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Chapter Text

PRELUDE
[2065]
[Shimada Castle]

Blood pooled under Genji Shimada’s body. His heart throbbed, as if it had no idea that it was sending blood to three missing limbs. His mind raced. Fond memories of his father, his friends, and even his brother. It had been a shame though, that he had seen no memory of any woman he had dated. There were many, yet it always seemed like he had courted them just for social status, or to make himself feel better. All for his pleasure, in one way or another. Had he regretted this? Maybe. It wasn’t like he had much time to think about it though, as his vision blurred.

And yet, the last thing he had seen wasn’t the dark sky. It was the glow of what he could only see as an angel. Religion wasn’t something Genji had considered all that much throughout his life, but it certainly felt like he was about to be brought to heaven. With that, despite all of the rage in his body, Genji smiled.

MONTH 1

A bright light shined into Genji’s eyes. His head stung: the worst hangover he’d ever had. Oddly, he wasn’t lying down, he was suspended mid-air. And he didn’t feel his legs. Or his…
His eyes fully opened now, seeing all of the medical equipment surrounding him. As soon as he realized he was not in his room, the memories came rushing back to him. Hastily, his eyes darted for someone who could explain what had happened. A blonde haired woman stood at a medical desk nearby, looking at him with an interest.

His eyebrows furrowed at her, demanding an explanation. That was what he thought, but his angry words came out as more of a mumble, as if his tongue had gone numb. He attempted again to no avail, and the woman stepped forward. She held a clipboard and stood in front of him.

“Genji Shimada. My name is Angela Ziegler. You can call me Mercy. I work for a group called Overwatch. We managed to save you from the fatal wounds you endured, though…”
She attempted to keep a professional face as she looked at his missing legs and arm, but a frown crept it way onto her face.

“You are in the best hands possible. If you consent, we will build you personalized prosthetics. But first…” She held an angular shaped piece of metal in her hands, having an odd sense of happiness about it. “Your lower jaw was broken in the altercation. We managed to reattach most of the bone, but this should help you speak. Don’t overdo it, your larynx is also damaged. We made you a synthetic jaw, essentially.”

There was a lie in Mercy’s statement. ‘We’ was not fitting, as she had spent the entirety of last night measuring his jaw and engineering the hinges of it. She carefully placed it on his face, fastening it. She’d make it a more permanent installation later.
“A-Agh…” Genji let out a slight noise of discomfort as she finished installing it. Now realizing he could speak, a million questions flooded through his mind. The first one he chose, though, was, “I was operated on? What… do I have left?”
The question was half curiosity and half denial. He had already seen that his legs were gone, and felt nothing from his non-dominant arm, but he hoped that he was somehow wrong. Even as the rest of his lower body was covered in a wall of bandages and gauze, leaving only his arm and face exposed.

Mercy nodded. “The procedure was about… forty hours?” She let out an exhausted laugh as she wiped the top of her forehead, moving a loose strand back. Her face turned darker as she prepared to answer the next part. “Everything below your hips… And your right arm. I’m… sorry, Genji.”

His teeth clenched. He wished this wasn’t the reality he had to accept. His life was over. “It is Shimada, not Genji,” he hissed. Air huffed from his nose as he got increasingly angrier. “You shouldn’t have saved me… I am forsaken, I need two arms to wield a sword… I have nothing to offer you.”

“No, no!” Mercy’s eyes widened at that statement, as if it had been the worst thing that happened so far. “That is not why we saved you, Gen-… Shimada. And if you’ll allow me to explain how the prosthetics could work-“
Genji shot hateful eyes at Mercy. “Where is my doctor?”

She paused to think for a moment, genuinely confused. “I… am your doctor, Shimada.”
“I want a different doctor, then. A real doctor.”

Mercy’s eyes snapped to meet his. “Excuse me? Shimada, I am a very capable doctor. I don’t know what you’re saying, but I am your doctor.”

Genji clenched his teeth. “Of course, I get the inept doctor… Perhaps one of my limbs was savable, and you just chose to cut it off.”

She moved closer towards him, heels clicking as she faced him directly. “Genji Shimada, would you like to tell me what you’re implying about my skill as a doctor? You have no right to call me inept!”

He laughed, though his eyes showed he was on the brink of tears. “Or what? You’ll abandon me? Good. I want a different doctor anyways.” He continued trying to rotate his right arm, hoping that somehow it’d come back.

Mercy exhaled slightly, allowing herself to calm down as she spoke clearly. “No, Shimada. I won’t abandon you. You may think what you want about me. You do not even have to speak to me. But I will be here today. And tomorrow. And the day after. I will be here as long as you need me. And even if you think you don’t.”

MONTH 1 WEEK 1

Genji’s anger had only lasted about two days before he started speaking to Mercy again. He had recognized it would be necessary for him to speak to her, but he carried anger silently. There was still a tension when he spoke to her, but it was better than nothing.

“Psychology isn’t my area of expertise, but Overwatch seems unwilling to hire a psychologist,” Mercy spoke, both attempting to make small talk and genuinely informing him. “So I’ll be conducting the cognitive assessment. We’ll be starting with a word association test, okay?”

Genji grunted.

“Okay! Tell me the first thing that comes to your mind when I say… noise?”

“... Talking.”

“Fire?”

“Warmth.”

“Steel?”

“Blade.”

“Mirror?”

“No.”

Mercy paused for a moment, then wrote down his response. She flipped the page of her notebook. “A new set of words. ‘Combat.’”

“Shimada.”

“Strength.”

“Shimada.”

“Training.”

“Shimada.”

“Family.”

“Gone.”

She paused. Hiding a dark expression on her face, she noted it again.

“Omnics.”

“Oppressed.”

“Humanity.”

“Learning.”

“Death.”

“Genji.”

“Anger.”

“Hanzo.”

“Okay,” she said, “one last set and we’re done.”

Genji breathed heavily and exaggeratedly.

“Shame.”

Genji hesitated, then replied “none”.

Mercy looked into his stressed eyes, blinking innocently. “Genji, are you telling the truth?”

“I keep telling you, stop calling me-..! … Do the next question.”

She sighed. “Alone.”

Genji remained silent.

“Then… ‘savior’.”

He opened his mouth, but snapped it back shut instantly. “I am done with your games…”

“Genji… This is an important psychological test. I’m determining your mental aptitude.” She walked towards him, placing a hand near yet not on him. “Please.”

Genji inhaled sharply, turning his head away and closing his eyes. He adjusted his body slightly, moving away from her hand. After a few more seconds, Mercy realized it was fruitless, and went back to sit. She catalogued his answers on her computer, as the click click clicking continued into the night.

