II

Genji was good at tuning out background noise. Hadn't always been, but after all the time he'd spent with Zenyatta it came almost naturally. As such he'd been able to ignore the comm in his suit for the most part, listening only for words like 'hurt' or his name in the chaos that had been streaming to his ear. From what little he'd gathered, Reaper had been the only other Talon member present. Hanzo was likely there to pick off guards while the other meant to slip inside as the dark cloud he could turn himself to and get the information.

Without Hanzo's cover and with three Overwatch agents after him, that plan was somewhat unlikely to succeed. The others were waiting outside the enormous, castle-like wall with the smaller doorway into the village area. McCree was leaning against a wall facing the square opening, his hat low to keep out the sun and a cigar in his hand, though by the way Mercy was looking, he'd been forbidden to smoke it, probably by some sassy but practical comment on the doctor's part. Tracer was sitting at the feet of one of the colossal statues depicting the jackal-headed Anubis, her hands on her ankles.

Whatever lecture Mercy had been giving was interrupted by Tracer. "Genji, you caught the sniper! We were wondering where you went."

"If he's a prisoner then what in tarnation is he still doing with that bow of his?" McCree asked, returning the cigar to its pouch in favor of resting his hand on his revolver.

"He is not a prisoner." Genji said firmly, glancing back at his brother, who looked cool, proud, and indifferent, his eyes narrowed at all assembled against the sun as he took whatever information he sought in. "He is my brother. I have convinced him to come with us."

There were three separate and different reactions from the Overwatch agents. "You never told me you had a brother!" Was Tracer's, hopping up onto her feet with a grin.

McCree looked practically scandalized. "Your brother is the one that shot my damn leg!?"

Mercy, anticipating their simultaneous outbursts, waited a moment and addressed Hanzo directly. "Nice to finally meet you, Hanzo." She smiled and extended a hand. "I am Doctor Angela Ziegler. I've seen your work before. It's pushed me to do some of the best of mine."

Genji noticed the nuance in her tone. She was being passive-aggressive, clearly holding it against the archer that Genji had been brought to her at a point of intended-death by Hanzo's hands.

Hanzo either disreguarded or was oblivious to the slight, ignoring her hand in favor of a stiff and small bow, more of a nod. Unfaltering in his silence, his impression was antisocial at best.

Tracer stepped nimbly around Mercy and grinned, mimicking the bow, though with more exaggeration. "I see the resemblance." She said, tilting her head with a smile. "Genji used to act just like you. All gruff and edgy." She deepened her voice for the last bit and folded her arms with a pout. "No worries, though. Glad to have you on-board! Hanzo, right?"

"Yes." Hanzo nodded to her, though his eyes were over her shoulder on McCree, who was talking to Genji in a hushed tone.

"My codename's Tracer, but you can call me Lena." She winked playfully. "You met Mercy, and that's McCree. Ship's this way, we'll be taking off soon."

Hanzo nodded. "I understand. Thank you..."

"No worries, love. Let me know if you need anything." Tracer saluted him with two fingers, then blinked out of sight, reappearing several feet away next to Genji and McCree. "He seems nice." She remarked to Genji.

"Really? He seemed like a bit of an ass to me." McCree scoffed, glancing at Genji. "No offense."

"You're just mad you got hit." Tracer teased.

"May be more mad I didn't get the chance to hit back."

"Challenge him to some table tennis later." Tracer giggled.

Genji chuckled as well. "I can only see that ending poorly." He shook his head. "But it would be entertaining."

"Suppose I should introduce myself." McCree sighed and slid away from others. Mercy was sitting at the base of one of the Anubis monoliths, a pocket edition of some German classic in her hand. McCree plopped down next to her and started talking to Hanzo.

"Must be nice to have your brother back." Tracer put her hand on Genji's shoulder, grinning.

"Yes..." Genji sighed. "It is. But Hanzo has not had a change of heart. He's had a change of plans."

Tracer's expression fell and her shoulders slumped. "You mean you don't trust him?"

"Think of the person you know best in the world... would you not be able to tell? Hanzo is proud and stubborn, he would not have given in so easily had he not seen some benefit to playing along. Please let the others know not to trust him with sensitive information."

"Sure thing, Genji... I'm sure he'll come around." Tracer smiled and patted his shoulder before she zipped away.

