Title: Psyche & 雀
Author: Ri-Ryn
Genre: Supernatural/Angst/Horror
Word Count: 747
Rating: M* (Content suitable for Mature Teens)
Disclaimer: Overwatch belongs to Blizzard Entertainment.
Summary: Hanzo's psyche resembled young Genji after killing the aforementioned but crueler, manipulative. Ten years later he adds another Genji, this one covered in metal – urging forgiveness. The young sparrow hates this new upset; Hanzo had been his for the past decade and now the should-be-dead was encroaching. Repugnant.
Warnings: Blood/Gore. Severe Language. Depression. Mental Instability and Mental Health Issues. Literal physical manifestation of Mental Illness. A step past split personality/dissociation.
A/N: I'm really curious if anyone can ascertain the meaning of the chapter title. It will explain quite a bit until I finish chapter 2 – if you haven't guessed from the summary yet. Dialogue in brackets indicates Japanese.
Chapter 1: The Gray Shrike is a Songbird
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The castle was dead. Bodies of guards, a mix between the killed and the comatose with no pattern offered than whim, lined the patrol routes. Genji was not quite sure what went through Hanzo's head, coming here the past decade, but this surpassed potentially troubling.
It was principally unchanged, the family dojo. The tapestry remained damaged and hung, splattered with dragon blood. Hanzo was seiza, a sparrow feather residing by the genteelly burning incense. Genji cocked his head, the inside far from the perturbed quiet outside. His brother was murmuring, consistently with a one-sided conversation in Japanese.
"[I know they are here, Sparrow.]" Hanzo turned unperturbed to Genji, leaving the bow to his side untouched much less motioned. It was unexpected: Hanzo lived in a state of saturated awareness – a perpetual tension.
"You are not the first assassin sent to kill me, nor will you be the last. However, Genji wishes that I stay my hands for now."
Genji is right here. I'm Shimada Genji. The cyberized man drew away slightly, perhaps his death had done more damage unseen than he thought. He relaxed from his position, choosing to sit across from the other on the polished floor. Genji reached for the mask backing, releasing and removing his visor. "While I do not contend this, Anija, I believe I am here right now."
Hanzo inhaled sharply; ignoring the skin now gone. "[I see.]" Other than the initial flinch, he remained passive.
Genji raised a put off eyebrow. "You seem unsurprised to see me, Anija. It has been ten years but my bearing seems no different than yesterday."
"Brother," the archer interjected, "not Anija." The sparrow hated that, abhorred the term from anyone else.
"Of course." Genji muttered. "And my re-emergence, a decade later?"
"What," Hanzo dragged the question out harshly, dry, "is one more Genji hounding me?"
What? Another? Who has been impersonating me to Hanzo for so many years? Genji chewed his lip. This was an addressment for a later time. "I want you to join me, Brother, in Overwatch. You have spent so many years here with a desire to repent, shamed. Join me and-"
"[Well, what do you want me to do, Genji?]"
He exhaled. "It is your decision, Hanzo." His brother coughed heavily, choked.
Hanzo ignored him, completely enraptured with the space to his left, eyes tracking nothing. "Brother." Hanzo continued to ignore him. "Anija!" Genji meant to be patient, tell the elder to contemplate with all the time that he required. Instead, Hanzo's lips curled, displeased and accompanied by another wet cough.
"I warned you, Genji, to cease calling me that."
It burned, being told with naught but acid, but perhaps the damage still stung after what they had both done to harm each other. Hanzo needed time to be able to heal, more time than that spent isolated and without guidance or a kind word, and Genji accepted that. He understood better than preferred the obvious shattering of Hanzo.
The wind played with the gray of Hanzo's temple, against skin set and pale in essence of sickness. "I will go because you both want me to, Genji."
No, no I do not. I want you to decide without coercion or your tainted sense of duty. "Hanzo, brother, take time and consider my words with care."
The other rose, Genji unable to hide the barest flinch.
"Consider." Hanzo bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the marred tissue inside give way to his teeth like habit – looking like his thoracic, abdominal, and pelvic cavities. "Consideration expired long ago. I will crawl where the sparrow sings."
Feet of metal made no noise as the former heir collected Stormbow and began to leave.
"Gibraltar." There was no doubt the assassin would find his way there. "Overwatch has recalled to watchpoint in Gibraltar."
.
.
Watch-point Gibraltar was cold, gray with nature taking its course as with anything humans abandoned, taking and deconstructing it. Ivy climbed the walls, dirt and sun damage distorted the metal shell and it still resembled a grave.
Hanzo was wearied, eyeing the ominous structure and sharing in its convicted acuity.
This building was not finished witnessing the worst flesh and blood could offer.
Hands, poisonous, cold, familiar, found purchase. "I don't like it here, Anija." Green hair shortly cropped nestled itself underneath his jaw, altogether less cumbersome than the talon prodding at the knots of his spine.
"And yet I do anything asked of me by you, Genji." He advanced towards the mausoleum.
II:
Mocking Birds Drink Wine
