Revised on the 16th of November 2017
Hi guys, PoeticPillock, here! I don't know what it was about this chapter, but it took much longer to write than it should have. Sorry for the delay, everyone. Hope you enjoy!
Update: Well, this is embarrassing. Some pieces of text are in here that I forgot to edit out. Sorry about that.
400 kilometers and counting West of Tokyo, Japan
2076
A sleek, cloud-white train shot across a rail at high speeds, weaving through what might as well be a concrete jungle. The city was massive, expansive, and bustling with life. Such traits seemed to be expected for the country it was built in. It wasn't even the largest city, but good luck to anyone foolish enough to travel the entire thing on foot. It was the daytime, but there was no doubt that the municipality could easily blot out the starry night when the time came. However, even with a metropolitan population numbering in the millions, larger than some countries, the inside of the local train was rather quiet and peaceful. Most of the occupants simply taking the public transit for something as mundane as work. Two occupants, however, would be utilizing the fast train for travel. It wasn't entirely for pleasure, but one of them was able to afford first class for them both.
Nathan sat in his seat, his head slumped over with closed eyes, as the train was smooth enough of a ride to not even rock him slightly in his sleep. He was like that for most of the ride, until he felt someone nudge his left side and started to stir himself awake. Groaning, he sat up and began to rub the sleep out of his eyes. His vision clearing, he looked around the cabin to see the sleek, stylish interior of first-class, feeling the fine leather upholstery on his chair.
"You mumble in your sleep."
Nathan looked to his left and saw Hana occupying the window seat, her eyes glued to some type of pink device she held in both her hands. It was like one of those "laptop" computers he's seen, except there were screens on both halves with buttons on the bottom half. The kid was wearing a blue pullover hoodie and a pair of black skinny jeans. The hood draped over her head was accompanied by a blue baseball cap with a logo that looked like a stylized "Z" outlined with the blue and red colors, the word "fighting" in white and stylized below it. Hana made it an effort to conceal herself. Nathan just opted for a shirt and jeans.
"Yeah," he responded, digging his eyes into his palms. "Are we there, yet?"
"Close," she responded, pursing her lips before a pink bubble slowly expanded from her mouth and eventually popped, then going back to chewing.
Brin leaned forward and peered into the window on her side. Everything they passed by was so in a blur, not able to distinguish anything other than the brief flashes of color. Only things in the distance were discernable. He was a bit in awe of how something this large and carrying this many people could move at such a rapid pace, but trains weren't a new concept to him. At least it was very clean and the leather wasn't rotting away for over two centuries. However, things outside started slowing down and he could feel the train's momentum shift, even if it was slight. The train's intercom announced something in Japanese that he obviously didn't understand, but the Korean tourist next to him did.
"We're here," she stated, putting her game device away and getting up from her seat to stretch.
Nathan didn't say a word as he got up from his seat and began to gather their things, hoisting a duffle bag over his shoulder. Hana hoisted a backpack over hers, eyes now glued to her pink phone. When the train finally stopped and opened the doors, all the passengers filed out and onto the station, before walking further into the city. The two eventually found made their way down to the city streets, where the Waster got another glimpse of the dense city life on foot.
'Damn,' he thought, noticing the sheer volume of people all moving about. Many of the buildings grew high to the sky and were covered in a sheer amount of colorful lights, colorful signs, and colorful posters. Streetlights only helped add to the glare, even in the day. The people were as numerous, and milled about this block of the city of their own volition and didn't pay any heed to anything else other than getting to their destination. Well, not entirely, as the six-foot-six man standing on the sidewalk garnered a few looks and glances from pedestrians, as he practically towered over everyone in that block. 'And I stand out like an albino Deathclaw. Great.'
As the Californian stood there, noticing how short the population of Japan seemed, he felt something wrap around his left arm and – slightly shaken – looked down to see it was Hana who had her hand wrapped around his bicep but was still looking down at her phone, nonchalantly.
"What are you doing?" Nathan questioned, glaring at her.
"Someone needs to make sure you don't get lost in the city," Hana responded, not moving her gaze from the phone. "You're used to wandering deserts, but I don't know how you'll handle this."
"I can handle it just fine, kid."
"If you can, then you should know the first rule to being in a city is to not stand idly in the middle of the sidewalk. You know, where all the people are walking on? It's kinda rude."
Just as the Korean explained that intricacy to urban life, someone bumped into Nathan and kept walking away. He couldn't see their face before another person bumped into him again, and he looked to see a crowd going around them in the limited space they had to maneuver. Like a river going around a rock. Some of their expressions didn't seem pleased.
"Fine, I see your point," the wanderer conceded. "Get us the hell out of here."
"With pleasure," she said, a slight smirk crawling on her face as she began tugging on his arm and guide him through the crowd. "I called up a cab, so we shouldn't be here long."
"Great."
As they maneuvered through the sidewalk, slower than he would've liked as the shorter person was the one setting the pace, the Wastelander got to see more of the city. See more of all the people and all the buildings that surrounded him, whether they be shops, hotels, restaurants, or whatever little business found its place on the block. All of them decorated in a colorful fashion, making them stand out from the rest of the concrete. It wasn't dusty like Giza, old like London, or obscenely space-age as Oasis or Numbani. It just felt like a modern city. Or, whatever counted as "modern" here. Not to mention, delightfully clean.
After being dragged a couple of blocks by the kid, certainly showing she was more experienced in the dense city life than he was, they finally reached the cab she had summoned. Putting their luggage in the trunk before filing into the backseat. As they both got in, the driver in the car – an Omnic – turned around to face the two.
"Doko e?" the driver asked.
"Hanamura, dōzo," Hana responded in Japanese.
"Tashika ni, misu," the driver said, bowing his head slightly before facing the wheel.
The floating car began to pull out from the curb and onto the street. Hana pulled the hood down and took the cap off from her hair, which was tied into a brown bun until she pulled out a tie and let it fall beneath her shoulders. The long-haired brunette let out a breath of relief as she plopped down onto the seat and brought her phone up to her face. Nathan, sitting next to her, made a curious glance at her but didn't say anything else as he looked out onto the window. However, after a silent minute had passed, he decided to open his mouth.
"So, what are we doing once we get there?" the Courier asked, peering to her right.
"Huh?" the Gamer let out, turning to look at him. "You don't know?"