MONTH 1 WEEK 2

“*Ahem?*”

Mercy turned away from her computer and looked at Genji expectantly. “Yes, Shimada? Do you need something?” It was a habit for him to avoid addressing her. Probably because he didn’t want to use the term ‘doctor’ to describe her after his outburst.
“I still can’t feel… I can feel my arm, slightly, but not anything else. When do I regain my sense of touch?” He flexed his fingers, as if to prove his point.

“Ah, well,” she rolled her chair closer to him. “You’re on a prescription of painkillers. They’re high dosage, so losing feeling is a symptom of that.”

Genji’s eyes darted anywhere but Mercy’s face. This was one of his tells she had already picked up on. He wanted to say something, but for some reason wasn’t.

“Do you have a question?”
“Yes… It’s a… *medical* question.” His odd need to specify already prepared Mercy. “You said ‘everything below the hips’. Does that include…”

The tips of Mercy’s ears tinged pink. She bit her cheek as she swallowed. “Your… reproductive organs are unharmed.” Even she couldn’t explain why she was embarrassed: she was a doctor for gods sake!

In contrast, Genji did not seem very much embarrassed. In fact, he seemed quite relieved, as if he had been aching to ask the question for the past few days. The next question though, he had no excitement in asking.
“What happens when I need to use the bathroom?”

Mercy put a hand over her mouth, barely masking a squeak. She had a few patients before, but none of them had been in anywhere near the same state as Genji. And his state, according to medical school, meant,

“I will… help you.” She mustered. “Only for bowel movements, though. You have a catheter in.” The catheter she had put in, but she certainly wasn’t about to say that.

Genji shivered, though at which statement was uncertain. Maybe both. He bit his teeth down and closed his eyes, managing a “humiliating…”.

MONTH 1 WEEK 3

Mercy bounced into the room, holding a tray of food excitedly. The tray was placed on her desk as she made her way to the suspended Genji. She lightly tapped Genji on the shoulder, waking him up.

“You’ve been receiving food from that tube for two weeks or so now, so I know you must be excited about this!”

She grabbed the tray and presented it to him. “We got the green light to let you use your jaw again! No tough food, obviously, but it’s progress.” The tray was a chicken katsu dish, with fried chicken cut into little squares and a portion of rice.

“This food… is like what my family used to make.” Genji brought down a sore, scarred arm from suspension to grip a fork.

“Oh really..? What a coincidence.” Mercy said, quite unconvincingly. Though, Genji wasn’t paying attention to that as she proceeded to block his arm. He looked at her with confusion.

“You’ve got a problem with pushing yourself, Shimada. That arm is still healing. I have a fine one right here.” She said, grabbing the fork with her right hand.

She pierced a piece of chicken, dipping it into the sauce as she held it up in front of his mouth. He turned away slightly. “I will not be fed like a child…”

“*I* will not allow you to overexert yourself. Doctor’s orders. Unless you want the tube back?”

“I pick… neither.” He said. Mercy allowed silence to follow as she remained in front of him, frozen. Less of a ‘deer in headlights’, more ‘foreboding parent waiting for their child to admit wrongdoing’. His eyes met hers with defiance, but even he would admit it’s hard to look so pouty at an innocent yet upset mare.

…

“Fine. Make it quick.”

Mercy’s lips curled as she grasped one hand into the other. “Wonderful!” She had to stop herself from clicking her heels in thinly veiled excitement, though it wouldn’t have been such a good idea with heels anyways. She picked the fork back up and held it to his mouth.

Reluctantly, Genji opened his mouth. She pressed the fork into his mouth, placing the chicken on his tongue. She recalled it, using the back of his teeth to slide it off her fork. Closing his mouth, Genji took slow chews so as to not ‘overexert’ himself. The taste spread across his tongue, and he had to resist from smiling. It tasted exactly as he thought it would. Meals he had had in the Shimada castle. He had shared with Kiriko and her mother. He had eaten with his father, while talking about his day. He had eaten with… Hanzo.

So preoccupied, he hadn’t noticed there was something on his face. Liquid dripped down his cheek, clinging to his nose and dropping to the floor. Mercy’s eyes widened as she saw it.

“Genji! You’re crying! What’s wrong? Does something hurt?” Her hands went to the angle of his mandible, where flesh met the new prosthetic, rubbing it.

He was shaken out of his trance by her touch, the lie slipping through his lips easily. “Yes…”

Her big eyes began to water as she looked into his with apologetic sorrow. A rare thought passed through his mind: maybe lying was the wrong choice. “Oh, I’m so sorry..! I didn’t know..!” She wiped her eyes again, fending off unprofessional tears. “How much does it hurt? On a scale from one to ten?”

“It is… a three.”

“A three,” Mercy responded, “but you’re crying?”

Genji thought for a moment. “I am sensitive.” He kept digging the lie deeper, although there was a partial truth in the statement.

Her hand revoked with a nod, as she grabbed the plate and fork. “Perhaps you were right, this is too much…” She turned heel, then began to walk away, her head slightly downcast.

“Maybe,” Genji interrupted her walk, “the rice will be easier for me to eat.” What is he doing?! This woman was only a bother to him, so why was he calling her back?

She turned around, with that spark back in her eyes. “Okay!” She spoke, digging the fork into rice and holding it to his mouth. He opened his chapped lips once more, and swallowed with ease. One pile after another, he eventually finished the entire ball of rice with her help.

“Did that go down smoothly?” Mercy neatly placed the fork back on the plate and looked at Genji expectantly.

“Yes… I…” He hesitated, his brooding and stubbornness forcing him to hold his tongue from saying the word ‘thanks’. “I believe I prefer to eat, rather than the feeding tube.”

“I would hope so.” Mercy responded to match Genji’s response with an underlying snark. She walked back to her desk, a few feet away, and placed the plate on her neat table. Picking up the fork, she speared another piece of chicken and began to eat it. “I won’t let the rest of this go to waste, then.”

The fork hung loosely in her mouth as she typed on the computer. Genji admired her, in his eyes it was a perfect view, picturesque. She took the fork from her lips and pierced chicken again, he watched with an envy: a fitting punishment for his previous lie. Preoccupied in watching her, he hadn’t noticed that her eyes had caught his.

“Yes? Is something the matter?” Mercy looked back into his grey eyes. She had always been told they were the gateway to the soul, but never truly understood it. Until she met Genji. She could see the hurt, the want, the anger. Everything that resided in him. She may have not been able to see through his lies, but she could see him. And what she saw right now was enamoration, whether it had been with her or the food.

“Er… Nothing. I was… reminiscing. The food reminded me of my younger years.” The statement wasn’t false. Just like he said earlier, the food did truly remind him of a dish he’d had at his estate more than a few times. He was just omitting the fact that he was also captivated by her.

“Of course,” she promptly replied, “it was specially designed to suit your palette.” She scraped the fork loosely over the crust of the chicken.

Genji raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that? Who did you ask?”

