Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The streets of Kyoto were the closest Genji could get to home without being there. Being in Japan at all constantly had the ninja checking over his shoulder, just in case . However, couldn’t deny himself the ache his heart had for home. He longed to sit beneath that cherry tree outside his window. It was the only place he could feel his mother after she had passed. The streets of Kyoto did fine as a supplement. The longing in his chest could be quelled, if just somewhat. The loud noises of arcade cabinets begging him to play and people babbling on about their dinner could silence all the noise in his brain that begged him for nothing more than to go home. 

Genji’s eyes scanned the horizon as he walked. The sun had set hours ago, and the streets were lit by the neon glow of shops and eateries, trying to entice a customer inside. He kept his hood pulled low over his face though not to hide it, as he once would’ve.

He had changed a lot from those unending days as a member of Blackwatch. His mask was often forgotten in his apartment, used only for missions. His drab, baggy clothes had been replaced with perfectly-fitting joggers, loose tank tops and compression shirts. His hair had undergone rounds of bleaching and painstakingly smeared with the brightest green dye he could find. After years of hurting, he was finally able to look in the mirror and like the face that stared back at him. 

When the days were long and time seemed to blend together, Genji went deep within himself to reflect on his time in Blackwatch. He looked back on that exhausting, unending time with a sad lens. The hollowed shell of a man he had been hurt to look back on. He had been so depressed, and had hated himself so ferociously. He wanted to crawl back in time and cradle the boy he had been in his arms and tell him everything would be okay.

And then, adding Jesse McCree into the equation… Well, safe to say, Genji tried not to linger on thoughts of his past for very long.

He quickly side-stepped a group of teenage girls chattering about how excited they were to go to some party tonight. Genji laughed at their words. He always found it so amusing how different his life was from those around him. No one knew of the glowing cybernetic system thrumming beneath his sweatshirt. No one knew how he had kissed death numerous times, and the scars on his face were the remnants of the tale. 

He ran a hand haphazardly through his hair as his eyes bounced around the streets. He wanted something to do. Maybe he’d find that party the girls were speaking of, or end up spending some time in an arcade. He looked to the left, his attention drawn by a bright sign declaring the best soba in all of Japan was housed there, when his eye caught a flash of red cloth. The familiar click of spurs wormed into his ears and lodged deep into his brain. Memories he had shoved deep down came back to life. Hot white pain struck his heart as he relived the years he had begged himself to forget. 

He stopped where he stood in the street, searching for that red cloth again. A man bumped into him and began hollering in Japanese, but Genji pushed away from him. There. Walking into a bar further down the street. The cowboy hat, the serape, the dusty jeans and worn cowboy boots– Genji would know that man anywhere. Tears pricked his vision. His chest was moving heavier with a panic he had not felt in so long. Was he nervous? Excited? He didn’t know. He did know, however, that he needed  to see that man again. He couldn’t let him walk away without saying anything.

He followed after Jesse, keeping sight of that red serape even as the cowboy ducked into deeper and darker corners. They were getting deeper into the streets of Kyoto, going down alleyways Genji had never even heard of. He was constantly trying to play keep-up, his years of training bringing him to be quick and stealthy.

Finally, Jesse stopped outside a bar. It looked exactly like a bar in America, and Genji was filled with a silent fondness as he realized why Jesse had gone so deep into the sketchier regions of the city. He wanted a slice of home. He wanted those mountains he spoke so fondly of, the valleys and the long dusty trails that led to the ranch he swore someday they would share.

Genji braced himself against the wall as the memory struck him deep in his core. He couldn’t think of that. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Genji watched from the shadows as the cowboy entered the bar. Through the window he saw Jesse sit down at the bar, take his hat off, and raise his hand to request his drink. Genji inhaled slowly through his nose, and squeezed his hands into tight fists. His nerves were beginning to consume him, turning his normally still hands to a trembling mess. It was humiliating, but he couldn’t deny the aching in his gut that told him he had to see Jesse again. The ten years since their last meeting had turned Genji from a foolish twenty-something to a more grounded individual. And in those ten years, not a day went by that he hadn’t wondered what happened to the charming cowboy that managed to elicit a smile even in his darkest of moments.

