  “Barely,” Hanzo teased, and Genji rolled his eyes in irritation.

  “After this we’re going to the dragon’s coil, and when it gets too hot, we’re going in for the arcade. Understand?”

  “Okay, okay!” Genji shushed his older brother with a wave of his hand as the line moved forward. The last pair of people were let in just before Genji for the current go-kart race.

  “I’m gonna beat you!” Genji teased as he climbed up onto the waiting line railings, standing up to see the hover-cars whip along the streets.

  “You’ve never driven before,” Hanzo critiqued, leaning against the opposite railing.

  “So? I’m still gonna win! Woooooo!” Genji cheered and waved at the first place racer, a teenage boy milking the crowd as he just passed what everyone assumed to be his girlfriend. As the cars raced by, the wind that whipped behind them tickled the tresses of Genji’s hair. “And if I do, you have to do my homework for a week!” 

  “No,” Hanzo replied, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to help you cheat. You need to learn and study on your own.”

  “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose?” Genji jumped down from the railing as he asked his question, getting up into his brother’s face.

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” Hanzo snarled back proudly.

  “Then race me!”

  “Hmph. Fine. Just don’t cry when you lose.” Hanzo walked ahead of Genji, so he didn’t see the face that Genji mocked him with behind his back. As the previous racer’s round came to a close, the Omnics helped them out of their cars and guided them to the exit, before opening the gates for the next round of racers to come through. Hanzo made his way to a white and silver hover-car, with the number four neatly painted along its frame. It only took him a moment to strap himself in, quickly making himself familiar with the different pedals and handles at his disposal. The omnic’s voice came over the intercom, listing off the safety rules and regulations, and then announcing that they were free to drive at flash and sound of the fourth light from the top. Hanzo stole a quick glance at his brother, whose energy dwarfed everyone else’s at the park. He felt a little embarrassment wash over himself, before rolling his eyes, and refocusing frontward. The omnic announcer came over the intercoms once more. “Racers on your mark!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“GO!”

*************************

  “You cheated!” Hanzo purposely ignored his brother as he walked past him toward the exit.

  “No I didn’t.”

  “You cheated! You knew that car was faster than all of the others! I don’t know how, but you knew! This isn’t fair! I want a rematch!” Genji whipped around to cut Hanzo off, even as his elder brother quickly maneuvered around him.

  “You’re acting like a baby. Stop embarrassing yourself,” Hanzo scolded, as he headed to a nearby vending machine. He swiped his own card and chose a cold canned tea, before continuing. “It’s called wind resistance. Something you would have known about, had you studied your physics lessons. I drove behind you for the duration of the match, so that you would bear the brunt of the wind resistance as I coasted in your slipstream. Then toward the end, I accelerated from behind you and dashed to the front, taking advantage of the lack of wind resistance.”

  “That sounds a lot like cheating to me!” Genji continued to hurl his accusations at Hanzo, who ignored him as he continued to fuss with the vending machine.

  “Everything sounds like cheating to you, if it ends in you losing. Now stop whining.” As Hanzo finished his transaction, the vending machine presented another canned beverage, which Hanzo took before throwing it to Genji. “Drink this. It’s too hot, we have to stay hydrated.”

  “But I hate grapefruit!” Genji looked at the can in utter disgust, before looking back at Hanzo, who simply shrugged and drank from his own can of chilled tea.

  “You could have chosen if you weren’t so busy whining,” he taunted, before taking another sip of his beverage. He went toward a few stray benches, taking a seat as he forced the rest of his drink down his throat. The sun beat against the back of his neck in a way that threatened the condition of his skin. He cursed himself for not remembering to lather the area in sunscreen, before hiking his collar up from the back to cover the sensitive skin.

  “...Does this meant that I have to do your homework now?” Genji pouted, looking up to his older brother, while trying to force himself to swallow the grapefruit beverage that Hanzo ordered for him.

  “I won’t ever let you do my homework, don’t worry. Some of us actually want to graduate. No, your duty is to not annoy me for an entire week.”

  “Fine. Starting tomorrow,” Genji, quickly added, before tipping his head back and chugging down the rest of his beverage. He gargled as he swallowed the fluids, the last drop had fallen from the back of the can. Then, in blatant defiance of the etiquette with which he was raised, Genji belched with enough force to disturb the birds that scoured the ground in search of crumbles. Hanzo glared at him in utter disgust, before rolling his eyes and nursing his own can. “Come on, hurry up! We have to go to the Dragon’s coil!”

  “Calm down. I am almost finished,” Hanzo barked, as he leaned back against the table. He continued to sip his drink, until Genji climbed over him haphazardly to reach the recycling to Hanzo’s right. Hanzo made a fuss as he moved away from Genji, recreating the three foot distance between them to exist in his own personal bubble. But as he turned away his eyes widened and honed in on an unassigned target.

  Heading toward a nearby stand for cotton candy, was a girl. She wore her hair in a low ponytail at the back of her head on the right side. It was clipped into place with a pink and blue hair ornament, with orbs reminiscent of fake pearls. She wore a floral printed sundress that turned when she moved, with shorts that poked out just underneath, and yellow sneakers. Hanzo hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring until he dropped his can.

  “You like her!” Genji teased, as Hanzo snapped out of his trance. The can slipped out of his grasp and fell to the floor with a metallic clap. Hanzo quickly reached down to grab it, as he tried to will-away the warmth that appeared on his face.

  “You’re loud! I do not. I was looking off at the other rides. The Dragon coil’s line has already grown too large, we have to skip it,” Hanzo announced, but when he didn’t hear a reply from his brother, he turned to look at him. What he saw was Genji’s face, contorted into a manner which conveyed that his younger brother wasn’t convinced.

  “If you weren’t looking at her then why is your face all red and sweaty?” Hanzo wrinkled his nose.

  “Because it’s hot,” Hanzo quipped back, clutching his can a little too tightly, as the aluminum began to crease in his grip.

  “It’s not that hot. You look like you’re about to throw up. Do you want me to go get one of mom’s guards?” Genji asked the question, but his facial expression made it very clear that it wasn’t coming from a place of genuine concern. Rather more akin to a trapping taunt. Hanzo’s eyes half lidded as he breathed sharply through his nose.

  “No, I’m fine. Let’s just go!” The two looked each other in the eye for a moment long, before Genji turned.

  “EXCUSE ME!” Genji shouted as he ducked under Hanzo’s arm and ran toward the girl at the stand.

  “Genji!” Hanzo pushed off of the ground in a cold sprint, using the friction to propel him forward. Feeling his brother’s presence behind him, Genji turned just in time to see Hanzo bounding toward him with the entirety momentum. Genji shrieked, before side stepping and running around the recycling bins to put an obstacle between them. Genji faked as if he would run left, but when he saw that Hanzo fell for the stunt, he shifted his feet and nimbly turned to run in the opposite direction. Hanzo sluggishly corrected himself, chasing after Genji, who now put enough distance between them to flee.

  The brothers proceeded to run, as Genji teasing called “Hey you! You in the dress!” To Hanzo’s horror, the girl actually turned around, looking for the source of who had been calling for her Hanzo made a desperate lunge for Genji, who zig-zagged just in time, before turning to dive under one of the metallic picnic benches. Hanzo ran around to the other side to cut him off, but Genji rolled out of the other end, and quickly looked about to find the girl again. Hanzo slammed his hands down onto the table before kipping up with his feet and leaping over it entirely. His heels slammed into the bench, and he used it to launch himself onto the table and after his brother. Genji shrieked, before quickly rushing to his immediate right, but Hanzo used the increase in speed from his vault to his advantage.

  He charged desperately after his brother, closing the distance between then with each stride. Genji was more agile; more nimble. But Hanzo’s legs were longer and stronger; in a cold sprint he could catch his brother. But what he hadn’t anticipated was Genji’s next move. The younger brother awkwardly stuck his right leg out, using the friction of his shoe as an anchor, and threw himself into a wide and haphazard turn. Hanzo hadn’t anticipated the move, and flailed, doing his best to stop himself. He heard a shriek, and he kicked his own shins in place, hopping and skidding a few times, before coming to a complete halt, only inches from full force colliding with the girl in the skirt. She turned, upon realizing that she hadn’t been knocked onto the ground, and opened her eyes.

  Hanzo and the girl were so close that their noses would touch if either of them shifted even slightly. Hanzo stood on one foot, balancing his weight on his leg, as the other was up in the air behind him, hanging as a counter weight to keep him from moving forward. His arms were over her shoulders, suspended in mid-air, as he nervously held his breath, both nervous at being so close and trying his hardest not to fall over onto her. He eased himself back into position, lowering his foot to the ground and correcting his stance, before retracting his arms and exhaling. “I am so sorry,” Hanzo quickly apologized, immediately moving away from the girl.

  “N-no, you’re fine. I shouldn’t have been in your way!” The girl quickly apologized, before stepping back herself, But she shrieked when she felt something brush against the back of her tendon. When she turned around, she saw that it was the whispy ends of her cotton candy, that she’d dropped on the ground.“Oh no!”

  “Please, allow me to buy you another one! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” Hanzo quickly fell to his knees, scooping the dirty cotton candy up off of the floor, and moving to dispose of it in the nearby waste bin.

  “No thank you, that’s fine! I didn’t need it anyway!” The girl smiled apologetically, as if she had done something wrong. Hanzo ignored her, as he returned to her.

  “I must insist. I would shame myself not to. Please, what flavor was this?” The girl made a face as if she would protest, but she relented.

  “…Blue raspberry,” she replied, with that same apologetic look on her face. Hanzo nodded, and after an overly-formal bow, he turned to the Omnic that worked at the cotton candy stand, and ordered her another. The Omnic took Hanzo’s card and scanned it for payment, before handing it back and turning to spin another spool of cotton candy. “You didn’t have to, really! It was no trouble at all.”

  “I have embarrassed myself. I shouldn’t have been chasing my brother that way. I could have hurt you,” Hanzo chastised as he looked away, anxiously waiting for the cotton candy so that he could repay the girl and then disappear from her life forever. But to his surprise, she chuckled.

  “It looked like you almost caught him, actually. That’s him over there, right? Hiding behind that can?” Hanzo’s eyes followed to where the girl was pointing. Genji did manage to conceal himself very neatly, but his shoe had come undone, and the lace poked out just far enough that they could see him.

  “Genji! Come apologize to her right now, or I’m calling mom and we’re going home!” Hanzo yelled with a rage that Genji knew better than to fight. He moved from behind the trashbin, and walked over with his head hung guiltily. He bowed just as formally as his brother.

  “Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have behaved so rudely. I hope you weren’t hurt.”

  “I-I’m fine! Really! We didn’t even bump into each other! I just dropped my cotton candy because I was scared,” the girl explained, holding her hands up in a surrendering manner.

  “We shouldn’t have scared you,” Hanzo chastised, before reaching up to take the cotton candy spool from the Omnic, and handing it over to her. “Please forgive us for our transgressions. We are sorry to have disturbed you. I hope that this cotton candy is as delicious as the one before.” As Hanzo went to move away from the girl, to his anger, Genji pressed.

  “Hey, can I have one too?”

  “Absolutely not. We’re leaving.”

  As Hanzo turned to leave however, his ears perked to the girl at the cotton candy stand. “What kind would you like?” She was talking to Genji, whose eyes lit up. Hanzo marched over, intent on stopping this before anything could happen.

  “Lime ple-“

  “Genji!” Hanzo barked and Genji flinched, before shrugging.

  “And what about you?” As the girl asked, she flashed a smile that staggered Hanzo for a moment. He bashfully backed away.

  “Please, we couldn’t trouble you. We’re perfectly fine, and we should be going,” Hanzo explained, feeling horrible about what was happening.

  “He likes blue raspberry too! Like you!” Genji interrupted, and Hanzo made a face that threatened the full extent of his wrath. But the girl turned to the omnic immediately, and ordered two more spools. Despite Hanzo’s protests, she handed them both spools full of fluffy cotton candy.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Genji cheered as he took his bite.

  “I cannot accept this. Please, ask for your money back,” Hanzo said, now mimicking her own surrendering pose. But she shook her head.

  “It’s free for me! My dad works on the Omnics when they have problems. In exchange, I can eat here for free! Please, take it!” Hanzo sighed before taking the cotton candy. Genji was already face first in his own spool anyway, so protesting at this point was utterly futile. He slowly took a bite of the delicious fluff, waiting as it disappeared in his mouth. “But you must do something for me. Will you?”

  “Anything for you!” Genji cheered despite his mouth overflowing with cotton candy.

  “May I come with you? It’s boring here by myself all day. Is that alright?” Genji smiled with all of his teeth, before turning to Hanzo for approval. Hanzo looked between the two of them; Genji’s wide expectant eyes, and the girls more reserved, kind, innocent gaze. He felt the blush creep back onto his cheeks before mumbling.

  “S-sure….”

  “Yaaaaay! We made a new friend! Yes!”

  Genji cheered, spinning around before eating his cotton candy again. “I’m Genji, and this is my brother Hanzo! It’s nice to meet you! We don’t have any friends, because we’re home schooled.” Hanzo clapped an embarrassed hand over his own face.

  “Forgive him. He has no sense of boundary,” Hanzo mumbled, as he raked his skin down with his pull, and rolled his eyes.

  “My name is Yuka! It’s nice to meet you! My dad and I move all the time, so I don’t have any friends either.” She shrugged, and smiled, before pinching off a bit from her new spool and flicking it into her own mouth.

  “Hey! This is so cool! Do you have a phone? If you give me your phone number, we can be friends forever!” Genji didn’t even wait for Yuka to reply, before reaching into his pocket, and shoving his phone in her face. To say that Hanzo was mortified would have been an understatement. But Yuka took the phone, and looked back to Genji.

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah! And then we can ride rides together, too! We’ll have fun all the time!” Hanzo looked between Genji and Yuka. He would never admit it, but there was a part of him that was honestly jealous. Genji made friends so easily.

  “Okay!” She nodded enthusiastically, before putting her number into Genji’s phone. She handed it back. “There! Will you call me, so that I have yours?”

  “Yes! I’ll do that now!” Genji pressed the button to call her, and her phone rang. She lifted her skirt to reach into the pocket of the shorts that she wore beneath them. She accepted Genji’s contact information, and immediately added him into her phonebook with a smile.

  “Oh yay! Thank you, Genji!”

  “Come on! Let’s go!” Genji threw what remained of his cotton candy spool into the waste bin nearby, before charging off. “If we hurry we can make it to the Dragon Coil while the line is low! Come with us Yuka!”

  “Genji slow down!” Hanzo yelled, but Yuka just giggled.

  “We’d better get going, hunh?” She skipped a little, before breaking into a sprint after Genji. Hanzo sighed, before running after them both. But as he jogged, he felt the adrenaline kick in. Despite his own protests, he felt his lips curving up into a grin, as he closed the distance between himself Genji and Yuka. The trio ran across the pavement in tandem, set on the adventure before them.

Chapter Text

 The medical bay was empty when he arrived. In fact, it hadn’t been much of a bay at all. From the way that Winston described the room, Hanzo expected a fully stocked arsenal of health supplies and medicinal refinery. Instead there was a chill to the room, and the lights were far too dim to allow precision. Hanzo made it a point to inspect the room’s cleanliness, before hiking himself up onto the front of the examination table.                  

  He only waited for a moment, before the automatic hatch from the opposite wall opened behind him. As the door retreated upward into its crevice, he immediately recognized the figure that stepped in through the other room as Dr. Angela Ziegler from the night before. She was face first in her own notes, stopping just before him and reviewing them once more, before dismissing them with a wave of her hand. The hologram disappeared from sight, and Hanzo looked to her, though she seemed to make it a point to look away. “I saw the impact from the training video. Athena forwarded the footage to me once you decided to come to the medical bay for attention,” Mercy said, moving from opposite angles to gage the injury to Hanzo’s left knee as she spoke. Hanzo cleared his throat, before responding.

   “A careless mistake. Never to be repeated,” he stated, feeling the awkward tension in the room. But he took pause in observance of the way that she carried herself. Despite their gruff first meeting, Mercy’s resolve was giving way to her own sense of professionalism.

  “Before I can begin anything, I have to obtain your permission to proceed, and you will have to roll up your pant leg so that I can take a better look at your knee.” She didn’t wait for his response, as she summoned yet another hologram, and spun it around to face Hanzo. “Would you like this in Japanese?”

  “English is fine,” He said dismissively, as his eyes scanned down the legal and medical jargon of the text before him. The clauses were knitted tighter than any scarf he’d ever worn, but he made it a point to read every comma and period, before pressing his thumb to the bottom right corner for a finger-print signature. Once the system registered his digital acknowledgement, the hologram disappeared, and Mercy stepped forward. He did as instructed, pulling up his left pant leg until it reached the middle of his thigh. Though they were carved into place before his training room incident, Mercy stopped to take a note of the scars that creeped along the ridges of his calf and shin, before her eyes scanned up to his bruised and red knee. The discoloration began at the slope, just before the arch of his joint. It crept along however, with signs of injury coursing up the front and sides of his knee, and thinning just at the very bottom of his thigh.

  “I need you to be honest with me; has this happened before?”

  “No,” he lied. He’d hurt that same knee before, after an off-the-books job he took in Croatia. But the injury healed itself with ice and a night’s rest.

  “Do I have your permission to take an X-Ray, so that I might pinpoint the injury?” Hanzo simply nodded, and Mercy turned to one of the cabinets to her right. She opened the doors, before grabbing what Hanzo could only describe as a tablet. “I need you to lie back please, in order for the image to be still. Do you require assistance?”

  “No.” Hanzo pressed down onto the examination table with his palms, before pushing up and lifting himself backwards, until enough of his leg was supported to lay flat. He laid back himself and closed his eyes, keeping his arms at his sides.

  “Alright, I’m scanning now. Remain still for me, please.” Hanzo did as instructed, while Mercy used her tablet’s camera to scan the surface of his knee. Once the image buffered, she held in her hands a live-feed x-ray of Hanzo’s knee. She used her thumb and finger to highlight and maximize on the screen, before stepping around to his table-side. “If you’ll look here,” she began, waiting for him to open his eyes before continuing. “Your patella is loosened from the groove of your ligaments. When it’s in place, you can walk, run, and sit normally. But with it ajar like this, you will experience pain if you continue to move without treatment.” Hanzo swallowed, but Mercy continued. “If it were completely removed, we would have to begin surgery. But fortunately for you, it’s only slightly ajar, which means it’s treatable in multiple ways. I could still perform surgery, and correct it manually, and then with minor physical therapy, you’ll be back to peak performance within six weeks. If you’d rather not opt for the surgery, I could simply place you into a physical therapy regimen. You’ll have to wear a brace and perform all of the necessary exercises as instructed, but your knee should heal itself after approximately three month’s time.” Hanzo inhaled sharply through his nose, frustrated with himself and the injury.

  “And is there no faster option than the surgery?” As Hanzo asked the question, he noted the hesitation in Mercy, before she continued.

  “You may or may not have been made aware of this, but my specialization is actually nano-biology. I’ve developed an information system that allows me to accelerate the rate of healing within your knee, but this comes at the cost of being injected with a serum of my own development, to stabilize the effects of the radioactive energy that I’ll have to use in order to hasten your healing. I always advise against this however, as hastening healing is unnatural, and this process hasn’t been examined thoroughly enough to be used in modern hospitals. I only recommend it in situations of dire emergency. You may be uncomfortable for now, but this injury will not kill you.”

  “And if I use this method, how swiftly will I heal?” Again, Mercy paused before responding.

  “You’ll be at optimum health by tomorrow morning.” Hanzo’s eyes widened, as he looked to her before looking away in contemplation. “Again, this is completely treatable by physical thera-“ she continued, but Hanzo tuned her out. His eyes instead honed in on the kanji on her newly exposed wrist. It took him a moment, but when the wave of realization hit, his eyes widened again.

  “You...are Genji’s soulmate?” Mercy was mid-sentence when Hanzo interrupted. She choked on her own words before making it a point to pull up her sleeve and cover the name once more. Hanzo felt a twinge in his stomach that he couldn’t quite explain. It was a mixture of several feelings at once, but the most prominent was the guilt that welled within him, over how he’d treated her earlier.

  “I’d like the conversation to remain on your knee. Please allow me to do my job,” she responded, the stern inflection of her tone implying that that wasn’t a request at all.

  “You used this nano-technology to save my brother? After...” Hanzo paused, looking away for a moment. She sighed, before picking up the conversation.

  “Yes. Genji maintains that he is as fit as he was before my operation, but he was an inch from death before I was called in to operate on him. Even now, he must be sustained by machinery until I can identify the best way to restore him to who he was before. But he is not an example. Your situations are entirely different.”

  “Yet my brother bears the risks of any negative side effects that might come with your experimentation?” Hanzo made a note of the way that her eyebrows narrowed. He had a knack for getting under her skin, even when he didn’t mean to.

  “Genji made record to donate his body to science in the event of a premature death. Any agreement that transpired between he and I, happened while he was a fully conscious and legally independent adult, not that this has anything to with your knee.”

  “It means more to me than you could ever know.” Hanzo blinked for a moment, looking down at his knee, before looking back up to her. ”The nano-treatment. How much will it cost me?” Mercy pursed her lips for a split second, before pulling up another holographic form.

  “It’s free of charge. But you will have to authorize me to use it, and release me from any legal action that you might pursue in the event of a negative reaction to the treatment.” She pushed the hologram forward slightly, and Hanzo sat up. This time, he quickly glanced over the text, before authorizing it again with a thumb-print in the bottom right corner. “Right then. You may sit up or remain where you are on the table; whichever is more comfortable for you. I will return in a moment.” Hanzo heard her leave through one of her hatches, before he sat up. He threw his knee back over the edge of the examination table as he inched forward to the edge and waited in silence. The guilt continued to course through him, as he tried his best not to dwell too thoroughly on the attempt that he made on his brother’s life. Mercy didn’t leave him to stew for long as she came back through, prepped and ready for operation.

  “Alright. First I’m going to have to inject you with this serum. You might experience a slight discomfort for a moment, but it will settle in approximately ten minutes,” she explained, before gently grabbing onto the back of his calf. She found the optimum vein with a quick scan with her fingers, before wiping the area with a pad of alcohol. She pinched the skin of his calf, before reaching around with a prepped syringe. “Alright, hold still.” Hanzo didn’t flinch, but he did look away, as he felt the syringe pinch and push inside of him. True to her word, he did feel the discomfort that she described. There was a chill in his leg that seemed to penetrate down to the bone, and he felt his foot and ankle seize for a moment, before regaining feeling in them once more. As he looked down, he saw that she was cleaning the area with a white cotton-ball.

  “Okay, once that settles, I’ll begin the reduction, and move your patella back into place.” Hanzo nodded with a curt grunt, as she removed her gloves and began to jot down notes onto another holographic screen. She looked to her wrist as she typed for a moment, before minimizing the screen out of existence by bringing her two index fingers together from the corners of the screen, until they touched. Then she moved toward her sink and washed her hands again.

  “The lighting in here is strangely dim,” Hanzo pointed out, used to the glaring white light of the hospitals in Japan.

  “Oh! My apologies,” Mercy stated, before waving her hand. As she did, the light’s turned up to the oppressive brightness that he was more accustomed to. “Athena requires ample usage of the generator, so I try to conserve whenever possible. That, and I’m more accustomed to operating in the open now, rather than an office. But that was careless of me; I sincerely apologize.” There was no hint of dishonesty in her voice. Hanzo thought to continue the conversation, or maybe apologize himself, but the words didn’t materialize in his mind. Instead, he watched as Mercy slid her hands into a separate clean pair of gloves, and sat down once more on the stool in front of him. She set aside what looked like an oddly shaped white flashlight, before cupping both sides of his knee with gentle hands.

  “Alright, this is where it’s slipped out of place, but I’m going to verify,” she said, grabbing her tablet once more. She looked at the screen, showing that her left thumb was right at the outer ridge of his patella, not yet pushing it, but touching it. “Alright, perfect. Now I will begin the reduction. Try to hold still for me.” Hanzo nodded again, and watched as she grabbed the white flashlight. A white gold beam shined visibly from it, as particles gently flowed from it like snowflakes from winter skies. They trickled down toward his skin, while she pushed against the point of his knee, but he couldn’t feel her touch. In fact, he wouldn’t know that she was there if he hadn’t been staring at her as she worked!

  “I don’t feel anything,” he pointed out, as he watched her.

  “My first design of this technology-while faster in application-yielded results of pain and discomfort in the subjects that authorized my experimentation. I had to reduce the amplification of the previous formula, so that it wouldn’t happen. But I’m guiding your patella into place, so that your body does less work. If my thumb weren’t here, you would feel it.”

  “And you developed this yourself?” Mercy didn’t look up as he asked the question, instead maintaining focus on his knee.

  “Yes. Overwatch provided me with a safe and fully-funded environment with which to take my research and development to the next level. In return, I aided soldiers in swift and speedy physical recovery, before enlisting and joining as a combat medic. But at the time I wasn’t wise enough to take action in concealing my research, before it fell into the wrong hands.”

  “What do you mean?” She continued working on his knee, but proceeded to answer his question.

  “The process works by sending rapid signals back and forth between your brain and the point of injury. In truth, all I’m doing is accelerating and guiding what your body would have naturally done on its own. But this of course led to the realization that those signals could be confused and redirected, and that my technology could be weaponized. When Overwatch disbanded, I fought to conceal my work and prevent others from following down my path. But like the twenty-something fool that I was, I logged my personal data within our internal systems, and you can be certain that the data was backed up somewhere. It’s only a matter of time before it’s replicated.” Hanzo swallowed, now understanding Mercy’s hesitation from earlier. But before he could continue the conversation, she turned off the beam and set it aside, instead reaching into another drawer and tearing apart sealed packaging, to reveal a brace. “When you stand on your knee it will feel tightened, as if it were reinforced. That feeling is natural, and it will fade with the passing hours. During that time, I ask that you wear this in order to best facilitate natural healing. It is bio-degradable, so be sure to recycle that in the morning.”

  Just as she finished speaking, there was a pounding at the hatch door. “Do you mind?” Mercy asked, and Hanzo shook his head no. Mercy opened the hatch with a summoned hologram. Hanzo looked to the door to see who it was, chest tightening when he realized that it was none other than Genji. The cyborg stepped forward, before pausing, as he looked to his brother.

  “Hanzo.”

  “...Genji.”

  The silence lingered for a moment, before Genji continued. “I’d hoped to do this with a little more...ceremony but…this is Angela. She is my-“ Genji started, but Mercy stood up, interrupting him.

  “You’re free to go, Hanzo,” Mercy said, before snatching the gloves off of her hands, and tossing them freely into a nearby recycling bin. She walked right by Genji as if he weren’t there, and proceeded to leave the hatch. The cyborg looked to her and then back to Hanzo, before the hatch closed behind her. Hanzo opened his mouth slightly, before closing it again.

  "...And that was her angry walk. I should...go. I will catch up with you later.” Genji’s movement hitched in a delayed way, before he proceeded out of the medical bay after her. Hanzo heard him calling her name, before their voices were lost to the various corridors.                    

****************************************

  “What’d you do?”                  

  Hanzo already felt the presence approaching him, but he’d hoped that Cassidy would just keep moving. The smell of cigar smoke and an abundance of cheap cologne was a dead giveaway, so he didn’t look up to acknowledge the passing figure. But to his dismay, the cowboy wouldn’t pass without words. Hanzo only shook his head, before resuming his task.      

  Hanzo himself was scanning down one of the holographic screens, generated by Athena, with a shopping queue of all of the written works of Tekharta Mondatta, the leader of the Omnic Independence movement. He was debating on audio books for Mercy to listen to while she carried on with her day to day tasks, but then he wondered if she were the type to enjoy a book to be held in hand, and read in silence. There was so little he knew about her, and yet she stood his brother’s one true soulmate. For him, this was a strange phenomenon.

  “Judging by those clicking heels I heard earlier, I reckon someone’s touched the Doc’s last nerve. And by that guilty look on your face, I’m willing to bet I’ve found the culprit.” Hanzo paused and looked aside, all but confirming Cassidy’s theory. “S’alright. Happens once a week, if not every other day. Doc works with a lot of knuckleheads, if you can believe it.” Hanzo swallowed down a snort. “You’ve got the right idea. Just make sure you put some thought into it. Cash don’t impress her much, Shimada.”

  “My name is Hanzo,” he corrected, before bringing his fingers together to minimize the hologram tablet. He turned about at last, to see Cassidy leaning in the hatch frame of his open shuttle-door. He had the decency to put out his cigar for the time being, though he kept it in his mouth. Hanzo  shot him a disdainful scowl anyway.

  “He speaks,” Cassidy announced in a sarcastic way. He even lifted his eyebrows for the dramatic effect of staged shock.

  “I fail to see why this is any of your concern,” Hanzo countered, folding his arms over his chest.

  “I’m guessin’ Winston pitched you an offer here, on the team?”

  “I have not yet decided if I will accept his offer,” Hanzo stated, leaving no room for any misunderstanding.

  “But ‘chu still here. Listen Shimada-“ Cassidy began, before he was interrupted.

  “Hanzo,” he corrected once more.

  “Hanzo…maybe he didn’t clue you in up there in the control room, but the stuff we do here…it ain’t for fun. These are real missions that we go on. We bleed real blood when we get hit, and we take the lives of others with families.”

  “You insult me,” Hanzo all but snarled.

  “Come again?” Cassidy’s question was honest, but his southern drawl made it come off as playful, if not challenging.

  “You insinuate that I do not measure to the standards of Overwatch. I am every bit as capable as the members that I have seen. Despite my poor showing in the trials -which I have every intention to retake-you yourself confirmed that my skills were all but extraordinary. I resent the accusation that I cannot handle the same degree of combat in the real world,” Hanzo argued, immediately on the defensive.

  “Oh no, no one’s mockin’ yer skills, make no mistake. But you see the thing is…” Cassidy began, before pressing himself up and off of the door frame, standing to face Hanzo in full. “I don’t make it a habit of going into battle, with partners that I don’t know.” Hanzo swallowed, realizing the error in his temper. “Out there? I gotta trust you. And to trust you, I gotta know you, like I know my own self; that is, if we hope to survive. So…it may not be today, it may not be next week, but eventually you gon’ have to climb off that high horse of yours and have a glass with me.” It didn’t escape Hanzo’s observation that that statement wasn’t exactly a request. The anger faded from Hanzo’s face, but it wasn’t any less stern. Before the silence could become awkward, Cassidy continued. “And when you do? I’m just down the hall.” Cassidy stepped away, holding eye contact with Hanzo until the last moment, before lazily gliding out the doorway.

  Hanzo held back the eye roll that his instincts craved to act upon. Instead he hid it with a technique he developed in his youth, for the times when he’d outwitted his father; he closed his eyes, then rolled them, then glanced away to the right. He thought to resume his search when another figure approached his door. This one was quieter, but not quiet enough to evade his detection. He knew the stepping pattern anywhere, despite his own disbelief. But he had looked his brother in the eyes, and he was no longer able to deny what he had seen. Genji stood in the open doorway now, the same cyborg that he was when he left him last. The visor that shielded his eyes, shined with that same neon green light, just above the armor plating that covered his body. The tubes and coils protruded from the sides of his neck stretching down into the machinery over his chest; no doubt keeping the blood moving from his heart. He knew that he was fortunate to even be able to speak with his brother again. But the guilt welled within him all the same. “You came,” Genji said, finally sick of the silence between them.

  “You asked me to,” Hanzo replied, though the tone had traces of argument.

  “And since when does my brother do the things that I ask him to do?”

  “Normally I am the one that asks that question.” Genji snickered to himself at Hanzo’s reply, and Hanzo’s eyes widened to the sound. He’d last heard his brother’s laughter from the ghosts that haunted him on the nights when the sake wasn’t enough. But this was real. More still when Genji pressed the buttons on the sides of his visor, retracting the neon green light to show the browns of his eyes. The same eyes, the same shape, even the same eyebrows. But this was all that Hanzo could see of his face. His jaw remained guarded by the metal plating of his robotic suit, as did his forehead. Hanzo flinched, at the memory of what the dragons did to his brother’s face. But Genji also removed the scarf that he used to tie down his hair. And as It fell from his head, the same black spikey tuft that Hanzo recognized sprung forth from its constraints. There was no denying it any longer. His brother was alive.

  “To see you again…after thirteen years…” Hanzo began, but he couldn’t finish his statement. There was a lingering pause for a moment, but Genji broke the silence.

  “I didn’t know what I would do either. So much happened that night. I did not know how to feel…or if I even could feel.” The lingering silence came once more, before Hanzo replied.

  “She saved you.”

  “Angela is…incredible,” Genji confessed, in an earnest way. Hanzo could hear his heart with his words. “I didn’t expect to meet her that way, I must admit. But I suppose I have you to thank for that.” The dark humor didn’t escape Hanzo, but he still didn’t respond. Instead, he clenched his teeth and tightened his jaw, but Genji pressed on. “She was called to Japan at the time, to treat another patient in dire condition. She was in the hospital, right when I was brought in. Then she did what she always does…and saved my life.” Hanzo rolled his lips inward, and breathed deeply through his nose. Genji continued. “I am happy that you accepted my invitation to join Overwatch.”

  “I have accepted nothing,” Hanzo countered again, shooting a glance at his cyborg brother.

  “Then…why are you here?” The innocence was still in Genji’s voice, despite the feedback from the speaker in his mouthpiece. Hanzo turned to face his brother fully, letting his arms drop from his chest. His brown eyes widened as he pursed his lips, looking about for the answer to the simple question. Genji continued for him. “You mourned me. I watched you grieve for my death. There was a time when I was angry at you for what you had done.” Hanzo swallowed before looking directly into his brother’s eyes. “And then that anger turned to pity. Pity for the man who had killed his brother, and did not even relish in the prize of having him out of the way.”

  “I do not ask for your pity,” Hanzo replied, the usual growl back in place in his throat.

  “Don’t you? When you kneel before my altar every year, and bow your head before the weapon that you used to strike me down, don’t you ask for my forgiveness? Don’t you ask, that I look kindly upon you from the afterlife, in witness of how you suffer?” Genji folded his arms again over his chest, feeling the argument within himself begin to rise.

  “I honored you as a warrior, and a head of the family like those before us. I honored the fallen brother, who would have taken over the mantle of Shimada with me side by side, had we not been pit against one another. But I ask no one for pity. I stand with full knowledge of who I am, and the things that I have done.”

  “And yet, you still came here,” Genji countered once more. “Tell me, brother, is it difficult to stand, with all of that weight on your shoulders?” The wrinkle that formed atop the bridge of Hanzo’s nose meant that the conversation needed to end. But Genji pressed on. “As I stated in the letter that I wrote you, this is an opportunity for you to make a difference in your life, and the lives of everyone around you. Before the corruption, Overwatch was a force for good in this world. Winston hopes to make it so again. If you do not intend to stay, then do not keep him waiting.” Genji turned to walk out of the room, but Hanzo stopped him with a question.

  “Genji...How is it, that you describe me?” Genji turned to face him. “Your soulmate told me on the way here, that I am exactly as you have described me. How do you describe me to her?” Genji thought for a moment before responding.

  “I describe you as everything that a Shimada is supposed to be, and everything that I was not.” The lids of Hanzo’s eyes drooped downward in an earnest way. But they opened back wide again, as Genji continued. “If you intend to stay, you would do well not to anger her so frequently. Angela is the only practicing medic that we have on staff. Your life is in her hands at all times. Remember that.” Hanzo looked aside, before turning away from his brother and moving deeper into the corner of his shuttle.

  “And do you not care for my thoughts on her?”  

  “No,” Genji said plainly. “She had only met you for a moment, and yet I would have known who she was speaking of without any further proof. Another thing you should know brother; I have renounced the name Shimada. I move as my own man, and should we marry, I intend to take her last name. Neither she nor I require your approval.” Hanzo closed his lips tightly into a thin line, but Genji continued. “Decide brother, and do not delay.” As Genji walked away, the shuttle door promptly shut behind him. Hanzo pulled up another holographic screen before adding both the digital copies of Mondatta’s collection, and the hard copies into his own virtual shopping cart, and saving the total for later. With a flick of his wrist, the online shopping cart vanished from sight, and he turned away to prepare himself for the night.  

Chapter Text

Hanzo woke with the sunlight as he was accustomed, and readily stepped up from his futon. He took a moment to enjoy the silence of the morning while neatly folding his sheets back into place, and gathering the supplies that he needed into one of the small complimentary bags that he had in his drawer. Despite the elegance with which his room was decorated, he discovered yesterday that it did not come with a shower. He would have to use the communal.

  Fortunately he had already forced himself through the experience once before, in a moment of indulgence after a particularly troubling mission in Singapore. The onsen required that he be completely clean, before he could experience the purifying waters. Still, he knew that it would be best to have the shower to himself if he could help it, to avoid another pointless conversation. He could tolerate their frivolity in the midday, but the morning silence was his and his alone.

  Having gathered everything he needed, he zipped his bag shut before sliding his feet into a pair of slippers for the hallways. Athena opened the hatch door upon his approach without him needing to ask. The door closed behind him as he made his way down the hallways guideless, remembering the direction from the previous day. There was a stillness that indicated that he was alone, despite the light in the halls. He followed the twists and turns in his mind, until he approached the men’s communal bathroom.

  He took a moment to relieve himself, before flushing the toilet and washing his hands. Then, he made his way to the lockers, reading the names across the screens of those that were taken, until he found one that was unclaimed and out of the way. He looked about for some way to open the locker, but there was no handle. He paused for a moment and sighed through his nose. “Athena.”

  “Yes, Hanzo?” He took small discomfort in hearing the feminine voice in the area, but quickly reconciled with himself.

  “How do I access this locker? I need to store my belongings.”

  “Press your hand against the digital screen in front of you. The locker will scan your finger prints and palm pattern, and then it will open automatically. Once opened, you may place your belongings inside, and as you walk away the door will seal itself shut. Once shut, it cannot be reopened unless you press your palm to it once more.” Hanzo’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he did as instructed.

  Just as she said, the door opened on its own and he proceeded to disrobe and store his belongings in the locker. He left only his shower shoes, a towel, the soap, and the shampoo that he needed, and quickly covered himself as he turned to walk away. He heard the door close behind him as he made his way to the showers, pausing outside of them to hang his towel on the rack just to the side of the dry entrance floor.

  He chose a shower not far from the entrance and set his soaps on the shelves beneath the shower head. After assessing the angle of the shower head, he stepped aside and turned the water on using the nozzle before him; the only thing that he’d seen so far that wasn’t high-tech. The water took a moment to reach the temperature that he preferred, but once it warmed it was steady. Hanzo appreciated the change from his apartment, letting his wrist hit the water to test it first before stepping under.

  He let the water cascade down his chest as he approached, before dipping his head beneath the free-fall and giving himself over into the moment. With his eyes closed, he turned about to make sure that every part of his body was soaking wet, moving his head from side to side so that the water touched every inch of his neck. He lingered just for a moment, and then he opened his eyes while reaching for his soap, taking a generous portion and lathering his hands and arms.

  From here it was automatic; arms, shoulders, chest, face, and then working his way downward. The soap glided effortlessly over him until he stepped back into the water, washing it away. The grime from sleep floated away into the drain and out of his sight and mind. He followed up with shampoo, taking the time to massage it into his scalp, and then dipping his head back under for another cleanse.

  He stayed there for the moment underneath the weight of the water. But the threat of his skin pruning in revolt made him stop, and he craned his neck back before turning off the shower water. But now that his ears were freed from the sound of his own shower, he realized that he wasn’t alone. Another shower had been turned on.

  He gathered his soap and shampoo quickly and turned to leave. The discipline of his upbringing shielded him from the desire to turn and see who had joined him in the room, and he marched out of the shower entirely, grabbing his towel and covering himself. The flat soles of his slippers dragged now, with the added weight of the absorbed water, and he did his best to quiet his steps as he moved back to his locker. It only took him a moment to dry before he pressed his palm to the screen once more, snatching the new day’s clothes and dressing quickly to cover his shame.

  Now that he was clothed, he calmed himself before gathering the rest of his belongings from the locker. He left it empty, hearing the door close behind him as he made his way to the sinks and mirrors. He stepped in front of the mirror, pulling out his tooth brush and wetting the bristles with the water before squeezing on a thin line of toothpaste to brush his teeth.

  With his left hand he held his loose hair back, while he brushed with the right. He was sure to scrub through all of the crevices of his mouth, before spitting and rinsing. He proceeded to awkwardly bend to set his toothbrush back into its case, and then decided that his hair needed to leave his face immediately. He felt his wrist to search for a hair-tie, but his wrist was bare. He clapped the wrist of his other hand, feeling that it was bare as well. He looked about for a moment, sighing through his nose in frustration.

  “Here.”

  Hanzo turned to see Cassidy was standing to his side. At a glance, he was sure that Cassidy was showing far too much skin, but he atleast had the modesty to keep his towel in place, regardless of the fact that he was dripping water everywhere. “You left this in the shower.” Hanzo looked to Cassidy’s outstretched hand which held his hair-tie, pinched between the side of his index finger and the flat of his thumb. Hanzo took the hair-tie, but his eyes lingered for a moment.

  Most people take care to cover their wrists in modesty; this was expected in Japan. It was an inevitability that people would see each other’s soulmate marks at some point, but customarily the display of them in the open is frowned upon. Everyone that he’d met before hid their wrists in some way, be it with long sleeves or a wrist band of some sort. But Cole Cassidy left his wrist bare, aside from the arm hairs that could have acted as a natural form of camouflage. And to Hanzo’s surprise...his wrist was blank.

  “…Thank you,” Hanzo said, taking the hair-tye and nimbly tying his pony-tail at the back of his scalp. He gathered the items that he had at the sink and turned to leave, before hearing Cassidy’s distant ‘no problem’ fade out into the background as he left the bathroom. Once he was clear of the area, he slowed in pace as he made his way back to his personal chamber. The door opened again upon his arrival, and he set his things aside again for the moment to prepare a pot of tea.

  He thought to himself as he sifted through his things, putting them back into their proper places. But now that everything was sorted and the tea still wasn’t ready, he had no choice but to give in to his own curiousity. “Athena,” Hanzo called, and the screens in his chambers lit up with her moniker.

  “Yes, Hanzo?”

  “Show me Cassidy’s profile.” Upon command, a holographic screen came up before him with the profile, like those that he’d seen before of Winston and his brother.

  “Agent O-43, Cole Cassidy. A former member of the notorious Deadlock Gang, Cole Cassidy and his partners were brought to justice during an Overwatch sting operation. Commander Reyes, seeing his potential, offered him the opportunity to work off his jail sentencing as a member of the private Blackwatch sub-division. He remained a team member until Overwatch disbanded.” Hanzo’s eyes scanned through Cassidy’s input data and statistics, remarking silently to himself that he and Genji were in the same sub-division, before finding his date of birth.

  Cassidy was only a year younger, at age thirty-seven. Thirty-seven years without a soulmate mark was rare, at least in Hanzo’s experience. He’d thought himself alone before now. On a whim, he swallowed before asking Athena for another profile. “Show me Angela Ziegler.”

  “Agent S-39, Mercy. Dr. Angela Ziegler. A prodigy in the fields of science and medicine, Dr. Ziegler quickly rose to the head of surgery at the Hirslanden Swiss hospital, before being recruited for the Overwatch initiative. Her advances in nanobiology have allowed for the hastened healing of life threatening injuries and illnesses. Ever the advocate for peace, Dr. Ziegler fights for a world in which fighting is no longer necessary.”

  Hanzo couldn’t help but remark at how horribly that camera captured her likeness. Mercy, though an annoyance upon their first meeting, was remarkably beautiful in motion. But photogenic was not a word that he would use to describe his brother’s soulmate. The picture paid her no respect. She shared Cassidy’s age of thirty-seven; two years older than his brother.

  The whistle on his tea began to blow, signifying that it was time to remove the pot. He jumped to his feet, cutting across the floor and pouring himself an unsweetened cup, smelling the blend before taking a tentative sip. The herbal remedy helped him to focus, as it always had. He began to weigh the positives and the negatives in his mind, remaining in deliberation while sipping his brew.

  But when he felt a twinge in his stomach, he knew that he had come to the answer that he was searching for. He paused, taking a deep breath and setting his cup aside, as he moved to the hatch doors. They parted automatically at his exit, and he again decided to test his memory, moving along without Athena’s guidelines. He made it outside of the main control room, before approaching. The doors opened automatically and he stepped through.

  He berated himself for his foolishness, upon realizing that the room was empty. The morning was still new, and Winston was probably taking advantage of the opportunity to sleep. Instead, he looked about for the moment, observing the collections of data in the room.

  There were mathematic equations written on and off of the glass board of the room. Some even painted the otherwise dull walls. Some books lay open and astray, but all of them had been annotated and stuffed with decorative and organized sticky notes, no doubt for quick reference. In general the room was neat and clean, but it had just enough of a haphazard lay about to make it seem personal to the Gorilla. And were it not for the giant tire-swing in the center of the room, Hanzo remarked to himself that he could come to admire the room in time.

  It took him a moment to follow the equations on the wall, but he eventually came to the realization that Winston was working out a system in the ideal of perpetual energy. The equations were not finished, but from what he could gage, they were correct. He backed away, making his way to the central computer that usually held Winston’s attention.

  To his left, he saw a board akin to those used in investigations. He looked at the names of those on the board, and paused at the familiar sights of Hana Song, and Lúcio, two celebrities heavily advertised on the Japanese subway systems. According to Winston’s notes, Hana operated under the code name D.Va, and was recruited into the South Korean military as the principal pilot for the MEKA armored drones. Meanwhile, Lúcio has been leading the rebellion against the Vishkar gentrification of poor areas in Brazil.

  He heard Winston’s voice in his mind, reminding him that Overwatch was originally composed of the best that the world had to offer, in the fields of science, medicine, and engineering. Brilliant minds, and capable warriors alike united together, in search of utopia. Trying to make the world into what it could be, rather than accepting it for the way that it is.

  He turned when he heard the hatchet doors open, and quickly distanced himself from the board, moving so that he was in sight. Winston lumbered his way into the room, wiping the sleep from his eyes with an enormous yawn, before fumbling for his glasses. After adjusting them into place, he blinked and shook his face when his vision cleared to the sight of the archer in his study.

  “Oh, Hanzo! Good Morning! Apologies, I didn’t see you there without my glasses.” Winston smiled and moved closer.

  “I would like to become a member of Overwatch. If you will have me, I will contribute toward the movement, and aid however I can.” Winston paused for a moment at Hanzo’s words, before his smile spread across the width of his face.

  “That’s…this is excellent news!” The ape began to move forward, gathering several of his resources, and powering up his main computer system. “This is wonderful! After your showing yesterday in the training room, all that I could think of were the uses that your arrows would be to the team! Your aim is remarkable, and in combination with stealth you could make a real difference in covert operations.” Hanzo watched in awe as the gorilla hopped around and gathered his resources. He began to form a pile, which Hanzo came to realize as his own soon-to-be entrance paperwork.

  “Hanzo, er….before I get ahead of myself, I should caution you. We’re…in recovery. Overwatch isn’t nearly what it was in the past. I’ve been able to recruit a few of the former members, but…I just want you to know that what you’re joining will be a small band of individuals; united for the original purpose, but without the original political interference.”

  “I understand,” Hanzo said, facing the gorilla he would soon have to recognize as a leader.

  “Futhermore…the things that we do…the trials that we face….what I mean to say is….I cannot guarantee your safety. There will be times when we are called to fight.”

  “I am aware. I am ready,” Hanzo pushed on, while looking Winston in the eye. The Gorilla only smiled back, trying and failing to remain professional. Winston organized the papers and booklets that he gathered, and gave them to Hanzo before turning once more.

  “If you could, I need you to fill that out to the best of your ability. Please feel free to ask Athena for any assistance required. She has the process streamlined, so while that stack might be intimidating, it’s actually much smaller than you think.

  “Thank you,” Hanzo said, with a customary bow. His eyes widened when he saw that the Gorilla bowed deeper, in gratitude.

  “No, thank you. Please, let me know if you need anything. I’m always here.” Hanzo stood upright and turned away, shuffling out of the laboratory with haste. There were times when Winston seemed so human. And then there were times were Hanzo, former head of the Shimada Yakuza and peerless archer, remembered that he was talking to a gorilla.

  He clutched the paperwork to his side and paused to regain his bearings, before making his way back to his chambers. But as he walked, he heard a familiar laughter coming from what he deduced to be the common room. He decided to peer in, just to put a face to the sound. Sitting on the couch was Mercy, drinking a cup of coffee with his brother, resting gently at his side. They smiled to each other, taking comfort in whispered conversation. And in the reflection of the TV, Hanzo could see his brother’s smile. A smile that he thought he would never see again.

  He stole this moment from them selfishly, for a minute longer. It was a treasure to watch his brother exist so happily, and freely; even more so than he did in his youth. The feelings that welled within him forced him to linger in confusion. Some negative, some positive, but all were disorganized and a flutter. But there was one thing that would have been clear, if anyone was there to bear witness.

  ...Hanzo was smiling. 

Chapter Text

Though he had been tested for the vast majority of his life, the stack of papers that Winston asked of him proved to be his toughest opponent yet. Not only due to the sheer volume of sheets, but for the questions that he needed to answer. So much information needed to be gleaned from him, in order to become a member of Overwatch. Information that he would never have shared as the former head of the Shimada.

  He battled against the will forged into his muscles, defying years of training to answer these questions. He wrote just far enough into the truth to satisfy the answer, while keeping the criminal intricacies of his former life hidden. It was a labor that proved more daunting with each question that followed. But the worst part of it was that he was not granted the opportunity to suffer in silence.

  He didn’t know what it was that threw the members of Overwatch into such a frenzy, but from the miscellaneous chatter that he loathed to pick apart, he’d assessed that a few former agents had come aboard the Gibraltar. He hadn’t deigned to make their acquaintance, deciding instead to meet them when strictly necessary. But two of his soon-to-be teammates decided that the hallway outside of his hatch was the best place on the shuttle to work out their differences, much to his malcontent.

  First there was a sharp walking pace, followed by an all-but-screeching halt. The walls were too thick to allow for precision quoting, but he was certain of a few things. One of the two was named Fareeha, and considering the pitch of her voice, she was much younger than whoever it was she was talking to. The other was only addressed as ‘Captain,’ in what sounded like spite.  

  The Captain sounded as if they were pleading with Fareeha for something, while Fareeha simply asked for ‘permission to leave.’ He knew little of what was discussed, but it was enough to make him no longer take interest in the paperwork required of him. Instead, he set the papers aside for now, making himself another cup of tea so that he might resume after a break. But the nagging sensation tugged at his mind, and he found himself opening another of Athena’s many data reserves.

  “Athena, show me Fareeha.”

  “Agent 0-52, Pharah. The head of Security for the Helix corporation.” The profile yielded no further information, save for a picture of a person in their armor. He’d assumed Fareeha female, from the voice that he heard in the hallway. But the picture before him was of a strong soldier in cybernetic armor and a headgear that concealed their face. He also took a glance at their height. Whoever they were, they were certainly taller than him.

  He thought about searching for ‘Captain’ for a brief moment, before calling himself an idiot in his own privacy, and throwing the hologram window off into obscurity. Instead, he watched the pot of his tea for the time, snatching it away before it could come to a whistle, and pouring himself a hot cup. He took a moment to smell the flavors of his brew first, letting the aroma bring clarity to his mind before settling back onto the task before him.

 ***************************

   “Already?” The astonishment woven into Winston’s voice brought Hanzo some small measure of accomplishment. He refused to let it slip through his expression however, simply giving a curt nod.

  “Provided that this is all that you need to know of me, the answers that you seek are there.” In response to Hanzo’s statement, Winston blinked in rapid succession, before his eyes widened far enough to convey the genuine nature of his shock. He glanced over the first couple of pages, as he shuffled in his simian way to the computer, leaving Hanzo in place for the time. He watched as Winston’s large hands, guided the paper through the mouth of a slit in his computer. The documents were scanned and spit out, one by one. “May I ask what will become of this?”

  “We will have to conduct a background check, simply to verify that the information that you have provided is genuine. Once I have this approved, I will have you tested on the field.” At the end of his statement, Winston pushed up the glasses that slid down the bridge of his nose. Hanzo could feel himself taking too much comfort with the subtle tick.

  “And that is all?”

  “In the past, there would have been several assessments, followed by a board meeting, a few interviews, and necessary character recommendations. But we are short handed, and technically Overwatch isn’t in operation any longer. What we do here is…charity work. A service to the people.” Despite Winston’s eloquent evasion of the truth, the hidden meaning of his words did not escape Hanzo’s detection. This resurgence of his wasn’t exactly legal.

  “And this field test? Am I allowed to know the parameters? What is expected of me, in order to qualify as a member of Overwatch?”

  “Forgive me, Hanzo, but this will be answered shortly. It only takes Athena moments to cross reference your answers with verifiable data. In the meantime, may I ask that you report to medical?” Winston turned away but still peered over his shoulder as he asked the question, eyes flickering between Hanzo, and Athena’s progress.

  “I am to be treated again? My knee feels fine.”

  “Oh, I am sure. But this is a requirement from the squad leader of your field mission.” Hanzo swallowed in secrecy. The thought of working on a team already touched the delicate structure of his nerves. Being subordinate to Mercy would only make the experience more arduous. Still, he did as he was born and bred to do. He nodded his head, and suffered in silence.

  “Very well.”

  “Thank you!”

**********************

  Once again in the medical bay, he couldn’t help but to toy with his knee. He kicked it back and forth on the table, still amazed that he felt no trace of his injury. It was tighter than a drum, and moved with a renewed vigor. The wrath of age had crept along the rest of his body, but his knee felt almost new.

  He remarked that she certainly took her sweet time, but when Mercy arrived at the hatch, she seemed to be doing the exact opposite of what he expected. First, she immediately turned the lights to full brightness. Then she disappeared into the backroom. He listened as she shuffled about, pulling drawers and opening and slamming cabinets. She was in a hurry.

  In a few minutes she came out front, eyes darting around the room, looking at anything other than Hanzo. He shot her a perplexed glance, which she caught, but looked away, giving the room one last survey, before closing her bag and turning again for the door. But it opened on its own, and through it stepped an older woman.

  She reminded Hanzo of his grandmother. Her beauty remained, but withered with age. The long locks of her hair had powdered white and grey through the passing years, with dried strands woven tight into a braid that sloped along her shoulder and dangled over her chest. She wore a black sweater, and grey slacks, but her posture gave way to the tone in her muscular structure. And the eye patch over her right eye only magnified the expression that peered through the left.

  Hanzo watched as Mercy and the elderly woman remained frozen for the moment. But then Mercy swallowed, and continued forward. He heard the elderly woman say “Angela….” but Mercy walked right by her, towering over her in both height and indignation, and left the room with what he now recognized to be her ‘signature angry walk.’

  The elderly woman held still for only a moment longer, before moving over toward Hanzo. “Forgive me. I’m sorry that you had to see that.” She spoke as she moved over to the sink, rolling up her sleeves and washing her hands, before drying them with a paper towel. “But trust me, my reappearance in these hallways has been announced with all of decoration that it deserves.”

  Hanzo studied the woman as she moved about the room, summoning a holographic screen and quickly typing onto it. He turned, hearing a space on the wall slide open. It hadn’t appeared to be a cupboard, but then he deduced that that was precisely the point. She was hiding something in this room, and Mercy had probably come to find it. “Don’t bother telling Angela. That hiding place will be changed the minute you leave this room. She’ll forgive me in time.”

  “I had no intention. I am only here at Winston’s instruction,” he said, watching her move over to the now open space in the wall. She pulled open a long rectangular brief case, easily three quarters her body length, before setting it on the floor. Despite her age, she squatted to the ground with a nimble ease, popping the latches of her case, before opening it. He looked inside, seeing a large sniper rifle. He tensed automatically.

  “Winston’s instruction,” she mocked in a sort of disbelief. As she stood, he noticed that she held a glass cylinder, filled with the same glowing light that he’d observed from Mercy’s white flashlight that fixed his knee. His brows inched closer in confusion, as he looked between her and the cylinder. “I never thought I would see the day that Winston would lead Overwatch. But perhaps this much power shouldn’t be left in the hands of man.”

  She set the cylinder aside, before reaching into the drawer for a clean syringe. She opened its packaging before asking “do you have a preferred vein?”

  “Why are you asking?” Hanzo had tired of the mystery. She owed him answers.

  “I thought that Winston would have filled you in, I’m sorry. I am Captain Ana Amari. Well…ex-captain, now,” she explained, setting the syringe aside, and standing to look him in the eye. “I served as the second in command of the first Overwatch Initiative, as a sniper and field commander.” Hanzo’s eyes widened as the memories came back to him. He remembered seeing her poster as a youth in Tokyo. She had been called Egypt’s protector for a time.

  “You…were announced dead, just before the fall of Overwatch. There was a ceremony held in your memory that was televised across the planet. I was at the airport when I saw it.” But as Hanzo spoke, he knew that she was telling the truth. Her white hair was once jet black, and the wrinkles in her skin had given her a disguise, but the Wedjat tattoo on her functioning eye was the exact same. He was speaking to a living legend.

  “Mr. Shimada, I need you to understand that while my actions have caused grief, they were necessary at the time. I faked my death and continued the fight in secret.” Her lips tightened as she spoke. There was more to that story, but she didn’t seem ready or willing to tell it. “Though, I didn’t cover my tracks well enough. Both Overwatch and Talon caught on to my trail, and both sent units to detain me. Fortunately, Overwatch found me first.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you need my blood,” Hanzo continued, though she clearly meant him no harm. She kept her hands folded neatly in front of her as she spoke. She didn’t have the same sort of relaxing aura that Mercy had. There was more steel to her, than silk. She needed to find other ways to make her patients feel at ease.

  “I am going to be your field commander on your next mission. Before you is a prototype of Dr. Ziegler’s nanobiotic healing formula. I use it on the field to heal my allies, and to attack my enemies. But your blood must be introduced to the formula in a controlled environment, so that the nanites know to heal you, rather than to attack you.”

  Hanzo looked at her warily, but she continued. “It may sound strange Mr. Shimada, but I assure you that Dr. Ziegler’s formula is full proof. Perhaps you require a demonstration?” He shook his head no, having already seen Mercy’s work in action.

  “How do you use it in the field?” As he asked the question, she knelt down into her briefcase once more, before pulling out a small syringe-like dart, barely the size of a bullet. It held the same glow as the formula.

  “My rifle does not fire bullets, but rather these; small doses of the formula. As long as I hit my mark, the dart will puncture the skin and quickly inject the serum. Within seconds your wounds are healed. But if your blood has not been introduced to the serum, the nanites will weaken and possibly kill the target instead.

  Hanzo realized that this had been exactly what Mercy had spoke to him about, during their last session together. Her fear of having her research weaponized had come true, and by her Captain no-less. He suddenly understood her anger. “Why are you hiding this from Dr. Ziegler?”

  She paused for the moment, pursing her lips the way that only a woman can, before looking back up to him to respond. “She is aware that I have her prototype. And when this gun was created, she openly and adamantly opposed it, it’s true. But someone made the weapon anyway, and managed to sneak it beyond these walls. I found it on the black market during my time of hiding, and initially I had every intention of honoring her wishes and destroying it, and any other of its copies.”

  She removed her gloves, tossing them into the trash, before continuing. “But as I came to understand the gun, and its mechanics, I realized that I could use it for what it was originally intended; an immediate application of medical aid.” Her face became far more serious as she spoke. “I will not lie to you, Mr. Shimada. I have blood on my hands. I have sent hundreds of mother’s sons to their graves in the service of my country, and of Overwatch. But the accumulating deaths began to weigh on my soul, once I had a daughter of my own.”

  Hanzo made the connection. She was the one in the hallway earlier. The one only referred to as ‘Captain,’ by Fareeha. “This weapon gives me a means to keep those that I love alive, while joining them in the fight. And now I can do so, without killing and crippling my enemies; men and women, who like ourselves are simply following orders. Angela may hate me for it now, but in time she will see that her genius has done more good than harm.”

  Yet even as the words sunk in, Hanzo felt uneasy about what was transpiring. He had only been a member of Overwatch for little more than a day, and already there was conflict within the organization. Still, he needed to prove himself capable on the field, and this was the task before him. With a slow exhale, he rolled up his right sleeve and clenching his fist while flexing, to expose the veins on his forearms before holding his arm out.

  “Thank you, Mr. Shimada,” Ana croaked, as she prepared him for the injection. She didn’t have the same gentle tenderness of Mercy’s touch, he remarked, as he certainly felt the needle piercing his skin. But the process was clean and controlled.

  “Please, call me Hanzo.”

  “Hanzo,” She corrected, removing the blood sample, and turning the dial on her own vial of Mercy’s nanite-formula. The light inside turned blue, as the floating particles drastically slowed. He watched, as Ana carefully injected his blood sample into the formula. The sanguine liquid flowed through the blue base, like the ink of a rorschack test, as the nanites clumped together, bonding with it. As he watched, the color of his blood in the vial, turned from red, to a dark purple, and then finally blue to match the light. “There,” Ana said, giving the vial a turn, before resetting the dial. The golden hue shined bright once more, as the nanites floated back to life.

  “How long will it be, before the mission begins?” Hanzo watched as Ana took one of the darts, and filled it with a sample of the new formula, before loading it into her sidearm. She placed the safety back onto the pistol, before setting it aside.

 “Approximately three days. The Commander and I are newly reacquainted with Overwatch you see. We need time before we’re deployed into the field again. I need you to hold still for me. This will hurt,” Ana instructed, before reaching for a scalpel. Hanzo watched her, as she grabbed his arm gently, positioning the blade to make an incision. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded. She lightly pressed against his skin, but the scalpel was sharpened to perfection. It tore through the top layer of his flesh like a seam ripper, and despite his best efforts he flinched. He remarked that she hadn’t cut deep, but the blood still dripped freely from his arm. Then she reached over for her side arm, removing the safety, and loading it, before firing.

  He heard the snap of the gun go off, and then he saw that the dart landed neatly into the back of his hand. There was a small pinch, and then it was over. Ana walked over to him, removing the dart, and wiping the incision clean. To his astonishment, his skin had already mended itself back into place, as if she’d never cut him. He couldn’t even see the scar.

  “Excellent,” Ana said, finally removing her gloves and washing her hands. Hanzo watched as she put away her supplies, setting it into her briefcase, before making notes onto a holographic screen. “Thank you Hanzo. If you have no further questions, you’re free to go.”

  Hanzo scooched himself off of the operating table, rolling his feet silently as they touched the floor, before rising, and towering over the elderly woman. He ran a finger over the spot on his hand where he’d just been shot, looking for the tear in his flesh, but there was none. It had healed too. “You said that you came here with a Commander?” She turned to look to him, as she sealed the latch on her steel briefcase, and lifted it off of the table. “Commander Morrison? Is he alive then, too?”

  She snickered, before walking by him, toward the hatch leading out to the hallway. “You’ll find that old soldiers are hard to kill.” Hanzo watched her walk out of the room, and then looked at his hand once more. 

************************

   “There was a distress call in Rio de Janiero,” Winston annouced, as he summoned a holographic screen, and made several copies of the report that he was reading. He pushed them all out so that everyone in the briefing room had a hologram of their own. Hanzo kept his eyes on his copy, quickly reading through the notes on the slab. On the profile before him, there was a digitized map of Brazil, and a specific blinking pointer in Rio de Janiero. He used his fingers to scroll down the information packet as Winston addressed himself, Ana, and Cassidy in the briefing room. The three days had gone by, and it was time for Hanzo’s field mission. 

  “It was a message from Lúcio Correia Dos Santos. You may or may not have heard of him recently in the news, due to his resistance movement in Brazil. He’s been in several conflicts with the growing Vishkar mega-corporation,” Winston rattled off as he turned to pull up an even larger diagram on the main screen.

  “The news paints Lúcio like some kind of anarchist,” Cassidy added, and Hanzo shot him an irritated glance for interrupting. To his dismay, the cowboy continued. “They say he’s been takin’ out the Vishkar with some sort of geurilla tactics; no pun intended Winston.” Hanzo failed to prevent his eyes from rolling.

  “Officially, Lúcio’s activities against the Vishkar are in a state of political mayhem. Through his music and presence on social media, he’s an adamant opponent of their development in impoverished areas. Many of the locals hold up his sigil when they protest in the streets. Authorities believe Lúcio to be the mastermind behind the attacks against the Vishkar, but as it stands they have no proof,” Winston explained, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose.

  “That is...other than this message that you received from him?” As Ana asked her question, she took a sip of her tea, and scrolled down the holographic screen. “Why are we interceding with this, rather than handing it over to the proper authorities?”

   “This has yet to be corroborated, but in his message, Lucio states that the Vishkar have used…unsavory tactics to make their service seem immediately necessary. He obtained intel from an undisclosed source that the Vishkar used an explosive in India, detonating it in an area that they’d appealed to before, in pursuits of expedited purchase and refurbishment. After the explosive went off, the appeal of the Vishkar’s security and protection wore down those who resisted their expansion in the area. He believes that they mean to do it again.”

  “So they’re expanding in the Rio? Why is it that nobody likes these guys?” Hanzo listened to Cassidy’s question, and turned to Winston for the answer. But it was Ana who spoke.

  “In the notes, you mention that while the Vishkar vocally claim that they mean to improve upon the living conditions of those in the area, many are left displaced from the homes that they once owned…” She read, eyes scanning over the holographic screen.

  “This much, while hard to uncover, is fact. They’ve been targetting low income areas and slums, with the promise of improving their way of life. But once they obtain control of the area, prices are increased, and the standard of living is elevated to the point where the area becomes a utopia. And a costly one to maintain.”                                                                                                                          

  “And I’m guessin’ the people that can’t pay the rent are fresh outta luck?” Cassidy leaned forward as he asked his question, and Hanzo looked to Winston for the answer. The gorilla made a very telling face, before responding.

  “Officially, the Vishkar are doing everything in their power-“ Winston prattled off mockingly, but Cassidy caught on, and interuptted.

  “Riiight. Gotcha.” The sarcasm hadn’t been lost on anyone in the room.

  “The explosion in India-do you have the record? How many casualties?” As Ana posed her question, Winston summoned a keyboard from the holographic light. His ape-ish fingers clicked across the translucent keys, and then another screen appeared, showing a dated news report of an explosion in the Dharavi slum in India.

  “According to this news report, twenty seven dead, with over fifty injured.” As Winston answered, Hanzo looked to Ana whose lip thinned at the response. She took another sip of her tea before setting her cup down, and dismissing her file.

  “What are the mission parameters?” Ana asked, giving Winston her undivded attention.

  “We cannot risk any exposure to the public. If word gets out that Overwatch is reforming, we will be set upon by the united nations. While I believe this is worth looking into, it must be done without stirring public unrest. Your mission is to infiltrate the Vishkar, and see if you locate any proof of a bomb. If you do, then we will proceed from there.”

  “And if there is no bomb?” Cassidy asked, as he took another puff of his cigar. Hanzo still hadn’t gotten past the stench.

  “Then evacuate. We cannot interfere with the Vishkar’s development, no matter how we may feel about it. They’re within their legal rights, so long as any aggression is financial rather than explosive. As you both already know, Captain Amari will take point in this mission. Hanzo, this is especially important for you, as she will be evaluating your performance, and most importantly your ability to collaborate with the team. Are you certain that you feel up to the challenge?”

  As Winston asked, Ana and Cassidy turned to glance at Hanzo. He only nodded in response, before dismissing his information hologram, and inching forward to the edge of his seat. He quietly cleared his throat before asking “when do we leave?”

  “The shuttle will leave at midnight. It’s a ten hour flight, after which you’ll be able to rest at a hotel, booked under an alias provided in your information pamphlet. When night falls, you begin the infiltration. Any further questions?” The three looked between one another, before looking back to Winston.

  “No,” Ana stated.

  “Then it’s settled. Good luck, and be safe.”

Chapter Text

      Were it any other man, the thought of infiltrating the Vishkar corporation would have been the source of their fear. The guards were likely to be armed, and at least somewhat capable of defending themselves. That, and if they were captured, they would face retribution from the law. He could be charged with vigilante activity on a national level, and once exposed, the Shimada would certainly come to finish him in his cell. But that wasn’t what bothered Hanzo.

     The Overwatch shuttle simply didn’t make sense. He had done the math time and time again in his head. Even with the propellors and jets, the shape and weight of the vehicle was much too large to be able to fly through the sky. Yet like the bumblebee, it flew in spite of the laws of nature. But he refused to allow either Ana or Cassidy to see him tremble, steeling his nerves with the vice grip that he employed on the arm rests of his seat.

     He looked to his field commander, Ana, whose eyes were trained on the glass window to the hatch door.  He’d managed to tune out Athena’s voice, counting down the time until lift-off as he shamelessly stared at the elderly woman. He could see from the distance that her eyes were trained on whom he’d since learned was her daughter, Pharah; the mysterious ‘Fareeha’ from the other day. Their eyes were locked for a brief moment, and then Pharah turned away with a sort of sharpness that he likened both to the military, and a furious woman.

     Ana only looked down with a slow blink. The rest of her was still, like an untouched bed-sheet. Cassidy on the other hand moved about in the corner of Hanzo’s eye. He needed to continually puff his cigar to keep the light going, which meant that he was shifting and switching the cigar between his hands. It was enough to distract Hanzo just until the turbulence of lift off began to shake the shuttle. If he continued to squeeze the arm-rest that way, the metal would surely crack.

     But again, the laws of physics defied the might of his fear, and the shuttle sifted into the sky. When Athena gave the ‘all-clear,’ Ana and Cassidy immediately unclipped their seatbelts, and set about on their own agenda’s. Ana moved over to the mini-kitchen, putting on a pot of tea. To Hanzo’s nose, it smelled like a hibiscus blend, but she was using something else to offset the tartness of the tea. He couldn’t precisely tell the ingredient, what with the cigar stench crowding the vicinity. But despite the irritation on Hanzo’s face, Cassidy smoked in indifference of the company he kept.

     “It’s an honor to work with you again, Ma’am,” Cassidy drawled. From the reflection in the window, Hanzo saw Ana wave him off.

     “You always were a charmer,” she snorted in reply. Hanzo was still buckled safely into his seat, but he could hear her mixing her own cup of tea, from the sounds of the spoon against the porcelain. “You know, you’re the only one who hasn’t asked me anything.”

     “Minding m’own business happens to be both easy, and free.” There was a smoothness to that reply that Hanzo wished he didn’t admire.

     “Wise words, of course. But I owed everyone an explanation, and I’m ready whenever you are.”

     “Ma’am if you don’t mind me saying, I already know enough about you to know you had your reasons. But if you’ll allow me to be frank, I’m sure you already know the question that I have,” Cassidy said, with an earnest sort of look that caught Hanzo’s attention. Ana paused for a moment, but then she replied.  

     “Jack said that when he came to, Gabriel wasn’t there. What that means for now, I’m not sure. But I promise that when I find out, I will let you know.”

     “Court adjourned,” Cole replied, with a curt head nod, and Ana snickered.

     “Thank you, Cole,” she replied, before stepping around the seating area, where Hanzo remained. When she came into Hanzo’s line of vision, she held in her hands an elegant tea cup, with a matching saucer. “Would you join me for a cup?”

     Hanzo reached out, taking the cup and saucer from her, remembering the discipline with which he was raised. “Thank you,” Hanzo remarked, before raising the glass to his lips. He’d mastered the poker face necessary to stomach tea that hadn’t been brewed to his own satisfaction, for the sake of social grace. In truth, not even his servants could blend a proper mix, and when he’d grown old enough to command them without restraint, he made it a point to mix his own cups. But after he swallowed, he licked his lips with a slight surprise.

     “This is exquisite,” Hanzo honestly remarked, and Ana smiled with a satisfied pride. He remarked to himself that the sweetener was slightly over-powering, but only a touch. In truth, it had been a delicious mix; one that he could drink warm or cold. To him, the blend was a rarity.

     “Karkadé. I drink it whenever I fly. It helps to calm my nerves,” she said, but he caught her meaning. Despite his efforts, she was aware of his fear. He defiantly unbuckled his seat belt, before taking another still sip. The flavor was just as rich the second time. “I’d offer you a glass Cassidy, but last I checked, you take your tea with Whiskey?”

     “Heh, s’been a while since I even bothered with the tea. Doc says I have to cut back on my intake.”

     “At your age, she’s probably right,” Ana quipped, moving back into her own seat. Hanzo watched as her age betrayed her appearance only momentarily. She had to ease into the chair, the way that someone her age was supposed to. He knew that he was accompanying a living legend, but could she really still fight on the field? He’d pieced together enough from the briefing to know why this team was assembled; three sharp shooters meant for a quiet and stealthy mission. But he’d learned the hard way that a sniper still needed to be able to fight up close, if they needed to. She could once. Could she still?

     She took a sip of her own tea, before pulling up her digital file on the mission briefing. As her fingers swiped left and right through the pages, she paused for a moment at a picture of Lucio. “I haven’t heard any of his music. Is he any good?”

     “Plays more club-stuff than anything. He’ll put a spin on an older song every now and then, but it’s not the same. D.va swears by it though,” Cassidy responded, and Ana raised her eyebrows.

     “The video-game girl, turned mech-pilot, right?”

     “That’d be her. Winston managed to talk her into joining Overwatch, so she’s one of us now. Sounds crazy, I know, but wait ‘til you see her in the sky.”

     “Crazy and I are old friends now. These days, nothing surprises me for long.” And after that, the flight carried on in relative silence. Ana conducted her research, using the holograms to scout out the area via the provided satellite images. She kept another tab open, looking into and researching the previous claims and incidents that seemed to haunt the favela like an omen.

     It was only after Hanzo had walked over to the sink, and properly cleaned his tea cup that he realized that he’d stood up on a flying vehicle. And even as he realized it, the notion only bothered him in his mind. But as he dwelled upon it, he remembered his fear, and calmly made his way back to his seat. The silence was comforting to him, but there was a part of him that hoped that Ana and Cassidy would converse a little longer, if only to glean more information from them.

     He would be disappointed. It would only be a matter of time before Cassidy kicked up his feet, and tipped his hat over his eyes. In a few minutes, Cassidy’s hands folded over his own mid-section, and Hanzo heard a soft snoring. Ana remained awake, but entranced with her studies for the time. And so Hanzo took the time to meditate, so that he would be both rested and prepared for the mission. 

 ************************

     “Listen, if there’s anyone out there at all on this server, please, we could really use some help! I have it on good authority that the Vishkar are planning on detonating an explosive in three days in Rio de Janiero, so they can speed up their renovation project. There are innocent people out here, just trying to live their lives like anyone else! Please, if you can hear me, send help!”

     Hanzo watched the video clip on the hologram screen over Ana’s shoulder. He stood behind his squad captain, and beside Cole Cassidy, on a rooftop several blocks away from the Vishkar construction site, listening as a child’s voice called out to Lúcio before the young dj turned off the recording. Ana held out two ear pieces, distributing one to Hanzo and the other to Cassidy, before clipping in her own and switching on the power.

     “This is a test. Can everyone hear me?” Hanzo followed Ana’s lead, and responded to her question via the ear piece. Despite the night breeze that flittered through the wiring of the microphone, he could hear their voices with little to no static interference, and his response came back in matching clarity.

     “I can hear you,” Hanzo replied, with a nod.

     “Ten-four,” Cassidy concurred, shifting in place and taking another puff of his cigar.

     “Stand by. I’m patching us through to Winston,” Ana announced, before pulling out another com-device. She held out what looked to be a plain rectangular battery pack between the three of them, but left her thumb on what Hanzo recognized as a button to synchronize. Once all three of their com-devices blinked in agreement, Ana ejected the inner workings of the device, revealing it to be a radio. The technology was dated, but it was state of the art. This way, their communications would be far more difficult to trace.

     “Horus to Mission Control; do you copy?” Hanzo only had a moment to reflect on Ana’s use of the Egyptian deity as her call sign, before he heard Winston’s now familiar voice in his ear.

     “Copy that captain. You’re coming through loud and clear: over,” Winston replied. As the two conversed, Hanzo turned about, making sure that their location was yet unknown out of habit. The lack of street lights in the village was effective, both for star gazing and for concealing their location. His eyes adjusted on the way, and from what he could see, they remained hidden.

     “Do we have a trace on the original communications signal?”

     “We have secured a safe pathway, but we cannot use it yet. Not until we have confirmation that the Vishkar do have explosives on site: over,” Winston instructed, and Ana pressed her fingers to her ear to respond.

     “Affirmative. Have the mission parameters changed at all?” The three stood together silently, waiting for Winston’s reply.

     “Negative. The objective remains the same: over.”

     “Copy that. Beginning mission. I will check in once I have more information: over and out.”

     “Roger that. And all of you…please, be careful out there.” Ana removed her fingers from the communication device before snickering to herself.

     “He is adorable, isn’t he?” She asked, setting down the large steel briefcase that Hanzo recognized from the medical bay. She quickly unclipped the top latches, before gently opening the case and removing her sniper rifle from the indented spacing of the luggage. Hanzo watched, as she began to load several micro-syringes into her cartridges, keeping them between her fingers for separation, as she pulled back the latch door.

     “I dunno, I kinda like it. S’better than the tough love you and the commander used to dish out,” Cassidy quipped back, while mimicking her. To Hanzo’s horror, the cowboy removed what appeared to be a six-shot revolver from his side holster. It looked to be older than even Ana, and despite what he’d deduced to be Cassidy’s attempt at upkeep, Hanzo could see that the revolver had seen its fair share of use. But the most terrifying part, was how Hanzo waited patiently for Cassidy to reveal another fire-arm….

….and he didn’t.

     “Oh, Cole! I didn’t realize you still needed your mommy to hold your hand and tuck you in at night,” Ana mocked, and then pulled the loading latch close, before clicking the safety back on to her sniper rifle. While the humor wasn’t lost to Hanzo, he reflected to himself that if Cassidy truly were looking for a maternal figure, he wouldn’t find one in Captain Amari.

     “Joke’s on you. Someone’s not getting a mother’s day card this year,” Cassidy teased, and Ana faked a wounded heart in response, before turning to face the two of them frontally.

     “Alright the time for jokes is over. You heard Winston a moment ago; the mission parameters haven’t changed. That means that we will proceed forward in phases. The first phase, is reconnaissance. We have to determine first if the Vishkar truly does have an explosive hidden in the nearby vicinity, and if so, where it is. Should we find that there is one, we will proceed with the next phase of the mission. If there isn’t, then we evacuate. Understood?” As Ana asked, Hanzo nodded, and Cassidy replied.

     “Yes Ma’am.”

     “I’m going to move for cover. I’ll be in that building over there,” Ana said as she pointed at one of the few buildings tall enough to offer a decent vantage point. It was alarmingly far, even for a sniper rifle. Hanzo knew that Ana’s ability to shoot from uncanny distances had years of evidence logged in testimony. But he also knew that that was when she had both of her eyes. “Under no circumstances are you to come to that building, unless I give the order. Is that clear?”

     “Crystal,” Cassidy replied. Hanzo simply nodded again.

     “From the map that Winston gave us, the safest entry point is from the east. I want you both to make it there and take separate cover. Wait for my signal, and then proceed forward. Is that clear?”

     “Understood,” Cassidy replied, and yet again, Hanzo only nodded.

     “You have your orders,” Ana replied, before turning to close and lift her now empty briefcase. “Move out,” Ana ordered, before turning to walk away. She only gave herself a few more walking steps, before pausing to brace herself, and starting into a cold sprint. Hanzo watched as she ran to the edge of the building they stood on, before leaping over to the next roof top. He suddenly felt a twinge of embarrassment, for limping the other day on his knee, before having it fixed.

     It was Cassidy who snapped him out of his trance. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. S’like I said earlier; she ain’t altogether human. Got some genetic work done to make herself the perfect soldier. Reyes and Morrison did too.” Hanzo couldn’t tell if he felt more comforted or offended that Cassidy had just read his mind. He didn’t bother to ponder the situation for a second longer. “You ready for this?”

     Hanzo didn’t reply, and instead walked right by Cassidy, before mimicking Ana. He heard the cowboy mutter something under his breath as he broke into his own brisk run, leaping over to the next building. His childhood tutelage in stealth insured that his leap from roof-top to roof-top was silent, as he kept his eyes alert, darting from side to side in search of anyone who might see him. With no sight of enemy interference, he continued to leap and bound over to the destination.

     He listened behind him for the sound of Cassidy keeping pace, but when he heard no echoing footsteps, he paused, and took a knee. Surveying the surroundings, he saw no sign of the cowboy, and heard nothing that couldn’t be explained away as typical slum night life. After what felt like another fifteen seconds of searching, he continued on, making more leaps down the favela slope, toward the inner city circle, where the Vishkar construction site was.

     He wouldn’t find Cassidy again until he was within line of sight of the location. The cowboy simply stepped out of the taxi-cab that he apparently rented, and lit another cigar before blowing out the smoke and walking leisurely toward their destination. To his credit, he hadn’t tipped off any of the security guards that Hanzo could see, but the fact that Cassidy showed even less urgency than Genji was troubling. He could feel the stress and anxiety welling within him, even as he forced himself to breathe through the annoyance.

     Ana’s voice came over their ear pieces again. “Alright. Maneuver into position. When I give the all clear, I want you both to advance. Hanzo you’ll take the higher levels. Cassidy, you’ll have to journey down to the basement,” Ana instructed. In the feedback from the ear-piece, Hanzo could hear the faint clicks of her rifle.

    “Copy that,” Cassidy replied, and Hanzo pressed his own ear piece to reply.

    “Understood,” he said, before tumbling along behind a car, and breaking into a brisk run. He used the nearby vehicles as camouflage, while looking to spot other cameras nearby, doing his best to stay out of their lens span. His tactics carried him along, until he was flat against the outer gate of the Vishkar complex. He looked across to see Cassidy taking the other side of the gate, his pistol at the ready as he leaned against the wall.

     The two looked to each other briefly, before looking away, waiting for Ana’s signal. But Hanzo’s shoulders hiked when he heard a thud on the other side of the wall, and he sent a puzzled look to his squad partner. Cassidy however didn’t flinch, still patiently waiting until the last moment to put out his cigar. At last, Ana’s voice came over their ear-pieces again.

     “Advance.”

     Cassidy smashed his cigar against the wall, before shoving it into his pocket. He span around the wall, coming through the open clearing with his pistol raised, as he turned tactically. Hanzo followed suit, climbing up and over the wall with a small running start. Once he cleared the height, he leapt down and immediately took in his surroundings.

     There were cameras, but the lenses had been shot out with pellets. They hung disabled and useless, clearly no longer in operation. But what held his attention further, were the bodies that appeared near lifeless on the open ground. But upon further inspection, he noticed that they were all sleeping, with tiny darts protruding from their necks. He recognized the material from Ana’s briefcase, and then he realized that it had been she who disabled the outside forces. More terrifying still was her accuracy; she’d managed to land the darts right in the guard’s neck veins, even from that distance.

     “Here,” Cassidy yelled, and Hanzo looked up in time to see that the cowboy had tossed him what he assumed to be a Vishkar security pass. He caught it, deducing that his squad partner had looted it from one of the now sleeping security guards. With a curt spin Cassidy moved onward, and Hanzo followed him in. It only took them moments-once inside of the headquarters-to find their respective directions.

     Splitting away, Hanzo proceeded down the hallway past the unmanned front desk. Familiar with the technology, he held his security card up to the black sensor that was mounted on the wall. When the light on the device shined green, he proceeded, carefully pushing open the spotless glass door to make his way to the next floor. Ana’s voice came over his ear-piece again, as he crept up the fire exit stairs.

     “I’ll do my best to call out shots from here. For now, you’ve moved from my field of sight Hanzo. Cassidy, I have my eye on your area; you’re clear.” Hanzo didn’t bother replying to this one, instead diverting his attention to making his way up the stairs as silently as possible. Once he’d reached the next floor, he used the security pass again, and listened for the unlocking click of the steel door before pulling it open and sliding through.

     The hallway was empty, but to his left there were large open glass windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. He disliked that he was exposed to the outside, but again the cover of night made him difficult to see. Still, he pressed his back to the solid wall, hugging it tightly as he advanced down the hallway, eyes warily looking for security cameras. From what he could see, the coast was clear, but his ears heard footsteps coming down the next turn.

     “Hanzo, your immediate left,” came Ana’s voice, but he had already snapped into action. In two bounds he was upon the guard, quickly throwing his bow around the man’s neck. He pulled back against the bow, constricting the security guard’s wind pipe, causing him to choke. The young guard struggled for a few seconds longer, before the fight left his eyes, and his body fell limp against Hanzo’s. When he was sure the guard was unconscious, he laid him on the ground and carried on.

     “There’s a camera around the next corner Hanzo. Cassidy, you have a security guard coming down the elevator behind you,” Ana called out. Hanzo pressed his back flat against the wall, looking in the reflection of the glass. True to Ana’s words, there was a white security camera perched securely down the next hallway. He figured out the trajectory of his shot, in order to take down the camera without appearing in its scope. Quickly triple-checking his geometry, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and fired the shot, successfully destroying the camera.

     Once the coast was clear, he made his way down the hallway, over to the next corridor. This time he couldn’t hear anything, but Ana made a call that the next passage had two more security guards, talking to each other as they continued on. He waited until he could feel their steps vibrating against the floor. Once he’d mapped out their position in relation to his own, he pounced.

     He disabled the first with a swift kick. The force of the strike knocked the man back against the wall, as his weapon flailed from his arms, and his head bounced forward from the rapid impact. But the second security guard had managed to draw a weapon; a pistol which fired concentrated light. Hanzo barely managed to dodge the blast, before sweeping the guards leg with another kick, and catching him in a strangle-hold grapple.

     He turned to make sure that the first guard was unconscious for good measure, before proceeding. From there, there were only a few more security cameras to disable. He made sure to give the area one last solid sweep before checking in.  

     “All clear,” Hanzo reported, pressing the ear piece lodge in his inner lobes.

     “Confirmed. I see no other guards. Hanzo, do you have any way of gathering intel in your area?” Hearing Ana’s question, Hanzo turned about. The area was flooded with computers and desks, but there was nothing that genuinely seemed to contain any relevant information. As he looked about, he saw business models for improvement, and handling escalated customer situations. There was an employee recognition board as well, but nothing that signified any sign of an explosive.

     “Checking,” Hanzo remarked, before improvising. He took a seat at one of the nearest cubicles, turning on the now sleeping computer. There was a momentary pause, before he was faced with the welcome screen, and then blocked by a password prompt. His specialty had been stealth related combat; not computer hacking. “I cannot breach this. There is a password required.

     “Open one of the windows to your left,” Ana instructed. Hanzo paused for a brief moment, before obeying the order. He snatched a tissue from another nearby desk, using it to fumble with the window latch without leaving fingerprints. Once the latch was disabled, he opened the window. “Take a step to your right,” Ana said, and he obeyed. In a flash, a capsule landed at his feet. He assumed that Ana had fired it in.

     “Be very careful. That capsule contains the algorithm for Athena’s matrix. You must be certain to bring it back with you. Is that clear?” Hanzo broke the capsule, seeing that she’d fired in the rough equivalent of a USB drive.

     “Understood,” Hanzo replied moving back over to his computer. He found the open slot for the drive towards the back of the computer, and slipped the device into place, before peeking back over to the screen. Athena began to work without prompt, disabling the Vishkar security, before granting Hanzo access to the main computer. “I’m in,” Hanzo reported, before snatching two more tissues and laying them over the keyboard and mouse.

     Fortunately for him, he was familiar enough with the Vishkar’s operating system to navigate its files. While searching, he kept a wary eye out for enemy action, but he remained alone and undisturbed. But as he surfed and filtered, he began to realize that whatever information was stored in this computer was meant for the common eye. No matter how thoroughly he searched, there was no information on any bomb.

     “Hanzo, status?” Ana asked the question over the intercom, and he sighed through his nose. He resented having nothing to report.

    “Negative. There’s nothing here,” Hanzo replied, but then he heard Cassidy pitch in.

     “I need back-up down here!” Cassidy reported, and Hanzo snatched the drive from the back of the drive. He quickly unplugged the computer, and then plugged it back in, before snatching the tissues and shoving them into his pockets. His eyes scanned the room for the fire exit, and when he found it he dashed over, pushing open the door and vaulting over the stair railings.

     When he reached the ground floor he looked about. Ana’s voice came over the intercom. “Hanzo, down the hall, and to your right.” He ran over, covering his corners, before pushing in the door. He expected Cassidy to be facing enemy action. Instead, the cowboy was hunched over a large desk, scanning through a computer of his own.

     "Status report?” Ana asked. Hanzo looked to Cassidy to reply.

     “Looks like the kid was right; the intel was correct,” Cassidy replied, and Hanzo’s eyes widened. He moved over to the other side of the desk, so that he could see what Cassidy was seeing. Cassidy pulled four windows, each of them showing different areas of the favela, under Vishkar surveillance. “Four of ‘em. And they’re timed to detonate tonight.”

     Hanzo swallowed at the sight. There was a clock on each of the video recordings; all four of them perfectly synchronized. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut, his brain already figuring out the obvious; There were only three of them, and four bombs to disable. Not to mention, he didn’t know the first thing about disabling an explosive.

     “How much time do we have until detonation?” Ana asked over the intercoms. Hanzo let Cassidy answer.

     “Forty-two minutes, and counting.”

     “Then we don’t have time to check in with Winston. I’m assuming sole command from this point forward. Our next course of action is to evacuate the Favela. Cassidy do you have coordinates?” Hearing Ana’s question, Cassidy began typing away the computer. Hanzo barely had time to acknowledge his shock that the American was capable of such feats, before a holographic screen appeared in front of him.

     “Forwarded,” Cassidy replied, and the men waited for Ana’s instructions.

    “Alright. I will secure the northern most point. Cassidy, I want you to take the one in the western quadrant, and then report back to the construction site for surveillance.”

    “Ten-four,” Cassidy acknowledged, already jogging away from the office area.

     “Hanzo, take the eastern quadrant, and then report back to me. If we have time, we’ll send you to the southern quadrant,” Ana instructed, and Hanzo nodded to himself.

     “Understood.”

     “Move out,” Ana called, and with that, Hanzo sprinted out of the office after Cassidy. He vaulted his way up the stairs with long lunges, before pushing the door open, looking to his wrist watch for the time. The nerves that whirled within him propelled him faster as they always had. He learned long ago to turn convert his anxiety into raw energy.

     Clearing the office, he sprinted from the Vishkar construction headquarters, before vaulting up and over the outer gate once more. The holographic screen pinpointed for him the explosive’s exact vicinity as he sprinted, nimbly climbing up to take the high ground before leaping from his vantage point and landing on a slum rooftop. No longer concerned with stealth, Hanzo sprinted across the roofs, and leapt with all of his weight, desperately propelling himself forward through the night air.

     With every leap and bound, he drew closer to te bomb, but the watch on his wrist was unforgiving. Ten minutes had already passed since his time at the Vishkar headquarters. He felt his nerves swell again, even as he closed the distance to the explosive, recognizing the area from the video recording. He only paused briefly, looking about for the nearest residence, before pounding loudly on the door.

     “Evacuate the area! There is a bomb threat! This is not a drill; contact the authorities,” He called out. He repeated himself from building to building, causing enough noise to disturb several residents before resulting to flare arrows into the open sky. The citizens began to rally to him, as the streets soon became flooded with civilians, desperately grabbing their loved ones and prized possessions. They flooded through the open pathways in the night in utter confusion and panic, but Hanzo stayed to make sure that they fled opposite the direction of the bomb.

     Seeing that the Rio de Janiero police force were arriving on the scene, he took a moment to flee himself, finding safe cover before reporting in.

     “Hanzo checking in. The eastern quadrant has been successfully evacuated. Shall I proceed to the next quadrant?” As he asked, he checked his watch, in relation to the map. He could make it, but he needed to leave immediately.

     “Affirmative. The authorities are aware of the situation. Just do what you can, but get out of there before detonation,” Ana instructed, but from the corner of his eye, Hanzo saw movement. A reflection in a street puddle showed a man staring directly down at him from an adjacent rooftop. Hanzo slowly drew an arrow from his quiver, before spinning around and loosing it at his target.

     “Stop!” The arrow hit its mark, landing neatly into the fold of the target’s left pant-leg, pinning his ankle to the floor. As the figure turned to run, the cloth of his pants snagged, causing a staggering hitch to his movement, as Hanzo scaled the wall after him. The man made a split second decision, panicking as he yanked his pant-leg, freeing himself from Hanzo’s arrow. But as he turned to run, he caught a brief glimpse of Hanzo leaping up after him.