Mercy raised her hands up with her palms open, slightly tilted to the side. “No need to investigate, we kept your matter entirely private, Genji. I made sure of that.” She paused. “Overwatch has been in contact with a young woman whose efforts in Kanezaka have helped control the Hashimoto clan.”

At the mention of ‘Kanezaka’, Genji’s eyes narrowed. “Kiriko. So you did talk to someone. Of course you lie to me.”

Mercy adamantly shook her head in response. “No! We have a file on her. Your name was brought up… a few times. It helped us understand what kind of a person you are.” She held up the plate. “And what food you like.”
He huffed, air hissing from his nose. “I am no longer the person you read about.”

“I would say you are, but only you know who you are, Genji.” Her eyes gazed across his scarred body as she sighed. “Maybe what you say could be a good thing.”

Chapter Text

MONTH 2

The bright white hue of Mercy’s computer screen illuminated the otherwise dark room. Genji was suspended nearby, with an eye-mask to block the light. More than a few times, she had obstinately apologized for the inconvenient placement of her computer, and her nocturnal hours of work. The eye-mask was the best she could do, other than moving Genji himself and risking reprimands from Overwatch.

Tonight, however, his breathing wasn’t as peacefully soft as it had been. Even if she thought it made her sound like a creep, Mercy found his breathing oddly soothing. That was why she could tell it was different tonight, and her suspicions were confirmed when a voice spoke in the middle of her typing.

“Take the mask off me.” His quiet voice broke through. Mercy looked at him with a soft sigh and smile, peeling the mask off of him.

“I didn’t keep you up, did I?”

He shook his head. “I stayed up because I wanted to.”

Mercy raised a pointed finger to her chin. “Really? Is that a habit of yours; staying up late? You haven’t done it before.”

“Not all of the time, but sometimes. I would sneak out into the-” Genji cut himself off, realizing yet again he was opening up too much. What made this woman so special, to make him do that?

“Into where?” She continued for him. “Your training room?”

“Nevermind… It is not of importance.”

“Okay,” she responded, letting it sit for a while. “Swordsmanship is something truly admirable, you know?”

Genji didn’t respond.

“I see it like my tutelage to become a doctor… You trained very, very hard, and so did I. The only difference is, you have trained since you were a baby.” Mercy giggled at the mental image of a cute baby Genji wielding a wooden sword. “It’s only fair to say you’re a better swordsman than I am doctor.”

“Then,” Genji responded, spite slipping his lips, “Hanzo is an even better swordsman than you are doctor.”

Mercy sighed again, her enforcing eyes falling on Genji. “We’re not talking about Hanzo, we’re talking about you.”

“What is the difference?”

She looked puzzled at his question. “He tried to kill you, Genji. You hate him, do you not?”

Genji bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. “Of course I hate him.” His eyes held that same grave spite. “But that is only further proof why there is no difference between us. If he had not ‘killed’ me, I would’ve killed him. And I fear what I would have become. What I can still become.”

“Genji…” Angela placed a hand on his remaining shoulder, “what are you saying? You don’t have to be a villain… You don’t hate yourself, right?”

“I am a villain,” he responded. “Just like my brother.”

Silence.

“I wish to go to sleep again.”

Mercy sighed, slipping the mask back over his eyes. “Okay, Shimada… Please, rest well.”

MONTH 2 WEEK 1

Genji was suspended in the middle of the office, completely alone. Mercy had gone out to get something, and it had been a decent few minutes since she left. Eventually, the signature sound of her keycard granting access signaled, with the door sliding open. She hauled a large, rectangular box into the room. It was about the same length as her leg, but thicker. It certainly had weight to it, too, as it scraped across the floor while she dragged it in. Genji watched with a detached curiosity.

“Phew… Erschöpft.” She said, falling flat on her butt as soon as she had fully brought it in the room. Her nimble fingers worked the digital touchpad on the box, a hiss following as it automatically opened. Of course, facing away from Genji. Though, whatever it was, her eyes lit up when she saw it. “Perfect!”

His eyes flickered slightly, left completely out. “What… is it?” he asked with a hesitation. The veil loosely fell as his eyes flickered over the box. If he wasn’t suspended, maybe he’d be leaning forwards to try to see what it was.

Mercy closed the crate and walked towards him, her face in between serious and excited. “Well, first, I need to have your consent.” She pointed at his partially prosthetic mandible. “You already have one prosthetic, but it’s temporary.” As if to prove her point, she unlatched and relatched it. “Any more prosthetics you may get would be permanent attachments. They’d be removable, but the area they would attach to would be a surgical installation.”

His lip indented slightly, being bit from the inside. First, his eyes went to his missing arm, then his missing legs. Finally, he looked at her again. “Show me.”

With a nod, she went back to the crate and pulled out a metal leg. It had a dark grey plating, synthetic grey hinges where joints would lay. Red accents were specked on parts of it. She held it up to where his missing legs were.

“We would have to install a bodysuit on your torso, to give this somewhere to attach. You’d be able to take off… at least some of the suit.” Though she spoke in hypotheticals, the suit had already been designed. It consisted of two layers, the soft padding inner and the metal shell.

He looked at the leg with a scowl. “I want my old body back, not… whatever this is.”

“Genji…” she sighed. “You know that’s not possible. This is the best we can do. I can’t force you to accept it.”

“I won’t.”

Mercy licked her lips and bit her cheek. “Okay,” she spoke dejectedly, “I’ll let command know.”

Her head swung down as she held the leg in her arms, almost dragging it on the floor. Though, she carefully placed it back in the box. After sealing it, she pushed it next to her desk. With no joy, she began to document his rejection of the procedure.

ONE DAY LATER

Once again, Mercy entered the office exhausted. Yet this time, it wasn’t because of anything physical. She slumped down in her chair as she turned to face Genji. It was expected for her to hold a professional demeanor when delivering the news, but something so dejected inside her simply didn’t let that happen.

“Genji… Today will be the last day that I’m with you.” She opened, trying to compose herself as much as possible. “I spoke with my boss, Commander Reyes, and he has cut all funding for your program…” Tears threatened her eyes as Genji could almost see his own reflection in the building water. “I’m sorry, I really am… I was hoping I could do so much more.”

Genji’s breathing swapped from his nose to his mouth as his lower jaw shook, almost unnoticeably. “Why..?” Even though it was only a word, it was possibly filled with the most emotion that Genji had expressed to her so far: sorrow.

“T-The prosthetics were too expensive,” she wiped her eye with her sleeve. “Apparently, if they aren’t going to get used it’s ‘entirely a waste of money.’ I wasn’t the one who had them made before you consented, but still-” Both of her hands made her way to her face, rubbing it red. Her eyes were bloodshot, but she kept rubbing them, as if this was a nightmare she could wake up from.

“What happens,” he interrupted, “to you? Or… to me?”