Song frown and sat up from her seat to address him. If there was one thing they didn't need in a mission, it's someone who was unaware of the plan. Crossing her arms over her chest and kept frowning at him. Nathan frowned back.
"What?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes at her.
"You didn't pay attention to the briefing, did you?" Hana questioned, tilting her head at him.
"Maybe. I didn't have my coffee that morning."
The Mech Pilot's eyes rolled back. Afraid something like this was going to happen but should've seen it sooner from him seeing how rogue the Waster could get at times with the rest of Overwatch. Things were simple when people knew what roles to take and how to do them. She learned this in the early days of her gaming career and having it hammered into her head during her time in the MEKA and eventually Overwatch. How else would she succeed on the field, both in the virtual and real world? Certainly, he would know that, right? Or, was he still salty about the uniform thing?
"Well, if you need a refresher, since I know you're getting up there in age…" she said, making the forty-year-old cast a glare at her. "We're going to Hanamura because I have a show there."
"Wait, a show? Like a concert?" Nathan asked, confused at what kind of show she would be at.
"Not exactly like a concert. Like, I do perform in front of a bunch of fans and interact with them, and there is loud music and lights and stuff. But instead of singing, I play games in front of them or with them."
"Wait, games as in video games?"
"Yeah."
"And that's what the concert is? They watch you play games?"
"Yeeaaah…"
"…But why?"
That question surprised the Pro-Gamer, raising an eyebrow at him. Until remembering who she was talking to. Hana barely knew anything about his world even after months of being stuck in the same base with him. Anyone, including her, would just chalk that up to Nathan being a recluse most of the time, but even after a few months, it seemed a bit excessive how closeted he has been in that span of time. Thinking about it, Bastion and Dr. Ziegler were probably the ones with the most knowledge of his home she could talk to. Angela might be a bit reserved about divulging information for Nathan's sake and Bastion was, obviously, lacking in speaking capabilities. Still, it made her wonder if his world was anything like those old Role-Playing game. Hana might be breaking new ground, she hoped.
"Do you not have games where you're from?" Hana asked, with newfound interest and seeing if she was onto something.
"We do, but I've never thought they would warrant a literal audience to watch someone play," Nathan answered honestly about his home.
"What kind of games did you play?" the young woman questioned.
"Just these old holotape games I would play on the terminal when I put the cartridge in them. That was years ago, though. When I was a little kid."
"Wait… Cartridges?!"
Hana's mind started to race as soon as he uttered that word, her head flooding with memories of looking up books and web pages about the infant days of gaming. How big and clunky the earliest systems and the games they played were. How everything was basically a plastic box with art slapped onto it. Stuff that her grandparents or even her great-grandparents would've enjoyed. Now, as if being ignited with the flame of discovery, she wanted to know more about the industry in his world. To see if the games they played were anything like those pixelated classics. Too bad they still had a mission and Nathan was quick to remind her.
"Yeah…" he confirmed, noting her odd reaction to that word before shaking his head. "Okay, we're getting off topic! So, why specifically are we going to this 'concert' of yours?"
"Oh, uh…" the young agent glances at their taxi driver, careful about what else they were going to say. "Some of the people that are going to be attending the live event will be people my agency would like to speak to."
"Really? They're into that sort of thing?"
"Uh-huh. A lot of people here are."
"So, can we expect to meet our friend there, too? Haven't heard back from him in a while."
"He should make it there, fine."
"Yeah…"
The older man slumped back into his seat and took a deep breath in and out, before closing his eyes and feeling himself drift into sleep again. Someone like him would've never known that constantly traveling by air had such a toll. That was probably a benefit to wandering everywhere – not having to constantly adjust his sleeping schedule.
Hana kept staring at him recline into his chair, wondering how she got stuck on a mission with him. Wondering how he pulled off earlier missions if this is what she saw. This was the first time she's been on a mission of this type with him, only ever seeing him in full-on combat. Where things were simpler. The Mech Pilot wondered how the others did it.
"So…" she goes, making the man next to her look. "Is there anything else you can tell me about games from your home?"
Nathan perks an eyebrow at her. Hana has a look in her eyes as if she was genuinely curious about that aspect of his world. Certainly, wasn't the one he was expecting to be asked about by anyone in Overwatch, barring her. It was harmless enough.
"I guess," he responds, closing his eyes again. "Whatch'ya wanna know?"
He didn't see it, but Hana's lips stretched into a slight smile as questions began forming in her head.
More than half-an-hour later, their cab had finally brought them to their destination, finding themselves in the little village of Hanamura. They walked out into the streets of the quaint looking village to reach the destination Hana was mentioning ever since landing in Japan: The Arcade. It wasn't the first arcade he's been inside, but it was the first fully-intact one he was inside. Complete with glowing game-cabinets, neon lights, prize machines, and lots of noise. Though, it was completely empty for some reason, save for the two newest occupants.
"So, this is what it looks like?" Nathan asked largely to himself, walking around the floor of the brightly lit establishment a little nauseated by the flashing displays. "Heh, I doubt Gannon would like this place."
"Hmm?" Hana let out, thinking she heard something familiar.
"Nothing," he quickly dismissed, sitting on a stool at one of the cabinets. "So, we're here. Now what?"
"Now we use this arcade to stage the concert, attract some unknowing bad guys, bag 'em, and save the day!"
She summed up the mission with a prideful tone, smiling ear-to-ear and standing tall, as if this was the best plan anyone could've formulated and that it would go without a hitch. This stellar plan only made Nathan frown more, mainly with how barebones her explanation was – lacking some much-needed elaboration. At least the kid was confident, but he wasn't sure he'd want to give her credit for being headstrong. Had to remind himself that Hana is, literally, less than half his age. Only glad she wasn't a couple of years younger.
"Right," Nathan started, crossing his arms. "And when you're doing your thing, I'm going to be off to the sidelines as a bodyguard… Again… But, what about Shimada? Where does he fit into all of this? I haven't even seen him since we landed in his home country."
"Good."
That voice echoed above the two, and they looked up to see a collection of green lights hovering two stories above them, close to the huge poster that had Hana in her bodysuit and giving a self-assured wink. The silver silhouette of a Cybernetic Ninja above them.
"You know the best places to host a show, Song," Genji complimented, examining the huge poster.
"Really?!" Hana let out, enthused enough for Nathan to notice her reaction.
