He was led to the small building with minimal conversation. The woman who had come to offer him the job hadn't said a word the entire trip, moving with an almost otherworldly grace across the uneven terrain. For as small as it had seemed on the horizon, it honestly didn't get much bigger, one story, made of brick and wood. The sign out front was simple, Shrike Weaponry, bearing the Eye of Horus between the words.
There were no signs in the front window, save for the daily hours, and the dark haired woman he was walking with opened the door and went inside. He followed, immediately catching the scent of hot metal, gun oil and saltpeter. There were guns of all shapes and sizes on the wall and in the cases, and there were a few other types of weapons as well, locked into place on the wall. A cork board behind the counter advertised sales and prices for the attached range, as well as shooting classes.
As the bell jingled, signaling movement of the door, an older woman looked up from the paperwork she was working on behind the counter, one visible eye roving over him, the other covered with silver hair and a beret pulled low. She made a contemplative sound, standing and walking over to him slowly, until she was nearly too close. Hanzo didn't know if this move was meant to intimidate him or if she was just unable to see too clearly anymore, but he didn't move, one hand still holding an arrow to his bowstring, the other still holding the bow itself.
"I am Ana. I see you decided to come." The woman, Ana, told him, eyes landing on his bow and arrow. "Relax child, we are not here to kill you."
"I have already pointed out that if we wanted to, we could have by now." His guide mentioned, examining her nails with a bland look. Fingers outstretched.
"Amélie!" Ana chastised, not without a fair bit of good humor, "We're attempting to hire him. Do not cause the boy any undue stress." She beckoned him to a closed door behind the counter, and he hesitated, figuring if they were going to kill him that would be the place to do it. He assumed she saw his hesitation, or felt it since her back was to him, "You may bring your weapon if it makes you feel better." She said, as if he was a small child carrying a stuffed pachimari toy.
He supposed, if her gray hair was anything to go by, he was.
However in his family the men had always started graying early, so that could not always be a good indicator of age. In fact, he was certain that he would be able to find gray hairs from all of the stress these past few years – were he to let his hair grow out again – and he was barely thirty. It was simply unfair.
He wrapped his fingers tighter around Stormbow, and followed Ana into the back room, head held high. Just because he was keeping his weapon didn't mean he was a child after all, only fools trusted someone so blindly after only a few minutes of knowing them, when their opening pitch was 'if we wanted to kill you we'd have done it already'.
It could have just meant they wanted to kill him slowly.
Ana watched him as she sat behind a desk with far too many papers for its size. They were all stacked neatly on the worktop with more in baskets on top of the filing cabinets.
"I don't know what you believe will come of this but I do not know how long I will be in the area." He told her, as soon as the door was shut behind him.
"We all have specters that we have run from at some point." Ana replied mildly, withdrawing forms from the pile.
"Your... associate said nearly the same thing to me." He told her, watching with narrowed eyes.
"Well Mr. Shimada, she was correct. Almost everyone in my employ has had some run in with rather... upsetting creatures." Hanzo froze at the use of his surname, fingers drawing the arrow back a scant few inches, dragons beginning to itch under his skin, crackling with unused powers.
"How do you know that name?" He asked, voice harsh and demanding. Ana just looked up at him, one visible eye bland as she slowly moved her hands to push back her hat and move the hair out of her covered eye. What he saw only barely avoided startling a gasp out of him. Her sclera was a mixture of silver and gold, swirling together in lazy twists, while the iris and pupil were black as night.
"I know things others do not. And I can see who you truly are, and know what you've done." She informed him, both eyes trained on him. "You will be safe from unpleasantness here should you choose to stay." She handed him a form and he took it with only a bit of hesitation, watching as she readjusted her hair and the beret. "Take some time to think about it if you would like. We are not going anywhere."
Hanzo took a step back, clutching the paper in his hand dumbly as he reached for the door, fumbling the knob open and backing through it, shutting the wooden door with slightly more force than necessary in his haste to put space between himself and the strange woman. Another step back had him crashing into the woman that he followed here, and he spun around, instinctively going to nock the paper covered arrow.
"You look like you have seen a ghost." The woman commented, bland expression turning into a smirk. "Or like Ana has told you she can see yours."
"How does she know what she knows?" He asked, voice demanding as he attempted to regain enough control to be properly intimidating.
