Chapter 16: To Meet the Gaze of the Iris

Genji didn't see much of Jesse for the first half of the second week of his community service, and tried to be a little more conscious about cleaning up after a few tips from Zenya - such as cleaning something he'd used right after using it, when it came to dishes - and at least creating dedicated times to clean the bathroom and kitchen and sticking to it. And the same with laundry, after Hanzo returned with the first load.

He didn't always succeed, but he was getting a little better at it to the point where Jesse even thanked him for cleaning the mess on one of the end tables, saying something about always meaning to get to it, but just not finding the will.

Genji basked in the praise, feeling uncharacteristically light and pleased with himself. "So, tell me cowboy, where have you been all week?"

Jesse heaved a sigh and flopped onto the couch, cushion sagged from being Jesse's favorite seat, and kicked off his boots. "My other boss has me lined up for a round'r three on the weekend; couple qualifiers for the bigger underground leagues. I ain't pretty or rich enough fer the more 'official' stuff," he shrugged, pulling off his hat and rubbed a hand through his hair. "Unless I'm there t'show off how good the boss' people are."

"Huh. Piloting, I assume," Genji said, pulling out two beers and popped them open, eyes still glowing a soft green when he sat down beside Jesse and handed him a beer.

"Yep," he nodded, popping the 'p' and grinned at the sight of the beer. "Thankee kindly, Genji. You wanna come watch?"

"Of course. I'm curious about how well you handle yourself," he smirked back, tapping the necks of their bottles together before sipping his beer.

It tasted a little like cold, watered-down piss, but Genji had to admit that he appreciated being able to consume some alcohol with moderate side effects - the headache that would strike in a few hours was awful, but one standard painkiller later and it was as if it had never been there. Perhaps his father and Hanzo hadn't been quite so honest about this sleeve's limitations, after all.

But then again, Genji had also been too busy to really test those alleged limitations, to be frank.

Jesse snorted, drawing Genji back to the present. "I'm pretty good, thank you. I ain't no Hanzo Shimada, but I'd like to think I wouldn't be taken down immediately against him in a match."

"Hm, a lot of people say that," Genji said, curling up on the opposite end of the couch. "I can assure you, I can count the number of people who can keep up with Hanzo on one hand. Thumb excluded. I'll judge if you're one of those when I watch you."

"Y'know him well?"

"Genji made a noise in his throat. "Well enough. Used to know him better than I do, now."

"Might be worth reachin' out again, if yer interested in maintainin' that," Jesse said, sagging deeper into the couch.

"I can assure you, networking isn't necessary between us," Genji chuckled, taking a deep swig.

"Naw, naw I ain't talkin' about 'networking'," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, if you were close, you were friends, right? If you just lost touch 'cause y'all got busy, then reachin' out to talk again should be somethin' you both'll welcome. Don' lose yer friends jus' cause life gets in the way. I know y'all live forever and that, but that ain't an excuse t'put off talking to someone you had a good time with."

Genji hummed, pouting a little as he thought. Friends? Had he and Hanzo ever been... friends?

What a strange way to think of my brother, he thought, glancing at the holoscreen tv when it started, Jesse clearly taking the silence to mean the conversation had ended.

"How many rounds are you expected to take on?" he asked.

"Hm? Oh, prob'ly about four or five," Jesse drawled, shrugging.

"Ah, yes. You must do well, then, with five different sleeves," Genji nodded, blinking at Jesse when he laughed, deep and booming from his chest.

"Ahw, darlin', no," he chuckled. "I got one biotech fer all o'that. Mechanics're there t'patch up the worst before they send me back in there. I gotta be careful how I use it."

"Only... only one?!" Genji asked, shaking his head. "That's madness!"

"'S'how it is," Jesse shrugged, taking another swig of his beer. "Sounds like I'm already better'n what you know," he finished with a smirk.

Genji snorted and rolled his eyes, settling against the couch again. "I don't know if you're bold or stupid, or if your sponsor is just cheap. But I will find out, so don't tell me anything else."

Jesse hummed beside him, dark honey eyes shining with some hidden amusement.