     Hanzo gave chase, gaining on the man whom he now realized worked for the Vishkar, judging from the logo on his belt satchel. He’d almost closed the distance before the man made a desperate leap off of the rooftop, and onto another one nearby. Hanzo leapt after him, but when he landed on the panel it shattered beneath their combined weight, causing both of them to plummet through the roof, landing on the floor!

     The building was abandoned, save for the cockroaches that skittered away at the sound of intruders. But there was no cushion to soften the blow that Hanzo’s legs took upon impact. The Vishkar grunt faired better, landing instead on his hands, and the balls of his feet. But as he went to dash for the door, Hanzo shot an arrow over the grunt’s shoulder, the force of the shot going through the door, and carrying it closed.

     Trapped, the Vishkar grunt turned to face Hanzo, like a cornered cat. He drew a pistol from his side, firing a blast of concentrated light in the form of a laser. The shot barely missed Hanzo, who dashed forward to close the distance. He would use his melee skills instead, now that the distance between them was no longer in his favor.

     With an upward strike, he managed to knock away the man’s hand, who in response fired his light blaster at the wall. Hanzo closed his open fingers around the man’s wrist, twisting it against the grunt’s form, making him yell in agony. Having no choice, the grunt dropped his light blaster, and Hanzo kicked it to the side, well out of their reach. But while he was distracted, the Vishkar grunt gave Hanzo a swift kick to the abdomen.

     Hanzo backed away, recovering after having the wind knocked out of his diaphragm. He’d managed to find his footing just in time, as the Vishkar grunt made a mad dash toward him, telegraphing a right hook. Hanzo ducked, letting the grunt’s punch go clean over his head, before reaching up and catching his arm. His next movement was swift, but precise, placing his upside-down palm flat on the grunt’s belly. Then, with the strength of his legs he lifted himself and the grunt upward, using the grunt’s momentum against him as he flipped him. The grunt landed flat on his back, and heaved from the impact.

     Hanzo moved around the grunt as he struggled to recover from the impact of the flip. He stood over him, placing the ball of his foot on the Vishkar grunt’s sternum to hold him in place as he quickly knocked an arrow, drawing it back to let the man know that their game was over. The Vishkar grunt panicked, looking from the metallic point of Hanzo’s arrow up to the browns of his eyes.

    “Deactivate the last bomb,” Hanzo commanded, pulling back on the bow to augment his threat. The grunt threw his hands up over his face and began to panic. Hanzo could recognize that he was speaking Hindi, but he hadn’t yet learned to wield the language. But he recognized the look in his eyes as a universal sign. This man was just going to his job. He had no idea what Hanzo was talking about!

     Realizing at once that the man had seen too much, Hanzo swallowed before delivering a swift blow to the Vishkar grunt’s head, knocking him unconscious. He stepped off of him, staggering for a moment as he let his shoulders relax, but then he tensed again hearing his ear-piece fire up.

     “Hanzo, are you in position? Status report now!” Had Ana been talking to him the entire time? He hadn’t noticed during the fight. He stole a glance at the time on his wrist. Only seventeen minutes on the clock! He pressed his fingers to the ear-piece before speaking.

     “No, I’m on my way,” he replied, before running for the door.

     “You won’t make it in time. Stand down,” Ana commanded, and Hanzo staggered for a moment. He looked at the time again, feeling his heart race.

     “I can make it,” He reasserted over the coms, running forward before climbing over another rooftop.

     “Stand down. That’s an order,” Ana repeated, but Hanzo ignored her. This had been his fault. He would have been there on time had he not chased down a dead end. He needed to save these people. He couldn’t just let them die!

     He vaulted from roof-top to roof-top, running as fast as he possibly could. His legs raced against the clock, as he pushed himself to the limit of his physical capability, the world around him blurring as his eyes focused onto what was directly in front of him. Out of roof-tops to leap to, he leapt from his last platform before dashing on the favela pavement, recognizing the area from the video feed that Cassidy had uncovered earlier.

     As he rushed ahead, he looked about for some way to alert the town at large. But there were no bells that he could shoot, no alarms that he could trigger. He couldn’t even find a fire hydrant to disrupt, not that it would have the desired effect. But he needed something to gather everyone’s attention. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears!

     “Shimada take cover!” Hanzo looked to his right just in time to see Cassidy barreling toward him. The cowboy had both arms outstretched, grabbing Hanzo and spinning so that he slammed him up against a wall. Hanzo felt his vision blur as he slipped out of consciousness for the moment, feeling his back and head hit the wall from the slam. But then a deafening explosion flooded the area and Hanzo’s disorientation claimed him.

     He fell to the floor, vision blurred as his lungs collapsed inside of him. From what little clarity he had left, he could see Cassidy hunched forward, and crawling across the ground. He’d snatched off his serape and tossed it aside as he writhed in pain, and everything around them was on fire! 

     .....He failed...!

Chapter Text

A cold splash of water to the face made Hanzo sit upright. He yelled, unaccustomed to the harsh awakening, and immediately reached for his bow. He found it at his side and calmed down when he realized that he wasn’t in harm’s way. Or at least...not yet.

     “How many fingers am I holding up?” Ana asked the question while clearly displaying three fingers. He looked from her hand to the surroundings. They were still on the outskirts of the Favela. He could see fire trucks in the distance putting out the flames of the explosion, and his heart plummeted inside of his chest. “Hanzo!” Ana barked, and he snapped out of his trance.  

     “Three.”

     “Are you experiencing any pain? Is your head throbbing? Can you stand?” He pondered her question for a moment. His arms and legs ached from fatigue, and he could feel the bruise on his back from where he’d been shoved up against the wall, but other than that he was  fine. His legs complained as he moved to stand, clenching his fists and curling his toes for good measure. Every inch of him was in operation.

     “No,” he replied.

     Ana looked him over once more, trying to find the lie in his response. When she was satisfied, she said “watch him,” before pointing and turning away. He followed the direction of her point, seeing that she had gestured to the unconscious Cassidy, who sat propped up against a wall. The remains of his serape were draped over him like a blanket, but Hanzo could still see the burn marks on the fabric.

     Though his complexion had blackened with minor discoloration, the burning had not reached Cassidy’s skin. Or if it had, it must have been healed with a dose of Mercy’s formula from Ana’s rifle. Either way, Cassidy hadn’t suffered any damage to his flesh-arm. At a glance, Hanzo could see that he was breathing, and that comforted him. He remembered how Cassidy had just saved his life seconds ago.

     Minutes ago, he corrected, looking at the time. He crouched down before sitting on his knees, pulling back the sleeve of Cassidy’s shirt. Again he remarked how the man had no soulmate mark as he felt for his pulse. The pace was normal. He simply wasn’t conscious.

     “Hey, thank you all again,” Hanzo turned at the familiar yet unfamiliar voice. He’d heard it before on the hologram projector, but there was a weight to it in person. He recognized Lúcio as he skated over to Ana and himself, dreadlocks swaying back and forth even as he stopped. The neon lights of his outfit shined bright in the dark night, and the green of it reminded him of his brother. Ana put away her hologram tablet in order to address him directly. “You saved all these people!”

     “It was your actions that called us here, Lúcio. And your intel was correct; the Vishkar were directly involved in a bomb threat,” Ana explained. “And if it weren’t for your immediate response to my distress signal, we wouldn’t have been able to clear the last quadrant.”

     “I’m just glad to know there’s still good people out there. These days our cries for help go straight to voicemail, especially if it’s about the Vishkar. And you can bet they’re gonna make it look like they had nothin’ to do with this,” Lúcio replied. 

     “Not if we can help it,” Ana said, as she tossed a USB drive over to Lúcio. “Taken from the hard-drive of one of the Vishkar computers. Make a copy, then hand one over to the authorities-anonymously. And to one that you trust if you can. The other needs to go directly to the press. We have it on good authority that the Vishkar’s political connections are vastly outreaching. They may bury this, but if we can get the conversation started-“

     “...Then we can make a difference,” Lúcio finished for her, and she nodded. “Aw, that’s wassup! This helps so much, I can’t thank you enough!”

     “You helped me save my boy. Call us even,” Ana replied, and Hanzo understood that she was talking about Cassidy. He deduced that the two of them must have pulled them from the area, both of them smaller and shorter than the pair of men. He took a sharp breath through his nose, experiencing simultaneous guilt and embarrassment. “Lúcio...the press may villainize you as an anarchist, but I’ve seen who you are first hand. Would you be interested in joining us?” Hanzo’s eye’s widened as he looked between the two of them.

     “Who’s us?” As Lucio asked the question, Ana threw him a chip with what they all recognized as the former Overwatch emblem.

     “A group of people like yourself, fighting for what we believe in.” Lúcio clutched the chip in his hand, holding it to his chest before responding.

     “Whaaaaaat? No way! Overwatch? Yo, are you serious right now? Like...dead ass? This is...! I’m….” Lúcio began, but Hanzo saw the light fade from his eyes, as he looked past Ana, at the crowds of people, desperate for guidance in their next move. “...I’m flattered ma’am...really! But…I can’t leave. These people…I’m all they got…” he explained with a disheartened shrug.“Thanks again for answering the distress signal but…if you were here to recruit me, I gotta turn you down.”

     “Hah,” Ana laughed with a smirk. “I’m not used to the offer being refused, I must admit. But I admire you, Lúcio. This Favela is in great hands, if you’re at the wheel.” Lúcio smiled in response to Ana’s words. “The authorities are handling crowd control so you’re all clear. But you must do exactly as I instructed.”

     “I will,” Lúcio said, holding out the Overwatch chip for Ana to take back.

     “Keep it. If you need help, you have it,” Ana said. “Be careful.”

     “Thank you,” Lúcio said, nodding to her and then to Hanzo, before skating off on his roller blades. Ana watched him roll off, surveying the area once more before turning back and pulling out the radio communicator from earlier. Hanzo no longer had his communicator in his ear, but he had surmised that she was talking to Winston, and calling for the shuttle. He waited until after the communication device was put away, before approaching.

     “Shall I carry him?” He asked, and Ana shook her head.

     “He hasn’t woken up yet. Any longer and we’re going to have to consider a different approach,” she said, moving back over to assess Cassidy’s physical state. The tension was awkward, and Hanzo could feel in his stomach that he had done something wrong.

     “...I am sorry,” he confessed, the silence cutting into him. It was strange, how he felt like a child again. It was as if he had done something to displease his mother, and now she was giving him the silent treatment. No doubt waiting for him to punish himself so that she wouldn’t have to.

     “You should be,” Ana said pointedly, and his lips thinned across his face. “You disobeyed a direct order from your field commander, the result of which endangered both yourself and your fellow operative. I am not sure how hierarchy worked in your organization Hanzo, but my orders are in fact orders. Not suggestions.”

     Hanzo felt the shame wash over him. He had failed his first mission by making a rookie’s mistake. He searched his brain, trying to retrace his steps and reevaluate his thought pattern. But no matter how he repositioned himself in his mind’s eye, he knew that his own actions had caused Cassidy harm.

     “Nngh…” Cassidy groaned, as he leaned his head up. “Feels like I got hit by a truck,” he mumbled, looking at his ruined serape and singed shirt sleeves.

     “I’ve seen worse,” Ana quipped, before shining a light into his eyes. Hanzo stepped back, giving her room to work on him and make sure that he was in form. It seemed-from where he stood-that Mercy’s formula had done the trick. These routine checks were probably just a safety precaution. Apart from his ruined clothing, Cassidy looked and acted like his normal self.

     In time the cowboy rose from the ground, gathering his belongings and double checking his pistol. When he had Ana’s seal of approval, he walked behind her as they made their way together back to the shuttle.

********************** 

     Hanzo laid still, with his back flat against the futon in his bedroom. He kept one knee up, while the other leg laid lazily outstretched as he stared up at the ceilings. After three attempts at meditation he had given up, choosing instead to face the tortures of his mind. He critiqued himself without tire, letting the thoughts of ‘what he could have done better’ circle in his mind until the cycle competed itself and began again.

     The ride home had been quiet, with only minor discourse between Ana and Cassidy. The trio arrived back to Spain around midnight. Ana called ahead to Winston, giving him a brief rundown of the mission’s events. She was to provide her full report in the morning after a night’s rest. She led the trio to the entrance of the Gibraltar, before parting ways and retiring to her own chambers.

     But Cassidy had been injured in the line of duty, and at both Ana and Mercy’s insistence, he was to be brought to the medical bay upon his return. The cowboy made slight protest aboard the shuttle, insisting that he was fine apart from needing a new shirt.  But Ana only humored him for three minutes and then the request became an order.

     Mercy had been waiting for them when they arrived, dressed in her usual white lab-coat. She had a cup of coffee for herself in one hand, while she reviewed Cassidy’s medical file with her free hand, scrolling up and down the dossier. When Cassidy stepped up, she turned away immediately and he trailed in after her as if this were routine for the two of them. Their shoes clopped against the metal floors of the shuttle, as they marched wordlessly to the medical bay.  Hanzo paused at the door, watching them walk away before deciding to return to his own chambers.

     And now here he laid, staring at the ceiling and searching for redemption, for what he thought might be the last time. He had failed on his first mission, disobeyed a direct order, and his actions put another teammate in danger. He only briefly tried to defend himself in his mind, posing the counter-argument of why Cassidy had even come that way at all? But it was a position that he couldn’t defend; he knew the truth. If Cassidy hadn’t pulled him out of the way of that explosion, it would be him in the medical bay.

     Now that his back had tired of this position, he shifted, sitting up-right and cross-legged on his futon and staring out the window at the night sky. He couldn’t make out anything in particular, because of the station lights blinding out the stars. But he wasn’t trying to. He was simply searching for a resting place to lay his eyes, before he retreated back into his own consciousness to torment himself further. He settled on an uninteresting drain pipe far across the outdoor walkway, giving him a stationary target to focus on while he contemplated his own self-loathing.

     But he only made it halfway through his own disparaging lecture, when he heard a knock outside of his door. It startled him, shaking him from his lamentation, in exchange for panic. His time on the run from the Shimada-clan had taught him to always keep an ear open for enemy action. If this were an assassin, he would never have heard them coming. Another subject to berate himself over, after he answered the door.

     Hanzo stretched his leg outward into a wide open split, before gently placing the ball of his foot on the ground, and then pressing down with force. He stood without sound, like that cats the he studied in his youth to perfect his stealth. His eyes quickly scanned the room for a weapon out of habit, finding his bow well within arm’s reach. But a synthetic voice crept under the crack of his door.

     “Are you still awake?” It was Genji. Hanzo sighed, only taking a slight comfort at not hearing his brother earlier. He moved across the room and opened the hatch, watching as the mechanical door slid out of sight. Genji stood before him, though his usual tuft of hair had been shoved into a slouchy beanie-hat. He wore a long sleeved grey-shirt that hid most of his cybernetic body, and plain green pajama bottoms that spilled over his slippers. Were it not for his cybernetic jawline, Hanzo remarked to himself that he would have appeared fully human. “May I come in?”

     Hanzo turned away without word, going back to sit on his own futon but leaving the door open so that Genji understood that he could enter. He listened as his brother took his slippers off at the door, before stepping in and closing the hatchet door behind him. Genji turned on the light but kept it dim so as not to hurt either of their eyes, as Hanzo reclaimed his position against the wall. They stayed together in silence for a moment until Hanzo became uncomfortable, and looked up to his brother.

     “What are you doing here?”

     “Checking on you,” Genji replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall opposite his brother’s futon. “I figured that you would be in here driving yourself insane. Was I wrong?”

     “Tch,” Hanzo scoffed, looking away as he grabbed one of his own pillows. It bothered him that Genji had already heard of his failure. Word of the mission report must have quickly circulated the scarecely populated base. He fussed with the stitching of the pillow, finding a loose seam and wrapping it around his finger so that he could yank it away. He hadn’t answered the question, but Genji chuckled to himself.

     “Same old Hanzo,” Genji teased. Hanzo shot his brother an irritated glare, before tossing the pillow aside.

     “You should be asleep. It is late,” Hanzo said already tired of the cyborg’s taunting.

     “I stay up when Angela has patients at late hours.” Hanzo felt his stomach plummet. He’d forgotten to chastise himself for making Mercy stay up late to correct his error. And now Genji was awake too, waiting for his soulmate to join him. “Sometimes she works too hard and ends up falling asleep at her desk. I make sure that she makes it to bed for a full night’s rest.”

     Hanzo looked down at his crossed legs, dragging his loose hair over one shoulder with his finger so that it didn’t tug when he then leaned back against the wall. He weighed his options in his mind, debating on what he wanted to say next. There were actually several conversations that he wanted to have, but at the same time he didn’t feel like speaking at all. At least...not yet. “Just apologize, brother.”

     Hanzo looked up to Genji, his brows furrowed with a wrinkle in the crook of his nose. Genji stared back at him, unfazed by the expression. “You will feel better if you own up to your mistake, rather than sit here and mope.”

     “I do not mope.” Hanzo lied in denial. He was in fact waiting for Genji to leave so that he could continue moping. After thirty-eight years of living this way, he had no intention to change.

     “You have always made this exact same face when you mope. Even when we were children.” Hanzo rolled his eyes. “No matter what happens tomorrow, I have seen Cassidy come back from much worse. If something has happened to him, it is probably far less severe than what you are saying to yourself in your own mind.”

     “You may leave now. I am tired,” Hanzo said, as he looked pointedly at his wall, and away from Genij. He was ready to return to solitude, having no futher interest in his brother’s words. Genji paused for a moment, looking to his brother before leaning up and off the wall and stepping toward the door.

     “Just try it my way for once, Hanzo. Say what you feel, rather than keeping it inside. If you do not like it, you can return to your ways. But you will never know how much simpler things can be, if you do not try.” Hanzo’s expression softened as he listened to his brother’s words. He looked down at the cross of his legs again. “Good night, brother.”

     Hanzo waited for Genji to leave, and listened for the closing of his chamber doors. The sound of Genji’s footsteps began to fade as he made his way further down the Gibraltar hallways and out of ear-shot. Alone again, Hanzo let his head hit the wall with a thud, before turning the lights all the way back down, and blending into the late night hues off set by the streetlights outside.

     Sleep would not come to him this night. He already knew that he was fated to an irregular evening. Somewhere between his own guilt and the time lapse between Brazil and Spain, his body had decided to wage war against the evening. He would have to stay up for as long as he could, and then manually adjust his sleep schedule the next day.

     He only chastised himself for another hour before his own critiques began to sound like a broken record, eventually deciding to read. At first he busied himself by reading through the Overwatch profiles again, sifting through whatever Athena would grant him access to without a higher level of clearance. He had hoped that the information would be boring enough to coerce his mind into taking an early rest.

     He was mistaken. It had quite the opposite effect. He knew about Overwatch and a few of its members from his days in the Shimada clan. He anticipated the day that the two organizations would oppose each other, so it was best to know his enemy before the time came. But there were so many other things that he simply didn’t know.

    He focused his research for the evening on the original members of Overwatch, when the first initiative was led by Commander Gabriel Reyes, the American super-soldier. He remembered the name from the conversation the night before, between Ana and Cassidy. From his profile picture, he was a stern looking man with dark skin and pronounced features. Hanzo could see from the photo that he was beginning to strain under the weight of leadership. It was an expression that he’d recognized from his own mirror.

     He read about the commander, looking for any information that he could find, but each trail inevitably led to a dead end. Commander Reyes’ operations were usually classified, and he needed a higher clearance level in order to look into the forums in which Reyes had commented. Instead, he redirected his investigation toward the other founding members.

     Now having met her, Hanzo could picture the events and operations that featured Captain Amari in his mind with relative ease. She had worked her way up from the Egyptian military, to lieutenant behind Commander Reyes, and then to second-in-command to Strike Commander Morrison. Though her profile wasn’t as tightly locked as Commander Reyes’, there were still numerous files for which he needed a higher clearance to obtain.

     He kept moving, now studying the profile of Strike Commander Jack Morrison, another American. It seems that whatever operation Commander Reyes’ went under to become a super-soldier, Commander Morrison had endured the same thing. Noticing a pattern between the three profiles, Hanzo began triangulating any correlations, to uncover what he could from his own clearance level. He hadn’t uncovered much more, but the three of them came into frequent contacts with each other. He deduced that at one point, the three of them had formed a trinity of sorts.

    But when he’d hit every block that he could, he instead switched his focus to Torbjörn Lindholm, chief engineer of the first Overwatch initiative. The Swedish Engineer’s documents were plentiful, and open to his clearance level. It seemed that many of the weapons and features that he had seen around the Gibraltar had been of Lindholm’s personal making. He found in particular a forum discussion about what he now recognized as the prototype design of Ana’s current biotic sniper rifle. It had been Lindholm who had drafted the original version. And true to her story, Mercy had opposed him every step of the way.

     Lastly, his investigation led him to Lieutenant Reinhardt Wilhelm. He recognized the man from many of the posters that he’d seen in Japan. The German towered above the others, in and out of his armor. It seemed in many ways that he was the face of the group, whenever addressing the public in an unofficial capacity. Commander Morrison handled the more diplomatic and decisive reports on Overwatch as a whole, but it had been Wilhelm who garnered much of the publicity. And to the pleasure of everyone around him, he milked it for all that it was worth.

     These studies kept Hanzo occupied until he’d noticed a change in the lighting. He glanced at the clock and saw that the hours had drifted by. It hadn’t happened yet, but soon the sun would climb over the horizon and take its place in the sky. Thinking that this may be his last time to see it from here, Hanzo gathered his hair into a low bun and slipped into a pair of sweatpants fit for the outside, and clutching a pair of sandals.

    He stepped into the sandals outside of his bedroom, before closing the hatch behind him and making his way down the hallways toward the front entrance. He had Athena disable the security system so that he could open the gate, and step outside to feel the chilled morning air. He didn’t wait long, as he turned around and assessed a good angle. Finding the right strike point, he leapt.

     His feet pressed firmly against the wall as he jumped from one wall to the other, making his way to the rooftop. He lifted himself up and over the roof’s ledge, and then repositioned in order to sit on his knees. He’d had the pleasure of taking this moment to himself for a few minutes, but then his ears perked to the sound of a hatchet door being opened.

     Hanzo turned around to see who it was, unaccustomed to being joined at this hour. He was an early riser out of habit, enjoying the solitude of the morning which was never so promised at any other time of the day. It was rare for him to meet another who would be up at this hour. For a moment he feared that it had been Winston, coming to discharge him from the premises immediately. But Cole Cassidy had come through the rooftop hatch with a thick blanket and a bottle of whiskey.

     The cowboy took a few steps forward before he realized that he wasn’t alone. The two of them locked eyes for the moment, before Cassidy blinked, and continued over toward Hanzo. Hanzo cursed under his breath as Cassidy claimed the seat next to him at the roof’s ledge. The cowboy threw his feet over the edge, sitting comfortably before unfolding his blanket and wrapping it over his own shoulders, and untwisting his bottle cap. “Come here often?”

     The expression hadn’t escaped Hanzo’s recognition. He’d heard it enough in American sitcoms. It was strange for him to see Cassidy without his ridiculous hat. But it seemed that he had already showered. His hair was freshly washed and fell over the sides of his face lightly, rather than being weighed down by the grease and sweat from earlier. Hanzo heard Genji’s words repeat in his mind from earlier. He thought about what he would say, and how he would say it. He had apologized before, certainly, but it was often out of formal obligation or spite. But this time he had been in genuine error, which was something that he was honestly unaccustomed to. He didn’t tolerate error in others, so he made certain to never tolerate it in himself.

     But before he could say anything, Cassidy had held out his bottle of whiskey, with an arched inquisitive eyebrow. “Want a swig?” Hanzo instinctively scowled, looking first from the bottle, then to Cassidy, and lastly away. The cowboy shrugged and took another sip himself. “More for me then.”

     They sat together a little longer in silence, as Hanzo awkwardly contemplated doing the unthinkable. He thought to himself that he didn’t need to see the sunrise that badly. He could just jump down from the roof from here, steal a private shower and retire to his chambers again. But he had waited too long. To leave without word now...would honestly just be awkward. He breathed in through his nose, before closing his eyes and counting down from ten. When the words gathered themselves at last, he brought himself together to ask “How are you feeling?”

     Cassidy turned to look at him, and Hanzo motioned to where he was burned. “Oh...that. S’like it never happened. The doc’s medicine is pretty top notch. I don’t even feel it.”

     “You were on fire.”

     “Well shucks...Thanks,” Cassidy laughed, taking another sip. “You didn’t do too bad yourself ya know.”

     “No...I meant you were actually on fire. The flames burned a hole in your shirt before we both passed out.”

     “Oh…yeah that shirt’s tarnished now. Gotta remember to buy another one next time I’m off duty,” Cassidy said to himself, with a thoughtful expression. He set the bottle aside for a moment, before wrapping himself deeper into his blanket. It was chilly. Hanzo criticized himself for not thinking to bring his own blanket. But the sunrise was already beginning to brighten the sky. He could tough the cold for a few more minutes.

     “I like the sunrise, you know?” Hanzo turned to face Cole as he spoke. “It’s weird. I don’t know when it happened...maybe late twenties…but I became a morning person. There’s something about seeing the sun in the morning, when it first pops up like this. Can’t quite put my finger on it.”

     Hanzo looked out into the distance for a moment. “It is the dawning of a new day. The comfort of a new chance.”

     “I s’pose you’re right,” Cassidy said, untwisting the cap of his bottle again. Hanzo clenched his fists, before releasing them calmly onto his own lap.

     “Cassidy...I owe you an apology.” Hanzo could feel Cassidy looking over to him, but he didn’t dare look back. “I made a poor decision during our mission, which put both of us in jeopardy. You appear unharmed, but that does not erase the error on my part.” To Hanzo’s irritation he heard Cassidy snicker!

     “...I reckon that was pretty tough for you to say. S’no big deal Shimada,” Cassidy said, before correcting himself. “Hanzo, I mean. Trust me, we’ve all had worse.”

     “Be that as it may, I wish to make amends,” Hanzo said, clutching onto the fronts of his pants where they bundled at his knees. “Please, tell me what I can do to make things right.” He felt humiliated, but at the exact same time...oddly relieved.

     “...I can think of something...” Cassidy said after a long pause, and Hanzo turned to face him. He had a cheeky smirk as he held out his bottle again. “Take a swig, and all is forgiven.”

     Hanzo looked at the bottle in utter disgust once more, before calming the wrinkle that knotted on the bridge of his nose. He exhaled and closed his eyes.

     “...One drink, and you will forgive me...?”

     “...Just one...” Cassidy persisted. Hanzo took a deep breath, before taking the bottle from Cassidy. He untwisted the cap before looking down at the brown liquor. He steeled his nerves before closing his eyes and tipping the bottle upward and pressing it to his lips. He took a measurable drink, before swallowing it down and handing the bottle back over.

     The liquor burned as it slid down his throat, and the after taste was foul and wretched. But he kept his face still in spite of it all, feeling Cassidy’s expectant eyes waiting for a reaction. “...It is not the worst thing that I have tasted...” Hanzo remarked and Cassidy chuckled lightly.

     “What’s it gonna take for me to get you to try another? Maybe this one’s a bit too casual. I’ve got a bourbon that’s been aging pretty well.”

     “That chance will not come, I’m afraid. Ana will report my failure to Winston within the hour. My time here at Overwatch has come to an end.” Hanzo actually felt a twinge of remorse as he said those words. He hadn’t realized that this had come to mean something to him, or that he didn’t have a plan for what he was going to do next. His transition back to Japan would be rocky, but he could resume his old life.

     “You worry too much,” Cassidy said after a pause. Hanzo looked over to him, and then back at the sun as it peaked above the horizon lines. “The mission was a success overall, and there were no casualties. ‘Sides, as far as I’m concerned, I’d sooner go back out there with you than your brother.” Cassidy took another sip of his whiskey, but now he had Hanzo’s full attention.

     “Is that so?”

     The cowboy glanced over to Hanzo with an arched eyebrow, as he took another drink. “...Oh yeah,” Cassidy chuckled. “Me and Genji went on missions together all the time back in the day. Now HE was crazy! I mean don’t get me wrong; I do some dumb shit myself from time to time, but if the mission wasn’t dangerous enough as it was, Genji would find a way to make it dangerous. Come to find out, it was just so he’d have an excuse to go see the doc, but man...he’d sure drag me through it with him.” 

     “That sounds like my brother,” Hanzo said, with an exasperated headshake.

     “A mess and a half, that one. Oh man, and he’d taunt the people we were fighting all the time. I mean we’re supposed to be on a black-ops mission, y’know? So I’ve got my silencer on, and I’m droppin’ ‘em best as I can. But then I look over and see him flipping all through the air, and he’s over there saying something in Japanese-“

     “Mada-mada,” Hanzo mimicked Genji’s voice in Japanese the way that only a sibling can. The impression was uncanny.

     “That’s it! That’s the one,” Cassidy laughed, and Hanzo smirked along with him. “Oh man, and if the doc ever came out with us, I swear on my life he’d find a way to get hurt. It happened every time, without fail. You’re thinking the whole mission is done, and we’ve made it through with no problems. But then sure enough he’d be on the intercoms. ‘I need healing,” Cassidy teased.

     “I require healing,” Hanzo added, and the two of them chuckled together once again. “He did the same when we were growing up, to flirt with the nurses. It could be as simple as a paper-cut, but my brother would swear it were more akin to a stab wound and seek medical attention.”

     “Don’t I know it,” Cassidy laughed. Hanzo smiled for just a moment longer, before his face drooped back to its normal resting frown. After a light hearted chuckle, the two of them sat in silence, and watched as the sun climbed high enough to turn the skies blue. But Hanzo noticed that the guilt from before had vanished. His brother had been right.

     As the minutes continued, Hanzo felt the fight leave his eyes, as his body finally submitted to the fatigue. Gathering his strength, he rocked back onto the balls of his feet before standing up. “I take my leave. Thank you, Cassidy. Both for your words, and for the drink,” Hanzo said, before walking up to the ledge.  

    “So is that a yes to another drink sometime?” Cassidy asked with an arched brow. Hanzo turned away.

    “...We’ll see...” And with that, Hanzo leapt from the roof and jumped from a second ledge, before landing nimbly on the ground. He had Athena let him back into the building, and then retired to his chambers for a shower, and then a morning’s rest.

Chapter Text

     It wasn’t like him to hide this way. For the majority of his life, he’d had the entirety of the Shimada estate to call his own. Save for his parents’ offices and the shrine of the fallen, he could go anywhere he wanted, and at any time that he liked. There were guards of course to keep the area safe, but they were trained to be as ghosts, lurking in the unseen shadows to watch over the family from a noninvasive distance.

      In comparison, the Gibraltor was a fortress of stark contrast. No one was looking for him there; presumably because they didn’t know where to look. But he felt more trapped here than he ever did at home, as a known and acknowledged Yakuza heir. The members of the Overwatch resurgence all operated at different times of the day, for the entire twenty-four hours. There was never a time when he could walk to the kitchen without risk of bumping into someone. And then he would have to endure the rigors of an actual conversation.

    What worried him more, was the notion that if he ran into Ana or Winston, they might suddenly remember that his insubordination almost jeopardized not only one of their oldest and most experienced members, but an entire Favela of innocent people. Not even sleep could wash away the guilt that threatened to crawl up his throat and out of his lips at any given moment. He understood in his mind that hiding out in his room this way was futile; they would find him eventually. It was just that he took both comfort and discomfort in the fact that he hadn’t been summoned yet.

    But even as he tried to fight it, the ache in his stomach had become too irritating to push off any longer. He needed to eat something, and that meant that he needed to get off of his futon, open his hatchet door, and brave the hallway to the kitchen. The risk of external interference was high by his calculation. The hour was only midday, and he was certain to find someone else there, even if it wasn’t Ana or Winston. But his stomach wouldn’t wait much longer before becoming embarrassingly impolite.

    He stood up, grabbing a hair-tie and twisting his loose hair into a top-knot at the back of his head. He exchanged his casual wear for a long sleeved burgundy shirt that he pulled up to the elbow, and a pair of grey slacks with matching shoes. With a deliberate exhale, he opened the shuttle door to his room and stepped out into the hallway, hearing the door shut behind him.

     He’d made the conscious decision to forgo asking Athena for directions any longer. In what little spare time he had, he’d since managed to plot a map in his mind of the Gibraltar station, in regards to all of the places he had been. And more importantly, he’d plotted several immediate pathways to an exit should he need one. It only took him a few twists and turns to make his way to the kitchen. And just as he’d expected, it had been crowded.

     Despite his silence, and his desire to return to something of a normal attire, Genji almost always stuck out like a sore thumb. It was the juxtaposition of the harsh metal of his jawline, in contrast to the flesh of his skin; an unmistakable abnormality that Hanzo had to make a conscious effort not to stare at, lest he strain what little remained of their sibling relationship. Genji sat on the couch, cross legged across the room. And from the energy signature that was radiating from his sitting form, Hanzo could tell that his brother wasn’t happy.

    Angela sat next to him, holding a coffee mug and sitting so that her legs folded to the side like a mermaid. She had her back turned to Genji as she smiled, engaging in conversation with another woman, whose appearance and voice were both strikingly familiar. The moment after he noticed Cassidy standing at the refrigerator and tainting the milk with his touch, he made the connection. He’d just seen Fareeha ‘Pharah’ Amari, for the first time outside of her mech-suit. Ana’s daughter, while an entire head taller than her mother, bore a striking resemblance to her.

    “Well, if it isn’t Hanzo in the light of day,” Cassidy announced to Hanzo’s annoyance. Hanzo was thankful that the others didn’t seem to hear him.“S’weird, seeing you mingling with the common rabble. Kinda like seeing an old teacher in public,” Cassidy teased, and Hanzo scowled, moving right by him. He’d remembered that the food in the kitchen was public domain, if it wasn’t specifically labelled as otherwise. He managed to quickly secure bread for himself, before looking into the refrigerator resources. There were ample ingredients before him, but he had no interest in anything that would take more than five minutes to prepare. That’s what Omnics were for.

    “Aw c’mon now. Don’t tell me even after our morning conversation you still haven’t warmed up to me?”

     “I apologized, and you forgave me. Is there more that we need to discuss?” Hanzo intended it to be a rhetorical question, as if talking down to one of his subordinates. But Cassidy answered him anyway.

       “Absolutely. That is…if you’re in the mood for a little office hear-say.” Hanzo paused for a moment, between setting the sliced vegetables and deli meat on the slices of bread for a sandwich, to look to Cassidy. The Cowboy only nodded over to where the three others sat on the couch, with a mischievous smirk. Hanzo picked up on the notion, and glanced over to them as well.

       “What is wrong?” Hanzo asked, much quieter this time, as he feigned spreading mustard on the bread with a knife. Cassidy leaned in closer to keep their conversation private.

       “You see them flames flickerin’ at the top of Genji’s head?” Hanzo knew it was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t far from the truth. Genji was displaying blatant signs of irritation. “He’s jealous.”

       “Jealous?”

       “Mmmhm. Jury’s out on whether or not the Doc knows, but just about anyone with a pair of eyes can see that Amari jr. over there’s got a thing for her.” Hanzo’s eyes widened, as he looked from Cassidy, back over to the girls sitting on the couch. There was a degree of intimacy in the way that they interacted, but this was something that he simply attributed to women. He hadn’t suspected any ulterior motive in their conversation. But as he watched on, he could see how their interaction blurred the line between gabbing friends, and flirtatious exchange.

      “But…isn’t that futile?” Hanzo asked, and Cassidy looked back to him, waiting for him to elaborate. Hanzo double checked before he continued, making a point to look over at their hands. Despite their spiritual betrothal, neither Angela nor his brother wore engagement rings; a matter that he hadn’t even thought of before. Once a soulmate had been declared, there was no need to trouble one’s self with the rituals of courtship.  The universe had decided they were fated to one another. Why hadn’t they made it official?

       “Listen, the doc and I go back, but we never talked about…that sorta thing. She could be into ladies too for all I know; it’s possible. They still pretendin’ that sorta thing doesn’t happen in Japan?” Cassidy didn’t bother to wait for Hanzo’s response before looking back over to the couch. Hanzo decided to change the subject. He wouldn’t be the one to tell Cassidy, if he didn’t already know that Genji and Angela were soulmates. It was a private and sensitive topic, even for a sibling relationship as troubling as their own.

      “No, I just….I thought that Genji and Dr. Ziegler were already monogamous is all,” Hanzo whispered back, before closing his sandwich. He grabbed an apple from the counter fruit basket, before washing it off in the sink. But between rotations, he couldn’t help but let his gaze flicker up to the love triangle on the couch before him. People watching had become his only pastime in the years he spent in solitude. He found it even more entertaining in this instance however, having at least some of the story first hand.

       “Apparently so did he,” Cassidy said mockingly, moving to Hanzo’s other side and turning his back.  The cowboy made motions to wipe off the counter top and clean up the area. But from where he stood, Hanzo could see that everything had already been cleaned spotless. Recently, even. “Kinda funny ain’t it? Watchin’ him squirm like that? Man, I live for this stuff.”

       “How long have you been in here?” Hanzo asked knowingly. Cassidy shot him back a look that meant that Hanzo was absolutely on the right track. The cowboy stood in place, caught red-handed like the villain at the end of a mystery novel, whose identity had finally been solved by the main protagonist.

       “Cut me some slack Han,” Cassidy said, with a tone a little too sly for comfort. He tossed the paper-towel that he feigned using into the recycling bin, before moving back over to Hanzo’s other side, and resuming his drink. “This is only my third glass.” Hanzo maintained a pointed stare at Cassidy, but he gave in when he was certain the cowboy had no intention of looking back to him. He was too busy enjoying the show, as Mercy blatantly ignored Genji’s seething irritation in favor of an overly stimulating conversation with Pharah. Hanzo could hardly blame him. It was entertaining.

       But what they weren’t counting on, was for the show to become interactive. Mercy had seen Hanzo out of the corner of her eye, and whipped her head about to face him fully. In an instant, Cassidy ducked inconspicuously behind the cover of the refrigerator, sipping his third glass of milk on the way out. Hanzo could have sworn he heard the cowboy mumble something to the effect of 'I’m out,' as he walked away from the scene of their people-watching crime, leaving Hanzo to take the brunt of it. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why, but the archer felt betrayed.

       “Oh, Hanzo,” Mercy called, and Hanzo snapped his attention back over to her. She’d stood up from the couch and walked around Genji, making her way over to him. Hanzo noticed Pharah stand up as well, coming around the opposite way. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you. I was able to recover your gifts from the post. I just wanted to thank you! You didn’t have to do that, really,” Mercy said.

      Hanzo only nodded in response, hoping that she would end the conversation there. She didn’t. “Maybe you and I simply got off on the wrong foot. I’d like for us to try again. Oh, and speaking of introductions,” Mercy said, before stepping aside to allow Pharah into the conversation. “This is Fareeha Amari. She’s Captain Amari’s daughter.”

       “Hi there,” Pharah said, holding her hand out for a handshake. Hanzo followed her lead, and took note as she firmly clasped his hand. That was when he noticed the sizeable curve in her arm muscles, as they extended. She too was clearly military, judging by her stance and the way that she carried herself. That and the fact that she appeared capable of throwing him over her shoulder, and carrying him behind cover if she had to. He finished the shake with a nod.

       “Hanzo is Genji’s older brother,” Mercy explained, and Pharah’s eyes widened. It was brief enough that Hanzo couldn’t tell if she knew the entirety of what that meant. If she did, she was certainly subtle. Instead, she only smiled and shifted her gaze between Hanzo and Mercy. “He got here shortly before you, actually. Pharah’s decided to join the team,” Mercy announced.

       Despite Genji’s attempt at subtlety, Hanzo could hear him swear in Japanese from across the room. He had to force down the smirk that threatened his face, as he delighted in his brother’s misery. Hanzo would make it a point to keep Pharah around if she made Genji this uncomfortable. “Perhaps we will be allies in the future,” Hanzo said.

       “I look forward to it,” Pharah replied, before turning to Mercy and holding out her elbow. Mercy took it cheerfully, walking arm and arm with Pharah as they left the kitchen. Hanzo only watched for a moment before he realized that he still wasn’t alone. He turned to see his Cyborg brother, standing a little too close for comfort. Hanzo made a face, before recoiling.

       “Can I help you?”

       “You’re…smiling…” Genji said. The tone of his voice was laced with honest astonishment. The Cyborg-ninja truly couldn’t believe what he was seeing, even as it happened before him. Hanzo quickly fixed his face back into his regular frown.

       “Better?”

       “Ah, there’s my brother,” Genji taunted, before backing away once more and making his way around the kitchen island. Hanzo watched as the cyborg walked in the blatantly opposite direction of Mercy and Pharah, no longer interested in being the third wheel in their quasi-relationship. Hanzo moved over to the cupboard to grab a clean glass, before filling it up with cold purified water. He could feel the water slide down the inner workings of his chest, a sign of a thirst finally quenched. Satisfied, he turned back to what was supposed to be a plate full of sandwich. All that remained was bread crumbs. It only took him a moment to solve this mystery.

       “GENJI!”

Chapter Text

     “Agent D-22: Hanzo. Your presence has been requested by Agent T-41: Winston, in the operations room.” Athena’s message couldn’t have come at a worse time. Hanzo had been in the middle of his workout, doing handstand push-ups against the wall. He managed to maintain his balance, even as his heart seized with anxiety from the notification. He had become complacent and distracted by the day’s events, and in the oblivion he'd forgotten that Winston had forgotten to fire him. But now the time had come for him to be escorted off the premises of the Gibraltar. He lowered himself down from his push-up, standing right-side up and wiping the sweat from his brow.

     He paused for a moment to regain composure, and then replied “Tell him that I am on my way. I must shower first.”

     “Message transmitted,” Athena announced, before blinking off into obscurity again. Hanzo sighed and exited the fitness center, making his way back to the men's locker room. He opened his locker with his fingerprint signature, quickly disrobing before moving over to the showers. Regardless of how he felt about the situation, he wouldn’t keep Winston waiting. It only took him three minutes to lather his body with soap, and rinse away the sweat. Then with a couple of loose fingered rakes, he managed to shampoo and condition his hair. He turned off the shower head with an announced halt, before patting his body dry and roughly tossling his hair with his towel. After dressing again, he stopped to take a look in the mirror, tying his hair back at the base of his neck so that he at least looked somewhat presentable. He needed to preserve what little remaining dignity he had. He looked at his reflection for a moment longer, steeling his nerves before turning heel and making his way down the twists and turns of the Gibraltar hallway.

     Thinking to himself, he reflected on how there was some solace in being discharged from the Overwatch resurgence. For one, he wouldn’t have to tolerate any more unnecessary conversation. He also wouldn’t have to hear the lights that hummed so loudly in his ears as he paced the hallway. Japan was sure to be a blazing inferno this time of year, but he was accustomed to it. He managed to survive on his own before, and he could certainly do it again. When he arrived at the main conference room, the hatch door slid up into the roof and he snapped out of his self-soothing. He knew by now to expect Winston, so the sight of the Gorilla didn’t startle him the way that it used to. But he was staggered anew, after noticing that Winston wasn’t alone.

     The pair standing next to him were comedically opposite one another in appearance, but he recognized both of them individually. The Korean girl standing to his lift, shifting in place as she blew her bubble gum and texting on her phone, was none other than K-pop sensation Hana Song. And to his right stood the man that stopped the entire world with the televised announcement of his disappearance; Strike Commander Jack Morrison. “Ah, Hanzo! Thank you for joining us so quickly! I don’t believe the three of you have met before,” Winston began as D.Va popped another bubble of gum, to Hanzo's annoyance.

     “Ahn nyeong!” D.Va waved with a smile as she tilted her head. She seemed horribly out of place in their company, wearing a glamourized version of a letterman jacket and a school-girl's skirt that stopped halfway down her thigh. He knew of her in passing; her pan-Asian fame made her nearly impossible to mistake from the advertisements. There was an absurd frivolity to her public image, but he also knew that she had been drafted into the South Korean military as the principal pilot of their MEKA line; technology that the Shimada once set their sights on for development.

     <Greetings> Hanzo said in Korean. D.Va’s smile intensified.

     “This is Hana Song, but her call sign is D.Va. She’s one of the new additions to Overwatch. In fact, she’d only enlisted just before you," Winston said excitedly, unable to contain his exuberance with the influx of support for the cause. "Her skills as a pilot have been invaluable to the team thus far. Er…and this-" Winston began, as he gestured over to the white haired veteran, “is Strike Commander Morrison!"

      "Soldier 76. Strike Commander Morrison is no more," he corrected, and Winston sheepishly winced. Hanzo looked between the two of them before giving a curt head nod.

     "Pleased to make your acquaintance," he said, deciding to keep things short and sweet. Soldier 76 gave back the same quick head nod. They both turned to look to Winston but then the door opened once more, and they all turned around.

     "So sorry I'm late!" The click of Mercy's heels articulated the pace of her gait and she broke into a brisk semi-jog over to the group. She placed a gentle familiar hand on Hanzo's back, and he instinctively hitched, unused to being touched. But then he relaxed again instantly. He noted in the back of his mind that he would need to become okay with this...apparently.

     "Not at all, your timing is excellent," Winston insisted. "Athena, will you bring up my most recent research file?" At his question, a hologram projected a faux-globe in front of all of them, and winston used his fingers - spinning, pinching, and spreading, to enlarge the general map of South Korea. With a gentle brush of the back of his knuckle, he guided the map to the coast facing the Yellow Sea. "I had Athena run a predictive algorithm from all the previous footage of the omnic attacks that have happened in South Korea, hoping to pinpoint the location of the Omnium where they are being made," Winston announced, coming from around the faux-globe to face all of them directly.

     "We tried the same thing, but each time it came from a different direction," D.Va said. Hanzo noticed that a sudden mature sadness and exhaustion textured the sound of her voice. Moments ago she was the picture perfect plucky teenage girl. The change was striking.

     "Initially I found much the same. But with Athena's help we've actually discovered a pattern in their launch sequences. See? On the 12th of January they came from this direction here in the north-east," Winston said, and Athena automatically began to play back footage of the omnic assault that occured in South Korea four years ago. Hanzo remembered this from the news, wondering if the time would come when the omnics would set their sights on Japan. "But then here, It's from the south-east. And then in August it was the south west! I found it peculiar, but then I began to think - the Omnics that are attacking Korea are accustomed to habitation underwater. What if the Omnium itself was under water?  So I did some digging." Winston waved his hand in a wide arc, and a series of individual forum posts all opened and spread out throughout the room. "There have been sightings of what appears to be a giant monster moving through the yellow sea, and the sea of Japan But what if it isn't a monster? What if it's just-"

     "A giant Omnic!" D.Va's eyes widened as she finished what Winston was about to say.

     "An Omnic that also functions as a living Omnium," Soldier 76 pondered out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and putting a hand to his chin and beard. He began to sift through the individual forums. "It's strange, but not impossible. The Omnics have been known to develop at rapid speeds. We have yet to come against a moving factory, but the possibility can't be ruled out."

     "I had Athena run another predictive equation to pinpoint where its next strike point could be. We show it heading to latitude 36.648174 longitude124.950580 within the next three days. I know it's a lot to ask, and I'm working entirely on a risk, but we could save millions if this data proves correct. Do you have the time for a recconnaisance mission?"

     "Of course!" D.Va's enthusiasm grated on Hanzo's nerves. She reminded him entirely too much of a young Kiriko. "Winston, if you're correct then this will finally be over! We can put an end to the Omnic strikes once and for all!" Hanzo thought to himself that that declaration was a bit premature. But then again everything about her appeared premature. 

     "I'm happy to help in any way that I can," Mercy added with a small smile, and D.Va turned to her with thankful eyes. But then Hanzo saw that all eyes were on him.

     "I..." it had only occured to him at this exact moment that that was supposed to be a mission briefing. He thought he'd been brought here to be discharged and unceremoniously deported off base. Not to be drafted into another battle. He took a moment to weigh his words, and then carefully answered "If I can help, I will."

     "When do we embark?" Soldier 76's gruff voice posed the question to Winston,  who smiled in return.

     "I can have the Orca ready for departure tonight." Hanzo's stomach twisted into a knot. When he first came to this organization, he was nervous about reuniting with his brother Genji. But the Orca had become his true nemesis - his punishment for unforgiveable transgressions. "I'll forward a mission packet over to each of you within the hour for study. But if you're all on board, I would suggest that you gather your things and rest before the journey."

     "Oh, Thank you so much!" D.Va cheered and embraced Winston with a hug at terminal velocity. Winston only chuckled upon impact, wrapping a large arm around her. Hanzo heard Mercy giggle at his side, as Soldier 76 turned to leave. Hanzo thought to follow after him, but the nagging sensation wouldn't leave his chest.

     "Winston, if you have a moment I would like to speak with you," Hanzo said, and D.Va let him go. "Apologies for the interruption."

     "No problem! I want to see the rest of this sick base! This place looks amazing!"

     "Oh, I'll give you a tour," Mercy declared, walking around Hanzo's back to greet her. "It's nice to formally meet you by the way! I loved Hero of My Storm," Mercy said, and Hanzo thought he heard D.Va make something of an embarrassed noise. They carried on in their conversation as they walked out of Winston's headquarters. He waited until they were out of the room and the hatch door sealed shut behind them.

     "Yes, Hanzo? Is everything alright?" Winston asked, turning to look at him with earnest upturned brows. The bass-like thump of his giant steps played out in staccato triplets as he slowly approached. 

     "I did not think that you were calling me here to take on another mission. I thought that you were calling me here to decommission me. After my failure in Rio de Janeiro, it is only fitting that I be expelled from Overwatch," Hanzo said lowering his gaze to the floor. It hurt in his chest to confess these inadequacies.

     "Oh my goodness! I am so sorry - I thought - " Winston clapped an apeish hand to his own face entirely too roughly and Hanzo flinched at the sound. "Hanzo, my sincerest apologies! I meant to formally welcome you in! I had an announcement planned and we were going to do a meal, but then I got so wrapped up in my research -" Winston prattled on, but Hanzo held up his hands in surrender.

     "Please do not. A meal is entirely unnecessary," he said with wide eyes of insistence. "And unwarranted. You must not have spoken with Cap-" He began but then corrected himself "with Ana. Surely she will set this matter straight. I am afraid you may have to find someone else for this expedition in Korea."

     "Quite the contrary! She did mention that you deviated from parameters at one point, but given the gravity of the situation she understood your concern. In a roundabout way, she was impressed with the way you took initiative," Winston said, pulling up Ana's assesment report. Hanzo quickly skimmed the text, stopping at the part where Ana wrote that they 'would be making a mistake not to allow him into the resurgence.'

     "She...is too kind," Hanzo said, embarrassed now for some strange reason.

    "Captain Amari is as kind as she is many other things. But never dishonest. I enjoy your company Hanzo, but if she thought that you were ill-suited for the role, then I would have had you removed without question. The truth is ... there's something about Overwatch that brings out the best in all of the best people. She believes you're one of those people. We both do." Hanzo flinched. This was entirely too much praise. He needed to leave.

     "I will do my best to earn this opportunity," he said, and then gently bowed his head.

     "Are you sure about the party, though? We could -"

     "Please don't."

*************

     Hanzo decided to step outside for some air. The sound of the ocean stilled the adrenaline in his body. So much had happened, and so very quickly. He was unaccustomed to the lack of routine, but it wasn't unwelcome, so much as it was unsettling. He closed his eyes and opened his ears, listening to the sounds of waves crashing on top of each other. His heartbeat found the rhythm of the water and kept time. A year ago this would have been impossible. Six months ago this would have been impossible. But he could feel the separate halves of himself begin to reach for each other internally. Genji was the one who laid cold and bloodied that dreadful day, but he too had been cut down, and made into a memory of who he used to be. He did not deserve to heal, so he let himself remain in perpetual suffering. The word he was looking for - the feeling that he felt now - was relief. A feeling long forgotten, and now foreign.

     He walked aimlessly to himself and a stray thought told him to unclench his jaw and lower his shoulders. His body thanked him for the opportunity to slack, as he turned his vision toward open waters. The blue hue soothed the strain of his eyes with ease, looking at all of it but nothing in particular. He wouldn't be able to sleep again so soon, but this would be the best way for him to relax before the evening's departure. He sat cliff-side for the moment, resting on his knees and letting the breeze creep across the back of his neck. But he heard a hatch door open behind him, and he turned to see who it was.

     Ana had come out of the hatch in an oversized hat and a loose fitting shirt that hung over multiple layers. She wore socks with sandals and slouchy pressed pants. She surprisingly looked her age now. He couldn't believe this was the same woman that he'd witnessed rooftop-running not so long ago. He felt her steps through the floor, approaching but without intent. He moved to stand, but her voice interrupted the motion. "Please, don't let me disturb you. I only mean to water the plants, I'll be gone in a moment." He leaned back once more, looking down and rolling in his lips, before looking back to her.

     "I was surprised to hear that you recommended my services to Winston." He knew that she heard him, but she continued on her trajectory, moving through the grass to the flowers outside of the Gibraltar. "Given what happened," he continued, "I was certain that I would be on my way back to Japan right about now."

     "On the field of duty, I am a sniper. I was a captain. I have to be stern. But I've been around long enough to be able to discern intent relatively quickly," she said with a bitter sort of chuckle. He presumed it was a self-deprecating nod to her advanced age. "You understood that people were in danger, and you acted. And judging by how you carry yourself, you're used to acting alone." She was dead on. He swallowed, resisting the wrinkle of indignation that threatened the bridge of his nose. But she continued. "I was much the same. In many ways, I still am." She pulled back her watering can and turned to face him now, holding it in front of her, as the breeze caught her over-sized shirt. "But what matters - what always matters - is that you answered the call to action, with bravery and good intent. Most men run away from city-leveling bombs. You ran toward one. That character is in short supply these days."

     "Be that as it may," Hanzo began, though he thought not to push, but she gave no sign of weariness of conversation. He continued "I worry that this opportunity has not yet been properly earned." Ana frowned and looked aside, the muscles of her face acknowledging the validity of his statement. The way she moved her head from side to side indicated that she was saying 'perhaps that's true' with just her body language. But then she looked back to him thoughtfully.

     "Well then you must do something for me, Hanzo." He looked to her, with eyebrows raised. She squatted down to meet him eye to eye. "Prove me right." The smile that came across her face was contagious. The corners of his lips moved involuntarily. She rose from her squatted position and adjusted her hat. "I've already given you my seal of approval in writing, and I have a perfect track record. See to it that I maintain my streak."

     "Hn," he smirked from underneath his usual gloom, and then nodded with affirmation. "Understood, Captain." Ana smiled in earnest, rubbing his shoulder affectionately before turning to leave. He watched her go, and then turned to look at the plants that she'd watered. The light of the sun bounced off of the fresh water that began to soak into the leaves. The poetry of the moment hadn't escaped him. 

      He looked out onto the water once more, and then closed his eyes. 

Chapter Text

     Hanzo curled his toes and closed his eyes. Deep breaths in and out of his nostrils, slow and steady as his body swayed from the shaking motion of the Orca. He tried all of the tricks – daydreaming he was elsewhere, counting to one hundred in different languages – anything to relieve his mind of the turbulence of take-off. His grip tightened on the arm rests, but once the ship steadied he felt it loosen naturally. He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the sights around him. Admittedly, lift-off had been slightly easier this time.

     Mercy had been the first to unbuckle and rise from her seat. She held a stainless steel travel mug with what must have been coffee from the smell; strong coffee at that. Hanzo didn’t let his eyes linger on her for too long, out of fear that she might try to strike up a conversation. They had only just gotten to steady ground together. A stability stand-off suited him just fine.

     Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Soldier: 76 unclipping his seatbelt and making his way over to the desk across the floor. He pulled up a hologram map, and another hologram document, reviewing the mission packet again. Hanzo assumed it was a force of habit, and that he triple checked everything when he was Commander. He remembered all of the posters that he would see in support of Overwatch, and how they went from pride to propaganda at an astonishing pace. Reinhardt was the face, but Commander Morrison was the leader. Any mistakes that were made by anyone were his to answer for.

     The moment’s ponderance brought him a small familiarity. It wasn’t unsimilar to his brief tenure as the head of his clan. Every decision that he made was put under immediate and constant scrutiny. The weight of the role was both an honor and a curse, and the remnants of the effect had woven themselves into his own mannerisms. He too triple checked the mission packet well before getting onto the Orca. It had become a force of habit. When he was wrong, his family died, so he couldn’t ever be wrong. He imagined the Commander felt much the same.

     This moment of distant kinship was sharply interrupted when he felt a pair of eyes boring into the side of his head, and his vision immediately snapped over to his left. D.Va was staring at him with no effort toward concealment. And as he met her eyes she didn’t bother to look away, only furrowing her brow and staring into his eyes even deeper. He narrowed his lids back at her and broke the silence. “Can I help you?”

     “Doesn’t your face get tired? Holding that permanent frown?” It was only then that he realized that she had been trying to mimic his expression. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. “Seriously, if you don’t loosen up that grimace of yours, you’re going to get wrinkles.”

     “Tch,” he scoffed at her, and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Perhaps you should worry a little less about my complexion, and a little more about our upcoming mission.”

     “Worry? This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. If we pull this off,-“ She began, but then the words disappeared from her voice in an abrupt silence. The light in her eyes dimmed, and his own eyebrows rose with concern. He watched her exhale and gather herself again. “It’s going to work. You’ll see.” She finished her heroic statement with a wink, and then pulled her feet up into the chair, hugging her legs to her chest. She pulled a handheld video game out of her jacket pocket, and her thumbs began to click away at the buttons.

     “Commander?” Hanzo heard Mercy ask. He looked over to her, holding out an outstretched mug.

     “You don’t have to call me that anymore,” Soldier: 76 responded.

     “You will always be Commander to me,” she said. He accepted the mug from her with a quiet ‘thank you,’ and she rubbed his shoulder with a familiar affection. “I’m thankful to be able to see you again. Even more to be able to work alongside you. I had my reservations about Overwatch as you know…but they were never about you.”

     “I’m grateful, Angela. In my travels I did hear of a winged angel, coming to people’s aid in their darkest hours. I imagine you’ve perfected the airfoil ratio on your Valkyrie?”

     “Much to Torbjorn’s dismay.” The pair of them chuckled, but then Hanzo watched Mercy turn away. The interaction was so natural he felt invasive in their presence. But everywhere he looked there were notions of familial familiarity around the Orca. Scribbles of hearts and stickers of encouragement along the walls. There were even pictures of the old crew posted up, all of them so young and happy. Each of them shouldered the burden of the world. But he thought to himself that perhaps when they were together, the weight was easier to bear.

     He closed his eyes again and thanked whoever was listening that Genji had found these people. He deserved this family – not the one they were born into.

******

     “This is mission control to team. Team - do you copy?” Soldier: 76 was holding a hologram projector of Winston in his hand. The team stood around him so that they were all in Winston’s field of vision.

     “We copy,” Soldier: 76 replied.

     “We are approaching the coordinates of the suspected underwater omnium. The Orca will automatically begin conversion to submarine form. If you haven’t already changed into your underwater suits, now would be the time. As a reminder – this mission is off the books. Should anything happen, the only person who is able to reach out to the Korean military for assistance would be D.Va. Any others will be met with hostility. Is that clear?” It was a restatement of the introductory paragraph of the mission brief, but Hanzo appreciated Winston’s thorough candor.

     “Affirmative,” Soldier: 76 and Mercy answered in unison.

     “Phase one of the mission will be for the Orca to confirm the validity of our hypothesis. If it is true, then phase two will begin at the instruction of Comman- I mean – Soldier: 76. If not, you will return to headquarters. Are there any questions?” Hanzo waited, but no one said anything. “Understood. Then good luck heroes. Mission control – out.”

     The hologram blinked out of existence and Soldier: 76 quickly handed out a series of comms to the team. Hanzo clipped the comm into his ear. “These won’t work underwater, but the Omnium is certain to have a drainage system. Once we’re inside we’ll be able to communicate, should the need arise. I’ve worked with Mercy before, but not the two of you. I’m honored to be a member of this team, but from this point forward I am in command. Is that clear?”

     “Yes,” Mercy affirmed.

     “Okay!” D.Va’s cheerful reply was even more immature than a young Genji’s.

     “Hn,” Hanzo answered with a nod. But then his eyes widened as the Orca suddenly lurched downward. Mercy quickly moved to her seat and buckled up, and Hanzo decided to follow the medical professional. D.Va and Soldier: 76 remained standing. From Hanzo’s point of view, they were either foolish or without fear. Neither thought brought him comfort.

      He turned to look out the window, and saw the view of the sky creep lower and lower until the horizon line touched the sea. The Orca inched closer and closer to the water, before coming to a slow stagnant hover and gently descending into the waves. Then, Hanzo heard the jet engine die down, as the wings outside of his line of sight converted themselves into propellers. It took what felt like two minutes, but the Orca began to submerge beneath the water.

      The surface was a light blue, still illuminated by the light of the morning sun. But they continued down, lower and lower, and the view from the windows darkened drastically. Fortunately the inside of the Orca remained well lit, and the lights on the outside brightened the surrounding area. He looked out to see the fish swimming nearby, marveling at the opportunity. The closest he’d ever been to anything like this was an aquarium.

      Mercy rose from her seat, now that the landing was stable. He reflected to himself that the descent into the water hadn’t bothered him like ascent into the air. A ponderance for another time. He unbuckled himself and moved to take off his hoodie and pants. He wore a skin-tight bodysuit underneath that was suited for the water, should the need present itself. He made certain to secure his air filter as well. It was a strange precaution, seeing as the pressure of the water would kill them regardless of the oxygen, but death by drowning wasn’t an idea he wanted to flirt with.

     “We won’t have visual for about three more hours,” Soldier: 76 announced, while moving away from his own view.

     “Commander, what may I ask is the plan if it turns out that Winston’s hypothesis is correct?” Mercy asked the question, but D.Va’s eyes were the most attentive to the answer.

     “Most Omniums follow the same structure, as far as building layout. They all require a large central generator, in order to keep up production. If it turns out as we think, our next steps will be to find a way to destabilize the generator. Then we’ll have to evacuate before the factory collapses.” Soldier: 76 moved over to a duffel bag with the Overwatch insignia. He showed what looked to be an explosive, with a state of the art timing array.

     “But let me be clear - this is mostly a reconnaissance mission. Taking down an entire omnium would require more than the four of us. If the heat gets too hot, we’re out. Song can take this information back to the Korean military, and they can decide what to do from there.” D.Va gave a sharp nod, and Mercy smiled in response. Hanzo instead turned to look out the window.

     It was dark. So dark it sent chills down his spine. He hadn’t been one to fear the darkness, but there was a certain hopelessness of this position. Surrounded by lung-crushing waters, unable to tell which direction led to the surface, because everywhere he looked, there was blackness and nothing else. The occasional deep sea fauna drifted by the window and caught him off guard. But without the outer lights of the Orca, he wouldn’t have known that anyone was there. They were utterly and entirely alone.

     “How are you feeling?” Hanzo turned to see Mercy walk up beside him.

     “I appreciate your concern, but I am alright,” he replied, as the echoes of his mother’s voice in the back of his mind urged him to remember his manners. “And yourself?”

      “Don’t…tell Genji but…the ocean makes me very nervous,” she confessed with a subtle sheepish cringe. “I know it sounds silly, I mean given everything that I’ve been through with Overwatch, but…something about looking out and not seeing land anywhere?” She shuddered to finish her statement. He found himself smiling. She was unfortunately quite cute.

     “It…is the opposite for me. I felt worse when we were in the air. Though, I believe you know that already.” She smiled and rubbed his arm, much like she had done with Soldier: 76 earlier. He didn’t jump this time. His body was becoming accustomed to touch again. Mercy seemed to understand the limits of his social tolerance, and thankfully stepped off to another part of the Orca. He had been alone for the past few years, so his charismatic muscles needed stretching, and then proportionate rest.

     He let his eyes drift back out the window, listening to the sounds of the Orca, and the surrounding waters. He waited for the sensation of his ears popping, but it never came. Instead he lost himself in the tranquility of the isolation, and the remaining time drifted by. That was when Soldier: 76 broke the silence. “We have visual.”

     D.Va was the first to the front, wedging in by Soldier 76’s side to press her face out the window. The Orca beamed bright lights, with an impressive radius. But the dwarfing scape of the ocean floor shortened the field of vision with its oppressive mass. Still, Hanzo found himself speechless at the view.

     It always baffled him that even now in his year, humanity knew more about the moon than they did the ocean floor. Very few crafts had the technology to venture this deep into the water, and even fewer actually made the journey back. But the ground looked much like that of a vast cavern, or a valley, littered with rocks, shells, and crustaceans. But then his eyes looked on in the distance, and then widened with absolute horror.

     It was massive. So massive that he needed to leave his eyes on the structure for what felt like minutes, to make sure it was actually moving. But then he felt it - the smash of what must have been a giant ‘foot’ into the ground that then sent rippling vibrations against the outer walls of the Orca. It was minutes before it happened again, but it happened. Hanzo swallowed, nervous at the new information.

     “Winston…you were right!” D.Va’s eyes widened with the realization. “Do we phone back?” She turned to look to Soldier: 76 for confirmation.

     “No. The signal won’t reach from here. We’re too far below sea level. We have our orders,” Soldier: 76 responded, taking photos and video to document their sightings of the massive moving Omnium. “Take us in,” he ordered to Ray, the pilot.

     “Sir, there appears to be a password protocol required in order to access the loading dock.”

     “Here,” Soldier 76 responded by tossing over a small drive with what Hanzo assumed to be the same hacking program on his first mission. He couldn’t make out Ray from his position, but he could see the operating system registering the Omnium’s protocols from a hologram above the strategy table.

ACCESS: GRANTED

     “Alright team. The Orca is going to take us inside, and we’re going to wait for the water to drain out of the filtration system. From there, we’ll be able to embark. Remember, this is a stealth mission. Hanzo, Mercy, you will be taking point on this operation together,” Soldier: 76 rattled off as the ship moved into place.

     “Affirmative,” Mercy said, hanging onto one of the grab rails nearby for stability.

     “Understood.” Hanzo replied.

     “Mercy, you’re our eyes in the sky. Fly ahead as quietly as possible and let us know what you’re able to see. Hanzo, you’ll use your arrows to eliminate any key targets silently. I’ve seen your records in the room - I trust you’re a capable shot. D.Va, you and I will trail after them in the next adjacent room.” 

     "No way! I should be up front!” D.Va countered, making moves to prepare her mech, Tokki.

     “That mech of yours is too loud. You and I have the fire-power in case the situation calls for it, but mission success is contingent upon us handling this quietly and carefully,” Soldier: 76 said.

     “Awww…” She whined with a defeated slump of her shoulders, and Hanzo fought back the urge to roll his eyes.

     “You have your orders. Move out in five.”

     Hanzo reached his hands up to the ceiling of the Orca, and then bent at the hips to touch his toes. He moved to stretch his arms, his neck, and then lunged for his legs. After turning to stretch his calves, he noticed that Mercy was doing the same, and he remembered that she was closer to him in age than she was to Genji. Forgetting to stretch before a mission was something that both of them had learned never to regret again. Once he felt prepared, he took his position by the door and turned on his ear piece. “Hanzo, testing.”

     “Copy,” Soldier: 76 answered.

     “Mercy, testing?”

     “Copy.”

     “D.Va, checking in?”

     “Copy. We have link. Hanzo, Mercy, head out,” Soldier: 76 ordered.

     The hatch door to the Orca opened. The omnium was dripping with water but there was oxygen and dim lighting. Hanzo stepped out first, arrow knocked as he peered and peeled around the corner of the Orca. There was no sign of enemy Omnics, so he pressed forward. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a bright golden light and he turned to look.

     Mercy had wings reminiscent of the angels from western religions. She soared above his head silently, and flew through an overhead hatch. He waited by the door for her command. “Clear,” she said, and he pressed the button to open the door in front of him. He trekked down the halls behind her, arrow at the ready. All they could see for the time being were stray crates and scrap parts that had yet to be dealt with. But the structure of the Ominum seemed to be guiding them downward, toward what would be considered its ‘belly’. The dim lighting now shined a bright and threatening red as they crept lower together. Hanzo remembered his stealth training and stayed on the balls and pads of his feet, silent as the night. But Soldier: 76 broke the quiet. “Status report?”

     “We are approaching the main floor,” Mercy replied. Hanzo wasn’t sure how she knew, but he trusted her. But suddenly the hatch door made a noise as though it were about to open. Mercy instinctively flew straight up, pressing her back to the ceiling, and Hanzo tumbled behind a cargo crate. Just as they both slipped into obscurity, a service Omnic came through the door. Hanzo presumed it was aware that they had visitors, and went to greet them per its protocol. He waited for the Omnic to pass him, before putting an arrow clean through its head.

     “Nice shot!” Mercy whispered over the comms.

     “Service Omnic down,” Hanzo said.

     “Excellent. Mercy, clear to proceed?” Soldier: 76 asked.

     “Clear. I’m going ahead.” Mercy reached into her belt to pull out a screwdriver. She took apart a ventilation grate before army-crawling through it on her elbows and knees. Hanzo waited, but she never gave the all-clear. Instead, she said “Hanzo, you’ll have to take the vent. We have company.” It was barely above a whisper.

     Hanzo backed up, before running forward and jumping up onto the crate he’d used for cover, and then up to the vent that Mercy crawled through. He pulled himself up and then positioned himself to crawl, but it was a much tighter fit on him than it was for Mercy. He made his way through after some time, wedging up right next to Mercy who sat on the edge of the vent with her legs hanging out of the opening. And then he saw why she said not to take the door.

     In front of them was a massive open factory, crawling with production Omnics on every level. The assembly droids moved in automatic and predictable wordless patterns like ants, picking up various boxes and equipment and bringing them to their destinations. But what immediately caught his eye was what he assumed to be a thirty story drop from their vent. And down at the very bottom was the central processing core from the mission brief. They would have to traverse down thirty floors to do this.

     “…Commander…we have a problem.” Mercy took a visual of the omnium in video and forwarded back to Soldier 76 and D.Va’s comm-links. There was quiet for a time, other than the sound of the Omnics beneath them going about their tasks. But then Soldier: 76 came over the comm link in response.

     “I see. It’s almost completely vertical. In order to get to the core, we’d have to plummet to the floor, set the bomb, and then fly all the way back up through hordes of enemy omnics. The odds are too severe. I’m calling this mission complete.”

     “Wait!” D.Va yelled over the comms. The sound of her voice carried, and Hanzo noticed a stray omnic turn its head to look up. Hanzo grabbed Mercy around the midriff and yanked her back into the vault and out of sight. They waited for what felt like an eternity, but nothing came for them. Mercy tapped his arm to let him know he could let go.

     “D.Va, watch your volume! This is a stealth mission,” Soldier: 76 whispered in a low commanding growl.

     “I’m sorry! But look, on the footage, down on like…theeeeeeee…twelfth floor!” D.Va argued back. Mercy played back the footage from inside the vault on her hologram and Hanzo watched with her. There was a large squid-like Omnic being outfitted with new weaponry, and then a computer screen showing a scheduled departure date. Hanzo’s eyebrows rose with horror. The Omnics were planning another attack on Korea in three days.

     “Disregard that,” Soldier: 76 replied, indicating that he’d seen what Hanzo and Mercy had seen, “We don’t have the required operatives in order to pull off something to this scale.”

     “But it’ll take us an entire day to get this information back to Winston, and even longer to form a counter-attack. If we don’t stop them here, people will die! We have to at least go for a sabotaging stall. Even if we can’t completely shut down the omnium, there has to be a way to delay!” D.Va argued over the comms. Hanzo felt for her. She wasn’t wrong. There was silence for a long time, but then Soldier 76 came back over the comms.

     “Mercy, does it look like any of the vents connect all the way through the omnium?”

     Mercy crawled back forward, pointing her head out of the vent. “Judging from our current vantage point, no. It would appear the only way down is through the central chamber.” Hanzo looked out as well. She was correct.

     “D.Va, how fast can that mech of yours fly?” Soldier: 76 asked. Hanzo didn’t like where this train of thought was headed.

     “One hundred and fifty miles per hour. Faster than the Omnics,” D.Va replied.

     “Hanzo, Mercy, fall back,” Soldier: 76 ordered. Hanzo pushed himself out by the arms, and Mercy followed after. It was an uncomfortable wriggle, but they managed to get out of the vents and back onto the floor. Soldier: 76 and D.Va met them in the next room, but the thumps of D.Va’s mech’s steps against the steel floors were anything but stealthy. Hanzo kept his eyes alert for sentry drones that would pick up on the noise.

     “Alright team, change of plans. We’ll have to go out of this door. Hanzo and I will strap ourselves to the mech. D.Va will have to lower us down, and then Mercy will place the explosive. I’ll preset it for exactly one minute and thirty seconds. After that we’ll have to fly up and out." Hanzo’s stomach fell into the back of his knees with absolute horror. Nothing about this was safe, nor wise.

     “We can do this!” D.Va said with the vigor of reckless youth.

     “We better. If this goes wrong, we’re all dead. Ray?” Soldier: 76 called.

     “Commander?”

     “Set a timer for five minutes. If we’re not back in that time, we are dead. You take the Orca and leave. Do NOT wait. That’s an order,” Soldier: 76 said.

     “…Understood sir,” was Ray’s shaky reply over the comms. Hanzo watched as Soldier: 76 synchronized a timer with Ray. Then he went over to the scrap piles of Omnics that he saw laying about. He ripped the metal apart with his bare hands; an astonishing feat for a man with a head of aged gray hairs. Then Hanzo remembered what Cassidy said about Ana, Soldier: 76, and Reyes. He was a living super soldier.

     He appeared to be grabbing the cables from the Omnic’s innards, and weaving them together to make a rope. Hanzo followed suit, grabbing another scrap - Omnic, and ripping it apart in a similar but slower fashion. He moved to pull out the wires, but Soldier: 76 threw him an already fashioned set of cables and took the Omnic carcass from Hanzo. “Secure yourself down. I’ll be over in a moment,” He ordered. Hanzo took the cables with a nod and ran over to D.Va and Tokki, her mech. He secured the cable belt around himself first, and then hitched it over to one of Tokki’s leg appendages, and then the other end to the arm. He made it so he could stand upright, so long as his feet remained on Tokki’s side.

     “You’re heavier than you look, you know,” D.Va complained from inside her mech, but Hanzo ignored her. It had only just dawned on him that he would be flying while standing upright on this comedically unsafe one-person mech, now bearing a load of three. The hope in his body dried to ash. He didn’t snap out of his downward spiral until he felt Tokki rock from the weight of Soldier: 76 on its opposite side. The commander strapped himself in in a similar fashion, and then cocked and loaded his assault rifle.

     “Mercy, you’ll have to carry the explosives. Can you handle that?” Soldier: 76 asked, holding out the duffle bag from earlier.

     “Roger,” Mercy replied, taking the bag from him, and throwing it over her body with an instinctual fold and unfolding of her wings. She grabbed onto a handle protruding from Tokki’s back to secure herself, but she had her own wings deployed for flight the minute they landed at the bottom. Hanzo didn’t realize that he was staring until she looked back at him with a knowing and concerned look. “Hanzo?” Shit. She was aware of his weakness.

     “I’m fine,” he spat out, nostrils wrinkled and arms tight.

     “What’s wrong?” Soldier: 76 looked over to him now as well, eyes as concerned as hers. He moved as though he were about to unstrap himself and check on Hanzo, like a father to a child.

     “I’m fine,” Hanzo lied, eyes forward on the door. His heart was thumping in his throat.

     “We don’t have time for this! Clock’s ticking!” D.Va’s scream broke the stagger.

     “Alright, everyone ready?” Soldier: 76 asked for the last time, his eyes on the timer. Less than two minutes, and counting.

     “Ready!”

     “Ready!”

     “Ready.” Hanzo lied, again.

     “Move out!”

     The door hatch opened and Hanzo’s stomach jumped up into his neck as Tokki ran through and immediately jumped, plummeting downward in a full frontal nose-dive. He clenched his teeth as the wind blew into his eyes and they began to rapidly pick up speed. The next thing he knew, there were blaring red lights and an ear shattering alarm rang through the open factory. Then, a large flying squid-like Omnic had been deployed and was rapidly descending after them.

     “Hanzo, six o’clock!” Soldier: 76 barked. Hanzo span around just in time to see a tentacle coming his way. He quickly knocked an arrow and put it right through the omnic’s core. It made a noise as if it were actually wounded, before glitching from the impact and detonating from within. Hanzo looked around to see that there were dozens more heading for them. He moved to take a shot on the next one, but to his immediate horror, D.Va swerved and did an evasive barrel roll.

     “D.VA, YOU HAVE TO WARN US BEFORE YOU DO THAT!” Soldier: 76 shouted over the comms and into all of their ears.

     “Hang on! We’re almost there!” D.Va yelled.

     Hanzo’s heart was beating so fast he was certain he was approaching cardiac arrest. He felt his eyes gloss over and dull, until he was yanked up right by the momentum of Tokki’s thruster jets activating as they approached the ground floor. He sloppily grabbed another arrow and fired it upward, missing by a wide arch. But it broke into smaller arrows that ricocheted off the walls, dismantling several Omnics.“I’m going in!” Mercy yelled, and again Hanzo saw her golden wings light up. Mercy leapt heroically from the back of Tokki, with the explosives in her hands. But there were already two mechs after her.

     Soldier: 76 gunned one down, but then yelled “Hanzo, cover Mercy!” Hanzo blinked, straining his eyes for clarity of sight from his internal panic. He knocked an arrow and exhaled before firing it clean through the second Omnic’s back. On his right he heard gunfire from Soldier: 76, and from beneath him the constant ammunition of D.Va’s blasters and rockets. When his eyes cleared, he saw that Mercy had cleanly set the explosive down by the omnium’s core. “Mercy get clear! The explosive is set to detonate in twenty seconds!”

     “HANG ON!” D.Va yelled as Tokki suddenly jerked upward. The jet boosters roared with a heat and ferocity akin to a dragon’s breath. Hanzo felt his neck snap back from the whiplash, and gritted his teeth. He swallowed, looking about at what seemed to be dozens of jellyfish-like Omnics buzzing and humming around them like furious wasps defending their hive. He fired shot after shot, doing what he could to mitigate those closest to gaining on them. Soldier: 76 appeared to be doing the same, as a predictive algorithm projected from his visor.

     But then from the corner of his eyes, Hanzo saw the golden light of Mercy’s wings fluttering about in a panic. She was doing her best to catch up to Tokki, but there was an Omnic hot on her tail. She spun around to shoot it head on, but her pistol’s fire didn’t seem to break the hard outer shell of the Omnic’s armor. Hanzo’s blood ran cold as ice, even in the heat of the moment. Genji barely forgave him for what he had done to him in the past. He would never forgive him if he let anything happen to Angela.

     “MERCY!” He yelled. She whipped her head around to look at him, and he aimed an arrow just past the crook of her neck in a moment of desperation. The arrow landed decisively into the omnic’s underbelly. Hanzo saw Mercy’s wings shine brighter as she accelerated upward to him, but then everything around them was engulfed by the deafening explosion of the omnium’s core.

     The fire from beneath them rose at a frightening rate. Hanzo held out his hand, reaching with futility to Mercy, but it was up to her to close the gap. Just as D.Va propelled them through the exit, Mercy made it just far enough for Hanzo to grab her hand. He pulled her close with  aggressive force, and wrapped his arms around her to shield her from the remnants of the explosion.

     D.Va wasted no time making her way back to the Orca, whose jets were already roaring. The doors closed around them and sealed shut, as the waters began to rush into the evacuation chambers. The sound of rushing water and heavy breaths were all that could be heard, and barely, seeing as the deafening effects from the explosion had certainly taken its toll on their ear drums. But Hanzo felt another gentle tap on his back and looked down to see that he was still holding Mercy.

     She was smiling like a mad fool, and giggling with what he assumed to be pure adrenaline and shock. He let go of her slowly so that she could regain her footing on the floor, and then she let go of him in return, before moving to help him undo the cords that kept him bound to Tokki’s side. His feet were on the floor of the Orca, and for once he was actually happy for the feeling.

     “Ray, status?” Soldier: 76 asked.

     “We’re clear, Commander.”

     “Well done team. Mission - complete.”

Chapter Text

     “Thank you Eric! Today is certainly a day of celebration for the people of Korea. Thanks to the efforts of iconic hero Hana Song a.k.a. D.Va, the Omnic attacks have come to their final end. As it turns out, the Omnium was a moving factory beneath the water. It was disguised as a massive sea creature, that several individuals online claimed to be a monster. Investigations remain inconclusive thus far as to the allegations that this is the work of the terrorist group Null-Sector. But thanks to D.Va’s efforts, the people of Korea can feel safe again traveling outside, knowing there will not be another attack.”

     “As you can see, the people-” The reporter prattled on, but Hanzo turned off the live-feed with a dismissive wave of his hand, and the hologram blinked out of existence. He knew everything that he needed to know, and he certainly knew more than those reporters. The evacuation from the underwater omnium was frantic and frightful. Though the operation was a success, the initial bombing of the central core hadn’t destroyed all of the battle Omnics that terrorized the Yellow Sea. A few managed to escape from the wreckage, and came after the Orca with full force.

     It was a desperate rush back to the surface and up into the sky - and at quite the cost to his heart-rate. But once airborne, D.Va and Soldier: 76 made quick clean-up of the remaining Omnics. D.Va left the squadron to take the data they acquired on their mission back to the Korean military, after Soldier: 76 scrubbed it of any sign of Overwatch’s hand in the matter. Mercy ran post-op health checks on everyone, including herself. All vitals were clear. The mission was a total success.

     It was a relief for him to have accomplished this victory, after his pitiful display from the mission prior. He no longer slinked around the halls of the Gibraltar like a weary stray cat. Rather, he walked with a confident purpose; proud to have earned his membership with the team. But the thing that propelled him now, was a much more primal urge. In her gratitude, D.Va managed to smuggle back a few key ingredients from Korea, to help break the predictable monotony of the communal refrigerator. Perhaps that foolish girl was actually good for something.

     Hanzo dropped into a squat for the lower cabinets, reaching down for a pan and giving it a cautionary cleaning in the sink before taking it to the stove. It wasn’t quite large enough to qualify as a wok, but for the purposes of what he had in mind, it would do. Then he grabbed one of the nearby cutting boards from behind the knife rack, and placed it on the counter top before spinning to the refrigerator and grabbing a questionable amount of raw chicken thighs. Normally he would opt for the healthy white meat of the breast, but this was a victory meal; he earned this.
He sliced the chicken into thick indulgent chunks, and then grabbed a bowl from one of the upper cabinets. He looked about to make sure that he was alone, before reaching into the hiding place where he stashed D.Va’s ‘thank you,’ package, grabbing what he needed to make a tangy marinade. He moved with a calculated precision, blending together the sauces and herbs, and then whisking it all before neatly folding the raw chicken into the flavored base.

     It would need to soak for the moment to absorb the proper flavor, but this gave him time to neatly dice down a cabbage as a side with some flavor enhancing additives. Then he filled the pan knuckle deep with cooking oil, and waited with his nose for it to reach the correct temperature, all the while preparing the potato starch for the crunch of the chicken skin. From here on out, everything was done with chopsticks; grabbing the chicken from its marinade, rolling it in the starch and then frying it in the pan until it was the perfect shade of golden brown. 

     But then he heard sluggish uneven footsteps coming from around the corner, muffled by what he assumed to be… slippers . 

     He quickly grabbed D.Va’s stash from the countertop and hid it back where it wouldn’t be disturbed, before resuming his duties at the sizzling stove top. And then he heard the footsteps stop just at the door. “Am I in your way? I will be done momentarily,” he asked, keeping his eyes on his cooking. But there was no response, which caught him off guard. He turned around to see a woman in an oversized t-shirt and pajama bottoms standing in the doorway. Her dark brown hair was supposed to be in a bun, but a few messy strands fell from their structure around different parts of her head. She wore thick-framed glasses, but the spectacles did nothing to hide the expression on her face.

     She was staring open mouthed and eyes fixed at the chicken that he had resting on the draining rack. Hanzo just watched her as she looked at the food, until the moment had become entirely too awkward. He needed to break the tension. “Is…something wrong?”

     “Wh-what? Oh gosh, I am so sorry!” She blinked rapidly, with an expression similar to an Omnic on reboot, before gathering herself. “I completely forgot what I was doing. I came in here for hot chocolate, but then I smelled what you were cooking and I am suddenly realizing that…I-I have not eaten all day,” she said. He deduced by her accent that she was Chinese.

     “Forgive me. I do not mean to taunt you with my meal,” Hanzo said, well aware of the sinister sway that the aroma from cooking has on an empty stomach. “I will be done shortly.”

     “No no, please, take all the time that you need. I only need the electric kettle,” she said, opening a nearby cabinet and standing on her tip-toes to grab a mug. “I don’t think we have been introduced. I’m Mei. Er…that is… Dr. Mei-Ling Zhou. But please - call me Mei,” she said with a cheerful tone. 

     “Hanzo,” he replied, finishing up the next batch of karaage. 

     “Are you new? Or maybe I just haven’t been out here in a while. I’m not usually required for missions in the field. I spend most of my time in the lab. So it’s possible that I have simply missed you this entire time,” she said, preparing her own mug of hot-chocolate. 

     “I am new. I have only recently been added to the team, at Genji’s recommendation,” he replied, removing his chicken from the sizzling oil with a strainer, and giving it a gentle rolling toss.

     “Oh, you are friends with Genji! Well, it is nice to meet you Hanzo,” she said with a smile, and then turned her attention to her brew. Hanzo worked alongside her in silence for the moment, putting together his last batch before plating his dish. He paused with an exhale, while in the inner workings of his mind he urged himself to see this interaction through. It behooved him to try to exercise his social skills. So far, she seemed to be less objectionable company than either D.Va or Cassidy, which was a triumph.

     “Would you-“ he began, before second guessing himself. But he hated the taste of fear in his mouth, and decided to push past it. “Would you do me the kindness of trying my cooking? I have only ever cooked for myself, so I am not impartial in my evaluation of the taste.” 

     “Sure!” Her emphatic response was accented with the click of the kettle that reached its boiling point. She removed it, before turning to him. Hanzo assembled a quick plate of chicken, with a portion of chopped cabbage, a cherry tomato garnish, and a slice of lemon. She took the plate with both of her hands and a quiet ‘thank you,’ and then reached into a nearby drawer for a pair of chopsticks. He watched her blow on the chicken quietly, before taking a bite. “Mm! Oh my goodness!”  

     Hanzo paused and braced himself for sharp criticism. “It is double fried for the crunch, but I fear I may have gone overboard with the soy sauce in the marinade. But I would appreciate your honesty.”

     “No, this is delicious! Wow!” Mei looked as if she wanted to continue speaking, but she shoved another bite into her mouth instead. Hanzo fought the urge to smile. Words of platitude were one thing, but actions were a better show of honest appreciation. And judging from how urgently she was devouring this scalding hot chicken, he assumed he did well. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

     “ViewTube. Please do not feel obligated to eat it unless you truly enjoy it. But if you wish, that plate is yours,” Hanzo said, plating what remained of his cooking, before disposing of the oil and then cleaning the pots, pans, and dishes that he used. 

     “Oh, thank you! Um, I’m not sure how to repay you for this. I could make you a mug of hot chocolate, if you like?” Hanzo cringed at the offer. 

     “Forgive me. I find it too sweet,” he said, but then he saw her eyes droop down and he felt a knot of guilt in his stomach. It wasn’t like him to concern himself with the entertainment of others, but there was something about this girl that he simply couldn’t turn away. He searched the corners of his brain to find a way to recoup the conversation. <<Perhaps…you would allow me to practice my Mandarin, in exchange?>> Hanzo asked in Chinese, turning to look at her as he dried the freshly washed pans and dishes. Thankfully the light returned to her eyes.

     <<Of course, I’d be happy to! Where did you learn?>> She asked, pouring in the hot water from the electric kettle into her mug.

     <<I was taught several languages in my time as a child. My parents employed individual educators for different subjects. But it has been a long time since I have practiced Mandarin.>> Hanzo heard Mei’s giggle and winced. <<Is it bad? Did I say something incorrect?>>

     <<No, you’re doing great. It’s just very formal, and you sound foreign. I can tell that you learned in class.>> Hanzo sighed, but Mei continued. <<But I hope I haven’t discouraged you. I’m very impressed. I think with practice, you’ll be a natural.>> She smiled, and he averted his gaze. This woman’s positivity was infectious. It made him uncomfortable, in a comfortable way. 

     <<For your encouragement, I thank you.>>

     <<Would you join me for dinner? I…could actually really use your assistance with a personal study of mine.>> Mei asked with her emotional eyebrows and gentle brown eyes, and Hanzo’s own eyes widened. 

     <<Certainly. But I do not have much proficiency with science.>>

      <<It isn't lab-work or experimentation, so much as I have a few questions to ask you for my research.>> Hanzo winced, as his fears came to the forefront of his mind. This was a trap to get him to talk about assaulting his brother after all. He was nervous, but he knew he would have to answer for his actions eventually. Mei gathered her mug and plate and walked toward the door. <<Do you mind following me to the lab?>>

     <<It would be my pleasure,>> he replied, though his tone didn’t match the expression. He grabbed his plate and a glass of water, and followed after her.

     <<I hope you’ll forgive how forward this is…>> Mei began, and Hanzo braced himself. <<But I happened to catch a glimpse at your wrist when you offered me the plate. And I noticed that you…don’t have a soulmate mark.>> Hanzo stopped in his tracks. He was both relieved that he wasn’t going to be interrogated about his attempted murder, but shocked at the new subject matter at hand. “Oh no! It is too forward, isn’t it? Have I made you uncomfortable? I sincerely apologize,” Mei said, switching back to English.

     <<No,>> Hanzo said, deliberately switching back to Mandarin. <<No I am not offended. I simply did not think that you were going to ask that. I have not given the subject much thought,>> he confessed, and then moved to keep in toe with her as they made their way to the Gibraltar science labs. Mei opened the doors with a wave of her hand upon approach. 

     Hanzo looked around the room, seeing the individual desks for different members of the team. He found Mercy’s desk immediately, seeing it riddled with medical and biological references and photos of herself and her loved ones. Then there was Winston’s station - a chaotic collage of astro-physics equations, along with contact references and poorly concealed snacks. There were several other stations as well; some still decorated even though it was clear they hadn’t been used in quite some time. But many of them were now rendered inactive. Hanzo assumed it was due to Overwatch’s disbandment after the Petras Act. 

     Mei grabbed a spare chair and brought it over to her station for him to sit with her. Her station was neatly organized with different sticky-note reminders and quick formulas written down for her reference. She kept it clean and pristine, despite the fact that they were eating here now. There were little trinkets that made it clear that she was from Xi’an, and from what he gathered she was very passionate about climate change and the environment, given the  motivational memorabilia. 

     She was unfortunately very cute . 

     <<Do you mind if I continue?>> She asked, gesturing to the chair and beckoning him to sit as she sat. 

     <<No, I do not mind,>> he replied, taking a seat and holding up his plate with his left hand, while using his chopsticks in his right to grab at the cabbage. Mei smiled and took another bite as well. 

     <<Thank you. I know it can be a delicate subject, so I truly didn’t mean to intrude. But soulmate research is actually something of a hobby of mine. Like a pet-project. I’m putting together my own thesis in regards to how it works. I find it fascinating, seeing as it’s been around as long as we have, even though we know very little about it conclusively. Different cultures and civilizations have each had their own ideas in regards to how it works, but it’s my goal to decipher it entirely. Oh, I’m sorry. Am I talking too fast?>> She asked, catching herself in the onslaught of a tumbling rant.

     <<No.>> He lied. In truth he understood the overall gist of what she was saying, but if he were asked to repeat it, he’d be caught like a deer on the express-way. <<However I do not see how I can be of help.>>

     <<I want to ask you a few questions about yourself. Like your story!>> He fought the urge to cringe. <<How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?>>

     <<Thirty eight.>> He winced, knowing where she was headed with this conversation.

     <<Aha! Okay! It isn’t unheard of to not have yours by now, but it is uncommon. Most people have theirs somewhere around twenty-five or twenty-six on average. Though there have certainly been cases of people not receiving theirs until well into their seventies and eighties. Did you know - most everyone here at Overwatch has theirs already. But I don’t have mine yet,>> she confessed, showing her wrist with a disappointed smile. 