He had to say something. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t.

The inside of the bar smelt like Genji’s trips to America. A little smokey, a little dusty, a lot of booze. Genji had never really cared for the United States, at least not to the parts he had been to. They were loud and chaotic in a way that his time in Nepal had brought him to despise. Perhaps Jesse was the root of his problems. Perhaps every moment in the States, he was chasing every shadow praying one would hold his cowboy.

Not his. Jesse wasn’t his. Maybe he never had been. 

Genji's footsteps made not a sound as he stepped up to the bar beside Jesse. He kept his gaze low, his scarred lips curling into a tiny smile as he observed the cowboy for a moment. One of those damn cigars hung lazily in the corner of his mouth, while a glass of whiskey sat on the counter next to where he had set his hat down. He had a wistful look in his eyes as he stared forward, oblivious to the world around him. 

Time had not been kind to Jesse in the ways it had been kind to Genji. 

Genji had found peace with his body. He remembered how to smile again. His hair had turned from dark to a brilliant shock of green. His skin was tanned and warm. He had been shadowed for years, but with the help of those in Nepal, he had finally found the sun.

Jesse , however? Jesse had grown rough around the edges. His body was soft where it used to be hard, any definition of muscles buried under a thick layer of fat. His usually well-maintained mutton chops had grown into a thick beard around his face. Genji could see the years marking themselves in thick creases around Jesse’s eyes and along his forehead. Yearning hit Genji suddenly. A yearning to know what had happened. What had turned Jesse from the youthful ray of light he had known to the sad man before him?

Genji cleared his throat and finally said, “Cigars aren’t good for you, Jesse McCree.”

For a moment, all Genji heard was the deafening beating of his own heart. The cowboy’s eyes widened with surprise. He turned slowly to face Genji as he drew the cigar from his mouth. He snuffed it on the bar, leaving a long black smear in its place. His lips parted, then closed again, then opened once more. Genji felt his cheeks flush as another wave of panic settled on his body. This was too much, he was being too much. How could he come in here and interrupt Jesse after ten years? If he had wanted to reach out and find Genji, he would’ve. How could he be so foolish?

“It’s Cole Cassidy now,” Jesse- Cole- said gruffly. His eyes ran up and down Genji’s body, focusing an extra long moment on his vibrant hair. Genji swore his lips almost turned up in a smirk.

“Cole Cassidy,” Genji repeated softly. He had so many questions– why the name change? What happened to cause it? He eyed Cole as the cowboy lifted a hand and ran it through his mess of hair. It was then that Genji saw it. The silver glint of his fingers as metal caught the light. Hidden beneath his serape had been a cyborg arm, much like the parts of his own body Genji had once hated.

Cole sighed. “I’m assumin’ you wanna talk, huh?”

Genji nodded, his eyes still trained on the metallic arm. Cole grunted.

“You better sit down then, partner. We got a lot to talk about.”

Chapter Text

Maybe Cole knew exactly what he was doing when he went to Kyoto.

He told himself he wasn’t seeking out Genji, practically swore up and down that he wasn’t chasing the dark-haired ninja from his youth. But even with those promises, he knew he was full of lies. 

When Genji stepped up to the bar, all smiles, with a new body to boot– and damn, that bright hair– Cole would have been lying again if he said he hated it.

Because he didn’t. He’d been waiting for that moment for years. 

And then he spoke.

Cole was gone. The minute his old name left Genji’s lips, Cole was six feet under, struggling to breathe. 

It took every muscle in his body to keep himself composed and to not fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Clearly, Genji had done fine for himself. He had flourished, while Cole knew he himself looked like a piece of shit. Genji was better off without him.

He eyed the ninja carefully as he drew a stool out from the bar, the soft scrape of the legs against the wooden floor loud against the soft jazz music flitting in the background. Cole flagged the bartender down.