The next few days were strange for Hanzo, with a lot more human interaction than he was used to. Searched, then practically interrogated by a furious older man he still wasn't sure the name of but that seemed to be in charge, shown around a massive base, introduced to at least five more people that seemed to come and go quickly by the day, and given a sparse but moderately sized room of his own, Hanzo didn't know what to do with himself. Not trusted with missions and with no one to train him yet, he mostly spent his time alone contemplating things or out wandering.

Most other agents stayed out of his way or greeted him with the minimum to be considered polite. Some girl calling herself a diva did what he interpreted as intimidating/trying to establish dominance over him entirely in gamers' terms(some of them in Korean?) he didn't even pretend to understand. A few were more friendly than that. A sentient gorilla he was almost certain was named Winston invited the archer into his workspace for some peace from the few others that tried to force company. Hanzo learned Winston was a scientist and looked around the lab with some curiosity while the gorilla worked, offering answers to the few questions Hanzo asked and otherwise leaving the archer to himself, the one thing a certain someone else didn't seem to do.

Lena spent the most time around him, inviting him to all manner of games, competitions, and food places any of the Overwatch crew seemed to go to. He assumed out of good intent, though the sound of her zipping into existence behind him soon became a thing of annoyance, as none of the social activities ever sounded remotely appealing to him.

McCree also provided invitations, though far less frequently and mostly to bars, which Hanzo agreed to only twice. The cowboy was either sad or overly flirty with any of the women in the bar, and it didn't sit well with the archer to babysit

The other person he'd met on the first day, Mercy, was never around and he was glad for it. Being a doctor she was always in the medical wing or on missions.

Asides from that he'd met a massive German man that seemed kind and old, but loud and not entirely trusting, the silver-haired man that yelled at Genji for bringing Hanzo when they first arrived, and a very short and defensive man overly interested in turrets.

Genji was away most of the time, so Hanzo didn't have to worry about avoiding the cyborg much, which was fine with him.

He was gathering information bit by bit, patient enough to wait to plan and make his move. Talon had payed huge money to him as a mercenary assassin, they'd pay more for the intimate details of Overwatch's headquarters. He was largely unimpressed, the agents were just as much a mismatched group of idealists as they looked, not near as formidable as the group once was during the omnic crisis.

So on it went for over a week, Hanzo seemed to speak less than enough to fill a paragraph the entire time, until the day he met Zenyatta.

The monk was just... floating down the hall like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was an omnic, dressed in loose, traditional, appropriately monkish clothing Hanzo knew belonged to the band of peace-seeking omnics he'd heard mention of in passing.

Hanzo believed they would pass each other without interaction when the omnic spoke, his serene-looking face turned to the archer. "Peace be upon you. You must be Hanzo, the resemblance to your brother is clear."

A comparison to the cyborg was not what Hanzo had been expecting, and a snarl was on his lips at once. "There is no way you could form such a conclusion from such a disfigured face."

"It is not my student's face I compare to you, but his soul. You carry sadness in the same way." Unassuming and still, hands gently steepled, the robot seemed unfazed by Hanzo's clear irritation as he went on. "My name is Zenyatta. You should join me someday. I have set aside a space here for meditation and reflection, you would be welcome."

"I don't think so, omnic. If I desire to meditate, I shall create my own place for it."

"You must choose your own path. However, you are still welcome to join me at any time, Hanzo. May the Iris soothe your woes." The monk's head tilted, as if in sincerity, before he drifted on past a bewildered Hanzo.

That was not the strangest invitation Hanzo got his second week either. Lena had come to him, of all people, in a breathless huff with begging eyes. "Hanzo! Do you know anything about baking?" She'd asked as urgently as if it were a life-and-death assignment from the silver-haired soldier running the place.

Stunned but the abrupt and random question, Hanzo shook his head. "No. Nothing."

"Oh... that's too bad. I'd hoped... well, would you mind helping me out anyway? Please?" Lena grinned sheepishly and tilted her head. "Everyone else is busy or out, except for Zen, but I didn't want to interrupt him..."

The last several days having been utterly uneventful, Hanzo was actually willing to consider the errand, though his voice was just as gruff and disinterested as ever. "What exactly are you asking of me?"

"Well, I'm set to travel back home in a few hours and I really, really need to bring a pie back with me." She explained. "I promised Emily I'd make one for her birthday..." Hanzo had no idea, nor did he care, who Emily was. "But I don't have any of the ingredients yet and I've never really baked before. I'd really appreciate some company and a second opinion." At the heart of it, she looked at Hanzo hopefully, a genuine smile on her features. "Plus, you've been so quiet and gloomy. It would get you outside, and I'd love to get to know you more!"