"Yes," the Ninja responded sincerely, before jumping down in front of them, light-footed as a cat. "I have many memories here from my misspent youth. It may do some actual good, now, with our presence."
"Where've you been?" Nathan asks, leaning on his knees.
"Keeping an eye on things, at home," Genji explained. "I'm sure you saw the castle with the huge wooden gate in the front, very close to here? That used to be my home."
"Really? Why 'used to'?"
Genji regarded Nathan for a couple of moments before taking the scabbards off his back and resting them against the side of a cabinet
"My clan was a crime family," Genji explained, sitting on a stool. "Profiting off illicit trades and fortunes. I don't want to bore you with a history lesson as we have a job to do, but after my father's passing, the clan elders ordered that I be killed for being a supposed 'liability' to the family business. That is why I am largely metal, today."
"Shit," Nathan swore, his eyes widening slightly. "Sorry to hear that."
"Don't be. It's all in the past, and the clan is nothing but a husk of its former self, now."
"Then why are we here? Literally on your home's doorstep."
"As I said, the clan is a husk but the those remaining will do anything in their power to gain the status they once possessed. I believe that there may be something happening back home, but we can't confirm until we have a… Volunteer to tell us."
Wasn't sure why, but Nathan was certain there was a smirk beneath that mask.
"And I know just how to do that!" Hana chimed in, going beside Genji, and leaning against the arcade cabinet. "With the show I've booked, of course!"
"Let's get this underway, then," Nathan said getting from his seat to get to their luggage until he suddenly stopped himself and turned to face Hana with a furrowed brow. "Wait… You booked this entire venue and that's why it's empty now?"
"Uh, yeah."
"How?"
"With money, what else?"
"How were you able to get that much?"
"I already told you; I'm a Pro-Gamer."
Nathan's face only scrunched up more, previously astonished that such an occupation could exist in this world and astonished again that it could supply enough money to buy out a joint like this. It seemed that every time he tried to gain an understanding he's hit with something that just boggles him to no end. The Wastelander heard a hearty laugh as Genji walked up to him and planted a metal hand on his shoulder.
"I'll explain the 'e-sports' industry, later, Brin," the Japanese Cyborg promised. "For now, we must focus on the task at hand."
The concert was just like what Nathan had come to expect; There were loud noises, obnoxious lights, and lots of people in the same, cramped space. The venue was smaller than most, but the floor seemed absolutely packed with fans who've come to see "DVa", who stood at the center of a stage in her skintight bodysuit. That suit didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination, anything more and he felt that it was going to devolve into a burlesque show. Well, whatever her fans came for, whether it was her gaming prowess or her questionable choice of clothing, they were loud and wild to see her. And the Courier had to be right up against it, lest he wants anything to happen to the kid.
In a suit, too, so that was great.
"Annyeong haseyo!" DVa greeted in her native tongue, resulting in a huge roar from the crowd and making Nathan wince. At least the aviators did more than protecting his eyes from the neon lights.
"Christ, she really knows how to rile a crowd…" he muttered under his breath, barely able to hear his own words. "How the hell are we going to spot anyone here?"
"You'll see them," Genji called out over the mic, unseen and barely audible. "Trust me."
"Pretty sure I do. There's still a fuckload of people, though."
His eyes scanned over the crowds, seeing all their faces, and trying to spot anyone who looked out of place. Humans, Omnics. Men, Women. Young, and even Old. It was a pretty varied gathering in this group. There was even a good batch of foreigners mixing in with the locals, apparently coming from far away to see the Mech Pilot. This entire event becoming more of a culture shock the longer it went on. Then, as he kept watch over the crowd - his vision largely flooded in the constant sporadic neon, his hearing barraged by both the cheering and music – he spotted a not so colorful patch on the floor. Where the attendees wore bright and colorful clothing, there was a group of men just to the side huddled next to each other in uniform black and white suits. They seemed interested in what was happening on stage, some of them relaxing with drinks and smokes, one of them letting their coat lazily dangle over a shoulder. They looked like proper thugs, well-dressed for an occasion like this.
"Shimada, I think I've spotted someone," Nathan spoke into an earpiece. "A couple of men, well-dressed. Minding their business. Thoughts?"
"Hmm," Genji mulled into his ear. "Yes. Good eye, my friend."
"It's kinda hard to not notice something so obvious. Now what?"
"Hana… Your turn."
As soon as she heard those words in her ear, a devilish smirk stretched the pink war paint on her cheeks. With the mic in her hand, she cleared her throat before spotting the group of men in suits and pointing at them with one arm. As loudly as she could, DVa called to them, surprising the group of men as they looked at her and made the rest of the crowd look at what she was pointing at, unsure of what was happening. They were clueless, exchanging glances with each other.
"Yeah, you three!" Hana exclaimed, her hand beckoning them to the stage. "Let's play a game. Me against you three! Winner gets a prize from yours truly. How about it?"
Nathan raised an eyebrow at her, looking at the group of men to see they were discussing the challenge with each other. They deliberated for a few more moments, but Hana's voice echoed from the speaker's again.
"Aww, is someone chicken?" she mocked, her grin stretching even more.
Two of them men frowned at what she said while the third started laughing and pointing fingers at his colleagues. After a bit more arguing, they all collectively shrugged and walked towards the stage while crowd parted and cheered. Once they reached the stage, they went up with sheepish smiles as the Gamer began leading them to a set of arcade cabinets that were set up on the stage. One pink cabinet set up parallel to two blue ones.
"This will be a simple game," DVa began explaining as she sat at her spot, trying her hardest to not smug. "Whoever gets eliminated loses. You can have your buddy tag in if things get a bit intense for you. Everything understood?"
The three thugs looked at each other, excited but apprehensive as two of them took seats and the third stood by for moral support and coaching. Nathan could tell how this'll end.
A huge screen above the stage flashed and showed the audience the screen of their game, which opened with a styled and fiery title card, "Fighters of the Storm". It loaded in, quickly going into a match and the players selecting the characters. The style and graphics of the game reminded Nathan of the games he used to play, but not nearly as detailed or colorful. Not only were the looks flashy, but the sound that played through the speakers was nearly as boisterous. Enough to make the crowd go wild once the first note of the catchy tune played. The Pro-Gamer chose a woman who had tendrils of hair and insect-like protrusions for wings. The two opponents chose a hooded being in white robes and a huge, muscled creature that reminded the Waster of a Super-Mutant but was red. They chose the setting, both teams starting on either side, and a countdown appeared starting from "3". The crowd started chanting, and Nathan looked at Hana to see her grin hadn't faltered. She saw Nathan and winked. He huffed in amusement.