Genji would learn his secrets, in time. And perhaps he would be one of the three to stand against Hanzo for a little while.

Genji worked hard during his days, finding the work strangely rewarding. The way people thanked him for repairing something, or cleaning up, or helping return things to their rightful places after a rough night. It left a kind of high that he couldn't describe, that lingered well into the evening when he went to bed.

Talking to Zenya about it only earned him a laugh from the monk, the young man simply cupping Genji's cheek with a cool palm and that Mona Lisa smile - so soft and so tender, on lips that looked so soft and inviting - as he told Genji that giving was supposed to feel good. That helping each other was a fundamental part of being human.

He believed it, in that moment.

And the belief lingered after he went home, a little longer each time Zenya told it to him.

"What're you daydreamin' about, Genji?"

McCree's voice pulled him back to the present, shaking his head and felt his lips ease out of the dopey grin he had. "Nothing; just remembered something good," he shrugged, standing up from the stool at the kitchen counter and smoothed his shirt. "Tonight's the night we head out, right?"

"Yep; meetin' up with a friend o'mine. He's also a pilot, and he'll be at the rink tonight."

"Oh, is that so? Is he with your employer or a rival?"

"Naw, he's a private. Been tryin' out a couple of these fights to test the waters an' it's been goin' well enough, so far. There ain't many chances to run with a biotech 'round here. You ready to go?" he asked, standing by the door with his hip cocked to one side.

"Yeah," Genji nodded, snagging his jacket and pulled it on, shrugging into it and stopped by the microwave to quickly style his hair to McCree's sigh and a muttered something in Spanish. "Let's go, what are you waiting for?" he smirked back, opening the apartment door and traipsed out to Jesse's chuckle.

"Yer brother must be a saint t'put up with your antics all the time," Jesse chuckled, locking up behind them and pulled on his hat, falling into step beside Genji.

He snorted and shook his head. "I'm sure I irritate him more than anything else. But he did put up with me when we were kids, and he was the elder brother, so…" he trailed, shrugging exaggeratedly. "I earned enough to pay for food for us with the odd jobs around the monastery, but I didn't factor in a third."

"That's fine; we ain't gonna visit afterwards. At least, that ain't the plan so far. We're just headed to the same place," Jesse said, hailing a cab that took them a little further into a better area, and pulled up outside an apartment block.

He paid, shooing Genji out and walked over to a thoroughly abused Old Earth van, all four wheels - so primitive, so ugly - planted firmly on the ground.

Genji whistled low, circling it with an incredulous grimace. "Are you sure this is roadworthy?"

"It absolutely is," another voice said, a guy of roughly McCree's age, height and build coming out of the back with a sigh and a pant.

His face lit up when he saw Jesse, though, beaming and pulled him in for an embrace full of back slapping hard enough to dislodge organs, if the meaty slaps and thumps were anything to judge by.

Genji watched, curious at the display and waved awkwardly from a distance when the man noticed him.

"Your roommate, huh James?"

"Yep," Jesse nodded, looking back at Genji. "Genji, meet Max. Max, this is Genji. Max'n I've been friends for a long while now, and he's a real bastard."

Max snorted, shoving at Jesse with a grin and held out a hand to Genji. "Pleasure to meet you. You also a pilot? Or any interest in it?"

"Ah, yes. I'm currently banned from playing, but I do pilot," Genji nodded, then pointed at Jesse. "Did you just call him James?"

"Yeah, he did," Jesse sighed, rolling his eyes when Max grinned.

"You know the Old Earth legend, Jesse James?"

"The cowboy? I see the resemblance," Genji smirked, pretending to cock a gun from his hip and laughed when Max nodded. "So, are you ready to go? Anything we need to help with?"

"Hm, gotta get the last of my things in the van; just a duffel of a first aid kit and some basics to repair the biotech. I'll be right out again," he said, striding back inside and leaned in to get the bag in question, obviously placed just inside the door.

"So you've been doing community service, huh?"

"Yes," Genji nodded, watching Max pass him, and stepped up beside Jesse. "I am almost halfway with the month; then I only have two more to go, I think. The good ol' captain may have added another, I think. But I am eager to return home, frankly."