Mercy gave an exhale laugh, only at the absurdity of the situation. “You’ll… be sent to live in a place far, far away from where your brother could find you. O-Of course, you’ll have assistants to help you.” Something built in her stomach, just at the suggestion of throwing him to the wolves like that. All for a boy she had only met a month ago. “As for me? I… don’t know. I actually don’t know if I still work here or not. I guess I’ll find out when my badge stops working.” She laughed again.

He remained silent, his eyes boring into the box that sat only a few feet away from him. He bit down on his front lip. Hard. It was only until Mercy could see an incisor poking through the lip did he stop. She squealed at the sight, snapping her out of the depressive state for just a moment. “Genji! You’re biting through your lip!” She ran to her desk, slamming the drawer open to grab a sewing kit.

As she returned to sew his lip, his eyes continued contact with the box. A war waged in his mind; one part urging him to take back his declination of the procedure, and another assuring him it was the correct option. While this took place, a third part of him, which he had no idea existed, spoke to Mercy.

“I have no choice.”

She cut the end of the sewing string as she placed his lip back. “Say that again? I couldn’t understand you.”

“I either take the surgery or be abandoned in a foreign country.”

Mercy’s eyes widened. “Oh, no no no! T-That’s not at all what I meant by telling you this, Genji! I didn’t mean to guilt you into-”

“I am forced. I don’t care about you, or what will happen to you.” The lie came easier to his lips this time, maybe because it was a white lie. He was terrified of being the reason that this woman who saved his life, no matter the consequences, would suffer because of it.

“Genji…” Despite his harsh demeanor, she clasped her hands on his. “If that is truly what you think…” She left room for him to respond, but he did not. “I’ll call in for the surgery.”

MONTH 2 WEEK 3

“Genji? Genji! Wake up Genji!”

For the second time this year, Genji woke up feeling like hell. The lights stung his eyes, his ears rang despite no loud noises, but something did soothe him. That was seeing Mercy’s face looking at him. At least something had gone right.

“Genji, everything worked fine. Every missing part of your body was replaced!” For the first time, Mercy placed hands on both of Genji’s shoulders. She reached over to grab a mirror, showing Genji his appearance.

His body was what he had expected from seeing the leg. His face, however, was almost entirely covered. A forehead protector on the top, and a mask on the bottom. Just enough room for him to see his… red eyes? He pulled at his eyelid with his organic arm.

“Nanomachines, Genji. They’re in your blood… but they also allow you control over your limbs.” She raised his prosthetic arm in the air and held it above him, being suspended as she let go. At that moment, Genji realized she was right. He had control over his prosthetic limbs, he grabbed his visor. He couldn’t feel, but he could control them.

In cool, short breaths, he replied, “Ah… You’re right…” He was keeping himself composed, but deep down this was horrific. He wanted to throw up.

“A-Aren’t you happy, Genji? Your body, you have-”

“It is… not my body.” Genji turned on the hospital bed, Mercy trying to brace him as he was still fresh out of surgery. “It will never be. I will never accept this body. But… Thank you. I apologize.”

“Apologize?” she repeated. “For what, Genji? I’m sorry you aren’t happy about the prosthetics, but-”

“Not this,” he interrupted, “for what I said when we first met. I said you weren’t a capable doctor. You… are. And I am grateful you are mine, Doctor Ziegler.”

She hadn’t stated her name to him since they first met, and she didn’t wear a nametag.

She smiled. “Genji, you don’t need to apologize. I was never upset or angry at you.”

“I was.” He replied. “I misdirected my hatred. I cannot promise I won’t do it again, it comes in... bouts. But I can recognize now that I should apologize.”

She placed a hand on the side of his face and looked intensely at him. Very unprofessional, she hoped he wouldn’t take back his statement. “I forgive you. Rest now, Genji.”

MONTH 2 WEEK 4

Genji had been recovering from the surgery for a decent while. His schedule consisted of physical therapy, eating, more physical therapy, cognitive tests, and conversations with Mercy, which they both convinced themselves was mental therapy. Every time he used his prosthetic limbs, he did so with a hesitation. He continued to refuse it, but it was necessary. Mercy had called it a “necessary evil”, and that helped him cope, even if just slightly.

Currently, he was in the midst of his morning physical therapy. Today’s exercise consisted of him standing for different periods and reporting his discomfort whenever he experienced it. The goal was to make sure it aligned with the statistics of those who had organic legs. But, it was quite the boring hour of just standing then sitting, so Mercy found things to do in the meantime. Right now, she was setting out a tray of water on the window where a bird was perched.

“What is that?” Genji asked. The question was poorly phrased, ‘what are you doing’ was what he meant to ask, but he was sure she’d understand.

“A sparrow,” she replied. “I believe it’s green-backed. He’s been coming to me in the early hours of the morning.” With a bent pointer-finger, she gently rubbed the bird’s head. Her intermediate phalanx ran over it a few times, the little sparrow eventually closing its eyes to appreciate the gesture.

Genji leaned up slightly while keeping most of his body lying on the bed, usually a hard move for someone, even if they had a strong core like him. Though, with the outer lining of his armor, his partially synthetic spine had easy support to maintain the position. “You are right… It is a green-backed sparrow. What is it doing here?”

Mercy looked back at him. “You… are familiar with it?” Slowly, a smile came to her face. So he liked birds. “Yes, you’re right. It’s usually native to upper South America.”

“My father; he was enamored with them. He gave me the nickname ‘Sparrow’. Since then, I studied them in my free time. I… wanted to have something to converse with him about.” He paused. Genji wasn’t the man to blush, but clearly opening up had made him slightly embarrassed. It also reminded him more of his family, including his brother. What he had done. He felt his vein bulging. Strategically, he changed topics. “What is it doing here?”

She could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, but the nickname was cute. ‘Sparrow’. She mentally noted it. “There was a zoo nearby,” Mercy revoked her hand from the constant petting motion she had been doing, “and it broke open. A few dozen animals escaped, but the birds were especially hard for them to catch.”

“A zoo…” He repeated. “You do not wish to return it back there?”

Giving a soft smile, she shook her head. “No. They wouldn’t be able to take care of it.” She moved slightly, allowing him to see the slightly off-centered wing that seemed as if it had an extra joint. “Its wing is broken. Freshly, from what it looks like.”

“Oh…” Genji’s face turned a mix between grave and reserved. He wasn’t especially good with animals or birds in particular, but like he said, he had done his research. A broken wing that looked like that, in their current ecosystem, was a death sentence for a bird. He didn’t want to bring it up, for she either knew already or she didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her if she didn’t, and he would feel cruel to shatter her fragile hope if she did.

“Also,” she cut through his gloom, “something tells me it didn’t belong in that zoo in the first place.”

“But… it broke its wing out here. If it was in the zoo, it would’ve been fine.” Genji replied.