"FIGHT!"
What happened next was… Well, he wasn't too sure what the hell just happened. He only saw a series of flashes and lights, the characters moving faster than he could keep up. It just looked like a pixelated firework just blew up in everyone's face. The crowd cheered with every punch, kick, block, and grunt from onscreen, and Nathan looked to see the gang members yelling at each other and screaming, the third member looking on in horror, while the kid held the calm but focused gaze on her screen. Her hands manipulating the buttons and joystick as well as his hand operates his M1911; Very well and very fast. It was only a couple more seconds until both of her contestants were done for, their characters collapsing to the digital ground, digital dust being kicked up. Hana's fighter left standing. The crowd cheered, and the men slumped their heads in defeat. Hana just kept smiling and peered from the cabinet.
"Best two out of three?" she asked, feigning a tone of innocence.
Against their better judgments and most likely to save face, they accepted. The second fight went just as expected, except it was even shorter somehow and the help of a third player didn't tip the odds in their favor in the slightest. As the cheering slowly became background noise for him, Nathan found himself somewhat impressed. Even though this was in a game. As the suited men hung their heads low in defeat, their adversary sauntered over to them and leaned against one of their cabinets.
"Aww, sorry about that guys!" she apologized, but unable to wipe the shit-eating grin on her face. "Though, I might have something for you backstage for all your troubles."
They lifted their heads at the same time, raising their eyebrows at what she said. Hana giggled before getting off the cabinet and gesturing for them to follow her, in a very suggestive manner. The misled men's curiosity only grew exponentially from there.
"So… Come on, boys," she let out in a seductive tone.
'You've gotta be shitting me here…,' Nathan immediately caught on to what she was doing, but it seemed to be working. Either a credit to her abilities or a testament to how stupid aroused men can be. 'Really?! That is how she does it?! And it's working?!'
For a split second, she looked to Nathan and jerked her head to signal to follow, and he did, following the group backstage and leaving the loud crowd behind, for now. Walking further into the back of the arcade, the Waster was behind the group and noticed how Hana kept strutting as if to further bait the men she was leading. Didn't help that skinsuit outlined her ass. He never liked jumpsuits for that reason. Just felt like another thin layer of skin.
As she looked over her shoulder, flipping her hair to cast a set of faux dreamy eyes, luring the men into a false sense of security and almost making Brin's eyes roll out of his socket – something fell from the ceiling in a green blur and landed on the middleman, surprising the other two. Immediately, Nathan grabbed the man in the back and slammed his head against the wall, knocking him to the floor. He bent down and delivered a few more taps to make sure he was down, and got up to deal with the last gang member before he stopped and saw he was already being taken care of… By Song.
The Waster watched as she, nimble as she was, held onto the man's arms before jumping up and flipping herself so that her legs wrapped around his neck. Then, using her momentum, she swung and knocked the man to the ground before delivering solid punches down onto his head. Knocking him unconscious, she jumped up to see Nathan looking at her in surprise.
"You can fight like that?" the tall man asks, genuinely impressed for once.
"Yeah," the Korean Mech Pilot answers, brushing a loose bang of hair from her forehead. "What? You think I was in the Korean Army for nothing?"
"Not now, I guess. So, we have our guys? What's next?"
"Return to the concert and entertain the crowd," Genji explained, rising from the floor. "I will handle our new guests and tell you what I will learn when the concert is done."
"You sure you don't need any help interrogating these guys?"
"I am fine, Brin. Besides, aren't you enjoying the show? I know I was."
Hana's face lit up when she heard Genji speak highly of her performance. Meanwhile, Nathan grimaced slightly at the thought of having to go back to the lights and loud cheering, even though this event was more on the bearable end. The Cybernetic Ninja just chuckled and put a reassuring hand on her his shoulder.
"You really should open up more, Nathan," Genji advised, addressing the Waster with the green glowing line of his mask. "Literally a world of new experiences for you to see."
"Oh, I've had plenty of new experiences, Shimada. Not sure I'd suggest them to any of my friends."
"Well, this one is suggesting. Go on, try to enjoy yourself! I'll finish from here."
A few hours later…
The "DVa live experience" held at the Hanamura arcade had finally ended after a few, grueling, energetic hours. It was already past midnight when the last of the attendees were filing out of the arcade and going home to rest for the day.
However, there were a few stragglers left as they used what little time they had to interact with DVa. Chat with her, joke with her, and take those "selfie" photos with her. It took a good hour or two after the main event had ended for the celebrity to get through all the fans who stayed. Which were most of them. Meanwhile, Nathan stood to the side, watching them. A little exhausted, the Waster ditched the suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. The Japanese night air was a bit chilly for someone who's spent most of his life in the desert, but it wasn't enough to bother him. After a flash from a camera phone illuminated the sidewalk, he saw Hana give a fan one final hug before separating from them and leaving them in a state of fervor when they staggered away.
"You done?" Nathan asked.
"Yup!" Hana responded, beaming as she walked up to him.
"Finally. We need to get back inside. Shimada might have something for us."
"I was thinking about getting some food, first. We haven't eaten anything since coming here."
"Food can wait, kid. Let's just see if Genji has anything for us."
"I just texted Genji and he says he's still busy with them. So, we don't really have anything else to do."
"Really, then? I assume the word 'texted' has something to do with your mobile phone?"
"Uh…yeah," the Korean confirmed, astounded that he still didn't know that. "Wow, you really don't know anything about this world, don't you?"
"I'm not proud of it, kid."
She frowned at that response. Then, an orange light flashed off her face and she looked up to her left to spot the source. Her features instantly lit up when she saw what it was. Nathan looked up, too, and immediately saw a huge sign of a froglike creature in a flying saucer and two mechanical hands holding chopsticks and a plate of food. Before he could even ask what the creature was supposed to be, he felt his arm being pulled towards the building donning it.
"I know what will cheer you up!" Hana exclaimed, tugging hard. "Come on!"
"Woah, okay!" Nathan gave in.