Max nodded, pulling open the back of the van and slid the duffel in. "I can believe that. Just gotta be more careful about how you do what you do next time, right?" he winked, shutting the back and gestured at the van. "In you both get. James I need you to sit in the back to keep an eye on the biotech. I've been having some troubles with the stasis pod tipping."

"I told you t'get somethin' sturdier," Jesse said, shaking his head and got in the back.

Max raised a brow at Genji. "You're riding -"

"Shotgun, excellent," he grinned, bounding up to the passenger side and got in to Max's chuckles, choosing not to share that, usually, he got out of serving any time thanks to his brother.

Max was pleasant company, and much more eager and talkative than Jesse. He had a softer feel to him, too - a little like someone who was dipping their toes into the pool without knowing how deep it was or how to swim, if Genji had to guess.

He was a little too eager and trusting with the process of the fights, insisting he was fine running it solo, with Jesse as his mechanic to link him. Genji said nothing, only looking him over with raised brows and laughed off the questions about his eyes and lied that they were expensive contacts when they glowed a dark green in concern.

Jesse didn't seem bothered though, even when Genji made eye contact with him and raised a brow.

If it was good enough for Jesse, it was far more than good enough for Genji. Max was no better than a stranger to him, after all.

They parked, and Jesse was out first to open the back and rearrange things so he and Max could roll and wheel the stasis pod out, wth Max rolling it alone into the back of the club to get to the basement. Technically speaking, this club didn't belong to the Shimadas, but they did offer a more illicit form of security and enabled black arms deals to happen in relative safety here, so Genji figured he'd be safe, sort of recognized, and might just be able to keep Jesse out of harm's way, if anything turned sour. But nothing was a guarantee. Hanzo could still be forced to bring down a firm hand on the occupants and possibly start a gang war if things went that bad.

Hopefully it wouldn't.

Although if something happens to him, then that should be Jesse's boss's problem, he sniffed, pouting when he and Jesse weren't allowed into the club with Max.

"McCree. I see Ashe has you competing again tonight," one of the bouncers said, stepping front of their path to the door to stop them from going further and directed them into the queue.

"Oh my god, you're one of Ashe's," Genji said, nose wrinkling as he pat Jesse's bicep in sympathy. "If I had money to bet, I'd bet on the other guy. But good luck, I'm sure you'll put up a good fight," he grinned, laughing when Jesse shrugged him off with a feral smirk of his own.

"Oh, sugar, I ain't losin' tonight. An' what's so bad about bein' Ashe's pilot?"

"Everyone knows their tech is inferior," Genji shrugged, rolling his eyes at the way the bouncer shifted and flexed his muscles in the front, and the long queue they joined. "And everyone knows she doesn't bother to train her pilots up, either. She's cheap, even if she's doing things on a budget."

"Wow," Jesse sighed, shaking his head as he was frisked and allowed in, the bouncers stepping into Genji's path when he tried to walk past them without being frisked.

Genji tilted his head up at them, sniffing disdainfully. "Shimada Genji. Step aside."

"I think not-"

"Genji-san?!"

Genji turned to see one of their pilots, the woman's face lighting up with recognition before she hurried to bow. "It is an honor to see you, Genji-san. Your brother is well?"

"He is, thank you for asking," Genji smiled back, all charm and ease as they chatted, the bouncers finally relenting with a shared grimace and stepped aside to let him pass along with the pilot and her team.

"I'll let your boss know you're doing a great job. Top notch security," Genji winked, patting the bouncer who'd stepped into his way on the chest and swaggered in, grinning at Jesse's slack jaw. "What's that look for, Jesse?"

"Look, I knew you were a Meth, but I didn't think you were a goddamn Shimada," he said, muttering something in Spanish and heaved a sigh as he ran a hand over his mouth and down his beard.

"You were in the Shimada castle, in my bedroom. Hell, Jesse. You were even in my bed. Who did you think it belonged to?"