“Can we get this gentleman a drink pl–”

“No,” Genji said quickly, before offering Cole a sheepish smile. He turned to the bartender and requested a glass of water. Cole cocked an eyebrow. “I’m… I haven’t drank. Since I went to train with Master Tekhartha. I realized it wasn’t good for me. I wasn’t a good person when I drank.”

Cole nodded slowly at this realization, bringing his own drink to his lips and taking a long gulp. The familiar burn going down was delicious. How could Genji live without it?

“So,” Cole said slowly when Genji had been passed his glass of water. The ninja tilted his head to the side slowly, his dark eyes trained on Cole’s face. “It’s… been awhile.”

“Yes,” Genji said with a weak smile.

“You don’t wear a faceplate anymore,” Cole noted, his voice adopting a softer tone. 

Genji shook his head. “Only when I’m in fights, and those are few and far between. I… took what you said to heart. All the way back then.”

Cole’s hand froze on his glass as his heart thrusted itself into his neck. He inhaled a shuddering breath. “Wh– How so?”

“You always told me I didn’t need it,” Genji hummed, tracing his mechanical finger around the rim of his glass. “It took me a while to realize it, but eventually I got the message, yeah?”

“Your…” Cole turned his eyes down to the bar, trying to memorize every knot and grain of wood in the worn surface. He couldn’t bear to look into those beautiful brown eyes, so filled with hope and wonder. Genji was so different than he used to be. He had healed. He had turned from a scowling young adult to a true man. A better man than Cole could ever be.

“Your English is real good,” Cole mumbled dryly, trying to silence the noise in his mind.

Genji laughed, and God, that sound was just like Cole remembered. 

“I’ve had lots of practice,” Genji said. “You’re like me now. A cyborg.”

“Yeah.” Cole laughed weakly, lifting his mechanical arm for Genji to examine. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Genji leaned in close, his fingers hovering just above the metal. 

Genji’s eyes flicked up to Cole’s face, before darting back down to the cyborg arm. “Does this new arm have anything to do with your new name?” Genji asked casually.

“Ah…” Cole withdrew his arm again, tucking it back under his serape. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about the damned thing. “Your cybernetics look new too, Shimada. Did Angela hook you up?” With a look from Genji, Cole sighed. “Got… mixed up in some bad shit. Don’t matter nothin’ now.”

Genji frowned, leaning closer to Cole. “I’m sorry, Cole,” he said softly.

Dammit, Cole hated it. Here Genji was, finally healed, pitying him. It was a damned embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Cole snapped, picking up his glass and throwing the rest of the whiskey back in a stinging gulp. Genji looked down at his lap, chewing absentmindedly on his lower lip. Cole sighed, yet again. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Do you want to see something?” Genji asked quietly.

Cole paused, and then slowly nodded. This night was probably the last time they’d ever speak to each other again. He might as well humor the ninja. 

They left the bar, and were thrust into the middle of the Japanese nightlife. Other than Genji, this was part of the reason Cole had come to Kyoto. There were so many different people around him, so many bright lights, so many noises; singing, dancing, humming, shouting, it was rampant around him. He could blend in, and pretend to be normal.

If only for a moment.

“It’ll be worth it,” Genji shouted above the crowd. 

As they dove into the crowd, Genji slipped his hand into Cole’s metal one. It was so familiar, so simple and sweet. No matter how his mind tried to convince himself Genji was just trying to keep him close, he couldn’t fight the fluttering of his heart. He couldn’t stop the pesky little ninja from breaking into his cold exterior.

Especially since, even when they had escaped the crowds of the nightlife streets, Genji’s grip on his hand remained. They strolled down the quieter urban sidewalks of Kyoto, their hands interlocked. Neither of them said a word about it. Neither of them wanted to. 

“I cannot believe I used to spend every night like that,” Genji said with a laugh.

Cole quirked an eyebrow, intrigued by this drip of knowledge from Genji’s past. All their time in Overwatch together, and Cole had only gotten breadcrumbs. “You were a partier, huh?”

“All the time,” Genji said, his eyes trailing up to the sky before them. The moon was full, casting a pale blue glow down on everything it surveyed, including Genji’s scarred face. “Every night of my teen years was spent as far away from home as I could get.”