     Hanzo recalled to himself that during their shower encounter, he noticed that Cassidy didn’t have a mark either. He wondered if Mei had already broached the subject with the cowboy. <<And how old are you, if I may ask? Certainly not my age.>>

     << Technically I’m thirty one. There is certainly time, and I do not intend to derail my life looking for my soulmate, but I am more curious about how and why it happens than I am about who mine will be. Does that make sense? In my culture, we were always taught that it was our ancestors guiding us to advantageous marriages of prosperity and healthy children. But now that soulmate discussion is more socially acceptable, homosexual couples have revealed natural tattoos. And research into suspected homosexuals of the past has concluded that they too had marks that they kept hidden for survival. That disproves the notion that this would be for children, or families.>>

     Hanzo’s brow raised as he took another bite of his food. He would never admit it, but this topic did fascinate him whenever it came up. But his attention was  divided by the dinner plate he was making his way through, and the cryptic way that Mei answered his question. <<Technically?>>

     Mei paused in a way that let Hanzo know they were moving into uncomfortable territory, but she continued before he could stop her. << I was a member of the first Overwatch initiative, although I wasn’t a soldier. I was one of the scientists, stationed in Antarctica for research into climatology and global warming. We were looking into cryo-stasis as a means of ->> she began, but then she saw the panicked look in Hanzo’s eyes, and remembered she wasn’t talking to a native speaker. She was throwing a lot of advanced terms at him at once. She changed her statement. <<We were caught in a storm, and we froze ourselves for nine years. I was the only one who survived. Technically I am forty. But my body is thirty one because I was frozen.>>

     Hanzo paused, unsure of how to proceed now. Not only was that explanation a lot to process in terms of science, but he could tell that she had just dropped a heavy confession onto him. Grief wasn’t a stranger to him; they were damn near bedmates. But comforting someone else in their grief was not a task he was suited to. <<I am sorry for what happened. Would it be better to resume speaking about soulmate marks? In my culture we were simply taught that our soulmates were who we were going to spend our lives with someday. A ->> he paused not knowing what to say. 

     “Happily ever after?” Mei asked, correctly deducing that Hanzo didn’t know how to say it in Mandarin. Hanzo simply nodded. <<Happily ever after,>> she answered with a laugh, and Hanzo relaxed, having steered away from having to attempt cliche comforts in a foreign language. 

     <<Thank you. I remember when Genji received his mark. That was how my mother explained it.>>

     <<Oh, you were there? I asked Genji about his story long ago. It was actually him and Angela that led to quite a few breakthroughs in my research, because they were a matching pair and they received theirs so young. They told me that he was seven, and that she was nine when it happened. And they both remembered where they were,>> Mei explained, before taking another bite of her dinner. 

     <<Genji is my younger brother,>> Hanzo finally confessed, waiting for the punch of her judgment.

     <<Oh! I would never have guessed. You look nothing alike. Sorry - is that rude?>> She asked, cheeks chubby with bites of unfinished food. Hanzo shook his head.

     <<No. His appearance is similar to my mother. I do not.>> 

     <<Ah, you would say that like this - he looks like our mom. I don’t.>> Mei corrected, and Hanzo nodded, repeating the expression back to her. <<Yes perfect! You’re a fast learner, Hanzo!>>

     <<We were in our math studies together, when the pain ripped into his wrist, and then we saw the tattoo. The parties and celebrations came shortly after,>> Hanzo recounted, nimbly dodging Mei’s attempt at praising him. <<He cried.>>

     Mei giggled. <<Everyone says it hurts, but Mercy says she didn’t cry.>> Hanzo couldn’t contain the laugh that slipped out of his throat. <<But like I was saying - their story makes me think that perhaps it is much simpler than we think it is. I don’t think it has anything to do with children, or marriage, or happily ever afters. I think we receive our soulmate marks once we’ve decided who we are going to be. Or maybe once we realize what our purpose is, and we move towards it. And that our soulmate is someone who furthers that purpose.>>

     Hanzo paused, taking in what she said. He had heard similar sayings, but nothing so direct and to the point. <<That is an interesting idea. Though the implications are frightful.>>

     <<Why is that, may I ask?>> Mei asked, taking a final bite of her dinner, before setting aside the plate. 

     <<Using Genji and Mercy as an example - we know that soulmates receive their marks at the same time. If we do not receive our marks until each of us finds our purpose, or decides who we are going to be, then one person could be stuck waiting for the other.>>

     << Exactly . In fact, I believe that that’s what’s happening to anyone who hasn’t received theirs yet. Someone is waiting for someone else to actualize themselves. Tell me, as Genji’s older brother, has Genji changed much? Since he was a child? Or has he always been who he is?>>

     Hanzo felt his heart seize for a moment. Images and flashbacks of Genji ripped through his mind. He had certainly been through the lion’s share of trauma, but in truth his younger brother had only ever been himself for the entirety of his life. He may have been guided off course by an event every now and again, but at his core…Genji was Genji . He couldn’t be anyone else.

     <<He has always been Genji. Ever since he was born.>> Hanzo answered, and Mei smiled.

     <<I figured! He comes off that way. He was a little stand-offish when we first met. But now that I know him, I notice his consistency. Meanwhile, Angela received her mark when she decided to become a doctor. She said it happened once she received her entrance letter into school.>> Mei explained, and Hanzo put the pieces together in his mind, realizing that Mercy started studying medicine at the tender age of ten years old.

     <<So you think that Genji was waiting on Angela. And that it just so happens that Angela did not make him wait long?>>

      << Precisely! Though there are other variables that call my theory into question. For example - Winston has yet to receive a soulmate mark, although he has achieved sentience. And there haven’t been any Omnics that have received any either, outside of those who have carved them into their bodies manually. So it does imply that the subject would have to be homosapien at the very least. And some people have fallen in love with people or even Omnics outside of their soulmate marks as well. Many believe that love should be a choice. So maybe it isn’t even about love. Maybe it’s just someone you are absolutely supposed to meet…>> Mei trailed off, and then turned on her computer to jot down notes. Hanzo saw that she had an entire folder dedicated to the subject. 

     He was curious, but he was reaching the limits of his social battery. And the new theory was bringing dark questions to the front of his mind. He decided that now would be the moment to make his exit. <<May I take your plate, doctor?>> Hanzo asked. 

     <<Oh, you don’t have to, really! I can take it back.>> Mei answered, now embarrassed at how quickly she jumped into her notes in the presence of company. 

     <<It is no trouble. You have given me much to think about, but I am afraid I need a moment alone with my thoughts,>> Hanzo said, looking away from her emotional gaze.

     <<Oh no. Have I upset you?>> Mei asked, and he could hear the honesty in her voice despite the language barrier. 

     <<Not at all. It is just…if what you say is true, I may be…delaying my soulmate’s happiness.>>

     <<O-oh. Oh I’m…so sorry. Sometimes my research kind of takes over. I don’t always realize how painful my discoveries can be, until it’s too late,>> she confessed, and her shoulders slumped. 

     <<Please do not apologize. You have bestowed wisdom upon me, and for that I am most grateful. Thank you. May I speak with you again in the future?>> Hanzo asked, reaching to grab her plate. She handed it to him with a smile. 

     <<It is my hope that we do, and soon. Thank you for dinner, Han-AH!>> she yelped, and dropped her plate onto the ground. Hanzo froze once the ceramic cracked on impact. He looked from the floor over to Mei with concerned eyes. She had her hand clasped over her wrist and hissed with a wince. 

     “Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Hanzo asked, switching back to English and dropping to a knee. He quickly gathered the broken pieces and set them aside so that she wouldn’t step on them. 

     “I-I don’t know. Something just hit my… wrist …” Mei began, and then she realized what she said. She looked to Hanzo with a knowing panic, and he returned the expression back to her.  Hanzo helped her to roll back her sleeve, and she slowly removed her hand. In the crook of her wrist were two neatly written initials in black. А.З. “W-what? A… three ?” Mei asked, blinking at her wrist in disbelief. "What in the world?” She held her wrist up at an angle and moved it about, as if expecting it to shift in the light.

     “May I?” Hanzo asked, and Mei tilted her wrist to him. He held her hand gently and narrowed his eyes at the signature. “I am not an expert, but if I recall correctly, the Russian Alphabet has a character that resembles a three, but it is pronounced like the roman letter Z. I’m sure that Athena could verify it for you, if you trust the software,” Hanzo said, letting go of her wrist.

     “A…Z? Like Angela Ziegler? But Angela is already soulmates with Genji! Oh, but…but you’re saying whoever it is…they might be Russian! Oh wow!” Mei’s blush rippled over her cheeks as she stared at her wrist in wonder. Hanzo smiled ever so briefly, before gathering the remaining pieces on the floor. 

     “I am sorry. This sort of event should happen in better company. But it appears you will have to settle for me. Congratulations Mei. I know we have only just met, but I do hope that whoever they are, they are worthy of you,” he said, and she beamed up to him with teary eyes and giggled in a way that shattered the armor over his heart. 

     “Hanzo, thank you! It's so strange. We were only just talking about this a minute ago, and now...Oh my goodness! I-I have to call my family!” She said, scrambling to start a call over the webcam. He panicked internally, not ready to meet her family and be stuck recounting the story. 

     “I will give you privacy,” he said, before turning to leave. On the way out he heard the beginnings of Mei’s conversation with her parents, and the sound of their cheers. He was happy for her. She seemed kind. He closed the hatchet door to give her her moment with her family. If she wanted to alert the rest of the crew, this would give her the opportunity to do so on her own time. 

     As he walked, his eyes fell to the blank spot on his wrist, and the lingering question of Mei’s thesis bounced against the walls of his mind. He had never heard it phrased that way. That perhaps he wouldn’t have his soulmate mark until he figured out what he was supposed to do. But that didn’t make sense either. He knew what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to be the head of the Shimada family, and carry on his father’s legacy. He just abandoned that purpose. 

     Perhaps then his soulmate simply hadn’t found her purpose. Perhaps she was scatterbrained and wayward. He sighed to himself that such a personage would be a fitting contrast to his own rigidity. He let the thought keep his attention as he washed the plates and chopsticks and scrubbed them dry. He hadn’t thought about a soulmate in a long time. It was a frivolous concern that distracted him from more important matters. 

     But as he left the kitchen, the questions resurfaced again. Who was he really? Separated from the clan - from Genji - from his purpose…what remained? What is it that he’s supposed to do now? The questions posed themselves in the vacancy of his mind, only to fall in the silence behind his eyes. He didn’t know the answers. He never bothered asking. Perhaps in the abandonment of his family, he abandoned his soulmate too? Or maybe she was already dead?

     His downward spiral came to a screeching halt, when he locked eyes with his cyborg brother, pressed against the wall outside of central headquarters. Genji looked up to him, wearing a slouchy green beanie and gray sweats, that hid his armor. He brought a finger to his mouth in a shushing motion and gestured his head to the side, beckoning Hanzo to come closer in a stealthy manner. Hanzo understood wordlessly, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet and stalking forward silently. 

     He leaned up against the other side of the door, facing Genji so they could eavesdrop together. Two people were arguing. It was hard to hear because of the noise cancelling on the doors, but from what he could deduce…it was Cassidy and Mercy. He couldn’t make out the entirety of what they were saying, but Mercy was insistent and urgent in her tone, while Cassidy was condescending and stubborn. Something was mentioned about… bed-rest and… professional opinion . There was another sound of protest, but then the bass of Winston’s voice interrupted the argument’s volley. 

     Hanzo looked to Genji with his eyebrows furrowed, Genji whispered back to him in Japanese. <<I think Cassidy was hurt. Angela is having him suspended on mandatory medical leave.>> Hanzo listened harder then. Genji’s context added clarity to the source of the conflict. If Mercy could fix injuries in the blink of an eye, there was no reason for Cassidy to take the time off. But he also knew how she felt about the abuse of hastened healing. If used irresponsibly, it shortened the overall life-span.

     Then he heard Cassidy say something to the effect of… ridiculous . Making out words through the steel walls was difficult, but judging from the intonation of Winston’s voice, the argument would soon come to a close. Hanzo looked at Genji. <<We should scatter, unless you want to be seen,>> he warned, and Genji spun off the door and made his way down the hall. Hanzo went the other way to his own room, and turned the corner just as he heard the hatch open, and a pair of thick-soled boots came thumping out of Winston’s headquarters.

     Curiosity itched at the back of his neck, but it didn’t outweigh the fatigue from the day’s events with Mei. Especially if they were going to end up having a party in her honor. Hanzo made himself scarce, stepping off to his own room and closing the hatch, before Cassidy could see him.

Chapter Text

     “Agent D-23: Hanzo. Your presence is requested by Agent T-41: Winston, in central operations. Do you require directions to central operations?”

     Hanzo’s eyes widened. He’d been in the middle of a historic account on the line of succession of Japan’s royal family, with a cup of tea and subtle incense to keep him company. He was doing his best to give in to the moment, but the truth was that he’d become restless. Somewhere along the line of his survival protocols, he had forgotten how to properly relax. These extra steps were necessary for him to lower his hackles and relinquish his guard. 

     Athena’s notification hologram hung obstinately in front of him, and bright enough to guide a ship to harbor. He replied “no. I will be there momentarily.” The hologram blinked out of his vicinity, and he assumed Athena went to convey his message. He moved over to his closet, disrobing from his bed-wear and changing into a blue long sleeved t-shirt and black slacks. He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror, and then headed out, by now having mapped the entirety of the watchpoint in order to properly locate all of the exits. 

     The hallway was bleakly lit by alternating fluorescent lights as always, but it was empty. He purposely let the heels of his shoes click on the floor, no longer bothering to censor his cadence. An official summons either meant a mission, or a problem, both of which required his immediate attention. He wouldn’t be belayed with the tantalizations of small talk. 

     He turned the corner, and then signaled for Athena to open the door for central operations, where he found Winston locked in a conversation with Ana. Winston immediately looked over to his entrance and announced his presence. “Hanzo, thank you for the rapid response.”

     “Of course,” he replied, taking a few steps closer to lessen the gap between the three of them. 

     “Hanzo, please forgive me. I’m struggling to find the appropriate way to conduct myself here. When I made the call to bring back Overwatch, I did so with nothing but good intentions. The people need us, and at our core we’re here to help. And that’s exactly what I want us to be doing.” Hanzo watched as Winston nervously gestured with his thick ape fingers and continuously averted gaze. 

     “But, well…before I knew it, I had been thrust into a position of leadership. I-I’m a scientist first, before I’m any kind of soldier or combatant, and I know that there are certainly better options,-“

     “Winston.” Ana’s interruption was quiet, but sharp. Winston flinched and rolled his lips over his teeth. “Everyone here loves you. Everyone here believes in what you believe in. That’s why we all answered when you called. Get rid of that doubt. Believe in yourself.” 

     “Y-yes Captain,” Winston said, with a cough to clear his throat. “Hanzo, it is with a heavy heart that I have to task you with something of a clandestine mission. It must remain between the three of us only. Before we go any further, I’ll need you to agree or disagree. But you’re well within your rights to turn this down,” Winston said. 

     Hanzo looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but honesty and concern. Then he lowered his own gaze for a moment, considering. “What more can you tell me, before I agree?”

     "You may be tasked with the detainment or elimination of a person of interest, during a solo-mission where you will be given a faux operation as an explanation. But that is all that I can say,” Winston sighed and looked away. Hanzo could tell that Winston was entirely uncomfortable with every inch of this transaction. Much too soft for leadership. 

     But it was admirable all the same.

     “I accept,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. Ana smiled from behind Winston’s gaze, but Winston’s brow only furrowed. 

     “Are you certain? This has to remain confidential, so I wouldn’t blame you if this were too much too soon,” Winston urged, seemingly trying to convince Hanzo to change his mind. 

     “Why me? Why not Captain Amari?” It was a valid question. Ana was as fit as a fiddle, and he’d seen it with his own eyes. She moved like a woman one fourth her age, and perhaps even better given the circumstances. 

     “If I thought I could, then I would. But I am compromised,” Ana explained, and then left it at precisely that. Hanzo paused for one more moment, and then repeated.

     “I accept.”

     Winston blinked and sighed, letting the air out of his chest before resuming eye contact and continuing onward. “Hanzo, how much do you know about former Overwatch commander Gabriel Reyes?” 

     Hanzo could put the name to the face, but beyond that there wasn’t much else. He remembered mentions of some of his operations in the media, and faint rumors of a rivalry or jealousy between him and Soldier: 76. But that was all. His death was presumed, but his body was never found. “Not much. I recognize his picture, but nothing more.

     “Gabriel, Jack, and I were among the founding members of the first Overwatch initiative, along with Gerard LeCroix and a few others. But the three of us were something of a trio, when we first began. We worked together, and then brought others under us, welcoming them to the initiative in efforts to make the world a better place. Like Angela, and your brother,” Ana explained. Hanzo nodded to indicate that he was paying attention, now turning to face her in full. 

     “But of course, as Overwatch grew, problems and complications rose alongside it. Gabriel was initially our commander in chief, but he developed a habit of operating outside of mission parameters, and taking unnecessary risks to complete our missions. Often at the cost of lives. Conversely, Jack led several missions to the letter, and without any unnecessary casualties. It wasn’t long before our benefactors made the decision to supplant Gabriel with Jack. And Gabriel didn’t take it well,” Ana explained. Hanzo had been no stranger to the ego that comes with leadership. There was a quiet part of him that felt for Gabriel, knowing enough to know that there was probably more to the story. 

     He nodded again while listening to Ana speak. But his eyes kept moving between her and Winston, as he waited for the dots to connect. In his mind, he assumed they found Reyes, and he was being sent to kill him. Ana continued. “As something of a peace-offering, Jack offered a counter-proposal to our benefactors to make Gabriel the Commander of Blackwatch - a sub-division of Overwatch that led off the books missions that required a stronger hand and operated in shadow. Our benefactors accepted, and Gabriel formed his team, consisting primarily of Genji-“ Hanzo’s heart thumped hard in his chest.

     But Ana continued on and he resumed breathing “Dr. Moira O’deorain, and Cassidy.” Hanzo’s eyebrows raised at the mention of the cowboy. He had mentioned that he and Genji went on missions together frequently. “Cole was personally groomed by Gabriel as a mentee. Gabriel was the one who convinced Cole to enlist with Overwatch and give up his life of crime with the Deadlock Gang. Cole looks to Gabriel as something of an older brother. Perhaps even a father.” Hanzo swallowed. He could tell where this was going. 

     “You need me to eliminate him?” Hanzo asked. He had taken on many a task like this in his lifetime. It wasn’t beyond his capability, and he knew enough to know that both Winston and Ana knew that. But Winston stepped forward. 

     “Hanzo, do you remember the clip I showed you of the night that I was attacked?” Hanzo nodded. “The shadowy figure, dressed like the Grim Reaper? We…have reason to believe that that is indeed Gabriel Reyes,” Winston said, and Hanzo lifted his brow with astonishment. “If our leads are correct, he has since aligned himself with the terrorist organization Talon, and is making efforts to reignite a war between humans and Omnics.” The concession of information hit Hanzo like a bucket of ice water. His eyes darted about as he retreated into comprehension. 

     “It breaks my heart to think this of Gabriel, but the truth is it isn’t outside of his character. If it turns out that we are correct, then Gabriel has made his choice, and whatever happens from here, has to happen with that in mind. But Cole’s loyalty…though never questioned before…now hangs in the balance,” Ana explained. 

     “During their last mission, Cassidy was hurt. Dr. Ziegler was able to bandage him together, but the wound was severe enough that she elected to put him on mandatory medical suspension. Initially I backed her assertion; she's our chief medical expert. But there is a chance that Cassidy was hurt on purpose , and that he anticipated Dr. Ziegler’s reaction,” Winston explained. 

     “Cassidy is being deployed to his home in Texas for rest, but I’ve been gathering intel on Talon’s members. One of their operatives is a talented computer hacker who goes by the name Sombra. We received comms from one of our allies in Russia that Sombra is based in Mexico. There is a chance that Cole will try to slip away and meet up with her during this time, and potentially enlist with Talon,” Ana stated. 

     The room went still. It was clear now why they needed him to agree to the mission, before giving him all of the details. He couldn’t tell anyone about any of this. Not even his brother, since they worked together on Blackwatch. Winston broke the tension. 

     “Cole Cassidy is a dear friend. He has put his life on the line more times than I can count. I trust him with every fiber of my being. But…if I’m wrong… he knows too much ,” Winston urged, desperate to exonerate himself. Hanzo shook his head. 

     “I accept and agree to this mission. You need not explain. It is a matter of security and protection. We will hope that you are wrong, but if you are correct, trust that I will see it done,” Hanzo said. Winston looked to Ana and then looked back to Hanzo with a heavy and wary nod. Hanzo understood now why Ana had been so compromised. Cassidy called her his ‘mama bear.’ To know that, and then take his life - even in protection of others - would be entirely unforgivable. He would know.

     “Thank you, Hanzo, for your understanding and your discretion. You’ll be given a fake mission - investigating a potential lead on an illegal arm’s deal to Null Sector, while also being deployed as a bodyguard to Cassidy in the event that he is sought upon by the deadlock gang. He will be instructed to comply with your protection for the time being. Your real mission will be encrypted into the fake mission briefing under password protection. We’ll give you the password with the file, and decryption instructions should you need it, but it’s all a recap of everything we’ve just said here,” Winston said, and Hanzo nodded. 

     “When do we leave?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Forty-eight hours. We’ll arrange a civilian flight,” Winston answered.

     “Understood,” Hanzo said. Ana walked forward and gently rested a hand on his shoulder.

     “I’m sorry to put you in this position, Hanzo.” Her voice warbled with her age. This was weighing on her dreadfully. Hanzo looked her in the eye, doing his best to soften his expression for her comfort. 

     “I am honored you considered me. I will not fail,” Hanzo reassured her. 

     “No. I am saddened by the certainty that if it comes to it…you will succeed,” Ana said. And with that, she walked by him without another word. Hanzo listened and waited for the door to central operations to open and close with her exit. Winston did the same.

     “Athena, begin download sequence,” Winston instructed. Hanzo watched as Athena started the download into a data chip. The two of them stood together in grim uncomfortable silence, knowing that somewhere in that encrypted text was a literal instructed death sentence for Cole Cassidy. When the sequence completed, Winston grabbed the data chip, and walked to Hanzo in his tri-stepped gait. Hanzo took the chip, and nodded downward with his head, before turning to leave. 

     In the reflection of the glass screen board of equations, he saw Winston slump back onto his rear, and bury his face into his palms while rocking back and forth. Hanzo averted his gaze and continued outward. He would allow Winston the privacy to repent. 

*****

     He woke for the early rise, and made himself a cup of caffeinated tea, sealing it in a stainless steel tumbler for the road. He had been to America a few times, both during his years with the Shimada, and when he became a freelance assassin. But never the American south. From what he researched, his heavy winter garments wouldn’t be necessary for this trip. Instead it was better to bring light garments and items that give shade to protect from the sun. 

     He went over his bow and arrow, giving it a routine maintenance inspection. The draw weight was appropriate, the compact gears turned as intended, and the structure, though well used, showed no signs of collapse. Everything was clear. Should the need arise, he would be ready to take action. 

     Grabbing his bag and his briefcase, he turned to look around his room, making sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything important. But the mental assessment deemed him travel ready, so he turned to walk out of the hatch and instructed Athena to power everything down and lock his door upon exit. He heard her initiate the protocol the moment he cleared the archway. 

     The halls were thankfully empty again, but he would be concerned if he saw someone roaming them at four o’clock in the morning. He could hear the faint buzz of the lights as he made his way down the complicated maze of turns and angles. Then once he made it to the main entrance, he commanded it to open with a wave of his hand, and stepped out into the cover of the dark black sky. 

     It was cold. Cold in the way that it can only be in the dead of the night. The air caught his loose hanging strand of hair that refused to stay in its bun, and blew it out of his face as he walked out onto the tarmac. Cassidy was already there. He stood in place, smoking his cigar that gave off an enhanced red light against the black backdrop. Hanzo could see the outlines of the smoke that wisped away from the burning end for a moment until it blended in with the starless aether. He wore his usual get-up - an oversized and overly dramatic cowboy hat, combined with serape and all. But he wasn’t wearing his armor, and his weapon was effectively concealed. 

     There was no point in maintaining the distance any longer. Hanzo was only instructed to detain or assassinate Cassidy if he confirmed signs of deflection from Overwatch. For the remainder of this mission, he would be a glorified babysitter. The notion conjured forth the veins on his forehead in an unflattering manner. As he approached, Cassidy turned to greet him, feigning as if he hadn’t seen him there. “Well well, my buddy Hanzo in the dark of night,” Cassidy announced and Hanzo dutifully ignored him. “How ya feelin’? Pretty tired, I imagine.” 

     “I’m fine,” Hanzo said, deliberately keeping his response clipped and crisp. Cassidy faced him with a raised eyebrow and a lazy smirk. 

     “Aw come on now. Don’t act like we ain’t friends. You know I’m your favorite,” Cassidy teased, and Hanzo looked away, letting that comment fall flat to the floor. “It’s gonna be a long ride, Han. Even longer if you act like this the entire time.” 

     “Cassidy, it is four fifteen in the morning. You will forgive me if I am not in the mood for frivolous small talk,” Hanzo said, looking about. “How exactly is this supposed to work?” Hanzo asked, turning to face Cassidy, who tapped a little excess off of his cigar. 

     “Car should be pulling up any minute now. It’s gonna drive us to the airport. Winston should’ve given you your fake ID to make sure we ain’t followed.” Cassidy explained before taking another pull. Hanzo held up his card. 

     “Koichi Tarou,” He said. 

     “Earl Thompkins,” Cassidy replied with a tip of his hat. Hanzo took a sip of his tea, grateful for the internal warmth and the heat against his lips. But Cassidy wouldn’t let him have a moment. “So, you gonna tell me what they got you doing out here? No way they sent you just to look after me. They’d’ve sent the doc.”

     “Reconnaissance. They think they know where the Omnic terrorists are getting their weapons. I’m going to confirm, but I’ll be staying with you for the time being as well, to make sure you do not reopen your wounds,” Hanzo said. The lie fell too easily from his mouth. He would examine that later.

     “They worry too much. All I’m gonna do is a little light yard work. Taking it easy is my specialty,” Cassidy said. In his time with the Shimada, Hanzo had been trained to scan for tells of falsehood. If Cassidy was lying, he didn’t have an obvious show. 

     “Then this will be quiet, and quick,” Hanzo said, hoping to bring the conversation to a close. In the distance he saw a pair of headlights creeping up the tarmac, until a black car revealed itself, and came around to the two of them. When the car parked, Cassidy grabbed his own luggage and walked around to the trunk. Hanzo did the same, the two of them storing their bags and briefcase, before moving to the back seat. 

     “All set, sirs?”

     “Take ‘er away,” Cassidy instructed the driver, and the car pulled off smoothly. “On the plus side, that does mean we’ll be at some good ol’ Texas watering holes. I might be able to get you to try a couple quality brands while we’re away,” Cassidy said, with that same smirk in his eye as he looked at Hanzo.

     “You are on medical leave. What part of that includes whiskey and moonshine?” Hanzo chided. 

     “I like to think of wellness as an all encompassing sort of thing. Mind, body, and spirit. You need a spirit for the spirit.” Hanzo couldn’t fight this one. He rolled his eyes so hard the muscles in his sockets strained. Rather than indulge him any further, he took a page out of Mercy’s book and clipped on a very demonstrative pair of ear-buds to let Cassidy know he was no longer in the spirit of conversation. 

     Fortunately Cassidy took the hint, and instead just leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Now that he was seated, Hanzo could see the outline of the bandages beneath his shirt. He had been hit near the ribs. Mercy must have opted for traditional healing, rather than hastened. Hanzo wondered to himself if that had anything to do with Cassidy’s missing arm. But he decided against asking, preferring the silence of the ride to enjoy what remained of his tea. He watched the outdoor surroundings pass by from the window scene by scene, listening to soft music and losing himself in the voyage. The moment gave him space to reflect. 

     It was certainly a rare occasion, but Genji had actually been right. Now that he aligned himself with Overwatch, the knots in his stomach gave slack. He could rest at the Gibraltor and in this car, knowing that he wouldn’t be attacked by assassins or sought upon by former liaisons looking to cut ties. He had time to do things like simply look out the window, and actually see the world around him. 

     But at the same time, it was telling that as soon as he came to Overwatch, he was being handed the missions requiring stealth and lethality. Genji’s cyborg body appeared to be a prison to Hanzo, but sightings of him online likened him to a vigilante of sorts that little boys looked up to. It would be frowned upon if the local super-hero were to be discovered taking a life. No, that would be Hanzo’s duty. 

     It was always his duty. 

     Along with his presence came the unwelcome tag-along of unfortunate necessity. And now it was seeping its way into Overwatch. He thought to himself that he had a unique and special way of ruining everything, which now included Genji’s safeholds. He looked in the window at the reflection of Cassidy; resting but not asleep. If push came to shove, and he did have to shove, then this would be his last mission with Overwatch. Genji deserved a place where his darkness didn’t follow. 

     The time passed quickly. He came back to his senses as he approached the airport.  The driver took them to the gate, and then moved to open their doors for them, but Cassidy opened his own and stepped out, and then Hanzo did the same. They grabbed their bags from the trunk and made their way through the airport chaos to board their plane. 

     Winston splurged and bought them first class seats. Hanzo assumed it was done out of guilt. Coach was best for flying incognito. But he certainly wouldn’t complain about extra leg-room and body space. He took the window seat, wiping it down with a sanitation wipe to rid it of its germs. To his horror and dismay, Cassidy eased into the unwiped chair next to him facing the aisle. 

     Hanzo made a face, but Cassidy paid him no mind, instead trying to get the attention of a passing stewardess and charming his way into a whiskey coke. The stewardess flirted back with him in an unsubtle way, and Hanzo shook his head and rolled his eyes. He settled into his seat, feeling the beginnings of his pre-flight panic begin to well up within him. His knee began to rock from side to side unconsciously. 

     “Y’alright?” Cassidy’s voice broke his trance. Hanzo looked at him, and Cassidy gestured to his leg. Hanzo stopped abruptly. 

     “I’m fine.” 

     “Big bad Koichi’s scared of flying?” Cassidy teased. 

     “No. My sleep schedule has been interrupted. It is an unappealing tell of fatigue,” Hanzo lied. Cassidy glanced at him a moment longer. 

     “ Riiiight . Well, after we see the sunrise I’ll be out like a light. Might as well catch some shut-eye yourself. It’s an eleven hour flight,” Cassidy drawled. The stewardess came back with his drink and he winked at her as he took his sip. 

     Hanzo had absolutely no intention of falling asleep on a plane. No, he would endure eleven straight hours of panic, like any other sensible human being. Never mind the premature grays that sprouted from the sides of his head like weeds. But Cassidy pointing out the upcoming sunrise did ease his nerves. After the initial lurch of the plane upon take-off, Hanzo found himself looking out the window to the sky and the clouds in anticipation. The view didn’t disappoint. 

     The two took the sunrise in silence together, both quietly looking out of the same window in peace and wonder. Hanzo remembered the morning after his first failed mission with Overwatch, remarking that this was now his second shared sunrise with Cole Cassidy, and possibly his last. Once the sun became too bright to admire, Cole tipped his hat from the back of his head over the front of his face to block out the light. He was snoring in minutes. Hanzo glanced at him for a moment, and sent a silent request to whomever was listening. 

‘Please don’t make me do this.'

Chapter Text

FLASHBACK

     Hanzo closed his eyes and exhaled. He waited for the room to still, to gather the focus that he would need to survive the oncoming onslaught. Finding his center, he opened his eyes, lifted his head, and rolled his shoulders forward into a squared brace. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his bokken , and he gave a curt nod to signify that he was ready. “Hn!”

     Asa-Sensei moved forward with quick astonishing steps that made a staccato rhythm on the wooden floor of the dojo. She closed the distance between them and swung her own bokken at Hanzo’s head. He moved to block her strike, bringing his blade upward and to the left. Before he could move to counter attack, she spun off of him and recovered a healthy distance between them. 

     She dropped her blade to the floor and proceeded with her body first; a technique to bait out his own attack. In the months prior he would have fallen for it, but this was an exercise in defense - not offense. He retreated backwards with two quick steps to maintain their sparring width, and then brought up his blade to clash against her own once more. Their bokken audibly clacked against each other again and again, with each of Hanzo’s parries and deflections to Asa-Sensei’s attacks. 

     With a final attempt, she flipped backwards and leapt into the air, bringing a skull-crushing swing from above down onto Hanzo. His instinct was to block, but she had the aid of weight and momentum behind her. If he withstood this blow, his bokken would crack from the force. He opted to tumble under her leap, quickly rising to his feet, and then bringing his blade back around just in time to catch another attack. 

     They both froze with the last impact, looking at each other, until Asa-Sensei smiled and  withdrew her blade. <<Excellent work, Hanzo!>> She praised in Japanese. Hanzo smiled to her in return, letting the compliment sink in. <<You’ve learned the importance of knowing when to block, and when to dodge. Initially you were overly reliant on the blade.>>

     <<Thank you, Asa-Sensei. It is because of your tutelage,>> he replied with a bow. She bowed in kind. 

     <<No, young master. You have earned this with your own effort. You should be most proud.>> Hanzo smiled, but the moment was interrupted by Genji’s laughter, as Genji dashed between him and Asa-Sensei, who made a startled noise. Genji was bolting away from a five year old Kiriko - Asa-Sensei’s daughter - who appeared to be playing a rapturing game of ninja, and using Genji as target practice. She whipped a faux kunai forward with startling form for such a little girl.

     Genji purposely took the faux kunai to the back and fell forward to embellish the injury, until Kiriko ran forward to ‘finish him’ with another blade. Genji exaggerated his wounds and cried out in fake agony, as Kiriko cheered for her own victory. Hanzo just raised an eyebrow and shook his head, as Asa-Sensei walked forward to applaud her daughter on her excellent form. 

     <<I did it mommy! I got him!>> Kiriko shouted. 

     <<Now I’ve got you!>> Genji growled, and snatched the girl into a vicious tickling fit. Kiriko laughed and kicked uncontrollably until she fell to the floor, and her mother ‘tisked’ with laughter. 

     <<You shouldn’t have let your guard down, sweetie.>> Kiriko’s laughter and Genji’s villainous tickling noises blasted over the sound of Hanzo’s footsteps as he approached Asa-Sensei.

     <<Sensei, is there more for today’s lesson? If not, would you permit me to retire early?>> Hanzo asked. Genji shot him a suspicious look from behind Asa-Sensei’s back, but Hanzo ignored him willfully. 

     <<Well, this is certainly unusual from you Hanzo, but no. Your defensive and evasive maneuvers have far exceeded my expectations of you at this point in your training. Next week we will divert your training to precision and control, but for today you are dismissed,>> Asa-Sensei said. He bowed to her deeply with respect, and she returned the gesture in kind. 

     <<Where are you going?>> Genji asked, finally. 

     <<That’s none of your concern,>> Hanzo replied curtly, with a narrowed glare. 

     <<You love sword lessons with Asa-Sensei. And besides, you owe me a spar. We need her here to judge.>> Genji said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was twelve now, and his voice was beginning to change, but he still pouted like a petulant child. 

     <<Another time,>> Hanzo said. But Genji wasn’t having it. 

     <<You said that the last two times. Admit it - you’re just scared I’ll win this time,>> Genji goaded. But Hanzo rolled his eyes. 

     <<Please. Perhaps if you’d spent more time on your training, and less time playing around, you would actually pose a challenge,>> Hanzo replied coolly. 

     <<Oh yeah? If you feel that way then stay. Put-up or shut-up, brother.>> Genji issued his challenge with a deliberate and calculated point of his own bokken . The blade swung up just close enough that it barely missed the tip of Hanzo’s nose. Hanzo didn’t flinch. 

     <<I have to side with Hanzo this time, Genji. At your present state you’re no match. You still telegraph your swings, and you’re all attack - no defense. Hanzo would make quick work of you. You and I need to continue your training so that you’re both ready for your labors on your twentieth birthdays,>> Asa-Sensei said. She winked at Hanzo knowingly, just before Genji could whip his head around and pout at her. Hanzo silently mouthed the words <thank you> to her with wide eyes, before turning to leave. 

     <<But Sensei-!>> 

     <<No buts, Genji. The only person you’re sparring today is me. Now, assume your stance.>> Hanzo walked away fully, hearing Genji groan from behind him, but then he heard an audible crack, and the familiar sound of Genji hitting the floor of the dojo with a pained grunt. Kiriko’s giggle and cheer for her mother was contagious, and Hanzo smiled to himself.

     Immediately he rounded the corner of the dojo and quickly paced off down the twists and turns of the palace. The security guards remained still as he passed them; ever-present but never intrusive unless necessary. But now at the age of fifteen he shared command of them alongside his parents. Unless either of them superseded his authority, he could do as he pleased. 

     He made it to his private suite, quickly glancing at the time before removing his top and throwing it across the room into his laundry basket. With a glance at the clock, he saw that he had an hour and a half - the perfect amount of time to get ready and meet Yuka at the station with a car. Hanzo nearly tripped out of his pants, rushing into the shower. Normally he took his time, savoring the moment of relaxation and contemplation after a day of training with Asa-Sensei, but this was strictly business. He quickly washed his body with scented soap, and let the water run through his hair. When he finished, he yanked a towel from the rack and rubbed down every inch of his body harsh enough to tug at the skin. 

     He thanked his past self for taking the time to set his outfit aside. The outfit was a borrowed idea from a romance drama that he’d studied for the occasion; a white button down, a dark blue blazer, and a pair of pressed black slacks with loafers. He dressed carefully, making sure that everything fit just so, and then turned to look at himself in the mirror. After straightening his collar, he smiled to himself before putting on a watch from his collection, and heading to his sliding door. 

     He barely stepped a toe outside before recoiling in horror. His mother somehow managed to get around his senses. But then he remembered that he came from a family of ninja, and that even with her health in decline, his mother was no exception. All of the Shimada were trained for lethality. His own wife and children would be trained as well. After a quick mental chastisement for letting his guard down, he regained his composure. <<Mother. Good Afternoon. Are you well?>> 

     <<Quite well Hanzo, thank you. Did training end early today? Where is Genji?>> She asked the question, but her expression implied that she already knew the answer. An expression that Hanzo knew better than to lie to. So he opted for half-truths instead. 

     <<Genji was detained for private tutoring. He needs additional attention. I was dismissed early,>> he said dutifully. 

     <<I see. And…where are you off to? You’re dressed so formally. I wasn’t aware that we had an event scheduled. Should I be making arrangements with the staff?>> She put on an expression as if she were worried, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. This was absolutely a trap. 

     <<No mother. I am just experimenting with a new look. I am growing up. Should it not appear so?>> Hanzo said, avoiding her to the best of his ability. He moved to step around her but she continued. 

     <<I see. And…could this have anything to do with the fact that Yuka and her father are back in town from his work abroad?>> Hanzo came to a screeching halt. He was busted, but he couldn’t show weakness. He decided to go on the offensive. 

     <<Mother, you said that you wouldn’t have the guards report on me unless my life was in danger. You said you trusted me,>> He said, turning an offended stare to her. 

     <<I did, and I do. Genji asked for a car, and money to secure a reservation for dinner for the three of you to celebrate her return tonight. But it appears he isn’t invited, is he? Could this be a date?>> Checkmate. He hadn’t accounted for Genji’s betrayal, but it seemed his brother’s folly had been his undoing once again. He wriggled in place, cornered like a bug fearing for its life. 

     <<It’s…it’s not a date. I just wanted to go see her, is all,>> He confessed.

     <<You could have fooled me. With this outfit on, I may as well go and unlock the family’s engagement ring,>> she teased, and he groaned.

     << Mom .>>

     <<You’re overdressed. You’ll intimidate her,>> she warned, and Hanzo faltered for a moment. <<You may not want to listen to me Hanzo-shi, but believe it or not, I was once a teenage girl. Get rid of the blazer, let’s try a cardigan.>> Hanzo sighed with exhaustion, before going back to his room with utter defeat. He pursed his lips before removing the blazer and putting it back on his hanger. She moved to go through his closet, but he cut her off, opting to grab his gray cardigan for himself. She smiled and stepped back, waiting for him to put it on. 

     Once buttoned, he looked at himself in the mirror and held up his hands as if to ask ‘are you happy now?’ She wasn’t. She walked forward and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. << Mom .>> Hanzo groaned. She ignored him, and went for his arm. She pulled up the sleeve of his cardigan just past his elbow, and then unbuttoned his wrist cuff and fanned it out to fold it up over the sleeve of his cardigan so that his forearms showed. She tucked the sleeves neatly into one another, leaving a nice clean cut-off.

     <<See? Now look,>> she said, gesturing toward the mirror. He pouted and turned toward the mirror, but then blinked with astonishment. The change was subtle, but it said so much. He suddenly felt even more comfortable with himself, and turned from side to side. His mother crept up in the reflection beside him. <<You’re always so serious, Hanzo. Let your guard down, and show her your soft side. If you trust her and let her in, you might both be surprised,>> she said with a smile, and gently rubbed his back while looking at his reflection in the mirror. He smiled back at her purposefully.

     The moment was brief and cruelly fleeting. Out of the blue, she began to heave violently with a series of coughs. Hanzo moved to help her, but she waved him away. <<Mom..!>> He cried out, and he heard the guards move from their positions and dart toward him. 

     <<No!>> She wheezed. <<No, no I’m fine. Go on, go to your date. Enjoy yourself.>> Hanzo ignored her, and stayed with her until she finished coughing. He wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned into it guiltily, knowing that her sickness frightened him. <<I am okay>> she reassured him wheezily. He silently held his arm out, and she took it, so that he could help her back to her suite. They walked together in silence until she broke it. <<When was it exactly that you started hiding these things from me? You used to tell me everything, you know? Am I not cool anymore? I thought I was a pretty cool ninja mom,>> She joked, but the breathy rasp in her voice that betrayed her facade answered her own question. 

     <<It’s not like that mom. It’s just that there are some things a man has to do on his own. How would you feel if you knew that grandma coached dad for your first date?>>

     <<I thought you said it wasn’t a date?>> Hanzo glowered at her, and she laughed with a much lighter cough this time. <<Okay, okay. You can let go now. I am not so old I need you to walk me. Go, enjoy!>> she said. He smiled, kissed her cheek, and called for her attendants before jogging to exit the palace. 

     The Omnic driver and car waited for him at the door as instructed. He climbed into the back seat and gave the instruction to leave once his seatbelt was clicked into place. The drive was a blur to him. Normally he would take the moment to take in the scenery, but he couldn’t still his mind. He needed this time to mentally rehearse how he would greet her. 

     Before he could decide on which was better between a nonchalant single wave with his other hand in its pocket, and a smirk with a head nod to gesture her over, the car came to an abrupt stop outside of the station. Normally Hanzo would wait for the Omnic driver to come around to open his door, but this time he simply barked an order of <<wait here,>> and opened the door himself. He closed it behind him before bounding around the side of the car and up the stairs of the train station entrance. 

     He was early. He checked his phone for the ETA. The train wouldn’t be there for another twelve minutes, but that was perfect. It gave him more time to rehearse. He thought to himself about how he’d offered to have a car simply come and get her from her house, but she insisted on taking the train. It was a charming quality, but then he wondered to himself - how exactly would she adjust to life at the palace? He rubbed nervously at the blank space on his wrist where a soulmate mark should be - where he hoped the character’s for Yuka’s name might appear some day. He lost himself in a selfish daydream.

     That daydream proved ill-advised. Before he knew it, the train stopped in front of him, and the doors spilled open with people, moving about like ants of a hivemind. But it didn’t take him long to find Yuka. She stepped off the train in a pink oversized hoodie with sleeves so large she needed thumb holes. The hoody was so big, it billowed like a dress, and overshadowed the shorts she wore beneath it. Then it was just her now tanned legs, and what appeared to be American sneakers. He didn’t realize that he was smiling as her eyes lit up and she ran over to him.

     He began to wave, but she threw her arms around him with a mixture between a hug and a tackle fit for a contact sport. He laughed heartily as he hugged her back. <<I’m so happy to see you!>> She cheered.

     <<Welcome home Yuka. Here come with me, I got us a car,>> Hanzo said, and her eyes widened with shock. He didn’t have car privileges when she went away for the year, but that was then. He was a man now. He walked with confidence, guiding her from the train station out front towards the car.  Hanzo opened her door for her and she smiled sheepishly before getting in. The people around them stared and whispered amongst themselves as he closed her door, and then moved around to the other side.

     When he got in, the Omnic driver asked him <<Where to?>> Hanzo turned to Yuka to see what she would say. 

     <<Where’s Genji?>> She asked with a furrowed brow. Hanzo resisted the urge to scowl. Best to change the subject.

     <<He was detained with studies. He will join us later. Are you hungry?>> Hanzo asked, and her eyes lit up.

     <<Yes! Always! But I really want ice cream,>> She whined and threw her head back. 

     <<Ice cream then,>> Hanzo said, before giving the Omnic driver the address to what he remembered as her favorite rolled ice cream shop. As the car pulled off into traffic he continued. <<I’m glad you’re back.>>

     <<Me too! I missed you. I missed you both! Oh! And I brought…>> she began, before rifling through her cat-eared backpack. Hanzo waited until she brandished a bag of chips labeled entirely in english. They appeared to be ketchup flavored . <<…this!>>

     Hanzo laughed. The two of them had a private tradition of sharing weird flavors between them. Genji was a picky eater, so it was one of the few things that they could do without him. Hanzo could feel his heart in his chest. She had thought of him. <<Have you already had them?>> He asked.

     <<No silly! I waited for you! Come on, let’s try it! I’m so excited!>> She giggled.

     <<Let’s do it,>> Hanzo said, and Yuka ripped the bag open enthusiastically. She grabbed a chip, and he reached in for one as well. He went to bring it to his mouth, but before he could, she slipped her elbow through his to link them so that he faced her. He paused and took the moment to stare into the depths of her brown eyes, but then she laughed and he laughed with her. 

     <<Ready? On three!>>

     <<One.>>

     <<Two.>>

     <<Three!>>

     …It was disgusting.

*******

PRESENT DAY

     Hanzo rolled over in his bed, searching for a cool undented section of mattress to support his body. He hated limp mattresses. He liked a firm supportive bed so that he didn’t feel like he was perpetually falling. But he would take anything in place of that awful flight. 

     The warmth of the morning washed over him like the waves of welcoming waters, and he let himself submerge in its radiance. He snuggled deeper into the sheets, rolling over once more so that he was on his stomach, with one leg up and the other leg outstretched. His arms were tucked beneath his pillow, and the adjustment was enough to close his mind’s eye once more, as he began to drift back to sleep. 

     Then his eyes shot open and he gasped for air, suddenly processing several things at once. He threw himself from the bed, jumping to his feet and scrambling for his phone. It was already ten thirty seven in the morning! He jumped into a pair of shorts and yanked a t-shirt over himself, as he flung open the door to his room. 

     His memory came back to him in bursts. From what he could recall, they made it to the airport in Texas in the dead of night. He stayed awake the entire time as he was accustomed, but his memories failed him around the time of the car. He must have nodded off once or twice. He vaguely remembered Cassidy announcing they were at his place, and the cowboy showing him to a spare room. But then he must have fallen asleep!  

     He scolded himself as he raced down the stairs of Cassidy’s home. How could he be so careless? Not even a day, and he had already lost the cowboy. For all he knew, Cassidy had stolen away into the night, met Reyes, and was making plans to completely overthrow Overwatch. He had already failed his mission!

     He stopped and listened. There were no sounds, no feet, no snoring. The house was utterly empty. Hanzo’s heart was in his throat. He needed to think! He had no established contacts in the area. His closest liaison was in California. There was no way he could put out a trace on Cassidy from here. He could call Winston and confess up front, but that would simply be putting the burden on Winston’s shoulders. No, he needed to find a way to handle this! 

     Hanzo raked a hand through his hair and scrunched as he breathed sharply through his nose, desperate to come up with a strategy for this situation. But then the dull roar of a hoverbike came to his ears, and he darted over to a window. He could see a figure riding to the house at break-neck speeds in the distance. In a few seconds, it became clear that it was Cassidy. 

     Hanzo lowered his shoulders and exhaled, but then the realization came over him. He would look insane standing here in what he presumed to be Cassidy’s living room like a scornful housewife. He darted back up the stairs and into his room, before he heard Cassidy pull into the driveway and cut the engine to his hoverbike. Hanzo looked himself over in the mirror. He was sweating. He wiped himself down, and scrunched his shirt with his fists so that it looked like he’d slept in it, and had only just woken up. He tied his hair back into a messy bun, before faking a yawn, and coming back out of the room. 

     Cassidy was wearing a white v-neck shirt and jeans with a pair of boots. He took his hat off at the door and set it on a nearby stand. Hanzo saw that he had a grocery bag in his hand, and raised an eyebrow. But Cassidy could feel his gaze and suddenly looked up. “You’re awake! Mornin’ beautiful,” he teased. Hanzo scowled, playing the part. But he needed to suss out what he could.  

     “Kind of you to join me. I woke up in a strange place in the middle of nowhere. I thought southern Americans were known for their hospitality,” Hanzo chided, but Cassidy just chuckled. 

     “I missed you too, Hanny . But you damn near passed out once we got here. Figured I’d let you get your rest. I can see those bags under your eyes from down here. You needed it,” Cassidy teased. Hanzo’s scowl didn’t waver. “Well listen, you can stand up there glaring, or you can be a normal person, take a shower, and by the time you’re done I’ll have breakfast going,” Cassidy called up with a demonstrative lift of his grocery bag. 

     “There was no shower in my room. I checked.” Hanzo said.

     “Very perceptive, your highness. Second door from the stairs. We gotta share,” Cassidy called, and then proceeded into the kitchen. 

     “Hmph.” Hanzo stepped off, and went back to his room. He unpacked his bag, gently organizing his clothes and setting his things in their places, before deciding on a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He brought his clothes with him to the bathroom, taking a cold shower for heat relief, and drying off before dressing. But before he left, he did stop to take a look at his eyes. They weren’t bags per se , but one could make an argument that they resembled coin purses. 

     He made note to pick up an eye-cream when next he went shopping, before opening the door and heading toward the stairs. The smell of onions and peppers hit his nose, and he nearly tripped as his stomach roared with draconic fury. He waited until the growl subsided, before continuing. He could hear Cassidy humming, and he quieted his steps to listen. His voice was deep, but smooth as he slid from note to note. Hanzo leaned in the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest as he waited. Cassidy hummed on for another two minutes before he finally turned for a plate and saw Hanzo in the door. He jumped. 

     “ Damn it! Trying to scare me to death? You and Genji both with that silent walk of yours,” Cassidy complained. Hanzo did his best not to smirk.

     “Would you prefer it if I announced my presence?” Hanzo asked, standing up off of the door frame. He didn’t uncross his arms. Funny as that was, he was still angry. 

     “Immensely, yes. Ain’t nothing out here but you, me, and the coyotes at night. It’s a little shocking when someone pops up in my periphery,” Cassidy said. It was then that Hanzo saw him plate a beautifully golden omelet, stuffed with ham, cheese, spinach, green peppers, and onions. Hanzo’s eyebrows rose as his mouth watered. The omelet was so captivating he almost didn’t notice the sides of bacon and hash browns.

     Almost.

     Cassidy spun over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of chipotle southwest sauce, before drizzling it back and forth over both plated omelets, and recapping the lid. He brought over his own plate, and a plate for Hanzo as he came to the table; one in each hand. He set them down, and then with his free hand gestured for Hanzo to sit. 

     As Hanzo approached Cassidy asked, “I didn’t know what to get you to drink, sorry. I got water, coffee, sweet tea, beer, whiskey, scotch? I might could throw together a cocktail if you like? Maybe a little wine?”

     “It is eleven in the morning,” Hanzo chided. 

     “Like I said - ain’t nothing out here but us. And I’m on medical rest, remember? That clock’s just there for your peace of mind,” Cassidy said, before getting himself a lowball glass out of the cabinet. He poured himself some whiskey before setting his bottle aside. 

     “Just water,” Hanzo said. Cassidy grabbed another glass and filled it to the brim with ice and then water, before giving it to Hanzo. Hanzo gave him a thank you nod, before putting his hands together. 

     “Hah, you praying? Didn’t take you for the religious type. But that’s cool. Adds a little character I guess,” Cassidy said, before digging in with his fork and knife, and taking a sizable bite of omelet. 

     “It is not a prayer. Simply a custom,” Hanzo replied, before picking up his own fork and knife. He cut off a portion of his omelet and took a bite. What happened next was a series of emotions so complex that his English vocabulary wasn’t up to the task. But on the topic of religion, he knew unequivocally that what he just bit into was sin in its purest form . It tasted so good, he nearly lost his composure. But he found it immediately when he looked at Cassidy, who was looking back at him expectedly with a confident smirk. 

     “Well?” He asked, taking another bite, without breaking eye contact. Hanzo’s pride welled in his chest like a burning furnace. The omelet was fucking delicious of course, but he would sooner play in traffic before giving Cassidy the satisfaction. He carefully swallowed his bite before answering. 

     “Not bad.”

     “ Oh come off it, ” Cassidy laughed, and Hanzo almost broke into laughter with him. “Ain’t no way. That’s my best dish, Han. You look me in the eye and tell me you’ve had a better omelet than that one,” Cassidy said, pointing between Hanzo and the plate, and leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. 

     “I cannot say that I have had better, this is true. But I do not normally begin my days with omelets. Heavy food like this makes one sluggish, and unfit for the day” Hanzo replied, and Cassidy grumbled something pitiful under his breath. “What does it matter to you? Why are you so desperate to win me over?” 

     “I ain’t desperate. I just like an honest critic, is all. As far as I can tell, you don’t like much of nothing. So a yes from you is worth a thousand from anyone else.” Hanzo paused, letting that comment sink in for a moment. He didn’t know what to make of it. Why did it taste like both an insult and a compliment? 

     He took another bite of the cowboy’s sinful omelet and fought off the curling of his toes. Fortunately Cassidy wasn’t interested in much more conversation for the time being, as the two of them dug into their plates with hunger. Hanzo made certain to keep an evenly measured eating pace, so as not to look too entranced by the meal. His poker face was pristine.

     After enough time, Cassidy broke the silence once more. “So we’re here for two weeks. Is that reconnaissance mission of yours private business? Or you gonna let me in?”

     “I can only share the minimum with you. Confirmations or inconclusions. If you want anything more, you will have to converse with Winston. And that is only part of the reason I am here. The other part is to make certain that you do not strain yourself and reactivate your injuries. Though I have already failed in that regard,” Hanzo said, remembering that he needed to suss out if Cassidy had left in the night.

     “One bag of groceries ain’t gonna kill me Han. Besides, we gotta go back out together anyway. This was just a courtesy. I don’t know what else you eat, and that fridge over there is decorative. You won’t find nothing in there but condiments and beer.” Cassidy said, finishing up the remains of his hash browns. 

     “So be it.” Hanzo said, taking another bite and then swallowing. “How will you spend your time when we are apart?” Hanzo asked, and Cassidy swallowed with contemplation.

     “Honestly? I thought about doing a little light yard-work. Might go see some old friends in the area. Maybe towards the end a little horseback riding if the doc says it’s okay. But otherwise I’ll just be here. Do a little reading, watch a little television. Gain some weight, you know? Just take it easy.”

     “I didn’t think you were the type to read,” Hanzo confessed. 

     “But you do think about me, hunh?” Cassidy teased. Hanzo immediately snatched his now empty plate and Cassidy’s as well as he stood up.

     “Thank you for the meal,” Hanzo spat venomously. 

     “Wait, hold on. What are you doing?” Cassidy asked with a chuckle, and stood from his seat as well. 

     “You cooked. I will clean the dishes. In the future you need not concern yourself with food for me. I am more than capable of providing for myself,” Hanzo said, before plugging the sink and starting the water. Cassidy came up next to him and cut the water off, before taking the plates back out of Hanzo’s hands. Hanzo looked at him with confusion, until he saw Cassidy open the door to the dish-washer beneath them, and shove the plates into a slot. 

     “Listen, I’m old fashioned. But dishes? Not a chance,” Cassidy drawled. Hanzo pursed his lips and stepped away. Cassidy rubbed his belly and let out a full bodied belch, to Hanzo’s utter horror. “Whew! ‘Scuze me.” Hanzo just stared. “Alright. Gimme a minute here, and then I’ll meet you out back at the truck,” Cassidy said, and took a final drink of his glass. Hanzo tended his own water as Cassidy stepped out.

     Hanzo walked over to look out the window. Cassidy’s house was comfortable for two, but Hanzo had lived in bigger penthouses, and smaller apartments. No, more impressive than the house itself, were the acres of land that the property sat on. There were yards of untarnished natural grass that stretched on for quite some time, before being interrupted by another property. It was a sight that brought him a strange amount of peace. 

     It was the way the sun gleamed in the sky between the clouds. The way the wind blew the tips of the blades of grass every which way. If he closed his eyes and listened, he could hear birds, and bugs. These were things he had back at the family palace in Hanamura, but he took them for granted. Tokyo itself was the polar opposite. Everywhere he looked there were neon lights and advertisements, and the architecture was tight enough to choke him. This was so open and quiet that the tranquility became loud in its own way. 

     “You ready?” Cassidy called, and Hanzo took one last drink from his water before coming to join him. He watched as Cassidy locked the door to the house and bounded down the porch stairs around the back. Hanzo followed until they came to the hover-truck, and then he broke off to take the passenger side. Cassidy climbed up into the driver’s seat. “You mind if I roll the windows down?” Cassidy asked. 

     “I do not mind.” 

     “Good. AC’s broken,” Cassidy laughed and put the keys in the ignition. The engine roared to life and then simmered to a dull hum as Cassidy pulled off onto the road. He drove with his right hand on the steering wheel. The other arm was out the window, resting on the door. 

     Hanzo sat still for the time being, taking in the sights of more stretches of land, more colors. Life happened everywhere here, and it was natural life. The breeze blew at the free-hanging hairs that fell from his bun, and he leaned into the wind. The sound of it ripped past his ears and the force tugged at his skin, until he closed his eyes and gave into the feeling. 

     This was nice.

Chapter Text

     Hanzo could feel the tension in his chest as he jogged. He breathed rhythmically to keep himself in perpetual motion as he bounded up the nearby cliff-side. The beautiful scenery of the elevated trees and greens had captivated him the first two times that he’d come up here to set up camp. But today everything felt familiar. 

     And honestly, it was a little too familiar. One could even say downright boring. The trees were always in the same place, the sun was bright and oppressive, and the altitude was suffocating as he climbed higher and higher. He threw his briefcase up and over the next ridge, before scaling the rocks, and lifting himself to the vantage point. It was a labor intensive task, but he had already checked the area twice over. This was the best place for his current mission.

     Once he made it to the top, he opened his briefcase, which immediately assembled itself into a hologram projector and an operating system. From there, holograms popped up to reveal the camera feed from the wires that he’d used to bug Cassidy’s house. From what he could see, each camera was fully functional. And judging from the sound of the running water from Cassidy’s shower, the microphones were also performing at maximum efficiency. 

     Now all there was to do was wait. And that’s all there had been to do for the last nine days. Of course, this was exactly what he’d signed up for, and so far he was genuinely relieved that his services were not needed. If Cassidy did intend to betray Overwatch, he was either a master of deception, or it simply wasn’t that high on his to-do list. Over the duration of their time together, he had done nothing that warranted even a hopeful amount of suspicion. 

     No. On their first day together, they went grocery shopping. Hanzo’s cart was flush with greens and grains, white meat, fish, and ingredients for enhanced flavor bases. Cassidy’s on the other hand was full to the brim with eggs, milk, red meat, bread, and beer. And he made certain to make a stop for moonshine’ before they truly returned home. From what Hanzo could see of Cassidy, it was a wonder the man was still alive. If a mission didn’t claim his life, hypertension certainly would. 

     Cassidy attempted conversation a few times that day, despite Hanzo’s displayed lack of interest. But other than that one day together, the two had spent the rest of the time apart. Hanzo would wake before Cassidy did, and take off to investigate the ‘Omnic arms deal ’ he had been falsely sent here to look into. And he wouldn’t return until deep into the night. The time he spent with Cassidy had been fortunately brief and fleeting. 

     Though, he had been appreciative when Cassidy stepped in to handle the gawkers at the grocery store, who seemed not to have learned how rude it was to stare. He knew that his brief stay in Texas would be… trying …but apparently Japanese people are uncommon in the area, as Cassidy apologetically explained. Hanzo knew that he was the most dangerous thing in any room he entered, so he had no fear of conflict should the need arise. But for Cassidy to have taken charge of the situation, and then diffused it so…efficiently…

     ‘Focus.’ Hanzo thought to himself. He opened the box of breakfast he’d made as he sat back, looking at the hologram. He watched the video feed as Cassidy poked his head out of the bathroom, looked both ways and then called “Han…? You there?” Hanzo rolled his eyes and looked away. This was the part of the day when Cassidy apparently liked to air dry . He had caught him completely off guard the first day, and Hanzo panicked, unsure if he was supposed to continue watching or respect the man’s privacy. After all, he hadn't consented to being recorded. 

     But if his previous patterns remained consistent, Cassidy would lounge about for an hour or so, presumably watching videos that he found on the internet, until he got hungry at about eleven thirty four. And then he would finally get dressed, go to the kitchen, horrendously over salt and butter, and then under cook a steak. Or perhaps a hamburger this time, as he sang along to a country western song that he played in the background. The man was as predictable as a child’s game. By day four, Hanzo had had his routine down to a system. 

     Or so he thought. His eyes snapped back over to the holograms when the microphones picked up a doorbell ringing. Cassidy came bounding down the stairs, fully dressed at nine fifty - a most unusual time for the lazy cowboy. Hanzo flipped screens quickly to get a hold of the situation. 

     There was an Omnic at the door, wearing a hideously patterned shirt and overalls with a straw hat. It took the hat off when Cassidy came to answer. Hanzo had the cameras zoom in to see what was going on. “Hey Clark! Long time no see,” Cassidy said, reaching forward to shake the Omnic’s hand. The Omnic took it immediately. 

     “Hey there Cole. I didn’t realize you were back in town. Saw yer car in the driveway. Should I skip this week?” Hanzo narrowed his eyes, pushing past the forced country accent that the Omnic seemed to be putting on. Was this the moment that he needed to act? He reached for his bow, just in case. 

     “Actually, no. Normally I’d do it myself, but I’m on medical leave. Can’t do too much of nothing right now or I might open up a couple stitches,” Cassidy replied. 

     “Stitches? Y’alright?” Clark the Omnic tilted its head as it asked. 

     “Yeah. The Doc’s more concerned than I am. I don’t feel a thing. Just a little mix-up, nothing too serious. Appreciate you coming over. The payments still coming in on schedule?” Cassidy asked.

     “First of the month, like clockwork. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll get the yard together here and be out of your hair in a couple hours.” 

     “Excellent. You need anything I’m right here. But otherwise she’s all yours,” Cassidy said. Hanzo realized that Clark must have been the Omnic who tended Cassidy’s house while he was away with Overwatch. Otherwise the land would be unruly. Clark went around to Cassidy’s shed and disappeared inside it  for a moment, until he rode out on a lawn-mower and began his work. The Omnic rode while tying down his straw hat so that it wouldn’t blow in the wind. 

     When Hanzo panned the camera once again, Cassidy was in the kitchen, opening a beer and deciding what he intended to put his arteries through today. Hanzo exhaled, put his bow away, and resumed eating the light breakfast that he made for himself. The day passed just like every other had before. He would sit on this cliffside, taking the high ground, and watch Cassidy do literally nothing. All day. Every day. The cowboy had been nothing if not honest; he was a professional at taking it easy. 

     Most days he would stay perched until he was certain that Cassidy was snoring. But tonight he decided to stay until just after sunset. The fake mission packet that Ana and Winston gave him detailed a distribution route that was inactive on Thursdays and Fridays. Cassidy would have questions if he were constantly gone. He activated the comm-link to give his daily check-in to Winston. “This is Hanzo reporting to base. Do you copy?”

     “Copy, Hanzo. Status report?” Winston’s voice was shaky on the other side of the comms. It always was. The ape was terrified of the thought of Cassidy betraying Overwatch. Hanzo wouldn’t leave him to suffer the cruelties of his imagination. 

     “He remains the same. An Omnic arrived today to tend the yard, but Cassidy is otherwise on the couch, drinking and watching television. I will return to the house early today, as instructed in the mission parameters,” Hanzo said, and he heard Winston sigh with relief. 

     “Thank you, Hanzo. Do you require additional supplies? More funding?” 

     “Negative.”

     “Understood. Only five more days before your return flight. And then all of this ugliness is behind us. Thank you again,” Winston said. Hanzo saw him nervously fuss with his own fingers.

     “Copy that. Over and out.” The Hologram blinked out of existence as Hanzo ended the transmission. He folded up the briefcase, and switched it to its false side, before beginning the climb back down the cliff. 

*****

     “You’re here!” 

     Hanzo felt something die inside of him as he closed the door to Cassidy’s house. It was both his own disdain for social interaction, and the guilt he felt in his stomach at the sound of the genuine excitement and enthusiasm from Cassidy’s greeting. “Hello.” 

     “How’s the mission going?” Cassidy asked, picking up his feet and folding in the foot-rest of his reclining chair. 

     “So far, it has been a series of dead ends. I took the day to do local reconnaissance, but if anything is happening, it certainly isn’t happening tonight. There is no communication over any radio or information system, and no reports of suspicious activity in the area. Not even on the police scanners,” Hanzo said, taking off his shoes at the door. 

     “You went into town?” Cassidy asked, standing up from his chair and walking over. 

     “Yes.”

     “With no car?” Cassidy asked. Shit . Hanzo swallowed. An amateur mistake. He needed to answer quickly. 

     “It is why I leave early. I begin the day with a jog to maintain my athleticism,” Hanzo said, not looking Cassidy in the eye as he fussed with his pockets, pretending to check if he had forgotten something. He needed to look natural at this moment. Hopefully Cassidy would drop the subject.  

     “So you jog fifty miles into town? And then fifty back in the dead of night?” Shit. Cassidy narrowed his glance at Hanzo as he approached. Hanzo kept his face still but turned to face him at last. 

     “I jog eight miles. I was assigned a local liaison who initially tipped the information to Overwatch. They meet me at a rendezvous point and we embark from there. It is to maintain your privacy,” Hanzo lied. But it was a convincing falsehood. Cassidy’s eyes softened. 

     “Wow. Winston really thinks of everything. I mean I was gonna say, if you want to just borrow the truck-“ Cassidy began, but Hanzo interrupted.  

     “Your generosity is noted but unnecessary. I require a shower. If you’ll excuse me,” Hanzo said, moving around Cassidy to go up the stairs. 

     “Well hey if you’re here for tonight, I can get us dinner going, and then maybe we could go out?” Cassidy called up after him as he walked. Hanzo turned on the stairs to face him. 

     “Your grocery cart consisted of all the necessary ingredients to induce cardiac arrest, and I have nothing to wear. I will cook my own dinner, and stay in for the night,” Hanzo said tersely, but Cassidy just laughed. 

     “Aw come on, Han! Don’t be like that! You haven’t even tried one of my steaks. I’m a pro on the grill,” Cassidy insisted, flashing his trademark smirk. “And what are you, a large? You’re roughly my size. I’ll loan you something!” Hanzo looked Cassidy up and down and scowled. Cassidy faked an injury as if he’d been shot. “You wound me, Han! Is it that bad? A lot of people happen to find me rather dapper, believe it or not.” 

     “I have never relied on the general populace as a credible source,” Hanzo said. Cassidy stepped forward and put his hand on the stair rail. Hanzo instinctively stepped up one more stair to maintain the high ground. 

     “Alright Han, what’s it gonna take for you to let me show you around town? I’m bored cooped up in here all the time. Ain’t nothing to do, when you can’t do nothing. Come on now, I’m really asking ya here,” Cassidy said, looking him in the eye.  Hanzo’s nose began to wrinkle with irritation. 

     “And why can’t you do these things alone?” Hanzo asked.  

     “Well what if I get a little too drunk and I get into a bar fight? I’d have no choice but to reopen my stitches and defend myself, if you’re not there to protect me,” Cassidy teased, and Hanzo rolled his eyes. 

     “The worst part about that hypothetical scenario, is how probable it actually is,” Hanzo said. It was refreshing to tell the truth for once during this trip. Cassidy did have a very punchable face, worthy of a bar brawl. 

     “Which is exactly why you have to come,” Cassidy said. It was at this point that Hanzo realized that Cassidy had been coming closer and easing his way up the stairs for the entirety of their conversation. Suddenly he was only two steps beneath him. “Please?” He asked once more. 

     Hanzo sighed and turned away. “Leave fresh garments outside of the bathroom door,” he relented, and turned to continue up the stairs. From behind him, Cassidy clapped his hands together like a winner at a horse derby. 

     “No problem. How do you like your steak?” Cassidy asked.  

     “I will cook my own meal. That is my price if we are to embark tonight. You may have one or the other - not both.” Hanzo said, not bothering to look back. It was normally Genji who put him through these terrorist negotiations. He didn’t see Cassidy’s hands held up in surrender.

     “Fine by me. I’ll take what I can get.” Hanzo heard him continue up the stairs behind him and then break off into his room. Hanzo instead went straight for the shower, closing the door behind him, and setting down his equipment. He stripped down and stepped into the shower, beginning to clean himself, until he heard Cassidy’s knock at the door. 

     “Clothes are right outside. I’ll be downstairs,” Cassidy called, and then walked away. Hanzo let the water fall over him for a moment longer, as he mentally prepared himself for the tasks of sustained company. When he was finished, he dried himself fully, and then opened the door slightly to pull the clothes through. 

     Cassidy had laid out a blue plaid button up, with a black scarf and suspenders, to pair with a black belt and brown trousers. Hanzo fought back the vomit that threatened the hallows of his throat, before shaking his head and letting his shoulders fall. Resigned to this wretched fate, he put on the shirt first, and then the pants so that he could tuck them in beneath the belt. Then the suspenders, and then he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt to tie the scarf beneath it. 

     He took a moment to look himself over in the mirror. He thought he looked ridiculous, but an instinctive part of his psyche told him to take his hair down from its bun. For once he listened, letting his hair fall freely, and then he tousled it until it draped evenly over his shoulders. The look was tolerable with his hair down, but he knew himself. It would be a matter of time before he tired of having his hair in his face, so he secured the tie to his wrist. 

     When he was done, he left the bathroom and went over to his own bedroom. He put on his deodorant and fragrance, and then stashed his mission equipment in the hiding spot beneath his other belongings. When everything was secure, he left the room and proceeded down the stairs. Cassidy was already cooking, but he stopped when he saw Hanzo. Hanzo simply stared back. 

     “What?” Hanzo asked, narrowing his gaze. Cassidy blinked away his astonishment. 

     “Nothing, sorry. Nothing. I’ll be out of your way here in just a minute,” Cassidy said, turning his attention back to his steak. Hanzo moved across the kitchen to the fridge, opting for an easy chicken and egg rice bowl. Once he gathered all of his ingredients, he started chopping his vegetables and seasoning his chicken in preparation for the pan-sear. The two maintained a comfortable silence until Cassidy removed his steak. “All yours,” he said. Hanzo wordlessly moved into his place and began cooking. “Want a beer? Or we could try another whiskey?” 

     “Whiskey is fine,” Hanzo said. He felt Cassidy’s eyes on him so he turned to look. When he did, Cassidy made a face and immediately looked away. Hanzo just ignored him and returned to his cooking. When the meal was finished, he reached into the cabinet for a bowl and scooped his rice in first, and then topped it with the protein. He joined Cassidy at the dinner table, who poured him a glass of whiskey. “Thank you.” 

     “Pleasure’s all mine. I was half joking. Didn’t think you’d actually take me up on the drink,” Cassidy confessed, putting the stopper back on his decanter. Hanzo appreciated the decor. It was certainly a step up from drinking directly from the bottle, as they had on the rooftop before. 

     “I will need to be thoroughly intoxicated if I am to remain in these ridiculous garments,” Hanzo said. But Cassidy just laughed. 

     “You pull that off, Han. You should think about switching up the wardrobe a little bit. I could use a sidekick, you know. Enhance the brand, get a little publicity,” Cassidy joked, as he leaned back in his chair. 

     “I believe that is exactly what Winston is trying to avoid. Isn’t Overwatch illegal?” Hanzo challenged, continuing into his food. He took a large bite of the chicken egg and rice dish, and let himself enjoy the flavors. 

     “Doesn’t mean we can’t look good doing it. It’ll make for good mug-shots when we’re caught,” Cassidy said. “Speaking of, I’ve been meaning to ask about that tattoo of yours.” 

     Hanzo paused abruptly. He narrowed his eyes to Cassidy and lowered his bowl. “What about it?” 

     “Well, if you don’t mind me asking - “ 

     “ I do ,” Hanzo snapped. Cassidy stopped cold in his tracks. He didn’t flinch, but his eyebrows betrayed his astonishment. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment of tense awkward silence, until Cassidy held up his hands in surrender. 

     “…Sorry. I’ll back off.” Cassidy leaned forward and scooted his chair back so he could begin eating his meal. Hanzo paused, feeling guilt and embarrassment rear its ugly head within him. Tiring though his company may be, Cassidy certainly had intended no offense and he knew that. His response was disproportionately abrupt. He swallowed, before standing up from his seat and going to the drawers. 

     Cassidy watched wordlessly as Hanzo came back to his seat. Hanzo held a set of fresh utensils and set them apart. He grabbed a portion of his rice bowl with the clean fork and spoon, and scooped it onto Cassidy’s plate. Cassidy made a confused expression at first, but then chased it with one of comprehension as Hanzo then cut off a small piece of Cassidy’s steak, and put it into his bowl. 

     “I apologize. I am private about my family. The tattoo is a remnant from the ceremony that was held on my twentieth birthday. Beyond that I shall say nothing more, but my response was-“ 

     “Apology accepted, and totally unnecessary. Man’s gotta have some secrets,” Cassidy interrupted, but then flashed a smile. He took a bite of Hanzo’s chicken, and then nodded his head ‘yes.’ “Now that there is a mean bird. You got a future as a chef if the bow and arrow thing doesn’t work out,” Cassidy said, greedily going in for another bite. 

     “Hn,” Hanzo smirked, and took a bite of the steak. He could feel Cassidy’s eyes burning into him, waiting for his expected criticism. He kept his expression blank until he swallowed, and then turned to meet Cassidy’s gaze. The Cowboy only raised his eyebrows at Hanzo, waiting for the comment. They sat there in deafening silence together, until Hanzo finally relented. 

     “A fine job. Well done,” Hanzo confessed, though it felt akin to admitting defeat.

     “That’s all I’m saying,” Cassidy bragged. Hanzo just shook his head. 

********

     The drive over to the bar had been relatively peaceful. Hanzo thanked whoever was listening that Cassidy was finally beginning to understand the beauty of comfortable silence. Perhaps it was the windows being down, and the sound of his music playing against the ripping winds that dulled his urge to chat. Whatever it was, Hanzo was grateful for the reprieve. 

     But then Cassidy pulled up to the bar, and from what Hanzo could see, this was the place where hopes and dreams went to die. He didn’t make a habit of frequenting bars during his freelance years. But the few times that he had, they had always been establishments of repute and prestige. Here, there were cracks, dents, and bullet holes in the grooves of the structure, and Hanzo could see dust on the outdoor window sill from fifty feet away. 

     “Here we are!” Cassidy announced, putting the truck in park and yanking his keys out of the ignition. 

     “You jest, surely,” Hanzo said, looking to Cassidy. But when Cassidy actually opened his door and stepped out, Hanzo felt the few flickers of hope that remained fade to the void. He opened his door and followed Cassidy out of the truck and up to the bar door. It didn’t open automatically like Hanzo had hoped. Cassidy actually had to put his hands on the filthy door handle and twist the knob to open it. Unthinkable. 

     “Johnny!” Cassidy called, pushing the door open for Hanzo behind him, so that it wouldn’t hit him as they walked through. He moved for the bar. 

     “Cole!” Hanzo heard a burly man yell back. Hanzo found himself absently feeling for volume settings, wishing he could set them both to the lowest possible node. The bar was practically empty. There was no reason for either of them to be so loud. Cassidy walked right up to the counter and clapped hands with the bartender. 

     “How ya been? Long time no see! And this here is my buddy Koichi,” Cassidy said. Hanzo didn’t realize that Cassidy still remembered his code name. He’d only told him once before they got into the car for the airport, and that was more than a week ago. Some small part of him was actually impressed . 

     “Greetings,” Hanzo said, taking the seat next to Cassidy. 

     “Hey there! Any friend of Cole’s is welcome here any time,” Johnny the bartender said, before turning back over to Cassidy.  

     “Johnny’s got a pretty robust collection going. I’m building one to rival it, but he’s still got me licked by a bottle or six,” Cassidy said, with his signature swaggered lean on his barstool. “Figured you might be a little homesick though. Any of those do it for ya?” Cassidy asked, and lazily pointed across the bar. Hanzo’s eyes widened in astonishment. He didn’t believe there would be anything here remotely appealing, but his gaze landed on a golden brown bottle of Yamazaki, and his jaw fell open. 

     “The Yamazaki,” Hanzo said, almost a little too quickly. His voice was breathy, with a powerful need.  

     “I haven’t had that one yet. Let’s get a couple flights going. You pick one more, and I’ll pick two,” Cassidy said. Hanzo raised an eyebrow and looked back over the bar. 

     “You want another from Japan?” He asked. He had never played the tour-guide before, but it was an interesting challenge. 

     “Not necessarily. Whatever floats your boat,” Cassidy said. At that, Hanzo rose from his stool, and walked around Cassidy’s to take in the rest of Johnny’s collection. Cassidy hadn’t lied; it was quite extensive. He never would have guessed, judging from the outside of the bar. But Hanzo’s eyes landed on a bottle from India that he’d had once on a business endeavor. 

     “The Amrut Fusion,” Hanzo said with a subtle point. 

     “You’ve got good taste,” Johnny complimented, and Hanzo smirked, before going back to his seat. Cassidy leaned from side to side on his stool, as he looked up and down the shelves. 

     “And then let’s do…a Glenffidich...and a Bowmore each,” Cassidy said. 

     “Coming right up,” Johnny said. Hanzo watched as Johnny set up two racks worth of empty glasses. The outside of the establishment struck fear into his heart, but these glasses were spotless and shined so clean they looked new. He lowered his shoulders and relaxed, exhaling for what felt like the first time since he’d walked into the building. 

     “Something wrong?” Cassidy asked with a knowing chuckle. Hanzo shook his head ‘no.’

     “I am not someone who frequents public places. I have to remember that my enemies are mostly overseas. I doubt anyone here bears me ill will. I can relax,” Hanzo confessed. It was a moment of vulnerability. He didn’t usually talk about these things. A careless mistake.  

     “Got enemies, hunh? I can relate,” Cassidy said. Johnny chuckled, so Hanzo assumed they were in safe company. Whomever Cassidy was talking about, Johnny already knew, judging by his reaction. 

     “I must say that I do not find that difficult to believe,” Hanzo teased, his voice dripping with sardonicism. 

     “Well I was born with good looks, and I grew with a quick wit. Makes a certain type jealous I suppose,” Cassidy quipped, and Johnny laughed a little too hard as he poured the remaining drinks of whiskey. He presented the flights to the two of them, and Cassidy quickly transferred over his credits for payment. 

     “Enjoy,” Johnny said, walking over to a different part of the bar to give them privacy. 

     “Where do you want to start?” Cassidy asked, but Hanzo was already reaching for the Yamazaki. Cassidy gave a knowing look and grabbed his own glass, before holding his own up to cheers with Hanzo, and then they both took sips. Hanzo relished the taste, expressing relief and comfort in Japanese, but Cassidy picked up the conversation. “Hot damn. That’s smooth as all get out. Got a little vanilla in there too.” 

     “Among other things,” Hanzo added with pride. He took another sip and let himself absorb the flavors. “It is one of my favorites. I have not had it in some time.” 

     “I can see why. You’ve really put me on here Han. Thank you,” Cassidy said, enjoying another sip. Hanzo blinked, letting himself absorb the compliment. A rare positive voice, to combat the negative ones that wailed the walls of his mind. And rarer still; one he could trust. 

     “No. Thank you. I…needed this,” Hanzo confessed. Cassidy smiled and clinked his glass with Hanzo’s before taking another drink. Hanzo did the same. As blissful as the moment was, flights of alcohol were designed for sampling; not sustained comfort. Before he knew it, his glass was empty, and he felt immediate sorrow in its departure. “Shall we try one of yours next?” 

     “You ever had a Bowmore?” Cassidy asked, and then reached for the glass. Hanzo grabbed his own.

     “I have not. I have tried the odd whiskey here and there, but on the occasion that I drink, I prefer sake ,” Hanzo explained. He held the glass up to his lips and took a long slow sip. He let the flavor wash over his tongue before swallowing, and the drink burned down the back of his throat. “This one is smoky.” 

     “Mmhm! Nice, isn’t it? Goes perfect with a cigar,” Cassidy said, taking a sip as well. 

     “You are such a cliché. How can you stand it?” Hanzo snickered.  

     “Come again?"

     “The cigars, the revolver, the oversized hat. Even I recognize you, and I have never seen a western in my life,” Hanzo teased, taking another sip. 

     “Ain’t that calling the kettle black? Or are you unaware of how much you look like a Samurai?” Cassidy laughed, and then he paused, realizing what he actually just said out loud. To his relief, Hanzo laughed. And it was a genuine laugh. 

     “...I suppose I do. I never thought of it that way,” Hanzo confessed, and then laughed a little more. Cassidy smiled and chuckled alongside him. Hanzo could feel his face getting warm. He knew he needed to slow down. But this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. In truth, he didn’t want to. 

     “I won’t lie, part of it is a costume. Sometimes you put on a public persona, and if you wear it long enough, it turns into your actual face. But to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t know how to be any other way. Been drinking since I was tall enough to reach the bottle. Shooting before that. And all I ever did watch was westerns and heist movies, if I wasn’t working the farm. Probably does look a little cliché to someone else, but…Can’t be nothing but what I am,” Cassidy said with a shrug. He took another sip of his bowmore, until the glass was empty. 

     “Is that what brought you to Overwatch? The opportunity to live out your childhood fantasy of being a cowboy?” Hanzo asked. 

     “It was part of the benefits package, yes,” Cassidy chuckled. “But mostly it was because the job offer came with a clean slate. Used to be a bit of a trouble maker, if you can believe it. Signing up with Overwatch meant getting my criminal record wiped clean. Then after that, I came to like being one of the good guys,” Cassidy confessed. He leaned back again but kept an arm resting on the bar counter.

     “Hn,” Hanzo nodded. The offer of a clean slate would have tempted him a few years ago. But he knew well enough to know that there wasn’t enough bleach in the world to remove the stains of his past. He took another sip of the Bowmore, and swallowed until it was gone. The burn was beginning to dull, as his throat became used to the sensation. 

     “And you? Why’d you join?” Cassidy asked, looking over to Hanzo. 

     “Genji invited me,” Hanzo deflected. He grabbed the next glass - the Amrut Fusion. Cassidy mimicked his and raised it with the gesture. They sipped together, and Hanzo smiled at the familiar but forgotten taste.

     “Oh wow. Lots of flavors in this one. What’s that…chocolate, coffee, a little fruit in there too?” Cassidy asked, turning to look at Hanzo again. 

     “It is a series of things that you wouldn’t think would work together, but they do. It is surprisingly sweet, and then acidic,” Hanzo said, taking another slow sip. He licked his lips to savor every drop.  

     “I’m rather fond of this one,” Cassidy agreed and took another sip. Hanzo did as well, but enough time had passed and he could feel the waves of intoxication beginning to wash over him. He grew sluggish, and his vision delayed enough to let him know he had found the sweet spot of drunken stupor. And it felt phenomenal. “No, but I knew Genji invited you. I mean why did you say yes?” 

     Hanzo shot Cassidy a sideways glance, and then looked up and down with honest contemplation. “I thought Genji was dead. I mourned him for years. But then when he came to me and made the offer…well at first I thought…I didn’t believe it was really him. I needed to see. I needed to make sure. Then I suppose I just…stayed” Hanzo confessed. He felt himself sober violently. That needed to be fixed. 

     “Han…In the interest of being forthright, I think you should know; I do know it was you,” Cassidy confessed and Hanzo froze. Everything in him seized. His hackles were lowered for a moment, but they jumped right back into place. Cassidy could see the reaction, so he continued. “Genji let it slip one time. He doesn’t really talk about it often, but he did say it was his brother. And uh…I’m assuming it’s just you two, unless…you got a third brother.” Hanzo said nothing. He sat frozen in a flashback of his own errors. Cassidy pressed on. “Listen, I'm not judging or anything. Whatever happened happened years ago. You two clearly made up, so…I guess I just wanted you to know I know. I didn’t mean to-”

     “Who else knows?” Hanzo asked. And then he turned to face Cassidy. Cassidy’s eyebrows did a little dance and he blinked and looked around, as if he were actually rummaging around in his brain to find the answer. 

     “Me and Reyes. And probably the Doc, I’d wager. But uh…like I said, Genji doesn’t really talk about it. He didn’t used to talk that much. Not to anybody, really. Not until Overwatch disbanded. Doc said he went to live with some Omnics in Nepal. Guess that’s what did it,” Cassidy rattled on. Hanzo put his elbows on the bar and slouched forward, before running his hand through his hair. “Han I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I should never have brought it up.” 

     “No, I am glad you told me,” Hanzo said, picking up a little again, though his voice was barely above a whisper. “I wondered for a while. In truth we…have not talked about it. Not in full. I am not…” he began, but the words stopped cold in his mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. 

     “...We could uh…try the Glenfiddich if you like? Looks like we both made quick work of the Amrut,” Cassidy said, helping Hanzo off the hook. Hanzo took the interruption fervently.  

     “You think it is good enough to follow up after the Amrut?” Hanzo asked. He forced a smirk back onto his face to put Cassidy at ease. He would suffer later, in private.

     “Well if I’m wrong, I’ll be strong and wrong,” Cassidy said, and held up his glass. Hanzo joined him once more, and they both took a sip. 

     “Hn…butterscotch. And…apple?” Hanzo asked, taking another sip. 

     “A little black pepper in there too. Sweet with a kick. One of my favorites,” Cassidy said, taking another sip. 

     “What is your favorite?” Hanzo asked, both genuinely curious, and desperate to steer the conversation far away from the previous topic. Cassidy shook his head ‘no.’ 

     “Oh listen, this is for you. I’m not above a bottle of Jack, but I can tell you came up with money. Don’t have to know nothing about you to know that,” Cassidy teased. “I come from cheap stuff, so I like the cheap stuff. Ain’t no reason for these prices but ego and inflation.” 

     “Hah. You think you have me figured out, do you?” Hanzo challenged. Cassidy raised an eyebrow and turned to face him in full. 

     “Alright, stop me when I’m wrong,” Cassidy said, taking the final sip of his Glenfiddich. “You...are the oldest. First born. Being the first born you had all the expectations dumped on you, and you wanted your parents approval so you met all of them,” Cassidy rattled off, and Hanzo flinched. Cassidy continued, “You came up with money, and it was your job to keep said money, so you run a tight ship and don’t take nothing from nobody but obedience. Am I getting warm?” Cassidy asked. Hanzo furrowed his brow and his bottom lip began to quiver.

     “Y-you…a-are…” He began, and Cassidy hung on the tip of his response with an arrogant smirk. “...a charlatan ,” Hanzo spat, and Cassidy’s shoulders fully deflated, but his eyebrow rose. Hanzo elaborated. “This is an old deception. You are just firing off broad generalizations, and reading the expressions on my face to guide your next query. You are an accomplished sharpshooter, but a poor magician. Your parlor tricks will not work on me,” Hanzo said. Cassidy smirked and stood up from his stool. 

    "Yeah, but that wasn’t exactly a denial though, was it?” Cassidy leaned in with his tease, before stepping off to another part of the bar. Hanzo watched him walk away but then motioned for Johnny the bartender. 

     “A double of the Yamazaki, and a double of the Bowmore,” Hanzo said. Johnny gave him an enthusiastic head nod and poured the respective drinks in front of him. Hanzo paid and left him a generous tip, before following after Cassidy. If the cowboy’s intention was to get him drunk and then slip away into the night, he would fail. Drunk though he may be, Hanzo was more than adept at holding his liquor. But when Hanzo came around the bar, he saw that Cassidy was gathering up darts for a dart board. Hanzo walked over to him and handed him the Bowmore.

     “Well thanks,” Cassidy said, taking the glass and flashing a smile of white teeth.  

     “A repayment for earlier,” Hanzo replied. 

     “I was coming right back. Just didn’t know if you threw or not,” Cassidy said, taking a sip of the whiskey before putting the glass down. He readied one of the darts between his fingers, took aim, and threw it, all while leaning on the tall table against the wall. It landed perfectly in the center of the bull’s-eye. “Little something to pass the time.” 

     “Is that the best idea? You are surely drunk. You could injure your friend,” Hanzo cautioned, taking another sip. Cassidy looked him directly in the eye, but then threw another dart at the dartboard without breaking eye contact. Bull’s-eye , right next to the one before. 

     “Oh Han, I’m a professional. Takes more than that to get to me,” He said, and then threw another. Bull’s-eye . Above the first two, but his eyes never drifted toward the target. He was looking entirely at Hanzo, with that same arrogant smile. 

     “It is not so difficult a thing, what you’re doing,” Hanzo critiqued, now locking eyes with Cassidy, who had thrown his final dart. Bull’s-eye . A perfect diamond. Hanzo took another sip of his whiskey, then walked up to the board and yanked the darts from the center. He stood facing Cassidy, with his back to the board, and then tossed the darts over his shoulder with a flick of his wrist, one by one. The first was a bull’s eye. 

     Cassidy chuckled. “Why’s everything a competition with you?” Flick. Bull’s-eye . Hanzo took a sip of his drink before throwing the third dart. 

     “With me…with anyone else… life is a competition. Why else do we fight?” Flick. Bull’s-eye . Cassidy’s smirk wobbled for a moment as he thought.

     “Well…I reckon we fight for the day we no longer have to. Ultimate goal is to get fat and comfy in peace,” Cassidy argued, taking a sip of his own drink to keep pace with Hanzo. 

     “And is that day yet here?” Hanzo asked. 

     “ ... touché ” Cassidy said, and Hanzo threw the last dart. Bull’s-eye . A symmetric T. “Let me ask you this; you think you’re a better shot than me?” Cassidy challenged, and Hanzo smiled. 

     “You ask questions, but you already know the answers. Just as I know,” Hanzo replied. He looked back into Cassidy’s eyes with draconic defiance, but Cassidy did not back down. 

     “Alright. Let’s wrap this up and get on back to the place then. We can work this out like gentlemen,” Cassidy said with a raised brow and a small snarl.

     “And what do I get when I win?” Hanzo asked. Cassidy’s eyes widened. 

     “Didn’t think you were the betting type. Well alright then. What is it that you want?” Cassidy asked. 

     “Silence. Radio silence. For the rest of the week . You will speak only when spoken to. Otherwise you will leave me be,” Hanzo said, and Cassidy laughed and shook his head. 

     “Still pretending you don’t like me?” 

     “It is not an act, I assure you,” Hanzo said, but his smile and laugh betrayed him. The truth was that Cassidy had managed his way past Hanzo’s resistances, though he’d never admit it. And the week would end on Sunday. No, this was about humbling a haughty American. “But on the off-chance that I have an off-night, what will you require? Another meal of yours to try? Another concoction to taste?” Hanzo teased. But then he saw Cassidy was looking at him. 

     Cassidy was… looking at him. He looked at him… slowly. Intentionally. His eyes went down, and then up. But his smirk never left. He just tilted his head, and raised that one god damned eyebrow. Hanzo paused, and then the realization washed over him like a bucket of ice water. Cassidy could see his panic, and immediately dropped the smirk. 

     “You..?”

     “You’re not…” 

     The two men paused. Another thick palpable silence between them. Thick enough to cut with a blade. Hanzo was stunned. In his mind he replayed all of the interactions he had had with Cole Cassidy thus far. Had he been flirting the entire time? Cassidy spoke again. “It’s uh…it's nothing. Probably the alcohol talking. You’re a clean shot Hanzo, we’re on the same side. No need for all of this,” Cassidy said, making a vague gesture between them, so he could avoid the phrase ‘dick measuring.’ 

     But Hanzo was still staggered. This was new for him; an entire novelty. He was not unaware of his appeal - quite the contrary. He maintained his appearance with more than a marble of personal satisfaction. But he had never even considered the thought of being with another man. And he never in a million years would have assumed that that would ever be whiskey-drinking, gun-slinging, rooting-tooting Cole Cassidy.  His eyes narrowed. “Han?” 

