Disclaimer: I do not own Overwatch
Wolves and Sparrows
My family tells of an ancient legend about two great dragon brothers. The dragon of the North Wind, and the dragon of the South Wind. Together they upheld balance and harmony in the heavens.
But my family is no more what it used to be, mere dregs compared to the empire that controlled the very shadows of the world.
The nights of Hanamura were quiet, save for the flickering of neon signs advertising the various stores and stalls that resided on the streets. It was to this silence that a figure dropped down in front of a worn-down ramen stall. The figure traced his fingers along the grooved wood before sneaking off towards the temple that was situated in the middle of the city. The front gate of the temple was locked, the door depicting a pair of dragons following each other in a neverending circle. the man touched the dragons and raised his hood, the snout of a grey-coloured wolf overshadowing the top half of the Asian man's face. He took a few steps back, before he took a running jump and nimbly climbed over the gate.
But the two brothers argued over who could better rule their land. Their quarrel turned to rage and their violent struggle darkened the skies, until the Dragon of the South Wind struck down his brother, who fell to earth, shattering the land.
The temple courtyard was serene, yet something was undoubtedly out of place. The area was guarded by men and omnics, patrolling in the black suits that betrayed their affiliation as the Shimada clan's enforcers. The man scoffed whilst he fingered the arrow he had drawn from the quiver on his back. He notched it and took aim at the omnic that was on the open part of the second floor of the heiden(offertory hall). Although his hatred for omnics had lessened during his travels around the globe, it seemed almost natural to eliminate the synthetic that had trespassed onto the sacred grounds.
The omnic was struck directly where his rank's processor was located, resulting in a shower of sparks. As the other guards were taken aback with this new development, the culprit was already rushing to the human closest to the robot, disarming then throwing him off the balcony. Another one was hit with the bow, the string pulling him into the intruder's grip as he was pulled and twisted onto the floor. The man desperately tried to get up, but the iron grip twisting his arm denied him any escape. Meanwhile the wolf-wearing man was picking off the other guards as they panicked, kunai hitting pressure points and delicate hardwire when the last man had the bright idea of calling for backup. As he removed the radio in his pocket, he fumbled, the radio bouncing like a hot potato as he tried to catch it.
The archer kicked the man he had been holding and notched another arrow, aiming at the last man who was running away. The arrow was released, piercing the handheld with remarkable accuracy. The loss of weight disoriented the runner, who hit the iron bell with his head, resulting in a dull 'dong' sounding through the temple.
The Dragon of the South Wind had triumphed, but as time passed and he realized his solitude. The sweetness of victory turned to ash.
The lone man slung his bow onto his back, then dropped down to the ground. He then took his time crossing the courtyard of the temple, glancing around as if he were comparing its present appearance with his past memories.
The castle was devoid of life, further emphasized by the open tatami floor in the centre. At the end of the room hung a banner with the bottom right corner sliced through, the white of the traditional paper splattered with age old blood. In front of it stood a sword rack that displayed a chipped katana, left exactly the same as the day it had been placed there.
For years the bereft Dragon's grief threw the world into discord and he knew only bitterness and sorrow. One day a stranger called up to the Dragon and asked "Oh, Dragon Lord, why are you so distraught?" The dragon told him "Seeking power I killed my brother, but without him, I am lost." The stranger replied "You have inflicted wounds upon yourself, but now you must heal. Walk the earth on two feet as I do. Find value in humility, then you will find peace."
The hooded figure crossed the room and knelt, his bow on the floor to his left. He removed the wolf pelt from his head, showing the tan face of one Shimada Hanzo, the former heir to the Shimada Clan. Hanzo lit three sticks of incense, placing each into the ash pot tenderly, as if he were putting down a sleeping baby. The pot was joined by a cup of sake and a single feather. He clapped his hands together and bowed his head, repeating his annual ritual for the 13th year.
Author's Note: As stated in the summary this was created after I got Hanzo's and Genji's legendary skins. Most shinobi games have their ninja have a spirit animal that their techniques are based on. I used that as a motive to make a short story on how the brothers' reunion would have been like if they had both completely forsaken the Shimada clan and moved on(mostly anyway).
This will probably be a two shot, and won't feature in any of my other stories.
Please enjoy, and please review!