Cole was surprised at how open Genji spoke of his past now. Yet another thing so unlike the raven-haired boy he had once known. 

“You… you’re so different than you used to be.” Cole spoke carefully, hoping to avoid offending Genji. The ninja simply shrugged and smiled up at the cowboy. 

“I’m better now. I feel like myself again.” 

The ghost of a smile flickered on Cole’s lips. “I’m glad, darlin’.”

The nickname slipped out before he could even think of it. Everything was just like old times, and goddammit, he was so confused. Cole felt his face heat up as he mumbled an excuse, but Genji simply smiled up at him. “Come on,” he said, pointing to a spot in the distance. “We’re close.”

As they drew closer to Genji’s spot, Cole was taken aback with what exactly the man had brought him to.
Cherry blossoms trees.

They lined a small pond, their petals floating down the middle. They were beautiful. Soft shades of pink and white illuminated by nothing but the pale moonlight. Cole reached a hand up and let the gossamer petals stroke against his fingers. A chill ran down his spine as he recalled, once upon a time, Genji whispering to him stories about cherry blossoms.

He turned to look at Genji, who had settled into a cross-legged position at the base of one of the trees. Cole carefully settled down beside him. “This is a special place to you, isn’t it?” Cole spoke gently.

“My mother had cherry blossoms,” Genji whispered, giving Cole a sidelong look. “Places like these are some of the few places I can feel connected to her outside of Hanamura.”

“I’m sorry,” Cole murmured.

“Don’t be,” Genji said quickly. He exhaled a soft, slow breath. “I’ve learned to celebrate her memory, instead of mourn it. She wouldn’t want me to cry over her all the time. She would want me to be joyous in my life, and carry on her memory.” 

“That’s–” Cole sucked in a sharp breath and looked back at the pool. He found one petal in specific, and focused on it as it floated around. He couldn’t bring himself to look into Genji’s gorgeous green eyes, not now, and perhaps not ever again. “That’s beautiful. You learned a lot when you were gone, huh?”

“Oh, so much,” Genji said. “Like I said, I’ve never been more like myself.”

They fell into a silence, one that Cole would’ve normally found uncomfortable. Yet with Genji, it was like nothing had changed in the ten years they had been separated. The silence was peaceful. For once Cole felt he could truly relax. 

But then Genji jumped to his feet. His face froze in horror as those stunning greens locked onto something in the midnight sky. Cole followed his gaze just as two dragons streaked through the sky, leaving a glistening trail of shimmering blue floating behind them. Cole’s eyebrows knitted together. 

“Partner, that looks an awful lot like the little guy you got on your shoulder,” Cole mumbled. 

“He knows I’m here,” Genji whispered. He turned to Cole, nervously grabbing his forearm. The peaceful man had gone rigid. He was tense with fear, Cole realized. The cowboy frowned and stepped closer to Genji, trying to offer some sort of comfort. 

It was all so familiar. 

“Your… your brother, ain’t it?” Cole asked softly. Genji nodded, swallowing so loud that Cole could hear it. 

“We have to get out of here, I’m– I’m not ready for that. I can’t face him,” Genji mumbled, tripping over his words as his breathing became more labored. Cole placed a firm hand on his shoulder, trying to quell the panic building in Genji.

“Calm down, we’ll get you out of here. I promise.” Cole swallowed nervously, mentally  mapping out the quickest way to get to an airport. Or would a train be better? Hell, a ship? Cole hadn’t been on a mission in so long, he felt all sorts of rusty. But Genji needed him. Genji needed help. Genji was his new mission, and this was one he swore to himself he was not going to fail.

“I need to go far… the farthest place, a place he won’t ever suspect.” Genji ran a hand down his face as he was plunged deep in thought.

Cole thought of it, the idea hitting him deep in his chest. Flickers of memories, of promises made in his past, flooded his brain, but he pushed those aside.

“Partner,” Cole said, “Your brother would never think you’d go to Texas, now would he?”