     “I didn’t say no.” Hanzo said, snapping back to reality at the sound of Cassidy’s voice. Cassidy lifted a brow, as they stared into each other’s eyes.

     “But that wasn’t a yes.”

     “But it also wasn’t a no.” 

     “So say no, and back down,” Cassidy growled. Hanzo stepped in closer. 

     “I have no reason to back down. I’m going to win.” 

     “That a fact?” 

     “A certainty,” Hanzo hissed, letting his challenge ring in the air, and Cassidy held perfectly still. They looked into each other’s eyes, searching for the sign to yield. They both found nothing. The unstoppable force had met the immovable object. There was only one thing left to do. 

     Cassidy finished his double of the bowmore. “Truck has auto-pilot. I can set it for the house whenever you’re ready,” Cassidy said, giving Hanzo one last chance to cease and desist. Hanzo threw back his Yamazaki like a shot, and then grabbed the empty glasses. He walked them over to Johnny who took them with a quiet ‘thank you.’ 

     “...How much for the bottle?”

Chapter Text

     ‘What am I doing?’

     Cassidy had a launcher for clay pigeons. The targets were fully biodegradable and stuffed with nutrients to benefit the yard, so the two were free to shoot to their heart’s content. What was better, was that it was fully voice automated. The only risk of injury was the one the two of them posed to each other. The car ride home gave them both time to sober, so they did shots before each shot to hasten the competition. Both men were drunk, but neither relented. They agreed to set their weapons down at the shooting range, and to not interrupt each other on the line.

     Hanzo pulled another arrow from the quiver on his back, with his index and middle finger. He knocked the arrow onto the bow string and then curled his fingers to pinch it between the crux of his knuckles. He kept his right arm taut and pushed the bow forward with his left, to shift the burden of the draw. He let out a slow exhale from his nose, and then he growled “pull!” 

     The clay pigeon flew forward at astonishing speeds, and then it was devoured by the darkness of the night sky. But Hanzo had calculated the launcher’s trajectory after Cassidy’s first shot. It would soar, and then hover, and that split second hover would be the exact moment to release. He waited, and then loosened his fingers, letting the arrow rip through the sky and pierce the pigeon into pieces across the yard. It was a clean shot. 

     ‘What am I doing,’ he thought to himself. There was genuinely no reason for this. He shouldn’t have accepted the competition at the bar. This was nonsensical. This was ludicrous. This was so unlike him. He set down his bow neatly, and then walked back to Cassidy, who wore an impressed expression. They had gone two for two; neither of them missing. “We’ll be here all night at this rate,” Cassidy said with a chuckle.

     “You’re welcome to yield,” Hanzo sneered, folding his arms over his chest. His poker face was intact, but he was hoping that Cassidy would actually surrender. He had half hoped that the whiskey would overwhelm his senses, and that he would tire by the time they made it to the house. But even drunk and clumsy, the cowboy was wide awake. 

     “Bet you’d like that,” Cassidy laughed. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’m just saying we’ll have to up the difficulty. Something tells me we’re more likely to get alcohol poisoning before either of us slips up. We can either increase the speed and set a max range, or we’ll have to have it launch more than one at a time. Pick your poison,” Cassidy challenged, and poured himself a shot of Yamazaki. 

     The stakes were uneven. A victory meant the bliss of sweet sweet silence for the next three days, and that was quite the prize. But if he lost…on the off chance that he lost… Cole Cassidy would bend him over and dishonor him fully. Hanzo swallowed and looked askew. “Two at a time, then.” Hanzo said, doing his best to stand still and not teeter. 

     “You sure? That’ll be a lot easier on me than you. You’re the one who has to reach back and get another arrow,” Cassidy warned, taking his shot to the back of his throat, and putting his glass down on the nearby empty barrel. 

     “You told me to pick, and I picked,” Hanzo spat. Cassidy just shrugged.

     “Fine by me,” Cassidy drawled, and drunkenly strolled up to the shooting line. He loaded two bullets into the chamber of his revolver, and cocked it. There was a slight hitch, but then he held his gun straight forward, and barked “pull!” Two pigeons fired out of the launcher at once. Cassidy was steady until the last possible moment. Then he fired two shots clean through the targets. They crumbled in the middle of the sky and drifted to the ground, as he dropped the shells from his gun and set it down. He turned back to Hanzo with an arrogant smirk. Hanzo just scowled. “All you, Han.” 

     Hanzo poured himself a shot of Yamazaki and swallowed it. But this was too much alcohol, and at too fast a pace. He could feel it slip and slide down the internal paths of his chest, and he teetered back for a second. Cassidy moved as though he would catch him, but Hanzo shot him a glare that meant ‘stay back’. Hanzo found his footing, and walked forward. 

     “Y’alright?” Cassidy was asking honestly, but Hanzo just sneered. 

     “I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine. Cassidy was supposed to have slipped by now. He was supposed to have fired just a little too wide, and then he was supposed to be crestfallen and mute. Or his liver was supposed to do the gentlemanly thing, and give out then and there. How was he still competing three shots, four glasses, and a double in? There was no fucking way. 

     “You sure? We can just stop here,” Cassidy offered. But he smirked again. That god damned arrogant American smirk. Hanzo grit his teeth. He would never live this down if he walked away now. Cassidy would hold this moment over his head for the rest of their shared existence.

     “I’m fine,” Hanzo argued. He grabbed his bow tight with his left hand and planted his feet steadily. He reached back into his quiver and grabbed two arrows, knocking one and keeping the other ready. When he was still, he called “pull!” The pigeons launched forward. He fired the first arrow; another perfect puncture of the pigeon, as it burst into bits in mid air and crumbled to the floor. He quickly knocked the next arrow and fired. The arrow soared in the air, and to his credit it made contact with the pigeon, but it broad-sided instead of piercing. The arrow and the pigeon clashed in mid air, and both fell flat to the floor. 

     Hanzo’s eye’s shot wide open, straining himself in the darkness to make sure the whiskey hadn’t betrayed his vision. His chest seized, and he was frozen in frigid comprehension. The stars and the moon coddled his expression, their night light shining over his brow to cast shade over his eyes. But the knot in his stomach gave no slack. It only tightened as he heard Cassidy’s flat footsteps clop up from behind him on the grass. He didn’t turn to look. He could already see Cassidy’s stupid face in his mind. 

     “You hear that? Sounds like a rather heavy-set woman singing in the distance,” he teased. An instance of fury rippled across Hanzo’s face, but he subdued it almost as quickly. Instead of turning around and snapping like he wanted to, he simply walked forward. Cassidy laughed. “Aw come on now, don’t be like that Han! I know you’re a sore loser, but that was pretty darn close for us to be three shots in, in the dead of night,” Cassidy slurred. Hanzo kept a measured pace ahead of him, as he crouched to gather his arrows from the ground. 

     “Congratulations, Cole Cassidy. You are the better shot,” Hanzo said, still refusing to turn and face Cassidy. He heard the cowboy begin to walk closer, so he walked away even faster. Cassidy just laughed and continued behind him. They continued on like this, even as Hanzo gathered his other two arrows. Once he finally had all three, he turned to look at Cassidy, and then crossed his arms over his chest. 

     The two stood there beneath the moonlight, looking at each other, both drunk and recovering from the intensity of their competition. Cassidy shoved his hands into his pockets, but kept the thumbs out as he hitched his weight. “You want to go double or nothin?” Hanzo paused. The temptation was there. It was surely an amateur mistake - a slight over estimation - that led him to this wretched fate. But his shoulders fell slack, and he blinked with an exhale. 

     “...No. I lost fair and square. You…may do as you will…” Hanzo said, looking off to the side in utter shame. Cassidy’s eyebrows just lifted. 

     “That so, hunh?” He teased. Hanzo scowled. 

     “If I am a sore loser, then you are twice as sore a winner. Do not mock me! Just...get it over with!” 

     “Yeah? S'that what you want? You and me? Right here in the field?” Cassidy asked. Hanzo flinched. He was mortified. The thought left him paralyzed as a shiver shot up his spine. He blinked and swallowed, but Cassidy just shook his head. “Let’s go inside. Sick of these bugs, anyway,” Cassidy said, turning his back to Hanzo and making his way to the pigeon launcher. 

     As they walked to the house, Hanzo let the dark presences of his mind voice their opinions. He could do it. He could shoot him, right here. One arrow through the heart, and then he could call Winston and give the gruesome news that Cassidy had tried to betray Overwatch. Perhaps he could cut himself a little and lather some blood in various places to really make it look like a gruesome duel. No one would know. 

    'No one would know.’ 

    Cassidy grabbed the pigeon launcher and deactivated it, carrying it back into his shed where he kept the other yard supplies. Hanzo pondered killing Cassidy for just a moment longer, but then he went ahead into the house. He dashed up the stairs to put his bow away, and then  went to the bathroom to relieve himself. He furiously washed his hands, and took a moment to really look himself in the eye. 

     Could he really do this? Could he really…lie with Cole Cassidy? To submit to such an insulting excuse for a man would stain his reputation for the remainder of his life. The browns of his eyes washed over with sorrow and dread, and he could feel the tension of panic in the back of his throat. But he blinked and looked away. He was many things, but above all of them, he was a man of his word. 

     He opened the bathroom door to see that Cassidy had just come into the house. The Cowboy took his hat and serape off at the door and then looked up the stairs at Hanzo, all the while nonchalantly humming some song. Hanzo’s nose wrinkle crinkled up in full form. The very sight of Cassidy made his stomach churn. Hanzo just leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. Cassidy smirked up to Hanzo - who for the record was definitely not pouting - as he slowly stalked up the stairs. Once he climbed to the top, he walked over to where Hanzo stood, just outside the door of his guest bedroom. 

     Hanzo pushed up and off the wall, and let his arms fall to his side. He tensed as the floor creaked, but then relaxed and closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t. He didn’t have to. That wasn’t part of their agreement, anyway. 

     “You ready?” Cassidy drawled. Hanzo inhaled sharply through his nose, then slowly exhaled and nodded solemnly. 

     “Let us proceed,” he said, barely above a whisper. Cassidy walked forward, so Hanzo instinctively moved backward, until he felt his back against the wall again. Cassidy pressed his forearm to the wall just above Hanzo’s head, and leaned forward facing him, leaving little space between them. Hanzo could feel his breath hitch tight in his chest. He held it. 

     The hallway was silent, save for the constant chirping of the cicadas outside. Hanzo opened his eyes at last, and looked from Cassidy’s hazel eyes, to his pink lips. Cassidy raised his other hand to cup the bottom of Hanzo’s chin and tilted it up slowly. Hanzo flinched for a millisecond, as Cassidy inched closer and closer, for a moment that felt like forever. But then Hanzo felt Cassidy’s lips press against his own at last. 

     The kiss was slow …and gentle. Cassidy moved in closer, as he exhaled through his nose. He turned his head to the left, as his lips gently folded over Hanzo’s once more. Hanzo followed Cassidy’s guidance, turning his own head to the left as well, kissing Cassidy and then pulling away… only to kiss him again. His chest was tight as he panicked internally, still in shock that this was even happening at all. But in truth…it felt the same as when he kissed women. 

     …It felt exactly the same.  

     Hanzo felt Cassidy’s hand make its way to the small of his back, and he tentatively lifted his own shaking hand; unsure of where to put it. He decided to rest it on the side of Cassidy’s arm - rather mechanically - as the Cowboy kissed him once more. Hanzo could feel his heart thumping hard in his chest, and the sensation of chills rippled through his body. He began to kiss back deeper, giving himself over to the moment completely. 

     Cassidy licked and tugged at Hanzo’s bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth as he sucked on it . When he pulled away, their lips popped audibly. Hanzo felt his breath hitch, and Cassidy lingered for a moment with his forehead against Hanzo’s… 

     …But then he pulled away, and stepped back. 

     Hanzo opened his eyes, and they darted left and right to stare back into Cassidy’s. Cassidy was trying to find his breath, his chest rising and falling in that tight white shirt as he gathered himself. Hanzo watched as the Cowboy licked his lips slowly, and leaned forward. “Goodnight, Han…”

     “...W-What?” Hanzo swallowed, and glared. He felt his head shaking ‘no’ involuntarily. “But… our agreement! W-why? Did I…do something… something wrong?” 

     “...I only wanted a kiss, that’s all. We’re uh…all good on the bet,” Cassidy said. They mutually paused, just looking at each other and breathing. Hanzo could hear the cicadas again.  “And uh…don’t worry about…nothin. I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Just a one time bet sort of thing…” Cassidy said. His tone sounded like he was trying to apologize. 

     ‘Why would he apologize for winning?’

     “O-oh…um…well…alright then,” Hanzo said, with a rather frank head nod. “Then uh…goodnight. I shall…see you in the morning,” Hanzo said. He looked into Cassidy’s eyes once more, as if he was asking ‘are you sure?’ The cowboy reflected back eyes of hesitation. Hanzo lingered for a moment, and then he pushed himself up and off the wall. He turned and walked to his room, and closed the door, before going to sit on his bed. 

     Breathless, he turned to look at himself in the mirror. On the outside, he looked like his usual self; grumpy, solemn, and begging for solitude. But internally… he was at war. The logical part of him knew that he should feel relief that the experience had come to a close. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this! But his physical body spoke the unspoken truth. It had been too long since he had been touched. The feeling of someone else’s lips against his own had awoken something in him that lied dormant and long forgotten. Absent-mindedly, he traced his thumb back and forth over his bottom lip, where Cassidy had tugged just a moment before. The feeling…the ghost of him…was still there. Still fresh. 

     He jumped as he heard Cassidy’s steps creak on the wooden floorboard, from outside his closed door. Cassidy was walking over to the bathroom. Hanzo could hear his heart in his ears. His breathing picked up as he blinked, and the adrenaline inside of his stomach jumped all around. His ears perked to the sound of the toilet flushing, and the faucet running. Cassidy was washing his hands. Hanzo swallowed. 

     He looked himself in the mirror once more - up and down - having a panicked conversation with himself with his eyes. He grit his teeth and swallowed, but then he heard the bathroom door open. Cassidy was walking toward his own bedroom. It was now, or never again. Hanzo counted the steps. Five…four… three …!

     Hanzo moved to his own door and yanked it open harshly. 

     Violently.  

     Loudly. 

     He stepped out and turned his head to the right to look at Cassidy. Cassidy simply looked back at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. They looked at each other for a moment longer, until Hanzo exhaled and lowered his shoulders. Cassidy stared for just one more minute. His eyes moved from Hanzo’s eyes, to his neck as he breathed, and then back up to his lips.  And then without breaking his gaze… he shut the door to his room. 

     He walked to Hanzo - frozen in place in the doorway - until Cassidy closed the distance between them in speechless human comprehension. The cowboy pulled at the small of Hanzo’s back again, and tugged him in until their bodies touched. Hanzo linked his fingers behind the nape of Cassidy’s neck and gave himself over entirely. The cowboy leaned over and rolled his shoulders forward, fully removing the space between them.

     So much was happening so quickly. Cassidy walked them backward together as they kissed; lips on lips - tongue on tongue . Once they were in the room, Hanzo grabbed the door and swung it shut. He pushed Cassidy against it, before quickly coming back in. Hanzo’s lips were on Cassidy’s immediately, kissing and licking, and then he slid his tongue over the cowboy’s. Cassidy kissed back feverishly. His hands moved from the small of Hanzo’s back, to the apples of his ass cheeks, and then he squoze. 

     “Hngh!” 

     “Mmf..”

     They moaned and growled into each other’s mouths as they kissed. Hanzo felt a rising need within him, as their heads turned from side to side. Cassidy walked them backward again, shoving Hanzo’s back into the wall roughly. Hanzo heard one of the stock picture frames Cassidy had on the wall hit the floor. Neither man broke. They just kept kissing, as Cassidy laced his fingers through Hanzo’s and then held his hand up above his head. 

     Cassidy moved from Hanzo’s lips to his neck, kissing and sucking at the base of his collar. Hanzo gasped, running his other hand through Cassidy’s hair and grabbing a fist-full of it at the root to guide the cowboy to the other side of his neck. He closed his eyes and let out another moan, his voice full of hedonism and shame. The feeling of Cassidy’s lips against his throat coaxed out his desperation.

     “Yeah?” Cassidy growled from the crook of his neck . 

     “Yes…” Hanzo panted breathlessly. Cassidy reached between Hanzo’s legs, feeling for the girth beneath his pants. Hanzo was already rock hard and throbbing. He couldn’t remember the last time that anyone had touched him this way. His body was ready, and he wanted more. Hanzo scrunched his brow and looked at Cassidy, who came in for another kiss. 

     Cassidy mentally cursed himself for giving Hanzo a button down to wear. He fumbled clumsily with the buttons one by one as he kissed Hanzo, and pulled and nibbled on his bottom lip. Hanzo breathed in sharply at the feeling of teeth on his lips and growled, deepening their kiss even further. Tiring of Cassidy’s pace, Hanzo broke the kiss and quickly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. He took the shirt and suspenders off angrily, and threw them across the room. Cassidy crossed his arms at the base of his torso and pulled his own t-shirt up and over his head, both of them topless and tense with need.

     Cassidy kissed Hanzo again, and walked him back to the bed. The skin on skin contact escalated the wanton need between them. Hanzo could feel the arch of the mattress against the back of his leg, and broke the kiss to climb onto the bed. Cassidy climbed after him, before spreading Hanzo’s legs apart at the knee. He moved between Hanzo’s thighs and came in for another kiss, holding himself up by the arms as he ground his pelvis against Hanzo’s with long deep thrusts. The friction from their pants was driving them both insane. 

     Hanzo pulled Cassidy down on top of them so they laid flat. He licked the roof of Cassidy’s mouth as they kissed, and he felt the cowboy ram into him over and over again. He wanted it. He wanted it right the fuck now. Hanzo undid Cassidy’s belt and flung it across the room in one clean drag. 

     Cassidy smiled a toothy grin, and then came down for Hanzo’s neck again. Hanzo yelped and panted at the kisses, and Cassidy licked and sucked a perfect arc from one side of his neck to the other, leaving no part of his flesh untouched. But then he moved lower, kissing a trail down the center of Hanzo’s chest and then over to the left to take one of Hanzo’s nipples into his mouth. 

     Hanzo’s eyes flew open as he looked to the ceiling and then at Cassidy with a startled gasp. The sensation was entirely unfamiliar to him, though not unwelcome. But he was more accustomed to being the one in the driver’s seat, so to speak. This was…

     …He couldn’t think. He didn’t have time to think. Cassidy had moved to the other nipple, circling it with his tongue and then sucking on it tightly with his lips. His fingers moved to pinch and fondle the nipple he left, and Hanzo whined. Hanzo couldn’t believe the shameful noises he was making, but he couldn’t even close his mouth. He just couldn’t. 

     Hanzo felt Cassidy undo his belt and then he rose up at last. Hanzo took the moment to suck in a lung full of air, but Cassidy tugged at the bottoms of his pants and pulled them off in a powerful yank. Hanzo’s legs rose up with the pull, and then hit the bed once more with a bounce before Cassidy climbed between them again. The cowboy pulled down Hanzo’s boxer briefs and tossed them elsewhere, leaving Hanzo fully exposed and at his mercy. 

     Hanzo looked up into Cassidy’s eyes and swallowed. He moved to prop himself up and retract his legs to cover himself instinctively, but Cassidy was too fast. Cassidy grabbed the back of Hanzo’s ankle, and flung it with enough force to flip Hanzo over so that he faced the bed frame. Hanzo gave into the movement, but then turned to look back over his shoulder. 

     Slap!

     “Nngh!” 

     Hanzo grunted and his mouth fell open. He could feel the handprint on his ass where Cassidy had slapped his cheek. Hanzo grit his teeth and then bit his bottom lip. He turned around to glare at the cowboy, but then he felt Cassidy pry his cheeks apart, and then - 

     “A-ah!”  

     Hanzo yelped. Cassidy’s tongue flicked at his entrance. It was cold, and wet, and it circled around and around until it pushed in just a little. Hanzo’s arms gave out, he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He laid flat and defeated, his hands grasping helplessly at the sheets. Hanzo closed his eyes as every muscle in his body began to relax. Cassidy’s tongue was hungry and merciless, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

     Hanzo’s toes curled, and his eyes glazed over at the feeling of Cassidy eating him out. He could hear the sounds of Cassidy’s wet mouth devouring him from behind, and his lips quivered. Hanzo was at a complete loss for words, but the tension in his body had evaporated. Now he was just hard. Hard, and desperate. The sensation was too much. 

     “P-please…” he begged. His fist clenched and unclenched at the sheets once again, as his toes wriggled in overwhelming pleasure. “Please…I-I can’t…a-aah… ” he moaned. Cassidy continued for a moment longer, but then rose up and clapped a hand to Hanzo’s other ass cheek, and squoze the cleft. Hanzo found his strength and pressed up on his hands as he turned to face Cassidy. 

     “I need you to suck on these.” Cassidy brought his middle and ring finger to Hanzo’s lips. 

     “What?” Hanzo asked, wrinkling his nose and furrowing his brow in confusion. 

     “Trust me,” Cassidy panted. Hanzo blinked, still completely confused. He grabbed Cassidy’s wrist and gingerly took the fingers into his mouth. There was a moment of hesitation, but then he began to suck on them. He closed his eyes, trying to move past the awkward embarrassment, but he didn’t see that Cassidy had moved down between his legs…and taken his dick into his mouth.  

     Hanzo’s eyes flew open, and he pulled Cassidy’s hand out of his mouth sharply. His breathing hitched and he looked down, precum slipping from the tip of his shaft already. He throbbed. He ached. He wasn’t ready. He was so fucking ready. Cassidy let up from Hanzo’s thighs and lifted his head to face him. 

     “Keep sucking…” he panted breathlessly. Hanzo paused but then swallowed, and put Cassidy’s fingers back into his mouth. They sucked in tandem; Cassidy’s head bobbing up and down between Hanzo’s thighs, and Hanzo licking and slobbering on Cassidy’s two fingers. Hanzo felt Cassidy’s tongue trace up and down the veins of his dick, as he took it in over and over again. Hanzo was throbbing furiously.

     He started to thrust into Cassidy’s mouth as he worked, losing himself entirely to the heat. But he froze when Cassidy pulled his fingers from his mouth. Hanzo looked down to see what Cassidy was doing, but then he felt Cassidy’s fingers push into his entrance and he let out a noise that he would never live down. 

     “Relax, relax…” Cassidy urged with a whisper, coming up and off of Hanzo’s member. Hanzo’s eyes dilated like a cat’s in sight of prey. His lips quivered as he looked to Cassidy, who pushed in slowly…deeply . “Just relax…I’ve got ya. I’m right here…” Hanzo felt the constricting vines in his chest start to slack as he gave in to the moment. He fell back and let his head hit the pillow once more. 

     Then Cassidy went back to sucking his dick, and all Hanzo could do was blink and mouth silent praise. He had two fingers in his ass, and a wet mouth on his dick, and both were pumping at the same time. Hanzo grabbed his pillow and squoze. His legs were getting tight. His ass was starting to clench. He wouldn’t last much longer. 

     “C-Cassidy…!”

     Cassidy ignored him. He just moved faster, his fingers pressing in deep and then curling up inside of Hanzo. Hanzo whined and yelped, and then his hands flew to Cassidy’s head. He had reached his pinnacle. This was the end. He held him still and thrusted four times, and then filled his mouth with white hot cum. 

     Hanzo seized as he erupted - his chest hitching - his breath sharp and staggered. He grit his teeth, feeling every last bit of his energy drip into Cassidy’s wet mouth. They stayed still together until he was done, and then he fell flat on his back and writhed, completely out of breath. Hanzo came so hard, he felt himself rock from the sensation. His heart was beating triumphantly in the center of his chest. It took him a moment to realize what he had done. 

     “I-I…S-sorry…” Hanzo panted, forcing himself up to look at Cassidy. Cassidy just swallowed, before coming between Hanzo’s legs again. Hanzo flinched instinctively, but Cassidy gently lapped up the rest of Hanzo’s cum to clean him off. Hanzo shook his head in disbelief, before falling back onto his pillow. Then Cassidy moved up to hover over him. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. Hanzo was breathless and flushed, but Cassidy’s eyes were still dark and hungry. Even darker than before. 

     "Y’alright?” He asked. It was a mixture between a growl and a whisper. Hanzo just nodded. “You need a break?” Cassidy was panting, his eyes darting back and forth between Hanzo’s. Hanzo shook his head ‘no.’ “Han…” 

     “...do it…” Hanzo urged. Cassidy flinched with uncertainty, but Hanzo gave a small quick nod of reassurance. Cassidy moved down to kiss him gently. Hanzo gave himself over to the kiss, thankful that Cassidy offered him the moment’s reprieve. Cassidy kissed him slow, and much more gentle than before, sliding his arms under Hanzo's back on the bed. Their lips quietly popped between each kiss as Cassidy pulled back. But Hanzo could feel Cassidy’s throbbing erection through his pants as he laid on top of him. Hanzo broke their last kiss and swallowed. “…I can keep going…” he panted.

     "Turn over,” Cassidy whispered, and climbed off of the bed to take his pants off. Hanzo rolled stomach side slowly. He propped himself up on his elbows, and then leaned back onto his knees in a deep backward stretch . He felt Cassidy climb behind him to mount him, and then he felt the swollen heat of Cassidy’s dick against his wet hole. “This’ll pinch…You gotta breathe,” Cassidy urged, and Hanzo nodded hesitantly. 

     He could feel it. Cassidy had both hands on his ass, prying his cheeks apart with his thumbs. The head was pushing against Hanzo’s entrance, and Hanzo felt himself clench automatically. “Don’t,” Cassidy panted. “You gotta breathe…relax…It’s gonna hurt, and then it’ll go away…” he said. Hanzo unclenched and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, and loosened every muscle that he could feel in his body. 

     It tugged. It burned. It pinched. It hurt. Cassidy slid in slowly, and Hanzo closed his eyes tight. “Keep breathin’…shh...shh…just relax…” Cassidy said. Hanzo hadn’t realized he’d clinched again, until Cassidy put a hand under his own to take it. He relaxed and gave in, as Cassidy pushed in deeper and deeper. And then he stopped. “God damn…” Cassidy sighed, and then leaned over to kiss the back of Hanzo’s neck. 

     Hanzo was grateful for the distraction. He moved his head to the side so that Cassidy could kiss him deeper from behind, his jet black hair spilling over his shoulder in a cascade. Cassidy moved his hands from Hanzo’s hip and hand to rub his tight nipples, and Hanzo could feel himself starting to get hard all over again. But more than anything, Hanzo could feel Cassidy inside of him. 

     It was too much. 

     It was just right. 

     It felt invasive. 

     It felt wonderful! 

     Cassidy moved to the other side of his neck and then whispered “Tell me when I can move.” Hanzo brought them both down as he laid flat and face first into the pillow with a groan. But Cassidy just kept kissing his neck, and nibbling his ear. The penetration stung for what must have been a minute, but then he felt the tension in his ass fall slack. His muscles had given in, finally accepting the foreign invasion. He lifted up and nodded his head. 

     Cassidy gave him one last gentle kiss on the ear, and then pulled back slightly before thrusting in again just as slowly. Once…twice…and then he got back up on his knees. He put his hands on Hanzo’s hips as he rocked back, and then forth. Back…and then forth. In… and then out. Over…and over…and over again. It was slow, and sensational, and tantalizing. 

     “Fuck…”

     “Unh…!”

     Hanzo whined and his toes curled. He was utterly humiliated. He was completely fulfilled. He felt himself grabbing at the pillow and the bed sheets. He tried to look back, but he couldn’t. All he could do was give himself over to Cassidy. He surrendered, and the cowboy began to pick up speed. 

     Hanzo could hear the clap of his ass cheeks as Cassidy pushed himself in over and over again. “Fuck you’re so tight,” Cassidy grunted as he thrusted. Hanzo’s ass began to jiggle and his body rocked with each of Cassidy’s thrusts. The cowboy stopped holding back as he rolled his hips fully into Hanzo’s now, pressing him deep into the mattress.

    “Anh!” 

     Hanzo could hear the bed beginning to creak with their rhythm. The headboard clacked against the wall over and over again, and Hanzo lost himself to the feeling. He couldn’t tell when he was and wasn’t moaning anymore. It was entirely involuntary. Entirely automatic. He could barely even see straight. The stimulation washed over him and drowned him in all encompassing bliss. 

     Then he felt Cassidy pull out and flip him over. Hanzo looked up to him, but Cassidy came in once more, wrapping Hanzo’s legs over his hips as he pushed in again. 

     “A-aah!” 

     “Fuck yes!” 

     Cassidy picked up the pace immediately. He came down to kiss Hanzo, who took his lips in greedily, panting in what few seconds they had between their kisses. A bead of sweat from Cassidy’s forehead dripped down onto Hanzo’s as their tongues wrestled, and Cassidy slammed into him over and over again. “Fuck…Fuck Han I’m close,” Cassidy warned. He rolled them over so that Hanzo was mounted on top of him. Hanzo threw his hands down to each side of Cassidy’s head to steady himself. 

     Cassidy clapped both of his hands to Hanzo’s ass and brought him down onto his dick with full force. Hanzo yelped as Cassidy dug his heels into the mattress. The cowboy began to thrust up and into him like an engine's piston. He pounded Hanzo furiously, kneading and folding his ass onto his dick with each stroke. “Fuck…I’m gonna cum!” 

     “Ggh!”

     “Oh fuck…!”

     Cassidy erupted. Hanzo’s eyes widened in astonishment, as his brain processed the experience of Cassidy cuming in his ass. The Cowboy thrusted into him powerfully as he shuddered beneath him. They stayed that way until Cassidy lurched forward with breath, and then fell flat on his back. Hanzo felt Cassidy’s dick slip out of him, and then he rocked over onto his side, hitting the mattress with a thud. 

     Cassidy laid flat with his arms splayed out. He looked up to the ceiling as he breathed, taking the moment to close his eyes. His swollen girth slowly shrank down as he recovered, the sensation of overwhelming pleasure fading to fatigue. He swallowed. “Whew…thank you Han..I needed-”

     Cassidy immediately sat up. Hanzo was trembling on his side. The naked cowboy leaned over Hanzo and turned his head to face him. “Han? Han! Say something!” Hanzo shivered, but his eyes slowly looked up and focused on Cassidy. Cassidy felt his chest for his pulse. “Han come on…your heart’s going crazy! What’s happening? You having a seizure? Low blood sugar?” 

     Hanzo couldn’t say anything. He was trying to talk but the words wouldn’t come from his mouth. He was frozen, but he was shaking. Cassidy jumped up from the bed and ran to his room recklessly. He was back in an instant, climbing onto the bed with Hanzo and speaking with someone on the phone. 

     Hanzo tried to wiggle his toes. He could. He could feel his legs. He could feel his back. He could feel everything but all he could do was shake. He trembled next to Cassidy for what felt like forever, but then he heard Cassidy speak softly to him. “Han…you’re having a panic attack.” 

     Hanzo still shook in place. Cassidy slid his leg between Hanzo’s and pulled him close. Hanzo only shook more. “Han…listen to me… breathe … I’m right here … Just breathe… ” Hanzo kept shaking, but his eyes found Cassidy’s. Cassidy breathed in dramatically. Instructively. He inhaled to the point of his chest looking visibly inflated and fit to burst, and then exhaled slowly. Hanzo imitated the motion in shorter, less controlled spurts.

     “B-breathing…” He stuttered. 

     “That’s good. Just keep breathing. When you can...tell me three things you can see,” Cassidy urged with a reassuring nod. He continued breathing, and Hanzo tried to match his pace. They stayed together, looking into each other's eyes as Hanzo finally felt himself beginning to slow down. 

     “Eyes…p-pillow…lamp…” Hanzo said. Cassidy nodded, still looking into Hanzo’s eyes and breathing. 

     “Gimme three things you can hear,” Cassidy said. They laid together still, and Hanzo felt himself regaining control. He continued breathing. 

     “The bugs…” he swallowed. “The b-bed…your voice…” Hanzo said. He nodded, and Cassidy nodded right back. 

     “Yep…you’re right here, that’s right… right here with me,” Cassidy urged. Hanzo felt the tremors slowly dissipate into a few final shakes. “I need you to move three things…whatever you want…whenever you’re ready…” 

     Hanzo took in one last deep breath, and then moved his hand up to Cassidy’s chest. Cassidy gently placed his hand over Hanzo’s in response. Hanzo moved his leg that was resting on top of Cassidy’s. And then he came in closer. 

     “I-I’m…I’m s-sorry…” Hanzo stammered. 

     “Don’t be sorry, Han…It happens….I’m right here…just keep breathing for me…” Cassidy whispered. He slid in closer and kissed Hanzo’s forehead. Hanzo lingered for a moment, but then closed his eyes and slumped. He could feel the gentle tracing of Cassidy’s finger against his back. He could feel the air from Cassidy breathing into his hairline. He was steady. He was calm. He was okay. 

     "I’m right here…”

Chapter Text

     Hanzo was already awake. He knew it cognitively, but he wanted to pretend for a little while longer. The truth that he would never admit to himself, was that this felt wonderful. Cassidy was naturally warm. It was as if the cowboy was a human furnace. Even now, with Hanzo selfishly wrapped in damn near the entirety of the blanket, Cassidy was the warmer of the two. And his own body heat radiated off of him invitingly. 

     Cassidy slept on his back, with his legs splayed apart. One arm was at his side, but the other was tucked under Hanzo’s neck, so that the archer could lay his head on the cowboy’s chest. Hanzo had taken the cowboy’s right leg hostage, draping his own leg over it while his arm hung across Cassidy’s ribcage. He didn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep, but this was the deepest slumber he’d had in quite some time. 

     If time stopped here, he wouldn’t mind. It would only be a minor inconvenience, in truth. He could lay this way with Cassidy indefinitely, so long as the cowboy remained asleep and oblivious to Hanzo’s vulnerable state. He would even suffer the blinding morning sunlight that beamed into the room, and made the cowboy’s skin appear two-toned.  But he knew better. This wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. 

     Hanzo ignored the protestations from the untrained side of his mind. He needed to get out of here, before Cassidy came to. He slowly opened his eyes, and inched his head up and away, his hair brushing over the arc of Cassidy’s shoulder. Cassidy kept still, even as Hanzo sat upright on the side of the bed and removed the blanket. Hanzo was still naked. Cassidy was still naked. And the room smelled like potent semen and warm skin. 

     Hanzo crept back to the dresser and grabbed clothes to wear; a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and a clean pair of boxer briefs. He looked back once more. Cassidy was still asleep. Hanzo moved the clean clothes to one arm, and then gathered all of his own dirty clothes into the other, before tiptoeing out of the door and closing it behind him. 

     He went downstairs first to set his clothes in the washer and run the cycle, and then came back up to slip into the shower. As he washed, images flashed across his mind wherever the water hit his body. When he turned to scrub his back, he remembered his back hitting the wall, and then Cassidy’s lips on his neck. Then he washed his chest and flashed back to the way the cowboy had taken his nipple between his teeth. Hanzo could feel himself getting hard again. 

     He ignored it, and redoubled his efforts in eviscerating any evidence of last night’s escapades. Every trace of Cole Cassidy needed to be erased from his body entirely. He scrubbed furiously and tested himself for the smell, making certain that he was cleansed to perfection before cutting off the water. But he could hear the bed springs creak from his room. 

     Cassidy had woken up. Hanzo held still, swallowing with sudden nerves. “Han?” Cassidy called groggily. Hanzo didn’t answer. “Han, you there?” Hanzo just remained still. He could hear Cassidy’s steps on the wooden floorboards. He was approaching the bathroom, but then he stopped. They both stood still for a moment, but then Cassidy stepped off to his own bedroom.

     Hanzo waited until he was certain that Cassidy was tucked away, before leaving and going to his own room. He checked to make sure that the mission briefcase hadn’t been compromised, but it was exactly where he left it - untouched, alongside his bow. He stripped the sheets from the bed and tossed them to the door, and then gathered his hair back into its usual bun. Then he spritzed himself in his fragrance to combat the room’s musk. He gave the area one last look over, before grabbing the sheets and listening for Cassidy once more. 

     At first he couldn’t hear anything, but after a moment there was another familiar creak on the floorboards heading to the door. Hanzo held still, hoping that Cassidy was heading to the bathroom. He wasn’t. The cowboy stopped outside of Hanzo’s closed door, and then knocked. Hanzo sighed, but then reached for the knob. He opened the door to see Cassidy standing in his doorway.

     “Hey,” Cassidy drawled. 

     “...Hello.” Hanzo looked into Cassidy’s eyes for a split second before stepping back from the door and looking away. He was wearing boxers and a tank-top, and his hair was still ravaged from the night before. The Cowboy pushed it back with a sweep of his hand. 

     “....Y’alright?” He asked quietly. Hanzo turned to look at him then, scanning his body language for hidden meanings. He picked up genuine concern. Honest worry. That was when Hanzo remembered what had transpired between them at the end. And the way that it had been Cassidy who had brought him back from… whatever that was.  

     “...That has…never happened before. I apologize. I do not know what came over me, but it was not my intention to cause you distress,” Hanzo explained. Cassidy leaned on the doorframe, keeping Hanzo trapped in the room. 

     “Yeah, I uh…I tried to look into it a little after you fell asleep. Something called post-coital dysphoria. It’s not uncommon. Sometimes it turns into a depressive spiral. Sometimes it’s heightened anxiety. Looks like you’re the latter,” Cassidy explained. Hanzo just blinked in confusion, having no knowledge of this in his mind. Cassidy snapped him back to the present. “But you feelin’ alright now, right? Anythin’ I can do for you?” 

     “...You called someone yesterday. Was it Angela?” Hanzo asked. His heart froze at the thought. 

     “Nah. Local doc. Didn’t know if you needed an ambulance,” Cassidy explained, standing up off of the doorframe now. Hanzo swallowed and looked away. The familiar sting of guilt crept up inside of him. 

     “Thank you Cassidy. You have done more than enough,” Hanzo said, and then stepped forward, pushing past Cassidy. The cowboy walked after him. 

     “Han,” Cassidy called. Hanzo continued down the stairs. “Han, hold up a sec,” Cassidy said, thumping down the stairs after him. Hanzo continued to the wash, setting the blankets down on top of it before turning to face Cassidy. Cassidy appeared to be at a loss for words. He scratched his messy head again. 

     Hanzo arched one eyebrow at Cassidy, who seemed to be searching himself for the right thing to say next. One thing was certain; he was entirely too comfortable walking around in his underwear. “Was there something else?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Well I mean…” Cassidy began, with a small smile. Hanzo blinked. Cassidy summoned his courage. “Well I mean… last night …”

     “Yes. Congratulations on your victory. Are you satisfied?” Hanzo asked. Cassidy flinched. 

     “...Why you acting like that?” Cassidy asked, frustration flickering across his face. 

     “Like what?” Hanzo asked, keeping his tone steady, and purposely indifferent. 

     “Like…” Cassidy began, but then squinted his eyes, searching Hanzo’s expression. Hanzo watched the cowboy recoil from him. His heart ached, but he let it endure the torment. It was better this way. Hanzo knew that the night before was nothing more than the result of an overindulgence of whiskey. Were he in his right mind, he would never have compromised himself so. The sooner Cassidy came to grips with that, the better. Cassidy blinked and stepped back. “...nothing then…I guess...” 

     “Very well. I will require the washer and dryer for the morning, but I should be out of your way momentarily. Apologies for the inconvenience,” Hanzo said, and turned away. There was a moment before Cassidy stepped off, and made his way for the stairs again. He waited until he heard Cassidy’s door close, before lowering his hackles. 

     Hanzo went to the kitchen. The upstairs water started running. Cassidy was showering. Hanzo sighed again, and went to the refrigerator to grab a couple of eggs. He set them to prepare, reaching for soy sauce, butter, and green onion. He cooked them to the perfect scramble before plating them. The thought crossed his mind to cook some for Cassidy, but he stood rigidly in place. He needed to rip off the bandage. This hurt right now, but they would both feel better if things went back to the way they were. It was the only way. 

     The water cut off. Hanzo grabbed his plate and moved to the table. He took a bite, but he was waiting. Listening. Cassidy had gone back to his room. Hanzo took another solemn bite. In time, he heard Cassidy come down the stairs. But instead of joining him in the kitchen, he immediately went for the door. Hanzo stood up to go after him. 

     Cassidy threw on his hat and gloves. Hanzo approached and asked “do you require something?” 

     “Going for a ride.” It was gruff. Clipped. Angry. 

     “...Your stitches…” Hanzo cautioned. 

     “I’ll be fine Shimada . Keys for the truck are on the shelf. Lock the door if you leave.” Hanzo flinched at the name. He didn’t realize he had gotten used to ‘Han.’ Cassidy yanked the door open, and the daylight flashed in aggressively. Hanzo moved to cover his eyes, but then the cowboy pulled the door closed behind him and bounded down the front porch stairs. 

     Hanzo just breathed. Half of him wanted to chase after Cassidy. The other half was relieved the cowboy left. He needed time. He needed space. He needed a moment alone with his thoughts. Hanzo walked back into the kitchen, but then flinched when he heard the dramatic rev of Cassidy’s hoverbike from outside. He listened as the Cowboy blasted off onto the road with reckless abandon. Hanzo only sighed. 

     He sat with his eggs, scooping up another fork-full. But he couldn’t bring it to his lips. He wasn’t hungry. He pushed the plate aside and buried his forehead into his palms, as he let his elbows rest on the table. He pressed his fingers deep into his scalp and massaged, doing his best to self-soothe.

     There were too many variables to consider. He walked himself through his situation, and gave himself the rare permission to be selfishly honest. That had been without a doubt the best sexual experience he had ever had. He had hired company in his time with the Shimada, but it was clinical. It was so that he would be sufficient in the deed when he at last took a wife. No part of his mind had ever even wandered in the direction of men. 

     Or had it? Had he been suffocating his urges the entire time? Was this yet another weakness - another part of him - that he had snuffed out in pursuit of being the perfect son? No. There had only been women. 

     ‘Right?’

     He shook his head. It was cruel to ponder that now. The night before had been the result of a competition gone awry. A drunken slip, soon to become a scandalous anecdote. He felt his chest tighten again, and his heart began to seize. Then he remembered himself shaking. And then he remembered Cassidy’s deep whisper. ‘I’m right here.’ 

     Hanzo slammed his fist onto the table, snapping himself out of his trance. He was breathing sharply through his nose. He looked around,  checking to see if anyone was there to witness this lunacy. He was alone, and thankful for the solitude. His shoulders fell as he slumped again. 

     ‘You’re always so serious, Hanzo.’ It was his mother’s voice this time. His eyes stung with the threat of tears. He blinked them away quickly. From the corner of his eyes, he could see that his hand was starting to shake again. He clenched his fist, and then released, walking himself through a breathing exercise to still his nerves. For a moment, it seemed to work. 

     And then he remembered that the entire reason that he’d been deployed here, was so that he could keep an eye on Cole Cassidy, and detain him should he seek to betray Overwatch and enlist with Talon. Cole Cassidy, whom he’d just let charge off on his hoverbike at breakneck speeds. And he had no idea where he was going!

     <<SHIT!>>

*****

     If Hanzo could clench his jaw any tighter, his teeth would shatter into shards and he would surely swallow them in folly. His heart was pumping. His grip on the steering wheel was tight enough to whiten his knuckles. 

     He had fallen out of practice driving. He had his license of course, as was expected for one such as himself. But for the better part of his upbringing, he had a driver. And even after he defected from his family, It was usually more practical for him to use trains, cabs, and ride-sharing apps, so that he wouldn’t have to stash an unmarked vehicle somewhere. Him having a car was unnecessary, so he never bothered. 

     And this vehicle was huge. It was wide, tall, unwieldy, and selfish. American made - no doubt. Its imposing structure took up an inordinate amount of space on the bumpy back road. And if all of that weren’t enough to send Hanzo’s temper through the roof, he remembered the hard way that Americans drive on the right side of the road, rather than the correct side, when he unwittingly entered into a game of chicken with an eighteen wheeler. 

     But as fast as this screaming metal death trap was driving, his mind was racing even faster. How was he supposed to find Cassidy? The hoverbike left no trail on the ground, on the count of it being a god damned hover bike . There was no sound for miles beyond the ones the truck was making, so it wasn’t as if he could just listen for him. And he hadn’t thought to put an actual tracker on the cowboy, or his bike for that matter.

     'Careless.’

     Hanzo sped up as he drove. He was heading in the direction of Johnny’s bar. They hadn’t passed the house in any of their travels together, so wherever Cassidy went was most likely in the same direction as the one they’d traveled before. He was approaching the town limits. He took a breath and slowed down. 

     His eyes flicked about from side to side, searching for Cassidy, or even anything out of the ordinary. The truck crawled up the main road, and continued slowly into the little town. The area was certainly populated. Not as densely as what he was accustomed to, but for the middle-of-nowhere Texas this was truly a busy day. He was panicking again. He would never find Cassidy in this.

     Hanzo swallowed, as his GPS gave him the final directions to Johnny’s bar. When he arrived, there was another car parked there already. Hanzo pulled in a few spaces away from it, and put the truck in park, before heading for the bar. Inside, Johnny was behind the counter talking to the only other two people there. There was a white haired woman wearing black cowboy gear, with jet black nails and a venomous shade of red lipstick. She sat at the bar counter, next to a rather large omnic, wearing an ill-fitting open vest, and a tiny hat. Hanzo approached.

     “Koichi,” Johnny announced boisterously. “Good to see you again.” 

     “John, I must speak with you at once. Has-” Hanzo began, but then Johnny interrupted him very loudly. 

     “Hey, Koichi, let me get your opinion on this. I’m starting to branch into making signature cocktails. I call this one route sixty six ,” Johnny said. He leaned in as he said the name, and brought a clean glass to the counter, before quickly gathering a few different liquors. Hanzo made an angry face. He went to speak, but then he heard the woman at the bar.  

     “...Bob, I think we’ve got him for sure this time,”   the woman drawled. Hanzo presumed she was talking to the Omnic, who only blinked and nodded in response. “He won’t even know what hit him. It’s about damn time he got what’s coming to him…” she said, taking a slow drink from her glass of whiskey. She was drunk, but she was someone else’s problem. Hanzo had more pressing matters to attend.

     “John, please. I do not have time to try this. I need to find -” Hanzo began but Johnny interrupted again, just as loudly and abruptly.

      “That’s right Koichi, I call it route sixty six.  You know? Like get your kicks on route sixty six. What do you think about that name? Route sixty-six,” Johnny said, looking at Hanzo with wide open eyes. Hanzo paused, searching for the meaning in Johnny’s candor. 

     “Johnny why do you keep saying that? You’re gettin’ on everybody’s nerves. Ain't he Bob?” The white haired woman drunkenly slurred. It was then that Hanzo caught on. Johnny was giving him a code message. They were in mixed company. Whoever this woman was, she knew Cassidy . 

     “Yes. Route sixty six …correct? Is that how you say it? Forgive my accent, I am foreign…” Hanzo asked with his eyes narrowed. Johnny nodded his head yes with an exaggerated urgency. 

     “Yeah, I’m gonna call it route sixty six . I think it’s catchy. And the liquor is well hidden so it sneaks up on you. Like an ambush ,” Johnny said deliberately. Hanzo’s eyes widened, and then he heard the woman hiccup. But the Omnic wasn’t drinking. He just loomed over her head, and cast a glance in their direction. Hanzo quickly chugged the drink that Johnny placed in front of him. 

     “My apologies, Johnny. Your drink is wonderful, but I must depart,” Hanzo said, breathlessly reeling from the alcohol he just shoved down his throat. 

     “On the house Koichi,” Johnny said with those same wide eyes, and then surreptitiously turned away. Hanzo looked at the woman and the omnic once more, but they paid him no mind, now that Johnny was coming back their way. He quickly turned away with a brisk walk to the exit, when he heard Johnny say “well boss, what do you think? Gonna do another one, or is that your last?” 

     Hanzo pushed the door open and jogged back to the truck. He jumped up into the front seat and closed the door, plugging in directions to route sixty six into his phone’s GPS. He was twenty minutes away. 

*****

     Against all odds, Hanzo found the bike. It was parked outside of a rundown motel called ‘ the Cave Inn.’ Hanzo assumed the pun was intended. He parked next to it and cut the engine, reaching for his bow and arrow, and equipping himself for battle. Then he looked into the mirrors to case the area, remembering that Johnny had warned him of an ambush. Thus far, there were no signs of anyone, and no evidence of a recent conflict. Hanzo quietly stepped out of the truck, before closing the door behind him. 

     From the bike’s side, he could see Cassidy’s flat footprints plain as day. They led into the motel. Hanzo followed the trail with his eyes, until he saw that those same tracks that went into the building, also left the building alongside another pair. Whoever this person was, they were slightly less heavy footed. The tracks continued out into the parking lot, and then disappeared. Tire treads took their place. Cassidy had gotten into a car from here. The trail went cold. 

     Hanzo swore in Japanese. He looked off into the distance, bringing his hand to his forehead to protect his eyes from the sunlight. At first there was nothing, but then If he squinted he could see a structure. Whatever it was, it was his only hope. If he had lost him - If Cassidy had been taken, or worse if he had actually joined Talon …

     …He couldn’t let himself think that way. He jogged in the hot sun, following the tire tracks to what looked to be a gas station in the distance. As he ran closer and closer, his eyes found their focus. The sign above it read ‘ Big Earl’s self-service.’ Hanzo sped up, sprinting as quickly as his legs could move now. The air was dry and hot, and the oppressive heat beat down on his exposed skin. But he would have to worry about solar radiation later. Right now what mattered was getting this mission back on track. 

     His heart was racing. The tire tracks had turned into the gas station. Hanzo made it to the building and immediately pressed his back against a wall, and folded his bow flat against his body. The area appeared to be empty to the eye, but he could hear a door open and close, and then there were footsteps. They were Cassidy’s footsteps - he could tell by the gait. And then he could hear Cassidy’s voice. 

     Hanzo bent into a crouch and gathered an arrow from his quiver.  The adrenaline of the moment coursed through his veins. His feet were silent, as he lunged into the shadows cast by the gas station, to move around to where Cassidy would be standing. The cowboy was leaning against a black and white cargo van. Hanzo deduced that it was military, given the tinted windows and outer armor. This vehicle was designed for combat. 

     “How long of a drive we lookin’ at to get to the rendez-vous point?” Cassidy asked. Another man answered. He was wearing a black and white suit, and sweating in it profusely. 

     “Shouldn’t take more than an hour or so,” the man said in a horrendously fake Italian accent, as he jostled the handle for the gas pump. Hanzo’s eyes widened, and his heart shattered like glass. Ana had been right! A rendez-vous point meant that Cassidy intended on meeting with someone the entire time. And judging by the military grade of this vehicle, it was someone he had no business meeting. Cassidy was going to betray Overwatch! Hanzo leapt from his hiding spot and knocked his arrow, pulling the bow back tight. 

     “Don’t move!” Hanzo barked. Cassidy’s eyes shot wide open, alongside the other man’s. The cowboy gestured as though he were going to go for his gun, but the sight of Hanzo stopped him in his tracks. The initial shock of the moment had frozen them both in a processing loop. But then the moment faded, and Cassidy’s expression lowered with grim comprehension. 

     “...There was no other mission. You knew the whole time…didn’t you?” Cassidy asked sadly. Hanzo could feel the sorrow wash over his heart, from the break in Cassidy’s voice. He pushed past the feeling urgently, and steeled himself in purpose. It seemed the cowboy had finally realized what caliber of man he was dealing with: A man who finished the job, no matter the circumstance. 

     “Raise your hands. Slowly .” Hanzo growled. Neither man moved. Hanzo glared, channeling the hard light of his tattoo sleeve. The twin dragons circled his arm dangerously. Hungrily . Hanzo felt himself waver, succumbing to their rage. Cassidy slowly lifted his hands into the air. The sweating suited man did the same.  

     “Hands on the car. Both of you. Now! ” Hanzo barked. Cassidy sighed and put his hands on the car alongside the other man. Hanzo hesitantly crept forward, with his bow and arrow drawn the entire time. He went to Cassidy first, muscles tense and ready to react in case of a physical struggle. But the cowboy made no move to resist. Hanzo came in close, and then reached around Cassidy’s waist to strip him of his holster, containing his revolver and grenades. 

     “ Shimada ,” Cassidy growled. Hanzo ignored him, stepping back again to put a healthy distance between himself and Cassidy. “Listen…whatever you think is going on, you don’t know the whole story. Just put that thing down and we can talk about this,” Cassidy cautioned. He stayed facing the car. Hanzo approached the other man. 

     “Identify yourself! Are you with Talon?” Hanzo asked. The man just kept silent. The thought crossed Hanzo’s mind to threaten him, but he would do better in bringing the operative back alive.  Hanzo approached anyway, keeping one eye on this man, and another on Cassidy, looking for the slightest hint of physical retaliation. Neither moved, save for the sweating man’s trembling panic. Hanzo gave the man a pat down, finding his gun and taking it from the operative. 

     Hanzo stepped back once he was certain the operative was fully disarmed. The operative waited, and listened for the sounds of Hanzo unloading his gun. When he heard the click of the release, he banged loudly on the side of the van. “We’re blown! I need help out here!” Hanzo noticed that his Italian accent was no longer intact, instead having reverted to the same southern twang as Cassidy’s. Both Hanzo and Cassidy were startled. 

     The back doors of the Cargo Van opened hastily. Hanzo saw six … seven … eight men jump out of the back of this van. They wore hoods and hard hats, goggles, bandanas, and miscellaneous equipment. It was clear that everything they had was pilfered, because none of it was uniform. But they did share one commonality; a skull and crossbones insignia. That, and the fact that they were all armed to the teeth. 

     They spilled out of the van like a cluster of exposed insects from beneath their rock shelter. Hanzo knocked an arrow and pointed it in their direction, but they were all armed and fanning out. He couldn’t take them all; not in one shot, anyway. “What is the meaning of this? Stand down! I will shoot!” Hanzo warned. None of them lowered their weapons. 

     “...They’re Deadlock,” Cassidy said, walking back towards Hanzo. Hanzo glanced at Cassidy momentarily to make sure he wasn’t up to anything, but then his eyes darted back to the crowd of men.

     “Damn straight,” one of the men said, cocking his gun despite Hanzo’s warning. Hanzo turned his arrow onto him, assuming he was the de-facto leader. “ Little birdy told us you’d be swinging into town looking for some military folks…but I don’t think they wanna see you, Cole ,” he said, and the others all readied their weapons. There were too many of them. Hanzo knew that he could handle this, but not without risk of injury. And that was just thinking of himself. It was apparent that they were here for Cassidy. 

     “So what? You're here for the bounty on my head, then?” Cassidy asked. He sounded entirely too calm for these odds.  

     “Sixty million ain’t enough to settle your debt with the gang,” the man said, and raised his gun to Cassidy’s head. “But it’s a damn good start!”

     “Shimada-!” Cassidy yelled.

     “SCATTER!” Hanzo deliberately fired an arrow at the ground. The arrow broke off into several other arrows that fired off into different directions. The cowboy and the archer ran in crossing paths, each of them ducking for cover. 

     “Shimada, throw me my gun!” Cassidy screamed. Hanzo ignored him. There was gunfire everywhere. The gang broke off into two, with the majority of them chasing after Hanzo as he darted behind a structure beam, and then quickly scaled the roof of the gas station. Cassidy ducked behind the armored vehicle, but Hanzo could see that he was being flanked. “HANZO, COME ON!”

     Hanzo scowled, doing quick math. He peaked around the sign, but a bullet whizzed past his face. He was outnumbered. He couldn’t take them all on his own, and get both of them out of here alive. And he was only supposed to kill Cassidy if he defected to Talon and there was no other option. This wasn’t that. This was an unanticipated ambush by some group of amateurs called the Deadlock Gang. Hanzo quickly made peace with the inevitable; he would have to deal with the cowboy after. Hanzo gathered the belt of bullets and bombs, and tossed them over the roof side to Cassidy. The cowboy caught it with a grunt. 

     “GET THEM!” The gang leader yelled. Cassidy broke into a cold sprint, and then tumbled beneath a ridge. He had the low ground, but this meant that only Hanzo could shoot him from this distance. If he kept low, the elevation would act as his barrier. Hanzo took the moment of distraction to line up a shot of his own, pointing an arrow straight for the gang leader’s throat. 

     “Shimada, don’t kill them! Shoot to disarm!” Cassidy barked. He tumbled again to a nearby boulder, and fired a shot. The bullet hit the side of one of the deadlock gang’s guns, prompting it to shoot on its own, before the gang member dropped it. Hanzo swore. He had blunt tips, but not enough of them. He reached into his quiver for a non lethal arrow, and fired it, dropping another of the gang members. Two down. Six left. 

     "Shit! This would’ve been hard enough with just Cole. With two of em-” one of the deadlock gang members whined. 

     “Shut up and fire! Or face Ashe your damn self!” The leader barked.

     “Hanzo, clay pigeon! Cassidy yelled, throwing a grenade into the sky. Hanzo took aim and hit it mid air. It was a flash bang. The blinding light and explosion made him recoil, but he found his footing again quickly. He couldn’t say the same for the gang, as they staggered and swayed from side to side in blinded confusion. “Now!” Cassidy yelled. The two worked together, firing shot after shot at each of the gang members, until each of them were either successfully knocked out by blunt arrows, or disarmed. 

     When the dust cleared, Cassidy walked forward. He picked up the gang leader by the front of his shirt, and snatched his bandana from around his mouth. “Listen here Bill . You tell Ashe that me letting you sorry bastards live is the last bit of my kindness . Y’all try this again, I ain’t holdin’ back!” 

     “Fuck you, Cassidy!” He spat. Cassidy punched him in the head with his mechanical arm. The gang leader passed out. Cassidy lit his Cigar and took a puff. But then he looked to the floor and saw Hanzo’s shadow, as it leapt off of the gas station roof and onto the floor behind him. The archer had his bow trained on him with an arrow knocked and ready. 

     Cassidy just sighed, and put his hands up. 

******

     It was ironic. Hanzo had lost the bet, but Cassidy hadn’t been this silent since the day they had met. But now that they were in his truck, and his hands were tied behind his back, the cowboy wasn’t saying a word. He just looked out of the passenger side window. 

     Hanzo drove on, content to travel in silence alongside Cassidy.  He had disarmed him fully, and put his gun and grenades in the truck bed with the hover bike. The only chance Cassidy had of getting out of this, was taking the wheel with his feet and tipping the truck mid drive. And if he tried, Hanzo knew exactly how he would handle that situation. Cassidy could come back with him conscious and bound, or unconscious and bloodied. Seeing as he made no attempt to resist, Hanzo thought to himself that perhaps the cowboy wasn’t as foolish as he let on. 

     Hanzo shot a glance at him in the mirror. He kept his face straight, but his eyes were a dead giveaway. He was frustrated. Sad. Betrayed . Hanzo snuffed out what little part of him felt sorry for Cassidy. The buffoon genuinely meant to betray Overwatch. His actions would have jeopardized all of their security, including Genji’s. 

     “So, was sleeping with me part of the mission packet? Or did you go off script?” Cassidy asked at last. That stung. Hanzo ignored him and kept his eyes on the road. “Who put you up to this, hunh? I know it wasn’t Winston. He ain’t that cold blooded.” 

     Hanzo just drove on. Cassidy stared at him for a moment, but then he let his head hit the glass window with a small thud. He shuffled about in his seat, just enough to make it clear that he was uncomfortable. Hanzo didn’t care. He needed to get Cassidy back to his house and then radio confirmation to Winston. 

     Cassidy closed his eyes and took a breath. “Shimada…Shimada listen to me. If any part of what happened last night was real for you, I need you to do something for me,” Cassidy said. Hanzo ignored him and kept driving. “I just want to take you somewhere. I won’t do nothing, I won’t try nothing, I promise. If you still feel raw about it, then you can turn me over. But you gotta at least know why I did what I did. I’m not who you think I am,” Cassidy urged. 

     Hanzo wavered for a moment. He kept his eyes forward, but he could feel Cassidy’s eyes on him, burning holes into his skull as he stared. “Hanzo… please, ” Cassidy asked once more, his voice the same tone as it was the night before. Hanzo took a deep breath. He looked out over the road. There were no cars. There was nothing. Just a stretch of land on the way back to Cassidy’s house. 

     He sighed, but then pulled over onto the side of the road. Hanzo put the truck in park, and turned to face Cassidy. He said nothing. Neither of them said anything. They just looked into each other’s eyes for the moment, breathing sharply to keep calm. Hanzo’s face was stern and irritable. Cassidy’s face was exhausted, but his eyes held a plea. Hanzo broke the silence at last. 

     “You believed you were meeting with Talon,” Hanzo stated.

     “I did,” Cassidy agreed. It was honest. 

     “Then you admit you intended to betray Overwatch,” Hanzo challenged.

     “I have my reasons,” Cassidy countered. 

     “Which you can explain to Winston -” 

     “I need you to trust me, damn it! I’ve earned that. And you damn well know it.” Cassidy growled. Hanzo had heard enough. He moved to start the car again, but his comm link to Winston began to ring. He froze. Winston never called him. Hanzo was normally the one to report in. Hanzo looked at the communicator, and then back at Cassidy. Cassidy just quietly shook his head ‘no,’ and whispered “Please.” 

     The comm link rang. Hanzo’s nostrils flared as he watched it. His logical mind told him to answer, but his intuition kept him frozen in place. There was more to the story. There had to be. He looked into Cassidy’s eyes once more. He was making the same face that he made the night before, as he coaxed Hanzo down from his panic. Hanzo looked from one eye to the other of Cassidy’s hazel hues. The comm link stopped ringing, and Hanzo snarled. He closed his eyes and rolled them, before reaching into his pocket and grabbing his phone. “Where are we going?” 

     “5927 Blackwood road,” Cassidy said. Hanzo shook his head, but then put the address into his GPS. It would be a two hour drive. Hanzo looked at Cassidy once more. 

     “I have instructions to kill should you resist,” Hanzo warned. Cassidy nodded. 

     “I know. I just need you to see this, so you understand.” They sat in silence for a second longer, but then Hanzo hit the button on his phone for audible directions. The GPS had him turn around, so he pivoted on the roadside before coasting back onto the pavement. Cassidy returned to sunken silence, sitting still on the passenger side. 

     The drive stretched on uncomfortably. Save for the hum of the truck’s engine, and the odd moment of Cassidy fidgeting, the ride remained silent. Neither man made any motion to continue the conversation. They stayed on the main highway as the sun began to lower beneath the open plains, until the GPS took Hanzo down an off-road. Then after a series of twists and turns, the GPS announced that Hanzo had arrived. 

     Hanzo looked at Cassidy, who blinked and looked askance. He was embarrassed. No, nervous . Hanzo felt his rage begin to boil. “If you’ve brought me to an ambush-”

     “Look around, Shimada . Ain’t nobody here but us,” Cassidy spat defensively. Hanzo turned his eyes back to the area before them. It was a spacious and abandoned trailer park. The area stood apart from the open green grass that they’d driven alongside before. Everything here was barren. It was a pitiful mound of dirt and depression, with beat up vacant trailers and tumbleweeds. 

     “What is this?” Hanzo asked at last, and then turned to look at Cassidy. The cowboy kept his eyes low and clenched his teeth. He swallowed before looking forward. 

     “This is where I grew up. Specifically that one, right over there,” Cassidy said with a head nod. Hanzo looked from Cassidy to the trailer the cowboy nodded to. It was withered and decrepit. There was dangerous rust in places where it didn’t belong, and stains and burns discolored the outer paint. Hanzo saw that the glass of one of the windows had been shattered, and he assumed the place had been broken into. But then he looked closer. Something had been thrown out of the closed window; not in.

     “This…is not even twice the length of your truck. And it appears to be held together by duct tape and spite. It is clearly not fit for living. But that is not enough to make me pity you, ” Hanzo said. Cassidy lowered his gaze again. Hanzo was familiar with the expression that Cassidy was making. He saw it in the mirror occasionally, when his mind wouldn’t let go of things he had hoped to forget.

     “No, I reckon it’s not. And you’re right, it is small. But for a woman with one child it wasn’t too tight. We managed,” Cassidy said. He was shaking. This place upset him. 

     “Your father passed, then?” Hanzo asked, knowingly. 

     “Never knew him. Mom didn’t like to talk about him either, so I stopped asking,” Cassidy said. Hanzo noticed the tick of Cassidy’s leg shaking with agitation. Cassidy just stared hard out of the window.

     “Why did you bring me here, if you knew it would upset you so?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Han…some shit went down in that trailer that I don’t dare talk about. I left when I was thirteen, and never came back. I swore I wouldn’t,” Cassidy confessed, clenching his teeth once more and swallowing. Hanzo relaxed, and waited for Cassidy to continue. “I’ve never shown anyone this place. You’re the only other person alive now who knows what shit hole I crawled out of.”

     The cowboy was choking back the tremble in his voice. “I…wandered for a bit. Worked the odd job here and there. A pork processing plant…a farm…” he rattled off, shaking his head. “But every now and again things got dicey. Had to fight more than once. One time I got into a nasty brawl on the job, and got sent off to prison. That’s where I met Ashe,” Cassidy said, letting his head hit the headrest on the passenger seat. Hanzo watched Cassidy’s Adam's apple as he swallowed. “We talked for a bit. She was rich, I could tell. But there was something else there. Something about her...” 

     Hanzo adjusted in his seat, keeping both eyes on Cassidy, all the while hoping he hadn’t been brought out here to hear of the cowboy bedding a woman. Cassidy continued. “She got out of lock-up first. Then when I got out, here she comes pulling up in her funky little oldsmobile. She took me up to her place. Turns out her family’s old money. Old gun money. They’re the number one distributor here in the south; Arbalest Arms. She gave me a revolver to replace the one the prison took from me. Told me she’d fallen out with her family. They were cutting her off on her eighteenth, so she was planning on robbing them blind and making her own inheritance.”

     Hanzo’s eyes widened. For an instant he wondered to himself why he hadn’t thought of that. It certainly would’ve made things easier in the beginning. Cassidy swallowed but kept talking. “I needed cash. I needed it bad. Shit gets real when you don’t know where your next meal is coming from. This was a golden opportunity, and I already had a record, so nowhere else was going to hire me. Not again.” Hanzo searched Cassidy’s expression for dishonesty, but the Cowboy was telling the truth. “I took her up on the deal. Joined her gang. We became Deadlock . Me, her, and her butler Bob.” 

     Hanzo remembered the woman from earlier, and the omnic next to her. She referred to him as Bob. He kept his reaction indifferent, but internally he was hooked. He needed to know more. Cassidy continued. “The beginning was rough, and we were at each other’s throats all the time. Ashe was bossy, and she never knew when to quit. Didn’t know how to work as a team either. But we kept at it. With enough time and practice, we managed to pull off a big heist robbing her family’s company.” 

     Cassidy rocked in his seat, moving to adjust his position before he spoke again. “That first one was more than enough, we could’ve walked away there. But the feeling got real good to us. One heist became two. Two became five. Next thing you know, we’re taking on more people. We’re robbing other companies. We’re bribing cops, switching hideouts, the whole nine yards. I needed money in the beginning, but I didn’t want to keep doing this. I had enough, but there was never enough for Ashe. She had something to prove.” 

     Hanzo couldn’t look away. Now that the Cowboy was ranting, the hitch in his voice was gone. Cassidy continued. “I told her we could stop, but she wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t see no way out but death. Lost myself to the bottle for a little while, trying to ride out the fast life as best as I could. But Ashe got too big for her britches, and had us pull an operation on Overwatch that went south real bad. I thought it was over for me. My record was a mile long. I was an over-qualified felon, headed to max for life. Then Reyes stepped in.” Cassidy closed his eyes as he spoke. Hanzo just listened.

     “He offered me a clean slate if I enlisted. Said he saw my skills on the playback, and offered to put’em to better use. My money was already in a nest egg, Ashe wasn’t coming, and a blank slate was exactly what I was looking for. I took him up on it. A while back I thought Ashe was my savior. No…it was Reyes .” Cassidy looked distantly out of the front windshield. He was looking past the trailer, out into nothing. 

     “He cleaned me up. Trained me. Introduced me to the right people. He couldn’t help me sober completely, but he got me to the point where I could manage. Everything was starting to turn around for me. I…don’t have the best track record…with men. I never have. But Gabriel fixed that. He fixed me , Han. I was broken . I thought I was too far gone…but he knew better. He believed in me,” Cassidy said. Hanzo could see the glossy moisture threatening Cassidy’s eyes. The Cowboy bit it back through sheer force of will. 

     “I was with him through it all. All of it . Everyone else was with Morrison, but Reyes always got the raw deals. It used to piss me off. I mean this was a good man! The best man. Overwatch set him up for failure time and time again. But in time…even I started to look at him funny. I mean…I could tell the pressure was getting to him. He was doing things that just didn’t make sense. And that only got worse when we started working with Moira and Gen-” He began, but then froze, shooting a cautious glance at Hanzo. 

     Hanzo nodded quickly, urging Cassidy to continue. Cassidy cleared his throat. “Moira was another doctor on Overwatch. Used to work with Mercy, but the Doc couldn’t stand her, and for good reason. She’s a bog dwelling witch - ain’t no other way to put it. But Reyes started turning to her for… enhancement . She put him through surgery after surgery, and it was cutting edge shit Han, I’ll tell you what. He could slip through walls. Get shot through the chest and it’d go right through him. Disappear and reappear in thin air. She turned him into a living ghost.” 

     Hanzo remembered Ana mentioning Dr. O’Deorain, and then the footage of Reaper attacking Winston. Cassidy continued. “But Reyes was slipping. Everything about him was changing. I think she messed with his head, Han, I really do. But too much was happening. Suddenly I’m hearing things around the compound about overthrowing Morrison, and coups and shit, I don’t-” Cassidy trailed off, shaking his head. “I couldn’t take it, Han. Overwatch was supposed to be about something, you know? But it was starting to look a hell of a lot like the Deadlock gang. And I…I just wasn’t doing that shit again…so…I left… I left him …” Cassidy’s voice was beginning to crack again. He shook with anger and frustration, and his eyes watered, but the tears wouldn’t fall.

     “Next thing I know, I’m hearing about Morrison and Reyes gunning each other down, and Overwatch getting shut down by the law. I got out right before it happened, but I couldn’t believe it. Reyes and Morrison fought all the time, but I kind of thought it was…you know…a-a thing. Like an old married couple’s thing. Reyes and I never talked about it, but I think I always kind of knew. And he knew too,” Cassidy said. His eyes were watering, but he still hadn’t cried. 

     “And I just knew he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t . Things could never get that bad. But here I am; brand new man, clean slate, walking around without a care in the world, all because Reyes saw something in me underneath all the trailer trash. And how do I repay him? I abandoned him, Han . I fucking left him .” Cassidy just shook his head, bewildered at his past self. 

     Hanzo looked away, staring out of his own window now. Cassidy had struck the chord and plucked the common thread of grief.  They sat in silence together in the truck. The sky was blue and sunless, but not dark enough yet for the moon and stars. Hanzo could feel the emotions pouring off of Cassidy. He kept his gaze fixed away to give the cowboy some measure of privacy to recoup. He didn’t turn his head again until he heard Cassidy speak. 

     “Thing is, I got a taste of being the good guy, and couldn’t let it go. Turned to bounty hunting for a while, but I never stopped thinking about him. Then they announced both of them dead, but it was a closed casket. No body, no face, no nothing. I mourned him every day, thinking I could’ve done something. But while I’m out working, I’m hearing something about a Reaper . Thought nothing of it at first, but then I heard about him doing shit like phasing through walls and teleporting. And he used shotguns. Reyes couldn’t aim worth a damn, so shotguns were his weapon of choice. It couldn’t be a coincidence.” Hanzo could predict where the conversation was going, but he let Cassidy continue.

     “I started looking for him. Started looking into Talon. I needed to get through to him. He saved me once…I thought if I could just return the favor…If I could save him? I’ve done a lot of shitty things in my life; I’ll never break even. But if Reyes is on the line…I’ve gotta try. I owe him that much. I owe him my life. ” Hanzo could feel his heart now. The archer swallowed.

     “...So you joined Overwatch to track him down? You…needed to see that he was alive?” Hanzo asked. 

     “He’s got no one else, Han. They all think he’s gone, but I know he’s still in there somewhere. Moira just…messed him up. I believe in Overwatch, I believe in Winston, but I’ve seen how this shit works . If anyone else gets to him first, everything he worked for goes down the drain. No one’s gonna remember the soldier that put his life on the line over and over again. They won’t tell you about how he gave everything he could, every time. The world will write him off as a criminal, and there ain’t no way back from that. No…I’ve gotta get to him first. Get him cleaned up. Get him away from her , and get him an exit like he did for me. I’ve got to… ” 

     Hanzo looked down and breathed, but then looked back up to Cassidy. The cowboy still wouldn’t look him in the eye, but now his eyes were going everywhere. He was desperate. There was panic. But none of this was a lie. Hanzo had been trained in interrogation, and he knew how to scan for falsehoods. Unless Cassidy was a master of deception, he had been telling the truth. Hanzo was frozen in contemplation. He struggled, but he found his words. 

     “...What will you do, if he does not comply? What will you do, if you cannot save him?” Hanzo asked. Cassidy sniffed the moisture back into his eyes, and turned to face Hanzo. 

     “I will save him. But if I can’t…then I gotta kill him myself. It’s the least I could do.” Both men looked into each other’s eyes now. Hanzo made one last scan for a tell. There was nothing. Cassidy meant it. It was Ana who said that Reyes had been like an older brother, or a father to Cassidy. Hanzo’s intuition finally relented, satisfied with Cassidy’s response. The nagging sensation in his stomach faded away.  

     But then the comm link rang once more, and both men looked down to it. Hanzo looked at Cassidy, and Cassidy looked away. “Do what you gotta do, Shimada . I’ve said my peace. I just couldn’t have you thinking I was…I ain’t like that.” Cassidy replaced the emotion in his voice with his usual bravado. Hanzo could feel the cowboy walling himself off in real time. The archer took a deep breath, and turned so that the comm link faced him, and not Cassidy. 

     “This is Hanzo.”

     “Hanzo, I’ve been trying to reach you! Is everything alright? Are you hurt? Has something happened?” Winston rattled off his questions with little space for air. 

     “I am alright, but I cannot speak for long. Cassidy is nearby but he is in the gas station. We were ambushed by a group called the Deadlock gang. Neither of us are injured, but the area may yet be unsafe. We make haste to return to his residence,” Hanzo whispered, keeping his voice hushed to make his lie more convincing. Cassidy looked confused. 

     “What? I-I didn’t realize that Deadlock was still active. If I had known, I never would have sent either of you out there!” Winston said, his eyes incredulous with worry.

     “We are unharmed,” Hanzo reassured the gorilla.

     “And Cassidy? H-has he…?”

     “I have not witnessed any suspicious activity. He did not even attempt to return to the Deadlock gang,” Hanzo lied. Cassidy’s mouth fell open. 

     “Thank goodness. Alright. Please, if you need anything-” Winston sighed with relief, but Hanzo interrupted him.

     “I must go. He returns.”

     “R-Right! Control - out.” Winston’s hologram blinked out of existence. Hanzo turned his comm link off as well, and then stashed it away. 

     “...You ain’t have to do that,” Cassidy said. 

     “We need to move. Winston can verify our location. If he does, he will know we are not at the gas station,” Hanzo said, grabbing a blade from his side. He cut the ties that bound Cassidy in place, and then opened the driver side door to step out. Cassidy slid over from the passenger side to the driver’s side, and Hanzo opened the passenger door, climbing up and into the seat.

     “You sure?”

     “Drive!” Hanzo barked. Cassidy turned the engine on and put his hand behind Hanzo’s headrest to turn around. He backed them up until he could make a clean turn, and then shifted into drive, getting them back on the road. Again, neither man said anything. They just rode together in contemplative silence. 

Chapter Text

Flashback

     <<Let’s eat!>> Genji cheered, clapping his hands together. 

     <<Go ahead,>> Sojiro responded with a small smile and nod. Genji immediately reached for the meat, scooping a sizable portion of saikoro steak onto his plate first, before making his way to the rice. It was a habit that he carried over from their childhood, and one that Hanzo had pointed out multiple times to be inconsiderate. But for whatever reason it was always charming when Genji did it, according to their parents. 

     Tonight, Hanzo ignored him. He was mentally trying to finish the poem he had been writing for Yuka, before he was delayed by the summons for dinner. He had attempted several times now to confess his feelings for her, but always fell short in the moment. Either that, or Genji would barge between the two of them and ruin everything with more of his childish antics. In his mind, Hanzo was torn between comparing her spirit to the first flowers that bloom after an ever enduring winter, or the fireworks that burst in the night sky during festivals. Neither felt right. 

     He assembled a colorful plate absentmindedly; rice, vegetables, and what little meat was left after Genji had had his way. Hanzo waited until after his father had poured his drink, and then reached for the bottle of wine to pour his own. Though still too young to drink publicly, in his home he was free to do as he pleased. More importantly, he wanted to break himself of the taste of sweet wines, in favor of the dry wines of his father’s refined preference. He would attend business dinners in due time as his father’s shadow. It behooved him to assume the roll with tact.

     The three ate without conversation. The sounds of chopsticks against bowls, clicking and scraping as they chewed their food rang out against routine silence. But all three men tensed to the feeling of familiar footsteps gently coming across the wooden floor outside of the dining room. Genji put his plate down immediately, setting his chopsticks aside with a quick <<excuse me,>> and rushed over to slide open the paper door. 

     <<Do you have room for one more?>> Their mother asked jokingly. She hadn’t been in the habit of joining the family for dinner. Her health was in steady decline. In efforts to conserve her strength, her meals were delivered directly to her private chambers, where she remained on constant bed rest. But for the evening, she pulled her hair into a bun at the base of her neck, and spun herself into a comfortable robe and slippers. 

     <<Mother! You should be resting,>> Genji chided, immediately coming to her side. She let him wrap a comforting arm around her. 

     <<Tonight I will be with my family. I was strong enough to make it down the hall alone. Allow me to celebrate, little sparrow >> she said. Genji walked with her to the tatami table, shifting her weight onto himself to help her balance. She was slight and frail now, but she marched in defiance of fate’s design, and took her place to Sojiro’s left. Genji let her go for a moment before fluffing a seat cushion for her, and then helping her ease down into a seated position. 

     Hanzo had already begun assembling a plate for her, and picked portions of steak from his and Genji’s plates for her to have, before calling for the servants to prepare more food. He expected Genji to protest, but for the moment his brother was more preoccupied with his mother’s comfort and unfamiliar presence among them. But it was Sojiro most of all, who couldn’t take his eyes off of his wife. He looked at her with both the love and desire of wanting her near, and the wisdom and hesitance of knowing that she shouldn’t be there. She only smiled at him briefly before putting her hands together. 

     <<Let’s eat,>> She said, and all three men smiled. Sojiro nodded before gently taking her hand into a small affectionate squeeze, and the meal resumed. Hanzo smiled with personal pride at his mother’s resolve, before taking in another helping of steamed vegetables. But rather than let the meal fall back into complacence, Genji picked up the conversation. 

     <<Father, how is business?>> He asked with a brown-nosing smile. Sojiro was in the middle of a bite. He swallowed quickly, before answering. 

     <<It is slowly returning to form,>> Sojiro replied. He noticed his wife had turned to look at him with a concerned expression, so he elaborated. <<An over-zealous new chief of police believes she will make her career by halting our family’s way of life. She came into knowledge of our supply routes and has launched a full scale attack on distribution. We were largely inconvenienced, it is true. But the recent earthquake in Hanshin required substantial donations in order to help the people find relief. Donations that the Shimada are all too happy to provide,>> Sojiro explained. Genji smiled in admiration.

     <<The question then is how did she come upon knowledge of our supply routes? And where will she strike next?>> Hanzo asked, before taking another bite. 

     <<No doubt the Tiger has fallen to a new low in jealousy. They were once the mightiest creatures on earth until the Dragons descended from the heavens,>> their mother said. It was a metaphor for the long standing feud between the Shimada and the Hashimoto, who sported Tiger tattoos where the Shimada bore their Dragons. She implied that the Hashimoto must have supplied the police with intel. Hanzo’s gaze fell in remembrance of their many attempts at conflict. They were the very reason he trained. 

     <<It is of no concern. The police need our cooperation in order to help the people back onto their feet. In acceptance of our support, they have agreed to stay out of our affairs. If she makes another attempt, she will be decommissioned. Now we need only make up for lost time.>> Sojiro said. His wife smiled with pride. 

     <<Nice moves Dad!>> Genji said, as the servants brought out another helping of food for the family to enjoy. Hanzo quickly snatched a few more pieces of steak before Genji could think to inhale the entire serving platter.

     <<Almost as nice as the one you are trying to pull on me now, little Sparrow. Keeping the conversation on me, so that I do not ask you about your report card?>> Genji choked on his rice and Hanzo smiled malevolently to himself. He had been waiting for this moment. His own grades were flawless as expected, but a grounded Genji would do wonders for his love life.  

     <<O-oh…um…>> Genji stammered. 

     <<You are falling behind in literature. That is unacceptable Genji,>> Sojiro said, and Genji shrank into his cushion under the weight of his father’s disapproval. 

     <<Father, I am trying. In my defense the texts that they are teaching are outdated and irrelevant to our way of life. They are needlessly lengthy, and say nothing of note. Perhaps if I had a different tutor - >> Genji explained, but Sojiro cut him off. 

     <<A change in tutor will not change the required texts set by your curriculum. You study the same literature that your peers in private school do, as you will compete in the same exams for the same places in university. You need to learn to apply yourself, without me needing to chase after you. You will not always be a child,>> Sojiro critiqued. Genji’s shoulder’s fell. Hanzo did his best not to laugh. 

     <<I will do better next time, Father.>> Genji said defeatedly. 

     <<See that you do,>> Sojiro warned, and resumed eating. Hanzo looked between Sojiro and Genji with confusion and frustration. He couldn’t believe that that was the end of the conversation. The notion did not go unnoticed. <<Something to add, Hanzo?>> Sojiro asked. It was phrased innocently enough, but there was implied danger. Hanzo’s anger propelled him onward.

     <<I received a B minus in geometry in the sixth grade. When you found out, you snapped my bokken over your knee and canceled my training until the end of the next semester. Genji is a year older than I was, and all he receives is a warning?>> Hanzo challenged. Sojiro set his chopsticks aside. 

     <<You were not applying yourself. I knew that you could do better, given the proper motivation,>> Sojiro rationalized. Hanzo’s nose wrinkled.

     <<And do you not believe the same of Genji, given the proper motivation?>> Hanzo mocked, his anger getting the better of him. Sojiro turned to look him in the eye. 

     <<I did not realize you were still angry about that. It was so long ago. Did I not buy you several swords to replace that one, Hanzo? Do you require another?>> Hanzo narrowed his eyes. 

     <<That is not what I am saying,>> Hanzo hissed, and Sojiro matched his gaze identically. Hanzo thought to continue, but his eyes drifted over to his mother, whose expression was pleading with him to let the subject go. Seeing her face, the anger within him quelled. <<Never mind Father. I apologize for the outburst.>>

     <<...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause problems. Hanzo is right…>> Genji said, his lip already quivering with hyperbolic shame. Hanzo shook his head rapidly. 

     <<I did not ask for your help. Eat your dinner,>> Hanzo spat, snatching his chopsticks and shoving his food quickly into his mouth. There was a moment of prolonged silence, until Sojiro spoke again. 

     <<I will have Yamagami come by to fashion you a new blade Hanzo,>> Sojiro conceded. Hanzo stabbed his chopstick into a dumpling. 

     <<That’s not the point, and you know it ,>> Hanzo countered, his nostrils flaring as he looked about the table.  

     <<Then what is the point, son?>> Sojiro asked, again careful phrasing, but his boiling temper was plain to the eye.

     <<I said never mind. Just let it go.>>

     <<Hanzo!>> Sojiro roared, and everyone flinched. Hanzo breathed heavily through his nose as he lifted his gaze to look into his father’s eyes. He saw anger. Exhaustion. Danger. He did his best to soften his visage, but his underlying rage would not relent. They stood locked in a duel of wills, until his mother broke into a fit of coughs. 

     Sojiro’s expression crumbled as he moved to grab her hand, but she waved him off and turned away from the food as she wheezed. Genji dashed to her side, rubbing her back and asking her if she needed anything. He moved to get her a glass of water, but she shook her head ‘no.’ Hanzo sank, fully disarmed. He let his head fall in shame at his childish reaction. The topic was unsuited for his mother’s return to the table. He owed her more than that.

     As he chastised himself mentally, he heard his father speak once more. <<You are at an age now, where you believe yourself all knowing. But if you have any room in your mind, allow me to give you this truth I learned too late. There are only two kinds of people in this world; those who want others to suffer as they have, and those who hope that no one suffers the way they have. I do hope that you mature into the latter,>> Sojiro said, rising from the table. He walked over to his wife, and squatted down to help her onto her feet.

     She gave herself over to his arms, and leaned on him as they left the dining room. Hanzo could hear her wheezed apologies and pardons as they shuffled along the wooden floor and out of sight. He could feel Genji’s eyes on him, but he didn’t dare meet his gaze. From the corner of his eye, he saw Genji gingerly reaching a hand out to him. 

     Hanzo stood up immediately and stepped away from both the table and Genji, calling for the servants to come clean up the plates.

*******

PRESENT DAY

     The evening was tense and awkward. The drive back to Cassidy’s house had been as silent as the drive to the trailer park, only now it was Hanzo who could only look out the window in frustration and contemplation. He had succeeded in shifting the burden back onto his shoulders - as was his usual preference - and now that it was locked into place, he sulked. He sulked all the way back to the house, and into a quiet cleaning frenzy. 

     He finished the laundry, remade the bed, and restored the room to its former state before their bout of drunken debauchery. He even took a vacuum to the floor, and to the windowsill, getting rid of any trace that he was ever there. It would need another cleaning on their last day, but for the moment this was tolerable. Though now that all of the tasks had been completed, there was nothing left to prevent him from ruminating on the day’s events. 

     Hanzo sat on the floor with his back against the wall of Cassidy’s guest bedroom, as he thought to himself. It wasn’t that he regretted covering for Cassidy. The Cowboy’s reasoning made sense to Hanzo in a way that few other things do. Gabriel Reyes was Cassidy’s family. If there was one thing that Hanzo understood, it was the importance of family. 

     But he had lied to Winston. Cassidy did intend to infiltrate Talon on his own; it just didn’t work out as he intended. The Deadlock ambush was a convenient half truth that Hanzo could scribble on the mission report, but he was still burdened with the complete story. Cassidy’s secret was now their secret. The pressure to declare a side fell onto Hanzo’s shoulders. 

     He tried sleeping, hoping to tackle the decision with a clear mind, but rest wouldn’t come. Too much had happened, and rather than being worn out, his body converted the stress into latent energy. He looked out the window for the moment, letting his eyes rest on the black night sky. His head hit the wall with a thump, and he just stared out into the expanse, hoping the answer would fall out of thin air. 

    Then the floorboard creaked. It was Cassidy. Hanzo just blinked and listened. Technically he was still on duty, so it was his job to keep tabs on the cowboy. But now they had both seen each other’s hands. Cassidy wouldn’t try anything in his company any longer, and likewise Hanzo no longer had to hide his true intentions. He listened and felt the steps coming closer to his door, until Cassidy stopped in front of it. 

     There was a long pause. It was long enough that Hanzo pulled his attention away from the window, and turned to look at the door, waiting for Cassidy to knock. The Cowboy shifted in place, and Hanzo narrowed his gaze, but then finally he heard the percussion of Cassidy’s knuckle against the door. “Hey uh…You up?” 

     Hanzo rose from his seated position and walked over to the door. He opened it but stood in place, standing his ground against Cassidy. The Cowboy had changed his clothes, wearing jeans and a button up. His hands were in his pockets, but he kept his thumbs out and shifted his weight onto one of his hips. Hanzo said nothing, so Cassidy spoke again. “I uh…can’t sleep so I’m gonna head up the road a ways. It’s a quiet little spot not too far from here. Just gonna look at the stars.” 

     “Alright,” Hanzo said plainly.

     “Figured I should uh…let you know, all things considered. You can come if you like, but I’m not gonna run or anything,” Cassidy said, backing away from the door. Hanzo had spent more than enough time in that truck for one day. The thought of getting back into it genuinely didn’t appeal to him. But he knew that if he let Cassidy leave without him, his nerves would torment him. Perhaps the drive would bring him some calm. 

     “Give me a moment,” Hanzo said, closing the door. He quickly changed into a hoodie and pants suited for travel, and equipped himself with his bow and briefcase, before opening the door again. Cassidy looked to the cases and then back at Hanzo with a quizzical look. 

     “You expecting a fight in the middle of the night?” Cassidy asked with an arched eyebrow and a southern drawl enhanced by the late hour.

     “I don’t know what to expect anymore, so I will remain prepared regardless,” Hanzo said. Cassidy pursed his lips and nodded as if to say ‘that makes sense,’ and then turned away to walk down the stairs. Hanzo followed after him. Cassidy went into the kitchen, but then came back with a bottle of moonshine. He led Hanzo out the front door, and then locked it behind him, before bounding down the porch steps to the truck. 

     Hanzo set his things in the back, and then climbed up into the passenger side. He rolled his window down as Cassidy started the truck and put it into drive. They drove together in neutral evening silence for a time, and Hanzo looked out onto the dark green grass and night stained tree leaves. The evening breeze was stiff, but it was a relief from the day’s heat. 

     They drove until they came to a wide open clearing, and Cassidy pulled offroad. The drive became bumpy as the truck traversed the grass. The two rocked and swayed inside of the truck, until it came to the middle point of a wide open field. Then he stopped the car and cut the engine. “Can you do me a favor? There’s a can of spray in the glove compartment,” Cassidy said. Hanzo opened the drawer, and handed Cassidy the can. The Cowboy opened his door and climbed out, before hosing himself down with insect repellent, and then tossing the can back to Hanzo. “Might wanna give that a go,” he warned, and then closed his door, before moving around to the back. 

     Hanzo watched for a moment, but then opened his own door and did the same, spraying the repellent on his exposed skin and then giving himself the general once over. He then put the spray back into the glove compartment and closed the door. In the truck bed, Cassidy flung open a thick blanket and spread it out to the sides of the bed walls, before letting the tailgate down. Then he took off his boots and set them aside, before laying back and looking up at the sky. 

     Hanzo leaned against the truck side. He turned his own gaze up to the sky as well. The waning moon shined large and bright, and it felt closer than normal. But the beautiful thing was that there were no competing lights from nearby structures; simply the moon and stars. Hanzo’s eyes quickly adjusted, bringing out the more subtle hues of the galaxy’s collage. “You can come up, if you want to. There’s enough room,” Cassidy called. Hanzo turned his head, and then sighed. He placed his hand on the truck-bed side, and then vaulted up into it neatly to sit on the ledge. Hanzo took his shoes off and set them aside on the tailgate next to Cassidy’s, and then let his feet rest on Cassidy’s blanket. He spared the Cowboy one glance, before turning back to the sky. 

     “You are fortunate. I had many nights like this in my youth, but I did not realize what a treasure they were, until they became memories,” Hanzo said, his eyes tracing the lines of the constellations. 

     “How do you figure?” Cassidy asked. 

     “Your home is spacious, and fixed upon a large expanse of yet untouched land. I have spent the last decade moving between inner city apartments. I did not realize how much I would come to miss grass. Or how difficult it would be to see the stars when there are flashing neon signs everywhere. Technology progresses too quickly, and at the expense of our planet.” 

     “Oh. Yeah, when you put it like that I see what you mean. Nights like this put everything into perspective. I like to come out here when I can, just to clear my head and all,” Cassidy said. He reached for his bottle of moonshine and shook it. That was when Hanzo realized that the cowboy had mixed it with lemonade. Cassidy took a sip and then closed the jar lid again, before lighting up his cigar. They stayed together in silence for a moment longer, taking in the view. But Cassidy broke it again. “You mind if I play some tunes?” 

     “Do as you wish,” Hanzo replied, still mapping out the stellar guidelines. Cassidy set up a small speaker and turned on a quiet instrumental before laying back again and putting his hands behind his head. 

     “So…you didn’t tell Winston the whole truth of what happened while I was in the truck. And I take it you haven’t talked to him since?” Cassidy asked. Hanzo could tell the cowboy was trying to act unaffected by the answer, but the phrasing of the question gave Cassidy's intentions away. Fortunately for him, Hanzo had no interest in a sustained argument with Cassidy right now. 

     “No, I have not,” Hanzo replied plainly, still not bothering to look at the cowboy. 