Seconds later, being dragged into the establishment, Nathan was immediately greeted by the mild scent of food and steaming water. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw they were in a humble, compact restaurant in the building with a small section cornered off with what had to be the most cramped kitchen in the world. Above the kitchen were glowing menu signs and it was all attended by an older gentleman in white. The cook looked up, and his wrinkled features wrinkled further as he addressed the two new patrons.
"Kon'nichiwa!" the old cook greeted, bowing his head for a second. "Nani ni shimasu ka?"
"Rāmen, onegai!" Hana said, taking a glance at Nathan behind her, then holding up two fingers. "Watashitachi no tame ni."
As Hana ordered, Nathan looked around the small restaurant and thought it was a pretty decent establishment, aesthetic wise. Nothing too fancy, or stylish. Just a simple to place go in and get some food. Smelled clean, too. Was almost like a bar lacking the alcohol but he could make do. Quickly pulling out his Vault 13 canteen from a pocket and taking a sip before putting it back.
Then, Hana came up to him, holding two steaming bowls and setting them along the counter on the wall. Nathan took a seat next to her, the stool squeaking under his weight. Then, a bowl was slid before him, along with a set of utensils. The smell of the soup hit him, first. It was a bowl of noodles in a golden-brown broth, topped with a series of chopped greens, sliced meat, and a section of a boiled egg. The Waster's mouth instantly began to water.
"We call that 'ramen'," Hana declared, feeling prideful for helping to culturally enrich the Californian Wastelander. "And we eat it with these chopsticks. We use it like thi-"
A series of slurping noises interrupted her, and she looked to see Nathan sucking in gulps of ramen, using the set of chopsticks very proficiently. When he took one more gulp of the soup before swallowing, he bumped his chest twice to let out a satisfied burp.
"Man, that was good," Nathan said, going in for more. "Sorry, kid, what were you saying?"
"You know how to use chopsticks?" Hana questioned, almost stunned.
"What? These?" he held up the two sticks, clacking them like a claw. "Yeah. We have noodles where I'm from, so I know how to use 'em. Didn't know noodles were a Japanese thing, too."
He went back to the ramen and started lapping up more noodles, the Korean watched him with a sense of curiosity. Eventually, her features lightened and she shrugged, snapping her utensil into two sticks and delving into the soup. Nathan was completely affixed to his bowl of ramen, eating it almost voraciously. Hana ate hers, but was quieter and not nearly as fast. She made occasional glances to the man next to her but tried to stay focused on her meal. They ate in relative silence for the next few minutes, until Hana spoke up, again.
"So, where did you learn to use chopsticks?" she asked, curious about his travels.
"San Francisco," the Californian answered. "The remains of it, I mean."
"What was it like there?"
"It was…A decent place to visit. Kinda weird, but the people there are bearable. They mostly kept themselves to what used to be old 'Chinatown'. I guess it still is a Chinatown, given who lives there."
"Are they a part of the… 'NCR' you're from?"
Nathan chuckled, spilling broth onto the counter. Shaking his head, he said, "No. Not yet, at least. NCR's been getting increasingly intimate with them. Practically surrounding the entire city on all sides. They haven't been annexed, last time I checked, but I doubt the Shi will have much breathing room left if fuckin' Kimball has anything to say about it."
"Who?"
"Eh, don't let this Tribal bore you with politics, kid. I don't know how it's like here, but politics in the Wasteland ain't something you want to get into."
The Courier glanced at his hand, seeing the scars ridden across the back.
"So, where'd you get those?" Song then asked, looking at the scars on his hands. The Courier cast a look at her, his eyes narrowed, and it seemed she may have crossed a line as she regarded him. However, he sighed and rubbed the skin on his hands.
"Utah," was all he said.
Before she could further enquire about what that meant, they heard someone clearing their throat behind them. Turning on their stools, they looked and saw there were now seven more occupants inside of the cramped restaurant, dressed in matching suits like the men they bagged at the arcade. Some of them brandished weapons - swords and knives. Two of them were Omnics, also dressed in matching outfits, and with a strange design for their faceplates – more porcelain in appearance. One of them had horns like a Deathclaw. The cook was behind them, his face ridden with terror as he cowers behind a counter.
"How the fuck did we not notice you guys?" Nathan questioned, looking at them and wondering how they got there.
"Come with us, or we'll force you," the suited man in the middle demanded, pointing a katana at him.
Nathan let out a disgruntled moan, throwing his head back.
"Awww, we're playing this game. Great."
"You guys going to try something?!" Hana goaded, putting on her war face. "Do it!"
"Kid," Nathan intervened, holding an arm out. "If we're going to beat the shit out of all of them, mocking them will only pump them up and make it harder to knock 'em down."
"What?"
"Anger makes an idiot more resilient, for some reason. It's something I've noticed, and it probably applies here. For the fleshy ones."
The men in suits started looking at each other, confused and trying to figure out why there were still conversing casually. The man in the middle grew more livid and pointed the sword at them, again.
"Enough of this nonsense!" he yelled, the katana glinting in the light. "Surrender now!"
Nathan looked at him, unamused. Then, turned on his stool and looked back at his ramen.
"It's still hot."
"Wha-?"
They didn't have time to react as Nathan grabbed the bowl of soup and threw it at the suit at his far-left, making him scream and claw at his face from the hot water. A gang member on the right charged Hana but was knocked out as a ceramic bowl flying at high speeds flew into his face and shattered. Two already down and out.