She did not seem impressed, but that didn't stop her from answering.
"The only way you will know for certain is to ask her. But the rumors favor everything from her being psychic or having made a deal with the devil himself."
Making deals with the devil? Is that what he had done? He had summoned forth a demon, but were demons and the devil really two different things? If they granted you a boon in exchange for your soul, what was really the difference between Ana's eye and his brother's life?
Instantly his brain recalled the scent of brimstone and cigars, the sound of spurs and the heels of cowboy boots on stone flooring. A cowboy hat sitting low on the demon's head.
Was the one who made Ana's deal the same one who made his?
Was it the demon Jesse McCree?
He turned and pushed back into the office, finding Ana still seated at her desk, as if she had been waiting for him to return. If she knew as much as he assumed she did, she probably had been.
"Your eye. How did you..." He fumbled for a second, gesturing at her with the arrow and paper.
She had the gall to look amused, although he was sure he was quite a sight. He had almost been able to feel the color drain from his face when had said his last name.
"I do not tell that story to anyone who just happens to be recruited off the streets." She told him, nodding to the arrow wrapped paper in his hand. "If you would like to know, you must stay and find out."
Damn. Was that her plan all along? To recruit him through means of enticing him with information?
The way he saw it was he had two choices.
The first was to walk away and never return. Never get answers, never learn about what he signed up for, until it was too late. Keep running and moving from city to city, town to town, country to country.
The second, was to take a chance, sign the paper, and stay until he had answers or a reason to leave. If Ana knew more than she let on, which was highly likely, she'd know of his brother's fate. If the demon was successful, or if... if he himself was. A sour feeling knotted up his stomach even as a look of determination settled on his features, and he slammed the paper – and the arrow – down onto the desk. "I need a pen." He told her, not bothering to respond to her smug smile.
And so Hanzo began working for Shrike Weaponry. He, thankfully, wound up not working the desk, instead putting the Shimada Clan training to use in teaching marksmanship courses and overseeing the shooting range, allowing Amélie and Ana to handle things up front. During his down time he got to practice with Stormbow, to meditate, or to just relax and enjoy the day. He chose the first two options more frequently than the third.
Even so, it was a relief to be able to breathe again.
Which is why he expected it all to go to hell in a hand basket at some point. He just didn't figure it would come this soon.
A month and a half passed without incident, and Hanzo was on his way out from the empty range to see if there was any reason he couldn't go and take lunch, when he heard the jangle of spurs through the cracked door.
"Howdy Miss Amari." The demon said, tipping his hat as he approached the counter, leaning on it with one arm. Hanzo could see his eyes, his smile, all of it appearing human. "I heard a rumor that you've got yourself a real Japanese bowman workin' for ya. I was hopin' to get him to shoot with me sometime."
"I don't know what you're talking about." She replied, fixing her good eye on him, even as he smiled.
"I don' believe you, since it took me six months to learn you were hidin' this gorgeous gal in your office." He saw the demon turn, throwing his hands up as he shrugged, before leaning with his back to the counter, eyes grazing past the crack in the hallway door without lingering.
"I would not date you if you were the last man alive." Amélie told him, and Hanzo could hear her displeasure at being flirted with – most likely not for the first time – by the demonic cowboy.
"But if ya say you don't have 'im, then I'll have to keep lookin' I guess. Was hopin' to see who was the better shot."
"Move along Jesse. Unless you are going to buy anything?" Ana's voice stayed calm, and he could just barely make out the demon's silhouette as he went to walk away.
"I didn' bring my wallet. But if you put me down for some range time at two..."
"Yes, yes, fine. Just make sure you bring the required fee back with you or else I will not let you in."
"See ya then Miss Amari." He could almost imagine the tip of the cowboy's hat as he walked away, spurs jangling and the heels of those ridiculous boots clicking on the linoleum tile floors. The bell above the door jingled once, as the door was pulled open, and a second time as it shut, and the entirety of the shop was silent for several long moments, no doubt while the demon walked far enough away.
"My office if you would, Hanzo." He heard Ana say, and although her voice was soft, there was no room for argument or discussion. So just like that, he pushed open the hallway door, and walked around the counter.
He was convinced he would either be fired and allowed to run, or held and turned over to the demon.
Whatever his sentence, he was certain he deserved it.