     Cassidy blew out a cloud of cigar smoke. “I suppose I should be thanking you. I’m still a little lost if I’m being completely honest,” he drawled. Hanzo paused and took a slow breath, but then turned to look down at the cowboy. 

     “I too have made many mistakes, as you well know. I am trying to make up for them, though like you, I fear that there is no way to settle in full. Still, that does not mean that I should not try. In that respect, it is not for me to prevent someone else who is attempting the same,” Hanzo explained. Cassidy turned his head to look into Hanzo’s eyes as he spoke. 

     “I appreciate that. But you’ve gotta know I’m still gonna pursue Reyes after this,” Cassidy confessed. 

     “Then you advise that I should turn you over to Winston?” Hanzo mocked, sarcastically. 

     “No I just…I’m just trying to be straightforward with you, Shimada. That’s all,” Cassidy said, shaking his head and looking back up to the sky. Hanzo lowered his gaze. 

     “Please stop calling me that,” Hanzo said. Cassidy looked at him briefly, then took another pull of his cigar as he looked back to the sky.

     “Sorry,” Cassidy replied curtly. Hanzo clenched the edges of the truck bed. He knew why Cassidy had reverted to his last name. It was to accentuate his anger at Hanzo’s retreat from the morning. Hanzo swallowed. 

     “...Sleeping with you was not part of the mission packet,” Hanzo confessed. He turned to look at Cassidy again, and the cowboy was looking right back at him. They mirrored each other’s faces. Exhausted, hesitant, but waiting. Hoping. Hanzo hoped that Cassidy would press, but he didn’t. He just looked at him. Hanzo continued. “I have never…with a man…” 

     “Yeah, you said that,” Cassidy said. Hanzo just nodded, but he withdrew again, looking back to the sky. “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, Han. If it was just one night, then that’s all it was.” 

     “And is that enough?” Hanzo asked. Cassidy swallowed, and took another pull from his cigar. Then he shrugged. 

     “It’ll have to be,” he said, before taking another sip of his moonshine lemonade.

     “Why don’t you trust Winston?” Hanzo asked, changing the subject. Cassidy shot him a curious glance but Hanzo continued. “You said earlier that you believe in Overwatch, and you believe in Winston, but you intended to join Talon despite all of that. Do you not believe that if you were to divulge your intentions to Winston, that he would support your endeavors?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Don’t get me wrong, Winston’s got the right idea. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and his heart’s on his sleeve. Those are all traits you want in a leader, but leadership does things to people. The crown gets heavy. And now that the Captain and the Commander are back, they’re gonna have a say in how things are run. Winston’s in charge right now, sure, but the two of them will start calling the shots from the shadows. Just you watch,” Cassidy snarked, tapping some excess off of his cigar. 

     “All the more reason to state your intentions to Winston yourself, and head them off,” Hanzo countered. Cassidy put his hands behind his head to prop himself up at the neck, and then shrugged. 

     “But if I do I’ll lose the element of surprise. They’ll know I’m looking, so they’ll move me around so I’m never where I need to be. They’re good people. I trust ‘em with my life but…not with Reyes’. Gotta do this one on my own,” Cassidy explained. Hanzo paused, taking in that assessment. It was sound logic.

     “I will not tell them. I have decided.” Hanzo said. Cassidy looked at him, but Hanzo looked back up to the stars. “We spent a quiet two weeks here in Texas. We went into town one day, and we were ambushed by your former gang. There was a light skirmish, but other than that nothing happened. If Cassidy means to betray Overwatch, he did not attempt to do so during that time,” Hanzo rattled off, as if he were practicing what he was going to list in the mission report. 

     “Suppose I owe you one then,” Cassidy said. Hanzo shook his head ‘no.’ 

     “I simply hope you are successful in your pursuits.” 

     Cassidy let the silence ring for a second, but then asked “You want to talk about anything? You’re carrying my secret now. It might help if I carry yours,” Cassidy asked. Hanzo looked at Cassidy, then away, and then closed his eyes. He scrunched his toes and swallowed, but then  shook his head ‘no.’

     “I have nothing to say worth saying. I am that which remains...of what once could have been great...” Hanzo said, still looking up into the sky. 

     “Harsh,” Cassidy remarked, before taking one last pull from his cigar and then smudging out the lit end. Hanzo could feel the tension falling from his shoulders, as fatigue crept into his neck. 

     “Do you mind if I just join you on the blanket?” Hanzo asked hesitantly. Cassidy shook his head ‘no.’

     “Plenty of room,” Cassidy drawled. Hanzo climbed down from the ledge and moved to lay flat, but kept a respectable distance away from Cassidy. They stayed together, laying side by side but not touching, as they looked up at the stars. The sight was as stunning as it was heart-breaking, but it helped him to remember that in the universe’s grand scheme, he was actually quite small. It was nice to be insignificant for a change. It felt relieving to take a break from himself. 

     Cassidy reached for the bottle of moonshine and held it out to Hanzo. “Wanna try?” Hanzo looked into Cassidy’s eyes for just a moment, seeing how they shined even in the dark. Then he looked at the bottle before taking it in hand. He sat up to take a drink, and then spat it out immediately. Hanzo broke into a torrent of insults in Japanese toward the foul taste of Cassidy’s wretched concoction.

     Cassidy just laughed. 

*****

     “Thank you again Hanzo,” Winston said with a sigh of relief. He did this every day, always prepared for the worst, even though Hanzo had said ‘no’ every time. But now the mission had come to a close. It was their last day together. “I’ll forward over the details for the flight back to base tonight. You can fill out your written report when you're on site to conceal its contents. But as of now, the mission is officially over.” 

     “Understood,” Hanzo said, already vigilant against the prospect of having to fly again.

     “I am so sorry we asked this of you. If I had any other choice, please know that I wouldn’t have brought this upon you,” Winston said sadly, looking askew as if he were searching for the next thing to say. 

     “You needed to be sure. You did what had to be done. Do not apologize. We will see you soon,” Hanzo said. Short, sweet, and to the point. It left no room for Winston’s inquiries. No room for the discovery that Hanzo had completely blown his cover and unofficially sided with Cassidy.

     “See you soon. Mission control - out,” Winston said, and then ended the transmission. The hologram blinked away, and Hanzo tucked it into the luggage that he would check. He turned once more to look around Cassidy’s guest bedroom. The time had come for him to erase his presence here. Everything needed to be scrubbed clean. 

     Hanzo set aside one clean change of clothes for an after cleaning shower; the casual outfit he would wear to the airport. Other than that, everything he brought with him went back into the bag. He triple checked the closet, opened all of the drawers, and looked under the bed. He hadn’t forgotten a thing. It was all sealed away. 

     He zipped up his bag and then brought it downstairs, putting it by the front door. Then he went to the kitchen to gather cleaning supplies. Cassidy was already there, wearing a loosely buttoned flannel and fitted jeans. They stopped to look at each other for a moment, but then Hanzo dropped into a squat to gather what he needed. 

     “What are you doing?” Cassidy asked. 

     “Cleaning the guest bedroom. We return to base tonight. The flight leaves at nine, I would prefer to make it to the airport at seven thirty. Winston will send a car around six fifteen,” Hanzo explained. 

     “You don’t have to clean, Han. Clark takes care of the rooms. Sometimes he crashes here, so it’s no big deal,” Cassidy explained. Hanzo shook his head ‘no.’ 

     “I insist. It will only be a moment. I will return your supplies upon completion,” Hanzo said, turning away before he could see Cassidy’s response. 

     “Well hey, uh…we’ve still got some food left between us. Mind if I go ahead and cook it up? Maybe we could have a little dinner before the flight?” Cassidy asked 

     “Do as you will,” Hanzo said, not bothering to face Cassidy. He gathered his cleaning supplies and stepped off.  

     “You gonna eat, Han?” Cassidy asked sharply. Hanzo stopped and sighed. 

     “I will have a hearty meal when we return to base, to replenish,” Hanzo said. When Cassidy didn’t say anything, Hanzo turned to look him in the eye. He was irritated. Annoyed. Hanzo assumed he had been too harsh. “...You were correct two weeks ago. Flying disagrees with me. I prefer to fly on an empty stomach, in order to prevent an unfortunate experience.” Hanzo explained. Cassidy shrugged. 

     “Fine. I’ll throw it all out,” Cassidy said, moving over to the refrigerator. 

     “Do not do that. You may have my share,” Hanzo said.  

     “I’ll eat when you eat,” Cassidy said, pulling out everything from the fridge and gathering it together on the counter. He moved to go and get a trash bag. Hanzo breathed through his nostrils in irritation. 

     “Why are you doing this?” Hanzo asked, letting his frustration show on full display.  

     “Why are you avoiding me?” Cassidy shot back. Hanzo was staggered. They stood there staring at each other for a little too long, until Cassidy spoke again. “I thought we made up.” 

     “...I am not avoiding you,” Hanzo lied. He was absolutely avoiding Cassidy, but he had a perfectly sound reason. It was because every time he looked into the cowboy’s hazel eyes for too long, he remembered how beautiful they were from up above him. His memory took him back to when he was shirtless, and flushed, and his voice was rich and husky. Prolonged eye contact put him at risk of exposure. Hanzo was wearing sweatpants. “Cook them. I will eat with you here. But we must eat now so that I have enough time to relieve myself,” Hanzo explained. 

     “...alright…” Cassidy conceded at last, and put away the trash bag. Hanzo turned to leave then, before his eyes could visually calculate the cowboy’s shoulder to hip ratio. He made his way back up the stairs. The process was methodic. He worked in small areas from top to bottom, starting at the part of the guest room furthest from the door, so that he wouldn’t have to double back. 

     Every trace of his DNA needed to be eliminated from this place. It was a force of habit that was tedious, but he wouldn’t rest until the room was restored to vacant perfection. He scrubbed stubbornly at the walls and the floor, leaving no room for dust or fallen hairs to escape his thorough process. Hanzo was nothing if not meticulous. 

     He changed the sheets on the bed once more, throwing them out of the room and over the balcony to the laundry downstairs. He scrubbed down the mattress, and then replaced its covering with freshly washed sheets and eagerly fluffed pillows. He moved to the dresser to rearrange what few decorative pieces Cassidy kept there, setting them equidistant, parallel, and perpendicular to one another and the angles of the dresser. 

     He scrubbed the insides of the drawers, the closet, the door, all the way down to the door handle. The room shined with sparkling defeat as the radiant light from the sun beamed in through the window. Hanzo gave the room one final look forward, before bidding it farewell. He left the door open and untouched as he gathered his cleaning supplies and made his way to the bathroom. 

     He repeated the process all over again, but made certain to fill a bucket with soap and warm water. He would take it outside to clean himself once he was certain he couldn’t be traced to Cassidy’s house. The overpowering smell of bleach and sanitizer made him salivate to lubricate his throat. He would vomit soon if he didn’t leave, but he had one more tile to go. 

     Hanzo dug into the crevices of the flooring, pinching a rag between his index finger and thumb as he scrubbed away. He made it around in a complete square, and then stood up to give the bathroom one last survey. It was spotless. He was free to go. He grabbed his bucket and went down the stairs and out the front door, before making his way around to the back yard. He looked out over the stretch of Cassidy’s yard space, before setting the bucket down in a blind-spot, and dropping to a squat. 

     He squoze a sponge into the bucket to absorb the soap and water, and then took off his shirt. He went over his upper body in segments. Anything that fell on the grass was lost forever to the earth. Here, he was safe. Here, he wouldn’t be found. No one would have any reason to come after Cassidy for Hanzo’s misdeeds. 

     When he was fully cleaned, he dressed himself in his travel wear, and put on gloves to conceal his finger prints. He looked at his reflection in the water to secure his bun, before bringing his hood up high enough to rest atop it, though his face was still exposed. He picked up the bucket and gave it a gentle rocking toss, letting the water wash over the grass. Now, the mission was officially complete. 

     Hanzo made his way back to the front and up the stairs. He opened the door with his gloved hand, and shut it behind him. The smell of peppers and dry rubs immediately hit his nose, and his leg began to shake with weakness. He intended on flying on an empty stomach, as he always had. But Cassidy had called him on his bluff with tremendous success. He was starving. Hanzo walked into the kitchen to join Cassidy. 

    The sunlight beamed against the cowboy, and for just a moment he wasn’t the schlubby buffoon that Hanzo knew him to be. He cooked with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and the bangs that framed the sides of his face fell forward as he towered over the stove. The towel on his shoulder rested neatly against the fold of his collar and his shoulder seam. And his shirt was tucked in neatly, so Hanzo could see the brown leather belt that complimented the dark blue denim. 

    No. In this moment Cole Cassidy was celestial and divine. Firm hands held onto a cast-iron skillet with a grip that Hanzo could attest to. He lightly salted, peppered, and buttered what Hanzo now recognized to be his pork slabs into perfect chops. He set them aside and squatted down to grab a dish for a casserole, combining the remaining ingredients into a thick sauce of mushrooms, broccoli, rice, and everything else they had left. Hanzo couldn’t look away if he wanted to. 

   He didn’t want to. 

   “Oh hey. Should be ready here in about ten minutes or so,” Cassidy said, looking back at Hanzo with a little smile. Hanzo swallowed and looked away, but then decided to make himself useful. He went over to the cabinet and grabbed plates for them, just as Cassidy cut up the pork chops and dropped them into the casserole dish. Hanzo moved to set the table. 

    “What do you want to drink?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Whiskey. Neat,” Cassidy said, putting his dish in the oven. Hanzo knew where the decanter was. He poured them both glasses, and then walked back over to Cassidy with his. Cassidy took it with a quiet ‘thanks’ and held it up in mock cheers. Hanzo drank with him but stayed close. Cassidy had accused him of avoidance. He needed to disprove the notion. 

     “Shouldn’t take too long here. Hope it comes out alright,” Cassidy said, stepping back and leaning against the kitchen island. 

     “It smells good,” Hanzo said. 

     “A genuine compliment?” Cassidy asked with a teasing astonishment. 

     “Your first and last of the day,” Hanzo shot back, and Cassidy snickered. They stayed together in proximity and comfortable silence. They both surfed the internet individually, sipping their whiskeys until the ring of the oven timer went off. Cassidy moved to grab it from the oven, and Hanzo went the opposite way, to pull out Cassidy’s chair and give him a direct path to the table. It was already set with towels to protect the wood from the hot pan, and serving ladles.

    The two reached into the dish, grabbing generous helpings and serving themselves. Hanzo put his hands together, saying <<Let’s eat,>> and Cassidy shot him a curious look, but thought against pressing. Hanzo blew on the hot dish, before taking a bite. 

     “What do you think?” Cassidy asked, not giving Hanzo the satisfaction of delaying his feedback. 

     “It is your best dish yet,” Hanzo said, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to compliment Cassidy again. He kept his eyes on his food, so he wouldn’t have to look at Cassidy’s dumb face. 

     “You’re just saying that so I’ll leave you alone,” Cassidy said. He was correct, but two things could be true at once. 

     “Try it,” Hanzo said. Cassidy blew on his own bite before taking it. There was a moment of deliberation, but then his eyes widened with astonishment. 

     “Well shucks! Hold on, what did I put in this? Let me write this one down real quick!” Cassidy said, standing up from the table and going over to the ingredients. Hanzo just shook his head and sighed, but then came in for another toe-curling bite. 

***

     “Well look at this. First class seats again,” Cassidy said. Hanzo moved into their seats and took the one by the window. He reached into his carry-on pulling out a face mask and disposable gloves. Once he was geared for battle, he pulled out a clutch of cleaning wipes and cleaned the seat and surrounding area thoroughly with detailed scrubbing. “Why do you do that?” Cassidy asked. By now Hanzo was well versed in how disgusting Cassidy was, so it no longer phased him. 

     “To prevent illness and contamination. Plenty of bodies come across these seats, and you’re a fool if you believe they clean them as thoroughly as they should. And as the plane descends, everyone starts coughing and sneezing because of the change in altitude,” Hanzo explained. He dropped into a squat and swiped the bottom of the chair, and then took his seat, wiping down the rest of whatever he might touch on the excursion. 

     Cassidy just sat next to him in the unsanitized seat by the aisle. The cowboy shook his head and snickered at Hanzo, watching him work. Cassidy slouched back into his chair and reclined just enough to be comfortable. “Welp, I’m gonna get some shut-eye. I know you like to stay awake, so nudge me when they say we’re close,” Cassidy said. He took his hat off and placed it over his face to block out the light. 

     Hanzo rolled his eyes and looked out the window. His stomach churned in knots. The intercom announced that they were about to depart. Hanzo looked to see that Cassidy made sure to buckle himself in before immediately passing out. He had. Hanzo strapped himself in and clenched his jaw as he exhaled through his nose. 

     The plane rocked forward with a lurch, and Hanzo fought the tremble that crept up his back. It rolled forward picking up speed, and Hanzo could feel his heart beating hard against his rib cage. He kept his eyes closed and held his breath as the plane lifted off the ground. But Hanzo’s eyes shot open wide, when he felt a familiar but unfamiliar sensation. 

     He glanced left at Cassidy, but the cowboy remained unchanged. The hat was over his face and he was laid back and dead to the world. He would fall asleep in minutes. But somewhere in the take-off process, Cassidy’s pinky draped over Hanzo’s. Hanzo looked at Cassidy again, thinking perhaps he should pull it away. 

     He tried to brush off Cassidy’s pinky gently with his ring finger, to see how he would react. The cowboy tightened his pinky over Hanzo’s with a curl, and clung on. Hanzo looked down at their overlapped fingers for a moment, and then back at Cassidy. The cowboy was still pretending to be asleep. 

     Hanzo blinked, but then turned to look away. He looked out the window at the clouds that surrounded them. The fear was there. It was always there. But the feeling of Cassidy’s pinky on his own gave him something else to focus on. 

     Hanzo didn’t pull away.

Chapter Text

“Hey Han? We’re here.”

Cassidy’s voice was soft and deep in a soothing way that beckoned more rest. But in this instance, it was more than effective at pulling Hanzo from sleep’s clutch. He had drifted into a brief slumber on the car ride back to the Gibraltar after the eleven hour flight, and he now had a kink in his neck from his head slouching out of position. “Hn,” Hanzo grunted, looking about and surveying the situation. It was nearly four in the morning. The night was dark in an unsettling way, and the driver was bringing the car to a slow stop as he pulled in. Hanzo blinked away the fatigue, but said nothing more.

The car slid to a halt, and Cassidy thanked the driver before opening his own door. Hanzo opened his door and stepped out to meet Cassidy at the trunk, both men reaching for their respective luggage. There was an awkward unspoken tension in the cold air between them. They had just been alone together for two weeks, and in a way knew each other better than anyone else ever could. But the ride home had been mostly silent, with Cassidy sleeping, and Hanzo suffering in silence. But he accepted the quiet between them. Hanzo knew that things needed to return to normal now. He gave Cassidy ample personal space, stepping away from the cowboy, and heading toward the Gibraltar with his baggage and briefcase.

Athena scanned his hand-print at the door, and the hatchet opened with the familiar sound of shifting mechanical gears. Hanzo stepped in, listening as Cassidy walked behind him. But once the door closed, Athena’s voice came up over a holographic projection. “Agent O-43, Cassidy. Agent D-22, Hanzo; your presence is requested in central operations by Agent T-41, Winston.”

The summons felt like a splash of ice water down his spine. He swallowed, and shot a hesitant glance at Cassidy. Cassidy just breathed through his nostrils and clenched his teeth as his shoulders sank. There was an aura of guilt that wafted off of the cowboy that somehow swirled like the smoke of one of his cigars. It was an uncharacteristic moment of surrender from the cowboy that irritated the archer into action. Hanzo lifted his chin in indignation. “I will be there momentarily.” Athena blinked out of existence. The pair of them stood together for another moment in awkward silence.

“Han…” Cassidy began, but Hanzo cut him off with a sharp glance.

“Cameras,” Hanzo said quietly, and walked forward. Cassidy waited a moment, but then followed after him, the click of his boot heel declaring his pace. Hanzo braced himself and his grip tightened on the handle of his briefcase; a nervous tick of feeling for his bow and arrow to remind himself that he was in control. He swallowed again, but kept his eyes forward as he marched toward his dishonorable discharge. But when he approached central operations, he saw that Fareeha Amari was on her way as well, and in basketball shorts and a tank top.

She waved sleepily and he nodded back to her, but then he saw her walk into central operations. His tension replaced itself with confusion as he followed after her, and Cassidy followed him. But when he stepped through the door, his suspicion and paranoia gave way to a completely different level of apprehension. The entirety of the Gibraltar had been gathered now in the black of night, and Winston was at the head of the room, clicking away at his holographic keyboard.

The door shut behind Cassidy, and Winston spoke on cue.“Thank you all for joining me. I’m sorry to ask this of you at such a late hour, but we need all hands on deck. There’s been a situation of emergency in Numbani. Akande Ogundimu a.k.a. Doomfist has escaped confinement.”

Hanzo felt a ripple effect of nervous tension in the air, accented by gasps and shuffling feet. His eyes immediately landed on Genji, whose grip tightened into a clenched fist. Did they have history? Hanzo had heard of Doomfist when he was a freelance assassin. The only list that rivaled Ogundimu’s series of accomplishments, was his list of committed crimes. He was someone that Hanzo personally hoped never to fight. Winston continued.

“Most of you I’m sure know of Doomfist’s capabilities, and the threat that he poses to the world at large. For those who don’t, I have generated an information packet to bring you up to speed, but you will need to read it in transit. We’ll need to split into three separate teams. Alpha squad will consist of myself, Soldier 76, Pharah, and Ana. We’re going directly to Numbani to investigate the matter and gather what information we can. Our intel suggests that while he has escaped prison, he may not have left Numbani yet. We will need maximum firepower to detain him from a distance, with myself acting as a defensive anchor if he gets too close.”

It was then that Hanzo recalled the news report of Doomfist’s original arrest, and that it had been Winston who put him behind bars the first time. Doomfist had a gauntlet that could topple a sky-scraper with a single punch. But apparently even that hadn’t been enough to stop the likes of Overwatch’s new commander in chief. Hanzo looked at Winston as he continued, with recollective respect.

“Beta squad will consist of Zarya, Mei, Hanzo, and Mercy. Due to the situation at hand, Doomfist’s gauntlet is being relocated to Russia for the time being under the protection of Numbani’s embassy there. You will serve as on site back-up, just in case a break-in is attempted. Mercy is in command of this squad and will act as liaison until further notice. The specific parameters are being detailed and completed by Athena, to be uploaded to your drives momentarily,” Winston rattled off.

“Understood,” Mercy declared. Hanzo looked between Mercy and Mei, both of them now familiar to him, but he did not know of anyone by the name of Zarya. Process of elimination led him to the incredibly muscular woman with pink hair, standing off to the side. He estimated her at one hundred and ninety six centimeters given the way she towered over him. Her arms were nearly as thick as his torso.

“Omega squad will be Genji and Cassidy. Lt. Reinhardt Willhelm is on his way to the Gibraltar now, alongside our newest recruit, Brigitte Lindholm. You are to remain here on base and guard it from infiltration. Talon has attempted to breach Overwatch security before. They may attempt to do so again. You will need to stop them by any means necessary. Reinhardt should be here in three hours, at which time he will be given command. Until then, I trust Genji and Cassidy to work in tandem as you have before,” Winston said. His ape digits were moving at astonishing speeds even as he talked.

Hologram projections blinked all over the room, pulling up news reports, live feeds, and additional documentation to inform them of the situation at hand. Winston dismissed his hologram keyboard as he spoke again. “I cannot stress enough how important this is, as we are on the cusp of an international coup. Nevertheless, Overwatch and any activity regarding it is illegal under the Petras act. Pharah has jurisdiction as a member of the Helix security squad, and Zarya will be in her native land, where we have a clandestine ally. But everyone else here is at risk, not only legally, but lethally. That being said, if anyone would like to step down, know that I will not think less of you. But now would be the time.”

Winston finished his prompt with a scanning look among the crowd. The room fell so silent, that if a pen dropped it would be deafening. Every operative stood at attention, all eyes facing Winston with synchronicity and valor. The adrenaline of the moment pushed back Hanzo’s fatigue from travel, as he now found himself shoulder to shoulder with the world’s finest soldiers and scientists, united by one singular purpose.

Winston nodded with a smirk. “I thought as much. Very well, you all have your orders. Move out.” On his word, various agents began to file out of central command, each of them going about their own preparations. Hanzo watched Genji and Mercy bid each other farewell, feeling a twinge of a certain melancholy in the moment. Surely his brother would prefer to be deployed with his soulmate. He saw no reason why he and Genji couldn’t switch. But he was snapped out of the moment when Winston approached.

“Hanzo, Cassidy, I cannot apologize enough. I know the timing couldn’t be worse,” Winston said sadly. Hanzo noted the way that the gorilla switched between fierce commander in chief, and apologetic teddy bear at the drop of a hat. It was a staggering shift in cadence, but one that he didn’t find strange. This was Winston at his most authentic.

“Not your fault, big fella. Duty calls. We gotta answer,” Cassidy said with a shrug. “I’m just glad you’re letting me be apart of the action.” Hanzo was grateful for Cassidy’s quick and smooth reply. The coward from the hallway a moment ago had apparently been left behind.

“Hanzo.” Hanzo turned to see Ana approaching him. She held forward a small white cardboard box. It was a care package for him, stuffed to the brim with healthy snacks, fidgets, a collapsible pillow and blanket, and enough hibiscus tea to sustain him in a drought. His eyes widened as he took the package from her. “For your flight,” She mentioned with a nod.

“Where’s mine?” Cassidy asked, with his signature raised eyebrow.

“Oh hush,” Ana spat, not bothering to look at the pouting cowboy. She continued with Hanzo. “The packet in the front is made with extra chamomile. You may have to cut it with fruit juice if you don’t like the taste, but it is a blend that will surely put you to sleep, if you find yourself unable or unwilling.”

“...Thank you,” Hanzo replied with a hesitant astonishment. Ana smiled at him like a proud parent, in a way that reminded him of his own mother. But then he saw Fareeha walk right by them with an unsubtle air of jealousy, and the smile fell off of Ana’s face instantly. Ana blinked and looked away, gathering herself.

“Farewell. Be safe, everyone.” Ana said before stepping off after Fareeha. Winston followed her, leaving Hanzo and Cassidy alone for the moment. The two looked at each other at last, speaking in wordless eye contact. They were being sent off to what could be their deaths, but they felt a mutual relief now that they weren’t being ejected from the premises. Hanzo let himself look at Cassidy just a moment longer, but then looked down awkwardly at his care package.

“Han?” Hanzo looked back up at Cassidy, hearing him ask his name. He was getting a little too used to being called ‘Han,’ rather than his proper name. But then he noticed that the fluorescent lights did a disservice to Cassidy’s hazel eyes. In Texas, in the sunlight, he could see the colors reflect back to him in a way that was frighteningly magnetic. Here they seemed much more muted, as they had when he had first met. It was a staggering distinction. Hanzo willed himself into memorizing an image of his eyes the way they were before, just in case this mission went south. “You gonna be alright?” Cassidy asked at last.

Hanzo felt his body react to Cassidy’s words. His heart thumped hard in his chest, but he kept still, pushing his feelings away with the weight of purpose. “Your concern is unnecessary. Worry for yourself,” Hanzo replied coolly as he looked askance. Cassidy just chuckled and shook his head.

“Should’ve seen that one coming,” he quipped to himself with a shrug. Hanzo resisted the urge to flinch or sigh, keeping himself still. The bond between himself and Cassidy needed to be severed, now more than ever. Their time together brought to light Cassidy’s intentions for the near future. In knowing Cassidy’s intentions, and withholding the information from Winston, he was obstructing military justice as an accomplice. He needed plausible deniability. The more space between them, the better.

Cassidy gave Hanzo one last hesitant look, smiled, and then tipped his hat, before turning to leave. Hanzo turned away, but then looked up to watch him walk away in a hologram recording of the live-feed from central. When he at last disappeared from sight, he let his shoulders sink. He opened the care package that Ana prepared for him, reaching for the heated mug, and a serving of the enhanced chamomile hibiscus tea.

****

Hanzo woke up slowly. He had his head on a pillow and he was covered by a thin heated blanket. Slowly, he started to make sense of his surroundings. He was on the Orca - his arch nemesis - and he was flying in the middle of a whiteout. He had an empty cup in the cup-holder of his arm rest that was once filled with Ana's tea. He had to give the old woman her credit; she certainly knew her way around her brews.

He slowly folded his blanket and put it back into his bag, and then sat forward to remove the pillow. The Orca was moving. The tea had a calming after-effect on him, so the panic didn't hit quite as suddenly. Instead, he simply looked out the window, watching the snow against the cloudy white backdrop. "Oh Hanzo, you're awake!" Hanzo turned his head to see Mei approaching him. He sat up straighter in his seat.

“How long was I asleep?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Um…you started drinking before we left. After take off we tried speaking with you, but you were already asleep. It's been about nine hours. Are you feeling alright? You must have been very tired." When Mei finished speaking, Hanzo's eyes widened with alarm.

"Has anything happened?” Hanzo asked. Mei shook her head.

"No, we are just about to land. Mercy and Zarya are in the cockpit,” Mei said, and Hanzo took a breath at last.

“Apologies,” he said, and she smiled with a little laugh.

"That is not necessary.I am happy you were able to rest. I only came to make sure that you were still fastened in your seatbelt. We will be landing soon.” She took the seat next to him, and he fastened his own seatbelt tighter out of habit. “Hanzo, I wanted to tell you. Do you remember when we last spoke? You were there when I…”

He waited for her to finish, but she stopped speaking, and her cheeks flushed a soft pink. He nodded, somewhat happy for the distraction from the slow descent of the plane. “Yes. Have you established contact with your soulmate?”

“W-well. It’s…It’s actually Zarya,” Mei said, and Hanzo blinked with astonishment. Mei continued. “She came to base while you were away. I told her that you were with me when it happened, and how strange it was for us to be talking about soulmates just as I got my mark. I am excited for you to meet her. Isn’t it miraculous?”

“I see.” Hanzo didn’t know how to proceed with this conversation. He searched his mind for the proper thing to say. “Is she…what you hoped she would be?” To his surprise, Mei looked down.

“I…how do I say this…very nearly, yes. We have only gotten to know each other recently, and there are many likeable qualities about her. She is very strong, obviously. And very brave. I feel safe when I am near her, and these are all things that I cherish about her greatly. But…” Mei’s eyes turned to sorrow, an Hanzo looked at her deliberately, waiting for her to continue. “She…well…I do not know where she stands on human-omnic relations.”

Hanzo nodded and took in a deep breath as he felt the Orca plummet. It was a tricky subject that everyone needed to answer individually. There was no denying the sentience and independence of artificial intelligence. But their personhood and entitlement to human rights was a stance that varied from person to person.

“From what I understand, she has a history of pain with the omnics. She was a child when Omnic crises first ended in Russia, and she lost her father in the war. Can you believe she actually took up weight lifting to inspire her people as a symbol of Russia’s strength?” She smiled. Mei’s joy and infatuation was terribly contagious. Hanzo nearly smiled back.

“That is most admirable,” he said, feeling the Orca level.

“It is. But…on the day of her weight-lifting tournament, the omnium in her area reactivated, and an attack broke out. She…well she enlisted immediately and joined the fight to protect everyone. And I am so proud of her, I really am but…I can tell that she looks at all omnics with hostility. And I…I do not know how to proceed,” Mei confessed. Hanzo looked at her sympathetically.

They sat in silence now, because Hanzo didn’t know how best to proceed. He had knowledge of many subjects, but love and romance was at the very bottom of his repertoire. The idea struck him to change the subject to one of science instead. “May I ask, how do you find your own partnership intersects with your research, on your soulmate thesis?”

Her eyes brightened immediately, and he was relieved. “It’s so interesting! I’ve interviewed a few couples, and many of them suggest that the connection was instantaneous and magnetic. I…well,” she began with a blush and a little flutter. “She is a little distant by nature, but I can sort of tell that she really likes me too. I don’t know if it is love, at least not yet. Perhaps it will grow with time. But I find it so interesting that even in knowing that she is mine and I am hers…there is so much more to do. The mark is only the beginning.”

Hanzo looked down, taking in Mei’s words. He felt a small shake as the Orca touched the ground. He swallowed. “Mei, I have not much to offer, but I would be honored to count you amongst my friends.” Hanzo heard himself speak, and a twinge of nervousness knotted in his stomach. Why did he say that? Mei beamed.

“The honor is mine!” It was then that a small drone floated between them. “Oh! This is Snowball. I think he would like to be friends too!” Hanzo looked at the little drone with a reserved hesitation, and then nodded at it. But then Snowball’s eyes blinked, and he quickly retreated behind Mei, as if to hide. It was then that the cockpit opened. Mercy stepped out first, and then behind her, the large woman, Zarya. It appeared that Snowball was afraid of Mei’s soulmate.

Mercy went for the coffee machine immediately. She was pouring over her notes, taking in every bit of information that she could from Winston’s mission brief. Hanzo wanted to support her in Genji’s stead, but he did not know how. He thought to himself that perhaps the best thing he could do for her right now, was to stay quiet and out of her way. Then he saw Zarya approach.

“Little man is awake?” Her Russian accent was thick. Hanzo simply looked up at her, and unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Zarya, this is Hanzo. He was with me when I…when we…er well…Hanzo, this is Zarya. She is my…” Mei tried, but she couldn’t stop herself from blushing. Zarya smirked and took over.

“Greetings,” she said, before reaching to unclip Mei from her seatbelt. She offered Mei her hand and Mei took it, standing. It was remarkably chivalrous.

“Greetings,” Hanzo replied, standing as well. Zarya turned fully to Mei.

“Once we are inside, if you would like, I can send for hot cocoa and something to eat. Are you cold?” Zarya asked, and Mei shook her head no with a soft laugh.

“Nothing is cold after Antarctica.”

“That is good to hear.” Zarya turned back to Hanzo. “I am told you are an archer, and an excellent shot. Perhaps I will see for myself,” she said with a hint of a challenge. Hanzo lifted his chin.

"With any luck, we won’t have to,” Mercy said, coming to join them all at last. “I’ve touched base with the embassy. They know we are here and we have clearance to embark. There have been no sightings of suspicious activities in the area, and the gauntlet is secure in its holding. If Doomfist is apprehended by Alpha squad we need not stay any longer than necessary. Our orders are quite specific.”

“Any word from Alpha squad?” Mei asked, coming to Mercy’s side, the four of them forming a circle now.

“We have contact, but they have not yet been successful in his location or apprehension.” Mercy fanned out a series of holograms showing the shared data of the crime scene. From what Hanzo could see, Doomfist had punched a whole clean through a concrete wall. And his gauntlet was safely secure, so that meant he had done it with his actual arm. Zarya said something in Russian that must have been profane. He silently agreed.

“Mercy…have you ever come against him yourself?” Mei asked.

“Negative. I was in Numbani at the time Overwatch apprehended Doomfist, but I was tending to those he injured. It was Winston, Tracer, and Genji who faced him. But their injuries were severe,” Mercy said with caution.

“Do not be afraid. I will keep you all safe,” Zarya said with unwavering confidence. Mei and Mercy both smiled.

“That being said, I have worked with Hanzo before, but this is my first time in actual command. In order to know how best to utilize you both, I will need to know your capabilities. Mei, if you would?” Mercy asked, and Mei stepped over to her weapons cache. She opened it.

“This is the endothermic blaster. It creates a concentrated stream of frost that I can use to freeze things in place. I can also convert it to fire ice shards, or build walls of ice. I built it originally to fix our broken communications tower at the watchpoint in Antarctica, but it proves useful in combat as well. I’m ready to help however I can,” Mei said. Hanzo remembered that Mei told him previously that she was a part of the original Overwatch initiative, but she was a scientist. Not a soldier. He didn’t know how he felt about being in the field with her.

“Understood. And you, Zarya?” Mercy asked. Zarya went to her own weapons cache, and pulled out a gun nearly as big as Mei.

“This is the particle cannon. I can fire a beam of energy, or fire concussive bursts of particles depending on the need. But more importantly, it creates barriers of hard light that absorb impact, and then converts that impact into raw power, which increases the damage of the cannon. The more I am attacked, the more powerful I become. I can also give these barriers to anyone here, if you are attacked.”

Mercy, Mei, and Hanzo all widened their eyes as Zarya spoke. “Most usefully, after enough absorption, the particles create a negative output of increased gravity, that confines targets in place for a short period of time. It takes a while for this to charge, but when it happens, Gravity is temporarily under my control.”

“That is amazing,” Mei remarked. Mercy agreed.

“How did you come about this weapon?” Mercy asked, noticing that it was not of Overwatch’s make.

“It was once the arm of an Omnic that attacked us in Novanskoye. I ripped it off of it by hand. Then I just kept it,” Zarya explained in her thick Russian accent, as if that were at all intuitive. The other three each adjusted in fear and respect. Mercy cleared her throat.

“Very well. Winston put the four of us on a team together because of our combined abilities. Hanzo is a crack-shot with a bow, able to stop most problems before they ever get close enough. But in case that fails, Mei and Zarya each have ways to detain anyone who would attempt to steal the gauntlet. I will serve as both medic and commander for the time being, and my wings will allow me to serve as eyes from above. For now, we remain at rest until the base is at alert, but we are free to embark. I will inform the team if I hear anything from Alpha squad,” Mercy said.

“And what of Omega squad?” Zarya asked. Hanzo turned to Mercy.

“Reinhardt and Brigitte have touched base at the Gibraltar, but there are no signs of enemy action. Only Alpha is active at the moment in search of Doomfist.” Hanzo felt relieved, knowing that neither Genji nor Cassidy were under attack for the moment. “Are we ready to move out? Bundle up. It is cold out there,” Mercy said, fastening her coat and pulling up her hood.

Hanzo reached into his bag, changing into a thick winter coat, complete with hat and scarf. He grabbed his things and moved for the hatchet release with the women. Mercy waited until they were all ready, before deploying the release. The cold air hit them immediately. The only sound now was the howl of the harsh winds, as they walked toward the embassy.

Chapter Text

     It had been two days since they first touched in Mamonovskiy. Zarya was most diligent in remaining on guard and ready for a moment’s notice, but she took breaks to maintain her fitness, or to dote on Mei if their schedules aligned. Mei on the other hand had been wayward, chatting with anyone who would listen as she inspected the atmospheric anomalies of Russia’s climate. But Hanzo stayed away from the two of them, knowing that this time was crucial for them to get to know each other. 

     He spent the majority of his time near Mercy, but kept to himself as much as possible. It was a favor to his brother to keep her safe from harm’s way. And from Genji, he learned that Mercy had a tendency to overwork herself if left unchecked. Hanzo had taken up his brother’s mantle of bringing Mercy coffee, and making sure that she went to bed when she was supposed to. She put up little resistance; a trait that he found most agreeable. It meant there was less need for conversation. But he allowed himself a moment of shameless pride, when she confessed that he made a better cup of coffee than his brother. 

    Hanzo took stock of his arrows, needing a count of exactly how many he had, and what he could do with them. There were ten blunted tips for non lethal shots if necessary, fifteen standard arrows, five scatter arrows, and another fifteen sonic arrows for tracking. Each of them were his own craft, so he gave them all a thorough inspection to make certain that they would perform as intended. There were no malfunctions to his detection. More importantly, it gave him a focus to distract him from his wandering concern. 

     Mercy had been prompt and forward in keeping the squad up to date on the mission briefing. There were no signs of enemy action from either Alpha or Omega squad. It was relieving to know that the Gibraltar hadn’t been compromised, but at the same time it was frustrating being here with nothing to do but keep watch of Mercy and try to silence the protestations of his mind and body. A body that wanted another turn with- 

     “This is Winston to Beta squad. Beta squad, do you copy?” The voice came from Mercy's communication link. 

     “This is Mercy speaking. I copy,” Mercy said, and Hanzo walked over to her desk to join. The small holographic Winston nodded in acknowledgment of the two of them.

     “Only providing an update. After a thorough investigation of the area, we still have no sign of Doomfist in Numbani. Current suspicion indicates that he managed to flee the country undetected. Do we have visual on the gauntlet?” Winston asked. Mercy nodded and accessed the embassy’s security footage. She forwarded the live feed to Winston.  

     “The gauntlet remains secure and intact,” Mercy said, but Hanzo kept his eyes on the feed. Something about it felt off. 

     “Wait,” He said. He looked at the position of the lighting. It was midday, but the light that poured in placed the sun in an ill-fitting direction. Mercy looked at him curiously, and then looked at the footage herself. It took her a moment longer, but then she realized it too. The footage was on a loop. Mercy pressed the button for the embassy intercom, contacting the local authorities, Zarya, and Mei. 

     “All units, converge on the gauntlet at once! I repeat; all units converge on the gauntlet at once! There has been a breach in security!” Mercy declared as she dismissed the hologram of Winston and then stood from her chair, dashing in a quick sprint. Hanzo chased after her, and they ran out of the room and down the hall. He snatched an arrow from his quiver, keeping it knocked just in case they ran into enemy action en-route to the target. Military personnel filed out after them, each of them running to assigned stations. A clutch of them moved alongside Hanzo and Mercy. The others all stationed themselves at any and all exits. 

     “Acknowledged!” Zarya came over their personal com-links. 

     “I’ll be right there!” Mei yelled. Her voice was panicked. Hanzo kept his focus on Mercy for the time being. He went back to back with her, surveying the area for anything that looked out of place, while Mercy went on a direct path toward the inner sanctum of the embassy base. She wasted no time, pushing open the door for the security lockdown, and peering over the rail. Military personnel were filling in on the floors beneath them, but from where they could see, everything was intact. The gauntlet was in a clear case that appeared to be glass, but it was a reinforced transparent alloy maintained under a vaulted lock. To her relief it was just as they left it - untouched and gleaming with the proper lighting in accordance with the position of the sun. There was only one thing that was out of place in the establishment; a poorly dressed human janitor, walking on what appeared to be… a peg leg.

     Mercy threw her legs over the railing and then jumped into flight. She turned to offer Hanzo her hand, and he swallowed with fear at the thought of flying with her, but took it anyway. She lowered them down to the ground floor where the gauntlet and the janitor were. Hanzo saw that Zarya and Mei filed in as well; Zarya taking the proper entrance from the ground floor, and Mei coming down on a make-shift ice slide.  “This room is off limits to all personnel. Identify yourself immediately, ” Mercy barked. The janitor removed a pair of earbuds from his ears, and then looked up. He was a blonde caucasian, or at least what was left of him was. His face was covered in soot, and it was clear that whoever this man was, he had no familiarity with the intricacies of proper hygiene. His teeth were crooked with more than one of them being fake. And his eyes were wide and wiley. Madness reeked from this man with a pungent stench. 

     Hanzo narrowed his gaze as the man lifted his arms in surrender. “Sorry! Sorry! Must have got a little turned around!” He said with a strange cackle of a laugh. He was doing his best to fake a Russian accent, but Hanzo heard the undercurrent of Australian in his voice. There were little cuts and scrapes all over his hands, and his fingers looked like they had been steeped to the knuckle in dirt and grease. 

     “What’s that in your sleeve?” Mercy asked, and Hanzo’s eyes drifted to where she was looking. There was absolutely a contraption of some sort, hanging in the excess fabric of the ill-fitting uniform. “He’s armed!” Mercy declared, and guns around the room began to click into position to fire. Zarya hiked up her plasma cannon and Mei readied her blaster. 

     “Well…shit! Hog! We’re blown!” The man yelled. Behind them, one of the doors was kicked open and a large behemoth of a man came waddling through at a speed unbefitting his stature. He had on an ill-fitting security guard’s outfit and appeared to be carrying a wide barreled hand cannon, and what Hanzo deduced to be a hook on a chain. He was also covered in the same filth and grime as the janitor, but he was easily twice his partner’s height, and perhaps four times his weight. 

     “Plan B,” The large man growled. Hanzo looked between the two of them, but saw that the janitor had pulled forth a switch from the sleeve of his uniform. He was holding a detonator. Zarya saw it too. 

     “EVERYONE TAKE COVER!” Zarya yelled. The janitor clicked the detonator, and a series of explosions rippled along the embassy. Hanzo instinctively moved to shelter Mercy who curled into him immediately, but neither of them felt anything. There was only the deafening noise of the bombs that went off, and the blaring sound of sirens. Hanzo opened his eyes and let go of Mercy, to see that the four of them were covered in a sheer pink prism. Zarya had deployed one of her photon barriers and covered them all just in time. But the embassy itself was crumbling before their very eyes and bursting to flames. Zarya’s barrier held for a moment longer before dissipating. 

     Mercy immediately took to the air, reaching for her own blaster and surveying the area. There were injured units everywhere. The soldiers needed medical attention. “I am tending to the wounded and coordinating evacuation. Mei, this building is coming down. I need you to reinforce all of the load bearing beams so that we can hold this area together until everyone is safely out of the embassy. Hanzo, Zarya, detain the intruders. Now! ” Mercy flew off and up to the top floor among the smoke, helping as many people as she could with her accelerated healing beam. Mei cranked up the turbine of her hydro-powered blaster, letting more water come through so that she was able to dispense large quantities of ice. She shot a line straight up the nearest crumbling beam, largely slowing the toppling of the embassy. Then she made herself a series of ice pillars to climb, so that she could make it up to the next floor. 

     But Hanzo had no time to worry about either of them. The large man was barreling forward and cranking out a barrage of metal bits from his hand cannon, laughing maniacally as he marched forward. Zarya held them firm, keeping her photon barrier in place, but Hanzo could see that there was a limit to how long the barrier would last. It would come down in a moment. He needed to act fast. " Leave the big one for me. The little one is yours. Get behind me!” Zarya barked. Hanzo spun to Zarya’s back as the photon barrier came down. He heard Zarya crank up her gun, and the large man let out a roar of pain, but Hanzo kept his eyes on the janitor. He was making quick work of the safe containing the gauntlet. Hanzo fired a warning shot just past the head of the janitor that penetrated the faux-glass case, but when he moved forward, a shot of pain ripped through his body and he wailed in staggering agony. 

     “Oh, you really stepped in it mate!” The crazed janitor teased as Hanzo clenched his teeth in pain. His vision blurred with the sensation of pain as he looked down. His leg had been caught in what appeared to be a makeshift bear-trap. It was made of a series of well rusted scrap parts, and clamped tight onto his leg, piercing his flesh. He looked up, watching the janitor laugh as he stuck a concussive mine to the safe lock, blowing it apart. 

     Hanzo dropped his bow and bent down, prying open the bear trap and fighting off the pain as he pulled the metal from his leg. He was dripping with crimson blood, and much too quickly at that. He limped as he bent again to pick up his bow, firing shots at the janitor, but the blood loss was making him woozy. The Janitor moved erratically, cackling like a clown as he hobbled away on his peg leg with the gauntlet in his grasp. Hanzo’s rage swelled. 

     From the corner of his eye, he saw that Zarya and the large man were going toe to toe. The large man swung his hook just over her head on a long chain, forcing her to dodge. She couldn’t fire her cannon full force because Mei was still solidifying the building in place. Instead she resorted to melee, bludgeoning the large man and pushing him back with the weight of her cannon. But he was strong and heavy. Despite her strength, they were evenly matched. 

      “Come on Hog! Shake her off and let’s get out of here!” The janitor yelled, running past his struggling partner and Zarya. The large man gave slack, using Zarya’s strength against her, and sending her toppling to the floor. He tossed her gun aside as she rolled to recover, and ran after his accomplice. Hanzo snarled. 

     “They are getting away! Zarya, can you alter the gravity?” Hanzo asked. Zarya nodded, scrambling for her gun. “Mei, I need you to reinforce this door!” Hanzo yelled. Mei whipped around and fired a barrage of ice in an arc over the arch-way to give it more support. Hanzo fired a sonar arrow in the space between the two criminals, scanning the hall to see if anyone was there. The coast was clear. He knew what to do. 

     Zarya rose to her feet and cranked up her plasma cannon to maximum power. She fired forth a contained orb of gravitic photon energy. The force of it pulled the fleeing duo to the ground. “Fire at will!” Zarya yelled, and Hanzo cranked back his arrow to a full draw. His tattoo began to surge with the rippling energy of the hardlight ink as he roared. 

     "Let the dragon consume you!” 

     He fired the arrow and the twin dragons of his arm sleeve burst forward in bright blue concussive light. They pushed through the reinforcements of Mei’s ice and ripped through the hallway. The pressure of the light engulfed the duo, smothering them in tangible weight as the dragon’s rampaged on. Hanzo swayed woozily for a moment but then released the call of their aid, and the dragons faded away. Zarya gave him a curious look, but then rushed forward to detain the duo. She kneeled to the floor beside them, checking their pulses. “They are down,” she declared. 

     Mei looked at Hanzo with astonishment as he heaved with exhaustion. That was when he felt his body go numb, but in a relieving way. Mercy had enveloped him in the beam of her healing light. His leg began to quickly mend itself. He looked up to her as she descended. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. I’ll inspect you after this. The area is clear. Let’s evacuate immediately,” Mercy said, and Mei and Hanzo nodded. She jogged forward and they followed after her. To Hanzo’s astonishment, Zarya scooped the large man over her shoulder into a fireman's carry. He was easily five hundred pounds. Mercy grabbed the other by the back of his collar, and hovered with her wings, dragging him over the floor as they fled. 

**** 

     “Targets have been detained and identified via the local authorities. Their names are Jamison Fawkes, and Mako Rutledge, a.k.a. Junkrat and Roadhog; two wanted thieves at large with a string of heists involving explosives. We weren’t able to question them for long before having to hand them over to the politsiya, but it appears they were hired to steal the gauntlet,” Mercy explained to the hologram Winston. They were off to the side of the embassy, standing clear as the local authorities handled the aftermath of the incident. 

     Hanzo stood to Mercy's right, surveying the surrounding area. The smoke from the explosions lingered, but the fire was put out. People were being helped onto stretchers and loaded into ambulances. Mercy had given everyone the necessary care to stabilize them until their own doctors could assess them and proceed with proper treatment. But thanks to her, there were no deaths despite the perilous circumstances. Even amongst Overwatch’s elite, Mercy stood out to him as being one of a kind. Seeing her work first hand, he understood now that only she could have saved Genji. Their meeting truly was one of fate’s design.  

    “Did they say by whom?” Winston asked, adjusting his glasses as he typed on his own keyboard through the hologram projection. 

     “Negative. Fawkes was simple enough to question, though maddeningly inconsistent. But Rutledge was tight lipped and well acquainted with legal procedure. He instructed Fawkes not to comply,” Mercy said, crossing her arms. Hanzo knew that he could get the answers out of the duo if they needed them. But they would have to break them out of prison first, and take them somewhere a little more private. In prison they were protected by the law. The law stood in the way of real progress. 

     “Captain! We have another problem,” Zarya called. Hanzo and Mercy turned around to face her as she and Mei approached. Mei had a concerned look on her face that provoked a mimicry from Hanzo’s usual perpetual frown. 

     “What is it?” Mercy asked, stepping forward to assess the situation. Zarya was holding Doomfist’s gauntlet in her hands. 

     “According to Winston’s reports, Doomfist’s gauntlet is made of a complex weaving of titanium condensed down into micro-fibers that respond to his neural system,” Mei explained. Hanzo knew of the Ogundimu family in passing. They had been a major manufacturer of prosthetics that were said to respond to neural impulse as quickly as their organic predecessors. They cornered the market in ways that the Shimada could never penetrate. 

     “Yes that’s correct,” Mercy agreed, waiting for Mei to continue. But she and Hanzo both flinched as Zarya grabbed the fist and bent it with the sheer force of her arms. Zarya was strong, no one could take that from her. But titanium simply wasn’t supposed to bend like that. 

     "A fake… ” Winston gasped. The party all turned to the Winston hologram, who paused for a moment. “They’ve…had the real gauntlet for some time then. This was all a distraction. We’ve been had. This changes everything.” Hanzo watched the Gorilla’s nostrils flare with irritation, as he furrowed his brow and took a deep breath. “The mission is officially over. All units report back to base.” 

     “Roger that,” Mercy said, and the Winston hologram blinked out of sight. Mercy sighed and turned to face the rest of them. Zarya and Mei both had weary looks on their face. Hanzo just looked to Mercy for instructions. Mercy looked at her squad and then rolled her shoulders back triumphantly. “Well done team.” Zarya and Mei both looked up from their dispositions at Mercy. Mercy nodded and continued. “It appears we were sent to guard a decoy, but it cannot be denied that we guarded it rather well.” It took a moment for the compliment to sink in, but then Mei beamed. 

     “You were all so incredible!” Mei cheered with a little leap, and Mercy smiled. 

     “You must not be so humble, my heart. It was you who kept the building together,” Zarya said, and gently brushed the back of her knuckle along the curve of Mei’s cheek. Mei blushed with a shy smile, and Mercy smiled in kind, giving Hanzo a knowing look. Hanzo just nodded. “Pardon me, Captain. Before we return to the Gibraltar, perhaps I could interest you all in local delicacies. Have you ever tried Kartoshka?” Zarya asked. 

     “What is that?” Mei asked. All eyes turned to Zarya.  

     “Russian chocolate cake pops. They are made of a-”

     “Yes.” Mercy interrupted Zarya, and the three of them laughed together. “Let’s get moving. We’ll change into civilian clothes and enjoy a treat before returning to base.”

     “Yes Captain,” Zarya said, and turned to lead the way. Mei and Snowball cheered, following after her alongside Mei. Hanzo trailed after the women, analyzing the feeling of relief that washed over him at the sound of returning back to Spain. He kept silent, and was thankfully ignored as they all spoke in an inclosed oblivion. An internal countdown began in his mind, until he would be safe and sound in his current familiar corner.  Nine hours and he would be back and able to protect Genji. 

     …Nine hours and he would be back with Cassidy.

***

     Hanzo was glad to be back at the watchpoint and in his firm bed. When they arrived, Mercy had him analyzed for infections first. Apart from the blood loss he was fine. Rest, hydration, and a hearty meal would have him back to form in no time. He made himself a quick and easy meal, ate it, and immediately went to his room, locking the door behind him and falling asleep. 

     After a dead slumber, he woke up finally feeling properly rested and recharged. But the grime of constant travel and work was a little too tangible for his liking. It was time to take a good thorough shower. He rose from his bed, going over to his clothes and grabbing a fresh set to bring with him, along with a towel, his soap, and a pair of sandals for the communal floor. He rolled back his shoulders, and craned his neck from side to side to stretch off the stasis of slumber. Then he left his room, waiting for the hatch to shut behind him before making his way over to the men’s locker room. 

     Rested though he felt, he was still groggy from the accumulated lack of sleep. He set his hand on one of the empty lockers, digitally marking it as his own. The door opened upon registration, and he disrobed from his evening pajamas, setting the change of clothes in after it. He stood naked, taking his hair down from his tie and letting it fall loosely over his shoulders. Then he stepped into his pool shoes, and quietly made his way over to the showers. 

     It was empty, as he preferred. He took the shower on the opposite side of the room towards the corner, and then turned to face it. He gave the nozzle a soft twist and let his hand run under the water until it was appropriately warm. Then he slid in, letting the fresh water cascade down his body, washing away the grime as well as any latent stress. The pressure from the shower head pressed down on his scalp as the water flowed over him in a deafening hum. He closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of the ritual, finally able to let his guard down if only just for now. He hadn’t realized just how much Overwatch had become his new home. It was only now that it was truly clear to him. 

     He moved to grab his soap, but then he heard footsteps come from across the floor. Familiar footsteps. Flat footsteps. His body tensed, but he kept himself still and focused on his own shower. If Cole Cassidy wanted to shower now, there was hardly anything that he could do to stop him. There was no need to, anyway. Hanzo turned to face his shower fully, his back exposed to the rest of the tiled grid. He proceeded to wash the backs of his ears and neck with soap and an exfoliating shower towel D.Va sent him from Korea. But as he continued downward to his shoulders and arms, he heard the shower across from him in the back turn on. He took in a sharp breath, casting his glance aside. He could feel a pair of eyes on him. 

     His sixth sense burned from years of honed detection for enemy action. He wondered if Cassidy knew this about him. If the Cowboy was doing this intentionally, to communicate with him without having to say anything. He scrubbed down his arm, but then turned a hesitant glance backward. Cole Cassidy was standing across from him, fully naked. He was naked, and full frontal facing him in the shower, letting the water run down his own back, drenching his hair as it hung in damp wet curls along the sides of his head. The cowboy made eye contact with him unapologetically. Rudely. 

     To turn away now would be to show submission. Hanzo turned to face the cowboy down. He needed to show him that he would not be intimidated by his presence, no matter how he might try. He returned a somber gaze to Cassidy, but then leaned his head back into the water, letting it run through his hair. He stayed that way for what must have been thirty seconds, before lifting his head back up to face Cassidy once more. The cowboy was lathering himself with soap. But even as he scrubbed himself of his grime, he kept his eyes firmly on Hanzo. At first it was daring. And then…then it was inviting. 

     Hanzo took in a deep breath. His chest rose and fell, and his neck stretched as he swallowed. He blinked at Cassidy. His brow was furrowed. His brown eyes were still, but held an expression he didn’t know that he was communicating. It appeared that his body had a mind of its own. Or maybe that his mind had simply tired of restraint. He reached for his soap. Cassidy did the same. But then he stepped across the shower floor. Hanzo flinched, and Cassidy stopped. They looked into each other’s eyes for another moment, before Cassidy continued forward, closing the distance between himself and Hanzo. Hanzo took a hesitant step backward to make room for Cassidy. Cassidy only stepped in again. 

     He could feel the cowboy’s breath now. It was only slightly warmer than the steam of the shower. He looked into Cassidy’s eyes, but then his gaze drifted down to his lips. His top lip was the same shade as his sun tanned skin, but the bottom was just a little bigger. Just a little poutier. And notably peach shaded. Cassidy locked eyes with Hanzo, even as the archer looked down. He blindly reached for the soap from his wash bottle, lathering his hands, before slowly reaching for the archer. His coarse hand reached for the upper mound of Hanzo’s chest, gently caressing past it as he moved around to the archer’s back. Hanzo took in a sharp breath. His eyes moved up to Cassidy’s now. Asking. 

    Pleading . 

     Cassidy’s hands reached around to Hanzo’s back muscles. They were sore from the drawstring weight of his bow. The cowboy could feel the tension in his muscles, both from the strain of the mission, and from the stiff way that Hanzo kept himself locked up now. He gripped at Hanzo’s back powerfully, his fingers and knuckles digging into the tense lumps of Hanzo’s back muscles. Hanzo took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes. His shoulders fell slack, and his head fell backward with much needed relief as the stress left his body from Cassidy’s touch. He opened his eyes in just enough time to see the cowboy leaning in. He looked from Cassidy’s eyes to his lips, as the cowboy kneaded his back over and over again firmly. Then he leaned in as well to close the distance. 

     Cassidy’s lips were familiar to him now. He knew the soft pillow of Cassidy’s bottom lip like he knew the pillow that he laid his head on at night. He could read the writing of the lines that cut into the cowboys lips from when he would bite them in contemplation. So when Cassidy’s lips tugged on his own, begging for entrance, he accepted the invitation. Cassidy slid his tongue just over the slope of Hanzo’s lips, and Hanzo let his own loose to meet it. They kissed slowly, passionately, as the water from Hanzo’s shower washed over both of their bodies. Hanzo turned his head to deepen the kiss and Cassidy leaned the other way, keeping the archer close. 

     Neither of them sped up. Their first kiss had been one of passion and confusion. This held the rich sensual familiarity of two people who knew each other and needed each other. Cassidy’s modesty had reached the end of its rope though, and the cowboy used his tongue generously as he kissed Hanzo. But Hanzo didn’t mind. 

     He needed this. 

     His hands slid up the ridges of Cassidy’s round shoulders, wrapping themselves around the cowboy’s neck, while Cassidy’s hands made their way down to the small of Hanzo’s back. The cowboy was taller than him, but not in a way that made this uncomfortable. Not in a way that made him stand on his toes. Hanzo’s hands combed their way into the back of Cassidy’s hair weaving through the strands as he massaged Cassidy’s scalp. Then he felt one of Cassidy’s hands slide up his back, while the other moved downward to cup the apple of his backside. Hanzo gasped, pulling back for a moment, but then came back in for another kiss, gently nibbling and tugging on Cassidy’s bottom lip. 

     The cowboy grunted and took in a sharp breath through his nose before coming back for another kiss. Hanzo let a moan escape his throat before he could think not to give the cowboy the satisfaction. Cassidy walked them backward a step, and the shower water washed over them both. Neither broke. They just kissed under the man made waterfall, lips on lips. Tongue on tongue. Hanzo could feel his arousal starting to stiffen and grow. There was a throbbing ache between his legs that needed to be sated. But then he felt Cassidy’s own desire press up against his in equal fury. The archer pulled back, breathless. He looked into the cowboy’s eyes, as Cassidy mirrored back the same look of heat and desperation. 

     But the sound of the locker room door opening caught both of their attention. Hanzo retracted his hands from Cassidy’s neck, and the cowboy stepped back. He walked over to his own shower. Both men turned away from each other now, facing their respective corners, silently hoping that whoever just came in wouldn’t see either of them in full frontal exposure. 

     Hanzo just breathed. He breathed and thought about the most disgusting images his mind could conjure, doing his best to will away his arousal. It took a moment, but it worked. The throbbing ache between his legs died down, and he quickly washed his legs, before turning off the shower water and heading out the back of the shower, just in time to see Soldier: 76 making his way in on the other side. 

     Hanzo sighed with relief, before drying himself off and going back to his locker. He dressed with purpose now, both embarrassed and panicked at what might have transpired if Morrison hadn’t snapped him from the magnetic pull of Cole Cassidy’s intentions. Hanzo quickly tied his wet hair back into a tight bun, and then snatched his things so he could close the door to his locker. There was no denying it any longer. 

     Cole Cassidy was a problem.

Chapter Text

     “You know you want a bite.” 

     Hanzo glared at Cassidy, before turning his back to the cowboy. He forgot he needed to deliberately sleep in, in order to avoid splitting the communal kitchen with Cassidy in the morning. Now he was stuck working side by side with this nuisance as he chopped a green onion. “All you have to do is admit it’s the best omelet you’ve ever had,” Cassidy teased, turning to face Hanzo as he leaned on the kitchen counter. 

     Hanzo moved right by him as if he weren’t there. He grabbed an egg and cracked it into a bowl. “Your food is your own. I told you, I have no preference for omelets.” It was a half truth. He did find omelets too heavy to begin the day with, but there was no denying the cowboy had a way with the dish.

     “Come on now Han. Enough time has passed, you can just go ahead and admit it.” Hanzo rolled his eyes, working on his egg. Cassidy only came closer. Close enough to whisper, “I’ll even feed you, if you say please.” Hanzo inhaled sharply and glared at the cowboy from a side glance. Cassidy just shrugged and rose from his position into a proper stance. “Alright then, suit yourself. I made enough for two, but I suppose that just means more for me.” 

     “What’s that smell?” It was Pharah. Hanzo exhaled with irritation. Why were so many people here in the morning? The morning belonged to him and him alone.  

     “Fareeha! Just in time. Need you to settle a little score for me. Can you take a bite of this and tell me what you think?” Cassidy asked. He cut off a piece of the omelet with the broad side of his fork and held it up. To Hanzo’s surprise, Pharah leaned forward, letting Cassidy feed her. He blinked with astonishment, wondering if he’d just witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to see. 

     “Hmm….” She moaned, closing her eyes as she chewed. A strange feeling shot through Hanzo’s stomach. Something he wasn’t accustomed to, at least not anymore. Something that usually only Genji could provoke from him - Jealousy. 

     “Go ahead, tell me what you think,” Cassidy drawled with a confident smirk. Pharah finished her bite with a swallow. 

     “I have to admit, that’s probably the best omelet I’ve ever had,” Pharah confessed. 

     “Thank you,” Cassidy said, but he said it in a way that made it sound less like genuine gratitude toward Pharah, and more like a jab at Hanzo. Hanzo just finished his dish. He grabbed some of the day-old rice he had in the refrigerator and reheated it, before bowling together his breakfast bowl. He laid the side with tiny cutlets of salmon and garnished the top of it with another egg, green onion, and a soy sauce drizzle. “You can have the other one,” Cassidy offered. 

     “Oh, no thanks,” Pharah said. Cassidy’s eyes widened with astonishment. Hanzo tried his best to fight the smirk that crept up onto his face. He lost that fight. 

     “Come again?” Cassidy asked. 

     “Don’t get me wrong Cole, that’s a tasty omelet. But I’ve got things to do today. Something that heavy will have me crawling back into bed so my body can process it,” Pharah said. Cassidy looked at her as if she’d betrayed him in the deepest way possible. Hanzo practically floated to her side. 

     “Would you do me the honor?” Hanzo asked, presenting her with his bowl of tamago kake gohan with a fresh fork. She took a fork full. She paused for a moment but then her eyes lit up and laser focused on Hanzo’s bowl. 

     “That’s delicious! And it’s so light! Oh my goodness!” Pharah marveled at the dish. Cassidy just shook his head in irritation. Hanzo took the moment to turn up his charm. 

     “For your honesty.” He offered her the bowl in its entirety. Pharah grinned, readily taking the meal. 

     “Thank you! I’m off to a great day already!” She dug into the bowl and turned to walk out of the kitchen. Hanzo didn’t make eye contact with Cassidy. He just let the cowboy glare at him as he silently turned to make another bowl. Cassidy mumbled something just outside of Hanzo’s earshot, but then left the kitchen with both of his omelets. 

     Hanzo counted his flat footsteps as they clopped against the hard floor. He scooped another helping of his rice into the heater, until he couldn’t hear Cassidy anymore. Then he let himself smile, with a quiet snicker. 

****

     Hanzo was bent over on a flat bench. His left palm and knee were on the bench to stabilize him, as his right leg stood straight from the floor, and his right arm pulled on a fifty pound dumbbell, in a deadstop row. He made certain to exhale as the weight came to a full draw, and then inhaled as he slowly lowered the weight back down. He needed to feel the exhaustion of the workout. It was better to be too tired in the gym, than it was mid battle. 

     He finished his set, before taking his towel and dabbing the light sweat that formed on his neck. He took a drink of his water bottle, and then made his way over to the bench bar. It appeared Zarya had been the last to use it, judging by the weight. Part of him wanted to attempt it, just to see if he could. But he didn’t have a spot to save him from himself, so he opted to behave and removed some of the weight. 

     That was when he heard a familiar set of flat footsteps come clopping in. He glanced over to see Cole Cassidy in a tank top and a pair of shorts that were just a little too short, and a little too tight on him. Hanzo assumed it was on purpose. The sad part is it might have had an effect on him, were it not for the cowboy’s comedically hairy legs. Hanzo just blinked. 

     “Oh, funny seeing you here,” Cassidy said, exaggeratedly taking out his ear buds. Hanzo just nodded at him and moved under the bench press. “Working on the chest today then? Me too. Here, I’ll give you a spot,” Cassidy said, moving behind the bench press bar to help Hanzo unrack the weight. Hanzo didn’t wait for him. He effortlessly removed the weight from the rack, and then brought it down to the center of his chest. Cassidy looked down at him with an impressed approval. 

     Hanzo counted out the reps of his set until he hit the max, and then re-wracked the weight. “Mind if I work in?” Cassidy asked. Hanzo slid from under the bar. 

     “...No. Do you require a spot?” Hanzo asked, regretting it as soon as the words left his lips. 

     “Well if you wouldn’t mind,” Cassidy said, because of course he did. Hanzo just nodded and moved to the side. He started to remove the weight that he had. “Woah woah,” Cassidy said, holding his hand out to beckon Hanzo to stop. Hanzo just looked at him. “This weight’ll do just fine.” 

     Hanzo paused. He took a good look at Cassidy. There was muscle definition there, sure. He had felt it first hand. But Hanzo lifted the weight that he lifted because the draw weight of his bow string had to be heavy enough that his arrows pierced mechs and omnics if the need called for it. There wasn’t much of a draw weight to a six shot revolver. “You are certain?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Yeah, that’ll be a great warm-up,” Cassidy said, sitting on the bench and then dramatically rolling his shoulders to pump up for the lift. Hanzo arched one eyebrow, took a deep breath, and then moved behind the bar, bracing himself to catch this bar when Cassidy inevitably dropped it. The cowboy laid back and then slid beneath the bar, looking up to Hanzo and locking eyes for just a moment, before smirking and lifting. 

     Then his eyes widened in horror as he moved to bring the bar over his chest. His wrist curled backward in an unsafe way, and the weight began to wobble as the cowboys arms shook. Hanzo pulled the weight back himself, guiding the cowboy back to the rack. Cassidy let loose a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

     “Are you well?” Hanzo asked, a slight air of irritation in his voice. Cassidy laid flat just catching his breath. He shook out his arm and wrist. 

     “I’m fine, just an awkward start is all. Maybe just need to widen my grip a little bit, make sure I’m equidistant,” Cassidy said, as his eyes darted around. 

     “Or perhaps you need to remove about fifty pounds,” Hanzo countered. He was normally a disciple of the school of suffering, and would otherwise let Cassidy learn his lesson the hard way. But the thought of Cassidy dropping this weight on his chest and shattering his rib cage brought him no peace. 

     “Nonsense. You’re stronger Han, but the gap between us ain’t that large,” Cassidy said, spurring himself on. He cracked his neck as he prepared himself with a look of vague determination. Hanzo looked down at him from above and crossed his arms. He sighed and then shook his head. Then the words came to him. His lips curled into a soft smile, that was better demonstrated by the look in his eyes. 

     “...Why is everything a competition with you?” Hanzo asked, harkening back to their dart game once upon a time. Cassidy caught the reference. He smirked up at Hanzo, and then focused on the bar with a new look of invigoration. Hanzo smirked back, and then lowered his hands to be ready to catch the bar, just in case. Cassidy unracked the weight, and then brought it down to his chest. To his own surprise, he was able to press it back up this time. 

     Cassidy moved slower at first, pressing up one, two, three times, but then he felt the fatigue creep into his muscles. Hanzo moved to grab the weight, but Cassidy brought it back down, insisting that he could keep going. Four…five…six…He pressed over and over again, until he managed to make his way up to ten. Then he reached backward with the weight, and Hanzo caught it, guiding him back to the rack. 

     “Whew! There we go,” Cassidy said in faux triumph. Hanzo closed his eyes and shook his head, resisting the desire to mock the cowboy. It would only spur this on forward. Instead, he approached the bench himself as Cassidy rose, and then quickly pressed out his next set. Hanzo kept his pace consistent, as the bar raised and lowered over and over again. He felt the burn in his chest, but he made it to the end of his set with the usual ease. 

     “There,” Hanzo said, rising from the bench. Cassidy shot him a wary look, as if to ask why Hanzo managed to knock out that set so quickly. The cowboy needed more time to catch his breath. Hanzo just stood up and stood aside, waiting for Cassidy to approach the bench. 

     “Alright then,” Cassidy said, a little less confidently this time. The cowboy’s arms shook even as he moved to lay down. Hanzo just rolled his eyes and moved behind the weight rack. Cassidy took two quick breaths, forcefully blowing the air from his chest and then lifted the weight from the rack. His arms and chest rose to the challenge, but when he brought the weight down, he tried to push it back up. 

     He was stuck. The vein in his forehead throbbed, and his skin started to pink as he held his breath. The cowboy grunted and rolled his lips inward, making a facial expression that seared its way into Hanzo’s memory bank. Hanzo just held his hands out, waiting to see if the cowboy would push through or bring the weight back down. Cassidy pushed up about two more inches, and then let out a pained groan. 

     Hanzo grabbed the weight and pulled it back up onto the rack. Cassidy gasped for air on the bench, mumbling profanities and stretching with an exaggerated exhaustion. 

     Hanzo just shook his head and took another drink. 

*** 

     “Your laundry is ready,” Athena said. Hanzo set down the book he was reading. He hadn’t done his clothes in a little too long. All that was left was his formal attire. He uncharacteristically sat up in gray slacks, a black sweater, and a pair of dress shoes. It wasn’t cold this time of year in Spain. 

     “Hn.” He rose from his seat and grabbed his hamper, before leaving his room. He walked down the halls of the watchpoint base, until he came to the common laundry room. But he stopped outside of it, hearing familiar humming. Cassidy was in the laundry room. Hanzo froze and swallowed. It seemed he was running into the cowboy everywhere. 

     The base was large, but in his opinion it simply wasn’t large enough. But he found himself unwilling to proceed forward, both because he didn’t necessarily want to interact with Cassidy anymore than he had to, and because there was something intimate about this moment. The cowboy’s baritone was surprisingly warm and full. And it was soothing. He just listened. 

     He stayed there standing still outside of the laundry room as Cassidy hummed, until he heard footsteps approaching from another direction down the hall. He sighed, and decided to walk in. The cowboy turned to face him immediately. He smiled and gave Hanzo a nod of greetings. “Hanzo! Laundry day for you too, hunh?” 

     “Cassidy.” Hanzo said, reaching to grab his things from the dryer. He gathered his clothes and put them in the bin, before checking to empty the filter. The cowboy crept closer.

     “Uh, Han?” Hanzo looked over at Cassidy. The Cowboy had a pair of Hanzo’s boxer briefs dangling from his mechanical index finger. Hanzo blushed and took it quickly, adding it to his pile. “Must have been some kind of mix up,” Cassidy said. 

     “Apologies.” Hanzo said, quickly shoving the laundry filter back into its slot. Cassidy only slid closer. 

     “No trouble at all.” It was barely above a whisper. Hanzo shivered and licked his lips. Cassidy was touching him now. The cowboy leaned with his back turned to the dryer, while Hanzo stood facing it. They looked at each other, their legs brushing up against one another. Hanzo felt his body responding. He just breathed. 

     “Is…there something else you require?” Hanzo asked. His voice was breathy now, as his eyes flickered between Cassidy’s eyes and his lips. He matched the cowboy’s quiet whisper. Cassidy just shook his head, slowly. 

     “No…I’m all set. What about you, hunh?” The cowboy leaned even closer, and Hanzo flinched with a swallow. “...Anything you need?” His voice was even deeper than it normally was. Hanzo felt chills rush down his lower back. His lips fell open as he breathed, and his arousal throbbed between his legs. 

     Hanzo lingered for a moment longer, but then swallowed and backed away. “No. I take my leave. The laundry is all yours,” Hanzo said, and marched off. His gait was awkward now, due to a certain problem that threw off his usual balance. 

     Cassidy watched him walk away for a moment longer, then went back to humming as he folded his laundry. 

**** 

     “So…you and Cole, hunh?” 

     Hanzo nearly choked. He had just finished cooking his dinner, and was loading the dishwasher with his utensils, when Soldier: 76 walked in, making a cup of late night coffee. For an older man, Hanzo had to admit that Morrison was quite handsome. He had the physique of someone half his age, and in their physical prime, much like Ana. He wore a black fitted t-shirt that clung tightly just around his biceps and showed the muscle definition in his chest. It was tucked into a pair of fitted jeans kept in place with a black belt and a pair of matching dress shoes. He smiled softly. 

     “I do not take your meaning,” Hanzo said, wary of Morrison. Cassidy had warned him that now that he and Ana were back at the Gibraltar with Winston’s new Overwatch initiative, they would attempt something of a silent coup. Was this his attempt at gathering information? Were the executives aware of his and Cassidy’s deception? 

     Morrison gave a one note chuckle, and shook his head. “You’re right, my apologies. It’s none of my business,” Morrison said, turning back to the coffee machine. He poured himself a mug of dark brown liquid, no sugar or cream. “Just…a word of advice?” Hanzo turned to face him now. “It’s your secret, until Winston knows. Once Winston knows, everyone knows. You wouldn’t think it but…he’s a gossip.” 

     Hanzo just blinked, finally understanding the veteran’s implication. “You…Cassidy and I…are not…” he clarified as he stammered. Morrison just smirked. Hanzo noticed the old veteran wore a watch on his wrist, but just beneath it, he could see the clear dark outline of the initials G.L. on his wrist. Cassidy told Hanzo that he assumed that Reyes and Morrison had something between them. Perhaps Reyes gave Cassidy a fake name? Or perhaps this G.L. had been the reason that Reyes and Morrison fell out. 

     “Of course not,” Morrison said. Hanzo snapped out of his trance, looking back at Soldier 76 who could clearly see that Hanzo had laid eyes on his mark. “Have a nice night, Hanzo.” Morrison walked away, blowing on the top of his hot coffee, before giving it a hesitant sip. Hanzo just stood there flustered. He shook himself loose with an indignant quiet huff, and then went back to filling the dishwasher. He closed it just a little too roughly. 

***

     Hanzo was awake. He kept trying to fall asleep, but he just couldn’t get comfortable. There wasn’t enough fatigue in his body yet, and his mind kept pestering him to answer questions that he didn’t know the answers to. So he spent his evening rifling through the Overwatch databases and logs. 

     He thought that he had met so many people already, but the new initiative wasn’t even a fraction of what Overwatch used to be. Now that he had a few missions under his belt, his access to the logs had been upgraded by Athena. He rifled through the profiles for Vivian Chase, Jack Morrison, Ana Amari, Gabriel Reyes, and now Moira O’dearain. She was the geneticist Cassidy mentioned who performed her experimentations on Gabriel Reyes. To Hanzo’s horror, it seemed the doctor also had a hand in Genji’s operation alongside Mercy, the night that everything changed for them both. 

     Hanzo sat up. He just took deep breaths as he felt himself reacting to the memory of that night and everything that followed. The stress began to well within him, burning like a furnace that needed to be quelled. He had sat on this too long. It was time to talk about this. He dismissed the holographic report of Dr. O’dearain, running a hand through his hair as he brought himself down from the pain of his memories. He swallowed. “Athena.” 

     “Yes Hanzo?” The A.I. asked. 

     “I would like to message Genji,” Hanzo said. 

     “Go ahead. I will relay the message.” 

     “Just…ask him if he is awake. Ask him if we can talk,” Hanzo said, feeling a sadness wash over his spirit. 

     “Your message has been sent. I will tell you when he responds,” Athena replied. Hanzo nodded and sat still. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes, focusing on what he could hear around him. The hum of the lights. The ticking of the electricity that shifted through the walls. He could hear the air conditioning that kept the gibraltar at a comfortable temperature. He watched the panicked thoughts in his mind drift by like clouds. He would deal with them soon, and rid himself of them once and for all. 

     “Hanzo, you have a message from Cassidy,” Athena said. Hanzo opened his eyes with a look of confusion and irritation. The hologram blinked open with written text that said ‘You up?’ Hanzo just sat still for the moment. He knew he shouldn’t answer. He knew that nothing good was going to happen at this hour. But the truth was that he was up, and bored, and perhaps the cowboy had answers to questions that could help them both. 

     Hanzo exhaled. “Tell him yes.” Athena blinked out of his way and Hanzo sat still. A few moments passed, and then he heard footsteps outside of the metal hatch of his door. Hanzo had Athena open the door before Cassidy could knock. Cassidy walked in with an eyebrow raised. “Can I help you?” Hanzo asked. 

     The door closed behind Cassidy. He brandished a bottle of whiskey and two low ball glasses. It was a Yamazaki. “Went into town for a restock. Happened to come across one of these, if you can believe it. Thought you might want to join me for a glass,” Cassidy said.

     Hanzo looked at him for a moment longer. Liquor brought him relief when last they were together under similar circumstances. He could use a break from himself. “Please remove your boots before you step on the floor mat,” Hanzo said, and rose from his bed. Cassidy set the bottle and glasses aside and did as he was asked. Hanzo moved across the floor to join him. He took a glass  “My room is tatami style. I would offer you a seat, if it will not hurt your legs.” 

    Cassidy looked at the low table. “Am I allowed to sit cross-legged? Not too sure about the customs. Don’t wanna offend ya,” Cassidy said. Hanzo nodded. 

    “Cross-legged is fine,” Hanzo said. He took the bottle and glasses from Cassidy and set them on his low table, before stooping to his knees. Cassidy joined him, lowering himself down onto one of the floor pillows by the table, crossing his legs. Hanzo poured them both a glass of the liquor, and then set down the bottle, raising his glass with Cassidy’s. 

     <<Cheers.>> Hanzo said in Japanese.

     “Ditto,” Cassidy said, holding up his glass with Hanzo’s. They looked each other in the eye and then broke as they mutually sipped. Hanzo felt the relief wash over his body as soon as the liquid hit his lips. It was a placebo effect to be certain, but one that he wasn’t in a hurry to correct. If whiskey worked, then it worked. “Yep. That’s the stuff,” Cassidy said, and Hanzo just nodded. They sat in silence for a while longer, just drinking in mutual company. Cassidy unsurprisingly was the one who broke the moment. “So, anything been on your mind?” Hanzo paused. Plenty was on his mind. 

     “Have you heard any news?” Hanzo asked. He needed to choose his words carefully. Athena was always listening to everything that happened on the Gibraltar. She assured him multiple times that video footage and audio recordings wouldn’t be played back without his express consent, but he was wary nonetheless. It was entirely possible that Winston had the clearance to override Athena’s settings. 

     Cassidy shook his head. “Nothing on this end. What about you?” Cassidy asked. Hanzo shook his head as well. 

     “I thought so for a moment, but I was misguided,” Hanzo said, and Cassidy nodded. 

     “Good. Then we’re alright.” 

     “How certain are you of…” Hanzo paused. He needed to choose his words carefully. Cassidy waited for him to finish his question. “Is it at all possible that the person you seek operates under a pseudonym?” 

     Cassidy blinked with a thoughtful expression. “No. He wouldn’t have acquired his status with a fake. The inspections they do on us are top notch. Ain’t nothing getting by the screening process,” Cassidy said, taking another drink. Hanzo sighed, realizing that Winston knew what he had done to Genji, then. He already suspected, but that was confirmation enough.  

     “Have you by chance…glanced at some of the soulmate marks here at Overwatch?” Hanzo asked. Cassidy just shook his head. 

     “Never really paid much attention to that sort of thing.” The cowboy held up his own blank wrist. Hanzo knew it was blank; he’d already seen it. But it was interesting how readily the cowboy showed his wrist. Many people covered them with makeup or sleeves as matters of privacy. The demonstration made it clear that the cowboy had nothing to hide. 

     “You do not?” Hanzo asked, unbelieving. In their time together, many of Cassidy’s layers were peeled away, regardless of Hanzo’s desire - or lack thereof - to know him. He wore his caricature well, but Hanzo knew that underneath the cigar smoke and bravado there was a soft underbelly to Cassidy.  

     “You do?” Cassidy fired back. Hanzo looked aside. It was a fair barb. He had been less than receptive to anything Cassidy offered. “Love’s a choice. You gotta choose it every day. A little tattoo on your wrist don’t mean nothing,” Cassidy said. Hanzo’s eyebrows lifted as he let Cassidy’s words sink in.  

     “An interesting stance. I am curious to know why you feel that way, but I will not pry if it is a matter of privacy,” Hanzo explained. He finished his glass and gestured to the bottle. “May I?” Cassidy nodded. 

    “By all means. That bottle’s for us. Take as much as you like,” Cassidy said. Hanzo poured himself another, and Cassidy moved his glass forward. Hanzo took the hint and poured him one to match. “Thank you kindly.” They sipped together again. It burned his throat but he didn’t mind. He felt that much needed relief again, and leaned into it. 

     Cassidy put his glass down and paused for a moment thoughtfully. “It’s not that I don’t believe in it, that’s probably a little too harsh. If mine ever pops into place I’d be curious to meet my partner. It’s unlikely at this age, but hey - never say never.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “All I’m saying is…a soulmate kinda implies a love without effort. That’s where you lose me every time. Say I meet my partner, and they’re a real piece of work. What if they’re manipulative, violent, and we just don’t match like we should? Am I supposed to change everything about myself to make it work? Settle for something that just ain’t right? For what?” 

     Hanzo pondered that. He had heard of cases of soulmates hating each other. Of arranged marriages happening but then falling apart despite the guidance of the tattoo. There was a growing wave of people who disavowed their marks, that held a similar opinion to Cassidy’s. Hanzo swallowed and exposed his wrist. Cassidy’s eyes widened. 

     “Well well. You neither, hunh?” Cassidy asked. Hanzo pulled it back. 

     “...I thought…it was going to be my childhood friend,” Hanzo said. He took another drink. 

     “...Thought mine was gonna be Ashe…” Cassidy confessed. He took a drink as well. 

     “Are you sad, or relieved?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Both. She got hers just before I was gonna try to make my move. In a way it kind of gave me the closure I needed,” Cassidy said. 

     “I’m surprised you didn’t proceed anyway. I thought you didn’t put stock in it,” Hanzo said. 

     “I don’t. She did,” Cassidy said. “And you? What happened with your old friend?” 

     Hanzo frowned and looked aside. “It was not meant to be.” He left it at that, and thankfully Cassidy left it there as well. The cowboy had learned Hanzo’s tells now, in an intimate and familiar way. There were times when he could press, and there were times when he should stop. This was a time to stop. 

     Hanzo looked at Cassidy. His vision was blurred, but in the glow of the low-lit paper lanterns of his room, Hanzo could see the colors in the cowboy’s eyes again. So uncharacteristically beautiful, on such a rugged face. He let himself stare for a moment longer, indulging in the spectacle of their pattern. Cassidy looked back at him. Hanzo analyzed the meaning of his expression. Eyebrows only slightly raised, but tense nonetheless. His eyes were soft. Patient but wanting. His lips curled up into a smile. It was a sad smile. “Are you alright?” Hanzo asked. 

     “Come again?” Cassidy asked. 

     “Something weighs on you. I know the feeling,” Hanzo said. The cowboy chuckled. 

     “Liquor’s getting to you, Han. Maybe we should slow down,” Cassidy said, looking away. 

     “It takes more than that to get me drunk. You know as well as I do,” Hanzo said. The cowboy paused but then looked up at Hanzo. Hanzo waited but then said “I will not pry.” 

     “...I wish you would,” Cassidy mumbled. They looked at each other for a moment longer, but then the Cowboy grabbed the empty glasses. “You know what? Never mind. Forget I said that. Thanks for the drink Han. Glad to see you’re uh…doing well after the trip to Russia. Bottle’s all yours.” Cassidy gave Hanzo a nod and walked over to the door. 

     Hanzo swallowed and looked up, watching Cassidy walk away. At first he felt confusion. Then the confusion gave way to that same provocative twinge in his stomach he felt when they were in Texas. He didn’t want Cassidy to leave. He wanted him to stay. ‘Ask him to stay.’  

     “...Cassidy.”

     The cowboy stopped at the door, but he didn’t turn around. He just waited and then looked back over his shoulder. Hanzo exhaled and then stood up from his seated position. He walked over to the cowboy, waiting for him to turn and face him in full. Cassidy turned around slowly, looking into Hanzo’s eyes. Hanzo exhaled again, and then looked aside. His nerves were still haywire. He didn’t have the resolve that he needed to do what needed to be done. But then he pushed himself through his own nerves, one step at a time. He reached for Cassidy’s hands, taking the glasses from him and setting them aside on the stand by the door. 

     “This Is me prying.” Hanzo said. He looked up into Cassidy’s eyes now. They stared into each other’s eyes for an unmistakable moment. Then Hanzo began again. “What do you want?” 

     “What do you want?” Cassidy fired back. 

     “I asked you first," Hanzo said.

     “And I went first last time, and you made a fool of me,” Cassidy said. Hanzo flinched, but he didn’t look away. The cowboy was right. It was Hanzo’s move. His chest filled with a new intake of nervous air. He looked into Cassidy’s eyes. He saw wanting, but also irritation. Patience, but frustration, and rightfully so. Hanzo swallowed and looked away. Cassidy just nodded and moved to walk out of the door. 

     Hanzo caught his wrist. Cassidy looked back at him. Hanzo looked from Cassidy’s eyes to his lips. He stepped in closer, breathing in. He let go of the cowboy’s wrist, and then reached instead for his lower back. Cassidy stepped in to meet him. From here he couldn’t back down. He needed to see the moment through. Hanzo closed his eyes and leaned in, gently pressing his lips against Cassidy’s. 

     As soon as their lips touched, the cowboy and the archer relaxed into each other. The tension melted away from Hanzo’s shoulders, and the strain fell from the backs of his eyes. He heard Cassidy breathe out from his nostrils as a low moan rumbled into the back of his throat. Cassidy’s tongue slid across his bottom lip, asking the archer to let him in. Hanzo opened his mouth immediately. 

     They kissed again and again. Hanzo’s brow furrowed as he kissed Cassidy, giving himself over to the moment. He felt Cassidy’s hands work their way up to his shoulders, and then around the back of his neck. Hanzo broke the kiss for a moment to look into Cassidy’s eyes. Then he removed the cowboy’s hat, setting it by the glasses near the door stand. 

     He kissed Cassidy again, turning his head and slowly walking backwards while pulling on the small of Cassidy’s back. The cowboy followed his lead as he backed them over to his bed. Then Hanzo slowly turned them, gently bringing Cassidy over to the bed and laying him down. Cassidy looked up at him and then laid back, sprawled out like a lounging lion. 

     Hanzo crawled over him, keeping his weight in his hands and knees, lowering himself down to kiss the cowboy again. This time he tugged on Cassidy’s bottom lip with a playful pull, and Cassidy smiled up at him with a satisfied grin. He felt the cowboy’s hands begin to reach down to the small of his back, but Hanzo grabbed them and pinned them above the cowboy’s head. They played his game last time. This time it was Hanzo’s turn to have his way with Cassidy. 

     His lips lowered down to Cassidy’s neck, kissing, nibling, and sucking on the delicate skin in a tantalizing arc. He heard Cassidy’s breath in his ear, as he panted. The heat between them was becoming unbearable. Hanzo pulled up the bottom of Cassidy’s shirt, and the cowboy sat up to help him take it off. Then he took off his own shirt, throwing them both to the floor. He came back down onto Cassidy, kissing him again. 

     His kiss was slow but forceful. Powerful. He was giving Cassidy an appetizer before the main event. Hanzo controlled the pace and the tension, and Cassidy moved with him to match. Then he moved back down to Cassidy’s neck, and then his chest. He took one of his nipples into his mouth, kissing and licking it, before pulling it between his teeth. Cassidy flinched. There were pink marks where Hanzo bit him. Hanzo licked them again to soothe the sting, and Cassidy let a deep moan slip out of his lips. 

     Hanzo fondled the other nipple with his hand as he kissed lower and lower. Then he tugged on Cassidy’s belt, undoing it and slowly pulling it through the loops. He sat up, looking down into Cassidy’s eyes as he unbuttoned his slacks. Cassidy’s face was flush, but his eyes were hungry. Hanzo pulled his pants down, and then came down to kiss him again. 

     He could feel Cassidy’s length press up against him now that it was free from his pants. Hanzo started a slow deep grind between them, rubbing their arousals together. Cassidy moaned and Hanzo moved up to nibble on his ear. Cassidy unconsciously thrusted back up into Hanzo, the friction wrapping him in a moment of mindless indulgence. Cassidy’s hands dug into Hanzo’s back and Hanzo kissed him again, rolling his hips deeper and deeper into Cassidy’s. 

     “Han…” Cassidy groaned. Hanzo muffled the cowboy’s moans with another deep kiss. Cassidy kissed him back greedily. Hanzo broke the kiss and pulled Cassidy’s boxer briefs down. He looked into Cassidy’s eyes as he slowly started to stroke him. The cowboy closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto Hanzo’s pillow. Then they opened again when he felt Hanzo’s wet tongue lick the tip.  

     Cassidy’s mouth fell open. Hanzo licked it up and down, coating it to make it slick before sliding his lips down onto the cowboy’s length. Hanzo’s head began to bob up and down between Cassidy’s thighs, his lips creating a vacuum seal on the center of Cassidy’s pleasure. Cassidy’s entire body seized up as he shuddered. He began to buck up into Hanzo’s mouth. 

     Cassidy was moaning so much he didn’t even realize it. Hanzo grabbed the back of Cassidy’s right leg, bringing it up over his shoulder, as he continued to bob up and down - up and down - over and over again. Cassidy trembled and shuddered, his head falling back onto the pillow repeatedly. His toes crossed. His hands grasped the sheets. 

     “H-Han…!” 

     It was a whimper. Hanzo stayed the course, picking up the pace. Cassidy swore, biting his bottom lip. He looked down at Hanzo as he worked. Then Hanzo took Cassidy out of his mouth, stroking him but moving his mouth lower. He pressed his lips against Cassidy’s balls, sucking in air to pull it into his mouth.

     “Oh fuck…!” 