The remaining five charged the two, two Omnics and a man going for Nathan while the remaining thugs charged Hana. Trying to punch the tall human, an Omnic swung at him but missed and had large meaty hands wrap around his neck before being thrown against the wall and leaving a dent. The other Omnic grabbed onto Nathan, trying to choke him from behind, but the machine was thrown off and onto the floor. The metal body cracking the floor, the thug tried to get up but was picked up and had his faceplate slammed against the counter at an angle, resulting in a sizable dent, cracked blue lights, and a fizzle of electricity. Letting him go, the Waster turned and faced the leader, the one who kept pointing the sword at him. With a scream, the katana-wielding suit rushed at him, swinging the blade down. Sidestepping it, Nathan grabbed his arm by the wrist and twisted it, resulting in something cracking and the man screaming as he let go of the katana. Still holding him by the cuff, he grabbed the sword and rose it high to strike down on the man but something cold and metallic latched onto him and began punching him in the back. Feeling like lead balls were hitting him in the spine, he let go of the sword and twisted around to punch the offender – the Omnic that swung at him – in the faceplate. The human then moaned in pain from the decision he just made but sent the machine reeling as it lost balance. Seizing the opportunity, the large human grabbed the Omnic by the leg and threw him against a different wall this time. He starts cracking with electricity and his body whirred loudly, struggling to get up, before something grabbed his faceplate and began repeatedly slamming his head against the wall. The machine not even strong enough to free himself from this grasp, powerless to do until the mechanical limbs flopped and the porcelain shell shattered. With one final smash, Nathan bounced the Omnic's head against the hard floor and stands back up. Hearing fighting behind, he turns to see Hana, being grabbed from behind by one suit while another tries to attack from the front but is being kept away by her legs. He walks over and grabs the front attacker, punching him in the gut before slamming his head onto the wall counter, hard enough to shake all the plates and bowl that were on it and leaving a blood imprint on it. Seeing this, Hana elbows her captor in the gut and is released, then spinning and delivering a high kick into the thug's face. Dazed but still conscious, the Korean then delivered another kick, sending him to the floor and staying there. Hana stands back, breathing heavily as she looks down at their handiwork, men and machines writhing in pain and in pools of their respective bodily fluids.
"Good job," Nathan said, cracking his knuckles and smiling a little. "You actually have something in you."
"Ummm…" Hana let out, pointing at something behind him.
He turned around and saw it was the sword-wielding idiot, still standing. Nathan thought he was going to stomp his head on the curb until a loud bang echoed throughout the tiny sent the suited swordsman collapsing to the floor. Behind was the old cook, holding an iron pan in his hands. Both Nathan and Hana were surprised but welcomed the act of bravery.
"Thanks, old man," he expressed, gracious for the assistance.
The cook looked up at him and smiled, pointing at the tall man before holding one thumb up then exclaiming in very broken English, "American big cheese!"
The New Californian's smile immediately vanished as there was giggling behind him. However, before they could do anything else an electronic noise hummed near them. It was Hana's pink phone, on the counter behind them. The owner picked it up and turned on the screen, her face then contorting as she read what was on it.
"What is it?" Nathan asked.
"It's Genji," she said, her eyes darting over the message. "He's saying he's already gone to Shimada castle. Saying that we should wait for him until he's back."
"What?!" he exclaimed, staring at her and her phone wide-eyed. "Why?!"
"I don't know. He texted me half-an-hour, ago… Ugh, I had silent mode on!"
Nathan got closer, his expression growing with concern.
"There's more," Hana said, her face contorting more in confusion as she kept reading. "He's said that it's his turn now and that we both did a good job."
"The fuck's that supposed to mean?"
The Mech Pilot shrugged, clueless as to what that meant, as well. Nathan knew something was off and felt that was rather unlike the Shimada Ninja to just dash off like that. Only notifying them with a "text", and right around the same time some goons jump them. He dashed off to the outside.
"Hey, where are you going?" Song yelled at him, making him stop in the doorway.
"See, what the hell's he's up to," Brin said, looking from the doorway to see the big wooden wall in the street, not even thirty meters away.
"At least let me come with you!"
"No," he sternly declined. "Even if you're not in your pink tank, I don't want you messing anything up. I need to be quiet about this. Get this all sorted out and get back inside, I'll deal with this."
"But-!"
"Stay here."
He left, heading in the opposite direction of the castle and towards the arcade to retrieve his gear. As he did so, he brought his canteen out and the contents into his mouth. The burning sensation in his throat distracting him from the numbing pain in his hand.
All armored up, the Courier walked along the empty, paved road and towards that large wooden gate of the castle. He spotted the engraved symbol of the twin dragons, encircling each other. There was a set of chain holding a large plank of wood. Tugging on it, he knew there would be no way of getting these off without some tools and noise. Looking back up at the dragons, he noticed grooves and indentations deep enough for his fingers. Slinging All-American, he flipped on his red-eyes and began to scale the wooden gate, slowly inching his way until he was on the other side. With a thud, his boots thumped across a wooden surface and he rocketed up with his rifle to find himself transplanted back in time to feudal Japan, with ancient architecture and neatly kept gardens. And a dead body on the wooden floor. A castle guard, and judging from the slash, Genji's work.
'Why're you heading off alone, Shimada?' his questioned silently, rubbing a stain of blood between his fingers.
Nathan slowly walked out into the courtyard, his boots breaking the wave-like pattern of stone pebbles that surrounded the large rock erected in the middle. With his helmet's lowlight vision, his eyes scanned over the structures surrounding him. Caring little for the feudal Japanese architecture as he watched for all the corners. He was sure the Ninja was capable, but he was in enemy territory now and he had to find where he went. Gripping the carbine tightly, his trigger finger mere centimeters away from the trigger. Making his way to the structure housing the large bell, he received a transmission through his helmet.
"Nathan, where are you?" Hana called out over the radio.
"In the castle," he responded, still scanning the roofs. "Trying to find him. I'll update when I do."
"Are you sure you don't need me there? I can help!"
"Appreciate the gesture but I don't need a pink tank for an infiltration mission. Just stay put, kid."
Nathan released his hand from the radio and kept walking. Everything was quiet, nothing but howling wind and peeping crickets in the distance. There were more bodies, and it felt eerie walking around in the dead silence. However, he saw something on the floor shine in the little light there was and bent down to look at it. It was an arrow, but it was made with high-end materials. The shaft was of a metal-polymer composite with plastic fins, and the tip was a shiny, serrated alloy with blue accents.
'People still use arrows?' the New Californian questioned, examining the projectile. 'Not even tribals stick with this shit.'
Before he could inspect further, he stopped himself as he saw a ray of moonlight shudder over him and heard rope stretching, instantly twisting to fire off a shot of his rifle at a shadowy figure. However, he couldn't get a shot off as his eyes grew wide and he ducked to narrowly avoid an arrow. He rocketed up and fired a burst in the general direction of the attack as he now ran to the bell tower and took cover by the left wall of the entrance. Back against the wooden wall, he peers out into the courtyard and sees nothing but the glint of an arrow stuck in a rock but notices there were other bits of metal stuck to the arrow or on the floor beneath it. The Courier brought a hand up to his head and could feel the arrow had struck the right side of his helm, damaging it. Both his lowlight vision and the radio were out of commission. Leaving him blind in the dark and severing his connection with the others.
