The man leaned over the wooden rails, and placed his hand upon his mask. Wind blew over his grey face as he lifted the protective gear and held it by his side. He looked onward to the horizon, over the tops of buildings, to the setting sun.

"It's nice to get some fresh air after a long time in there," a woman remarked as she walked to stand beside him. She too, joined in the man's gaze towards the sun.

Not acknowledging her observation, the man tapped his finger slowly and looked in the woman's direction ever so slightly and sighed, "what will we do with Hanzo?" The man spoke so heavily, his voice almost cracking at 'Hanzo,' unsure if he was even allowed to say it.

"Well," started the woman, pushing her blonde hair back as she thought a moment, "we can only hope he is genuine in wanting to join us. I imagine it will take some time to get used to," she trailed off. The man beside her had leaned over, his mechanical hands covering the soft flesh of his face. For once, he looked at the woman and smiled. It was forced, but the man was trying.

"He is my brother." And he returned his smooth, metal visor to his face. It was uncomfortable for him, with tears having no place to go, but he didn't want the woman to see him shed them. It didn't stop the woman from scrutinizing him, however. The man padded away back into the base, leaving her to the darkness now that the sun had set.

Inside, the man knelt in his room, trapped with memories of the past. It was all that was left of most people he knew back then.

"You must take the helm of our family with me, Genji," Hanzo had commanded him one day, in the Shimada temple. The gods were looking down upon the two brothers that day, and they became bonded with more than blood. A storm was raging, and cackles of lighting lit up the rice-paper windows ahead of Genji. His whittling was benefitting these bright bursts, for the candles were burning low.

Genji had looked away, ignoring the blazing gaze of his eldest sibling. He had said nothing. Hanzo took a threatening step forward and repeated himself.

"Are you a Shimada or not? Honor your family!" His voice was frenzied. Genji decided to honor his brother by flicking his eyes up at him for a moment. Hanzo was gripping his bow tightly, veins popping out at Genji with a force of their own. His gaze was honor enough, he figured. Genji cursed at Hanzo to leave, and continued with his whittling. It became so deathly quiet that Genji almost thought he had. Even the thunder which had continuously rolled had stopped now. When he looked around again, however, Hanzo had his arrow between his fingers and was aiming straight for his brother.

"Don't make me do this, Genji," he had lost his ferocity and was now crying through clenched teeth. Sensing a serious threat, Genji sprang up and was suddenly behind his brother with the whittling knife around his neck.

"Fine, Hanzo, I shall honor my family by leaving it," Genji whispered, and withdrew the blade. He turned quickly and bade for never returning to such a despised place. But before he reached the sliding doors, he felt something hot lance throught his chest. Looking down, to his horror, was a bloodied arrow's head, piercing through his heart. He slumped onto the stained tatami.

That night, the heavens shook with force never seen before or after in Japan. Once morning arrived did it cease into a dull rain.

Genji had to catch himself from throwing the stars he now held in his hand. He knew he must meditate, to clear his head. These memories were surfacing old hatred he had once conquered.

It was now morning, and calls were made to report to the mess hall of the base. Operations were continuing, unfazed by recollections of the past as Genji and Hanzo were. Usually, Genji avoided attending these early morning breakfasts, having no need to eat, but today he sought consolation from last night's test of his character. A man like himself was seated across the room with other agents speaking with him. A distinctly robotic voice called out to him, and instantly soothed Genji. His gaze never left his mentor as he crossed the room on light feet.

"Peace be upon you this day," greeted the man. The others took a less formal route and simply said good morning to Genji. He nodded respectfully, saying nothing behind his visor.

"Zenyatta," he said finally, after everyone had shuffled away. genji's mentor held up a hand to stop him from continuing.

"The answers you seek are not with me, although I may be your kin through our mechanical bodies." Although Zenyatta had no human eyes, Genji could feel them pierce through him. He hung his head slightly and rapped his finger on the aluminum tabletop. He quickly stood, and looked around the hall for the first time. His eyes spied his brother, alone, near the exit. Soon he would find his table had company.

Thanks for reading! I have future plans for this story, of course! In the meantime, constructive criticism is very welcome. I'll be doing some fanart to supplement this story as well, so if you want to stay tuned for that, please follow me on tumblr :D .com. OR Deviant art: .com. Feel free to request anything drawn related to this fanfic, so I can know what you guys want to see!