     Hanzo stroked Cassidy deeply, keeping a comfortable tension in his hands as he licked Cassidy’s bulge. The cowboy’s hips were bucking uncontrollably now, but Hanzo kept him still and pinned, stroking him with his right hand but holding his leg with the left. 

     “Han…! Oh fuck…! ...Please!” 

     Hanzo kept going. He sped up the pace as he stroked and sucked. He switched one of Cassidy’s jewels out, swapping it for the other. He kept his teeth far back and out of the way, licking and sucking on it with nothing but the tension of the air as he pulled it in. The cowboy was making noises foreign to his ear, but he paid him no mind. Cassidy’s body told him everything he needed to know. Judging by the wriggling of his toes, the grip of his fingers, and the tension in his hips, he wouldn’t last much longer. 

     Cassidy moaned. He grit his teeth. He blew through his lips doing his best to calm himself, but it was no use. “Han I’m gonna…!” Hanzo sped up on cue. He stroked Cassidy off with tension, bringing him to completion as he erupted with a moan that bordered on a wheeze. Cassidy’s seed burst out of him until he fired blanks. 

     Hanzo wiped him clean, and then looked down at Cassidy. The cowboy’s eyes were glazed over with the blissful afterglow of a powerful orgasm. Hanzo came down to kiss him again, gently this time, giving the cowboy a moment to gather himself. Cassidy matched the gentle kiss until they broke. 

     “Damn Han…” Cassidy breathed. Hanzo stood up from the bed, his own erection outstretched and throbbing. Cassidy watched it swing as he walked. 

     “When you’re ready,” Hanzo said. Cassidy swallowed and then stood up out of the bed. He walked over to Hanzo. Hanzo guided him over to the wall, spinning the cowboy so that his chest faced the wall, and his back was to the archer. He moved behind Cassidy, lacing his fingers through the backs of the cowboy’s fingers. Cassidy closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. Then he felt Hanzo’s lips on the back of his neck, and a pair of slick fingers slide into his entrance. 

     Cassidy’s mouth fell open. Hanzo worked his fingers in and out, opening, spreading, teasing. He massaged Cassidy’s hole until it was well dilated and ready, all the while kissing and sucking on the back of Cassidy’s neck. Hanzo curled his fingers up inside of Cassidy, and the cowboy went up on balls of his feet. Then he nibbled on Cassidy’s ear again as he replaced his fingers with his own arousal.

     “Hnngh!” 

     Cassidy moaned as Hanzo pressed into him. Hanzo massaged Cassidy’s chest, rubbing his nipples in circles with the sides of his thumbs as he waited for Cassidy’s entrance to relax. When it loosened he pushed in deeper. He did this inch by inch until he was at the base. “Is that alright?” Hanzo whispered into Cassidy’s ear. Cassidy nodded, curling his fingers into fists against the wall. Hanzo whispered again. “I’m going to move. Tell me if you need me to stop.” 

     Hanzo moved out, then thrusted back in deeply, slowly. He did this again and again, pulling out to the point of nearly falling out, and then pushing all the way back into the hilt. He thrusted from the hips, carrying his weight and Cassidy’s weight with the strength of his thighs. Cassidy moaned throatily, his erection coming back to form. 

     Hanzo kept his thrusts slow but deep. His left hand threaded through Cassidy’s fingers. The right reached around to stroke the cowboy in tandem with his thrusts. His lips moved from his neck to his ear, and then back to his neck, and then to the other ear. Cassidy felt himself pressing back into Hanzo for more, and Hanzo gave it to him. 

     “Hanzo….” Cassidy sighed as Hanzo pushed into him again. Then he felt everything in his body jolt as Hanzo pierced into just the right place. Cassidy looked back with a mixture of shock and pleasure. Hanzo did it again. Cassidy let loose a moan he’d never be able to live down. Hanzo just did it again. And again. 

     “Han…! Han…!”

     Hanzo sunk his teeth down into Cassidy’s muscles and thrusted into him again. Cassidy’s body tightened with pleasure, which made Hanzo speed up from the pleasure of Cassidy’s grip. He bucked into the cowboy powerfully, the slapping sounds of their skin clapping out. Cassidy was uttering profanities and praise. Hanzo just kept kissing him. 

     “Han…Han I can’t hold on…It’s coming!” Cassidy said. Hanzo picked up the pace, stroking the cowboy to completion for the second time. Cassidy spilled against the wall, but clenched back onto Hanzo. Hanzo sped up himself, feeling his own orgasm approaching. He grunted as he thrusted, keeping his rhythm steady until he felt it. 

     “Hngh!”

     “Do it..”

     “Augh~!”      

     Hanzo released inside of Cassidy, the relief and euphoria washed over him immediately. He closed his eyes, letting his forehead rest on Cassidy’s shoulder for the moment as they both caught their breath. He waited for the sensation to leave, before gently pulling out of the cowboy. Cassidy turned to face him. 

     Hanzo reached for Cassidy’s hand, pulling him back to the bed.   

Chapter Text

     The days that went by were a mix of aged liquor and body-heat. Hanzo almost didn’t seem to understand how and why it continued to happen. One minute he would be in the kitchen trying to make himself something to eat, or folding his laundry in the laundry room. The next thing he knew, he and Cassidy would be rolling around on top of each other, panting and grunting. 

     Hanzo had to take responsibility for this most recent trist. He knew exactly what would happen when he came to Cassidy’s door in the dead of evening, wearing a tanktop after he’d moisturized. He knew the way that Cassidy liked to see the gleam of his exposed skin in low light. The cowboy wasn’t a difficult read despite his best efforts to appear enigmatic and unknowable. In all actuality, Hanzo had counted on this reaction. 

     His assessment proved correct, because now he was being pressed deep into Cassidy’s mattress. His legs were folded up so that his knees aligned with his chest, as Cassidy’s body weight kept them pinned. The cowboy thrusted into him over and over again as they kissed in heated missionary, their tongues twisting and tugging around each other. They moaned with a feral heat as their bodies ground together.

     His eyes were unfocused now, as his bodily experience devolved into a series of different sensations. He could hear the sound of bedsprings creaking and Cassidy’s headboard hitting the wall with his pace. He could feel Cassidy’s bodyweight on top of him, crushing him in just the right way. His vision was a blur of the rustic country minimalism of the surrounding room, and the man actively moving inside of him. It was the sight of everything and yet nothing in particular as they explored each other’s bodies. This was a wonderful break from himself. One he had come to lean on.

     “I’m close,” Cassidy panted in a rasp, the sweat on his back starting to trickle. Hanzo clutched onto him, looking up into his eyes as they kissed again. This was his favorite part; when Cassidy’s passion took him to a state of complete recklessness. His kiss widened beyond their lips, his tongue licked and tugged at his mouth, and his rhythm gave way to whatever brought out the most improper noise from the archer. Hanzo grit his teeth, trying to fight back the moan that threatened to slip out from the back of his throat.

     Cassidy had no restraint. His thrusts were ragged now, and he clutched onto Hanzo’s back as he rammed into him once…twice…once more. His body shivered for a moment, and then he held still, clinging to Hanzo desperately and breathing as the energy flowed out of his body in exquisite release. Hanzo could feel the sensation of Cassidy filling him with his cum, his jaw dropping as his shoulders hiked. He held still, remaining in place until Cassidy was finished.

     And now they were just laying together, gasping.The cowboy pulled out slowly and then rolled off of Hanzo, laying next to him and breathing heavily. Hanzo just closed his eyes, enjoying the afterglow that came from their encounters. There was this moment of utter euphoria, when just for a minute the voices of criticism were scared away by Cassidy’s vigor, and he savored it selfishly. But then he felt Cassidy’s eyes on him and he turned to look. They were eyes of concern. It took Hanzo a moment, but he realized what was wrong. “I am alright.”

     Cassidy’s expression softened again. The first time they were together Hanzo had an unforeseen reaction, and now every time since, the Cowboy would frantically check to make sure that Hanzo was okay when they went at it. It appeared to be a one-time anomaly. Every time they were together since had gone off without a hitch, and this was the sixth . Cassidy just nodded and then looked back up at the ceiling.

     To Hanzo the silence was comfortable, but he could tell that Cassidy had something on his mind. The way he shifted and licked his lips gave him away every time. He waited. He wasn’t wrong, but Cassidy at least kept it together a full thirty seconds before saying “Hey so…this is great. But I figure you and I are overdue for a conversation.” Hanzo turned his head to the side to look at Cassidy. He waited for the cowboy to continue. “I mean, what we just did there was…” Cassidy said, trailing off in awe. 

     “What are you saying, Cole?” Hanzo asked. He was Cassidy everywhere else, but in these private moments when they were alone and laying side by side with their heads on the pillows, he was Cole.

     “...You know what I’m saying,” Cassidy said. The comfortable silence evaporated into a cloud of tension. Hanzo knew this was coming. It wasn’t right for him to continue using Cassidy’s body to subdue his inner demons. Not without an honest disclosure. 

     “You want a commitment?” 

     “I’m asking you what you want,” Cassidy said sternly. Hanzo had to admit, the Cowboy was more than adept at conversational influence. Most people would have taken the bait and talked themselves in circles. Their time together alerted the cowboy to Hanzo’s manipulative patterns and veils. Cassidy never let Hanzo retreat into himself. He held him accountable to vulnerability. 

     Hanzo paused. He was looking at the ceiling now too; both of them lying side by side, staring at everything and nothing in particular. Their naked bodies synced up in subconscious rhythmic breathing, in a room smelling of masculinity and reckless abandon. “I…do not know….” The words tasted foreign on Hanzo’s lips, but there was a relief that came in the confession. His entire body relaxed. 

     “Yeah…that’s fair,” Cassidy admitted. He rolled over, hovering just over Hanzo for a moment to reach over him. It was an action even more intimate than the deed they just committed, the way he let Cassidy invade his personal space. The cowboy pulled a cigar from his bedside table. “You mind?” 

     “Go ahead,” Hanzo said. Cassidy laid back down, lighting his cigar and taking a puff. The smoke smelled of spice and withered library books. It tickled Hanzo’s nose. He turned the question back to Cassidy. “And what do you want?” 

     Cassidy was quiet for a long time. He took another draw from his cigar and exhaled. Then he lifted his arm up to rest the back of his head on his palm as they laid together. He moved the cigar to one side of his mouth so he could speak. “...I’m old, Han.” 

     “I am older,” Hanzo reminded him. 

     “Then you know as well as I do that this Overwatch thing is fun for now, but we’ve only got a few more good years of it before our bodies decide enough is enough. We ain’t all super-soldiers. And besides, it’s about time I start to enjoy the quiet parts of life. I’ve done enough of the thrills and excitement. Time for me to get on some of that ‘empty-mind’ stuff, like your brother.” 

     “The thought of you meditating is humorous,” Hanzo snarked sardonically. Cassidy chuckled. 

     “Don’t judge a book by its cover. You might be surprised what I’m into,” Cassidy said. 

     “I confess; you have surprised me in more ways than one,” Hanzo admitted. Cassidy turned his head to look at him. 

     “I’d like to keep you guessing for a while, if you’d let me,” Cassidy drawled. Hanzo felt his heart thump forcefully in his chest. He kept himself still, just looking into Cassidy’s eyes and spiritually swimming in the colors that only he could see. He maintained eye contact and then reached over, pulling the Cigar from Cassidy’s mouth. The cowboy arched an eyebrow. Hanzo took a pull and blew it out, and Cassidy smirked the stupid way that all men smirk.

     There was another moment of prolonged silence between them, but Hanzo broke the mold. “Can you give me time?” He gave the cigar back to Cassidy, who took a pull. The cowboy lifted his right knee up into the air, sprawled out in maximum comfort. The bed was too small for both men to have their own space, but they didn’t want it. There was something comforting about the way their skin touched like this.

     “I can give you time. But I need an answer, one way or the other,” Cassidy said. Hanzo nodded and closed his eyes. His heart was warmed, but his mind was clouded and burdened. He hadn’t actually thought about any of this before. No part of him ever anticipated he would be having a conversation like this with a man, and much less a man like Cole Cassidy who was as revolting as could be on paper, but then everything he needed in person. “You can sleep here tonight, if you like.”

     He liked. But he wouldn’t. Hanzo sat up. “I shall take my leave, while the hour is indecent,” Hanzo said, and Cassidy chuckled. Hanzo turned to look at him, wordlessly asking what he found funny? Cassidy seemed to read his mind. 

     “You’re the only one who cares, Han. But have it your way,” Cassidy drawled, looking over at Hanzo with a lazy mocking smirk. Hanzo rolled his eyes freely and stood up from the bed. He dressed slowly, feeling Cassidy’s eyes on him as he bent over to put on his underwear and pants. The cowboy didn’t bother to move. Hanzo knew that Cassidy slept naked regardless of the night’s events. 

     Once Hanzo was fully dressed, he walked over to the door. Cassidy was watching him but he didn’t bother to look back. He needed to get out of the cowboy’s miasma of musk and give himself time to overthink this. The hatchet door parted and he stepped out of the low-lit den of iniquity and into the militant fluorescent lights. He rolled his shoulders back and marched on as if nothing happened at all. 

     He lost himself in the question of if he could ever see himself together with Cole Cassidy, while taking the turn to his bedroom. The thought weighed heavily on him, but not heavy enough to distract him from the tremors on the ground that came from Winston’s steps. The gorilla was walking in his direction, but in appearance he intended to pass him. He was reading a document with one hand, while walking with the other three. Hanzo gave him space.

     Winston only snapped out of his reading once Hanzo was fully in his periphery. He blinked and smiled. “Hanzo! Good evening. You’re up rather late. Is everything alright?” 

     “I retire to my room now,” Hanzo said, wanting to avoid a pointless conversation. But then he saw Winston’s eyes dilate in a moment of sudden rapid comprehension. Winston averted his gaze.

     “Er…right! Well…have a nice night!” Winston said nervously as he continued on. He buried his face back into his document and continued walking. Hanzo casted a wary glance over his shoulder, but then proceeded to his room. Once he was in his haven, he took his clothes back off, and took the time to clean himself at his sink with a damp cloth.  

     He looked himself in the mirror, staring deep into his own eyes. He had a wordless conversation with himself in his mind, asking endless questions and receiving no answers. The truth was that being with Cassidy felt unnatural, but only because it was so effortless. So easy. Nothing worth having was ever supposed to be easy. He had fought tooth and nail for each of his victories. 

     When he tired of tormenting himself, he changed into his sleepwear, and moved into his bed. His head hit the pillow, and the mattress cradled him in the intimate way that only one’s own bed can. Fortunately for him, the night’s events with Cassidy were rigorous. Sleep would find him quickly, and he would not resist its invitation. 

******

     “Cheers!” Tracer said, smiling and giggling. They hadn’t had a moment to fully interact with each other yet, and Hanzo had no intention of changing that. Tracer was frequently on leave from the gibraltar, as her unique ability to fast-forward and rewind herself through time made her outrageously indispensable. Personally, she was a little too chipper for his tastes, but today her exaggerated tone was even more grating to his ear. There was something in her voice that sounded like a taunt. He ignored it. 

     “Greetings.” She did him the courtesy of removing herself from the communal space as he cooked a tasty personal helping of yakisoba . He let his dish finish cooking as he began washing the dishes he used. But then Zarya came around, making her way to the blender. She smirked. 

     “Hanzo,” she said, her voice dripping with that same insinuation that Tracer’s did. Her eyes leered knowingly, before she went back to making her protein shake. There was no mistaking this one. Something was going on.

     “...Good Morning…” Hanzo said warily, his eyes narrowing. He couldn’t unhear it now. Zarya just smirked as she pressed the button to grind her ingredients together into a drinkable blend. Hanzo redirected his focus back to the dishes in the sink, scrubbing them clean and then putting them back where he found them. He took his bowl and then walked away, clearing the kitchen to go back to his room and eat. 

     But in the hallway, the more agents and staff he passed, the more he was certain that something was being said about him. The mysterious looks, the clandestine whispers, and the pointed gazes were all too obvious. It irritated him in a way that made him feel small, like a child again. He quickened his pace back to his room, but stopped when he saw the last person he wanted to see in this moment standing outside of his door, and knocking. 

     “Genji?” Hanzo asked. Genji turned to face him. They both stood there staring at one another, each brother waiting for the other to make a move. Hanzo narrowed his eyes once again, squinting at Genji. Genji crossed his arms and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Whatever was going on, Genji knew something about it. He always shifted his weight when he had something he was nervous to say. It was his tell. 

     “...Brother…we need to talk…” Genji said. Hanzo swallowed and then walked forward. He opened the door to his room and left it open for Genji to follow him. Once they were both inside, the hatchet closed behind them, sealing them in privacy. Hanzo looked at Genji, setting his lunch aside as he waited for his brother to speak. Genji did him the courtesy of removing his visor, and Hanzo looked into his eyes, rather than observing the scars he inflicted on his brother’s face. 

     “What is it?” Hanzo asked. Genji shifted again. It was the same way that he would shift whenever he had to report that he had bungled another of their missions. He’d done it when he was a child with their parents, and now he was doing it with Hanzo as an adult. Hanzo fought back the urge to hold him still forcibly.

     “I heard from Angela….who heard from Tracer…who heard from Winston that…” Genji said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. Hanzo just waited for him to continue. His brother sighed, clearly struggling to find his words. Hanzo squinted, losing patience for Genji’s antics. “You and…Cole?” 

     Hanzo blinked. He heard glass shattering from inside his mind as his breathing hitched. He froze and his eyes dilated. Then the embarrassment hit him in a horrendous aftershock. Nervous anxiety washed down his chest in an internal waterfall of panic. He swallowed and averted his gaze. 

     The two of them had never shared a more uncomfortable silence. Not since they’d broken one of their father’s antiques in a spar and tried to cover it with a fake. Hanzo’s mind raced with different things to say - different ideas and suggestions to get himself out of this misery. Instead, he thought again about what Genji said; Angela heard from Tracer who heard from Winston. Hanzo came to a sickening conclusion.“The Gorilla must have smelled the cigar smoke,” Hanzo said, his eyes closing in utter humiliation. 

     “From what I heard, he smelled more than just cigar smoke. It is your secret until Winston knows,” Genji said softly.  

     “...Once Winston knows, everyone knows…Morrison told me the very same,” Hanzo said. He felt utterly defeated and helpless. He hadn’t accounted for the lingering scent in opposition to Winston's animal senses. Hanzo took a deep breath in through his nostrils, his irritation washing over him in a transparent way. 

     “You do not deny it… So it is true…?” Genji asked. Hanzo wanted to shrivel up and die right there on the spot. “You are…queer now?”

     “I am not,” Hanzo growled sharply. Genji didn’t budge. 

     “You slept with a man, brother,” Genji countered, crossing his arms. 

     “That does not-” Hanzo began, but then his training kicked in. Rather than elaborating, he needed to stick to the questions he was being asked. Yes or no. Nothing more; nothing less. “It has happened, yes.” 

     Now they were both shifting and adjusting uncomfortably. Hanzo pushed back the sleeves of his sweater. Genji shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. There was more that needed to be said, but Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to speak any further. Instead he just sat in the silence. It took a few minutes, but then Genji dug them out. “Angela has asked me to have the two of you join us for dinner.” 

      Hanzo flinched in disgust. “I decline.” 

     “Brother, please do not be difficult about this,” Genji said, already exhausted with Hanzo. 

     “You overstep. We are not a couple. Whatever rumors you have heard are not true. I shall have words with Winston and demand satisfaction,” Hanzo growled. His eyes narrowed as he prepared to go on the offensive. 

     “Do not-” Genji cut him off, and Hanzo turned to face him with fury. Genji stilled himself. “You are right. This is none of my business. I will inform Angela of your response,” Genji said, turning to the door. Hanzo thought to stop him, but the truth was that he wanted to be alone right now. He listened as Genji left his room and walked down the hall. He stuck his chopsticks into his bowl to gather a bite of yakisoba, but his chest fell. Instead he sighed and removed the chopsticks. His appetite was gone. 

***

FLASHBACK 

     Today was the day. All of the pieces were in their proper places. His father was away on a business trip and his mother was stabilized in her chambers. Most importantly, Genji was grounded and under surveillance until his homework was completed and approved by his private tutor. This meant that Hanzo had unmitigated access to the car, freedom to wield the totality of his allowance, and the autonomy to do as he pleased. Today would be the day that he told Yuka how he felt. 

    The omnic driver took him to her father’s house, and he texted her to let her know he was outside waiting. She came out quickly, wearing a comfortable oversized jacket and a nice dress that flowed with her steps. She waived and the omnic stepped out to open the back door for her. She thanked him and he bowed his head to her, letting her in and then closing the door behind her. 

    <<Hi! Thanks for picking me up!>> Yuka said in Japanese. Hanzo nodded back to her. 

    <<Of course, it’s no trouble at all.>> He watched as she put on her seatbelt, clicking it into place. Then he realized he was looking at her for too long and redirected his focus forward. Yuka settled into place and turned to face him with a smile. 

    <<So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?>> She asked teasingly, knowing he would say no. She had been pestering him about it ever since he said he was going to take her out. He narrowed his eyes in frustration. 

    <<You will ruin the surprise,>> Hanzo said sternly, crossing his arms. She giggled and he looked away, a little embarrassed at his own over-reaction. She and Genji both always made fun of him for being too uptight. Everyone made fun of him for being too uptight. A soft blush threatened his cheeks. He willed it away. 

    <<Okay, okay. But can you at least tell me if there will be food? I’m starving,>> Yuka asked sheepishly. Hanzo tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t stop himself. He shook his head. On the outside, Yuka was as dainty and darling as a Korean idol. But her appearance disguised the ravenous gremlin she actually was, once you got to know her. 

   <<You’ll never change, will you?>> Hanzo mocked. Yuka smiled wider. 

   <<Would you want me to?>> Yuka asked, and Hanzo flinched. 

   <<N-no...>> Hanzo said, that same blush threatening his cheeks again. He crossed his toes and thought disgusting thoughts to keep the butterflies from crawling out of his throat and choking him to death in awkward embarrassment. In his youth his biggest concern was an unanticipated attack from the Hashimoto, or a poor grade on his report card. But his teenage years had already heaved on more embarrassment than a heart should ever endure. He was happy to be leaving them soon. 

   <<Good! That makes two of us,>> Yuka said, smiling and looking out of her window. She took in the sights of the streets as they widened, leaving her neighborhood to merge onto the highway. He took in the sight of her. <<Is Genji still grounded?>> 

   <<You concern yourself too much with him. It is his own fault. If he paid more attention to his studies, then maybe he’d enjoy some of the freedoms that we do,>> Hanzo said tersely. It was rare that Genji was ever held to any sort of standard. He resented everyone for it. 

   <<Are you feeling alright?>> Yuka asked. 

   <<I’m fine,>> Hanzo growled stiffly. Yuka recoiled. 

    <<...Okay then…>> Yuka said, making a face and then looking back out her own window. Hanzo took the time to really look at her. She was beautiful, even now with her hair in the simplest of braids. Her skin was smooth and sunkissed from her travels, and her round eyes caught the light whenever she smiled. When they first met she was nearly as rough and tumble as he and Genji were. But now that she was older, she was lithe and graceful. 

    She was everything he wanted. There was something in her laugh that made him want to laugh. When her eyebrows knotted with worry, he made it his mission to chase away whatever was bothering her. Yuka had been the object of his affection for years now, but he was too frightened to tell her the truth, lest he lose his best and only friend. He and Genji were home-schooled. It was hard to make friends. 

    Hanzo didn’t realize he was staring at her for too long, until she turned to look at him, and then he looked away. He was trying to think of things to say to fill the silence of the car ride, but nothing came to mind. <<Have you been listening to any new music?>> He asked, hoping to make their time together less awkward. 

    <<My friends from America have been sending me a few new tracks here or there, but lately I’ve been hooked on K-pop. What about you?>> Yuka asked, smiling again. 

   <<I’ve been listening to a few new artists here and there. Do you mind if I play a song?>> Hanzo asked. 

   <<Please go ahead,>> Yuka said. Hanzo synced his phone with the car’s bluetooth. He pressed play, and the song came over the speakers. Yuka listened for a bit and then smiled. << Oh, I love his voice!>>

     Hanzo nodded in agreement. <<He is Vietnamese-American. He sings like a few of the artists that you sent me. I thought you might like him,>> Hanzo said. The smile she gave him was more fatal than anything he’d faced thus far. 

     <<You were right. Can you send this to me?>> Yuka asked. Hanzo nodded and sent her the song via text. She smiled and they rode together, listening to the rest of his album and making light conversation. The omnic driver took them on a scenic path, as the sun slowly made its way overhead in pursuit of the shoreline. The spring afternoon was fading to evening as the car pulled into a large open park. 

     Yuka leaned forward in her seat while looking out. She smiled open-mouthed, seeing that the cherry blossoms were in bloom. Hanzo puffed his chest out, proud that he was able to coax this reaction from her; hopefully the first of many. She looked back at him, and he nodded. The omnic driver put the car in park and opened the trunk for Hanzo. He reached in, grabbing a blanket and a picnic basket. Yuka covered her mouth in astonishment. 

     <<This was the surprise. Are you pleased?>> He asked, and she nodded eagerly. He smiled back at her. <<Good. There’s a good spot over here. Follow me,>> Hanzo said, carrying the basket and the blanket. They walked to an isolated clearing, where the sun wouldn’t blind the world around them. The sky shifted from a soft blend of blue and purple, down into orange and then yellow, bathing everything in soft pastels. 

     He laid the blanket out on the ground, spreading it evenly and putting weights on the corners to prevent it from lifting with the breeze. Then he took off his shoes and stepped onto the blanket, lowering down to his knees with the picnic basket. The house chefs had prepared quality sashimi and he set aside a little cooler that he’d prepacked with her favorite rolled ice cream. He used his phone to play the playlist that he’d put together of all her favorite songs, and the songs that they’d shared with one another. Then he put down the plates for them, before setting up a little stand of the sushi for them to share. 

     <<You did all of this?>> Yuka asked, looking up at Hanzo in wonder. Hanzo couldn’t fight the blush this time. He nodded. 

     <<I wanted to do something special. We never really get the opportunity to do things on our own,>> Hanzo said. He rocked back to sit on his knees, and put his hands together. Yuka joined him in ceremony, before pinching a roll between the tips of her chopsticks and taking a bite. <<Is it to your liking?>> Hanzo asked, waiting for her to eat first.  

     <<It’s so good,>> Yuka gushed. Hanzo laughed quietly and took a bite for himself. Yuka wore her emotions on her face, because she had nothing to hide. But that also meant she was both the best and worst critic, because her enthusiasm - or lack thereof - was blatant. Once he found out, he made it a point to learn to cook in his spare time. If she would become his wife one day, then he would do well to be able to make her favorite meals should the need arise. 

     <<I am glad,>> Hanzo said. He nodded, tasting the sashimi and looking around at the scenery. The soft pink cherry blossoms shimmied back and forth in the gentle breeze. The smell of the pond water softened the aroma of evergreen grass and dirt. There were couples and families walking around, taking in the sights of the trees and speaking jovially with one another. 

     It was perfect. So perfect that Hanzo knew that if he delayed a moment longer, he would regret it eternally. He choked down the next piece of sashimi, summoning his courage as Yuka looked around. Then a dark thought crossed his mind, and he glanced over to Yuka’s wrist to see if she had a name in place and hadn’t told him. They swore to each other that they would share as soon as it happened. But he hadn’t gotten his. 

     Apparently she hadn’t gotten hers either, as it appeared to be blank still beneath her jacket sleeve. He wondered if she covered it with makeup as many women tended to do, but if so he would not be at fault for proceeding as intended. He gathered one more piece of sashimi onto his plate, promising himself this would be the last one before he spoke. He bit into it, chewing it thoughtfully before swallowing it down and clearing his throat. 

    <<Yuka?>> 

    <<Hm?>> She asked, turning to give Hanzo her full attention. He set his plate and chopsticks aside and averted his gaze. He had rehearsed it several times. 

    <<I know that you and I have been friends for years. And it has brought me happiness that I cannot even begin to explain. You have welcomed me into your life just as I have welcomed you into mine. And there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since that I haven’t been thankful for that,>> Hanzo said and Yuka smiled wider. He moved to continue, but the music that played in the background was cut-off by his ringtone. They both looked down at the phone. 

    It was Genji . Hanzo snarled with frustration and quickly snatched the phone from the ground. He hung up the phone, and then went through his settings to turn off the service, so that only the music would play. He looked back at Yuka nervously and bowed his head. <<Forgive me.>>

    <<Hanzo, it’s alright! There’s nothing to forgi->> Yuka began, but now her phone was ringing. Her face was nervous as she pulled it out of her jacket pocket. It was Genji . Yuka blinked cautiously, looking from the caller ID to Hanzo across from her. <<Do you think something is wrong?>> She asked. 

    <<He is fine . Do not answer. Please,>> Hanzo said softly, and Yuka nodded. She turned off her phone and put it away in her pocket, giving him her undivided attention. <<Thank you,>> Hanzo said, finding his courage all over again. <<Anyway, well…what I am trying to say is…>> 

    <<Young master?>> The omnic driver approached them, and Hanzo reeled with draconic fury. This was his last straw. He was red with rage and he clenched his fists tight enough to form veins. 

    <<I told you I was not to be disturbed! What is it?>> Hanzo snapped, but then calmed when he saw Yuka flinch. The omnic driver remained unmoved. 

    <<...It is your mother…>> the Omnic said. And then he said words too foul to be written or repeated. Hanzo felt everything inside of him go cold. His heart stopped. His blood stilled. His eyes unfocused and then refocused again as he clutched clumsily for the ground. Yuka looked at the driver and then to him. The tears were already in her eyes as the color drained from his face. 

     Hanzo grabbed his phone and turned it back on. Genji was already calling again. He answered this time. <<Genji?>> Hanzo asked.  All he could hear were the strangled sobs of his brother into the speaker. His own eyes watered contagiously and he listened to the words that shattered the bindings of his heart and robbed the breath from his lungs. 

     <<Mom is dead. She’s….she’s dead…>> Genji cried, the tears drenching his voice. Hanzo’s eyes lost focus again. His body felt weightless in a nauseous sickening way. The ground beneath him crumbled as he plummeted within himself. What was once a pastel of the sky’s wonder, became an endless sea of vomit against flowers too fickle for their fame. 

     It was hideous. 

****

PRESENT DAY 

     Mercy was a nuisance. Regardless of Hanzo’s denial of her request for a joint outing, she went around both him and Genji and asked Cassidy herself. Cassidy betrayed Hanzo entirely and agreed on his behalf, which he only informed him of the evening before, and it was curiously only after he did that thing with his tongue that Hanzo really liked. A thing that he used to coax Hanzo into tolerating the night’s frivolity, with the promise of doing it again afterward. 

    The four of them sat together in a low-lit pub at a tough leather booth. They looked over the selections for beer and liquor, and Mercy ordered tapas for the table. Hanzo waited for the others to eat before taking one for himself, still uncertain of how he should behave in this moment. It would have honestly been an enjoyable night, were it not for the unspoken tension between himself and his brother. That, and his absolute refusal to admit to this being a double date. 

     Fortunately for the brothers, Cassidy and Mercy had no problems discussing amongst themselves and filling the silence. “How’d you find this place, Doc?” Cassidy asked, helping himself to one of the tapas covered in pork and chili peppers. He bit into it with an indecent crunch, and his eyes widened with a nod. 

    “Fareeha found it actually! She said a friend of hers from Helix recommended it. We went together when she first joined the team, and I’ve been looking for an excuse to come back ever since,” Mercy said, and Hanzo instinctively looked to gauge Genji’s reaction at the mention of Mercy hanging out with Pharah. His younger brother’s eyebrow arched and his nostrils flared in jealousy. It was all Hanzo could do not to smirk. 

     “Well listen if you ever need an accomplice in bad decisions, I’m a call away. These ain’t half bad,” Cassidy drawled, taking another bite. The others began to help themselves as their drinks came to the table. Mercy took note of the bluetooth jukebox in the corner, and synced her phone to it. She played her music with a smile. 

     “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said with a laugh before digging in.

     “Has anyone noticed how slow things have been at base?” Genji asked. Mercy and Hanzo both nodded.  

     “It’s great, isn’t it?” Cassidy replied, and Hanzo rolled his eyes with a headshake. Mercy tried to fight back a snicker, but it slipped out regardless. Genji smiled too. “What? Nothing wrong with a little downtime. Y’all gotta learn to take the good with the bad,” Cassidy continued. 

     “I have to agree. Any day that I’m not operating on one of you is a good day, in my professional opinion,” Mercy said, pursing her lips. All three men winced. She only laughed. “It is what I’m here for, don’t worry. I just wish we didn’t always have to resort to violence.” 

     “Aw come on. I’ve seen you with that pistol. You can’t tell me you don’t get a little bit of a thrill when you get to use it,” Cassidy teased, and Mercy scoffed. “Come on now Doc, tell the truth.” 

     “Absolutely not! It is barbaric and unnecessary. I only carry in self defense, and thankfully Winston knows that. I have to say I was a little apprehensive about joining him in the beginning, but working with Winston as opposed to Commander Morrison has been staggeringly different,” Mercy said. Genji and Cassidy both nodded, and now Hanzo felt inclined to actually pay attention to this otherwise meaningless conversation. 

     “That’s true. Though to be fair we can’t give Winston all the credit. There’s fewer hands in the pot now with the Petras act in effect. With less executives to answer to, we can just cut right down to the heart of the problem. But I tend to agree, the monkey’s the right one for the job. He’s got a good head on his shoulders,” Cassidy said. 

     “It’s the difference in motive that makes me believe in Winston’s direction. I love Jack as I’m sure you both know, but I worry about the way he’s constantly looking for another war to win. It’s like he doesn’t know how to be anything but a soldier. With Winston in charge, there are fewer missions because he researches the issues at hand from all angles possible, and only deploys us when absolutely necessary. Jack preferred a more militant approach,” Mercy said, and Genji seemed to agree. Hanzo kept his eyes down, and just listened, gingerly eating a tapa.

     “You could say the same about all of’em though really. I mean we were together when we found out Ana died. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Come to find out, she’d been running around Cairo in the shadows looking into Talon. And Reinhardt ain’t no better,” Cassidy said, and Mercy let out an exasperated groan. 

     “Reinhardt has no business being out here at his age. He should be well into his retirement! He’s not like the others who’ve had bionic enhancement you know. But does he listen?” Mercy vented. Hanzo felt a twinge of pity wriggle inside of him. He snuffed it out. 

     “And little Lindholm’s just like him. Hanging on his every word,” Cassidy snickered and Mercy raked a finger through her hair, demonstrating her stress. 

     “I’m trying to sway a little of Reinhardt’s influence out of her, now that she’s working under me to learn medicine. I will say I was apprehensive at first, but she’s proving herself to be quite the combat medic. We just have to work on getting her to slow down a bit. She’s too eager to prove herself, and she’s going to wind up making mistakes because of it,” Mercy said, thinking out loud. 

     “Sometimes mistakes are the best teachers,” Cassidy countered, putting an arm up on the back of the booth. Hanzo shifted away to give him space. 

     “...Speaking of mistakes…” Mercy began, and all eyes turned to her. She kept her eyes on Cassidy. “I was contacted by a colleague and asked to give a seminar on nano-biology at the Oasis institute in Iraq.” 

     “Oasis…is that the city of scientists?” Cassidy asked, and Mercy nodded. 

     “The very same. I considered the offer, but then I did some digging into the staff. And you’ll never guess who I discovered to be the acting minister of genetics,” Mercy said with an irritated sardonicism. 

     “Oh. You found Moira, hunh?” Cassidy guessed. Hanzo noticed the way Cassidy’s hand clenched around his glass, and Genji’s lips tightened into a thin crease. Whoever this woman was, she had certainly left her mark, and none of these three went unscathed.

     “Needless to say I kindly declined the invitation, but I did find some of her latest journals and thesis papers published on the net. It seems she’s still continuing her work on cellular regeneration and decay. And more recently she has been observing accounts of pain from her subjects that have to be accounted for,” Mercy said. Cassidy was doing his best to look uninterested, but Hanzo could tell he was hanging on her every word. 

     “Did she have other experiments, beyond Commander Reyes?” Genji asked. 

     “Reyes would have been a fool to submit to her experimentation without seeing results on others before himself. I’m sure she has other subjects, but I recalled him complaining of an after-effect from using his abilities too often,” Mercy said with a sigh. 

     “You think he’s still around, then?” Cassidy asked, playing dumb. Hanzo knew full well that Cassidy had only rejoined Overwatch under the guise of finding Gabriel Reyes, and that he knew enough to know that he was around. This was about seeing what Mercy knew.  

     “I don’t have anything conclusive,” Mercy said. Hanzo analyzed her body language to verify her statement. From what he could tell, she appeared to be putting up a wall. She knew more, but she must have understood how dangerous it would be to tell Cassidy anything about Reyes. Hanzo wondered if perhaps Ana and Winston had a conversation with her, like they had with him. 

    “You are looking for him?” Genji asked, turning his attention to Cassidy. Cassidy shrugged and took another drink. 

    “Jack’s around. Ana’s around. I’m starting to think nobody really died. Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised to see Gérard Lacroix pop back out at this point,” Cassidy drawled sarcastically. 

    “That would be my last straw,” Mercy warned. But Genji hadn’t been swayed from his original question. 

    “If you are looking for him, I will help you,” Genji offered. That caught Mercy and Hanzo’s attention. Cassidy mentioned that he and Genji had been assigned to Blackwatch together under Reyes’ command. But Hanzo hadn’t heard any of Genji’s perspectives on the matter. This was largely because he and Genji didn’t talk that often. Cassidy smirked. 

    “It ain’t so much about looking for him as it is morbid curiosity. But I appreciate the offer all the same. Reyes made his own choices. He can take care of himself,” Cassidy drawled. All half-truths. All deflections from Genji’s inquiry. Hanzo took a careful sip of his drink, noting Cassidy’s caliber of candor. 

    The conversation dropped back down into silence as they all took bites of tapas. Hanzo shot a hesitant glance over to Cassidy, but then looked back down at his plate. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mercy softly elbow Genji. He pretended not to notice as Genji spoke. 

    “How do you find your drink, brother?” Genji asked, not at all cajoled into being cordial.

    “It is satisfactory,” Hanzo said, his gaze turning back down to the glass. 

    “You should try the Sadō . The flavor will be to your liking,” Genji recommended. Hanzo turned to the kiosk and ordered a round for all of them. The omnic server brought the beverages on a tray and served them to the group. Hanzo took a sip. Genji wasn’t wrong.

    “It is better. Thank you,” Hanzo said. Genji nodded at him and Mercy smiled. Hanzo deduced that this was her plan all along, which confirmed several of his suspicions. He was annoyed, but also relieved to find himself in this situation across from his brother. Even if Mercy’s meddling was undesired, he needed to thank her for it all the same. 

    The music from the jukebox shifted and Mercy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I love this song!”

    “You know the dance?” Cassidy asked with a smirk. Mercy’s already bulging eyes only widened. Any wider, and Hanzo feared they would fall right off and onto the table. 

    “There’s a dance?” 

    “It’s a line dance. Come on, I’ll teach it to you,” Cassidy said, sliding out of the booth. Mercy eagerly followed him out to the open pub floor. She stood to Cassidy’s left, mimicking the pattern of  his steps as he explained it to her. The cowboy had an instructive knack for finding the rhythm that made it easy for her to catch onto. In time they were both moving in independent unison. 

    Hanzo’s eyes flicked to Genji who watched the two of them from their booth. He looked at Genji’s eyes, and how they lingered on Mercy with unapologetic devotion. It was something Hanzo never imagined he would see. Genji had no shortage of company from the opposite sex, but they always seemed expendable from Hanzo’s point of view. He watched his brother change them out like socks. But now he saw Genji looking at Mercy the same way that his father used to look at his mother. 

    Hanzo looked out as well, but his eyes instead fell on Cassidy. The way his shoulders telegraphed where he would step to next. The way he hooked his thumbs on the inside of his belt or kept them hitched in the fold of his pocket. Cassidy was both an old man and a young boy at the exact same time, dancing without a care in the world. Hanzo wondered just for a moment what that would be like. 

    <<...What do you think of him?>> Hanzo asked in Japanese. Genji turned, snapping out of his trance. 

    <<Of Cole?>> Genji asked. Hanzo nodded. Genji looked down thoughtfully, and then met Hanzo’s gaze once more. <<When I first met him, he annoyed me to no end. But I didn’t realize how far I had drifted from myself, and how consumed I was by my own anger and sorrow. It was an adjustment for me, this…>> Genji said, showing his cybernetic parts, and Hanzo’s entire body clinched with guilt at his brother’s admission. <<But Cole was the only one who didn’t treat me as though I were suddenly made of glass. He gave me a sense of needed normality.>> 

    Hanzo swallowed. He knew they needed to have this conversation, but it didn’t feel right at this pub with a table full of tapas and thumping music in the background. He opened his mouth to say something at least, but Genji continued. <<He became the brother I needed, when I thought I’d lost the brother I had. And for that I will always care for him. I admit it is strange for me to see you with a man but…you couldn’t have picked better.>>

    Genji’s words hit Hanzo like a tidal wave. He felt his spirit rock from the impact and then bathed in the chill of their after-effect. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Instead he just looked out at them again as they danced. He watched them sway from side to side, stepping to the rhythm and laughing together as the few others in the pub slowly but surely joined in. He watched them until the song ended, and the two of them came back to the booth. 

    “That was wonderful,” Mercy giggled. Cassidy smirked and nodded at her. 

    “You’re not half bad, Doc. You picked up on those steps pretty quick,” Cassidy praised, and Mercy just laughed, playfully slapping his arm. Then the song changed and Cassidy staggered. He looked up and around, searching for something in awe.

    “Something wrong?” Hanzo asked. Cassidy shook his head. 

    “I love this song…” Cassidy confessed sheepishly. He sighed and ducked back down into the booth. Now that Cassidy and Mercy had broken the mold, other couples began to take to the floor, slowly swaying back and forth in each other’s arms. Cassidy just put his arm on the back of the booth and took another bite of tapa. 

    “Dance with him,” Genji said, and all eyes snapped to Genji. Genji fixed his gaze on Hanzo. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed.

    “I decline,” Hanzo said sharply. 

    “Dance with him,” Genji repeated just as sharply. “Or admit that you are a coward and always have been.” Hanzo shook his head. 

    “Your childish antics are as ineffective as ever. I will not be so easily manipulated into doing your bidding,” Hanzo chided. 

    “What do you see in him? He has always been like this,” Genji said, turning to Cassidy who snickered. Mercy admonished him. Hanzo glared. 

    “Careful Genji. You are not the only one with recollections of the past,” Hanzo warned, and Mercy’s eyes glimmered with mischief. 

    “Do tell!” Mercy said, sliding into her seat, but Genji urged her back out. He slid out of the booth and took her hand. She smiled, touching his arm with her free hand, no longer tempted by the sinister appeal of embarrassing anecdotes. 

    “That will have to wait for another time. My brother may waste this song if he wishes. I have no such intention,” Genji said, leading Mercy back out to the open floor. Hanzo turned his attention back to the table. There were more tapas, but he wasn’t hungry anymore. His appetite had given way to something else entirely. He sighed. 

    “Did you bring your cigar?” Hanzo asked. Cassidy's eyebrows wiggled. He wasn’t sure he heard Hanzo correctly.

    “Never leave the house without one. That last one got you hooked, didn’t it?” Cassidy teased. 

    “In more ways than one,” Hanzo replied bitterly. Cassidy winced.

    “...Yeah…sorry about all that. Didn’t mean for it to go down this way,” Cassidy said, putting his arm down and turning to face Hanzo in full. He looked Hanzo in the eye with hazel concern and comfort. Hanzo reflexively relaxed. 

    “Can we step outside?” Hanzo asked. 

    “Yeah, come on,” Cassidy said, putting a napkin on the top of his glass to let the bartender know that he would be back. Hanzo did the same, and then slid out of the booth after Cassidy, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles as they walked out of the pub. Cassidy led them just to the side of the door, before lighting up his cigar. He took a puff and then blew it out, offering the cigar to Hanzo. 

    Hanzo took a pull as well, letting the taste mingle with the remnant of green tea beer. The clash was staggering, but surprisingly not unpleasant. He held the flavor in his mouth before gently blowing out the smoke. He offered it back to Cassidy, taking in the way that the streetlights cast the shadows down from below his wide brimmed hat. The ambience made him look haunted and heavily weighed upon. It was interesting the way the night revealed the truth. 

    The truth was that Cassidy had changed his life entirely. He was the first thing that Hanzo thought of in the morning, and the last thing that lingered in his mind as he went to sleep. He was annoying, and pushy, and entirely tactless. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, and thought with the expressions on his face. He was a fool, that would certainly lead him to an early grave if Hanzo were foolish enough to follow. And Hanzo didn’t follow anyone. 

    Cassidy took another pull, but as he flicked off the excess, Hanzo stepped in. He rested a hand on Cassidy’s shoulder, and then reached out to take the other. Cassidy’s eyes widened in curiosity. 

    “...I am not afraid of anything. Not of cigars. Not of dancing. Not of Overwatch. Not of my brother,” Hanzo said, gently swaying them from side to side. Cassidy smiled the stupid way that all men smile, as he looked into Hanzo’s eyes, swaying with him. 

    “Not even me?” He challenged. Hanzo scowled. 

    “Especially not you,” Hanzo said. Cassidy snickered through his nose, putting his cigar in his mouth, so that his hand could rest on Hanzo’s back, pulling him closer. Cassidy widened his stance, gently pushing against Hanzo’s frame to steer them in a slow circle. Hanzo followed.  

    “Well good, I’m glad. Sometimes I come on a little rough, but I promise I ain’t gone hurt ya,” Cassidy said. Hanzo leaned in, his eyes lingering on Cassidy’s lips for the moment as they slowly turned about in each other’s arms. 

    “...See that you don’t.” Hanzo said, and Cassidy smirked with his nod. Hanzo made sure that they weren’t being watched from the window as they danced. The song from the jukebox played quietly just outside of the bar, but it was loud enough for the two of them to keep rhythm in pace. The streets were empty other than parked cars and inner city fauna. For the moment, the two of them were entirely alone. So Hanzo gave himself permission to do something he desperately wanted to do. 

    He rested his head on Cassidy’s shoulder, and closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

     Solitude was a thing of the past. Hanzo didn’t realize what happened when he danced with Cassidy that night beneath the streetlights. He thought the moment was an innocent act of romance that would be incredibly cinematic when some upstart decided to make a biopic of his life. But apparently he had signed away his privacy in some dark deal with a demonic spirit, because the once lone cowboy had been attached to his side ever since. Cassidy orbited around him at all times, even if he wasn’t doing anything. Which made it impossible for him to not do anything. 

     He was annoyed. The Gibraltar was miles long, and large enough to house an entire army, but Cassidy insisted on breathing the same recycled air that he was breathing. When he was making his morning tea, Cassidy would pour himself a cup and disgrace it with enough sugar to tranquilize a tiger. When he went to the shooting range, suddenly Cassidy would be at the line next to him trying to start another contest. Were it only a few weeks ago, he knew that he would have taken the cowboy to task about the importance of personal space. It’s just that now all of a sudden, he wanted to breathe Cassidy’s air too. 

     He could smell Cassidy’s shampoo and the remnants of cigar smoke on the case of the spare pillow that he kept in the room. So that was Cassidy’s pillow whenever he slept over, which was nearly every night.  He had always been meticulous about his bedroom, leaving everything in its rightful place, so that he could tell if someone had been in there without his permission. But Cassidy could simply walk in a straight line through his room, and somehow everything would be in complete disarray, without even trying. The forces of chaos followed him.  

     He was annoyed . But he was mostly annoyed because he wasn’t annoyed at all. His back had grown accustomed to the feeling of Cassidy’s warm body pressed against it. The crook of his neck longed for the sensation of Cassidy’s breath brushing against it from behind. He needed to feel Cassidy’s leg between his leg, and his arm around his torso in order to fall asleep. It was annoying how he needed Cassidy now. His independence had gone by the wayside. 

     They were on the floor together. He could have sworn that they had started a respectful distance apart, with Hanzo crafting and maintaining his arrows, and Cassidy cleaning his revolver. But then that turned into Cassidy asking for Hanzo’s help unscrewing the bindings of his mechanical arm, which somehow required Hanzo’s thighs to be resting on top of Cassidy’s. And then that turned into Cassidy laying his heavy head on Hanzo’s leg, and falling asleep while Hanzo worked, which meant that Hanzo couldn’t move. 

     And by the look on Cassidy’s face, one would think that Hanzo’s thigh was better than any memory foam pillow on the blackest market. The cowboy’s eyes were closed. His forehead was wrinkle free. His lips hung open, drooping like a freshly snared trout succumbed to its fate. Hanzo looked down at Cassidy. He smoothed back the fringe of Cassidy’s middle part with his ring finger, admiring the way that it framed his face. He didn’t even realize how long he was staring. 

     “Agent O-43: Cassidy. Your presence is requested by Agent T-41: Winston in central operations.” Hanzo jumped. The hologram projection of Athena’s screen hung brightly over their faces, casting a blue light in the reflection of their skin. He relaxed once he registered that it was just the A.I. Cassidy didn’t budge an inch. He hadn’t heard a thing. 

     “Wake up,” Hanzo said gruffly and  repeatedly tapped the center of his forehead until the annoyance provoked him to action. Cassidy shook his head, as if he were trying to avoid a pestering insect. He blinked himself awake, scrunching his face in annoyance, and easing up through an abdominal crunch until he sat upright. 

     “Hunh?” Cassidy asked. He yawned and stretched. Hanzo rolled his eyes and shook his head.

     “Agent O-43: Cassidy. Your presence is requested by Agent T-41: Winston in central operations,” The hologram projection repeated. Hanzo ignored them both and continued to work on his arrow. Cassidy’s eyes widened as he nodded. 

     “Alright, alright. I’ll be there in a minute,” Cassidy drawled. Athena blinked away, and Cassidy rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. There hadn’t been a mission in some time. Talon activity was radio silent since Doomfist’s escape from prison in Numbani, and there were no intelligence reports of Omnic uprisings, null-sector or otherwise. The days at the Gibraltar had slowed to a crawl. 

     “Let me go see what Winston’s got cooked up,” Cassidy groaned, irritated at being provoked from what otherwise would have been a marathon of REM sleep. He looked left and right, lazily getting his bearings, and then leaned over to Hanzo. He softly kissed Hanzo’s cheek, and Hanzo felt goosebumps ripple down his back. It was frightening how comfortable he felt being touched by Cassidy now. Against all odds, he managed to keep hold of his dignity and remained focused on his arrow. “I’ll be right back,” Cassidy whispered, and pushed up off of the floor.

     “Hn,” Hanzo grunted in acknowledgement. He counted Cassidy’s steps as the cowboy made his way to the hatch door of his bedroom. He heard the door open, and then he felt Cassidy’s steps clop out onto the floors of the hallway. The hatch closed behind Cassidy, and Hanzo exhaled and blinked, setting his arrow aside. His heart was thumping in his chest, and his throat dried. Cassidy had left, but rather than savor the much needed moment to himself, he stewed in restless irritation.  

     He hadn’t been this cold since the night they’d danced. 

*****

FLASHBACK 

     Religion and ceremony were things that operated in the periphery of Hanzo’s awareness. But according to tradition, funeral arrangements are made by the eldest son. It was yet another duty foisted upon him due to the circumstances of his birth. He had been training for as long as he could remember. The fragility of life was something that he understood entirely too well. But no one had prepared Hanzo for the role reversal of becoming his mother’s caretaker. Much less the host of her parting ceremony. 

     There were so many decisions to be made, and so many particulars to articulate. He had to know which families to invite, which families not to invite, and which families couldn’t be within arms distance of each other for the seating arrangement. He needed to know his mother’s favorite flowers, the meaning behind them, and which flowers to surround them with to show the prestige of her persona. He didn’t know a thing about makeup, but he needed to make sure that the artist that prepared her face captured her likeness. They went through nineteen revisions before they came to an agreement. 

     Everything was happening so quickly. A minute ago he was on a picnic blanket with Yuka, about to confess his feelings for her. Now he sat on his father’s right on his knees at his mother’s wake, surrounded by paper walls and billowing lilies of grief. They were all dressed in the darkest blacks that fabric had to offer, maintaining composure as everyone came forth to give their condolences. They bowed, presenting their offerings at the door, as expected. It was all so beautiful. So pristine.

     Hanzo did his best not to focus on how obvious the schemes of the funeral guests were. They didn’t give a damn about her when she was alive, but now that she was dead they swarmed in droves. These were people that he hadn’t seen since he was at his father’s knee, and yet he was expected to remember all of them, and know where they stood in the organizational hierarchy. But he knew that none of them truly weeped for his mother the way that he had. This was about them making their support of the Shimada known, so that they could then make plays at elevation. It was maddening. 

     He wouldn’t dishonor his mother by breaking character. He made sure to present his face as the stoic mirror of his father. Sojiro hadn’t uttered a word since the announcement of her death, but he played his role as head of the house with prestige. His eyes were ridden with grief, but not enough to indicate weakness or ill fortitude. They were just the eyes of a man who loved his wife. He kept his shoulders back and his chin forward, greeting each of the guests at the wake with a curt nod. Hanzo wondered to himself about the time, knowing that the wake would be followed by a vigil, and that he would be there for its entirety. 

     Then he heard it. Another snivel from his father’s left that made his shoulders hike in disgust. Genji had been an absolute disgrace since they’d heard the dreaded news. He wore his grief like the ceremonial robes he was forced into for this occasion. If he wasn’t crying, he was drinking. If he wasn’t drinking, he was vomiting. It had been days, but Genji hadn’t eaten anything, and Genji never went hungry. Now he was on his knees sobbing in front of everyone, and thin as a rail. Behold - one of the future heads of the Shimada clan. 

     Hanzo’s nose wrinkled with irritation. He didn’t have time for his brother’s bullshit today. But to chastise him now would only bring more scrutiny and shame onto their image. He would excel where Genji did not, as always. He fixed his expression and let loose a breath that was laced with the negative energy that he harbored. Then he greeted the next guest that bowed before him.

     From the corner of his eye, Hanzo saw the only guest that brought him relief that day. Yuka and her father stood in line at the door, presenting their offerings. Hanzo mentally noted to repay them tenfold for their generosity, being well aware of the financial strain the gesture would put on them. Yuka looked up to him as she made her way to her spot with her dad, and quietly stooped to her knees. He stationed her just near the orchids so that if the day became too hard he remembered that there were still things to live for

.    He wanted to go down there, but he couldn’t. He just held eye contact with her for as long as he could. Her lip quivered and a hot tear fell down her cheek, and his eyes watered in mimicry. He cried when she cried. It was a habit he knew he needed to break himself of. He sucked in a breath and looked up and away, resetting his visage in time to stave off the next guest. No one spoke. It was all constant shuffling of quiet feet on wooden floors and tired knees creaking into folds.

     Time was unusually kind to him today. The guests all arrived at the appropriate hour, which meant that he didn’t have to posture in performance for as long as he thought. The ushers came to guide himself, his father, and his brother to the incense urn that rested in front of his mother’s dead body. He rested on his knees, and listened to the priest that chanted from the sutra. The priest’s voice led them out of the physical and into the astral.

     When the time came, Hanzo offered his incense in front of his mother’s urn. A sick feeling gripped his stomach. He blinked it away, and took in the smell that was supposed to bless his mother’s passing. It was supposed to be beautiful. It was beautiful, when it was anyone else’s mother. But now that it had been his mother, he would give anything to never smell that smell again. His nose fluttered in putrid disgust.

     The other guests presented their offerings as well, each in their rested positions carefully orchestrated and oriented by Hanzo’s choosing. The unity in remembrance of his mother’s kindness brought them all together. Smoke wafted from his incense, and then twirled and coiled into the path of his father’s offering, and then his brother’s as it slowly carried upward to the ceiling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath while mentally begging whoever was listening to hear his plea. 

     That the smoke from this incense would choke him to death, and send his soul to stay with hers. 

*****

     This was new. If not new, at least unfamiliar. Hanzo couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this nervous about something that wasn’t a flight. It wasn’t anything that he could explain, beyond calling it a gut feeling. He disguised his weakness by curling his fingers around his thumb and squeezing it tight. Though if it squeezed any tighter, it would likely pop out of place.  

     He leaned against the wall of Cassidy’s bedroom, doing his best to look entirely uninterested in Cassidy’s packing routine. Cassidy packed like a man, bringing only the essentials, and barely those. He rolled his underwear, jeans, and slacks and tucked them recklessly into the vacant spaces of his bag. Then he shoved a pack of cigars right next to his shirts, and Hanzo thought about calling off their entire arrangement for the fourth time this week. There was no way this was the man that he let climb into his sheets with him. 

     “Alright, I think that should just about do it…” Cassidy said, thinking out loud as he looked around his room. Hanzo didn’t know what for. Cassidy’s minimalism would have been distressing, but Hanzo could already tell that it was for the best that Cassidy didn’t keep many things in his room. Otherwise the area would fall into complete disarray. His lack of possessions meant that everything stayed decently tidy. 

     “You have plenty of space in that bag. You should at least pack extra socks and underwear incase of misfortune,” Hanzo cautioned. He knew from experience that public amenities weren’t always dependable. He was still traumatized from his first run-in with a shared laundromat. 

     “Way ahead of you, Han. Should only be gone maybe three days or so. The flight to Nepal’s gonna be about ten hours on the Orca, so a little light reading and some sleeping pills will do the trick. Other than that, it’s a grab and go,” Cassidy drawled, picking up his bag of toiletries and shoving it into another corner of his luggage. “Plus I always leave a little space in the bag, just in case I need to smuggle back a liquid souvenir.”

     “You haven’t told me what is in Nepal,” Hanzo said, eyeing Cassidy as he spun around his room for the third time. 

     “Didn’t think you cared. What’s the matter, hunh? You worried about me?” Cassidy asked with a toothy grin. Hanzo scowled and rolled his eyes. The accusation was ridiculous and without base. Just because he and Cassidy now shared a bed, and nearly every minute of the day, didn’t mean that he was worried about him. To the contrary, Cassidy had more than proved himself a capable combatant, and Hanzo would certainly have his share of missions without Cassidy if he remained at Overwatch as intended. He looked off into the corner at nothing in particular. 

     Cassidy laughed and continued. “Friend of Genji’s actually. A monk named Zenyatta. Says he has some important information about Null-Sector. They were gonna put him on a civilian flight, but intel reports Talon activity in the area. With the recent failure to stop Doomfists’s escape, Winston ain’t takin’ no chances. Me and Genji are going with him and Reinhardt Jr. to get him in person.” 

     “Is that wise?” Hanzo asked. He couldn’t help but notice that there was a distinct lack of Mercy or Ana on this trip. Cassidy smirked as he all but read Hanzo’s mind. 

     “You know as well as I do that I don’t make the calls around here. You got a problem with the roster, you take it up with Winston. Besides, you heard the Doc. Brigitte’s picking up on the medical trade. Girl’s gotta get her feet wet sometime.” Cassidy zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a different package of cigars. Then he went over to his closet and grabbed a spare t-shirt. He rolled the cigars into the shirt, and then doused it in the cheap cologne that made Hanzo’s nose wrinkle. 

     Once the shirt had been thoroughly hosed down, Cassidy handed it to Hanzo. “Here. I know those are your favorite,” Cassidy said. Hanzo just looked at him. 

     “I don’t smoke without you,” Hanzo said, not bothering to take the items from Cassidy’s hand. 

     “Good. Then I’ll have a pack left when I get back. But in case you change your mind,” Cassidy said, pressing the package to Hanzo again. Hanzo took it but arched his eyebrow curiously. 

     “And the shirt?” 

     “You can sleep in it, or put a pillow in it and sleep with it, seeing as we both know you’re gonna miss me,” Cassidy said, tipping Hanzo’s chin up with his finger and an arrogant smirk. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed venomously. 

     “Your presumptuous behavior has led you astray once again. I have no need for any of this,” Hanzo said. Cassidy snickered. 

     “All fine by me. I’ll take my shirt and my cigars back when I get back. You mind if I take your jacket? It’s cold in Nepal this time of year,” Cassidy said. Hanzo pushed up from the wall he was leaning on and turned for the exit. 

     “You’re leaving now, I take it?” Hanzo asked as the hatchet door opened. He walked out of Cassidy’s room and listened for the cowboy following after him. The familiar clop from the soles of Cassidy’s boots brought him peace. 

     “Like I said, Winston ain’t playing around this time. We’ll be leaving shortly,” Cassidy drawled as they made their way to Hanzo’s room. Hanzo opened the hatch and then went to his closet, grabbing his black jacket with the wide collar and the faux dragon tattoo on the left sleeve to match his real one. He handed it to Cassidy, who put it on immediately, because he’s a giant dork. The clash of Hanzo’s Tokyo-chic jacket with Cassidy’s rustic farm-hand attire was ghastly. 

     “You look ridiculous,” Hanzo said, eyeing Cassidys attire. Cassidy pursed his lips. 

     “Yeah okay. Look, are you gonna stand there being all pretty and mean, or are you gonna come over here and give me a kiss goodbye?” Cassidy asked tersely, letting himself show some exasperation with Hanzo’s stand-offish behavior. This was that soft underbelly of Cassidy’s that Hanzo was all too familiar with now. As much as Cassidy liked to paint Hanzo like the weeping maiden waiting for his hero-lover to return from battle, it was Cassidy and not him who was longing for a farewell kiss. The barb was a good one though, he had to admit. Hanzo wanted to laugh, but that would mean giving Cassidy the satisfaction.

     Instead he just stepped in. He grabbed the collar of his jacket that Cassidy was now wearing, and pulled the cowboy in. Hanzo’s lips pressed against Cassidy’s gently, and folded into a soft kiss that tugged when they parted. He backed away slowly, his eyes resting on Cassidy’s contented smirk. 

     <<Please be careful,>> Hanzo said in Japanese. Cassidy arched an eyebrow. 

     <<Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon,>> Cassidy said back in sort-of-Japanese. His accent was horrible , but he at least said the right words. Hanzo’s eyes widened in astonishment. Cassidy winked and walked out the door. The hatchet shut behind him, louder than ever before. Hanzo looked down at the shirt and cigars. 

     He put the cigars in a nearby drawer. He normally saved cigars for formal occasions or business endeavors as a ceremonial sign of allegiance. But he couldn’t deny that it was a thoughtful gesture of Cassidy to have paid attention to which cigar he seemed to enjoy smoking most. When he pulled from this brand, it tasted like peanuts and smelled like tilled earth. But it would be missing something if Cassidy weren’t there to smoke it with him. 

     He closed the drawer and eyed the T-shirt. He looked around out of habit, but then gently brought the shirt to his nose. The smell of Cassidy’s cologne assaulted the canals of his nasal path, and he shuddered and pulled it back. He tossed it away so that he could take a moment to remove his shoes, setting them aside as he stepped out of them and onto his tatami flooring. And then he went over to grab the shirt again, and put the spare pillow he kept for Cassidy into it.

     The siren song of his bed called to him, and he was powerless to resist its temptation. A midday nap in the full width of his bed was just what he needed right now to take off the edge from constant companionship. He eased into bed like a stretching cat, and laid flat on his stomach. But rather than lay his head on his own pillow, it somehow fell onto Cassidy’s. He took in the smell of that wretched cologne again. 

     Hanzo fell asleep with a smile. 

***** 

     Mei was a woman of duplicity. Her eyes and cheeks were soft and round so her face had a childlike innocence, but Hanzo had spent enough time in her company to see through the deceit. In all actuality, she was a demon who wielded frost rather than fire, and she kept herself young and vivacious via the consumption of souls that she’d sent to their frigid deaths. Or at the very least, she was more cunning than she ever truly let on. 

     She and Hanzo sat across from one another, over a game of chess. She leaned forward, gripping the bottom of her chair with one hand, while the other cupped her chin as she ran her thumb back and forth along her lips, contemplating her next move. Hanzo sat still, eyeing the pieces as well. When she asked him to join her for a game, he truly didn’t think it would last this long. Chess was a hobby he’d taken on both to exercise his intellect, and to use as a networking tool. He wasn’t the best there was at the game by any means, but it had been some time since he’d been defeated. 

     Mei’s brilliance was never the question. She was easily one of the strongest scientific minds he’d ever come into contact with. But science and data didn’t always translate into strategy and forethought. Still, she played a vicious game and had already lured Hanzo into several exchanges that seemed to be going in his favor, but ultimately cost him in the long run. He hated to admit it, but Mei had him on the ropes. She’d even taken his queen. 

     <<So, when does Cassidy return? Are you excited?>> Mei asked in Mandarin. He knew that she was simply making conversation while taking her turn, but there was a part of him that wondered if she’d brought up Cassidy in efforts to throw him off his game. Then he saw that she made her move, sliding a knight into position to put him in check in three moves. Hanzo thwarted that tactic with a decisive defensive maneuver. 

     <<They return today, though I do not know the hour>> Hanzo replied, moving his rook into place so that if Mei made her move, he could counter her knight with his rook and trap her into a checkmate. He crossed his arms and re-examined the board. He would need to go on the offensive sooner rather than later. <<I suppose it will be nice to have him back. Your move.>> 

     Mei laughed. <<I hope you don’t take offense to me saying this, but it is alright to let yourself be happy. I was worried when word got around about the two of you, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to help you through that time,>> Mei said, giving him a sad expression. Hanzo relaxed as he sighed, remembering the unfortunate circumstances of his outing.  

     <<Do not trouble yourself. It was a mere annoyance,>> Hanzo said. Mei re-examined the board. She tilted her head from side to side, taking in the game from all angles, before making her move. Hanzo narrowed his eyes. It was uncannily ill-planned to leave her bishop open in the way that she did, but he had made the mistake of underestimating her already. His eyes traced the pathways of the bishop’s movements, doing his best to anticipate her next set of turns. 

     <<But still, you seem to be doing well, if you don’t mind me saying. Not that you weren’t before. It’s just that when we first met you seemed stressed and burdened. You smile more now. And you seem well rested,>> Mei said cheerfully. Hanzo fought the smile that was creeping into place out of spite. <<Maybe he brings out a different side of you?>> 

     Hanzo looked at the board again. There was no forethought into Mei’s placement. She had lost herself in her own deception. He would win in three moves if she didn’t stop him. He moved his rook and took her bishop. <<I believe it is the time apart that has done me well. It may come as a surprise to you, but he is…>> Hanzo said, but he didn’t know the word for this in Mandarin. He flipped to English. “... Clingy, ” Hanzo said, doing his best to sound annoyed. Mei just giggled. “What is it?” 

     “You are blushing,” Mei said. 

     “I do not blush,” Hanzo said curtly. Mei rolled her lips in and held her breath in an effort not to mock him. He waited a prolonged minute before reaching up to check the warmth of his cheeks. They were scorching. He was definitely blushing. He sighed. 

     “I am happy for you. I just hope that you are happy as well,” Mei said, and decided to leave it at that. She made her move, and moved her knight now that it was free from the threat of his rook. He ignored her, and continued onward with his own strategy. 

     “And are you happy? With Zarya?” Hanzo asked. Mei smiled brightly. 

     “She had to return to Russia for a private task involving Katya Volskaya. I offered to go with her, but she didn’t think she would have much free time to spend with me if I went, and didn’t want me to be bored. I’m worried that I bother her,” Mei said, making her move. “Check.” 

     Hanzo simply moved his king out of check, already having seen what she was going for. “Worried?” 

     “I’m afraid I talk too much. She doesn’t say a lot, really. I ask her questions, but her answers are always short unless we’re talking about exercise and weight training. She can talk for hours about that. But otherwise it’s me just going on and on, and she just sits there listening. That’s weird, isn’t it? Oh, and check again,” Mei said, moving another piece. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed. He looked down at the board. 

     “It is not a problem unless she says it is a problem. Zarya is discerning and unafraid to speak her mind. If she is truly the match of your soul, she will find a way to voice her grievances,” Hanzo said, moving his king again, trying to get out of check. He scanned the board quickly, doing his best to see what her next move would be. 

     Mei smiled. “That was…very well said. I might be trying to fix something that isn’t broken. Thank you for the insight,” Mei said. She grabbed her knight and moved it one space left, and then two spaces forward. “Oh! That’s checkmate!” 

     Hanzo looked at the board. She had pincered him in a cluster of his own defenses. He needed to move, or be taken by a wayward rook. But there was nowhere that he could go, where the knight wouldn’t have his head. He exhaled and then remembered his manners. “A victory well earned,” Hanzo said with a head nod. Mei smiled even brighter. 

     “Would you like a rematch?” Mei asked as she giggled. Hanzo smirked. He moved to recollect his pieces, but then his ears caught a barrage of noise in the distance. His head whipped around at alert. Then Mei heard it too. It was the sound of hatchet doors opening, and quick footsteps. Hanzo instinctively moved in front of Mei, absently reaching for a weapon, though there was nothing there. He grit his teeth and moved to the door. 

     The hatch flew open, and Hanzo peered out into the hallway to see what the commotion was. Pharah was yelling for everyone to clear the pathway. Hanzo stayed back but kept his head out to make sense of the situation. Then his stomach constricted itself into a knot as he saw Cassidy come reeling around the corner of the hallway on a stretcher. 

     Everything froze. Pharah was yelling, but Hanzo couldn’t hear her. He couldn’t hear anything other than the revolting beeps of the electrocardiogram attached to Cassidy’s stretcher. He counted the clicks. He didn’t need medical certification to know that Cassidy’s heart rate was much too fast. He cleared the distance before he even realized he was walking. “Is he alright?” 

    “Stay back!” Pharah barked. She and Brigitte were wheeling Cassidy over to medical. Hanzo couldn’t breathe. His eyes burned with tears as they dilated. The veins in his neck and forehead throbbed with the need for oxygen. He stared in bewildered oblivion. Then he jumped when he felt Mei’s hand on his back. He looked away from her, and back to the last thing he ever wanted to see. 

     Hanzo could hear his heart. It was thumping in his ears. His eyes were burning but the tears wouldn’t fall. His inner voice talked him through the panic. He willed himself to calm down. He told himself he didn’t know anything yet, and that nothing had been decided. To panic now would only draw attention to himself and away from Cole. He blinked. He breathed. 

     “...I am so sorry…” 

     Hanzo snapped out of his trance. He hadn’t heard Genji come up beside him. He looked Genji over to make certain that he was alright. His cybernetic parts were scuffed and dented, but to the surface eye he appeared unharmed. Hanzo furrowed his brow. 

     “What happened?” Hanzo asked, needing answers. Genji hesitated. Mei gave them space.

     “Talon intercepted the message from my master. They sent operatives to stop us from helping him escape. There was a battle,” Genji said. But he had that tone in his voice. That tone that meant that he was purposely avoiding telling Hanzo something that would make him angry. Hanzo’s nostrils flared. Today was not the day for Genji’s bullshit. 

     <<What have you done?>> Hanzo growled. He turned his body fully to Genji now, clenching his fists. He didn’t have time for this. He didn’t have time for Genji right now. 

     Genji paused. Hanzo watched him swallow. Then he straightened up as he continued. <<They have a sniper, unlike any I have ever faced before. We were in the middle of evacuation. I needed to make sure that Zenyatta and Brigitte made it onto the Orca, so I drew her attention to me. I used Asa-sensei’s deflection technique. But…the bullet ricocheted off of my blade and hit Cassidy….in the neck…>>

Chapter Text

     Hanzo grit his teeth as he clenched his jaw. The feelings of worry and grief in his chest alchemically converted themselves into malice and rage, as his eyes narrowed and sharpened at Genji. There were times when the cybernetic parts made him doubt the authenticity of Genji’s survival from that dreadful night. There were times where he wondered to himself if Mercy and Moira hadn’t saved him at all, but instead salvaged the DNA they could recover from his body and cloned him into half a husk. But now more than ever he was certain. This was undoubtedly his younger brother, confessing yet another failure to him. 

     Hanzo’s rage was undeniable. His eyes were locked on Genji as his chest heaved with every manually-engaged breath he took. Genji swallowed, but then turned to face Hanzo head on, rather than standing off at an angle like he was before. He lowered his chin. <<It was an accident.>> Genji said in Japanese, doing his best to stand his ground.

     <<You accidentally baited a sniper into a one-on-one duel? You accidentally used Asa-Sensei’s technique to deflect bullets - which you’re only supposed to use in emergency situations - and only at close range? Which then accidentally pierced Cole’s throat?>> Hanzo sneered with each accusation. Genji had no words. Hanzo just shook his head and looked away. 

     <<You weren’t there, Hanzo. You didn’t see her. You didn’t face her,>> Genji growled back. Hanzo clenched his fists. His arms shook as he took deep breaths. His nose was hiked up into a tight wrinkle as his nostrils twitched. He rolled his lips in, biting them to keep himself from saying the cruel thoughts that ripped through his mind. Now was the time for Genji to stop talking. Genji continued talking. <<I did what I had to do to keep everyone safe.>> 

     Hanzo’s eyes widened with his fury. << Safe? That’s what you call keeping Cole safe? >> Hanzo shook his head repeatedly. His eyes burned and his shoulders were taught with tension. <<Get away from me. I can’t look at you right now,>> Hanzo growled a deep warning. 

     <<...There was no other way,>> Genji said sadly, before turning to leave. But Hanzo loosened the grip that he had on his restraint. 

     << You have been trained in stealth since you were a toddler! The very essence of Asa-Sensei’s training is not to become overly reliant on the blade, when you yourself are the weapon! You should have found an angle. You should have hugged corners until you could close the distance between yourself and the sniper, and then you could have gone in for the kill. How did it come down to a long-distance showdown between you and a sniper? She should have been eliminated before you tried to flee!>> Hanzo said, shaking his head over and over again. His voice was hoarse as he wheezed while he spoke. Genji turned back to face him, walking closer.  

     << Of course! Of course you would have done everything so perfectly, right Hanzo? You’ve been doing this for three months, and you’re already so much better than me? Of course it would have been so goddamn easy for you! Because nothing I ever do is right! No, you always have to be the best at everything! >> Genji hissed, marching closer and closer. Hanzo’s fury was tangible.

     <<I wish you were the best at anything! I wish I didn’t have to do everything myself! I wish that for once, you would pull your weight and be my fucking brother! You have lived a life where you were given the best teachers, the best training, the most support, and you still come up short every time! But why would you change now? Being incapable has worked for you all your life! >> Hanzo roared. His face was red with anger, as the veins on the side of his forehead throbbed.   

     Genji took a deep breath. He was quiet for a prolonged moment, but then he spoke again. <<I understand you’re hurt. I’m sorry, brother. I’m hurt too. You’re not the only one who cares for him. But none of that gives you the right to talk to me that way.>>

     <<If I had been there this wouldn’t have happened. You knew how I felt about him. I’ve never let anything happen to Angela since I’ve come here. The minute I found out she was your soulmate, I promised myself that I would always keep her safe, for you! I trusted you with Cole, and look what happened?>> Hanzo quickly wiped a tear from his eye and flicked it off dismissively. He held his head in his hands, shaking his head with disbelief. <<Get away from me…>> 

     <<He will be alright. Angela’s working on him now. You will see,>> Genji repeated, not budging an inch. 

     Hanzo growled a deep warning. << Get away from me. >> 

     << I am sorry, Hanzo! Alright? I am so sorry, and I will say that as many times as you need me to! You think you’re the only one who cares about him, but you’re not. You think I don’t blame myself for this, but I do! But I did what was right in the moment, and I needed to protect Master Zenyatta,>> Genji argued. Hanzo snapped. 

     <<Master Zenyatta is a hard-drive in a mechanical body! Master Zenyatta can be shot and then rebooted into a new body! We can’t uninstall and reinstall Cole Cassidy, you idiot!>> Hanzo yelled. 

     <<You know nothing of Omnic lives! You don’t care about the Omnic plight because you’ve never had to! Well guess what, Hanzo? I am an Omnic now! Master Zenyatta is the one who reminded me of my humanity, when you tried to take it from me! All because I didn’t fit into your perfect world, where everything was under your control and nothing ever went wrong!>> Genji yelled back, stepping in even closer. The brothers were face to face, and inches apart. 

     <<You have no idea the things I’ve protected you from! You have no idea the horrors you were spared! Nothing about my world was perfect! It was ruined the day you were born!>> Hanzo spat. He was shaking from head to toe.  

     <<And you’ve hated me for it ever since. Haven’t you? Just say it Hanzo. Just say it! Father’s not here to punish you anymore, so you can speak your mind. You made sure of that the night you let him die!>>   

     And then Hanzo lunged! The threads of his restraint snapped as his hands went around his brother’s neck, pushing him full force into the wall behind them. Genji’s back hit the wall with a crunching thud, and Hanzo came in to follow up with a deadly palm strike. Genji ducked, and Hanzo’s hand hit the wall with enough force to leave a dent. The Shimada brothers broke into a blinding series of combinations, elbows, blocking elbows. Knees knocking with knees. 

     Genji knocked Hanzo’s chin up with a swift uppercut, and then pushed him hard on the chest with a sweeping kick to the back of his ankle, trying to reintroduce some space between them. Hanzo grabbed Genji as he fell, whirling him around with the strength of his rage so that Genji took the brunt of the fall. Genji yelped with pain, but then moved to control the grapple on the ground to keep Hanzo pinned. But Hanzo just stood up from the grapple and carried Genji with him, full force ramming him into a wall again so that he would let go. 

     From there it was punches and kicks from both ends, until the deafening roar of a large and furious gorilla paralyzed them both. Winston moved at breakneck speeds, pinning Hanzo to the wall with one of his hands, and Genji to the roof with his foot.

     “Stop this, right now!” Winston roared. Both brothers struggled against Winston’s grip, trying to get back at each other. 

     <<Let go of me! I’ll kill him! I swear, I’ll kill him!>> Hanzo screamed in Japanese. His eyes were wide and dilated with bestial madness, but tears flowed from them freely now, as his rage consumed him. The hard light of his arm tattoo glowed a menacing blue as he pressed against Winston’s pin. 

     <<I’m not afraid of you! You’ve tried twice now and I’m still here!>> Genji growled back, his own hard light tattoo surging with electric green energy, as he jammed his palm into Winston’s wrist, freeing himself. Hanzo took advantage of Winston’s moment of confusion to topple him off balance, using the gorilla’s weight against him. He snarled and moved to lunge for Genji again, but he was cut off. Reinhardt, Soldier: 76, and Ana all moved between them in Winston’s stead. The three of them faced Hanzo, braced for impact. 

     “That’s enough, Hanzo,” Ana said sternly. Hanzo was breathing so hard he hadn’t even registered that they were there. The light from his tattoo burst into particles that faded into oblivion, as his shoulders finally fell slack. All that remained were the tears that fell freely from his eyes. He never cried in sadness. Only in anger. 

     Genji stood behind his comrades in arms, lowering his guard but looking at Hanzo all the while. He wasn’t as breathless as Hanzo, but the brawl had taken its toll on him. His cybernetic arm glitched as it sickeningly slacked out of place, damaged from the impact of Hanzo’s brutality. He clutched it and forced it back into its socket, and then rang out his fingers to make sure the signals from his operating system still transmitted to the ends of his digits.

     Hanzo wiped his eyes and shook his head. <<...You take everything from me...>> Hanzo said sadly. He walked wordlessly down the hall, ignoring the horrified looks of everyone around him who had seen him snap. His eyes were unfocused, only paying enough attention to guide him down the hall to his own hatchet, shutting out everything and everyone else.  

*****

FLASHBACK 

     Hanzo was sitting in his father’s spacious office. There was a time when this was his least favorite room in the entire Hanamuran estate, because if he was there, he was most likely in some form of trouble. It was either that, or he would be doled some task of trivial importance to yet again measure his capability, though it had already been proven many times over. Things were different then. He was still a child, so he was allowed a certain margin for error, and a longer leash. Now it seemed like he spent more time in his father’s office than he did in his own bedroom. 

     He was sitting on a decadent couch at the edge of its cushion, reviewing the ledgers of the Shimada empire on a tablet and double checking the accounting. It was stressful, always being right. Because even as he ran the numbers for the third time, he had come up short. The ledgers came up short more often than not these days. The family business had gotten a little too brazen, and showed up on Overwatch’s radar in a bad way. The conflict shut down many of their usual traffic routes. Distribution had become a prison for the once freely sprawling dragon. 

     <<How does it look?>> Sojirou asked, sitting at his desk with a series of documents spewn around him. Hanzo sighed, not wanting to deliver the bad news to his father. But he knew better than to make him repeat himself. He set the tablet down.

     <<Profits continue to decline, as I’m sure you’re aware,>> Hanzo said quietly. Sojirou’s face tightened with visible stress. He was shaking with anger. <<I still believe that we need to establish different routes for smuggling.>> 

     <<Those routes have been ours since the end of World War II. Abandoning them now would only be a sign of weakness. We would lose morale,>> Sojirou argued. Hanzo retorted in his mind rather than out loud, knowing not to provoke his father right now. 

     <<I could assassinate one of Overwatch’s leaders. Perhaps it would boost morale if I placed the head of their strongest soldier on a platter at the executives meeting? That would answer any questions about the dragon’s strength,>> Hanzo offered. Sojirou paused, actually considering the suggestion. 

     <<The mix up with Overwatch was a blow, but it isn’t one that needs any further attention. The wiser move is to pretend to be unaffected. Overwatch has bigger problems to deal with. Our present problem is the Hashimoto,>> Sojirou explained, thinking out loud. The Hashimoto had been waiting like the tiger of its family crest for exactly this moment. And now that the Shimada were weakened by Overwatch, the tiger pounced on the dragon and clawed relentlessly. 

     <<You still believe there are spies within the syndicate? Double agents working for both sides?>> Hanzo asked. 

     <<It is the only explanation for the tiger’s recent string of success. They know exactly where to strike and when. All of our warehouses have been swept for taps, and at each of our meetings we are scanned for wires. The Hashimoto have gotten their claws into one of my men. I simply have to identify who it is. Do you have any ideas?>> Sojirou asked. 

     Hanzo paused. He thought it over twice before speaking again. <<We suggest a fake change in route, as a temporary reprieve from our current problem. But we give each of the branches different information and see which branch gets attacked by the Hashimoto. We supply the route with minimal product - just enough to display as bait, and then we have agents lying in wait to take the Hashimoto out. Best case scenario, we stop this interference in its tracks. Worst case scenario, if nothing else, we know where the leak is. Lives will be lost in the conflict. We will have to compensate the families, but our problem will be solved.>> 

     Sojirou looked into Hanzo’s eyes, and Hanzo looked back into his father’s, seeing the dark reflection in his eyes. Hanzo felt his stomach tighten, but he stood his ground. <<It is not in moments of comfort where strength is developed, but in moments of conflict. I did my best to shelter you when you were a child, but now I see that you are my worthy successor. At least in this, I have done my part,>> Sojirou said, nodding at Hanzo. 

     <<You have done wonders, Father. You stand among the family’s greatest heads, you know that.>> Hanzo said, fighting the swelling of pride that bubbled in his chest. Compliments from his father were rarities worth their weight in yen. It was relieving to finally hear words of praise.

     <<As will you. Leave that ledger where it is. Counting it again is pointless. We will pare down on our income to make up for the loss in business revenue, but the industry will continue to function as intended. Who is on guard duty tonight?>> Sojirou asked. 

     <<I am,>> Hanzo said. He wasn’t, but Genji had been spiraling as of late. One of their lifestyle’s recent concessions had been the releasing of the guards that patrolled the estate. It was both a reduction in expense, and a way to make sure that the Hashimoto didn’t get their claws into the Dragon’s head. If there were double agents within the Shimada syndicate, no one could be trusted but family. 

     <<Very well. Endure this for me, and let me restore us to greatness. I will reward you tenfold, and give you the organization better than before we were interrupted,>> Sojirou said. Hanzo bowed. 

     <<It is nothing to endure Father. I simply do what must be done.>> Hanzo didn’t see the look of relief on Sojirou’s face. 

     <<Then see it done. You are dismissed,>> Sojirou said. Hanzo rose from his bow and turned to leave, quietly making his way out of his father’s office and beginning the winding journey to his own wing in the north. He made it to his door and closed it behind him, before changing out of his business attire and switching into his tactical gear. He tied his hair back into a neat ponytail and flung it over his shoulders, before wrapping his fists for protection. 

     It was an inconvenience for him to take on Genji’s shifts, but in truth he didn’t mind patrol duty. It was a time for his mind to wander, and explore the things that he didn’t get to explore when he was otherwise preoccupied. He stooped down to the chest that he kept at the foot of his bed, opening it with the air release and withdrawing his personal katana - a hand crafted custom order from Toshiro Yamagami; the greatest swordsmith in Japan. He maintained his sword with pride and diligence, and it showed in the way that it sang back to him when he pulled it out of its sheath. He drew it, inspecting the sharpened edge of the blade, and looking at his reflection in the light. 

     Hanzo allowed himself one more moment of indulgence before sheathing the blade again, and then heading out of his room. With a running start, he leapt out from his balcony onto the roofs as quiet as a cat. He surveyed the area before walking the rooftops, looking like a shadow beneath the stars and the moon. The disadvantage to owning as much land as they did, was how exposed and open they were to enemy intent. It was up to him to assure his family’s protection for the night. 

     As he wandered, his mind drifted to the events of late. The raid on their operation from Overwatch, the recent string of attacks from the Hashimoto clan, and his father’s obvious deterioration in health, were all stressors that demanded satisfaction. Hanzo sighed, talking himself through everything that had been happening recently, giving himself the moment to vent out his feelings in public privacy. It was times like these when he wished that his mother was still around. She was the anchor that kept them all steady when the tides of their lifestyle chopped with worrying waters. Her death had left them all adrift. 

     And now his mind wandered to his brother, and the string of bad habits that he had taken on in order to cope with his mother’s death. Genji had always been a bit of a glutton when they were kids, but lately he traded out comfort eating for binge drinking to the point of dishonor. Hanzo spent his money making investments outside of his family’s income, laundering an escape should the need ever arise. But Genji’s money was more often spent on recreational reprieve, and most recently in the form of escorts. 

     Hanzo remembered the shock that paralyzed him the first time he saw a woman leaving his brother’s room at an indecent hour. He didn’t know why it staggered him so, but it did. Perhaps it was because whenever he saw Genji, he saw the twelve year old who wouldn’t think twice about stealing the oxtail from his udon . But Genji was nineteen now, and free to make his own decisions. He just made all of the wrong decisions. 

     Genji’s twentieth birthday was drawing near. On his twentieth he would have to perform his labors in order to earn his hardlight tattoo - a technique exclusive to the Shimada family. Hanzo reflected back on his own labors, and the horrifying tasks that he had to overcome to prove himself as the next generational head of the Shimada. He succeeded, though it wasn’t without difficulty. But in the end, the dragon tattoo that garnished his arm in familial pride made everything worth it. He pulled out his phone taking a look at the time. 

     The hours flew by as he lost himself in his own mind. He was surprised at how quickly time faded when he allowed himself the indulgence of reflection. Soon the hour would be improper, and sleep would grab hold of his father and brother. But he thought to himself that a visit to Genji might do them both some good. He patrolled the outer rim of the Shimada estate, and then made his way to the southern end of the palace, to Genji’s wing. 

     As Hanzo made his way across the rooftops, he rehearsed what he was going to say in his mind. He was concerned for his brother, but he needed to be certain that he showed that concern, rather than the frustration that lingered within him. Genji’s antics lately had been distressing, but it was Hanzo’s intent that Genji rule the Shimada with him, lest there be any contempt bred between them. It would be nice not to have to shoulder the burdens of leadership on his own, but he needed to be sure that Genji could bear the weight. 

     Hanzo made his way to Genji’s rooftop, and then descended silently, playfully testing his brother’s perception. He wondered if Genji would hear him and react, but nothing came. Instead he approached the open window of Genji’s personal chambers, until he saw something. There were two silhouettes in the shadow puppetry of the paper screens. One of them was certainly Genji; he could tell by the messy tuft of hair. But the other was a woman. At first he wrote her off as another of Genji’s indulgences, but there was something about this girl that called to him. Something familiar. 

     Hanzo froze in place and swallowed. The realization washed over him before he could even think to process it. He already knew it was true. Some part of him always knew that it was true. But the morbid part of his mind - the part of him that hated himself the most - wanted him to come closer. It needed to see this for itself. 

     Hanzo crept closer, moving on the balls of his feet in pure silence, just enough to peer around the corner of the paper screen and cement the downward spiral that his mind was already warning him about. His heart seized in place. His fists gripped into tight balls. He held his breath until his head had poked around just far enough for him to see what he needed to see. And then he saw her. 

     <<...Yuka…?>>

     Every fiber of his being fell into a pit of anguish. There was never a time to reignite things with her, now that so much had changed with his family. His mother’s death meant his father’s panic. His father’s panic meant that Hanzo needed to be perfect. He needed to anticipate the things that his father would never see coming. He needed to fill in for his mother, and that meant that he didn’t have time for Yuka, no matter how his heart yearned for her. 

     He sent her messages whenever he had a moment to spare. He brought her trinkets from each of his excursions overseas or otherwise, using them as placeholders to be there for her when he couldn’t. But his mind already understood something was happening long ago, because it had been Yuka who managed to pull Genji out of the shadows of his own despair. Yuka was the one who managed to get Genji to come up for air, from the depths of his downward spiral. He should have known. 

     Of course she loved Genji. Of course they were involved. Of course she would pick him. Of course. 

     But then they froze, and Hanzo froze. He retracted himself as quickly and as quietly as possible, darting down the balcony and leaping. He ran, moving as far and as fast as he could away from this. He ran away from everything. He needed a second to breathe. He needed a moment to think. He needed to not be Hanzo Shimada; eldest son and eldest brother. Hanzo moved like a man possessed, leaping and bounding beneath the night sky. 

****

     The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Hanzo’s head was pounding in a disorienting way. He peeled his eyes apart as he sat up to look at the caller ID. Genji was calling him. He hung up and tossed the phone aside. He didn’t want to talk to Genji right now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. 

     His mind was foggy with the after effects of an abundance of sake. His memories slowly came back to him as he looked around this strange room, which he now realized was a hotel. He wiped his eyes and sluggishly stood from his futon, feeling an abundance of sake swashing around in his belly. The urge to vomit was right at the back of his throat. He quickly made his way to the bathroom. 

     He reflexively dropped to his knees at the toilet and purged himself into a pool of technicolor grief. He clutched his stomach and heaved as his head rang with the pain. But the physical pain was a refresher from the pain in his heart, as the memories came back to him from the night before. He began to retrace his steps. The sight led him to flee, and then he fled all the way to the nearest bar, where he drunk himself silly to quiet the wailing of his mind. 

     Somehow in all of that he wound up at this hotel, and on his knees in a fit of dishonor. He flushed the toilet and climbed up to the sink, brushing his teeth and washing himself over. He looked himself in the eye, seeing the strain in his vision and the fatigue on his visage. This was pathetic. And Hanzo Shimada was many things, but pathetic wasn’t one of them. 

     The cruelty of his heart propelled him onward. He forced himself into the shower, relieving his body from the stench of sweat and sake . When he finished, he looked over at the time, knowing that he would need to check out. Then his phone rang again, and he swore in Japanese. He picked it up off of the floor and snarled when he answered it. 

     << What >> Hanzo growled. 

     << You’re alive …>> Genji sobbed. Hanzo’s eyes went wide. Genji’s calls suddenly made sense. With the Hashimoto as active as they were, the opposite could have easily been true. 

     <<...I am unharmed. I apologize.>> Hanzo said, but Genji continued to sob. Hanzo made a face. <<I said I was sorry. This does not call for tears. You should->> Hanzo began but Genji interrupted him.

     <<Y-you…you don’t know…>> Genji said, hissing as he cried. Hanzo shook his head in anger. Was Genji really about to try and cry his way out of this? He knew damn well how Hanzo felt about Yuka. His anger boiled. 

     <<Genji I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now. You don’t get to do this! >>

     << Fuck you, you asshole! Dad was killed! The Hashimoto killed him last night! Where were you? >> 

     Hanzo dropped his phone.

*****

PRESENT DAY

     Hanzo looked around his room once more for good measure. His bag was fully packed, and everything here was pre-furnished before he came. He opened all of the drawers one by one, and then closed them to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He checked beneath the bed and in the closet, but there was nothing there.  All of his belongings were coming with him. 

     He had written Cassidy a letter, explaining his departure and offering his apologies. He tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket, and then quietly exited his hatch, after giving it one last backward look. His heart was heavy, but he knew that his time here at the Gibraltar had come to its end. Genji could have this place. He lived without it before, and he could do it again. 