"I dunno. It didn't really hit home till now," Jesse admitted, heaving a sigh and shook his head. "Don' matter now. I gotta prep for the fight, an' since yer not part of the competition, y'can't come in the back with me."

"Oh, that's fine," Genji said, waving a hand. "I'd probably cringe at the way Ashe has you link up and weep over your biotech."

"Goddamn," Jesse muttered, shaking his head and waved Genji off once they were well inside the makeshift stadium, and disappeared behind a few dividers to where the pilots, their doctors and mechanics were handling the linking.

The stadium was a secondary basement space with many supporting columns under the club, cold thanks to the concrete surroundings, and wet in places because of the air conditioning systems to make the club livable for the dancers and revelers. The actual fighting area was only demarcated by white-painted lines on the concrete, areas scratched, bloodied, and otherwise scuffed away from previous fights.

It made Genji itch to get back into the pilot's seat again, feel the ripple of muscles not his own, power coiled in every limb not his own, but under his control.

Why the hell did I ever let it fall to the side?

He wandered over to the Shimada pilots, keeping out of their way and flirted and chatted to pass the time, winking as he blew a kiss to the pilot in her biotech. "For good luck," he grinned when she snapped her jaw at him, sauntering back to the crowd and picked a spot in the front row against a column, crossing his arms and leaned back against it with a grin as the proceedings began.

This particular section was hosted by an AI, building suspense and intrigue, while omnics went around and collected bets and money - some chips well into the hundreds of thousands, Genji knew.

He usually came with a few million or so to blow on a few rounds, just for the hell of it. It wasn't as if that kind of money would make a dent in the Shimada fortune, anyway; it was much closer to pocket change.

The first fight was between the Shimada pilot, and some unknown pilot from someone Genji hadn't cared to pay attention to. Especially since their biotech was essentially an overgrown tiger without fur.

Naturally, his family's pilot won. She was flawless in her control of the hybrid creature - some kind of lion-scorpion-snake mix with three tails - and smooth in her execution of the other biotech, quite literally.

Genji grinned and applauded, laughing when she turned to him and roar-hissed her victory at him, tossing her head as she trotted out of the rink for repairs.

Max came up two rounds later, and handled it fairly well against another no-name pilot, though it was painful to see how ugly and primitive his biotech was, the rough and jerky movements that came with older - and currently cheaper - models that hadn't yet considered incorporating the pilot's DNA for a smoother transition, smoother control, easier acceptance of the new body by the brain.

And a Shimada-exclusive patent, that required other companies pay dearly to use in their designs. Naturally, most left it out, as a result, or researched other ways to make the transition and linking smoother, faster.

Jesse came up next, with a very obviously werewolf-influenced biotech called Deadeye, with its lupine features and thick, shaggy fur, and muscled fore and back legs, switching fairly easily between quadrupedal and bipedal once he stepped into the rink, gouging a mark into the nearest column as he was introduced by the AI.

Dramatic. Anija would like you, Genji grinned, eyes glowing a bright green when Jesse met his gaze and growled, then howled a long, haunting note that echoed in the basement. It was met with cheers and whistles, Genji grinning at the way Jesse played the crowd, pacing the edges of the rink before stalking back to his corner with a snap and a snarl.

He vaguely remembered the werewolf shape from their own convention a month or so ago, though admittedly Genji's focus had been more on getting high and staying out of his brother and father's way than watching the proceedings.

Genji wouldn't be making that mistake a second time.

Jesse's opponent was bipedal, scaled with long, clawed hands and an awkwardly long face that ended in a beak. Genji remembered going against a beaked biotech before - their bites hurt, and much worse if the beak was not only sharp, but had the muscles to pack a bite force equivalent to that of a cephalopod or a certain type of Old Earth finch, now long extinct on a more natural scale of things.

McCree's opponent hissed and whistled, shaking its head and opened its maw wide in another deep hiss, jaws snapping shut.

Oh, this one's got a bite on it, Genji grinned, eyes wide, heart racing.

He could only imagine Jesse felt the same, watching him lunge as soon as the AI shut off their hologram to start the fight, narrating eagerly from the speakers around the space. Jesse was fast, but his attacks relied on power, unpredictability, confusing his opponent into making a mistake, or underestimating him.