“Perhaps,” she nodded. “Perhaps it would’ve been better for it to live a life of ignorant bliss in that zoo… But it has seen the outside now, hasn’t it? If it wants, it can fly right back to the zoo when it’s better. If not, it can stay out here and live its life free. It doesn’t have to stay with me, but a visit would be nice.” She spoke, all the while looking at the sparrow drinking her water. After finishing it, the sparrow hopped on its feet towards a nearby branch. Mercy closed the window.

Chapter Text

MONTH 3

Genji paced around his room. Well, Mercy’s room. He had come to think of it as his room in the past month, as she had added a bed in the corner (properly far away from her bed, properly isolated to maintain professionalism, of course) for him. Technically, the spot was originally meant for her bed, but she had found it got in the way too much for her little use of it. Her bed was placed in the oversized storage room.

“Genji?” Mercy slowly opened the door as she saw him walking in little circles. Since last month, he hadn’t stayed up late at all. She thought about scolding him, but she realized the hypocrisy in it. Even if he was still healing. “Are you still up? It’s…” she looked at the clock, “1:08 already? Mein Gott…”

“Doctor,” the name was easy to call her now for Genji. His body was still full of anger, but she managed to subside it. At least, at times. This was one of those times.  “I was trying to keep myself awake. I couldn’t fall asleep at a proper time, so I thought I’d reset my sleep schedule.” His headgear was set aside, as it frequently was, so there was nothing for his tired eyes to peak behind. The bags under them were heavy.

She pinched the bridge of her nose as her head swung down. “Genji, that’s not how it works…” She let out an exasperated sigh as she shook her head and looked at him again. She raised the cup of coffee she had left the room for to her lips.

Ignoring her statement, Genji’s eyes narrowed at the cup. “What are you drinking? The smell is…” he took a moment to sniff the air, an involuntary twitch in his neck, “very strong.”

She held out the cup, showing its contents to him. “Coffee. French roast. Even Lena won’t drink it.” The cup was dark black, steaming. The way she was casually drinking it, neither the heat nor taste seemed to bother her.

“Coffee… I have never had it before.” He hummed as he observed the dark liquid. His red eyes reflected on its surface.

“Never had coffee?” Mercy seemed almost shocked, her mouth forming an ‘o’. An idea so foreign to her, for a second she thought he was lying. Hesitantly, she reached her hand holding the mug closer to him. “It might help with your sleep- Agh, no! I shouldn’t be encouraging you!”

Before she could retract her hand, Genji’s wrapped around the mug. He pulled it closer towards him. “Let me try some.”

“Genji,” she tugged lightly back on the mug, “you aren’t going to like it.” She warned as if a parent talking to child.

“Who knows? I might.”

She groaned of defeat. Relinquishing her grip, her free hand placed on her hip. “Fine, but spit it out in the sink when you don’t like it.” Almost unnoticeably, her posture straightened as she watched.

The cup was warm to his hands, despite the scalding temperature of the liquid it contained. He tilted it towards his lips. “It is… bitter.” He swirled the liquid around his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Then, still experimenting, he lifted it again for another taste. There was hesitation but curiosity. 

“You… like it?” Mercy asked, her head cocked sideways. Her eyes widened even further as she saw him taking another sip. “You don’t think it tastes burnt?”

“No. Burnt is a good word,” he replied as he looked into the cup again. “But a good burnt. I cannot explain it.” Akin to a golden retriever, he sniffed the coffee, as if it would answer some question he had.

Mercy giggled slightly, raising a fist to cover her mouth. “So you like it?” She reached forward to grab the cup from his hands. Partly because she wanted to finish off the rest, and partly because she didn’t want to let Genji get too much caffeine. 

Genji gave a solemn nod in response. His thumb grazed over the skin of his other fingers. “I think so. It gives me the same feeling as gyokuro.” His mechanical arm hissed slightly as he flexed his other arm. “That is the caffeine?” 

“That is the caffeine.” She repeated his words with a smile. The cup rested in her hands, still emanating residual heat that kept her hands warm. After a final sip, her grip readjusted towards the top of the mug, placing it on the desk beside her. “Perhaps I can make you that tea next time? ‘Gyokuro’, you said? I’m sure we have it somewhere here.”  

“As you wish. But it is not spring, the leaf-buds won’t be anywhere near ready.” Genji raised his head slightly, his thumb rubbing against his fingers again. His gaze wandered as if already calculating how they might somehow find the proper leaves for the tea.

“Ah… Well I was more talking about bagged tea.” Mercy gave a pointed finger which rested on her bottom lip. “We have many tea bags in the cafeteria. They should have yours.” 

Genji’s head turned at that; sharply. “Tea bags? No… It isn’t the same.” For whatever reason, the quiet contentment that had softened him moments ago seemed to vanish. His shoulders relaxed as his head drifted downward. “I am going to sleep,” he spoke as he walked towards the mattress. 

Mercy, unsurprised, sighed. ‘There he goes.’ This had been how Genji had been since his anger became less upfront. One moment, he would be depressed and resentful, the next he would be at peace. Maybe if she was a psychologist, it would be easier for her to understand.

MONTH 3 WEEK 1

Mercy desperately slid her keycard against the sensor, accidentally chipping off a piece of her nail as it hit against the edge. She had gone out for a moment to grab breakfast when a sharp, splintering crash had rung out from her room. If she could hear it from the cafeteria, everyone on base could’ve. So it only took a moment for her to dash over there. Genji could be in trouble, or hurt, or God forbid… 

Her keycard scanned successfully after what felt like forever. But as her hand reached out for the door, a much larger one blocked it.

“Doctor Ziegler… What’s happening in there?” Winston’s low voice intruded her panic. He looked at her with a mix of concern and authority. “Should I get the commander?”

“W-Winston!” She managed to catch her breath. “No, no! It’s alright, I think my patient just fell, is all…” 

He looked at her, completely aware of her hurry. ”If I think you’re unsafe for even a moment, I’m coming in there, Doctor.” He revoked his hand.

“I understand… Thank you, Winston.” She responded as her breaths steadied.

She turned back towards the door and gently opened it.

From this view, she could see absolutely everything. The bathroom door was open, and in it there Genji was. In front of him, a completely shattered sink’s shards splayed on the floor. He breathed through clenched teeth, his cybernetic body hissing in sync. In his biological hand, he clenched his prosthetic by the wrist, so tightly it looked painful.

“What… did you make me?” The fixed position his eyes had on the sink did not move. As she inched closer, she could see he was trembling. “What is my purpose?”

“P-Purpose? Genji, what are you talking about..?” Her voice was gentle, like an angel. Cautiously she inched closer again. Her fear wasn’t at him at all, but for him. He could be on the verge of a mental break.