     Hanzo made his way toward the medical bay, giving it a look over. All of the beds were empty, but he identified the room that would be allocated to Cassidy’s recovery, once he was out of surgery. He sighed, wishing that he could somehow say goodbye in person, but he knew that Mercy needed to concentrate, and Cassidy was most likely unconscious, anyway. All things considered, it was better this way. Hanzo knew that Cassidy was better off without him. 

     He slipped inside of the med-bay, and silently placed the letter on the bedside tray near Cassidy’s proposed bed. A sick feeling ripped through his stomach, but he forced it back down, instead turning to leave as quietly as he came. Hanzo blended silently into the scenery, moving along like a phantom as he left the med-bay and made his way down the hall. There was only one more stop to make. 

     “Athena?” Hanzo asked quietly, as he walked.

     “Yes, Hanzo?” The artificial intelligence greeted him. Athena’s hologram screen showed up out of thin air, like a comic book’s speech bubble. She was always casual, unless it was official Overwatch business.  

     “Is Winston in central operations?” Hanzo asked quietly.

     “Yes. Would you like to send a message?” Athena asked, her screen floating alongside him. 

     “No. I will be there momentarily. That was all,” Hanzo said, and the hologram projection blinked away into obscurity. Hanzo marched onward, until he arrived at the large circular door for central operations. The doors parted at his arrival, and he saw Winston, tiredly scanning data over multiple projection screens. Leadership was taking its toll on Winston. Hanzo could see the effects of stress on his face. The gorilla looked away from his screens once the doors parted, and adjusted his glasses back into place. 

     “Hanzo?” Winston said softly. The gorilla’s eyes quickly took note of the bag on Hanzo’s shoulder, and the briefcase he had in his hand that almost always contained Hanzo’s bow and arrow. The archer stepped forward. He placed his overwatch communication link on the desk in front of Winston, and then stepped back, taking a deep bow. 

     “I regret my actions from earlier. I do not ask that you forgive me. Only that you forgive yourself for taking a chance on me. Would that I were worthy of your faith,” Hanzo said, before standing back upright. He met Winston’s already watered eyes and flinched, but then he steeled himself after a swallow. “I officially resign from Overwatch. I will sign whatever non-disclosure agreements you need me to sign, but I fear that I cannot remain here any longer.” 

     Winston looked at Hanzo for a long time. Then he looked down and sighed. “It was my fault, Hanzo. All of this was my fault. If I had only done my due diligence as team captain, scanned the area first, or even called in back-up then none of this would have happened. I don’t blame you for resigning,” Winston said sadly, looking away. 

     “Leadership is not easy. Give yourself grace. I have no regret in following your command. I only wish that I could have done more. But today…I raised a hand to my brother in anger, and tried to take his life once again. I am everything I swore never to be. I’ve done everything I promised not to do again. There is no place for me here. There is no place for me anywhere,” Hanzo said, closing his eyes with disappointment. 

     Winston walked up to his desk and grabbed Hanzo’s communication link. It looked tiny in his apeish hand, as he took it and stashed it away. “Whatever transpired between you and Genji doesn’t change how I see you at all. I know a thing or two about having brothers. And I understand that you feel you can’t stay here. I disagree, but I won’t try to talk you out of it. But you will always have a place here, so long as I am acting commander. And you will always have a friend, as long as I live,” Winston said, giving Hanzo his full attention. 

     Hanzo faltered for just a moment, but the kindness of Winston’s words went in one ear and out the other. He needed to punish himself for this. It was only proper. “Likewise, if you need an agent in the field…I will accept. Though I regret I must ask you one last favor. I have no way to leave,” Hanzo said. 

     “I’ll arrange a flight for you, and Ray will take you to the airport now. But Hanzo…it isn’t too late,” Winston said, cautioning Hanzo against his self-deprecation. 

     “You have done more for me than I can repay. But the first step in the attempt, would be to remove myself from your presence. May your days henceforth be tempered with peace,” Hanzo said before bowing. But his ears perked when he heard the gorilla take a couple of steps forward, and he looked up to see that Winston had bowed back. His face was nearly touching the floor. 

     Winston rose up again. <<Thank you Hanzo, for everything,>> he said in perfect Japanese. Hanzo nodded, and then turned to leave, walking out of the door for central headquarters. As he made his way to the exit leading to the parking garage, he drafted a goodbye message to Mei using Athena. He set it to send to her in two days time, when he would be well and truly removed from her life for good. The connections he made here were entertaining, but he knew better. If he could hurt Genji, his flesh and blood, then it would be a matter of time before he hurt everyone else, too. He was a weapon. And a weapon only has one use.

     As Hanzo approached the exit hatch, the door shifted up into the space within its frame. He stepped outside into the dusk, but then stopped cold in his tracks. His heart finally beat out of relief rather than pain. He took in a breath of fresh air, his lungs swelling at the intake. Cole Cassidy was standing out in the middle of the street. His arm was in a sling, and his neck in a brace, but his wide brimmed hat sat comfortably on his head, and he had a cigar in his mouth. 

    They stood there, looking at each other in prolonged silence. Hanzo was relieved to see Cassidy up and about, but the look on the cowboy’s face told him not to move just yet. That was when Cassidy reached into his pocket, brandishing the letter that Hanzo had written him. Even at the distance they were at, Hanzo could tell that Cassidy hadn’t even opened it. He looked from the letter to Cassidy. 

     “Well?” Cassidy asked. Hanzo swallowed, but said nothing. They stood apart from each other. Neither man was armed, but this was the most hostile they had ever been with each other, and that included the time that Hanzo had his arrow trained on Cassidy’s back on route sixty-six. 

     “Everything you need to know is in that letter,” Hanzo said slowly. His voice dripped with sorrow, but his expression was as stern as ever. He met Cassidy face to face, in respect for the time that they spent together. But he needed to leave. And he needed to leave right now. 

     “You got something to say to me Han, you can say it to my face,” Cassidy said, his eye contact unwavering. Hanzo met his gaze, but then looked right by him as Ray the driver pulled up in a black hovercar with tinted windows. Hanzo looked back at Cassidy. Cassidy didn’t move. He was standing right between Hanzo and the car, with his eyes locked onto Hanzo’s. He was waiting. He was daring him to do it. 

     The wind blew and the grass rippled around them. It caught Hanzo’s fringe bang, and the loose hairs that stuck out from his bun. It caught the bangs that framed Cassidy’s face, and blew the cigar smoke up and out of the way. But neither man broke. Both of them were holding defiant eye contact with the other. Cassidy’s eyes squinted with hurt and betrayal. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed with punitive determination. 

     Hanzo looked into Cassidy’s eyes a moment longer, before looking down as he exhaled. He swallowed and then looked as Ray walked around to open his door for him. “Sir?” Ray called, from behind Cassidy’s back. Cassidy didn’t even turn around to look at Ray. He kept his eyes fixed on Hanzo. 

     Hanzo stepped forward. The first step was the hardest. But now that he was moving, he knew that he couldn’t stop. Stopping meant hesitation. Hesitation meant that he would end up telling Cassidy everything. Telling Cassidy anything meant that he would lose his resolve. No. His time at Overwatch had come to an end. His time with Cole Cassidy had come to an end. 

     Hanzo kept walking. He walked in a straight line, until his shoulders lined up with Cassidy’s. And then he stopped for just a moment. Hanzo faced straight forward. Cassidy faced straight forward. Neither man looked at the other. Neither man turned. They were ships, passing each other at sea.  

     Then Hanzo stepped forward again, and approached the car. He put his briefcase in the trunk first, and then secured his luggage. Once his things were secured, he stole a quick glance at Cassidy. Cassidy hadn’t moved. He stood now with his back to Hanzo, as the cigar smoke blew past the brim of his hat like an old-fashioned chimney. Hanzo quickly made his way back to the passenger side. 

     He stepped into the vehicle and tucked his legs in as Ray closed the door. He looked out of the backseat and at Cassidy now. The cowboy remained unmoved, standing in the same place with his back turned as Ray moved around to the driver’s side. Ray climbed into the car. “Ready to go to the airport, sir?”  

     “Yes,” Hanzo said, keeping his eyes on Cassidy. Hanzo didn’t know what he wanted Cassidy to do. He didn’t know what he expected Cassidy to do. But he didn’t expect him to just stand there the way that he was. Cassidy’s serape caught the wind, but he stayed right where he was, even as the car shifted into drive. 

     Hanzo turned to face forward as the car pulled off. He could feel his heart seizing in his chest, as if he’d begun a random bout of internal bleeding. He closed his eyes as his hands shook, and then he stilled them, reminding himself of who he was. He looked onward as the landscape around him blurred into memory, but curiosity got the better of him. He turned one last time to see if Cassidy had left. 

     At this distance he was nothing more than a dot. Nothing more than what could’ve been called a floater in Hanzo’s eye. But Hanzo would know that silhouette from three miles away. Cassidy was standing right there. 

     Right where he left him. 

Chapter Text

     Being back in Japan felt bittersweet. It was great to be back where things just made sense. Where shared restrooms and public transportation were quiet and sanitary, and everyone spoke Japanese. He appreciated how people interacted with each other with a sense of decency and respect. But Hanzo couldn’t deny the roots that he’d allowed to take soil at the Gibraltar base. Even though he was home, this didn’t feel like home anymore. 

     After his departure from the airport, he stayed for a while at a cheap hotel, until he found discreet lodgings in Chiba. He didn’t have much when he left, and so he didn’t have much to bring back, making due with a cheap futon and the basic utensils for cooking and cleaning. He stayed in a one bedroom apartment that he kept as lightly furnished as possible. But the absence of furnishings and decor made his computer set-up stick out like a sore thumb. 

     He sat at his desk, reaching out to his old contacts on the web, knowing that he would need to find work sooner rather than later. He had enough saved to sustain him for a while, but it was hard starting from scratch again, and unless he wanted to be an eighty year old assassin, he needed to start taking lucrative jobs, and then laundering them through an unassuming enterprise so that he could rest easy. He looked down at his calendar, his fortieth birthday approaching much faster than he would like it to.

     Hanzo sighed, but then felt the rumble of his stomach. In pursuit of lucrative assignments, he had neglected to properly care for himself, and his abdomen was certain to lodge an articulated complaint. He went to the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients to make himself a bowl of quick ramen, preparing an egg, some of the spicy pork that he had from the day before, and a good helping of seaweed. As he prepared his aromatics, his mind wandered. 

     He knew that he hadn’t exactly made himself easy to reach. In fact, if he had received any messages, it would mean that he had been compromised. But he couldn’t deny the part of himself that yearned for updates on Cole Cassidy. As he chopped with his knife, his mind wandered, flashing back to the way his eyebrows knotted up on his forehead in betrayal. His mind replayed the look in Cassidy’s eye, when Hanzo walked away from the one thing that had brought him continued happiness. 

     He sighed, as his wisdom reminded him to set the knife aside for a moment before he chopped off his thumb. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, convincing himself that he had done the right thing. His time with Cassidy was entertaining, but it was nothing more than a physical trist prolonged by proximity. His focus would be better devoted to the rage he felt, when his hands strangled his brother’s neck. It was a sin he would have to atone for all over again. 

     A notification chimed on his computer with the alert of a return message. Hanzo turned off the kitchen stove and walked back to his room to check the notification. The response came from Nezumi; his contact from the last mission that he took in Russia, before he abandoned his life as a freelance mercenary to join his so-called brother at Overwatch. Hanzo opened the message, reading the transmission in Japanese. His contact referred to him with his former call sign - Okami, the lone wolf.

     Message : << Mr. Okami, It has been a long time since I received the honor of your attention. Thank you for looking kindly upon me again, as I have longed for the reignition of our friendship. Your absence was noticed, and you were sorely missed by us here at the dinner table. But if you would like to join us for dinner, we can set a place for you. We would simply need you to RSVP within the next seventeen hours. Please forgive the urgency of response. It is a rather complex dish that we are arranging for tomorrow’s supper. We hope to hear from you again soon. ~Nezumi>>

     Hanzo read the message, understanding the hidden meanings behind the supposed dinner invitation. His contact spoke in riddles, in order to conceal his true intention in wordplay inadmissible as evidence in a court of law. Nezumi had a job for him, but he would need to claim it, and quickly, or it would go to a competitor. Nezumi had been the only contact who had responded thus far. He needed to jump on this opportunity. He responded right away, his fingers clicking across his keyboard.

     Message : <<Mr. Nezumi, for the rudeness of my sudden departure, and the silence of my prolonged sabbatical, I offer my sincerest apologies. It is with humility that I ask to reserve a seat at your table for tomorrow’s supper, so that I might once again dine in good company. If the inconvenience would place you under duress, I would be more than happy to simply attend the next dinner. Either way you decide, I am honored to remain a guest at the dinner table. Thank you as always for the invitation ~Okami>>

     Hanzo sent off the acceptance of the mission, and waited at his computer for the notification to come back. It wasn’t long before he heard the chime of another response. Instead of a drafted message, he received coordinates. The mission briefing was most likely encrypted into a data file that he would have to retrieve in person, in order to absolve his contact of any culpability should the mission fail. But it wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let it. 

     Hanzo took down the coordinates and then typed them into his GPS. It was a hand-off location. He took down the address, memorizing the route just in case. He gathered his supplies, wrapping his fists and fingers to avoid leaving fingerprints, wearing a mask to cover his visage - feigning sick - and pulling his hair up into a beanie to appear like an ordinary citizen. He walked to the bathroom, looking himself over in the mirror. 

     A conversation played out in his mind. His time with Overwatch saw him taking non-lethal work whenever necessary. His targets had shifted from real people with real blood and real organs, to machines. It wasn’t that he couldn’t kill again. Some dark part of him understood that killing for him was like riding a hoverbike for anyone else. But the weight of the realization made him check in with himself just the same. 

     He braced himself and stepped out with purpose. After reaching into the closet for his trademark jacket, he pulled up his hood and shut down his computer. He grabbed his briefcase and then made his way to his apartment window, opening it and looking about to make sure the coast was clear. Once he was certain no one was watching, he vaulted out of his apartment and made his way along the winding streets of Chiba.

*****

     The crisp evening air cut the skin at the corners of his eyes. They were the only part of him left exposed to the elements. He was covered from head to toe everywhere else, in a skin-tight cyber suit for optimal performance. Save of course for his eyes, and the hair that he kept tied in its top-knot. It was his dignified signature. 

     The mission from Nezumi came to him in an old-school encryption. Anyone who wasn’t a member of the dynasty crime syndicates wouldn’t have been able to decode the assignment. But for him, the mission couldn’t be any clearer. There was a shipment at the Kanezaka bay that needed to leave the docks safely tonight to assure the distribution of product. According to the mission report, a recurring interference had delayed the last few shipments, so it was of dire importance that this one happen without a hitch. Protection assignments weren’t his usual job of choice, but this was about re-establishing his credit as a mercenary. He needed to be certain this went off without a hitch. 

     Hanzo quietly patrolled the shipment container yard, weaving between large trailers, and bounding up over them to get an aerial point of view. He placed sonar trackers around the area. If anything were to cross the perimeter of his tracker, he would have infrared sight. For now it was just a matter of keeping his head on a constant pivot, and his eyes in every direction. The dock workers moved in predictable patterns, so it would be easy for him to distinguish who belonged here, and who didn't. For now, the coast was clear. 

     Hanzo surveyed the area once more, before stretching and making his way to the high ground. A high vantage point would give him the best angle to keep a constant eye on the shipyard, and give him a moment to sync with his surveillance gear. As he climbed, he passively channeled the hard light of his tattoo, just to give his mind somewhere to focus. Lack of focus meant that his mind would wander. And it most often wandered to the thought-trains of Cole Cassidy. 

     Once he reached the crane top, he stood on its ledge and looked down upon the world beneath him. It was a view fit for a photograph, the way that the evening sun glowed as it slowly disappeared beyond the shoreline. The remnants of its light glinted along the rough rusted exteriors of the shipment containers, reflecting in the pavement and bouncing off of the water, back into the pools of his eyes. It was beautiful. 

     More beautiful still, was the voice that came to his ear, serpentine and seductive, telling him that he wouldn’t survive a fall from this height. He could just jump, and end all of this foolishness once and for all. That would silence the ache in his heart for good. He could seek out Cole in the afterlife, if there was one. But if there were any justice in the heavens, and if he’d garnered any favor, then his preference would have him fade to dust. He just wanted everything to stop.

     But death would be too kind for him. He hadn’t earned its relief - quite the contrary. Even in his attempts to right his past wrongs with Overwatch, he had only added to the tally of failures that he’d amassed since his father had passed, and he’d stepped into his role as head of the family. Even in doing himself the kindness of not counting his mistakes from before his time as head, the numbers simply weren’t on his side. All he could do now was bear the weight of his mistakes, and live the rest of his life joyless and bereft. 

     A trace of moisture threatened his eyes. Hanzo bit it back bitterly, and steeled himself in the purpose of his mission. He dropped to a squat, conserving his energy for the night’s watch. The weight of his penance made it hard for him to remain on his feet, but he would endure as he always had. It was better this way. They were better off without him. 

     He emptied his mind, steadying himself into the embrace of gray tranquility. The time passed by as he tried to keep all channels clear - mental and radio. The sky darkened into the evening’s melancholy, as the stars slipped around the cover of the clouds. Hanzo wondered if perhaps he was hired prematurely. There hadn’t been so much as a peep. But that made no difference. He would man his station either way. 

*****

FLASHBACK

     

     Hanzo kept his face stoic and unreadable, as he approached the front of the room. All eyes were on him, as he walked the long and dramatic march from the aisle to center stage. But he kept his own line of vision forward in staunch determination, his steps perfectly even and graceful, as the clan-elder announced his ascension to head of the Shimada family. This was the ceremonial commencement of his tenure as oyabun.  

     He held out hope that his father would announce his retirement and hand over the organization to him in trust, but ease into a position where he could rest and recover, and be relied upon as a source of wisdom. Those were the hopes of his inner child, which he made sure to silence the minute that Genji told him of his father’s untimely demise. A quiet voice in the back of his mind reminded him that this too was his fault. But he drowned it out for now, keeping his balance as he climbed the wooden stairs. 

     He stooped down, kneeling in his blue and white ceremonial robes. His hair was pulled into a top-knot so tight it tugged at his hairline when he bowed his head. The clan elder reached for his hand, and Hanzo reached out to take it with performative showmanship. As the clan elder held his hand in place, he stood to his feet and drew his Katana from its sheath. He rested the blade on the shoulder seam of Hanzo’s haori. Hanzo thought to himself that the blade would be better suited at his neck. 

     Then in a flash, the fabric of Hanzo's sleeves were cut from their stitching, drifting to the ground like fallen leaves. Hanzo’s bare arm and dragon tattoo were on full display for all in attendance of his promotion. From this day forward, when in the company of his fellow yakuza , his tattoo would have to remain on display as a token of his authority. The sleeves of his shirts would need to be removed, just as his ceremonial robes were cut in honorable asymmetry. The dragons etched into his arm bore the weight of an emperor’s crown, and his subordinates needed to observe the tattoo and him with respect. Even if he was only a man of twenty-two, commanding people twice his age. 

     The clan elder called for a moment of silence in observance of the late Sojirou, per Hanzo’s request. The room fell still, as the elder and Hanzo lit incense of remembrance in his name, akin to that which was lit at his father’s funeral. Hanzo thought to say a silent prayer in his mind, but that same quiet voice reminded him that he didn’t deserve to. Besides, it would be a disservice. If his father had done his job in preparing him for the role, then leaning on him for strength now would be needless. He needed to honor his father’s work by becoming the family head he was meant to be, and standing on his own two feet. 

     The moment of silence ended, and Hanzo looked out among the faces that stared at him in awe. His eyes swiftly landed on Genji’s face. His brother’s expression was vague and weighed with grief and mourning. On his darkest days, when the weight of his position seemed too heavy to lift, Hanzo would often daydream of this day. It was the greatest honor that he would ever receive in his lifetime. But neither of his parents were with him, his brother had no doubt succumbed to vices, and Yuka was nowhere to be seen. Absolutely everything was wrong. 

     Hanzo only paid Genji a moment’s mind, but then looked up and away at nothing in particular. His emotions closed off behind a wall of titanium determination. As the clan elder said his final words in support of Hanzo’s ascension, Hanzo cleared his mind, already planning the ways in which he would reform the syndicate. There was a pain in him, for how empty and joyless this day was, but that was of no importance. What mattered now were the days to come. 

     He would be better than his father ever was. There was no other option.

*****

PRESENT DAY 

     The sound of footsteps came across Hanzo’s sonar detection in the black of night. His ears perked and his eyes flashed immediately to the computer screen, seeing a group of people dressed as animals, and carrying various equipment. One of which appeared to be a turtle, wearing what he assumed was a computer in the style of his shell. He looked at the other cameras, catching a glimpse of various other animal masks. But one by one, his scanners were shut down, presumably by the infiltrator’s ammunition. Hanzo turned off his security feed and cracked his neck. It was time to perform his duty. He rolled his shoulders out, before taking a dive into the shipyard’s shadows. 

     Hanzo moved like a specter, hugging the walls and corners as his feet arced and pointed in a way to completely silence his steps. Using the reflections from the lamplights and beacons, he followed the shadow-play of the light’s reflection to find his first target. Whoever they were, they were trained, but they were an amateur. He could tell by the feeble attempt to reduce the pressure of their steps. 

     One of the infiltrators approached, and Hanzo let him walk right by, before wrapping his arms around the infiltrator’s neck, and choking them down into a sleeper hold. He had subdued the infiltrator non-lethally, leaving them unconscious. Whoever they were, they were dressed in the mask of a Tanuki , with obviously pilfered armor-plating, and a wide-brimmed jingasa. Once the infiltrator was subdued, Hanzo bound their hands and feet together with a cable from his gear, and picked up the rifle they dropped. He unloaded the gun, only leaving one bullet, and then fired it up into the air before tossing it aside, and retreating into the shadows once more. 

     As predicted, two more infiltrators came to check on the sound they’d heard, falling into Hanzo’s trap. He eyed the two of them; one dressed as what looked to be a falcon, and the other an omnic in the style of a girl’s hinamatsuri doll. Hanzo knocked his arrows, firing a sticky resin shot at the falcon, binding them to the nearby shipping container, and an EMP arrow at the omnic, forcing her into an immediate system shutdown. Hanzo reopened his surveillance technology, but a brief look over the cameras showed that it was being tampered with. This let him know that at least one of them was a hacker. He would have to do this the traditional way. 

     He vanished into the darkness once more, crouching low and watching the area around him for tells of enemy action. The lights betrayed his own shadow, so he stopped in case others were tracking him the same way that he had been tracking them. There was a momentary pause, but from the corner of his eye, he saw something hurling at him at lightning speed. He ducked just in time, as a kunai pierced the hull of the shipyard container he was next to. He looked up to see a figure disappearing from a high-ground scaffolding. 

     Hanzo broke into a silent sprint, darting across the shipping ground as fast as his legs could carry him. He quickly scaled the scaffolding like a fireman, making his way to the top and searching for the assailant that just disappeared. His eyes and ears picked up no trace of the attacker, but in the distance he saw two other infiltrators; the one he’d seen earlier in the style of a turtle, and the other wearing demon horns and dumb enough to expose his entire face in the security cameras. Hanzo knocked a blunted concussive arrow and fired it at the demon boy, watching and listening as his body hit the ground with a dumb thud. 

     The turtle grew suspicious hearing the noise, and Hanzo quickly knocked another arrow to sate his curiosity, but from the corner of his eyes he caught another shadow and spun around just in time to counter a palm-strike head on! The attacker was short in stature and thin as a rail, with a fox mask over their face. He exchanged blows with them, blocking swift powerful kicks and coming back in with strikes of his own. This one seemed to have a bit more skill than the others. If they weren’t the leader, they were definitely the best fighter. 

     Hanzo launched a powerful palm strike into the fox’s sternum, sending them back as they grunted with the impact. The fox threw two kunai, forcing him to dodge, before dropping a smoke bomb. Hanzo covered his eyes in case of blinding fumes and listened. There were no footsteps, so he was caught off guard when he was pushed off of the scaffolding to fall! He flailed, catching a railing with a grunt, and swinging on it before landing on his feet. He looked up to see the fox fleeing toward the ship! 

     Hanzo hooked his knee around the scaffolding beam and knocked an arrow, aiming it just past the fox’s trajectory. He fired it in an intentional arc over their head, and the fox continued to run as anticipated. Then the arrow released another batch of sticky resin, trapping the fox’s feet in place! 

     Hanzo approached as the fox struggled to pull their feet out of the resin. The fox reached into their component pouch and grabbed a kunai , throwing it at Hanzo with deadly aim. Hanzo shrinked back and caught it midair, before hurling it right back at the fox and catching the strap of their mask. A furious girl’s face was revealed to him. She was Japanese, and familiar to him in a way that he couldn’t place. That was until he realized that she bore a striking resemblance to the woman that taught him everything he knew about swordplay. It had been years since he’d seen her, and when last he had, she was still a simple child. Often chasing Genji around the estate.  

     <<...Kiriko?>> Hanzo asked in Japanese. The girl focused her eyes at him, not sure who it was she was seeing. But before she could finish her train of thought, the deafening sound of a ship’s horn blared, and both of them flinched from the noise. Hanzo turned back to see the ship departing as intended. His mission had been completed to a success. But he had more pressing concerns. He turned back to face his master’s daughter.

     <<Kiriko, what are you doing her->> Hanzo began, but he saw her weaving hand signs. Then a blinding light flashed from behind her, with the high pitched howl of a fox. Hanzo shielded his eyes again, and when he opened them she was gone. 

Chapter Text

     <<Welcome!>> 

     As Hanzo walked into the Hananoki restaurant, he was greeted by a very well dressed hostess. He had been to the establishment in his youth and remembered that it was one of few places in Japan that upheld and insisted upon an all-human staff, rather than integrating with Omnics. The years had certainly passed, but it seemed that the business politic remained unchanged, as there wasn’t a cybernetic in sight. It was a testament to the restaurant’s wealth and prestige. 

      Hanzo nodded and affirmed the greeting with his own. The instructions from Nezumi were clear. He uttered the required pass-phrase. <<I have a reservation for breakfast.>> The hostess nodded and pulled up an actual paper ledger, with a pen. 

     <<Under what name, sir?>> The hostess asked, tilting her head as she pulled up the restricted roster of clientele. She was slight, feminine, and thin as a rail, but she remained the barrier to entry for the dining area. 

     <<Hiroto Shota,>> Hanzo replied, giving her the name that Nezumi specified in his message for the payout. In-person hand-offs were never his preferred method. But Nezumi made him an offer he simply couldn’t refuse, to the tune of a complimentary bonus in yen, and the promise of more work. 

     <<We’ve been expecting you Mr. Shota. Right this way,>> The hostess said, as she bowed slightly and gestured with her hand. Then she proceeded down the hallway toward a private room in the back. Hanzo followed her, assessing the area around them as they made their way to his table. The decor had an outdoor aesthetic contained within the confines of the walls, as a cherry blossom tree protruded and stretched through the center of the room, reaching over the tables. The people in the restaurant were all well to do, and dressed in the appropriate finery. They kept their heads down in quiet conversation. No one was watching him. 

     He was guided to a private area in the back of the restaurant, where he sat at a large and vacant table. Despite this enormous setting, there were only two chairs - one with his alias on a name card, and the other blank and nameless. The hostess pulled out his seat for him, and he took it. <<Your meal has already been ordered for you. We will have that out shortly,>> she said. Hanzo nodded at her and watched as she left. 

     His eyes darted around the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. No explosives, no cameras, nothing that would warrant any suspicion. He kept sensory technology on him to scan for wiretaps, or alert him to unusual activity. But his devices remained unaffected. Either his benefactor was of an entirely different caliber, or they actually meant him no harm. The best course of action would be to wait, and remain ready to react. 

     He didn’t have to wait long. The restaurant staff brought out rolling trays and carts worth of food, setting the table with various elaborate dishes, ranging from miso soup to fresh grilled salmon. The dishes were cooked to photo-worthy perfection, and Hanzo’s mouth watered, though his outer visage remained unchanged. The servers took their bows and left him in privacy, leaving one dish still covered by its cloche. 

     Then all of the hairs on the back of Hanzo’s neck stood straight up, as a large Nigerian man walked into the private room with him. He wore a white blazer and a military-green button down that he left unbuttoned showing the cybernetics that were stitched into his chest. He paired these with pin-stripe black pants, accented by a red rose boutonniere and gold rings. Hanzo knew exactly who this man was. Though he was surprised to see that the legendary Doomfist had left his trademark arm behind. 

     <<My apologies for the delay. I had to settle another matter,>> Doomfist said, in perfect Japanese. <<I took the liberty of ordering a spread for us. You are under no expectation to eat everything. Please, help yourself to whatever you would like,>> he continued, grabbing his own plate and serving himself. Hanzo made no move. He just stared at the war-criminal. Doomfist had already taken up half of his own plate before finally looking up. <<Is the food not to your liking? I can have something else prepared.>> 

     <<What are you doing here, and where is Nezumi?>> Hanzo asked, his eyes narrowing as his grip instinctively felt for his collapsed bow. 

     Doomfist smiled and lowered his gaze. <<You’re armed, as any smart man would be. But I assure you that I have nothing but respect for you and your honorable family. Our meeting here will not result in violence. I would ask that you remove your hand from your weapon,>> he said, as he continued to set his own plate. 

     <<And if I do not?>> Hanzo asked. Doomfist pursed his lips and shrugged. He reached into his water glass with his hand, pinching an ice cube between his index finger and thumb. He held it up in front of him with demonstrative showmanship. 

     “Widow?” Doomfist asked, and suddenly the ice cube burst into particles! Hanzo tensed for impact and rocked backward in his chair to spring to the balls of his feet. That was when he saw that a bullet had been embedded into the stone wall to his right, and a perfect circle had been shot through the paper walls. It wasn’t until then that Hanzo realized that he couldn’t hear anyone else. What should have sounded like broken glass and a bedlam of panicked screams, instead sounded an awful lot like eerie silence. All of the guests and staff who were there originally had since cleared out. They were entirely alone, and he was at the problem end of a sniper’s rifle. A talented sniper at that. 

     Hanzo removed his hand from his bow, putting them on the table where Doomfist could see them. The man smiled and nodded. <<Thank you. Now then, before we discuss your payment, I was hoping that you and I could reach an accord,>> Doomfist said, taking the first bite of his food. 

     <<You want me to betray Overwatch, I assume? Give you intel on their next plan of action?>> Hanzo asked, narrowing his eyes again. Doomfist laughed mockingly. 

     <<You insult me. That monkey and his meddlesome miscreants are exactly where I want them to be. No, Mr. Shimada, I need people that I can trust in key positions. You see, I’m something of a student when it comes to powerful players in global affairs, and one of my favorite areas of study remains the efficiency and custom with which the Yakuza conduct themselves. If my sources were correct, you were promoted to oyabun when you were only twenty two? Making you one of the youngest in your family’s lineage?>> Doomfist asked, eating his section of steak with his chopsticks. 

     <<This is true,>> Hanzo conceded, figuring it best to play nice with the terrorist for the time being.

     <<My sources also confirm that you were the last of your line, before the Shimada dynasty was overtaken by the Hashimoto,>> Doomfist said, and Hanzo felt a familiar twist in his stomach. One more thing he needed to remember to blame himself for. Doomfist continued before Hanzo could wallow. <<But I see you remain here, and in perfect health. Could it be that you simply fell upon hard times? Was there a coup to unseat you as oyabun ? Why did your family fall from its pedestal? The tiger is mighty, but it is a creature of the earth. The dragon resides safely in the heavens, where it is intended to be untouchable.>> 

     Hanzo paused and took a deep breath. Then he at last leaned forward and served himself a plate of food before speaking. <<Dragons are mighty, it is true. But they can be felled.>> 

     <<By the tiger?>> Doomfist asked

     <<By the tiger. By other dragons. But most often by their own pride,>> Hanzo said, answering Doomfist’s question exactly as far as he intended. Doomfist seemed to be satisfied with the answer. He smiled and nodded. 

     <<I see. Well as I’m sure you know, I happen to be one part of an up and coming global movement. As I said earlier, I need people that I can trust in key positions as we usher the planet into a new era. My associates believed that the tiger would make an excellent addition to our retinue, but I find the beast mad with its own power, and limited in its vision. It appears a cat in its reflection, but it is not unlike the serpent that eats its own tail,>> Doomfist said, still making his way through his breakfast. 

     <<The Hashimoto are my enemy, but they are a clan as old and as noble as my own. Yet you refer to them with insult, and trivialize their dominion. You seek me out to reinstate me and my house atop the Hashimoto,>> Hanzo said, discovering the motive behind Doomfist’s intentions. 

     <<I do,>> Doomfist confirmed, meeting Hanzo’s gaze. 

     <<And in exchange, you expect me to be a more obedient lap-dog than my counterparts?>> Hanzo asked, and Doomfist smirked. <<I fear you mistake me. Flying in the heavens, or walking the earth on two feet, a dragon is a dragon. Not a lap-dog. You would do well to remember that,>> Hanzo threatened.

     <<Quite the contrary. What you just said proves my point. I am one man, and like all men I have my limitations. I need a team of individuals with a vision for themselves as well as a vision for the world as a whole. To see that which I cannot, and do that which I am unable. I’m not asking you to be my pet dragon. I’m asking you to join me at the dinner table as an honored and permanent attendee.>> Doomfist said, in reference to the encrypted message that Hanzo had received a few days ago. Hanzo’s eyes widened in comprehension. 

     << You’re Nezumi… >> Hanzo said. Doomfist smiled, his white teeth gleaming in contrast to his dark skin. 

     <<I thought you might have some trepidation, given your tryst with Overwatch. But now you understand, Mr Okami; you’ve been working for talon for years .>> Doomfist finished his plate, and blotted his mouth neatly with a cloth napkin. He stood up and removed the silver cloche from its tray. Stacks of yen as thick as bricks were revealed, presumably in the form of Hanzo’s payment from what he could eyeball. But his attention honed in on the communicator that rested atop the money. A dark counterpart to the one that he’d given back to Winston not even a month ago.

     <<This meal was delicious, but I regret that I do have other business to attend. Everything here has been paid for, so please help yourself. The staff have been instructed not to return until you take your leave of the restaurant. Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Shimada.>> Doomfist concluded his message with a bow, before straightening his jacket, and walking out of the room with a smooth even gait. 

     Hanzo sat still, waiting and listening for the sound of Doomfist leaving the restaurant. His eyes looked again to the bullet that was embedded in the stone, and then at the bullet hole in the paper screen. He took a deep breath, before reaching to collect his payment. The yen was all there, and all real. But it was the communicator that held the prolonged attention of his gaze, as the sound of silence provoked him to madness. 

*****

     

     He could swear the communicator was staring right back at him. Even now as he sat in his apartment safely removed from Doomfist and that sniper, he engaged in his staring contest with the inanimate object. He played music in the background to try and stifle the voices in his head that argued among themselves. It was a valiant attempt, but there was no volume setting loud enough to suit the task. 

     It felt unforgivable to even consider. It’s just that he knew the truth. He could do it. He could restore his family from the ashes, and rebuild it anew. He could rebuild it better. Not only could he wipe clean the slate of his errors during his reign, but once Talon had outlived their usefulness, he knew exactly and precisely how he would take them out, and erase any affiliation with the organization altogether. 

     The serpents of his mind hissed at him with agreeance. It was a win-win scenario by every stretch of his imagination. His family would be restored to honor. He could serve as a mole within Talon, quietly feeding Overwatch everything that they needed to be the heroes at the end of this farce. He might even be able to smuggle Reyes over to Cassidy, if the cowboy’s suspicions were correct and Reyes and the Reaper were in fact one in the same. This gave him a much needed sense of direction. 

     So why now, did he delay in hesitation? Why now, was he sitting here not listening to the music that he intentionally played, and staring at this communication link as if waiting for it to strike? Hanzo breathed sharply through his nostrils, an equally loud voice in his mind chasing the serpents away, telling him not to do that which made the most sense to him right now. But whenever given the floor to speak, that voice in his mind was drowned out by the others of the consensus that joining Talon made entirely too much sense. 

     And so he sat. At least until a knock came to his door, snapping him out of the chaotic caucus of his mind. He made no move, his eyes drifting from the door to his bow in the corner. The knock came again. He slid over to the corner to get his bow, stashing it within arm’s reach just in case, but then opting for a knife from his kitchen block instead. He glided to the door soundlessly, looking out of the peephole. It was being covered. The knock came again. 

     Hanzo tightened his grip around the knife handle, and then yanked the door open quickly. He was posed to strike, but the recognition of Kiriko standing outside of his apartment gave him a moment’s pause. She arched one eyebrow, and then poked her head around his shoulder cartoonishly. <<Wow. You were going to do me in with a meat cleaver?>> She asked mockingly. 

     Hanzo scoffed and turned away from her, putting the knife back into the block. She invited herself into his apartment, and then closed the door, taking off her shoes and then looking around the room. <<Kiriko…>> Hanzo said, looking her over in perplexion. When last he saw her, she barely came to his knee in height. <<How did you find me?>>

     << Oh no , Shimada . Don’t worry about yesterday at all. You didn’t hurt me - I’m fine ,>> She replied sarcastically, narrowing her eyes at him and then rolling them in irritation. Hanzo’s patience for her was thinning by the second. 

     <<What are you doing here?>> He asked, wanting to keep her on topic. Few people touched his nerves quite like Genji, but Kiriko could give his brother a run for his money on occasion. 

     <<Trying to determine if I have to kill you or not,>> she said, as if that wasn’t a blatant threat. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed. She continued to look around his apartment. <<Your place is so boring, dude. All white walls? Are you serious?  Ever heard of paintings? Would a plant kill you?>> Hanzo folded his arms, unamused with his present company. 

     <<And why exactly would you have to kill me?>> Hanzo asked, wanting her out of his apartment, and his life altogether, actually. 

     <<Well you see, my friends and I were trying to stop a Hashimoto shipment last night, when low and behold we’re stopped by some ridiculously difficult cyber-ninja who wasn’t at all listed in our intel. Imagine my surprise when I find out that this cyber ninja is none other than Hanzo Shimada himself - the former head of the family that my family served. You of all people should know how dangerous the Hashimoto are. So why exactly are you working for them now?>> She asked, her arms folded across her own chest, mimicking him. Mocking him.

     <<You had no business being there,>> Hanzo said dismissively, turning away from her and busying himself with the dishes that he’d been neglecting. 

     <<What happens in Kanezaka is my business ,>> She replied. Hanzo wasn’t able to bite back the condescending laugh that leapt from his throat. 

     <<You talk tough for someone leading a gang that was defeated by one man.>> Hanzo taunted. She shrugged, completely unaffected by his candor. 

     <<We have tabs on all of the high level threats that work for the Hashimoto, and they were all otherwise detained. That was supposed to be a quick sabotage. We weren’t expecting the interference - a mistake we won’t make again,>> Kiriko said, moving away from him and walking to his bedroom. Hanzo already knew that his computer was locked, so he didn’t bother telling her to leave. 

     <<You should be thankful it was me, and not another. You’re a young lady now. It isn’t for you to be out here playing crime-lord. You and those rookies are only alive because I decided against killing you. Anyone else would have solved the Hashimoto’s problem permanently.>> Hanzo chided, finishing the last of the dishes he needed to wash and putting it on the drying rack.

     <<Yeah whatever. Believe that if you want to. You still haven’t answered my question,>> Kiriko said, leaning on the doorframe of his bedroom. Hanzo walked around the counter to face her.

     <<I’m a freelance mercenary now. I took a job from a former contact. I had no idea that the benefactor would be the Hashimoto, or else I wouldn’t have taken it.>> Hanzo shook his head with shame. He knew that his ancestors would spurn him if they could see him now, playing soldier for their sworn enemy.  

     <<So the blaring tiger insignias on everything wasn’t an obvious hint?>>  Kiriko quipped, and Hanzo came to understand that every other word out of her mouth was going to be laced with sarcasm. She was at that age. What a joy. 

     <<My mission was to protect the product. Not to inspect it,>> Hanzo said, entirely exhausted with her. 

     <<Oh that’s right, you were the goody two-shoes who always did what he was told,>> Kiriko said. That one stung. She continued. <<Well then, the good news is I don’t have to kill you. Just tell me where to find your contact, and I’ll let you get back to whatever all of this is.>> Kiriko said. 

     <<For the last time, you’re out of your league,>> Hanzo warned. Kiriko laughed. 

     <<That’s rich, coming from you.>>

     <<I beg your pardon?>> Hanzo scoffed.

     <<My family was subordinate to yours. We were there the day you were sworn in as oyabun , remember? All that talk about a good leader putting their people first, and look what happened? The Shimada are nothing more than a memory and a yearly expense when we visit your graves. I’m out of my league? You lost yours entirely.>> 

     <<You’re too young to understand,>> Hanzo said dismissively. 

     <<You’re too old to care,>> Kiriko fired back and Hanzo recoiled. She continued. <<I’ll never understand how you killed your own brother, or how you let your people be chased from their homes. Our streets were bathed in blood and carved by tiger claws. But here you are, fit as a fiddle, not doing anything about it. So now I’m here to do what my family has always done, and clean up your mess. So save us both the trouble, and tell me who hired you.>> 

     <<To what end?>> Hanzo asked, and Kiriko paused, not having another rapid-fire witty retort. He thought as much. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. <<If I told you who my contact was, my contact would label me as an untrustworthy unit and I’d be out of work. If the Hashimoto is what you want, why not go to their compound and handle them yourself? You and I both know where it is. It’s where it’s always been.>> She scoffed and scowled. <<It’s not that simple, is it?>>

     <<It could be, if I didn’t have to do it all myself,>> Kiriko fired back. Hanzo smirked mockingly. 

     <<You can be the victim, or you can be the villain. But you can’t be both. So which is it, Kiriko? Are you Kanezaka’s protector? Or do you still need this fallen relic to protect you?>> 

     Kiriko laughed under her breath and walked past him, making her way back to the front door. She reached for Hanzo’s bow, and his eyes narrowed at her once more, but she picked something off of it, and threw it at him with a flick of her wrist. He caught it in a fist. <<You should be careful, Shimada. You’re getting sloppy with age,>> She said, setting the bow back down and walking out of the door. She closed it behind her as she left. 

     Hanzo opened his fist to see what it was that she threw at him. He was holding the receiving end of a tracker.

*****

FLASHBACK 

      <<How are these, sir?>> One of the servants knelt before Hanzo, bearing a cup of sake . He took it slowly, bringing the dish to his lips and tasting the offering. The sweet taste made his mouth frown with disgust. But he knew that his brother always preferred his drinks sickeningly sweet. 

     <<That will do. You are dismissed,>> Hanzo said, waiving the servant off dismissively, never bothering to look them in the eye. The servant simply bowed, and quickly made their way out of the room. Hanzo sat cross legged on the floor at the dinner table, wearing far too much fabric to even be remotely comfortable. His ceremonial robes dragged around whenever he moved, so he did his best to keep still and maintain some small level of dignity. He fought the urge to look at his phone for the time. He knew well enough to know that Genji was late. It was something that he could just feel. But he would not chide Genji on this day. 

     He waited for what must have been another five minutes in the privacy of one of the palace dining halls. There was more empty space in the room, than furniture or decor. But the once full dynastic home of the Shimada had grown cold and silent with the passage of time. Sitting at long tables meters apart was too frequent a reminder, not that they dined together often anyway. But his head did tilt when the sight of Genji came into his periphery, also wearing his own ceremonial robes. The sleeve of his left arm had been removed, and his arm was wrapped in a healing gauze. Hanzo’s eyes widened and then he nodded. <<You actually managed to sneak up on me this time,>> Hanzo confessed. 

     <<You lie,>> Genji murmured back, making his way to the other end of the table opposite Hanzo. He stooped down and sat cross legged, fussing similarly with his own attire in visible annoyance. <<No one could sneak up on anyone wearing three entire comforters,>> Genji said sarcastically. Hanzo let a smirk come across his lips for a moment, but then he went back to his usual melancholic stoicism. 

     <<It was not my intent to burden you with the attire.>> Hanzo said with a layer of exhaustion. 

     <<Then why did you insist on it?>> Genji asked in annoyance. 

     <<Because it is tradition. You have successfully completed your labors and received your dragon tattoo. Your twentieth birthday has passed. I know that things have been strained between us as of late…>> Hanzo said, trailing off as his emotions robbed him of the words he’d constructed in his head. 

     <<For multiple reasons,>> Genji added. Hanzo resisted the urge to decipher if that was meant as a slight or an acknowledgement of his own part in their strife. He just assumed it was the former and pushed it aside. 

     <<But I would never forgive myself if I did not do something for you on this day. It is what mother and father would have wanted,>> Hanzo said. Genji looked into his eyes, and Hanzo saw the sting of pain that he tried to hide. Hanzo averted his gaze, not ready to dive into this subject with Genji. Not yet. Not now. 

     Footsteps pressed into the wooden floors from outside of the paper doors, until they slid open at arrival. Servants came into the room, bringing forth several dishes and setting them neatly on the table between the two brothers. Hanzo had organized a small banquet in Genji’s honor, assembling all of Genji’s favorites - ramen, sushi, yakitori, onigiri, and dango . They left the dreaded bottle of sweet sake between them, before bowing and dismissing themselves quietly. 

     Hanzo looked across the table again to assess Genji’s reaction. He expected to see at least some degree of wonder. Maybe even a glimpse of the childish joy that his brother had been so famous for. But instead his lower lids creased with apprehension and seething suspicion. Hanzo’s shoulders sank as he asked himself in his mind what he had done wrong now? But Genji relieved him of his torment by speaking his thoughts. <<You did all of this just to insult me?>>

     <<Insult you?>> Hanzo asked.

     <<You had the servants plate and bowl Rikimaru Ramen , and dango from the convenience store? I can still smell the plastic from Wasabi Nami, which is no doubt where you got the sushi from.>> Genji said, his chest rising and falling as he spoke. His anger was blatant. <<You force me into these ridiculous garments, just to make me eat glorified takeout?>> 

     Hanzo swallowed. <<I had them fetch these because they are your favorites,>> he explained. Genji scoffed incredulously. 

     <<Do you remember what we did for your twentieth?>> Genji asked spitefully. The memory came back to Hanzo. Sojirou had erected a garden in Hanzo’s name, right there at the estate. His own private area, closed off to the rest of the palace and decorated in the style of a Heian shrine. They dined on the most extravagant steak and sake , sparing no yen in execution. To top it off, they were fed and entertained by beautiful courtesans. It was an evening of legend.  

     Hanzo grasped at his own pant legs. Thinking of it this way, this dinner did seem like a slight in comparison. He moved to speak, but Genji continued. <<You are still angry about Yuka. You do not talk about it, but I know you, and I know that you are. And I know that you blame me for what happened to father - >> Genji said, releasing the burdens he’d been harboring since that dreaded day. But Hanzo cut him off. 

     <<I do not,>> Hanzo said quickly and sternly. Stern enough to get Genji to stop for a moment. His brother’s eyes were burning with the threat of tears. Genji knew better than to actually cry, but the sight was enough to provoke Hanzo into action. He rose from his seated position and clapped twice. 

     A servant came from beyond the paper doors, bringing forth a long wooden rectangular box. Hanzo picked up the box, and the servant bowed before leaving. Hanzo walked over to Genji, kneeling down at his side and placing the box on the floor at his reach. Genji’s eyes narrowed. <<What is this? Another of your insults?>> 

     <<As I told you before, I had them assemble this dinner because it was composed of all of your favorites.>> 

     <<They were my favorites. I haven’t eaten like this since I was a child. It doesn’t surprise me that you still think of me as one, but I thought you would at least do me a courtesy on my twentieth. On your twentieth we dined on nothing but the best, because that’s what you wanted.>> 

     <<That’s what father wanted,>> Hanzo corrected. Genji sighed through his nostrils, honoring Hanzo’s often used trump card. He reached over in exasperation and opened the wooden box. He had no shortage of swords. There were weapons stashed in every nook and cranny of the estate, now that Hanzo was in command. But these weren’t regular swords. 

     It was an elegant matching pair of katana and wakizashi. The saya was a dark matte black with a rustic touch, to distinguish it amongst the many other swords that adorned the palace walls with the standard  high gloss lacquered finish, or the cybernetic blades they used on actual missions. Green dragons had been hand painted along their curvatures, climbing up to the hilt of the blade. Polished silver crested from the base of the saya, sprouting into a neat weaving of hand wraps ultimately secured by a dragon’s head pommel. 

     Genji looked at Hanzo, and then back down to the blade in disbelief. He gently lifted the katana from its place, and drew it. The blade sang a beautiful soprano as it unsheathed. His reflection was so pristine in the polished metal he could use it as a mirror. There was no denying the beauty and integrity of the craftsmanship. He closed it again. <<I cannot wield this.>> 

     <<You are not meant to. It is decorative and ceremonial. But you are twenty now. It is not for me to tell you what to do. You may do as you wish,>> Hanzo said, looking into his brother’s eyes.

     <<What use is a decorative sword? I mean…isn't it a little…cliche?>> Genji asked. It was another jab, but this one was at least playful. 

     <<A nest egg, amongst other things. That blade is a hand and fire forged antique. It isn’t printed or mass-produced so it’s one of a kind. If something happens to us and you need cash and an exit, it can be resold for up to fifteen billion yen. More, if you learn to properly negotiate,>> Genji’s jaw dropped as Hanzo spoke. <<I know that I must sire an heir. But if something were to happen to me, and you are promoted to oyabun , I want you to have options.>> Hanzo confessed, looking Genji in the eye to let his brother know that every word he said was said in earnest. 

     <<Nothing is going to happen to you,>> Genji said dismissively, putting the blade back into the box and restoring the top. 

     <<Would that I had your faith,>> Hanzo said mournfully, rising from his seat and turning his back on his brother. He made his way to the door. 

     <<...Wait.>> Genji said, and Hanzo stopped. He lingered for a moment, waiting for his brother to continue. <<You are leaving?>> Hanzo turned to look over his shoulder, casting Genji a smoldering glance. 

     <<Those blades are to be cherished and protected, but they are not my true gift. I give you that which I lack and covet more than anything else in this world. Freedom. You think this meal a slight, brother, but I truly meant this to be a celebration of your accomplishment. And also a prayer that even though today is your twentieth, it is my hope that you do not forget who you were. It is hard to find your way back.>> 

     A pause engulfed the area between them in an interruptive way. But Genji pushed it aside with his words. <<It is still my birthday celebration. You have to do what I say for once.>> Genji said. Hanzo pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, but then turned to face his brother fully. 

     <<What do you require, Sparrow?>> 

     <<Stay and finish dinner with me.>> Genji said. He looked up at Hanzo sternly. Hanzo looked back at him with a stunned confusion. But then he made his way back to his end of the table and sat. Genji awkwardly shuffled out of his seated position, and moved over to the side of the table, pouring himself a cup of sake, and then one for his brother. <<To mother and father,>> Genji said. 

     <<To you,>> Hanzo added. 

     <<To us,>> Genji corrected. Hanzo relented with a sigh. 

     <<To us.>> 

     They raised their cups, looking each other in the eye before drinking the rice wine. But the dinner continued on in mutually agreed silence.

Chapter Text

     He didn’t know why he lied to himself this way. He knew that he was awake, even though his eyes were closed and his body was still. He laid on his side with his back turned to the world, despite the nagging urge to get up and go to the bathroom to relieve himself. But the longer that his consciousness roamed untethered, the closer his thoughts caught up with him. And then he answered his own question. 

     He lied to himself because he knew that the minute that he truly woke up and walked to the bathroom, he would come face to face with that communicator once more. Then he would have to play another day’s game of ‘will he - won’t he?’ And it was easier for now to just sleep and not have to deal with it, or anything else. His pillow didn’t judge him. His bed didn’t ask anything of him. It was here and here alone, where he felt some sense of relief from the burdens that he bore. 

     But his bladder didn’t care for the state of his mental anguish. It demanded relief and satisfaction and threatened him in a way that made him think twice before calling its bluff. At last he flung back his comforter and sat up from his futon. He reset the sheets quickly, before pushing to his feet and walking over to the bathroom. The relief of relief shook away the remnants of his slumber, and as he looked himself in the eye in the mirror, he came face to face with the truth. 

     He was awake. And alive. And responsible for everything that went wrong in his life. Lines were beginning to set into his face. He hid it well, but his hair was thinning. The signs of stress and anguish were undeniable. He sighed as he washed his hands, and then his face, beginning his grooming to meet the day head on. 

     Before he even realized he’d finished, he was already back out in the living room, looking at the communicator Doomfist had left him. It was in the exact same spot, black and red in Talon’s design, in defiance of the neutral aesthetic of his otherwise empty apartment. He stared at it, and again he could swear that it was staring right back at him, calling him to the purpose that he had been prepared for, for his entire life. 

     He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. Then he remembered a trick his mother taught him when he was young to clear his mind. ‘ The dragon needs to breathe fire, or it will burn him from within.’ He took a deep breath and held it until he felt the furnace in his gut gather all of the necessary heat. And then he felt that energy slowly make its way up his chest and out of his throat in a powerful exhale. At that moment, everything slowed down. 

     With renewed clarity, he realized this wasn’t a decision that he should make alone. And he was only alone if he wanted to be alone. He went to his closet, dressing in casual clothing  and pulling his hair back into its usual topknot. He grabbed his gear and the dreaded communicator, and left, locking up behind himself. 

     It had been entirely too long since he had paid his respects, but he still knew what needed to be done. He stopped at the local convenience store, grabbing cleaning supplies in case the tombstone needed tending, and then bought a throw-away ticket for the train. The hours carried on without him as he stared out the window, looking at nothing in particular, but giving his eyes a resting place as he went over the pros and cons of his dilemma for the hundredth time. He didn’t snap out of his trance until the digital voice came overhead, telling him that he was approaching his stop. 

     He continued the rest of his journey on foot, making his way to the family cemetery beneath a cloudy gray sky. His steps slowed the closer that he came; his legs weighed with shame. How dare he come to his ancestors now? Now that he had ruined everything. Centuries of sacrifice and servitude. A dynasty with roots as old as Japan itself crumbled under his watch. It was no question what he should do. 

     But he marched onward anyway, approaching the cemetery at last. He bowed, as was custom, and uttered words to announce his arrival. And then he took a tentative step into the garden of the fallen. An immediate chill washed down his spine, letting him know that he was entirely unwelcome. He thought to turn around right there, but he ignored the nagging sensation, and instead set to work. 

     He dusted the tombstones, removing the excess dirt that had crept onto them with time, and then washed them gently with dish soap and water. To his fortune, the majority of his family had been cremated, and they shared tombstones, etching lists of names into the granite, so there were only so many to tend. Still, he felt the ache in his arms and back that came with a day’s work. 

     He stopped at last at the tomb that represented his direct line. His eyes landed on the names of his father, his mother, and Genji who had been falsely declared. He knelt down to his knees and filled the bowl in front of the tombstone with fresh water, before washing himself with it, and closing his eyes. In a moment of tranquility, he let himself leave his physical body. Ambient thoughts floated by in his mind as he communed with those who came before him, seeking their wisdom and guidance. 

     The wind blew, but it wasn’t an unwelcome chill like the one he’d received when he first arrived. This was more of a gentle caress, and he remembered to lower his shoulders and relax his brows. But that moment of ease was short lived, as the sound of footsteps snapped him back to his senses. He felt for his weapon and turned around to lay eyes on the trespasser. Genji had eliminated the Shimada elders who ordered his assassination. Who else would dare to trample upon such sacred ground? 

     <<Are you following me?>> Hanzo asked in blatant annoyance. 

     <<Don’t flatter yourself,>> Kiriko said, approaching after bowing at the entrance. <<Seeing you the other day reminded me that it’s been too long since I paid my respects.>>

     <<Your family is branch. Your bloodline isn’t buried here,>> Hanzo reminded her disdainfully. 

     <<After Genji died, and you gave up, my grandmother and I were the ones who tended these graves. You may have forgotten us, but we never forgot you,>> Kiriko said. She knelt at his side, ignoring him as if he weren’t there, and reached over to wash her hands in the bowl of fresh water. Then she closed her eyes and held up her hand as she assumed her meditation. Hanzo closed his eyes as well, happy that she at least understood some manner of tradition. 

     He made the attempt to commune again, but try as he may, his focus was broken. His connection was severed. All that he could do was think to himself how much more sense it made to take up Doomfist on his offer. Perhaps this was his answer? It wasn’t unlike his parents and grandparents to ice him out when they were displeased. They behaved that way when they walked the earth. What would make them any different on the other side? 

     <<You were never my favorite,>> Kiriko said plainly, and Hanzo scoffed. Was he supposed to care? <<I don’t think I was ever yours either. We were too far apart in age for either of us to really matter to each other. But I do know you, Shimada. And I know what you’re thinking.>> 

     << You’re no priestess. You aren’t endowed with divinity from beyond. You know what I am thinking because it is the only logical thought,>> Hanzo said dismissively. 

     <<If it’s so logical then why haven’t you made the call?>> Kiriko challenged. 

     <<You wouldn’t understand.>>

     <<I understand just fine. I’m not actually your sister, remember? I know exactly what it’s like being the eldest. Being the dependable one. Having all of the expectations thrust upon you, and feeling compelled to please those around you. My grandmother was a priestess, and my mother was a warrior. I was constantly asked to choose between the physical and the spiritual, knowing that whenever I helped one, I hurt the other. And I used to let it torment me. But that’s because they both only wanted half of who I am. But I am both of them, and so much more.>> Kiriko said. 

     <<I do not seek your counsel, nor your company,>> Hanzo insisted. 

     <<No. You seek the counsel of the fallen.You want an echo chamber of guilt to push you into doing the thing that you know you don’t want to do, so that if it all goes wrong, you can at least say you were just doing what you were told. You want absolution. But no one’s telling you anything. Look around. The Shimada are dead. >> 

     Hanzo opened his eyes at last and glared at her. She was looking right back at him, without a hint of remorse. Her disrespect was entirely too blatant for his liking. In the past he would have had her tongue cut out, and displayed as the centerpiece of his next business meeting. Lucky for her, he wasn’t that man anymore. She continued. <<My mother isn’t exactly thrilled to have a petty gang leader for a daughter. But you wanna know something? I’m proud of who I am. I’m proud of the work we’ve done for Kanezaka , to push the Hashimoto out of our territory. I’m proud of the lives we’ve saved from the Tiger’s claws. When was the last time you were proud of yourself?>>

     Hanzo’s gaze turned downward. He scanned the mental film reel of his life, trying to remember the last time he wasn’t carrying an obese weight in shame. His mind conducted mental acrobatics, but his heart knew the answer as soon as she asked the question. It was when he’d saved South Korea from the Null Sector invasion, alongside D.Va, Soldier: 76, and Mercy.  

     Kiriko left him with his contemplation. She reached into her satchel, pinching a paper tag between her index and middle fingers. She held it up and closed her eyes, using it as a focus in her meditation. A gentle breeze wrapped around the two of them, the feeling too eery and uncanny to be chocked up to happenstance. He turned to look at her, and then looked at the tag. It wasn’t written in hardlight ink, nor did she have the necessary augmentations to channel it. But if he didn’t know any better, he would swear that it was glowing! 

     The hairs on his arms and neck stood up straight as a latent energy harnessed around him. He felt his vision falter for a moment, and then his lungs were renewed with a different texture of air. Then Kiriko began to speak. <<The Northern Dragon has fallen from the heavens, and walked the earth on two feet. And in his journey he comes again to the same perilous crossroad when last he lost his way,>> she said, though her voice sounded distorted and eerie. Hanzo eyed her in astonishment. She continued. <<Dragon North, fret not. The fork is the illusion before redemption.>> 

     The wind stopped and the energy fell flat. From the corner of his eyes Hanzo could have sworn he saw something dash off into the distance. A small creature, like a fox. Kiriko opened her eyes and laid her tag at the tombstone, before rising to her feet. Hanzo looked bewildered and haunted. 

     <<What? What did you say?>> Hanzo asked. She looked back at him. 

     <<What? When was the last time you were proud of yourself?>> Kiriko’s eyes knotted up in confusion.

     <<No. After that. The Northern Dragon has fallen from the heavens…?>> Hanzo asked frantically, rising with her. 

     <<Uh…I didn’t say anything. I was waiting for you to say something. I asked you a question. But then you got all quiet and weird so I finished my meditation,>> Kiriko said, looking at Hanzo as if he were the one acting crazy . He stared at her wide eyed, waiting for her to drop the charade. But she didn’t. She held her expression until the sunlight parted the clouds behind her, and forced him to hold up his forearm to shield his eyes. 

     <<...Never mind then,>> Hanzo said. Kiriko shrugged and turned away. As she left the cemetery, Hanzo turned back to his family tombstone. His gaze lingered for a moment longer, but there was a clarity in him now. One that he hadn’t felt in some time. He bowed. 

     <<Thank you for your mercy. I apologize for all that I have done. I will make you proud. I promise.>> Hanzo said, and then rose from his bow. He darted out of the cemetery after Kiriko, catching up to her quickly. She turned back to him. 

     <<Need something?>> 

     <<One of your animal friends is a hacker, I take it?>> He asked. She crossed her arms defensively. 

     <<The best there is. Why? You coming up short on this month’s rent? Need a quick deposit?>> She teased. But her demeanor changed when she saw him hold out the communications link for Talon. 

     <<I need this reverse-tapped to find the locations of all the other communicators, and the base of central operations.>> Hanzo said. She pursed her lips. 

     <<That’s…a pretty tall order. And we don’t work for free,>> Kiriko said with an arched eyebrow. 

     <<In exchange, you and I will take down the Tiger’s outpost in Kanezaka. Tonight.>>

*****

     The thump of a bass guitar and drums permeated the outside of the Hashimoto compound. Hanzo could feel it from an entire rooftop away. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it very loudly. But raucous behavior was par the course for the Hashimoto. Though they lived as the Shimada’s one true rival, they knew nothing of refinement and elegance. They lived in frivolity and excess, in honor of their earthly tethers. 

     Hanzo knelt into the shadows of the nearby roof, waiting for his accomplice. It wasn’t long before she scaled the side of the building, approaching behind her. He didn’t do her the courtesy of flinching. <<Alright, so what’s the plan?>> She asked. 

     <<First, you must understand that I am not responsible for you once we begin this. If you cannot defend yourself, you should remain outside,>> Hanzo said. She rolled her eyes. 

     <<I’ll be just fine. Worry about yourself,>> She chided. He ignored her. 

     <<How will I get in touch with your hacker, if you fall? Do you intend to uphold your end of the bargain?>> He asked, still eyeing the area. 

     <<3233 Willow Way, in Kanezaka. The second Tuesday of every month at midnight,>> she said, and he comprehended that she’d just given him the schedule to her gang’s meetings. He could remember that. He nodded. <<You still haven’t told me the plan,>> Kiriko said, her hands resting on her hips in impatience. Hanzo stood from his kneeling position. 

     <<I thought I’d take a page from your and Genji’s playbook,>> Hanzo said. The electric blue hardlight of his Dragon Tattoo lit up dangerously, circling his arm in a serpentine slither. He grabbed an arrow from his quiver and knocked it, before yelling. <<LET THE DRAGON CONSUME YOU!>>

     He fired his arrow and the hardlight erupted in its trajectory. A spiraling Shenlong dragon followed the trail, as the arrow cracked the outer glass window. Screams of terror erupted from the building, and then there was nothing. The dragon dissipated, and the music stopped entirely. 

     <<Did you just kill all of those people?>> Kiriko shrieked in horror! Hanzo smirked. 

     <<I only loosed one of my dragons. Enough to knock most of the civilians unconscious. They’ll be needing healing,>> Hanzo said, before running to the roof’s ledge. He heard Kiriko swear at him from behind his back as he leapt from the roof ledge in a death-defying stunt. He landed perfectly through the window that his arrow shattered and rolled into a tumble. He knocked an arrow, and let his instincts take over. 

     <<Up there!>> A Hashimoto goon yelled. Hanzo silenced him with an arrow through the back of the throat. The percussive drum roll of automatic gunfire deafened his hearing as several bullets soared forth to claim his life. He broke into a cold sprint, firing three separate shots at each of the shooters. Their bodies hit the floor with sickening thuds, and the guns fell from their grasp. 

     It had been some time since he had let loose this way. More often than not, his missions required a more judicial use of his skills, and he refrained from killing as much as possible. Especially in the case of his native brethren, as was the instruction of his family and the insistence of the law that pretended to govern them. But the Hashimoto was his blood-sworn enemy, and unless the families agreed to meet under terms of neutrality to discuss treaty, they tore into each other without regret or remorse. The restraints that pinned the Dragon had been loosened, and he took the moment to soar into the heavens again.

     As Hanzo painted the paper walls with Hashimoto blood, he could tell that Kiriko was working around him. Paper tags flew through the air as she healed the civilians who appeared to need tending, and moved their bodies out of the compound. They worked in tandem. The Fox saved the innocent. The Dragon devoured the guilty. 

     The Tiger had grown fat and lazy without the threat of the Dragon to keep it on its toes. Hashimoto goons trickled out of the doors upstairs, guns and swords being drawn. Hanzo fired shot after shot with horrifying precision, killing the artillerists first and dealing with the swordsmen as they arrived. It wasn’t long before the Hashimoto compound was rich with the stench of blood and iron, as the ground was littered with Hashimoto corpses. 

     Kiriko appeared next to him, and he turned to look at her. <<You asshole!>> She swore with fury. Hanzo looked around, still watching for enemy activity. 

     <<The Hashimoto would have used them as hostages,>> he explained. 

     <<You could have injured those people, or worse!>> She said. 

     <<But did I? With my restraint and your care, the worst they will have are headaches and bruises. Everyone in Japan knows that this is Hashimoto territory. We take trains around the area, never getting off at this exit. They knew the risks when they came here,>> Hanzo said, walking around and collecting the arrows from their targets. Kiriko shook her head. <<You’re frightened this will blow back onto your gang.>> Hanzo said for her. 

     <<They’re not ready for this level of guerilla warfare. The Hashimoto will be furious once they realize what you’ve done!>> Kiriko said. Hanzo thought to continue, but both of them looked up when a paper door slid open from upstairs. Two Hashimoto goons emerged first; large men wearing suits and animal masks. On the left stood a leopard with a pair of electric knuckles on his hand. To the right was a dhole, with two hands full of shuriken and throwing daggers.

     Then in the center came a woman. She wore a red dress with a tiger insignia, and a large katana on her back, walking slowly toward the balcony and looking down on the duo. The room fell silent, until she spoke. <<You two did all of this yourselves?>> She asked calmly. 

     Hanzo stepped forward. <<I descend from the skies to challenge mine enemy,>> he said. Her eyes widened in comprehension. It was a phrase passed down through the years of conflict between the warring families. In doing so, he had announced himself as Shimada. Something she never dreamed of hearing again. Her henchmen drew their weapons, but she waived them off. Instead she kicked the wooden railing of her balcony out of her way, and leapt down to the floor in an elegant kneel. They leapt down behind her.

     She stepped forward, drawing her blade from its sheath. It sang a familiar tune as she brandished the weapon, and Kiriko sneered in bloodlusted fury. Hanzo could see even from this distance that that sword was none other than a Toshiro Yamagai original. A blade crafted by the best swordsmith in all of Japan - Kiriko’s father. 

     <<Those words are meant for a select few. I would have your name,>> She said. He stepped forward, drawing an arrow. 

     <<Hanzo Shimada,>> He said, and her eyes widened with murderous intent, like her family’s patron spirit. 

     <<The fallen enemy emerges from hiding at last? Then I - Keiko Hashimoto - will have the pleasure of slaying the last Dragon . I leap from the earth to accept your challenge,>> she said, uttering the response to lock the two of them into a singular duel. 

     <<What do we do, boss?>> The dhole asked. Hanzo assumed him new, and untrained in protocol. 

     <<Have fun with the girl, but the archer is mine. You are not to interfere with our duel under any circumstances. Am I clear? >> She asked. Both men affirmed their understanding. 

     Hanzo kept his gaze on the woman but spoke quietly to Kiriko. <<You should flee. They will not hold back,>> he said, but she rushed in front of him. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed with venomous fury, and he reached forward to strike her for interfering with his duel. But she drew two kunai from her holster, and flung one at each guard, making them both dodge and block. 

     <<Fucking bitch!>> The leopard spat. Kiriko flipped him the bird and ran to scale the wall up to the next floor. The goons darted up after her, leaving Hanzo alone with boss Keiko. She widened her stance and established her grip on her blade. Hanzo could tell just from the way that she carried herself that she was left handed. It was something that he would have taken into consideration, were he wielding his own blade. But his oath remained, out of respect for the travesty he inflicted upon his brother. 

     She stepped left and he did the same, keeping the distance between them equitable as they opposed each other. They circled around slowly, both waiting for a hitch in the other’s movement, some small moment of weakness to pounce on. It was said that the Tiger was both the Dragon’s equal and opposite. The Dragon was a being of wisdom and patience, relying on the inevitability of time to reveal its secrets. While the Tiger relied entirely on itself, charging ahead with the blind faith that it would be victorious. It was only when faced with each other, that the two were thrown off their relative courses. 

     They took two more steps each. Hanzo noticed the way that boss Keiko lost balance in her stance while trying to remain facing him. He seized the opportunity, firing an arrow at her with the intent to kill. She withdrew her sword and deflected the arrow with the broad side of her blade. It bounced off of her, and she dashed forward, taking advantage of the time between his reload. 

     Hanzo leapt back and up to the second floor and she rushed up after him, swinging her blade, and slicing just above his head as he ducked. Her katana cut into the paper wall like tissue and ripped it apart, momentarily obstructing Hanzo’s vision. He focused on the movements of her shoulders and spun right just in time to avoid a pointed thrust at his abdomen. Hanzo jumped into the next room from the opening she created, giving one last look at Kiriko as she was pincered between the two goons, trying to look in two different directions at once. 

     He didn’t have time to worry about her. Boss Keiko’s assault was relentless! She swung her sword ruthlessly, and it cut the air around them sharp enough to be heard. Hanzo continued to backpedal. He hissed in frustration. The entire point of a bow and arrow was distance. He was horrendously disadvantaged at this close of a range!

     She forced him into a corner, and so he wielded his bow in defense, holding it in front of him like a club. He would have to resort to hand to hand. She came in for her strike. He caught it with his bow, but to his shock and astonishment, he felt it crack under the pressure. Hanzo dropped the bow and slid left. She flung the bow off her blade and then drew it once more, point the tip of it at him. 

     He needed to think. He couldn’t think! She was at him again, and this time he had nothing to defend with. He dodged her slash, but it left him off balance and she punished him for it with a deep cut across his abdomen. He yelped in pain as he staggered backward. His hand touched his abdomen where he was cut. It was drenched in blood. 

     He felt light headed, but he didn’t have time for that. Not now, when she was dashing forward to finish what they started! But he did the unthinkable. He dashed forward to meet her. Her instincts made her draw back the blade to swing overhead. He ducked down to the floor in a tumble, leaving a trail of his own blood behind him. But he was correct; the blade was too tall for her, and so the tip of it hit the floor before it could strike his back. He seized the moment and struck her in the stomach as hard as he could. 

     She hit the wall with a thud. Hanzo rose to follow up after, but he faltered again, the bloodloss making him dizzy and fatigued. She pushed herself off the wall. Hanzo reached back and grabbed her blade, making her pause. But then he flung it across the room out of both of their respective reaches, and took his stance for hand-to-hand combat. She did the same. 

     She was smaller than him. She was weaker than him. But he was losing blood fast, and what she lacked in might she made up for in ferocity. She leapt at him, bringing both of her arms crashing down on him from above. He blocked, but she followed it with a kick to his shin, forcing him to step back. She threw our four rapid fire punches, quicker than his eye could track. He blocked them on instinct, but he was losing. She was dictating the flow of combat! 

     He heaved heavily and staggered backward before resetting himself once more. There was blood all over the floor. His blood. He wasn’t long for this world. But he wouldn’t let his story end like this. He was enough of a disgrace, without adding the Tiger’s victory to his shame. He steeled himself and focused. She called his bluff. 

     She came in with a phoenix knuckled strike aimed at the nerve endings of his neck, but he anticipated her forward fury. He sidestepped and caught her arm, using her own momentum to pull her forward. In the throw of his pull, his elbow collided with her jaw, and he swept her feet from beneath her with a kick. She hit the floor, but he kept hold of her wrist, flinging her forward far enough to step on her back and bend her arm out of place! 

     She howled in pain after the sound of her arm breaking. She rose from the floor again, her arm hanging limply at her side. She moved in as if to strike again, but the fear from being struck like that again made her hesitate. It was just long enough for Hanzo to step in and take the lead. She predictably moved to cover her weakness, and so he attacked everything that she used to defend it. He struck at her arms and kicked at her legs, battering them to the point of her falling to the ground and recoiling from him. 

     She was crawling backward. She was crawling toward her sword! He rushed forward trying to beat her to it. The two broke into a dash, with both of them leaping for the blade. She grabbed it. He grabbed her neck . <<Yield!>> Hanzo barked. She was furious! She lifted the blade with one arm, but the sword was a Yamagami original. It was meant to be wielded with both hands, and so in one it was much heavier. Much clumsier. She swung it down, but he sidestepped it and she dropped it. 

     Her hands clutched at his, trying to stop him from choking her. He kept her gaze as he watched the life fade from her eyes. Two fingers raised meant a yield. He knew the signal, and he knew that she knew it as well, if she knew the passphrase for a dual. But she continued to strike at his wrist, hoping to make him break. But her strikes were weaker now, due to her broken and bruised arms. 

     She swung once, twice, and then collapsed in his clutch. When he was certain she was done, he flung her body to the ground, and dropped to his knees, clutching his wound. The world around him went dark as his vision blurred. He apologized for his weakness, as his body slumped forward and his head hit the wooden floor with a thud. And then everything went dark.... 

.....

....

...

..

     <<...You’re not done yet.>> Hanzo opened his eyes. Kiriko was kneeling over him. She had propped his head up and turned him over. His shirt was removed, but she’d bandaged the wound and sealed it with one of her paper tags. He looked up at her. 

     <<I didn’t kill her,>> He said, knowing better. She nodded.

     <<She lost, and she knew it. She woke before you did, and moved to finish you off, but I threatened her. She cut herself an exit and leapt off,>> Kiriko explained, motioning over to the broken window. Hanzo nodded. 

     <<We shouldn’t stay here,>> He said. 

     <<Agreed,>> she said. She stepped back and reached for his arm. He tensed at the back so that she could pull him to his feet without provoking his wound. Then when he was up, she tucked underneath his shoulder, letting him lean on her for support. 

     <<I can walk,>> Hanzo said. 

     <<Shut up, Shimada..>> Kiriko chided, and walked them both forward. The sound of sirens in the distance caught his ear. Now wasn’t the time to be difficult. They hobbled over to the corner, grabbing his bow, and then fled under cover of night. 

*****

     Press of the incident spread overnight. The larger media outlets refrained from linking the activity to the Hashimoto themselves, out of fear for the criminal organization. But the smaller independent blogs and start ups had begun calling the event ‘the Hashimoto massacre.’ Hanzo didn’t care for the infamy of recognition. He only scanned the articles to see if he had been mentioned at all. 

     Fortunately very little had been gleaned from the encounter, or released to the public. There was no mention of himself, the Shimada family, Kiriko’s Oni gang, or even boss Keiko. The guns wielded but the Hashimoto were unmarked, so ballistics were unable to trace the owners. Less still with blades and arrows. But the blood and corpses left a crime scene as messy as it was enthralling, and the obituaries were littered with the names of felons. The Hashimoto need not be mentioned in the paper at all. The death toll was enough of a stain on their reputation. 

     At the moment, Hanzo was riding the train to his preferred market. Thanks to Kiriko, his wound healed faster than intended. She was no Angela Ziegler, but he had to give her her credit; she was talented in the medicinal arts. His duel against boss Keiko had been weighted in her favor, and in hindsight he sorely underestimated his opponent. Had it not been for the rookie priestess, his name would surely be carved into the family headstone. A lesson he would carry with him into his next confrontation with the Hashimoto.

     The world outside of the train windows whipped by, until the train came to his stop. He rose from his seat and left the vehicle, carrying his reusable bags for the journey. Everywhere he looked people were talking about the incident with articles and cell phones pulling up more and more information. He marched onward in purpose, making his way to the market. 

     In this moment he knew he was supposed to be proud of what he had done. But it was the familiar stench of guilt that wafted off of him now, as he entered the grocery store. The amount of commotion that this event had caused, was testament to the weight of tyranny that the Hashimoto had inflicted on Japan in the Shimada’s absence. The people behaved this way because they were relieved. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. It was only now that he realized how crucial his role as Oyabun had been for the ordinary citizen.    

     He tried not to think about it, relegating his mind to the task of selecting quality produce. But as he moved to the different sections of the market, his training began to kick in. He was being watched. He couldn’t tell by who, but he could tell that he wasn’t alone. He paused and looked into the reflection of a refrigerator door to see behind him. But it was a familiar face that stood behind him, doing her best to move closer. Hanzo turned around to face her head on. 

     They both stopped and stared at each other. Both of their mouths fell open, and then closed. His heart raced. He could hear it beating. He wanted to flee, but his feet wouldn’t move. All he could do was look at her. 

     <<Hanzo…>> She whispered. 

     <<....Yuka…>> He said back. 

     She smiled and stepped forward, but stopped when she saw that he stepped back. A moment of heartbreak flashed before her eyes, and then she stepped back too. As quickly as the smile came to her face, it faded away into distress. He swallowed, hating himself anew. It didn’t matter what she’d done. He never wanted to see her frown. 

     <<I…I’m sorry,>> she said. He shook his head. 

     <<It’s been so long. I never even imagined I would see you again. Almost fifteen years?>> He said. Tears came to her eyes. She nodded. He stepped closer. She did as well. 

     They just stared at each other, their faces familiar in memory, but foreign with the passage of time. When last she saw him, he was clean shaven and slight. He dressed in only the best in his attempts to impress her. Now here he was at the discount market, in a hoodie. He was about seventy pounds heavier in muscle, with a full beard and face withered with regret. 

     And to him, she was someone else entirely. She had traded out her girlish attire, wearing high-waisted jeans with a powder blue blouse tucked in at the waist. Her hair spilled over her shoulder in a sweep, and she clutched her basket in front of her, no doubt to hide the way her hips had widened. But the change in her appearance hadn’t hindered her beauty at all. She was as stunning now as she was when last he saw her. And against his will, he smiled at her. 

     She smiled back and moved in to hug him. He embraced her with familiarity, and both of them relaxed at last. The awkward tension remained, but it was better now than it was a moment ago. He released her and she stepped back, clearing her throat.

     <<I’m sorry. I really didn’t think I would ever see you again,>> she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. She smiled to stop herself from crying, continuously blotting her eyes and fussing with her appearance. He just stared at her dumbfounded. 

     <<Neither did I,>> he said bewildered. But his heart wasn’t racing anymore. Just as he remembered her, he remembered the day they met, and he finally understood what it meant to like a girl. He remembered the way that they would share snacks and playlists, and spend his family’s money on games and trinkets. He remembered the way he almost proposed to her the day that his mother died. And then he remembered the way he had caught her and his brother in the throws of passion. He remembered it all at once. 

     It was as if she could read his mind, because she stepped back in sudden shame and comprehension. But he stepped forward again, holding his hand out as if asking her to wait. And that made her stop, and look at him with a newfound sorrow. <<Yuka…?>> He asked. She blinked but then unfastened her watch. 

     She held her hand out to him, showing her wrist and wedding ring. On her wrist was the name Daiki Inoue in kanji. <<We promised each other we would show it when it happened but…>> she said, and he understood. She had gotten hers, and his was still blank. And she had seen. 

     A twinge of embarrassment knotted up in his chest, but he forced it out of sight and mind. His training in diplomacy kicked in. He smiled and took her hand, looking at the characters, before letting go. <<Tell me everything about him,>> He said. And she smiled the way she used to smile, when she was the one who chased away his nightmares.

Chapter Text

     <<We met at a bar,>> Yuka began as they walked together along the sidewalk, carrying their groceries in reusable bags. Hanzo held the majority of the bags, explaining it to her as a workout that he needed to trim down on excess weight. He decided to accompany her home to catch up, even though her address was completely the opposite direction from his current hideaway. He never imagined he would run into Yuka again, so he seized the opportunity while it struck. But if he were honest with himself, he couldn’t truly pinpoint how he felt right now. He would ask himself about it later. 

     <<I know that probably sounds unsavory, but it wasn’t like that. I was out with some of my co-workers for drinks, and a man was being rude to the bartender. The bartender was an Omnic, and the man was a nationalist who disagreed with Omnic rights and integration. My dad used to work on Omnics for a living if you remember, and he always instilled in me that they’re people, regardless of how they’re created. I’ve carried that with me all my life, so I couldn’t stand to see the Omnic being mistreated. So I intervened and chastised him. That was probably silly of me, but at the time I didn’t care. Anyway, when I stepped between them, the man moved to hit me. That’s when Daiki stepped in.>> 

     Hanzo listened intently as she spoke. She smiled, recalling the memory. They were walking down the streets of Ichihara, but Hanzo could tell just from the look in her eye that she was caught in a daydream somewhere else. She was with him, but she was also far away, just as she had always been. <<He’s not like you and Genji. He’s actually a big coward normally. He doesn’t even like to complain if someone gets his order wrong at a restaurant. But he just knew that he had to do something. So he punched the guy square in the face…and broke his own hand!>> 

     She laughed a fond laugh as she recounted the story and Hanzo smiled. He quietly snickered to himself. The memory was humorous to him, but more than anything it was the contagious nature of Yuka’s joy. He found it hard to sustain his own happiness most days, but she always seemed to have laughter to spare. It’s why he found himself looking to borrow it long term once upon a time. But there was no denying it. Yuka was in love. It was plain to see. 

     <<I ended up going with him to the emergency room. I felt guilty for putting him in that position, and I just wanted to make sure that he was alright. But we ended up hitting it off and we became friends. Then one day while I was out running errands I got my mark. He’d been working for a terrible company that took advantage of him at every opportunity. Then one day his boss pushed him too far, and he remembered how brave I had been at that bar, and so he stood up for himself and quit.>> She looked down at the mark on the inside of her wrist again with a fond smile. <<That’s when it happened. He got my name on his wrist, and I got his. And I was so happy,>> she said. Tears began to well in her eyes but she quickly blotted them away. 

     <<Is he everything you wanted?>> Hanzo asked. She nodded quickly, and laughed to keep from crying. 

     <<Everything and more. He’s…soft. But he also makes me feel safe and strong at the exact same time. He leans on me, and I lean on him. And I know that I can tell him anything, no matter how silly or specific, and he’s all ears. It’s…like he was made for me. Two halves of a whole,>> Yuka gushed. Hanzo was horrified to know that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He had felt that feeling twice before. Once with her. The other with the man who haunted his idle thoughts with the smell of cheap cologne, whiskey, and cigar smoke. She continued on. 

     <<I lost everyone. My dad passed on the job. He fell from the top of a large Omnic’s shoulder while he was working. His body was too old to take an impact like that, even with his safety equipment on. After I buried him, I thought to reach out. But then I learned that Genji had been killed, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. I looked and I asked, but once the Hashimoto moved into place, I knew I couldn’t ask anymore. Speaking your family name was all but forbidden. It was lonely, for a long time. But once I got my soulmate mark, I knew that I wasn’t alone anymore. He saved me. In more ways than one,>> She said. The sunlight illuminated the relief that washed over her face as she brought him up to speed.

     <<I’m sorry,>> Hanzo said, but she shook her head.

     <<Please don’t apologize. I should be apologizing to you. I never had the courage to face you after…everything…>> Yuka said. Hanzo averted his gaze, not sure that he was ready to have this conversation. But it didn’t matter. They were having it anyway. 

     <<You owe me nothing.>> 

     <<I knew you had feelings for me,>> Yuka confessed, looking away. That one hit him in the chest. He took a deep breath and then sighed. 

     <<Was I so obvious?>> Hanzo asked sarcastically. She chuckled to herself sardonically. 

     <<I…wanted to love you. You treated me well. You took care of me, you made space for me. I knew you would be a good match, but…>> she began, not sure of how to continue. 

     <<...There was something about Genji. Something I never had,>> Hanzo finished for her, already knowing the answer. But Yuka shook her head. 

     <<No, that wasn’t it. What happened with Genji was…a mixture of alcohol and grief. I remember waking up the next morning and just…looking at Genji’s soulmate mark and feeling disgusted. Whoever she is, I’d ruined any chance of being part of their future. And I hurt you in the process. Yes I was drunk, and yes I was just trying to console my grieving friend. But there was no amount of soju that would make any of that okay. So I just ran, like a coward.>> 

     Hanzo had both eyes on her now. His own eyes threatened to water as old feelings resurfaced. <<I would’ve understood.>> 

     << I didn’t understand, >> Yuka insisted, shaking her head as a tear fell from her eye. She wiped it. <<You were my best friend. You both were. And for me to do that, to either of you…>> Yuka said, shaking her head in disbelief at her own behavior. Hanzo nodded. He gently placed a hand on her back to ease her building anxiety. 

     <<So much was happening at that time. And we were only twenty. Nothing could have prepared any of us for what transpired,>> Hanzo said. But she wouldn’t let herself off the hook.

     <<You deserved better than that Hanzo. You both did.>> She turned to face him in full. <<I sincerely apologize for what I did. I’ve regretted it every day since, and if I could take it back please know that I would.>> She looked him in the eye, her eyebrows knotted up and her own brown eyes watered with shame. 

     Hanzo met her gaze. He had already forgiven her, but he knew that she would only continue if he didn’t acknowledge and compound upon her efforts. <<I will only forgive you on one condition,>> Hanzo said. Yuka wiped her eyes and looked into his, waiting for him to finish. <<You and your husband must join me for dinner. My treat,>> He said with a smile. She laughed and rushed in to hug him. He shook from the impact, and then gently hugged her back. He searched the vacancies of his mind and his heart to see if he was betraying himself. To his surprise, the moment felt genuine.

     He remembered what he felt for Yuka. At the time his feelings were sincere and true. He thought to himself that perhaps there was another life where his mother hadn’t passed in the middle of his proposal. That perhaps they were married, with a son and a daughter, and that he had become the Oyabun his father had molded. But now more than ever, being here in her arms, he was certain: 

     He would rather be slow dancing with Cassidy. 

     <<I’m just so glad you’re okay. And that I got to see you again, after all this time.>> She let him go and wiped her eyes. 

     <<I’m glad you’re okay too. And I’m glad that you’ve found someone who makes you happy,>> Hanzo said, smiling and saying the things he knew that he was supposed to say. He braced himself for the inevitable cliche that she was supposed to say back to him. Something to the effect of ‘don’t worry, it’ll happen when you least expect it.’ But she didn’t say anything. She just wiped her eyes one more time, and then she took her bags from him. He eyed her with confusion.

     <<My house is actually right here. Will you take my phone number?>> She asked, and he nodded quickly, taking out his burner phone. He touched his phone to hers, and acquired her contact information. <<Perfect. I’ll talk to Daiki, and call you to set up a dinner!>> She said cheerfully, looking just like her teenage self again. This was his best friend, stepping into the light that seemed to seep out of her from within. He smiled back and nodded. 

     <<Until then,>> He said with a curt nod. She hugged him again.

     <<Bye Hanzo. See you soon!>> She said, before stepping up to her porch. He waited for her to get inside, before stepping off to leave. He looked back at his phone to edit her contact information to a safer codename that he could remember. But he saw a missed message from Kiriko. It was an address, and one more word.

     <<Hurry.>>

***** 

     Hanzo resisted the urge to text Kiriko on the train ride to the yokai hideout. There was no guarantee that the line was secured, and increased communication meant increased opportunities of being tracked. He stopped at a convenience store, buying a rudimentary notepad to copy all of his contacts into, including the new number that he just got from Yuka, and then left himself a note to remember to set up message forwarding. Then he left his burner phone and anything else with a GPS signal on a completely different train just in case. If anyone were actually tracking him, they would end up on a wild goose chase. 

     The yokai used a mom and pop donut shop as a front for their base of operations. Hanzo used the city directory to find his way, and took the rest of the trek on foot. He moved as quickly as he could while keeping himself discreet and indistinguishable from the rest of Japanese society. It would be easier and faster to vault around back alley fire escapes, but the day was clear and overly populated. The last thing he needed was to end up on someone’s ViewTube page as a local parkour phenomenon. 

     It took some time before he arrived at the donut shop, but when he did, he gave the custom order as instructed by Kiriko. The cashier nodded and let him walk around the counter into the kitchen. From there he found the storage closet, and behind it a hollowed out wall which served a door to a hidden staircase leading to a basement. The hideout was a little too eccentric for his own criminal taste. His family came from ancestral money, and so his preferences were more for classics and subtlety. Nothing like this at all. 

     The walls were painted with glowing neon graffiti and lights reminiscent of an arcade. The music thumped loudly in his ears. So loudly that he could feel the bass in his legs. He could tell by the voice that it was the latest club banger by Lúcio. The thought made him flashback to his first mission with Cassidy, in Rio de Janeiro where they met him in person. He didn’t let himself linger in the past for long, but instead snapped out his melancholy to focus on finding Kiriko. 

     The basement wasn’t overly grand, but they walled off different sections with hanging fabric. It only took a second before he saw two silhouettes behind a white cloth, one of them with a distinctive pair of fox ears, and just the right height. He pulled back the curtain to reveal Kiriko and a boy whom he assumed to be her hacker friend - the turtle from their first encounter. The boy flinched at Hanzo, sizing up his musculature and remembering the way he single handedly dispatched their entire gang. Hanzo ignored his weakness. 

     <<Well? What was so urgent?>> Hanzo asked, directing the question at Kiriko. She cast him back a concerned glance. 

     <<Kame managed to crack your comm link from the bad guys,>> Kiriko began, but the boy whom he presumed was named Kame interrupted. 

     <<Well actually…I tried but I was intercepted,>> he confessed with a wince. <<Someone caught me breaking into their servers and started up a counter hack. We only went at it for about five minutes before they beat me and got access to my files. But they took a look around and must’ve realized they didn’t want anything. Then they sent me this,>> Kame said, and then turned in his swivel chair to pull up a series of computer documents. Hanzo moved closer to peer over his shoulder alongside Kiriko. 

     It was a series of documented operations, dated for the past and the future. It was a list of key areas to target, and designated points of interest alongside why they were pertinent to Talon’s operations. His time in Overwatch made it so that he could verify the accuracy and authenticity of the data. It even included the how and why they were able to acquire Doomfist’s gauntlet from Numbani, before Overwatch had gotten wind of his breakout. This was a gold mine for shutting down Talon for good, but there was one small problem. <<Scroll back up,>> Hanzo said. Kame moved his cursor higher on the page. 

     Hanzo put his finger on the computer screen where he wanted Kame to stop. If the information was to be believed, Talon was set to attack the Gibraltar base in two days! Hanzo’s eyes widened in horror. He instinctively reached for his pocket, but there was no phone. No comm link. And all of Gibraltar's communications were encrypted and designed for one way traffic. 

     <<They’re going to be ambushed…>> Hanzo said out loud. His heart began to race at the image of the base being overtaken by Talon operatives. The thought of Cassidy having to fight again so soon, after almost being killed on that mission with Genji..

     …He needed to snap back to reality. <<Do you know who sent this to you?>> Hanzo asked. 

     Kame shook his head. <<Their call sign is a digital skull, but whoever they are, they’re good.>> He pulled up the image of the skull in code. Hanzo remembered the image from the files that Ana submitted to Winston when he was instructed to keep tabs on Cassidy. This hacker was exposing Talon’s secrets from within. Playing both sides of the field. But that confirmed this to be true. 

     Hanzo turned away, needing a moment to think. He could hop on a plane much to his horror. He would have to leave immediately, grabbing his necessities and taking the next flight straight through to spain. But even then he would need to get a rental car, and then somehow charter a helicopter or a jet because the Gibraltar was an off grid island. That would mean a lot of things would have to go right in sequential order and quickly, which still didn’t account for timing. But then the music caught his ears again. 

     <<Can you get in touch with this DJ? Lúcio?>> Hanzo asked. Kiriko and Kame both made faces of confusion. 

     <<Uh, sure?>> Kame said whipping around on his computer. He began typing away, pulling up everything that he could on the Brazilian celebrity. 

     <<Weird time to book a private performance,>> Kiriko snarked, putting her hands on her hips.

