"Unseen: Prelude"

Hanzo Shimada sank slowly into the steaming waters of the Myoushin Temple baths. Among the many temples he had patronized over the years all over Honshuu, he found the replenishing waters here most favorable. He was alone in the night with only shafts of moonlight peering in through a few square, open windows; the beams interrupted by the uneven vertical slats. Nothing but the soft , chiming echoes of falling water droplets could be heard in between the light, sloshing sounds made by his intermittent movement. He laid his head back on the small, folded towel he had placed there and closed his eyes. Moments like this were few and far between for him, so he relished it all the more.

His body felt heavier as he relaxed in the wide, wooden tub. His muscles were unwinding and the soreness he had felt for the past few days seemed to be evaporating like so much steam. Moving around as much as he did these days, there wasn't much comfort to be afforded him. If he wasn't fighting, he was constantly training, never allowing his body or mind to be unprepared. After a few days, he would move to another location, another temple. Someone was always looking for him, he knew...remnants of his past trying to catch him unaware. He wanted nothing to do with it. But there were times when he sought after it, albeit unwillingly. It was only a short time ago that he returned to Hanamura once more; to his home, to remember once again. To atone. But that which he thought was lost had found him instead. Genji had appeared before his very eyes. At least someone who sounded like his brother, but contorted and invaded by metal. Hanzo had looked straight into his eyes as Genji's visor raised and helm lowered. It was him, unmistakably. He'd recognize his brother's eyes anywhere. After all, they had followed him, haunted him, ever since that day; the day he thought he put his brother down and his own life, in a way, had also ended.

What has become of you...my brother? he thought to himself and sighed. His mind slowly headed in the direction he least wanted but knew he couldn't help but go: Had his actions ultimately made his brother into the creature he was now? The blood on his hands that he had tried to wash away over the years seemed to be doubly staining. As he let out his breath, he felt that familiar tingling at the base of his neck. A presence somewhere. Had Genji come to him again? How would their reunion play out this time?

He opened his eyes and slowly raised his head, his neck and jaw line stiffening in the process. The intruder already knew Hanzo's location, no need to be stealthy, he thought. Unabashedly, he stood up in the tub, the water sliding off his taut frame and cooling his skin where it left him. He grabbed his robe. Regardless of how comfortable he felt in any given place, his bow and quiver would never be more than an arm's length away. This occasion was no different. He casually tied his robe on and reached for his weapon.

"Make yourself known," said Hanzo, into the night, in nothing louder than a calm, conversational manner.

There was no response. Though his eyes had adjusted well to the darkness by now, there wasn't much to see but the jet-black shadows that hung about the hallway and the adjacent room beyond, which could be seen through the open shoji doors.

"Then I will make you known," he said under his breath and quickly fired off a sonic arrow, landing in the center of the adjacent room.

There, in the far corner, a hooded figure was revealed, crouched and unmoving. Once an assassin's position was found out, they would usually attempt to escape or the attack would soon follow. But this figure continued to sit still, staring forward.

"Lucky," came a low voice from the corner.

At those words, Hanzo knocked another arrow and drew it in a blink. The stillness of the stranger unnerved him in other ways than would any hired killers that had been sent after him previously.

"My actions are not determined by luck," countered Hanzo, arrow still steadily drawn, "Now, tell me who you are."

"I meant lucky for me, not for you."

"Enough!" he cried as he let the arrow loose.

Just as immediately, a brilliant yellow light surged out and encircled the stranger. Hanzo's arrow hit the domed wall of light, pinged off, and fell to the ground. The light faded. Hanzo had followed the flight of his arrow as soon as he released it and by the time it had clattered onto the mat, he was point-blank pointing another arrow in the stranger's face. It did not escape his notice that the hooded figure had clasped the Pyo Kuji-in when the shield appeared. This was not unfamiliar to Hanzo. In their youth, both he and his brother learned the ways of meditation and energy flow through the use of these hand seals, with Genji progressing further with it in his ninja training. But he had never seen it used for this purpose.

"I mean you no harm," said the stranger, this time in a lighter voice.

"Take off your hood," he replied, straight and serious.

"You are still so demanding, Hanzo-kun."

No one had called him that in what seemed like decades. For just a moment his breath caught in his throat but his bow's aim didn't waver. His mind quickly searched through his memories and found the image of a young child under a tree, facing away, standing in his family's private courtyard; her long black hair swaying in the light breeze.

"Can it be that you remember...?" she asked, surprised, as she slowly pushed the hood of her robe back and off of her head, letting it softly fall and rest on her shoulders.

She clasped her hands again into another seal and from her chest a diffused, soft light emerged to illuminate her. Long hair, white as snow, was tied back in a braid, her lightly tanned face turned up to look at Hanzo fully, and her eyes, those eyes...how could he ever forget them? They were at once beautiful and terrifying.

"Rin...?" he found himself saying, almost inaudibly.

She smiled. "You do remember."