“There was something on the sink,” his gaze finally met hers, with a twitch in his neck from tension, “I tried to pick it up. My fingers… clenched tight enough to kill. Enough to break this.” His breath quickened, shallower now. “Is that what I am? A killing machine?”

“G-Genji! You’re jumping to conclusions-” Again, she attempted to defuse. But there was nothing she could say when Genji slid open his prosthetic arm, revealing a hidden compartment separated into three rows. Inside of one, a loose shuriken was loaded.

“Kiriko told you I trained with shuriken too?” He hissed, giving clipped words. “It was for fun. I never wanted to kill anyone with them.” 

Mercy swallowed. She had suspected this was the greater plan for Genji, but she wanted to shield him from that truth for as long as possible. “Please… Calm down, Genji. You keep talking about killing… nothing like that has happened.”

His jaw clenched, teeth grating against each other. “How long until it does, Ziegler!?” Heat rose to his head, his back hissing again as steam released. His feet slammed against the ground as he walked towards her, gripping his hands into fists. “People either use a weapon, or fear it. So which one are you, doctor?” The hot air from his nose grazed hers, the single inch of height difference helping naught with his intimidation. Still, he remained centimeters from her face.

“I won’t use you, Genji. I swear on my mother and father’s graves.” Her eyes fluttered at him. She could swear her eyelashes grazed his on the way down. Maybe he wouldn’t understand what they meant to her, but hopefully he could understand the severity of her promise. “As for being afraid…” She reached to pry his mechanical hand from his own grip, outstretching his fingers then placing it on her throat. “I have nothing to be afraid of.”

Genji’s eyes widened. He took an unsteady step back, hand held in place by Mercy. “What are you doing..? Stop this…” His whole body shook, other than his arm, which he had locked in place.

“Stop..!” He repeated, this time louder. But Mercy insisted, her hands remaining firmly on his arm, keeping it on her neck. “Stop!”

At his exclamation, Mercy’s fingers tapped the touchpad just barely in her reach, locking the door. ‘Sorry, Winston, but I can’t have you interrupt now,’ she thought as her hands took a much lighter touch on his arm now. They went from an iron grip to a light graze on his wrist and knuckles.

“Do you think I’m scared of you?” Mercy asked with a soft but adamant tone, her gaze sternly locked on Genji. “All you have to do is squeeze, and I'll be gone.” She leaned into the hand, cold fingers pressing against her neck’s soft flesh. “But you won’t. If you wanted to hurt me, you already would’ve.”

His hand hissed as it remained locked in place, filling the silence. After just a few moments, he tore his hand back. A slight red appeared on Mercy’s neck where she had pressed into him. Servos whirred in his arm as it went limp, his knees bending slightly as if it weighed him down. He rested against the entrance to the bathroom door on the floor, still a slight tremble. 

“I could’ve killed you,” he managed between faintly jittering teeth, “why would you ever risk that?”

Mercy lowered herself beside him, placing a hand on the sharp metal of his ankle. “I want you to understand that I would never do anything that wasn’t in your best interest. You don’t have to trust me with your life.” Her eyes softened at the sight of his calming face, a small smile. “But I trust you with mine. That seems fair, doesn’t it?”

Genji remained silent, his eyes finding a sudden interest in the grooves of the floor.

MONTH 3 WEEK 3

Lightly came the fans of Mercy’s computer as it processed thousands of gigabytes of code. Genji sat in a chair not too far from the computer. It wasn’t like he could be any farther, though, as the wires from her computer ran into his synthetic spine. Each small twitch in his fingers was converted into a line of code, then sent back to be stored in the computer.

Her fingers bound to her keyboard, eyes to monitor. “Try to flex your right forearm for me, Genji,” she requested as she input another keystroke. As he reluctantly did, metal and rubber in his prosthetic shifted, a new series of code output on her console. She raised a pen to her lips, lightly pressing them as she studied it. “Pain in the wrist?”

He groaned. His nerves had been surgically connected to create a synthetic ‘feel’ in his prosthetics. “...Slightly,” he mumbled. Instinctively, he mimicked the movement in his left arm. It was weaker, but there was no pain in his wrists.

“Ah, they’re differing…” She spoke, having already seen the discrepancy in the lines of code corresponding with the movement of his arms. “Not to worry, that can be fixed. A simple recalibration of how much power your arm will typically exert.” 

Pushing her chair back, she rose, stepping away from the computer. Her heels clicked lightly against the polished floor as she approached the treatment chair Genji lay on. Bracing herself on one of the armrests, she kneeled next to his outstretched legs. “I’m going to test your sensory output in your legs now, okay? Relax…” 

She pressed a manicured finger against the top of his foot. First, she felt the hard metal shell, which slowly yielded into a soft under-layer. It was an odd feeling, but not discomforting. It had been according to her recommendations for the design; a shock-absorbant squishy layer mimicking fat would provide him comfort. However, when it faced sudden impact, the area would retract back into him. For a regular human, the idea of shock-absorbant material retracting would be entirely backwards. But Genji was not a regular human. It aligned perfectly with his metal exoskeleton, being capable of deflecting swords and arrows.

She moved up to his calf, using two hands now. Slowly, she pressed her thumbs into its underside and swept upwards in deliberate strokes. A restrained groan escaped his lips. Reaching his thighs, she squeezed them at their midsection. “Do you feel that?”

Genji’s lip twisted slightly as he looked down at Mercy. “This is… mortifying.” Steam hissed from the seams in his exoskeleton. His leg rolled uncomfortably. “Surely there is a better way?”

“I’m almost done, Genji.” She responded, pressing deeper on the final sweep. Pulling her slender fingers away, she carefully cracked her knuckles and walked away, sitting contently in her chair. The console was now filled with a series of different corresponding diagnostic codes.

“It looks like the sensation in your inner thigh is unnaturally heightened.” She tapped a finger on the screen, tracing a line of text. After thinking for a moment, her fingers danced across the keyboard. With a curt nod, she signaled to Genji. “Touch yourself.”

Hesitantly, Genji pressed a thumb on his inner thigh. “Are we done..?”

A fresh line appeared on her console. She smiled, palms meeting each other in satisfaction. “Wonderful!” She spun in her chair to face him. “We are. Let me disconnect the sensors-”

Before Mercy’s hands even touched the armrests, Genji’s had yanked the wires connected to his spine. Buzzing and sparks followed from the violent yank, Mercy’s eyes widening. She ran over, ensuring that nothing had broken, then looked back up at him.

“Why did you do that?!” She exclaimed, a rare tone of anger in her voice. Her hand snapped to grab the bundle of wires and hold it up to his face. “These are fiberglass wires! Your prosthetics aren’t indestructible either!”

A scoff, he whipped his head back. “Why should I care?” His words were clipped with a narrow gaze. Breaking it, he pushed himself to his feet.