     <<He’s the only person I know of who has a direct line to Overwatch. If we can get ahold of him, I can have him warn them.>> Hanzo said, and Kiriko and Kame nodded in comprehension. Kame brought up a communications feed to Lucio’s line. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer. Hanzo swore. That was his only other option. He did some mental math before declaring <<I have to leave. I have to warn them.>>

     He turned to look at Kiriko, giving her an apologetic look. He had just promised her that he would help her take back Kanezaka from the Hashimoto and chase them out of their home for good. And now he was going back on his word for the second time, and leaving him to clean up his mess. But he couldn’t let anything happen to Overwatch. He couldn’t let anything happen to Cassidy. 

     <<Give him a copy of the files and then scrub them from our computers. Then fortify our security however you can,>> Kiriko said to Kame. The hacker nodded and fired off another series of commands on his keyboard. 

     <<Thank you,>> Hanzo said with relief, happy that she could at least set aside her childish antics for the gravity of the moment. 

     <<We can help,>> Kiriko volunteered immediately. But Hanzo shook his head. 

     <<No. We just hit the Hashimoto publicly. They have to retaliate if they want to maintain control. Our disrespect can’t go unanswered. Someone has to be here to protect and aid the people. It’s going to be bloody,>> Hanzo said. The dark part of him knew exactly what he would do if it were his syndicate in power, rather than the Hashimoto’s. <<I have to go…>> Hanzo repeated his eyes vacant as he still did the mental math. But no matter how he calculated, there was no way for him to be in two places at once. He looked at Kiriko apologetically. 

     She just nodded quickly. <<Be safe, Shimada. For what it was worth, it was good seeing you again,>> She said, giving him permission to leave. <<We’ll keep trying to get in touch with Lúcio here too.>> 

     He nodded. <<Just lay low. Keep an ear to the ground for mass transactions of weaponry and start a local initiative for a curfew. The Hashimoto can only operate in the shadows if they want to run congruent with the law. They can’t attack in broad daylight without police intervention, and if everyone is indoors at night then they have no one to make an example of. I will return as soon as I can, I promise.>> 

     <<Hey, no one asked! We made it this far without you, didn’t we? We don’t need you. What did I tell you earlier? Kanezaka is under my protection,>> Kiriko declared with a confident smirk. Hanzo did her the courtesy of smirking back. Kame pulled a drive out of his computer and handed it to Kiriko. She tossed it to Hanzo and he caught it. <<Go,>> Kiriko said. Hanzo gave her a nod and then turned on his heel. 

     He took off into a jog, which then turned into a sprint as soon as he made it out of the yokai Donut shop. He pulled up his hood and made his way down the backstreets. Earlier he opted for subtlety and hiding in plain sight, but now that he knew that Overwatch was in danger, he would just have to guest feature on someone’s ViewTube if he were filmed. Desperate times called for desperate acrobatics. He needed to be on the next plane out of Japan if he wanted to make it in time. He couldn’t get this one wrong. 

     Not this time.

Chapter Text

     “Sir?” 

     Hanzo jumped awake, at the sound of the nearby voice. It was an Omnic flight attendant, waking him from his tea induced sleep - a surprisingly heavy slumber given the circumstances. He made a mental note to thank Ana later, assuming he got the chance to see her again. The blend that she gave him knocked him out faster than any pharmaceutical. Then again there was no guarantee that it wasn’t actually drugged, knowing her. 

     “Thank you,” Hanzo muttered, straightening himself out and reclaiming his dignity. He quickly rose from his seat, and reached up into the overhead compartment above his head to grab his carry-on luggage. His bag was light, so he slung it over his shoulder with ease and moved right by the flight attendant as if they weren’t there. He was the last one off the plane on account of having fallen asleep, so it meant that he could bolt in a straight line down the exit and off of the dreaded vehicle. 

     He was acquainted with this airport now, finding his way around in record time to the luggage area to collect his concealed weaponry. As crazy as this would have sounded even a week ago, flying into Spain was the easy part. The hard part was going to be getting to the Watchpoint Gibraltar without military clearance. Before he left, he set up a few transfers between off-shore accounts to make sure that he would have enough money to charter a plane. And now he needed to pinpoint the approximation of the clandestine base in terms of latitude and longitude. 

     Amidst the ant-like bustle of the airport, he sat down at the first available seat he could find and pulled up a map on his phone. It took a few attempts of trial and error cartography until he was certain that even if he weren’t exactly on the island, he would be close enough to see it. He saved the coordinates, took a picture, and wrote them down on his arm to make sure they were well maintained. But flying over a military base - especially by means of coordinates - would be a tough sell to any pilot with common sense. 

     Next he pulled up a general web search of available charters. He called them one by one, doing his best to make a same day reservation while pacing back and forth. The airport was crowded and chimed with the echoes of chatter and overhead speech, so he had to cover one ear to make sense of the conversations he was having. One by one, the charters turned him down. If it weren’t bad enough that he was trying to book a same day solo flight, the lack of a destination port made him sound suspicious at best and unwell at worst. He was on his seventeenth call and counting, when he felt a tap at his shoulder. 

     He turned around, and then looked down to see an artistically coiffed fringe of hair, held in place with a pair of sunglasses. She wore a flannel over a tank-top, with a pair of shredded tights and sneakers. He almost didn’t recognize her outside of base, but her overly chipper and oddly dated British accent put the name right back in his mouth. “Hanzo! I thought that was you, Love!” 

     “Tracer!” Hanzo said, immediately hanging up the phone. “We have to hurry. The Gibraltar will be attacked in six hours,” Hanzo urged, looking her in the eyes to convey his sincerity. This was no doubt the most he’d ever said to her in a single instance. The circumstances couldn’t be any worse. Tracer’s eyes widened as she tried to comprehend what he said to her.

     “I-I’m sorry?” Tracer asked, still confused.

     “I have intel! The Gibraltar’s in danger!” Hanzo said it again in as few words as possible, using his eyes and tone to impress upon her the gravity of the situation. Tracer blinked and shook her head, as if snapping out of a trance. Then he watched the gears begin to turn behind the veil of her brown eyes.

     “Follow me!” She said, and then bolted like a shop-lifting teenager. Keeping up with Tracer was a feat worthy of bragging rights on a regular occasion, but trying to keep up with her while carrying two bags could be likened to a Greek tragedy. She weaved through civilians as if they weren’t even there, appearing at some angles to be a fairy, and at other angles a ghost. But if he looked away he knew he would lose her entirely. 

     He hoisted his bags on his shoulder and barreled through the other pedestrians, muttering his apologies in passing. “Where are we going?” Hanzo clumsily called after her, watching as she vaulted over lines and jogged down moving escalators. 

     “I’m a pilot! I moonlight here when I’m off duty!” She called back, flashing her badge at security. “He’s with me,” She said, and the airline security let them through. Hanzo followed her through the maze, blindly trusting that she knew where she was going. She led him to a hangar with a series of smaller airplanes. The further they ran, the smaller the planes came in size, until finally they approached a plane so small it only had four seats and he could see them from the windows. It took every ounce of discipline that he had to stop himself from turning around right there. 

     “They won’t miss this one. Hop in!” Tracer said as she dashed around to the pilot side. Hanzo swallowed a throat-full of acid fear. Tracer opened the cock-pit and leapt into the pilot’s chair. Hanzo shoved his bags in the rear seats, and then climbed into the co-pilot chair. He tried to still himself, but his hands betrayed his weakness, shaking ceaselessly. As soon as he buckled his seat belt, he saw Tracer activate a series of commands and open the hangar door. Then the propellers began to whirl, and Hanzo’s heart seized up in a way that made him subconsciously think of Mercy. 

     The plane rolled forward and slowly began to pick up speed as panicked workers scrambled to account for an unscheduled departure. It was only then that Hanzo realized thatTracer was taking off without a clearance! He did the unthinkable and closed his eyes, gripping the armrest hard enough to break the material and breathing in sharply through his nose. He felt light headed and nauseous as the plane rocked backward, and all of his body weight began to tug against gravity in an unnatural way. 

     He wanted to pass out. He wanted to vomit. He wanted nothing to do with any part of what was happening right now. But then he opened his eyes and took a look around as the plane soared up through the clouds. At this distance the clouds looked physical and dense, like cotton candy. He let himself look out the window and find a spot to focus on. If he died here, at least his final sight would be beautiful. 

     “Winston, come in! It’s Tracer!” Tracer yelled over the sound of the propellers. They both listened, but there was no response. “Winston!” Tracer tried again. She sighed. “How do you know there’s going to be an attack? And where have you been?” Hanzo looked at her warily, but then looked ahead again so as not to invite the opportunity for her to break line of sight with the world around them. 

     “Japan. I was on an assignment when I happened across Talon intel. I wanted to call… but…” He began, but he couldn’t finish his statement. It was only now that he realized how stupid it was for him to give Winston back his comm link. The silence hung in the air for a moment, but Tracer filled in the blanks for him. 

     “You came back. That’s what matters,” Tracer said, yanking him out of his own spiral with her heroic optimism. Hanzo didn’t know how she managed to maintain that inward resilience. When they were at base together he found her annoying. But now he realized just how similar she was to Yuka and Kiriko. They were all annoying in the exact same way. 

     “This is Mission Control,” Winston said over the comms. Tracer grabbed it immediately.

     “Winston, it’s Tracer! You’ve got to get everyone out of there!” 

     “We got the message. Keep the lines clear,” Winston said. 

     “We’re on our -” Tracer began, but Winston interrupted her. 

     “Keep the lines clear! Mission Control - out.” Winston barked. Tracer blinked in confusion at Winston’s curt command. But Hanzo knew why he said that. 

     “Talon has top-notch hackers under their employ. It was one of them that leaked the intel to me, after we tried to pilfer the information. They could be listening to us right now. Coordinating over communications would only serve to benefit the enemy,” he said, and Tracer nodded her signal of understanding.. Hanzo calmed at the knowledge that the message had been passed on. Kiriko must have managed to get in contact with Lúcio, who would’ve then gotten in contact with Winston. He relaxed in his seat if only slightly. The rest of his body was still tense from the perils of flight. 

     “That means when we get there, it’ll likely be one giant free-for-all. We’ll have to operate based on instincts to defend the base,” Tracer said as she continued to pilot them toward the battlefield. Hanzo nodded. 

     “So it would seem,” he said grimly. He tried to keep his gaze on the control panel’s radar, in anticipation of an enemy aircraft. But then he realized that if Talon’s aircrafts could be detected by civilian planes, their operation wouldn't be nearly as successful as it was. Instead he redirected his attention out the window, pushing past the nausea that plagued his body as he processed how high he was off the ground. He would have to use his eyes and ears to cover Tracer’s starboard side.

     “This is bad. This is really bad,” Tracer remarked out loud as she flipped a few switches on the control panel, no doubt to increase the plane’s velocity. But her panic was making him panic, and the feeling made his heart race in a painful way. “We’ll be landing right in the middle of a warzone!” 

     “You want to turn around?” Hanzo asked in annoyance. She didn’t catch the undercurrent of his attitude. 

     “Of course not! Overwatch is the only home I have! This little plane might not be a fighter, but it’s at least another way off the island if we have to evacuate. I don’t know what’s waiting for us ahead, but I know I can help!” Tracer declared her stance boldly as if in front of an audience. Hanzo made up his mind; Tracer was far more annoying than either Yuka or Kiriko. She might even give Genji a run for his money. 

     “Then we proceed” Hanzo said, still gripping the arm rest as they flew. Tracer nodded and grinned. Then she turned a series of levers and knobs before thrusting them into full speed. Hanzo’s head spun all over again. 

     “Hang on, Winston! The cavalry is on the way!” 

***** 

     “We’re approaching,” Tracer announced, and then pulled back on the controls to bring the plane higher into the sky. Hanzo felt his stomach twist into a knot as they climbed higher and higher, but he knew that it was the right move to make. Their radar wouldn’t pick up Talon’s aircrafts, but Talon’s would certainly pick up theirs. And the Gibraltar was supposed to be an off-grid military base, so any aircraft approaching the island was fair game. He was actually safer in the sky for once! 

     As the plane finally leveled, he looked out of the window, down at the scenery below. It was worse than he thought. The Gibraltar was swarmed at all angles by large black aircrafts. The doors on the sides of the planes were opened with armed soldiers diving out like circus acrobats with attached wires to secure their landings. He could see infrared homing lights beaming down from every angle as they lined up their sights and targets. All he could hear were propellers and gunfire atop a bedlam of yelling soldiers. Then from the corner of his eye, he saw Winston leap a clean twenty five meters into the air, landing inside one of the aircrafts to rip it asunder from within! 

     “There!” Hanzo pointed out Winston to Tracer. She nodded. 

     “Hang on tight, Love!” Tracer said as she brought the plane into a horrifyingly steep descent! Hanzo was so frightened that for once in his life all of the voices in his head simultaneously shut up. The plane plummeted at terminal velocity like a falcon, and then spiraled to avoid the oncoming fire from the Talon operatives. He said one last plea to his ancestors to absolve him of his debts as he would surely be unable to fulfill them now. But right at the end of her wicked dive, Tracer pulled up on the controls of the plane, just in time to level with the ground and roll to a halt!

     Tracer brought the plane down behind the base and Hanzo leapt out like his life depended on it. He skipped past the pleasantry of relief now that he was on the ground, because the truth was that he was anything but safe. He grabbed his bag and slammed it onto the floor, reaching into it to snap his bow and arrow into place. But then he heard Tracer yell “WATCH OUT!”

     She shoved him at full speed and pushed him aside just as a gunshot flew past his face. From there his muscle memory kicked in, and he reverted back into the weapon that he was raised to be. He knocked an arrow and took aim, following the trajectory of the shot that was fired at him. The arrow hit the mark, knocking the target clean out of the aircraft. He nodded a quick thanks to Tracer and then pressed his back to one of the base walls to find an angle. This was a true test of his tenure as an Overwatch agent. The comms were radio silent, and there were moving pieces everywhere. But from where he stood, Winston was leading the charge. It was just a matter of knowing how and when to follow his lead. They needed to work as a team.  

     He peeled around the corner of his vantage point and knocked another arrow. Winston was busy fighting the crew members of one of the aircraft vehicles, so the gorilla didn’t see that there were targeting markers all over his body. Hanzo needed to cover him quickly. He fired his first shot over at the opposing vehicle to take out the artillery units! He managed to eliminate two of them before the aircraft peeled off to find another position. 

     Then from the corner of his eye, he realized that he was being rushed from the ground! Talon operatives were taking low positions behind cover, and firing at him with automatic rifles. But a large hardlight shield took shape in front of him! Reinhardt and Brigitte had combined their barriers to make a large wall and obstruct enemy fire. But the shield only worked one way, because Soldier: 76 rushed up behind them, shooting through the barrier without obstruction and eliminating talon units like child’s play!

     “Hanzo, we can handle it from here!  We need you at the cliffside entrance! Ana’s pinned down!” Soldier: 76 barked as he fired. Hanzo nodded and took off running, maintaining the length of the hard light shield before breaking into a clean tumble to avoid being hit by a stray bullet. He caught the spare orders that Soldier: 76 barked at Tracer as he moved into the base and bolted through the hallways. The Gibraltar was once a maze to him, but now he knew exactly what twists and turns to take to make his way to the back of the base. 

     “Athena, are you there?” Hanzo asked. There was no voice. He wanted to ask for visuals but then he remembered the hacking suppression. He would have to go into this blind. He kept his eyes peeled as he ran, looking for anyone in need of assistance or any sign of the enemy, but as far as he could tell, the base hadn’t been breached. They were still fortified. 

     He followed the architecture out to the cliffside entrance and then manually opened the exit hatchet, but then stopped before stepping outside. Something in his spine stiffened in a way that told him to be en garde, and he had learned from years of training to listen to it. Rather than step out of the door, he punched through a nearby glass compartment to yank out a fire extinguisher. Then he lobbed his arm back and forth to toss it out the door. 

     He didn’t hear the gunshot, but he could hear the sound of the bullet puncturing the container. Hanzo jumped back and took cover just in case the extinguisher exploded. to avoid the impact of the shell, or the hazardous chemicals. He knew what he needed to know. The sniper was out there, and he had eyes on the Gibraltar’s exits. 

     Hanzo reached back into his quiver to find one of his sonar arrows. He knew that from his current angle he was safe from any enemy fire that wasn’t in his direct line of sight. He took a moment to calculate the cover from the top of the door, measuring out how close he could step until he might be in enemy sights. Once he made the calculation, he grabbed a nearby book to use as a place marker. Stepping beyond the book meant he could be seen and killed.  

     From here he took an odd angle, laying with his back on the ground and pinching back the bow string while pushing the bow forward to extend into a shot. The awkward position made it so that he could fire at an upward diagonal, and his sonar arrow rang out, giving him sight to the opposition. He looked up in time to see the silhouette of a woman behind a rifle almost as big as her body. She was slight in frame and dramatically graceful, even as she lowered her firearm. But then she extended her arm, and appeared to zipline out of sight! 

     Hanzo didn’t waste any time. He rolled over and darted out past the chemical cover of the fire extinguisher to take a new vantage point. He barely made it behind cover before another bullet came whizzing by the back of his neck. He slammed his back to the wall and caught his breath, looking up in alarm. He’d never faced an opponent like this! 

     Then came the bang of another gunshot, but it wasn’t from the enemy sniper. Whoever it was, was nearby. Hanzo turned around and climbed the wall behind him until he stood atop the roof and behind a large steel spire. He could hear the gunshots, but he couldn’t see anything. And poking his head out without a target would bring his story to an abrupt end. 

     He heard a succession of taps. Whoever was firing from his side of the structure was beating the wall in Morse code. It took Hanzo a moment to realize what they were saying. “A…N….A. Ana!” Hanzo tapped back against the wall. “H…N…Z…O.” 

     There was no response. Another gunshot came and Hanzo flinched, but he didn’t hear any yells of pain, so he assumed Ana hadn’t been hit. Hanzo slid across the wall to make his way to the exposed flank, as he knocked another sonar arrow. Following the sound, he had an approximation of where the enemy was firing from. He knocked the arrow and quickly spun to take the shot, before snapping right back behind cover, just in time to duck another shot! 

     He turned to see the sonar impression. It was that woman again. But just as soon as he saw her, she used her grappling hook to reposition herself again. He assumed that she’d deduced the capability of his technology, because this was twice now that she’d moved even though she had the superior vantage point. Usually his opponents underestimated the capability of his arrows. He preferred anachronistic weaponry to modern firearms, but he found himself in desperate need of something stronger right now. 

     The taps came to his ear again. He listened and scanned his memory for the abbreviations. It seemed that Ana was signaling him for….

     “... Countdown …” he said out loud. A countdown in this scenario would imply that she meant to take action. He guessed that her intent was to fire at the sniper at the same time. She either meant to use him as bait, or herself in his place. Whoever wasn’t fired at would have to make their shot. He swallowed nervously. It was a dangerous gamble, but there was once a time when Ana was the most dangerous sniper in the world. He beat his fist against the wall, tapping back the code to say ‘understood.’ 

     He knocked his last sonar arrow and listened, hoping to hear another shot from the enemy, but she had deduced his strategy. He would be firing blind at this rate, but he didn’t have time to think. Ana was already tapping again. He listened to the rhythmic taps and decoded it in his mind. 

     “On three…” he whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and stilled his mind. Then he tapped back the code for ‘understood.’ He waited a tense moment, before he heard her again. 

     Bump.

     “One..!”

     Bump.

     “Two…!” 

     Hanzo dashed over to the exposed side of the building and knocked his arrow. He leapt out wildly, his eyes looking for their target for a moment too long. She had moved from her last vantage point down to the ground below, and at an angle. But to his fortune she had her sights lined elsewhere! 

     Three shots went off at the same time - one from Ana, one from Hanzo, and one from this strangely blue woman. But only Hanzo’s seemed to land, as he heard her scream out in pain. The arrow stuck out of her shoulder like a cartoonish thorn, and he could see her turn her sights on him. But then another shot came from his flank. Now he knew where Ana was hiding!

     The blue woman spun behind cover, and then a zipline shot out from behind her position. Then he watched as she swung up into the sky, as graceful as a ballerina. Hanzo knocked another arrow just as she lined up the shot from her rifle. They both fired. 

     He missed. 

     She didn’t. 

     “Aangh!” Hanzo cried out at the blinding white pain of a bullet in his leg. But he had no time to waste. He knocked another arrow and shot it back at her, making her duck behind cover again. He limped his way back behind obstruction, and then sank down into a painful seat. 

     The blood poured from his leg like spilled ink, only crimson and twice as viscous. He applied pressure to the wound to keep himself from bleeding out, but it was a clean shot. The urge to pass out beckoned to him, but he bit his tongue and shook his head to resist the sweetness of its call. He wondered for a moment if this had been the sniper that Genji had faced when Cassidy was injured. And then he remembered that Cassidy was injured. And probably on this base somewhere! 

     Hanzo pulled the ribbon from his hair, letting it fall loosely as he tied it instead above his wound to make a makeshift tourniquet. It pinched in a painful way, but he knew that it had to be tight enough so that his fingers couldn’t fit through it, if he wanted to stop the bleeding. Then he army crawled his way along the floor, until he came to the building side and lazily rolled over the edge. 

     He used his arms and other leg to steady himself as he slid down the building side. When he landed on the ground, his leg throbbed painfully and his vision went white from the sensation. Then he lifted his leg in a limp and hobbled along to find another vantage point. He was out of sonar arrows, so from here out he was firing blind. But he saw a small frame sprinting towards the high ground!

     It was Ana, moving like an olympic athlete about a quarter of her age. She jumped atop stacked metal crates and laid flat with her eye behind the scope. It was risky exposing herself to the enemy this way, but this could only mean one thing - Ana was certain that her next shot would land. She just needed the other woman to make a move. 

     Hanzo channeled the energy of his hardlight tattoos. The dragons coiled with an electric blue light, ready to rampage at their master’s order. Hanzo waited until he was certain the tattoo was fully charged. Then he spun off of the wall with a pained snarl. 

     “LET THE DRAGON CONSUME YOU!” 

     He fired his arrow in the last direction that he saw the enemy sniper. The dragons roared as they rushed over the building in pursuit of the arrow. The barrage of hardlight surged over anything that wasn’t bolted down, knocking it out of the way with concussive force. But Hanzo stopped looking at his dragons. He looked instead at Ana. 

     Ana laid still even now as the dragons rampaged, But then he heard the shot of her gun and the scream of the enemy sniper, and he saw Ana rise. She’d landed her shot! But then to his horror, she turned her gun on him!

     Hanzo’s eyes widened as Ana shot him. There was a pinch…and then there was a numbing. He felt himself relaxing as the pain faded into the back of his mind. Then he looked down. He had forgotten that Ana’s gun was also a long distance version of Mercy’s healing ray. His skin was reconstructing itself! He undid the tourniquet as his flesh spat out the bullet from the enemy sniper. 

     “I have this area secured, but we’ve been breached! Advance into the spaceport, now!” Ana yelled. Hanzo tied his hair back up and broke into a cold sprint, running like a man possessed. He had only been into the cosmodrome once during his initial wanderings around the base, but if the enemy had truly infiltrated the area, that meant they had access to computers. Which meant they had access to Athena. 

     Hanzo manually opened the hatch doors and ran down the stairs, only to end up at another door. When he opened it he found himself rushing down a dark hallway, but he slowed at the sound of voices. His stomach twisted into a sickening coil and his heart leapt up into his neck. 

     It was Cole. 

     Hanzo quieted his steps stricter than he ever had before, channeling his tenured career as an assassin. He monitored his shadow to make sure nothing gave away his approach as he moved toward the sound of the voice. He could hear Cole as clear as day. He could also hear the sound of fingers typing at a keyboard. 

     “Reyes, stop this! This isn’t you! It’s not too late!” Cassidy argued, but it sounded more like a plea. Hanzo’s pulse was racing from the other side of the wall.

     “You have no idea who I am,” a distorted voice spat back. It was dark, menacing and buried in gravel. 

     “Fifty-five percent,” came a woman’s voice. Distinctly Irish from the accent. Hanzo swallowed. He remembered from Winston’s footage that the last time Overwatch was attacked, it was by the Reaper, and they were attempting to steal Athena’s matrix. Perhaps this was another attempt? Perhaps the battle outside was merely a distraction. But fifty-five percent meant they were already halfway to success!

     He dashed to the door and knocked an arrow. “Don’t move!” Hanzo barked, pulling the arrow back to the corner of his mouth with intent to fire. He looked around to assess the state of the room, taking in as many details as he could in the only spare second that he had. 

     Cassidy had been wounded and pushed to a corner. He was staring down the problem end of a large black shotgun that was surprisingly being wielded with one arm, despite the all but guaranteed kickback. He was being cornered by a hooded figure dressed in all black, with a white skull mask and black armor plating. Hanzo quickly recognized him as the Reaper. From the corner of his eye he could see a red haired woman typing at a computer, getting into Athena’s data. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. 

     The Reaper had only one gun aimed at Cassidy, but he was dual wielding. The other was pointed down at the floor, toward the corpse that he held pinned beneath his boot. The body was on the ground, glitching in a pool of blood and cybernetic fluid. And from this angle, the battle was over, and he wasn’t long for the afterlife. Hanzo lost the air in his lungs as his eyes dilated and his heart froze.  

     “...Genji!”

Chapter Text

FLASHBACK

     <<First form!>> Hanzo stood opposite Asa-sensei. They both took their stances with their bokken and mirrored each other as they moved through the cadence of the kata. His muscles had the movements memorized, and he swung the practice sword with intent to strike. They could hear the sound of the air being cut with their articulations as they transitioned from stance to stance. 

     <<Second form!>> Asa-sensei commanded. This was his favorite, because he was allowed to display his precision and ferocity. They moved in perfect sync, and he relished in the channeling of his internal power. Swordsmanship was the best part of his day, and as soon as this session ended he would be counting the minutes until the next lesson. He ended the kata by returning back to his defensive stance. 

     <<Third form!>> Asa-sensei called out. But this time she didn’t do it with him. She stepped aside to watch him, circling him like a drill sergeant. The thump of his foot hit the mat with each step in transition. Hanzo didn’t hesitate. He moved through the motions flawlessly, one right after the other. A high swing, two steps back, a low sweep, spinning into an overhead strike. The blade was an extension of his arm and his will. He finished the kata by returning back to his original stance and held a strong form, the focus clear in his eye. 

     <<Well done Hanzo,>> Asa-sensei said, and he smiled up at her enthusiastically. He was her prize student, as he was reminded frequently. She looked upon him with the pride of a parent, even though he wasn’t her son. It was a look that he craved from his father more than anyone. But it was almost as good when it came from Asa-sensei. 

     <<Thank you, Sensei.>> Hanzo said, dropping out of his stance. 

     <<Next lesson we’ll begin with form four. You displayed true precision today, but be careful not to go too far, or you might hurt yourself. Feel your emotions, but do not let them control you,>> she warned. He swallowed and nodded. 

     <<Yes sensei>> Hanzo said, but then he jumped at the sound of several wooden swords crashing to the floor. He cringed and looked to the side. It was Genji. His younger brother was old enough now to get into things that he shouldn’t, and young enough to get away with it without consequence. And what was worse was that he had become Hanzo’s shadow, much to the elder’s chagrin. Wherever he went, his younger brother followed. <<Genji!>> Hanzo fussed. 

     <<I’m sorry!>> Genji said quickly. Hanzo knew that he knew better, but no one else seemed to grasp the limits of Genji’s adolescent cunning. Including Asa-sensei, who playfully ‘tsked and approached the younger brother, dropping down to her knees. 

     <<Little one, it isn’t time yet for you to be training with swords,>> Asa-sensei cautioned, checking him to see if he was alright. 

     <<But I want to train too…>> Genji pressed, hiding his hands behind his back and moving about. The guilt radiated off of him now that he had made a fuss. So he made certain to crank his adorable factor up to a solid eight and half. It worked every time. Hanzo just rolled his eyes and moved to put his own bokken away. 

     <<Your day will come. But not until your parents give their blessing,>> Asa-sensei said, and playfully tapped his nose. He wrinkled it in response, trying not to smile at her. He failed. Asa-sensei stood back up and turned to Hanzo. <<That will be all for today’s session. You are dismissed.>>

     <<I can put those away Sensei>> Hanzo volunteered, rushing up to clean his younger brother’s mess. She smiled at him. 

     <<I’ve got it, Hanzo. Don’t worry. Go and clean up before your other tutors arrive,>> Asa-Sensei said. He never disobeyed her. He simply bowed.

     <<Yes Sensei.>> And with that Hanzo was off. He slid open the paper doors to the training dojo and walked through the halls of the Shimada estate back to his own chambers. But then he heard a pair of tiny feet running down the hall to catch up with him. So naturally he walked a little faster. 

     Genji wasn’t swayed. He just giggled and ran a little faster. Hanzo sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a younger sibling. Most days he was actually glad that he had someone to play with now. The issue was that now that Genji was around, Hanzo suddenly had responsibilities that he didn’t have before. 

     If Genji fell - Hanzo should have been watching him. If Genji was crying - Hanzo needed to know what was wrong. When Genji ate too much and made himself sick, their parents fussed over him and ignored Hanzo entirely. But the worst part of all, was that whenever he did something, Genji had to do the exact same thing which meant all of a sudden that Hanzo couldn’t do much of anything at all. 

     If Hanzo wore a hat, that meant Genji needed a hat. And if he took his off, then Genji took his off as well. Hanzo couldn’t do anything without his newfound clone trying to do the same thing. He didn’t have to share anything when he was an only child. Now whatever was his, was his younger brother’s. And if he pushed back, Genji would turn on the ever running faucet of his tears. And the only thing worse than Genji’s tears, was the draconic roar of his father that would surely follow. 

     Hanzo walked a little faster, so Genji broke into a run. Hanzo made it to his door, slid it open, and then slid it closed to let Genji know he was not welcome. Genji opened it anyway. <<Genji wait. I need to bathe.>>

     <<But I need to use it!>> Genji said. 

     <<Find another one. I’m using this one.>> Hanzo said tersely. 

     <<But I have to go nooooowwwww!>> Genji argued. Hanzo rolled his eyes. 

     << Fine. Stay here, then!>> Hanzo said, already having had his fill of his brother’s antics at the tender hour of eleven o’clock in the morning. He moved past him as if he weren’t there. But as soon as he opened the door and walked out into the hallway, Genji darted out after him. Hanzo rounded on him. <<What are you doing? Go use it.>> 

     <<I don’t have to use it anymore.>> Genji said. 

     <<You just said you had to go,>> Hanzo sneered, arguing with this indomitable brat. His patience was thinning by the second. 

     <<It was a mistake. I don’t have to go.>> Genji said, crossing his arms and raising his voice. Hanzo threw up his hands. 

     <<Fine. Then go play. I need to take a bath and go to class.>> Hanzo said, moving around Genji and going back to the bathroom. But when he opened the sliding door and tried to close it behind him, he heard - 

     <<Wait!>> 

     <<No!>> Hanzo barked back.

     <<But I really have to go this time!>> Genji whined.

     <<Then go find another bathroom!>> Hanzo said louder. As if on cue, his mother’s footsteps came from around the corner. 

     <<Alright boys, what’s going on?>> She asked. Both boys broke into their versions of the story, talking over each other to try to sway her to their cause. She gathered the gist of what happened. <<Alright, alright, alright, that’s enough. Come on Genji. Hanzo doesn’t want to be bothered right now,>> she said, picking the little one up and walking down the stairs. 

     <<But Mom! I want to go to class with Hanzo!>> Genji said, even as his mother carried him off. Hanzo threw up his hands and went about his business, closing the paper door behind him. He washed up and prepared for his next class, resenting the accusation that his mother had levied his way. It wasn’t that Genji was being an annoying brat. It was that he ‘didn’t feel like being bothered.’ It was always his fault. Never Genji’s. 

***

     They had dinner together as a family, sitting down at the tatami table. It started with a miso soup, and then they were served grilled wagyu beef with tsukemono and kinpira gobo with rice. Hanzo had learned from his own patterns to eat the vegetables first, so that they wouldn’t be the last taste on his tongue when he walked away from the table. He made quick work of the burdock roots and carrots, only slowing down when there was nothing left but the salty savory steak. 

     Genji however had none of that discipline. He helped himself readily to the beef, as Hanzo expected. So when Hanzo declared that he was finished eating, he demonstrated a clean plate and said <<Thank you for the meal,>> as he had been instructed. His father nodded at him, giving him permission to leave the table. Everything was going according to plan. Soon he would be reunited with his practice sword. 

     <<I’m done too!>> Genji announced, trying to push his plate away so that he could follow his brother away from the table. 

     <<You’re not done until those carrots are gone from that plate, little sparrow,>> Genji’s mother said. Genji’s pout was instantaneous. Hanzo didn’t stay to watch the show. He bowed and excused himself, hurriedly making his way to the door for fear that Genji might win this little dispute, and then he would be stuck babysitting again. He made it out of the dining room, and walked the maze of his ancestral home right back to his favorite place - the dojo. 

     Hanzo picked up the bokken, and walked himself through the forms again. He knew them frontward and backward now. He could do them in his sleep. In fact he often did, when the rest wouldn’t come to him as quickly as he might intend. While other children counted sheep, Hanzo Shimada counted the steps of his sword form in his mind, timing them with foe-slaying strikes painted by his imagination. 

     But then he decided to have a little fun, mixing in high kicks with his sword swings, tumbling along the floor as if dodging lethal blows. He narrated his actions out loud, the room around him disappearing to one made entirely of his mind’s eye. There he stood - the youngest samurai in history, wielding only his blade against an entire army of opponents. And in his mind’s theatre, he cut them all down one by one until he was snapped out of the illusion by the appearance of his pudgy little brother, trying to hide himself in the door frame. 

     Hanzo sighed. <<I see you,>> he said, as his brother tried to dart out of sight. Genji laughed. 

     <<Not anymore,>> Genji teased, beckoning his brother to come and find him. Hanzo rolled his eyes and walked right behind the door to where he knew Genji was. Only he wasn’t there. Hanzo looked around. He was confused, and actually impressed, though he would never admit it. Genji had never managed to stump him before. 

     Hanzo searched all around the door frame, but then he saw Genji’s shadow moving up from behind him. He smirked to himself, knowing the moment was too good to be true and waiting for Genji to inevitably try to pounce on him and take him by surprise. Then came the thumps of his younger brother’s footsteps as he ran toward him. Hanzo turned just in time to catch him and spin him around. Genji laughed. 

     <<You’re getting better, but your feet are still too loud,>> Hanzo said with a smirk. Genji stuck his tongue out, but then immediately covered his mouth. But not fast enough. <<What was that?>> Hanzo asked sternly. Genji shook his head. <<Genji, open your mouth,>> Hanzo said tersely. Genji shook his head again. Hanzo put him down. <<Fine. Have it your way,>> Hanzo said before taking a deep breath and beginning to call for his mother. 

     <<Wait! Don’t tell, don't tell!>> Genji pleaded.

     <<Then open your mouth,>> Hanzo insisted, widening his eyes to let his brother know he was serious. Genji pouted, but then opened his mouth. There were bits of carrot from the dinner earlier, wedged into the pouches of his cheek and under his tongue like a foraging squirrel. Hanzo made a face and cringed. <<Oh that’s nasty. Genji!>> Hanzo fussed. He grabbed Genji’s hand and took him to the bathroom. 

     He opened the toilet. <<Spit it out,>> Hanzo instructed, and Genji spat out chunks of chewed carrot into the porcelain whirlpool. Hanzo closed the lid and flushed before washing his own hands and holding Genji up so that he could wash his as well. <<You know better than that, Genji,>> Hanzo chided. 

     <<But carrots are naaaastyyyyyy!>> Genji whined, haphazardly clapping soap all over his hands, before running them through the water. 

     <<That’s why I told you to eat them first. Just chew them and swallow them quickly so you don’t taste them,>> Hanzo said. 

     <<But I always taste them!>> Genji continued to whine. Hanzo put him down on the floor and then turned off the water for the sink. They dried their hands. Hanzo just shook his head. 

     <<You’re lucky you got away with that. If mom and dad had caught you, you would be in big trouble. I should tell them what you did right now.>> Hanzo said. 

     <<No! Please!>> Genji whined a little too loud. 

     <<What’s going on in there?>> Came their father’s voice. Hanzo made a face at Genji, as if to say ‘see what you’ve done?’ Genji looked at him worriedly, not knowing what to say. Hanzo rolled his eyes. 

     <<Nothing dad. Genji just ate a little too fast, so he had to spit up,>> Hanzo lied, not telling his dad that Genji had only pretended to eat his carrots. But the paper door slid open anyway. Sojiro picked up Genji, looking into his eyes. 

     <<What did I tell you about chewing your food little Sparrow?>> Sojiro asked, looking him in the eye. Genji deflated. 

     <<I’m sorry. I thought I did it right this time…>> Genji said, hamming up the roll of ‘innocent second born’ almost entirely too well. Sojiro had always been strict with him, but Hanzo couldn’t help but notice the way that Genji had his father wrapped around his finger. Sometimes he wondered if it was because Genji looked so much like their mother, while he looked just like his father. He watched as Sojiro playfully teased Genji, and they laughed together unobstructed. 

     Hanzo just rolled his eyes and left. He went back to the dojo and put his bokken away, deciding to put some healthy distance between himself and his family. He went to his room and closed the door, changing out of his dinner clothes, and into his pajamas for the evening. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, and then grabbed a book off of the bookshelf, bringing it over to his bed. Once he got into the sheets, he sat up against the headboard and turned on the bedside lamp, so he could begin reading a chapter. 

     Then his paper door slid open. Hanzo looked over to the door. It was his mother, coming to bid him good night, only he looked irritated. <<Mom! Could you ask before coming into my room?>> Hanzo chided his mother. She made a show of mock shock. 

     <<I have to ask, now? But I’m your mother,>> She asked, offended at the line being drawn between them. But Hanzo stood his ground. 

     <<I have to ask before I enter your room, don’t I? I could have been naked!>> Hanzo said. His mother made a face. 

     <<Sweetheart, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’ve already seen you naked,>> She said. Hanzo’s face went red with embarrassment. 

     <<MOM!>> He whined, and she laughed. 

     <<Okay, okay. I’m sorry Hanzo. I’ll knock next time I come in. But it seems like you’re growing so fast. You used to call for me to come tuck you in at night. Now you do it all by yourself,>> She said, moving over to his bed and sitting on the side of it. 

     <<Well that’s not my fault! I didn’t tell you to have another baby. I would’ve stayed young forever if Genji didn’t come,>> Hanzo argued, crossing his arms like the child he swore he wasn’t anymore. His mother made a face. 

     <<Hey, what’s that about hunh? You don’t love your brother?>> She asked, playfully poking at his side. He tried to pretend he wasn’t ticklish anymore, even though he instinctively jumped away.

     <<I do…but he can be annoying sometimes! He’s always copying me,>> Hanzo said. 

     <<Who else is he supposed to copy? You’re his only brother sweetheart.>> 

     <<Well I didn’t copy anybody!”>> Hanzo said. 

     <<Oh? You think all of these samurai swords and ninja gear were all your idea first, hm? You didn’t see anyone else with them before you?>> His mother argued. 

     <<N-No!>> Hanzo said, but he could feel himself being outwitted. She always outwitted him.

     <<From your entire family of warriors, hm? You’re the only one?>> His mother teased. Hanzo scrunched up his face and then hid beneath the sheets, defeated and miserable. But his mother’s tickling hands coaxed him back out of the bed in a fit of laughter. 

     <<Stop! Stop! Okay!>> Hanzo relented, sitting back up in the bed, out of breath from the laughter. 

     <<And for the record, even if I have six more babies, you’ll always be my baby. Don’t forget that, alright?>> His mother said, but Hanzo’s eyes widened in horror. 

     <<SIX?>> Hanzo cried out in protest, and his mother laughed and then leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

     <<Good night, Hanzo,>> His mother said before standing up off of his bed. Hanzo grumbled and sighed before finally relenting. 

     <<Night…>> Hanzo said, easing down into bed. When his mother exited the room, he turned on the lamp by his bedside so that he could read his book. His eyes scanned the lines of text quietly, until they grew heavy with the labor of maintaining their own weight. Slowly but surely his eyes slid down until they closed, and he eased from his seated position until his head was on the pillow, and the book laid haphazardly in the bed next to him as he drifted off to sleep. 

****

     Hanzo woke up. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t know what it was, or why it wasn’t, but he trusted his intuition. He got out of the bed, his instincts telling him to keep his footsteps quiet. He looked out of his window, but there were no signs of anything improper. He made his way out of the room and into the hallway. 

     It was dark. Normally the threat of the unknown at the end of a dark hallway was enough to send him right back to bed. But his curiosity got the better of him as he began to slink down the passage like a stray cat. The balls of his feet pressed down on the matted floors and he transferred his weight in the steps evenly so that he wouldn’t be discovered being out of bed at odd hours. He reached a crossroads at the hallway, seeing that it was clear on both sides. His parent’s room was down the left, but Genji’s room was on the right.

     His parents would be fine, he already knew. But that same nagging sensation that got him out of the bed told him to check on his silly little brother. Genji had a nasty habit of smuggling in animals from the garden, and then suddenly there would be a toad hopping around on the living room table, terrorizing their respectable home. Hanzo made his way over to the little Sparrow’s door, but he saw that it was already open. Maybe Genji had gotten out of bed, and that’s what woke him up. He peered in. 

     Genji was there fast asleep, but he wasn’t alone. There was a figure dressed in all black inching toward his brother’s bed. And then there was a glint in the corner of his eye that must have caught the moonlight. It looked like he was wielding a blade! Hanzo’s eyes widened in panic and then he looked around. There was a katana on the wall, held up by its embedded mounts. He unsheathed it before running into the room. 

     <<LEAVE HIM ALONE!>> Hanzo screamed, and the attacked turned to face him. Hanzo swung the katana just as Asa-sensei had trained him. The figure jumped back, and Genji woke up hearing the commotion. He opened his eyes and screamed at the top of his lungs, seeing Hanzo with his sword drawn, and the strange man in his room. The man grabbed Genji’s ankle, yanking him roughly into his arm before climbing out the window, as Genji screamed the entire time. 

     <<HANZO!>> Genji cried.

     <<GENJI!>> Hanzo yelled, jumping right out of the window after his brother’s abductor. He ran as fast as he could, chasing the attacker with reckless abandon. The attacker sheathed his blade and then climbed a wall up to the second floor. Hanzo put his katana handle in his teeth and bit down to hold it as he climbed the wall after the attacker. The man was taller and faster, but holding a struggling Genji in his arms made him slow down in ways that Hanzo didn’t have to. Hanzo closed the distance between them and took a swing at the attacker, who barely managed to dodge the attack. 

     But dodge as he might have, the lights began to flicker on in the Shimada estate, as servants and extended family rose from their beds. Miscellaneous voices began to call for the boys. Hanzo answered them. 

     <<HELP! WE’RE BEING ATTACKED! HE HAS GENJI! WE’RE IN THE SHRINE!>> Hanzo screamed as he swung at the assailant again, but this time the assailant blocked the strike with his own wakizashi, holding Genji in his other arm. Hanzo kept the pressure up, relentlessly attacking his sword arm, to keep him from using that sword on his younger brother. He managed to force the assailant against the bannister, watching as his back rocked with the danger of imbalance. 

     The attacker straightened himself up before holding young Genji over the bannister, threatening to drop him. Genji screamed. Hanzo grit his teeth and ran forward blindly, ready to do whatever was necessary to stop this man from hurting his younger brother. And then his heart plummeted as the assassin let go of the Genji, dropping him over the ledge. 

     Hanzo leapt over the balcony after him, reaching out to grab Genji, and then turning and using the katana to slow their fall down to the ground. He cut deep into the wooden support beam that stabilized the second floor, holding Genji in one arm, and supporting both of their weight with the other. They only slowed for the moment, but it was enough for Hanzo to regain his balance and stick the landing. 

     He held his younger brother in his arms tight as Genji screamed and cried, clinging to Hanzo. Hanzo hadn’t realized how fast his heart was beating until his feet were on the ground and his brother was safe in his arms. His eyes darted around as if looking for other attackers. That was when he noticed the drops of blood that came down on him and his brother from above.  Hanzo looked up in time to see the attacker beheaded, his corpse leaking over the side of the railing as the head fell to the ground with an unceremonious thump. 

     <<Hanzo! Genji!!>> Their mother cried as she darted for them, wrapping them both in her arms.

     <<Is everyone alright? What is the meaning of this? Where are my guards!>> Sojiro raged at the servants around them. But Hanzo just kept his arms around Genji, leaning into his mother and staring open eyed at the severed head of the attacker on the ground next to him. She carried them both into another room, closing the door behind them. She looked over both boys to make sure that they weren’t hurt. Genji was unharmed, but Hanzo had a scrape on his knee. 

     <<Are you okay? Talk to me! What happened?>> His mother asked, immediately seeing to Hanzo’s leg. He let her sit him down as she moved his leg back and forth to see if the injury was any worse. <<Hanzo! What happened?>> His mother asked again. Hanzo was in shock. He looked at her as if he didn’t recognize her for a moment before gathering his words. 

     <<I-I don’t know. I woke up in the middle of the night and I just…I thought something was wrong…>> Hanzo said, but then the door opened again and Genji screamed. Hanzo jumped up to defend his mother. But it was his father, rushing over to them. 

     <<What happened?>> He barked, and Hanzo swallowed. 

     <<Someone tried to kill Genji, but I fought him,>> Hanzo said quickly, and Genji cried at the top of his lungs. Sojiro went to Genji’s side immediately, picking him up and rocking him back and forth in his arms. Hanzo watched his mother and father exchange a very telling look, but then they both focused back in on their children. 

     His mother turned his head, forcing him to look at her. She was scanning his eyes for any sign of deception or anything more, but he just looked back at her with eyes of shock and adrenaline, on a face too young to understand anything of what was going on. She looked back to her husband. 

     <<Sojiro - >> She began.

     <<The tiger grows too bold. Genji is starting training tomorrow. And I’m tripling the guard,>> Sojiro decreed loudly as he marched out of the room with a crying Genji tight in his arms. It was only then that Hanzo saw the blood that stained his father’s pajamas. It had been he who slew the attacker. Sojiro continued to yell at the servants, demanding to know who was on security detail that night. But as his voice disappeared down the hallway, Hanzo lost track of it, turning instead to look at his mother. 

     Her eyes were filled with tears as she sobbed openly on Hanzo. And when she cried, Hanzo finally let himself cry as well. They held each other close until they both stopped crying, and she sat him back down to look at his knee once more. It was nothing more than a scrape. His mother took him to the bathroom, washing the cut before bandaging it with a first aid kit. 

     <<Mom who was that?>> Hanzo asked at last. 

     <<I don’t know sweetheart…>> His mother said, shaking her head, her voice scratchy from the sobs she let loose earlier. 

     <<Why would someone want to hurt Genji? H-he’s just a little kid…>> Hanzo said, choking up a little. His mother pulled him into her embrace once more, rocking him from side to side, soothing him the only way she knew how to. 

     <<There are horrible people in this world, Hanzo-shi. Horrible people who would even hurt children. I don’t know why this man chose to attack your brother, but I promise you - your father and I will handle this.>> She said, tilting his chin up to make him look her in the eye. He complied and nodded, and she kissed his forehead. <<You promise you’re okay? You’re not hiding anything from me?>> She asked once more. He nodded. 

     <<I’m okay. Is Genji okay?>> Hanzo asked. 

     <<He’s okay. He’s just scared. He’s going to want to sleep with your father tonight, you know how he gets. I’ll sleep in your room,>> she said, but Hanzo shook his head. 

      <<No, I’m okay. Genji will want you there too,>> Hanzo said.

     <<Hanzo - >>

     <<Mom, I’m okay. I promise. I just want to go to bed, I’m really tired. Can we talk about it in the morning?>> Hanzo asked, knowing that even in his distress he needed to be rational and remember his manners. His mother looked him over once more, before rising to her feet. She held out her hand for him to take, and he took it as she walked him back to his room. She looked around his room for any sign of intruders or suspicious activity, but Hanzo’s room had been perfectly untouched. Somehow, the assassin knew to come for Genji specifically. 

     She brought Hanzo to bed, tucking him in and kissing his forehead. Her eyes were wet with tears as she looked at Hanzo unblinkingly. He could read her mind. 

     <<I’m okay, Mom,>> He said once more. She took a deep breath and gently caressed his cheek repeatedly with her thumb. 

     <<I’m sorry sweetheart. You shouldn’t have been exposed to this this young.You weren’t supposed to know…>> She said, her voice getting choked up again.

     <<I’m not a baby anymore,>> Hanzo insisted. She looked at him sternly, a hot tear falling down her cheek. 

     <<You will always be my baby,>> she reminded him fiercely, and his own eyes watered back at hers. Genji and his father might have had a special bond that he would never be able to imitate. But he and his mother had something very similar, and so when she cried, he cried. He had special insight into her pain. He knew what she needed. He smiled and laughed, and then she laughed back at him. Tension relieved. 

     <<But I did fight off my first attacker. Does this mean I can have my own katana?>> Hanzo asked, sitting up in bed with excitement. His mother made a face, and immediately rose from the side of his bed. That did the trick. 

     <<Good night, Hanzo. We’ll talk about this in the morning,>> she said sternly, walking over to the door. 

     <<But mom! I want a katana!>> Hanzo called after her. 

     <<Good night, Hanzo.>> She said once more, closing the door behind her. But Hanzo could see her silhouette in the paper screen. She stayed there for some time, still facing him and no doubt crying over what had just happened. But eventually the fatigue came down upon her as well, and she took the first couple of steps away from her first born’s bedroom. 

     In the dark, Hanzo laid back down, his heart still thumping from everything that had just happened. He craved sleep, but his mind simply wouldn’t rest. Who was that man? What if another attacker came? What if they came for him this time, rather than Genji? His mind rushed with questions, and he had no answers, other than the image of those dark eyes burned into his memory, and the sight of blood raining from the railing above his head. 

     Who was that man?   And as a matter of fact, who was he, himself? He thought his training had been a reward for how well he had done academically. Not a mandatory facet of his upbringing. And now Genji would be training as well, an entire two years younger than when he first started. His mind raced with questions, and those questions created more questions. He lost track of time as he laid still, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on what could have been as his pulse slowly descended from its elevated state of adrenaline. 

     There was a world where he died this night. There was an outcome where Genji was thrown from the bannister to his death, and Hanzo was left the only child. If he hadn’t moved when he moved, his entire life would have been irreparably altered. But who was to say that it hadn’t been, anyway? Hanzo’s heart began to grow heavy with concerns he’d never thought to concern himself with. 

     So it was no wonder that when his door slid open again, he bolted upright, and immediately looked for something to defend himself with. But his eyes focused on pudgy little Genji, standing in his doorway in his pajamas. Hanzo looked at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning. 

     <<Genji?>> Hanzo asked. 

     <<Hanzo…I’m scared…>> Genji confessed, his voice shaking. Hanzo paused and then got out of bed. 

     <<Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom one more time, and then you can come sleep with me,>> he said, the questions in his mind being silenced by his calling of being the eldest brother. He took Genji’s hand and walked with him down the hallway to the bathroom, watching him relieve himself, and then holding him up to the sink so that he could wash his hands once more. Then he took the young Genji back to his bed, letting him in first so that he could sleep up against the wall. 

     Hanzo slid in next to him, and Genji snuggled up to him, closing his eyes. Hanzo sighed and shook his head, before turning off the light. 

     <<Can we leave the light on?>> Genji asked. 

     <<Don’t be scared, Genji. I’m right here. And dad said you’re going to start training with me tomorrow, so you’ll be able to fight next time that happens,>> Hanzo said. But Genji looked up to him with scared eyes. 

     <<Next time?>> Genji said but Hanzo shushed him. 

     <<I didn’t mean it like that. I mean…ugh just…don’t worry, okay? Just go to bed. I’ll protect you.>> Hanzo said, and pulled the blanket up over them. He closed his eyes. 

     <<You promise?>> Genji whispered in the dark. Hanzo didn’t bother to open his eyes. He just pulled his brother in closer with one arm, tucking him into his embrace.  

     <<I promise. I’ll protect you. Always .>>

*****

PRESENT DAY 

     Hanzo didn’t know what to do. There was a gun pointed at Cassidy, a gun pointed at Genji, and a malevolent scientist at the computer trying to steal Athena’s matrix. He was one man with one arrow, and six seconds on the clock. But from the corner of his eye, he could see the kanji on the arrow that he had knocked and pointed at Reaper.  

     It was a scatter arrow. Once fired, it would break off into several smaller arrows, but he needed to find the angle, otherwise he could end up killing himself and everyone in the room. He spoke to himself in his mind. It’s geometry. The trajectory of the arrow follows a parabolic arc. Y equals the height of the arrow at distance. X is the horizontal distance traveled. The tangent will give him the slope of the trajectory. 

     Hanzo made his calculations and aimed his arrow away from Reaper and lowered it down to the floor, just past where Genji’s foot was. He took two steps back and loosed the arrow. It hit the floor, before breaking off into several smaller arrows, all of which ricocheted off into different directions. One arrow hit the wall, and then the roof, and then the computer that the red haired woman was using to pilfer Athena’s matrix, terminating the process. 

     Another arrow went from the floor, to the wall, to the roof, down to the Reaper’s calf, forcing him to take his foot off of his brother, and giving Genji the moment he needed to roll away and recuperate himself. And another arrow went from the floor, to the wall, to the roof, to another wall, and then over to the gun that was aimed at Cassidy, forcing the Reaper to either drop that gun, or lose that hand. 

     He chose wisely, dropping the gun just in time, as the arrow soared past his hand and Cassidy’s face, out to the hallway from which Hanzo entered. But that was only one of the Reaper’s guns. The other gun that had been trained on Genji was now being pointed directly at Hanzo. 

     “REYES DON’T!” Cassidy shouted at the top of his lungs. But the Reaper pulled the trigger, and Hanzo hit the ground after being blown back from the impact. His vision immediately went black. Reaper’s shotgun fired twenty pellets at once, sixteen of which landed squarely in Hanzo’s torso. 

     Hanzo Shimada was no more.

Chapter Text

     The staggered tones of the vital monitor were uneven. He was counting them, but the most recent chime lost pace in an unflattering way. The offense was dire enough to provoke him from the stillness of his unconscious state. His eyes lulled lazily, brushing against crusted corners. Next came his shoulders, hips, thighs, and toes. Once the blood made it to his arms, he reached between his legs to assess his most vital organ. It was still there. 

     His vision slowly honed to focus, making sense of the dimly lit white expanse before him. His head was propped up on a pillow, and he had been looking through his lash-line at the bed sheets draped over him. There were guard rails on both sides of the bed, and there were small plastic tubes wired around and within his body. 

     It took him a couple of seconds to articulate the thought, but he deduced his location as the medical wing of the Gibraltar. He looked over and monitored his own heart rate. It was unstable, which explained the crooked rhythm that his ears picked up on. But now that he had awakened, he noticed it seemed to be leveling out just below his usual rate. He took a deep breath. 

     “You are awake?” Hanzo’s vision snapped to clarity. Even in its digital remastering, he would know Genji’s voice anywhere. He tried to play it cool, but the vital monitor denied him any sense of subtlety. It spiked with his astonishment, and then slowed with his relief. 

     “You are alive?” Hanzo croaked, turning his head over to face Genji. Genji’s armor was gone. In its place, the internal anatomy of his cybernetic body was exposed—pumping, humming, and functional. Hanzo had seen his share of organs and gore; his lifestyle made it an inevitability. But this was different. Personal. Violating. The sight of Genji’s mechanical circulatory system working in perfect sync was awe-inspiring and wrong in every way. From this view, he truly looked like an Omnic.  

     “We all are,” Genji answered. Hanzo was embarrassed at the way that his heart rate completely evened out. His shoulders lowered and his toes wiggled again. His body ached from the perpetual stillness, but the tubes in his veins turned the smallest of movements into perilous endeavors. He shifted to relieve some of the accumulated pressure in his tailbone, but his chest ached in return. Everything led to suffering.

     Even still, he sat up and endured the protests of his body. He knew pain as the price of progress, but he needed a distraction. So he continued the conversation. “What happened?” Hanzo asked. 

     “It started like any other day at base. Then Cassidy asked for leave to go to Japan. I assumed he was going after you, so I offered to join him to make amends with you. But before we left, Winston triggered a lockdown. Talon had come.” Genji said. Hanzo finally looked away from Genji’s internal organs and up to his eyes, giving him rapt attention. “Cassidy and I were holding the cliffside together before you arrived. But when he saw the Reaper he left his post. He must have known that Reaper is Commander Reyes. I did not know until today.”  

     Hanzo felt a small twinge of guilt for not having told his brother. He knew, but by proxy of Cassidy. And it was the cowboy’s secret to tell. Whatever passed between Cassidy, Genji, and Reyes during Blackwatch was none of his business. Genji continued. “By every measure of training, I should have let him go alone, and held my position, but…I couldn’t let anything happen to him. Not again,” Genji said, alluding to the previous mission where Cassidy was fatally wounded. Before Hanzo could interject, Genji continued. “He tried to fight them off but Commander Reyes is an actual one man army. He can take a bullet to the chest and his body will spit it back out and close the wound. He defeated us both. That’s when you arrived.”

     “My memories fail me,” Hanzo said, shaking his head. As he tried to recall what happened, he groaned in agony. His body hadn’t yet processed the trauma. It seemed his mind was protecting him from the pain. But as the visuals came back to him, the ache made itself known as well. 

     “Your aim was true. You managed to stop Talon from taking Athena, and you disarmed Reaper, but then he shot you. Your heart stopped beating. Your blood was everywhere,” Genji said, the hesitation in his voice choking out those last words. Hanzo’s pulse hastened and then slowed again with his breath. “It was…a gruesome sight. But it gave Cassidy the push he needed to stop holding back.”

     “Cole is soft .” Hanzo grumbled his critique through a dry throat. He continued to wiggle his toes and digits to hasten his recovery, flexing individual muscles to confirm that nothing had fallen into atrophy. He slowly turned to look over at Genji again. “Thank you for protecting him. Forgive his inconvenience, but…he means something to me. Something …I suppose.”

     “You do not need to thank me. He means something to me, too.” Genji said. Hanzo couldn’t peel his eyes away. This was his brother. He knew in his bone marrow that this was his flesh and blood in the bed beside him. But seeing him in this state, sustained by machinery in defiance of what he attempted on his lowest night, made him feel empty where he should have felt nauseous. His eyes lidded heavily. Genji could feel him staring, so he continued talking. “I took on Moira, while Cole brought down Reaper. But before we could bring them in, they both phased away.” 

     Hanzo nodded and looked ahead, recalling the way that he had seen Reaper move in the security footage that Winston played for him. If Moira were the scientist that invented the technique, it would stand to reason that she could do the same. He tucked that nugget of knowledge away for later. “Were there any casualties?”

     “You and I received the worst of Talon’s damage. The others are all alright, though we will need to move bases soon. This battle captured media attention. We cannot forget that Overwatch is still illegal, due to the Petras act,” Genji answered, his eyes moving with his thoughts. But then he laughed and broke the tension.

     “You find this funny?” Hanzo asked, sounding more annoyed than he actually was.

     “It seems we were destined to be criminals. Just perhaps not in the way we thought,” Genji said. Hanzo tried his best not to smirk, but he couldn’t stop the snicker that slipped out of his throat. It was legitimately funny. His lips naturally curved up with the sound. Genji smirked back. 

     Hanzo looked over at his brother again, his smirk falling back into his usual frown. His eyes roamed up and down the workings of Genji’s cyborg body. Every fiber in his being shriveled up in revolt at the thought of what he was about to do. But he had avoided this conversation for entirely too long, and seeing Genji in this state - and remembering Genji leaking fluids on the floor - was the awakening he needed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology.” Hanzo said. 

     Genji shook his head ‘no.’ “You do not.” 

     “I owe you several apologies,”: Hanzo insisted.

     “I should have checked the area for that sniper,” Genji argued, critiquing himself over the last argument they had when Cassidy was shot by Talon’s sniper. But Hanzo wasn’t talking about that. That paled in comparison to what he had done. Cassidy made it out of that mission in a sling and a neck brace. Meanwhile Genji laid next to him, his chest opened up like the hood of a hover-car, complete with a makeshift engine. He was more machine than man. “My carelessness cost us again.” 

     Hanzo switched seamlessly to Japanese. <<You are my brother. There is no world where I was ever supposed to bring my blade to you.>> The room went dead silent with the added weight of nuance. The younger brother clenched his teeth shut, the emotional comprehension of what Hanzo meant by ‘several apologies,’ finally sinking in. Hanzo lowered his head in shame. 

     He took a deep breath through his nose. The weight of his words held him back, but he overcame their suffocation and pushed forward with his voice. <<I was not ready to be Oyabun . I thought I was, but I wasn’t. The clan elders…the branch families…they were watching every move that I made. Waiting for that soft underbelly of youth to betray me. Waiting for the excuse to depose us as heads. My own mistakes were magnified and scrutinized, but on top of watching out for myself I…>> Hanzo cut himself off, shaking his head in disgust. <<I am making excuses. I was supposed to be your protector, but look at what I’ve done,>> Hanzo said, swallowing and wrinkling his face in disgust. 

     <<Stop it,>> Genji said, not yet ready for this conversation. Hanzo ignored him. 

     <<You need not forgive me. I do not expect that you ever will. But I need you to know that I would give anything to take that back. Anything,>> Hanzo said, closing his eyes and shaking his head in complete shame. 

     Genji took a breath. He looked away, blinking to blot away the moisture in his eyes. The room went silent, save for the unsynchronized beeping of their vital monitors. But after a prolonged moment, Genji picked up the conversation. <<They were harder on you than they ever were on me,>> Genji said, and Hanzo showed his miscomprehension with his eyebrows. Genji elaborated. 

     <<Our parents. At first it bothered me. It used to make me feel like they didn’t take me seriously. As if I were incapable of doing what you do. But then I got comfortable letting you carry that weight on your own. You made it look easy.>> Genji said. He turned to look over at Hanzo, whose eyes were burning with tears that wouldn’t fall. These words had been in the back of his mind for as long as he could remember. But they were his darkest thoughts. He did his best to make sure they never saw daylight. <<But I should have pulled my share of the weight. Especially after mom and dad passed. You went through all of that on your own,>> Genji said, and Hanzo shook his head in refusal. 

     <<So did you,>> Hanzo said, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist in anger at himself. He didn’t deserve to cry. He wouldn’t. <<I became so obsessed with being perfect, that I forgot to be your brother.>> 

     <<At least you have an excuse. I just forgot,>> Genji said, shaking his head and looking away. << I am sorry .>> 

     <<Do not apologize to me. I was wrong, not you,>> Hanzo growled. Genji turned to look him in the eye, so he could apologize again.

     <<I am sorry that I did not support you in the way that a younger brother should. I am sorry that I watched you take all of that on, without ever considering what it was doing to you. I am sorry that I put you in a position where you had to choose between me, and the rest of our clan. It was an impossible decision to make. But more than anything I am sorry for the way that you punish yourself for this now. You are so disgraced with yourself that you cast aside joy, even when it reaches for you. So allow me to apologize to you, and carry my share of the weight. You do not have to do everything yourself .>>

     Hanzo shook his head. He didn’t want to hear any of this. Absolutely none of this was Genji’s fault. It never was. It was all him . He hissed, taking a breath as his eyes burned with the need for relief. But Genji just kept going.

     <<You killed me that night. And in that same stroke you sent me into the arms of the love of my life. I harbored resentment, but I no longer wish ill on you, or anyone else. If you still bear grief, know that you bear it of your own origin,>> Genji said, and Hanzo laughed a dry humorless laugh.

     <<I shoulder burdens that only I can bear, because I have invented them in my own mind…>> Hanzo said, echoing the exact words that his brother said to him on his darkest day. He looked up at the ceiling, admitting defeat at last, as a hot tear slid down the side of his face in disgrace.  They sat there in uncomfortable silence with each other, now that the conversation took an unexpectedly heavy turn. Hanzo broke the mold. 

     <<I appreciate the sentiment but I refuse your apology. You owe me nothing. I owe you more than I’ll ever be able to repay,>> Hanzo said, the tears coming out of his eyes freely now, spilling down the slopes of his cheekbones, creating rivers on the map of his face. <<I will become the brother I should have been for you that night. I swear it.>>

     << You can’t. >> Genji said, and Hanzo froze with the rejection, his heart splitting in half. He turned to look at Genji, his anxiety choking him. He knew there was a chance that Genji would say as much, even after all this. But the thought of his brother casting him aside was a knife to the chest that he hadn’t properly braced for.  <<Hanzo Shimada was my older brother. He died three hours ago, protecting me - as he always did. But you? I don’t know you.>> 

     Hanzo took a breath, trying to understand what riddles Genji spoke in now. Genji didn’t leave him in suspension for long.  << And you don’t owe me anything - protection least of all. Who you are now, and who you become is entirely up to you. It is a long journey. But it is worth it on the other side. And when you get there, I hope that you will allow me the chance to know you. The real you, >> Genji said. Hanzo faltered. Another hot tear came down his cheek. He looked away and wiped it immediately.

     <<I died…?>> Hanzo asked warily. Genji nodded.

     <<When you signed the waiver to let Angela heal your knee, you agreed to donate your body to science. It allowed her to use unregulated medical techniques to resuscitate you. But legally you are dead. There will be a funeral for you. Your inheritance will go to your next of kin. You’ll have to change your name and start all over. But Overwatch can help with that. You can choose every aspect of your life now. You can even choose not to be my brother, if you would prefer.>> Genji explained. 

     The pressure to be perfect was a phantom that slept on Hanzo’s chest every night. It had been choking him since childhood, strangling him back into place whenever he pulled away. It haunted his subconscious, his dreams, and his memories. But he took a deep breath, and felt the full capacity of his lungs. It was something he didn’t realize that he’d been living without. 

     He could breathe. 

     He looked at Genji. Genji looked back at him. Genji nodded, and Hanzo nodded back. Both of their shoulders lowered in relaxation, as they laid side by side in their medical beds contemplating their positions separately. The only sound between them now was that of Genji’s artificial circulatory system, and the rhythms of their pulses. But then a knock came to the door. Genji looked at Hanzo, wordlessly asking if the conversation was finished. Hanzo nodded, giving him permission. “Come in,” Genji said. 

     The hatchet for the medical wing slid up into its holding chamber and.the reliable announced click of Mercy’s heels announced her presence for her. Both brothers smiled at her, each of them looking sheepish and guilty at the familiar circumstance - their familial resemblance never being more clear. Mercy just shook her head and proceeded into the room, walking right by Genji’s bed over to Hanzo’s. 

     “That was quite a hit you took. You are lucky to be here. But I do have some bad news,” Mercy began. Hanzo nodded.  

     “Genji filled me in. It is fine. I am forever in your debt. Again,” Hanzo said, looking up at her. It was clear that she had had this conversation more than once. She smiled, but stayed on topic. 

     “The fragments have all been removed from your body, but even with hastened recovery, you will feel the after effects of this for some time. I’m developing a regimen of physical therapy that I’ll need you to complete before I let you lift anything strenuous or draw that bow of yours. The weight will be too much for you to pull safely. Consider yourself suspended from duty until then,” Mercy said. Hanzo nodded, appreciating her candor. 

     “Understood,” he said.

     “Now then, I have to ask these questions just as standard practice. Do you know your name?” Mercy asked. 

     “Hanzo,” he said, deliberately leaving off his surname and embracing his legal death, just as his brother did.

     “Do you know where you are right now?”

     “That’s classified,” He joked. Mercy and Genji both smirked. 

     “Do you know what happened to you?” Mercy asked. 

     “I was shot. I was dead for three hours. But now I’m back,” Hanzo said, and Mercy nodded, recording his answers with her hologram keyboard. She pulled up a rolling stool and sat next to him at bedside.

     “Can you wiggle your toes?” As she asked, Hanzo wiggled them. Each individual digit moved. “Can you squeeze my hand?” Mercy asked, taking Hanzo’s hand into her own. He squoze it dutifully. Everything was working as intended. “Can you follow my finger with your eyes, without moving your head?” She moved her finger left, right, up, down, and at a diagonal. He followed every direction. “Good, good.” She continued to keep her notes. “Are you feeling any pain right now?” 

     “I am sore,” Hanzo said. She nodded.

     “Good. I would be worried if you weren’t. Can you feel this?” Mercy asked, while touching his arm.

     “Yes,” Hanzo replied. 

     “Can you move your arms and legs for me?” She asked. He moved all four limbs individually. “Good. Now then for your recall. What’s the last thing you remember?” Mercy asked. Hanzo closed his eyes trying to focus. 

     “I…was hit by a sniper. Then Ana healed me and sent me into the spaceport,” Hanzo said. “I know what happened after that because Genji told me, but I don’t actually remember it,” Hanzo said. Mercy nodded, making that note specifically.

     “Do you remember your birthday?” Mercy asked.

     “November third,” Hanzo said. Mercy nodded. 

     “Do you remember who the Prime Minister of Japan is?” 

     “Haruto Shibasaki,” Hanzo said, and Mercy smiled. It seemed he was passing the exam with flying colors. She moved back, and gestured over to Genji. 

     “And do you know who this is?” Mercy asked. 

     Hanzo looked over at Genji. He looked once more at the mechanical workings of his heart and lungs. The way that Hanzo cut him down that night should’ve robbed him of his life. A moment ago he was ashamed of himself for what he had done. But now sitting here having the opportunity to speak with Genji again, and together with his soulmate, he saw those mechanical workings for what they really were; A miracle, in every sense of the word. 

     “Yes,” Hanzo said, a hesitant smile coming across his face as he looked from Genji back over to Mercy. “That’s my brother.”

     Mercy smiled. Genji smiled. They were all smiling until Hanzo rocked forward in shock and agony. He let out a pained cry as his pulse immediately quickened to one hundred and eighty, then one hundred and ninety five, then back down to one hundred and sixty, until leaping up to two hundred and ten! Mercy rolled up her sleeves and immediately ripped open his hospital gown to assess where he was wounded. But there was no agitation. The wound was properly closed.

     Instead, Hanzo immediately clasped the inside of his left wrist. It burned painfully and then faded just the same. Mercy stepped back to give him space, both of them looking at each other knowingly. Genji leaned up. “What is happening? Is he alright?” Genji asked. Mercy didn’t answer. She just looked at Hanzo and waited. 

     Hanzo tentatively took a look at his wrist. There was a tattoo that carved itself into place firmly. Two bold black handwritten C’s were stamped into his flesh, and Hanzo’s jaw fell open, before he closed it and wrinkled his nose in revulsion. “No…” he groaned, shaking his head.

     “What happened?” Genji asked in distress, his voice a little louder. He was getting annoyed that neither his brother nor his love were answering him. Hanzo just shook his head, even as Mercy smiled with joy for him. He could already hear those uneven footsteps clopping down the hall. 

     “Please no…” Hanzo said in utter defeat, as two thick soled boots came running down the hall up to the door. Then came the unceremonious pounding on the hatchet door, until it shot up into its vacant seal. They all turned and looked as Cole Cassidy stepped through, out of breath and astonished, his cheeks rosened with sentiment.  

     Hanzo looked at Cassidy. 

     Cassidy looked at Hanzo. 

     Mercy and Genji looked at them both.

     “ Han… ” Cassidy said, taking off his hat, his voice dripping with affection.  

     “Get out! ” Hanzo said, shaking his head in disgust. Mercy laughed. 

     “What is going on? Why are you crying? Are you hurt?” Genji asked Hanzo. He was at the limits of his patience. But then looked at Cassidy. Now that the cowboy had lifted his hand to take off his hat, his wrist was exposed. Genji could see the bold characters of his brother’s name stamped on the inside of Cassidy’s right wrist. 

     Genji laughed, and then laughed a little louder.

     “Shut up!” Hanzo barked at Genji, as Mercy covered her mouth to hide her matching joy. 

     “Come on now Honeybee , don’t be like that,” Cassidy said, stepping forward. Hanzo’s eyes widened murderously. His dragon tattoos roared as they rippled down his arm in a mock show of power. 

     "Do not call me that!” Hanzo hissed, and Genji and Mercy only laughed louder. “Shut up! Get out!” All three of them ignored him. 

     “Han…” Cassidy said sweetly, approaching his bed and dropping to a knee. Hanzo recoiled and then unleashed his dragons, releasing an EMP that killed the power to the room. 

     “ALL OF YOU - OUT! NOW!” 

*****

     Hanzo knelt in the center of his dimly lit room, legs folded neatly beneath him on the tatami mat. The air was still, save for the occasional hum of Athena's low-energy systems. Shadows stretched across the walls, cast by the muted glow of a single floor lamp. Its amber light softened the corners of the room, painting it in quiet warmth and calm.

     With his eyes closed, he allowed the tension in his shoulders to melt down his spine. He lifted through the crown of his head, elongating his neck as if suspended by an unseen thread. Each vertebra aligned with precision, a posture born from years of discipline, now repurposed for healing rather than battle.

     One hand rose to his chest, the other to his abdomen. Slowly, deliberately, he drew in a breath through his nose. His belly expanded first—steady and round—while his chest remained still, cradling the damage that had yet to fully fade. He exhaled through parted lips.

     Diaphragmatic breathing had been the foremost exercise of Mercy’s physical therapy regimen. Her rationale was precise: trauma to the chest could coax the body into protective habits—shallow breathing, limited expansion, an unconscious flinch at the memory of pain. But these habits - left unchecked - could invite further injury. Collapsed lungs. Scar tissue. Stagnant healing. He had to fight that instinct. He had to breathe .

     So he did. Each breath anchored him in the present moment. Each expansion of his abdomen was a quiet act of resistance against the lingering ache from Reaper’s shotgun blast. It had been a little over a week since Talon’s ambush on the Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Mercy put him through a detailed recovery protocol and cleared him for duty. But even after regaining clearance, Hanzo found himself returning to this routine. Morning breathwork came before tea. Ana’s blend of hibiscus, ginseng, and jasmine was steeping nearby, its aroma filling the space with floral sharpness.

     As his breathing deepened, the inked dragons along his arm began to stir—faint pulses of azure light threading through their scales. They circled lazily around him, the flicker of their magic syncing with the rhythm of his breath. Their presence wasn’t intrusive. It was meditative. A reminder of his soul’s resilience alongside his body’s. 

     Letting the air fill him was more than a physical exercise. The breath didn’t just ease his lungs. It quieted the noise in his mind. The harsh critiques, the ghosts of missteps past, the low whisper of unworthiness. They all faded into the stillness. In this silence, he could simply exist . No past. No future. Just breath.

     When he finally opened his eyes, he felt steadier. He rose from his seated posture in one fluid motion and made his way to the kitchenette, pouring hot water over his tea blend. As the scent unfurled, Athena’s voice chimed softly through the room.

     “Good morning, Hanzo.”

     He nodded slightly, acknowledging her presence. “Athena.”

     “You missed a call from Agent D-15: Mei. She is currently off base,” Athena continued, displaying the missed call notification alongside Mei’s profile. Hanzo learned that Mei had missed the battle with Talon entirely. She and Zarya had been away, on a trip to meet her family in China. The timestamp revealed it had come less than an hour ago. Factoring in the time difference between China and Spain, it was likely midday for her.

     “Can you patch me through?” Hanzo asked, placing the kettle back onto its stand.

     “Would you like me to do so now?”

     “Yes.”

     “Calling Agent D-15: Mei,” Athena said, and a soft chime echoed as a holographic screen shimmered into view. After a few rings, Mei’s face appeared, bright-eyed and cheerful as ever.

     “Hi Hanzo!” she beamed, her enthusiasm practically leaping through the projection. It caught him off guard in the gentlest way.

     “Good morning,” he replied, sipping his tea. He took in the view behind her. The scenery of the modern metropolis of China was a sharp contrast to the rather dull quiet features of the gibraltar. It reminded him of where he was about to return. It reminded him to mentally prepare himself to endure other people. 

     “Oh! Did I wake you? I thought I timed it right,” she said, her smile faltering into a worried frown.

     “You didn’t disturb me,” Hanzo reassured her with a shake of his head. “I was meditating. I’ve instructed Athena not to notify me during that time.”

     Mei’s eyes widened with fascination. “That sounds so peaceful! I’d love to try it, but mornings aren’t really my thing. Snowball doesn’t like them either.” As if on cue, the little omnic floated into the frame behind her, offering a cheery wave. Hanzo returned it with a slight smile and a nod of acknowledgement.

     “Where is Zarya?” he asked.

     “In the shower. She just wrapped up her morning workout,” Mei replied. “We’re having lunch with my parents today,” Mei said a little sheepishly. He couldn’t help but smile. 

     “And how are they getting along?”

     “Surprisingly well,” she laughed. “Sometimes I think they might like her even more than me! My mom wants us to get married right away. She says she hasn’t met anyone so strong and respectful. I think they were all expecting me to bring home a man, or maybe even no one at all. So Zarya was... a surprise. But a good one!” Mei said.

     Hanzo let out a soft exhale through his nose, amused. His mind wandered briefly, imagining his mother’s reaction to Cassidy. He immediately decided that was a thought better left unexplored.

     “How are you feeling?” Mei asked, her tone softening. “I heard about what happened. I’m glad you’re alright.”

     “I’m recovering. Mercy’s treatment was effective. But there is something I must tell you…” Hanzo replied. His gaze shifted, and he turned his wrist outward, revealing a newly darkened mark etched across his skin. Mei leaned in.

     “Wait...is that a soul mark?” Her eyes went wide. She gasped and covered her mouth. “Is that… is that Cassidy ?!”

     Hanzo closed his eyes, sighed. “The very same.”

     Mei exploded with questions before she could stop herself. “When did it happen? Did he get his too? Were you together? What did it feel like? What did he say? Did you say anything? Was anyone recording? How did—"

     He stared blankly at her, lips slightly parted in quiet shock.

     “Oh—oh no, I did it again. I’m sorry!” she cringed. “I got too excited.”

     “It’s fine,” Hanzo said, a little smile tugging at his lips. “I know it matters to your research. But I would ask for discretion. Technically I’m supposed to be dead.” That earned a laugh from Mei, but before she could respond, someone knocked on her door off-screen. She muted herself for a moment, then turned back apologetically.

     “Hanzo, I have to run. Can I call you after lunch?”

     “I’ll be in transit—returning to Japan. But I’ll return your call once I land, if I miss it.”

     “Deal! We’ll talk soon. And congratulations again!” she said brightly.

     “Enjoy your lunch. Stay safe,” Hanzo replied.

     “You too!” she said, waving as her hologram faded from view.

     Now that he was alone again, Hanzo moved with a quiet, practiced grace. He packed his travel bag with care, folding each garment as though performing a ritual. His bow was the last to be secured, its weight familiar in his hands like a final promise. Once satisfied, he stepped into the corridor, making his way toward Central Operations.

     The halls had been cleaned and reorganized since Talon’s attack, but now, on the verge of leaving, they felt more hollow than ever. In his ancestral home, the walls were crimson red, and the lights were warm, accentuating the color in all of their skin tones. Here in the Gibraltar, it was all sterile white with fluorescents that hummed to fill the tranquility. But they were both home. They were both him. 

     He told himself this was the right decision. Still, a quiet ache curled in his chest. He would never admit it aloud, but he’d grown used to the salty kiss of sea air on the off-grid island. He liked the surprise of running into his teammates in the kitchen. He liked that the gym was always stocked and empty when he needed solitude. He liked the memories he had made—quiet, domestic ones. Unfamiliar and precious all the same.

     But he made a promise, and in life or after death, a promise is a promise. At the door to Central Ops, he announced himself. The doors opened with a soft hiss. Winston looked up from the console.

     “Oh! Hanzo! How are you feeling this morning?” The Gorilla asked, immediately moving away from his station to greet him. Hanzo assumed Winston was sparing him the task of movement wherever possible. Considerate, but also coddling. There was no other way to describe Winston.  

     “I am. I depart today,” Hanzo replied evenly.

     Winston’s face fell, disappointment flickering in his expression. “Oh. I am…sorry to hear that. I was hoping you might reconsider...”

     “I have,” Hanzo said simply.

     Winston tilted his head, curiosity igniting behind his glasses. “You have?”

     Hanzo nodded once. “Forgive me. In my return to Japan I learned of…complications left unresolved by my past folly.” 

     “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. We got the message from Lucio that Talon was coming. But Lucio said that he’d heard the warning from a street gang in Japan. And then you showed up just in time to help us all. I don’t imagine that was all a coincidence,” Winston said. Hanzo knew Winston as a scientific mind, but he had to admit he had been impressed with the Gorilla’s sleuthing. 

     “It was not. I cannot divulge my sources, but we happened upon that information together. Once I found it, I forwarded to you the only way I could think of,” Hanzo said. 

     “And it worked. It was only thanks to you that we were able to keep everyone safe,” Winston said. Hanzo averted his gaze, annoying any praise. He immediately changed the subject.

     “When I was in Japan, I came into contact with the Hashimoto clan. My family was the dominant power behind Japan’s success, but the Hashimoto were always waiting in the wings to take our place. Now it seems that they have, and they are making a play to join with Talon to extend their own claws.” 

     Winston nodded and pushed his glasses up as he listened. Hanzo continued. “I believe in Overwatch. But Japan is my home, and I am its protector. I hadn’t realized the vacuum of power that I left when I fled. Now I must mend those errors,” Hanzo said. 

     “I understand,” Winston agreed solemnly.  

     “But once I have righted the wrongs of my former life, I have every intention to return to you as a permanent member of the team, if you will have me again,” Hanzo said, descending into a deep bow. He stayed down for some time, but Winston didn’t say anything. Instead he just turned to walk back to his station. He reached into his drawer, and then tossed the communicator over in the air. Hanzo noticed the motion in time to look up and catch it. Winston grinned a toothy grin. 

     “As long as I am the head of Overwatch, you have a place on the team. And as long as I am your friend, you have a place with me ,” Winston said. Hanzo did his best to keep his composure. He couldn’t let Winston know how much he’d come to treasure him.

     “I will earn it.” Hanzo said with a nod. 

     “You already have,” Winston replied. 

     “I must ask another favor,” Hanzo said, but Winston interrupted. 

     “I already knew you were leaving. Cassidy came earlier for the tickets. But I’ll have Athena draft you a fake ID. Athena-” Winston began, but the AI answered for him.

     “One moment,” Athena responded to both of them. The artificial intelligence assumed control over the monitors in the room, beginning the process and beckoning the machines to her bidding. In minutes a fake passport was generated under the name Hojo Shirosaki. He walked over to collect it.

     “We’ll be in transit.  When you’re ready to return, just activate the communicator. I’ll send you the coordinates to the new base,” Winston said, and Hanzo nodded. 

     “Your kindness knows no bounds. I will repay you,” Hanzo insisted. But Winston shook his head. 

     “When we were in trouble, you came running. And it was your team that leaked the news of Talon’s attack. We all owe you our lives,” Winston said. Hanzo didn’t have an argument this time, so he just nodded. 

     “Then we will call it even. I will be in touch,” Hanzo said and turned on his heel. 

     “Hanzo?” Winston called. Hanzo stopped and turned back over his shoulder to look at him. <<Should you need back-up in Japan, you have it.>> Winston said in perfect Japanese. Hanzo nodded, and continued out the door. It sealed itself closed as he made his way to the front. 

     He took one last look at the Gibraltar halls. The main exit passed the common room, where he saw a few of the others mingling in casual conversation. He had never been one for goodbyes, but Ana caught his eye from across the room. She smirked and lifted her teacup to him. He nodded back at her in acknowledgement and smirked, before walking right past them all. Mei was his best friend, but Ana was his preferred company. She understood the comfort of brevity. 

     It was something that he wished his brother would learn. Genji approached him from behind, clapping a mechanical hand to his shoulder. “Yo!” Hanzo turned to face him. He was standing there with Mercy next to him. He nodded at them both. “You were just going to leave without saying goodbye? Typical.” Genji critiqued, crossing his arms. 

     Hanzo let out a quiet laugh. “Because I knew you would try to tag along.” 

     “I should be going with you,” Genji said

     “No! ” Hanzo said sharply. “Kiriko is annoying enough on her own. And now that the cowboy has my name on his wrist, he seems to think we need to go everywhere together. I will not endure all three of you at once. ” Mercy laughed quietly, but Hanzo was as serious as could be. Genji just shook his head.

     “You love us,” Genji teased. Hanzo wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

     “You wish,” Hanzo said. 

     “You love me!” Mercy said. 

     “I…do.” Hanzo admitted. Mercy beamed. Hanzo just slowly smiled back at her. He nodded at them both. “I’ll report back when I land.” Hanzo said, turning to step off. But Mercy scoffed. 

     “ Oh come on! At least hug each other or something! You are brothers!” Mercy said. Hanzo and Genji both looked at each other with disgust, and then looked back at her, asking wordlessly asking if she was being serious. Mercy just rolled her eyes. “Okay here, why don’t I just give you two a moment? Then you can both be cool ninja badasses that love each other in private, hm?” She said. She stepped in, kissing Hanzo’s cheek and rubbing his arm. And as she turned away, she gave Genji a look that said something to the effect of ‘behave.’ 

     When Mercy walked over to the other room, Genji looked from her backside back at Hanzo. Then they looked away from each other, awkwardly readjusting and not knowing what to do. Genji crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. It was something he always did when he was a kid. Especially when he didn’t want to admit the truth. <<You know I will come running.>> 

     <<I know.>> Hanzo said with a nod. 

     <<You don’t have to do this alone,>> Genji said. 

     <<I wish I were alone,>> Hanzo said, shaking his head. Genji chuckled. Hanzo laughed with him. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and then they both looked away.

     <<Well then…I will let you go. Be safe, brother.>> Genji said. Hanzo nodded. Genji nodded back and then turned away, but Hanzo grabbed his arm and spun him around. He stepped in, wrapping his arms around the cyborg and holding him tightly. 

     Genji’s spine straightened as if he were in pain. But he was actually in shock. Hanzo had never been one for physical touch, unless it were in violence. He was rather opposed, even throughout the entirety of their childhood. But it seemed his time with the cowboy had altered that little detail. He laughed and quietly wrapped his arms around his brother’s back, embracing him. <<He’s making you soft.>> Genji teased. 

     <<Don’t start. You were already soft.>> Hanzo teased back. Then he let go. <<Be safe, brother.>> 

     Genji nodded and smirked. He clapped a hand to Hanzo’s shoulder and squoze it, before letting go. He gave one last waive that Hanzo returned, and then the cyborg stepped off into the other room, following after his love. Hanzo smiled and closed his eyes, a full feeling washing over his chest in a relieving way. Then he turned to walk away again.  

     He walked until he approached the door of the main exit. He took one last deep breath, and then stepped forward. Athena opened the doors for him. He took a couple of steps forward and then stopped. 

     Cole Cassidy was waiting for him. His luggage - or lack thereof - was in a small wagon attached to the back of a rather large and rather gaudy hoverbike. He lit a cigar as he leaned against the side of the bike, the sun beaming down over the top of his wide brimmed hat, casting dramatic shadows over his face. 

     Hanzo thought to himself that Cassidy might be both the love of his life, and his divine punishment. He was his exact mirror, and yet his polar opposite. Both of them had turned from lives of crime in attempts to make amends for what they’d done. Both of them preferred the simplicity of pre-omnic civilization, and used anachronistic paraphernalia whenever possible. But where Hanzo understood the importance of subtlety, Cassidy leaned into every moment with as dramatic a flair as possible.  

     Could he really do this? Could he really tie himself to this western wanna-be for the rest of his life? Sure, the feeling of this man sleeping at his back gave him rest that rejuvenated the youth of his face. But what did his presence take in exchange? He pondered the question as he approached. 

     “Well hey there, Honeybee .” Cassidy drawled, winking at him. Hanzo scowled. 

     “I told you never to call me that,” Hanzo said, loading his bags in the compartment wagon. 

     “Should’ve thought of that one before you tried to dump me with a letter,” Cassidy teased. Hanzo winced. 

     “...Can we renegotiate those terms?” Hanzo asked. 

     “ Not a chance. That letter’s gone. The nickname stays,” Cassidy said, and Hanzo sighed. 

     “Fine. You may call me that in private. Never in public. The first time you misstep, the nickname is off the table,” Hanzo said sternly. Cassidy just grinned. 

     “Deal” he said, taking his cigar out of his lips and offering it to Hanzo. Hanzo took a pull of the cigar and puffed out the smoke, blowing it off to the side. He eyed his soulmate for a moment, before speaking again. 

     “You don’t have to do this, you know.” Hanzo said, and Cassidy arched his brow, waiting for him to elaborate. “You don’t have to come with me. I made a promise to Kiriko that I would return and help her rid Japan of the Hashimoto’s influence. But this is my mess to clean. It has nothing to do with you. Soulmark or not,” Hanzo said. 

     Cassidy exhaled through his nose. “Didn’t put much stock in the soulmate thing honestly. It took so long to come, I guess I just stopped caring. Figured it meant I was meant to be alone. But I could very well have had someone else’s name on my wrist, and I’d still end up sitting right next to you on that plane. ” Cassidy said. Hanzo hated the way his heart throbbed at the sentiment. It was embarrassing.

     “Be that as it may, you could still catch Reaper now, if you devoted yourself to the effort. Talon’s boldness will be its undoing. They exposed themselves in a detrimental way when they attacked the base.” Hanzo said. 

     “Don’t worry about all that. The man I knew is dead and gone. Reaper ain’t nothing to me but another bounty to cash in,” Cassidy said. Hanzo noted the way Cassidy switched his name to Reaper, rather than the affectionate Reyes he used to call him. 

     “If this is about what happened -” Hanzo began. Cassidy interrupted him. 

     “It ain’t. Japan’s your mess. Reaper’s mine. But mine ain’t that urgent yet. We’ll clean up yours first.” Cassidy said. He threw his leg over the hoverbike seat and gripped the handlebars, before turning on the engine. Hanzo just sighed and shook his head. He walked over to Cassidy and moved to mount the bike behind him. But Cassidy stopped him. “Hold on now!” 

     “What is it?” Hanzo asked, looking about in search of a problem. 

     “You wanna ride this ride, you gotta pay the toll,” Cassidy said, tapping the fat of his cheek with his index finger. Hanzo eyed him with annoyance and disgust, but when he saw that Cassidy wasn’t moving, he turned away and went back to the compartment cart. Cassidy looked confused, until he saw Hanzo walk right past him with both of his suitcases. He laughed so hard he wheezed

     “Han come on! Where are you going?” Cassidy called after him. 

     “ I’ll walk ,” Hanzo said bitterly. 

     “That’s a twelve mile expanse before you get to the Orca,” Cassidy said, calmly coasting up to trail alongside the defiant man walking ahead of him. “Come on now Han. One little cheek kiss and I’ll take you there personally.”

     “I am Hanzo Shimada, former head of the Shimada empire. I will not be extorted by the likes of you!” Hanzo said proudly, marching on in staunch refusal. 

     “You are Hojo Shirosaki, and you are not above the law!” Cassidy teased raucously. Hanzo just rolled his eyes. “Come on now, Honeybee.” Cassidy said, and Hanzo groaned. 

     “I would sooner walk barefoot across this pavement. All twelve miles on a hot summer day.” Hanzo said and Cassidy laughed. 

     “You’re just as mean as a snake, you know that?” Cassidy teased. 

     “Then let my venom and scales deter you from this foolishness,” Hanzo said. But Cassidy rode up to him. He grabbed the suitcase, stopping Hanzo in his tracks. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. The wind caught the back of Hanzo’s ponytail, and the excess drapery of Cassidy’s serape. Cassidy smiled. 

     “Lucky for you, I have a history in snake charming,” Cassidy said with a wink. He took Hanzo’s bag and put it back in the trailer compartment. Hanzo relented and put his other suitcase in the back as well. 

     “And what of Dragon taming?” Hanzo asked mockingly. Cassidy smirked. 

     “Trick question. Can’t tame a dragon. You just learn to survive beside it,” Cassidy replied. Hanzo looked him in his stupid eyes once more. He sighed and then leaned in, kissing his cheek. Cassidy smirked and motioned for Hanzo to get on the back of the bike. 

     Hanzo threw his leg over, and wrapped his arms around Cassidy’s midsection. He held onto him tight, and their bodies rocked as Cassidy revved the engine into a fast takeoff. He let himself rest against the cowboy’s back, keeping his arms around him and feeling the wind rip by both of them as they blasted down the city streets. The mirrors of Cassidy’s hoverbike were turned outward so that he could see his blindspots, but Cassidy caught himself looking in the mirror from time to time, even though there was no one else on the road. 

     Because Hanzo Shimada, eldest son and brother, heir to the Shimada dynasty turned traitor, turned Overwatch member, and perpetual fuddy-duddy…

     … was smiling.