"Fuck!" he cursed under his breath.
Then in the upper left corner of his eyes, he saw movement and snapped his head to see a figure standing in an opening above him. Another glint flew at him, but he rolled out of the way and returned fire. However, the archer was gone again, moving swiftly out of the Courier's line of sight. Nathan tried to listen for any footfalls but could only hear foreboding silence. He could see nothing either and wondered how they were able to get high up to so fast and so quietly. Getting around as if they knew the place inside and out. This person wasn't just a thug. They were good, but their choice of weapon only further confused him. Advanced tactics yet obsolete weaponry. Wasn't sure why, but it reminded him of Genji.
There was an opening to the right of him, close to another building with cover and a stairwell inside. Checking to see if the coast was clear, first, the Courier got up and sprinted as fast as he could. As he was out into the open, even for the mere seconds he was, a set of arrows rained on him. One of them managing to rip the withered duster before it splintered into the wooden floor. Now inside the other building, Nathan twisted with his rifle and faced the doorway as he backed up to the stairwell. His boots slowly thumped against the wood, hearing it creak with every step. Finally seeing the stairwell in his peripheral vision, he turned to climb it but stopped as there was someone at the top of it. He could only catch a glance at what the archer looked like until he was forced to duck down to evade another arrow by centimeters. All-American rocked with every shot, his target narrowly dodging bullets as he started running in the opposite direction. The Courier gave chase, climbing the stairs to the second floor and watching through the scope his target running across the catwalk before jumping down to the ground. He ran over to the catwalk and leveled his rifle to the open ground to see no one there.
'Jesus, he's fucking slippery!' he noted about the assassin.
Across the catwalk was the entrance to another building, so he ran through and walked down two sets of stairs to be back outside on the castle grounds. Nathan was closer to the castle itself, running into a yard with trees with pink leaves. The sight of little pink petals falling to the ground would be a tranquil sight on a normal day, one without having to be stuck with a foot-long piece of a steel and polymer. The Waster kept one eye trained on the ground and another trained on the sky, fully aware his opponent was capable of traversing both.
As he walked under the falling leaves of one of the cherry blossoms, he saw a glint of blue in the moonlight, instantly pivoting his rifle and rapid firing into a balcony in his upper left. About to empty the magazine, he strode into the cover of a little hut in the middle of the courtyard to reload. However, as he rummaged for a fresh mag, an arrow shot into the hut he was in, but unlike the ones before, this arrow separated into several parts and began ricocheting around the enclosed space glowing bright blue. The Courier crouched and held up his Pip-Boy arm to shield his face, wincing every time he heard something bounces very close to him. Suddenly, he grimaced and groaned under his mask as he felt pain suddenly surging in his left hand. After the ricochets subsided, he opened his eyes to immediately see a metal fragment poking through the palm of his left hand and the side of his right thigh, blood dripping through the torn glove from the wound. Before he could even try to mend it, someone came into view of the doorway and he barely had time to dodge another incoming arrow and watching the tip embed itself into the wood behind him. He turned forward but was hit upside his head by something and felt blows land on his chest before having a leg swiped and making him fall to one knee. The attacker was about to deliver another strike onto the Courier but was blocked by his left forearm before a hand shot up and grabbed the attacker by the throat, hurling them to the wall.
Now properly face-to-face with the archer, Nathan saw it was a man with black, greying hair, shaved at the sides, a short beard around his mouth. The Archer wore a black coat with pockets over it and dark pair cargo pants. There was a blue sling over his coat holding his quiver that had colored buttons and a little Japanese flag stuck to it. Curiously, he had a set of metal piercings at the top of his nose bridge and an earring on the right ear. Nathan couldn't examine anymore features as the Archer, with fury in his eyes, was able to kick him away with both feet and sent him staggering back into the other wall. He pulled out his sidearm and started firing at the Archer, who rolled and evaded the gunfire. The Courier kept firing as he ran up to the doorway and shot at him until the assassin traversed a corner under a bridge and was now out of sight. Ejecting the magazine, the armored man went to grab a fresh one but felt a tinge of pain and looked down to see the sliver of metal was still there. Without a second thought, he grabbed his helmet and pulled it up to expose his mouth before reaching down and biting down on the metal dart. In one swift movement, he yanked it out of his hand and felt a pain rocket up his arm to his spine as the flesh around his palm tore. Blood began seeping out from the wound and he could feel some of his blood staining his mouth before he spat the fragment out and covered his face with the black mask. He then grabbed the fragment in his right thigh and pulled it out with a sickening squelch, before producing a Stimpak and stabbing the wound with it. Grabbing another magazine and shoving the blood-soaked box into his sidearm before running out of the hut and into a doorway that was adjacent to the underpass the Archer went through.
Pulling out his carbine, he leveled his muzzle as he walked out into another part of the castle grounds, this time a training yard filled with targets and weapons. There were no signs of life as he walked out further into the yard. The air still deathly silent. But as he walked by a tree an arrow flew from above and nearly struck him in the side but stuck his duster to the bark of the tree. He raised his gun up, but it was kicked out from his hands and onto the dirt, the strap cut by the same arrow that pinned his duster. The assassin fell right in front of him and was about to let the string of his bow loose again until the Courier swiped his left hand and bounced the arrow away with the hard case of his Pip-Boy. He then grabbed the man and pulled him towards himself to make his fist contact his face, knocking him to the ground from that one blow. Pulling out the arrow from his duster, the man in black armor was about to plunge the arrowhead into its owner but missed as the Archer rolled away, making him plant it into the dirt. Standing up and pulling another arrow from his quiver, he was about to take aim but was too late as the larger man had already reached him and swiped the bow away before delivering an uppercut into his gut. Upon contact, the Archer instantly felt his insides quake and air vacate his lungs. He tried to counter by grabbing the Courier's arm and twisting it clockwise. That only elicited a slight moan of pain, before Nathan kicked the man away with one leg. Pulling out the SIG, he was going to take aim, but the pistol was knocked out of his hand by another arrow. Now baring teeth under his helmet, he looked in front to see the man quickly recovered with the bow drawn and an arrow ready to be fired. The Courier glared daggers at the Archer as he pulled out his combat knife and swung the blade underhand.
"You're really starting to piss me off," he growled lowly as he gained stance.
"Hmph," the Archer let out, before speaking in a deep, somewhat gravelly voice, narrowing his eyes further. "I do what I must. Especially with your kind."