“Because that could’ve hurt you, Genji!” She placed the wires back down, replacing them with a finger pointing in his face. “It was reckless!” Her breaths came heavy now, in between scolding and attempting to bring herself back down.

Genji walked forward towards the door. He had put up a few defiant fits like this before, and always stormed off to the cafeteria to clear his thoughts. Mercy was sure that was where he would go, but she didn’t want to follow him to continue the argument, so she raised her voice as he left. “If any of these cables broke, you could’ve lost complete control over your spine! A thousand dollars out of my paycheck! Another multi-day surgery!” 

He kept moving forward. With a wince on his face.

Chapter Text

MONTH 4

Genji was calmly eating in the mess hall. It was exactly 9:07 PM; a little late for dinner, but that was for the best. Overwatch was by no means a small organization, but this site had a particularly small amount of people. He didn’t want to risk a single person besides Mercy seeing his face, and it wasn’t exactly the easiest to eat with a mask on. He’d already embarrassed himself once, trying to drink from a straw with it on; thank heavens no one was there.

It was raining, the long rectangular windows on the side of the room dotted with droplets. This same heavy rain had persisted for the past few weeks, but tonight it seemed to be more gentle. It reminded him of plum rain.

As he thought that, chewing a piece of chicken in his mouth, the hydraulics from the door behind him swung open. His eyes widened slightly, grabbing his visor and mask, slapping them back on his face. It was only then that he turned around.

There stood a young woman with a brown fringe messily swept over her face. She wore orange pyjama pants with a white star print on them and an oversized grey shirt. Her eyes pressed shut as she yawned, holding her knuckles to her mouth, mumbling “hell, it’s late…”

Opening her eyes, she gave an instinctive yelp seeing Genji. “S-Sorry! I just didn’t think anyone would be up at this hour!” she rambled out after managing to catch her breath. Her cheeks were slightly red as she gave an awkward laugh looking at him. That awkward laugh only grew as Genji did not respond, simply walking to put his tray back.

“Oi, wait up big guy!” Tracer zipped after him, her night sandals slapping against the floor. She managed her way in front of him, blocking the tray collection area. A hand pressed on his, pushing it back slightly. “I haven’t seen you before!”

A hiss of air escaped through Genji’s clenched teeth. His fingers met hers, prying her hand off of him. Carefully but still exuding spite, as if he was using his prosthetic hand. “Leave me alone.” He walked closer, almost pushing the food tray into her ribs as he tried to maneuver it past her.

“Nuh uh,” she responded, puffing her chest out. “Not until I know who you are! I’ll start first, if you’d like.” She gave a genteel bow, giggling just a bit. Pressing a hand to her chest, she started, “My name is Lena! My callsign is Tracer. I’m eighteen, but the best pilot you’ll ever meet!”

Even though he promised himself he wouldn’t engage, the girl’s words did interest him slightly. “A teenage pilot..?” With all of the strength he had, he tried to sound disengaged. “What interest does Overwatch have in that, Tracer?”

“Well, I’m on a top-secret assignment! I can’t just go around telling you that!” Her finger rapped against where his nose would be, much to his displeasure. Still meeting him with a wide smile, she nodded. “Your turn!”

With her guard finally down, Genji pushed past Tracer and dropped his tray in the collection area. Tracer looked at him with betrayal, gritting her teeth and letting out a ‘grr’. Genji tuned her out, turning on his heel and leaving. Even as Tracer shouted behind him, “That was proper rude, y’know!” he continued. 

ONE DAY LATER

The next morning, Tracer woke up particularly early. She knew Mercy always stopped by the pantry to pick her two coffee pods of choice for the day. She rattled the doorknob, then knocked.

“Doctor Ziegler! You in there?” Tracer peeped through the window as her knuckles hit the door again.

Mercy’s heels clicked as she walked towards the door, sliding it open. “Lena? Is something the matter?”

She tapped a finger to her chin, feigning that she had forgotten her question. After a second, she pointed it at the ceiling as if the idea had come back to her. “The cyborg bloke… do you know him?”

Mercy’s breath caught a hitch. Tracer had known that they had rescued Genji, but she had no idea what he looked like. She still shouldn’t, because Mercy had barely seen him leave the medical wing. “Genji?” She titled her head carefully sideways.

“That’s Genji?” Her jaw dropped as she looked at Mercy in disbelief. “I thought you said he was sweet!” 

“Oh, Lord…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “What did he say to you?” With her other hand, Mercy rubbed her temples. This couldn’t be good.

She puffed her cheeks as she got on her tippy toes. “He was right mean to me! I was just trying to talk to him and he left!” Her hands planted firmly on her hips, looking at the doctor as if it was her fault.

Mercy placed a hand on her chin and solemnly nodded. “I understand, Lena. I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Hold on!” Tracer firmly grasped her sleeve. “Why don’t me and him just talk it out, Dr. Ziegler? Like adults?”

Her reply was met with a smile. Not dismissive like one would to a child, but instead admiring her tenacity. “Like adults, you say?” As she said this, she turned around and grabbed her single-serve coffee containers from the shelf, “he wakes up at 10 A.M., on Friday I’ll be on break, and-”

Before Mercy could finish, Tracer was already chirping thanks. She bound Mercy’s unprepared arms in a hug. She didn’t give her time to accept her thanks either, already leaving, bouncing on her feet.

MONTH 4 WEEK 1

Genji gave heavy, exaggerated breaths as he stared at Mercy. The most intimidating stare he could muster up. This was routine for Mercy, she was no longer surprised by the behavior. She simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That girl…” He groaned. “Why did you let her come after me? She annoys me.”

“You can’t just talk to me, Genji,” she stated as she wrote, her words flowing with her movements. Her eyes couldn’t choose between him and the paper she wrote on. “Even if you don’t want to talk to me either.”

“I don’t need to. Especially not someone like… her.” His tongue dragged out the last word of his sentence. Tracer had been a particularly ‘interesting’ character to him, as he came to in their quarter-hour conversation, caused only by the fact he had no way to get out of it. 

Mercy sighed as she fully gave him her attention. “What do you see wrong with Lena? Is it her exuberance? You weren’t like that in your youth?”

Genji looked at his scarred hand. He understood what she meant: when he was a teenager. But it struck him deeper than that. It felt like he would never feel the joy of a youthful, adept body again. He had already begun to feel it on its way out, but perhaps he could’ve tricked himself into believing it wasn’t.

“She’s only eighteen,” Mercy went on, unable to see his eyes and the thoughts running through his mind, “you were partying at that age weren’t you? All youth have a spark in them.”

“Don’t.” Genji’s voice cut through, “Don’t talk about my youth, doctor.”

She exhaled and gave a small nod of reassurance. “Okay.”

The room remained quiet for some time. The doctor didn’t bother to look back at her notepad, but neither did she continue to look at Genji. Her gaze simply floated around him. His husky breaths eventually returned, being the easier way for him to breathe. She had told him nosebreathing was important, but it wasn’t the time to correct him on it now.