Hanzo stared back, his eyes narrowed. Without his heavy coat he wore a practical hoodless jacket, black, with his hair still up asides the few locks he left over his face. He sighed, considering his boredom and growing restlessness. "You'd gain little from knowing me, but if there's truly no one else, I will go."

"That's the spirit! Well, not quite, but I'll take what I can get." Lena grinned. "Thanks a ton, love. I know you don't do people much."

"Do you at least have a recipe to work with?" Hanzo asked, not caring to delve into his introverted tendencies.

Tracer started checking pockets, taking the transition in stride. "I do, yeah. Just a moment."

On the way to the store Hanzo learned that Emily was Lena's partner of almost 2 years, that the agent's favorite music genre was punk, that she had been a pilot, and that she liked the color yellow. He didn't ask for any of the information, but with his usual minimalistic approach to speaking Tracer picked up the slack with a smile.

They split up the list of ingredients and tacked the store half and half, Hanzo getting done considerable more quickly and efficiently, with far fewer extra items. Lena had even grabbed a cart, though the items could have fit easily into a basket like the one Hanzo had grabbed.

Looking over the extra things in her cart, Hanzo noticed and extracted a bright green bag covered in Japanese with a large picture of a melon taking up most of the space on it. "Can you even read any of this?" He asked doubtfully.

"Nope! Not really, but I know it's candy. Genji always asks for them them." She explained. "I can grab you some too, if you'd like! There were other flavors. Strawberry and mango and... well there were a lot."

"No." Hanzo dropped the bag back in, looking at the candy as if it had bitten him. "I don't waste my time with candy."

"Oh, I see." Lena said with exaggerated sincerity, barely holding back a grin. "Too adult for candy. No worries, I think we have some coffee as black and bitter as your soul at the base."

"I prefer tea."

"Now that I can help you with." Lena grinned. "We have loads of tea from all over the world. C'mon, let's get checked out, unless you need anything else?"

"Nothing." Hanzo quickly surveyed all the lines and self-checkout kiosks, choosing the one with the shortest wait easily and leading her over to it. "I hope you don't expect me to pay for these..."

When they got back the actual pie-making went better than Hanzo expected. Lena did most of the work, Hanzo just reading the instructions carefully and correcting her as he saw fit.

It went well until the pie was in the oven and Lena, attempting to put a heavy sack of flour on a high shelf, accidentally let it sleep through her hands, the flour falling to the floor and exploding into a cloud across the kitchen.

Hanzo, having been standing behind her, took a face-full of the stuff and started coughing heavily, his lungs stinging sharply at the unwelcome baking ingredient.

"I'm so sorry, Hanzo!" Lena gasped, turning around and surveying the damage. After a moment of hesitation she blinked over at one of the cupboards and grabbed a glass, filling it with water and actually walking back to him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he continued coughing despite his best efforts. Lena held the glass until he was actually able to sip at it and she passed the glass over readily.

"I really didn't mean to..." she said quietly, her hand shifted down to his arm. "Are you alright, Hanzo?"

"I am fine." He managed, his voice a bit rough from soreness rather than his usual irritation. "I'm surprised nothing similar happened earlier."

"You're not mad are you?"

Hanzo looked at her, his face completely straight. "Your assassination attempt was too pitiful for me to be anything anything but indifferent."

"Assassina- what? Hanzo, no! I would never-" Lena cut off, noticing the small smirk on his lips. "Oh... you were kidding?" She asked, hopeful.

"Yes. It was clearly an accident. But an inconvenient one." Hanzo sighed, brushing a bit of the flour off his black shirt, though he gave up very quickly and took a slow sip of the water instead. "I dislike washing my clothes more than necessary, it seems there's always someone else that feels the need to occupy the room at the same time as me."

"I'm sorry, love. It's a public area. Not many ways to get around it." Lena patted his shirt a few times half-heartedly, getting only a tiny bit of the flour off. "I bet if you glared hard enough it would scare most of them away."

The timer for the oven beeped and Lena started, turning around. "Better get that..."

"I shall get a broom."

Thanks for reading! Please leave feedback, critical or kind. The more detail the better I can improve my writing!

Chapters will probably continue to be short, as this is a side hobby I do with spare time at work or on the bus.