The Japanese Archer understood what he said. Good.
Without warning, the Courier charged forward like a hound, and the man fired the arrow but sent it on a diagonal course towards his target. He ducked, feeling the arrowhead grind against the back of his head but still charging. Another arrow flew, and he swiped it away with the Pip-Boy case. The third arrow ripped a hole in the duster, barely missing his wide torso. Nearly closing the gap, the fourth flew the shortest of them and was successful in hitting its target, embedding itself into the shoulder of the armored man. But it made little difference as Nathan closed the distance and started swiping the blade, the Archer barely avoiding the attacks as he was pushed closer to the wall. Trying to find any opportunity he can, the Archer sidestepped to the left of a swipe and grabbed his arm, but received a hard jab to his face that dazed him. The blade then was swiped across his chest, resulting in the strap being cut and the quiver now loose. Seeing this, Nathan grabbed the quiver and flung it over the railing and down below with the arrows resting in it. The Archer went wide-eyed for a second before blocking an oncoming blade with his bow. The two now began to exchange blows and swipes, their weapons sparking with every moment of contact. The Archer was quick and careful, expertly blocking and parrying every swipe from the Courier, but he felt every blow rattled his bones, his opponent clearly not holding back. Even for his size and bulk, the strength being displayed wasn't normal, but the Archer didn't have time to think about the implications as he tried to save his skin from being carved. In one fell swoop, he caught the blade in between the parts of his bow and twisted it, slipping it from his opponent's hand and casting it to the side. However, he felt two large hands grab his bow before a powerful kick sent him reeling back. He peered up as he landed on his feet, but something swung at his face and sent him onto his back. A boot came into his view and he swiftly rolled to the side and got to his feet to face the man in black armor, his tattered coat now swishing in the wind. They both only had their fists, the Archer taking up a stance while the Courier just stared at him with the red lenses.
With a yell, the Archer charged forward with his fist, but it was blocked as his opponent wrapped his arm around his and grabbed his neck from behind. Holding him in a vice, the Courier delivered powerful punches into his torso, feeling something crack, before grabbing his neck and slamming his face into his knee. Let go, the Archer stumbled back and balanced against a tree, dazed, his face now bruised and bleeding. He barely had time to react as the large man grabbed him by the throat and began pummeling him in the side of his head, rattling his brain and distorting his vision with every punch. Watching those red-eyes hover over him. He then kicked his leg out from under him, offsetting the taller man's balance before grabbing him and throwing him off himself. He scrambled to find his bow or any weapon to help. Fortunately, he saw his bow lying in the grass a few meters away and dashed after it. It was futile as he was grabbed by the coat and flung the stone wall with such force that pain waved through his entire body. Collapsing to the floor on his face, he turned his head and his eyes widened as he a saw his opponent's blade just a meter away from him. He reached out to it, his fingertips just grazing the hilt, but screamed in pain as a heavy boot stomped down onto his hand, feeling the bones fracture in his flesh. A bloody, gloved hand shot down and grabbed him by the wrist as the boot stepped off, but the hand tugged as the boot then planted itself on his back and he screamed in more pain as he felt his shoulder pop.
"Broken ribs, a fractured jaw, a broken hand, and a dislocated shoulder," the man standing above him listed the injuries he's inflicted, so far, snarling under his helmet and seething. "Let's see how else you fucked up."
Bending down and grabbing the Archer by a flap on his coat and his belt, the Courier gritted his teeth and let out an animalistic roar as he picked the man up high in the air before sending him crashing down onto a set of nearby wooden crates, splintering the two boxes into a million wooden fragments and kicking up dust everywhere. Finally, the Japanese Archer was out of commission, Nathan standing over him and breathing heavily. He looked to his left and saw the shaft of the arrow still embedded into his skin. He grabbed it, shaking and wincing before he snapped it. Still holding the rest of the shaft, he bent down and grabbed the unconscious man, dragging him out onto the grass. Kneeling on top of him, he grabbed his face by the chin and pivoted it up to his face as he raised the broken arrow. However, the man below him began to stir, and his eyes slowly opened and look to see the black armor hovering over him.
"Do it," the Archer rasped out, blood spilling out of his mouth.
"Gladly," the Courier coldly responded.
His hand descended, bringing the broken arrow with. In that instant, the man below him already accepted his fate and closed his eyes to wait for it to be over. But without warning, a flash of green cast over them and the man looked to see the broken shaft hovering mere centimeters from his eye, the glint of metal halting his would-be killer's arm. Nathan tried to look but was kicked away, rolling to the side. Quickly standing up, he looked to see Genji standing between him and the broken man, his short blade drawn and at the ready. Nathan huffed in disbelief.
"Shimada, what the fuck are you doing?!" he questioned, enraged that his kill was taken from him.
"Making sure you don't kill my brother," the Ninja calmly answered.
"…What?!"
After he said that, Genji began to ease his stance and slowly slid his blade back into the scabbard on his hip, the sound of it snapping shut echoing throughout the yard. Then, he knelt and faced the man he proclaimed to be his brother, but he was out cold. Nathan approached the two, barely able to believe what he just heard as he looked down at the two men. One metal and one flesh. One alive and functional, the other nearly beaten to death.
"But… he shot at me," he barked, now willing to cease hostility. "With his fucking arrows!"
"That may be so, but there must be a reason he would make such a decision," the metal brother responded, planting a hand on his brother's chest. "I know him. He wouldn't make such a decision lightly. He was the one who informed me of the transgressions, here in our home. Though, I didn't expect to see him here."
Nathan's eyes hovered to the stump protruding from his bleeding shoulder, before looking back at the Archer. If what Genji said was true, then there would be another case of family bullshit for him to deal with. The prospect was enough to make him more tired than the fight before did. He already knew he wasn't going to like the prick, even if he was the Cyborg-Ninja's brother.
"But what are you doing here?" Genji questioned, staring up at him with his green visor.
"I came to check on you," Nathan answered. "We saw your 'text', but Song and I were jumped by a couple goons and we were afraid something happened… I sure as hell didn't count on your brother being here."
"Well, now, we must gather our things and leave," the Ninja responded, picking his brother up. "Tell Winston that our mission here is done and we're coming home. With one more passenger."
Sorry if the Japanese is inaccurate. I can only do so much with Google Translate. ._.