I guess I'm writing Overwatch fanfic now.

"Your card, sir," the waiter said as he nervously handed the checkbook back to Hanzo, clearly intimidated by the man's dangerous aura.

Hanzo paid the waiter's nervous demeanor no attention and took the checkbook.

"I heard that your dorm is going to open soon," Satya's smooth voice brought his attention back from the expensive bill.

"I am aware," Hanzo said curtly.

"Too bad about not getting a single. Have you met your roommate yet?" Satya appraised Hanzo with a cool gaze, obviously trying to get a read on him. A foolish endeavor; Shimadas were trained not to show their emotions to others.

"I have not. Having to share a room is unlucky, but having to wait hours for it to be cleaned is just lack of planning on the part of the administratio-"

A loud buzzing interrupted Hanzo. He sighed and pulled his phone of of his pocket. Do Not Respond! was the contact name. Hanzo pressed talk and brought the phone to his ear.

"Anija! You picked up! I was worried that you wouldn't."

"Make it short, Genji. I have places to be." Satya looked up sharply at the mentioned name. Genji? she mouthed questioningly. Hanzo nodded and stood up, collecting his belongings.

"See you on Thursday, Satya-san."

"What, you're leaving already?" She bristled in irritation. "We have things to talk about!"

"Thursday," Hanzo called brusquely behind him as he walked out of the restaurant. Something had gone wrong back home. He knew Genji wouldn't contact him unless it was urgent. He also knew Genji was their father's favorite despite his obvious flaws, so it came as no surprise that he hadn't informed Hanzo directly. It was, however, unfortunate that he had to leave the Vishkar protégé behind, but there were other times the two could discuss business.

"This line is private. There are no bugs nearby," Hanzo said in rapid Japanese. "What do you need to tell me, Genji?"

"Oh, uh, there's been a mistake," Genji responded, slipping from English back to his native language as smoothly as Hanzo had.

"Tell me what happened." To anyone else, Hanzo's voice was calm and collected, but Genji knew better. His brother was angry, and not in the slow simmering way which built up as things didn't go his way-no, this was an anger that was always beneath the surface of the elder's professional facade, the anger that only reared its ugly head when he was talking to Genji or their father or someone who knew he meant business.

"This doesn't have to do with the Clan," Genji clarified quickly, and Hanzo frowned ever so slightly in confusion. "It's to do with the university. I was looking at Dad's messages and uh," Genji paused, clearly nervous.

"Spit it out."

"You're rooming with a freshman."

Hanzo stopped. "Is that the reason you called me? The only reason?"

"Well, yes, I thought you'd-" Genji's voice was cut off as Hanzo hung up. The elder Shimada sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He could already feel a headache start to set in.

While talking with his brother, Hanzo's feet had led him to his residence hall. It was the same place he had lived for the last two years, the nicest hall on campus. As he approached, he saw a cleaning crew leaving.

"Hmph. I suppose my room is ready," Hanzo mused aloud. He entered and got his dorm key from the front desk.

"Ah, Room 204. Good luck with that one," the receptionist said with a knowing look. Hanzo ignored him and walked up the stairs to the second floor. He found his room with ease and put the key into the keyhole and turned it, unlocking the door with a soft click.

He opened the door to what at first appeared to be a normal double, with two beds, two desks, and a man standing in the middle of the room, facing the windows.

The man turned at the sound of the door and tipped his hat at Hanzo. "Howdy," he said with an easy smile.

Hanzo didn't speak. He was too busy staring at the other man. The man was dressed like an old-fashioned cowboy, even down to the spurs on his boots. There could only be one person who dressed like this on campus: Jesse McCree. McCree was infamous for causing trouble, and it would soil the Shimada name if Hanzo was caught associating with him. Not that Genji wasn't doing a good enough job of that himself, what with his complete lack of regard for the Clan, but this could be disastrous for his business.

"What's the matter, darlin'? Cat got your tongue?" McCree drawled.

"Kuso!" Hanzo cursed quietly. This was not what he needed in his life; it was difficult enough without a roommate as troublesome as the cowboy was rumored to be. McCree looked at him questioningly and Hanzo finally deigned to respond. "I am Hanzo Shimada. This is to be my room," he said, voice radiating power. With luck the cowboy would recognize the name and know his place.

"Nice to meet ya. I'm Jesse McCree, but you can call me whatever you like," McCree said with a wink. Clearly he hadn't heard of the Shimada Clan. That or he was purposefully trying to antagonize-wait, had he just winked at Hanzo?

Hanzo drew himself out of his thoughts to study the other man, to learn what he could from his mannerisms. He had a feeling things were not as they seemed. Maybe, just maybe he could salvage something from this before it turned into an unsolvable mess. McCree met Hanzo's gaze and held it, his brown eyes sharp and devoid of the flirting that fell so easily from his lips. No, these were the eyes of a man who had seen much and survived despite the odds. McCree blinked slowly, and his face relaxed into a smirk.

"Like what you see?"

He did, because now Hanzo knew what he was facing. As a Shimada, he had been trained not only to hide his own emotions, but also to see clearly into the hearts and minds of others. However, it seemed McCree had understood what was happening and he could play the game just as well as Hanzo. Now that McCree was onto him, Hanzo could see little of the intellect from before, and the cowboy gave off that impression that he was just a simpleton, wearing an outfit that had really never been even close to fashionable.

Sensing that the Shimada member wasn't going to speak, McCree pulled a cigar from his pocket and brought it close to the lighter which had appeared in his hand. He puffed at it a few times before noticing Hanzo was still staring at him.

"Want one?" McCree offered his cigar to Hanzo. "This is my last one so we'd have to share. Not that I'd mind."

Again with the flirting. Hanzo felt alarm bells going off in his head. The cowboy's behavior couldn't lead anywhere good. He-no, those alarm bells were real. The fire alarm was going off, its shrill-pitched beeping activated by McCree's cigar, the offender glancing up at the smoke detector with a look of surprise on his face. The beeping was instantly headache-inducing and Hanzo took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It didn't work. He opened his mouth. This isn't going to work, he wanted to say. I need a new roommate, he wanted to say.

Instead, he said, "I am going to fucking kill him."

This was saved in my drafts as "get McFucked" but I didn't think that name would go over too well as a title.