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Hm?” Her head perked up. She placed the pencil that had loosely remained in her fingers down. “Say what?”

“You speak of youth as if it’s foreign to you. Even for someone in their twenties.” 

The corners of her lips curled in an odd way, as if they couldn’t tell top from bottom. “It’s not nice to bring up a woman’s age!” Mercy teased as she pointed a finger and wagged it. She was only a year or two older than him, of course it was a joke. Genji didn’t smile, or if he did, she couldn’t see it. His head was still pointed at the ground. 

“When I was eight, my parents died. Both on the same day, in the same air strike. ” Her lips straightened as she began. The notepad was now placed fully to the side. “I try to remember every bit of that day, no matter how much it hurts. The snow was heavy. The sky gray. So many omnics had died near our neighborhood, whenever I would go outside I could taste metal. I can still...” 

She shivered slightly. She realized she couldn’t tell the full story. The only time she had ever gotten close was when she visited a weaponsmith at 14. Even then, only as far as she had gotten now, she broke into tears. “I still can’t take my eye off someone and not get nervous. They were volunteering at a hospital. I did everything I could to become a doctor. From then until now, I have done nothing but.” 

She looked at Genji, who let out a hard breath. The sternomastoid in his neck bulged. “Your parents and youth were taken from you.”

“Yes,” she whispered, “but I hope that I’ve made the best of it.”

“I am… sorry.” Genji stood up and wiped his eyes. There was no attempt to hide it anymore. He couldn’t handle it. He twisted the doorknob and left.

MONTH 4 WEEK 2

“Goo~d morning!” Tracer came to Genji for the third time. It was the second time Mercy had repeated this ritual for her; leaving for the bathroom while Tracer snuck in the medical wing, then her room. 

He gave a heavy groan. “Good morning, Miss Oxton.” It was absurd to call a teenager, someone 8 years younger than him, “miss”. But it allowed him to pretend he only saw her as a coworker.

“Tracer is doing very well this morning, thank you very much for asking!” She smiled, looking away from him to the room. It was a mix of doctoral items: cabinets, computers, robotics that had kept Genji suspended; and of Mercy’s personal effects: trophies, books, a box that definitely didn’t contain sweets and chocolate. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He sat on his bed, servos whirring slightly. The bed was plush, he couldn’t deny it. Though it was a shame it was so big, for it let Tracer sit beside him. She had grabbed a book from Dr. Ziegler’s shelf and was now turning its pages. “You shouldn’t be-”

“Oi, hush!” she quickly responded. “As long as you don’t tell her, she’ll never know.” Her eyes didn’t pry from the pages. Lena didn’t exceptionally like to read, but she was enamored by it. Maybe it was something about a physical medium that she liked. She spotted the genre on the back of the book. “Ooo~, it’s a romance!” 

“No,” he responded. “not only romance. It’s about… processing the past.” Genji’s hand went to the cover, slowly folding the book closed. 

“What, you’ve read it before?” Tracer looked at him, then back at the cover of the book, the title. “The Reader?”

He shook his head. “Light studying.” 

“Very interesting.” Tracer said with a hint of sarcasm, almost as if she was mocking him. She stood and returned the book to its shelf. “Do you listen to music? I’ve got a record player in my room.”

Genji made a muffled “mhh” noise, so she continued, “Doctor Ziegler does. You know what she likes?”

“Mozart.” 

“Mozart!” she repeated. “Only when she’s focusing, though.” The conversation died again. She had finished placing the book back and was now awkwardly standing in front of him. She tapped her foot on the ground.

“You know,” she broke the silence, “you don’t have to feel like I’m your friend. I’d be right chuffed if you did, but at least don’t think of me as an annoying kid.” 

“I don’t,” he hissed. ‘Anymore’ was missing from the statement. There wasn’t entirely malice in his voice, but it wasn’t very warm either. “I simply have no interest in making friends right now.” 

A slight exhale, followed by a nod that made her appear more mature. “Well, I do, love. But I understand.” She went towards the door, slowly closing it behind her.

“How is he?” Mercy stood next to the door with a foot against the wall.

“Agh!” She jumped at the unexpected Ziegler. “Doctor! You scared me.” 

Mercy smiled, taking a sip from her green tea. Her smile soured as the liquid hit her tastebuds. “Nope. Still not for me. So, what did he say?” She pressed the mug to her lips again.

“Well, he said I wasn’t annoying… but he said it all mean like.” She puffed her chest and bawled her fists. “I’m not interested in making friends!” she spoke, mimicking his voice unnaturally gruff. 

She took one long gulp from her mug. A nod. “It’s hard for him, Lena. But you’re helping him.” Her eyes met Tracer’s, and she smiled. “I promise.” 

“He did get excited when I talked about you, though.” 

“Oh?” She placed the cup on a nearby supply cart. Her eyes shimmered slightly as she leaned in. “How do you mean?”

“Nothin’ much,” she spoke casually as she recollected, “he was just a little more proper when I talked about you.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” She placed a friendly hand on Tracer’s small bicep, pressing in slightly. “Thank you, Lena. Come by any time. Now shoo, I’m busy.” She smiled.

“Yes, doc!” Tracer saluted ramrod, then marched off towards her sector. As she felt Mercy’s gaze follow her down, she turned back and flashed a wide smile before running off.

 Lightly now came Mercy’s footsteps as she entered the room again. Even the smallest wedge, if worn too often, may damage many functions in the foot. This was to say, today she wore flat black mules which made a slap against the floor at every step. Genji’s eyes flickered toward her at the first sound, then retreated back to the floor. 

This time, she didn’t start the conversation. She didn’t think Genji would, but she simply wanted to give him a rest. She began cleaning loose objects on her desk, though few had accumulated. It was during this that she noticed a book had been oddly protruding from the shelf. At the same time, Genji noticed this.

“That was L- Tracer. I didn’t touch your stuff.” He affirmed. Despite that, he had some guilt in his gaze, as if he should’ve stopped her. 

She giggled. “I don’t mind. I can’t expect you to not be bored watching me work, can I?” Turning to face him, her short nails traced along the spines of her books, pushing in The Reader as her fingers met it. 

“Boredom is not of my concern.” Genji replied simply. Pistons fired in his legs as he stood up.

“It’s important to keep a healthy mind,” she replied, “so it should be.” As if he was about to request it, she handed him a glass of water and a pill. “Take this. I’ll have you run some endurance tests on the far side of this wing.”

…

Later that night, when Genji returned to his room, he spotted something. Atop his bedframe, hung by a string looped on a nail, was a vinyl cover. The outline of a vinyl inside was visible. A post-it note stuck to the cover read “2040’s Japanese. Love, Lena”.