As it turned out, Jesse was quite good at hiding just how comfortable he was in the pilot seat, goading his opponent into chasing him, taking wild swings and slashes and awkward bites that looked like afterthoughts.

Genji stumbled back when they rushed to his pillar, ducking out of the way and grinned in delight when his cheek was sprayed with biotech blood, the spectators beside him gushing and chittering about it. He was lucky, tasting the copper on his tongue when he licked his lips.

He thought it was Jesse's, and judging by the snaps and snarls, and a new, long gash in Deadeye's back leg and over his shoulder, it probably was.

The fight raced on after that, Jesse driving his opponent back blow for blow, roaring in victory before wrapping his hands around the creature's neck, and twisted hard. The other went down with a pained hiss, twitching and jerking on the floor while Jesse howled and sent shivers down Genji's spine, then tore out his opponent's throat.

He was good. He was very good.

And so the evening went on, Jesse returning two more times, along with his friend Max. Genji thought he was better off leaving the piloting to others, with how much difficulty he had in controlling his biotech, the rough and mechanical movements much too slow to keep up.

It was a joke, really, and one that didn't look like it was going to end well, if Genji counted the security closing in any kind of sign.

Did he even know what he was getting into, or did he just tag along and hope for the best? Genji wondered, the fight over in seconds with Max's biotech just about ruined.

"Bring me the pilot."

Genji grimaced, looking up to see the fight boss stride down from his seat, snapping his fingers.

"He didn't come with a mechanic," someone called.

"Unlink him, then bring him."

Genji bared his teeth, looking around for Jesse. This could end sort of badly for Max, or horribly for all three of them. He kind of owed Jesse a favor, for letting Genji live in his apartment, after all.

He watched as Max was brought back, confused and disoriented as he was supported by security, and taken away. The AI flickered to life across from the scene, speaking quickly and glibly to refocus the attention of the patrons on the closing ceremony.

Shit, Genji thought, spotting Jesse as he staggered out from his own piloting cubicle, looking around for Max.

Genji strode to his side, pushing through the crowd and caught his wrist. "Don't; you'll make it worse."

"Get off," Jesse growled. "I gotta help him!"

"You can't! They'll take you down with him," Genji hissed back, stumbling back when Jesse pushed him off, looking around for Max.

Genji could see him fairly clearly from this angle, Max looking confused by the questions, and giving what looked like increasingly unsatisfactory answers. There was only one way that was going to end, and Genji wasn't going to let Jesse suffer for it, too.

"There he is," Jesse breathed, finally seeing him and started towards them, just as Max was shoved to his knees, a rough hand fisting his hair and holding his head steady for the boss.

"Don't! They'll kill you too. Real death, through the stack!" he hissed into Jesse's ear, snatching his arm and leaned into the hold, the higher clack of a suppressed gunshot making both of them tense and freeze. "Oh shit."

"Fuck off, Shimada. All deaths on the ground're real deaths. We can' afford to fuck around with sleeves an' shit like you princes in your goddamn palaces," Jesse hissed back, all teeth and snarls but didn't push on, and instead backed up to leave with a last, pained look on his face.

Genji threw a final glance at the carnage, even as it was being cleaned up, then turned to stride after Jesse.

Apparently he'd decided that they were walking home, instead of taking a cab like they had on the way. Could Jesse only afford it one way? Genji had to admit he didn't even know how much the fare might be.

"What was that about, anyway?" he asked. "He's just some guy you knew. And he had to have known the risks going in, same as you."

Genji stopped and backed up a few steps when Jesse rounded on him, all scorching, dry rage and blistering hurt.

"Jus' someone I knew?! He was my goddamn friend, Genji," he growled. "My friend. I told 'im I was gonna look out fer'im here, and I couldn't/"

"A friend...?" Genji repeated softly, blinking and frowning. It was the first thing he latched on to, the illogic of looking after someone else in fights like those something Genji wouldn't even try to get into.

"Yeah, darlin'. A friend," Jesse repeated, cursing in Spanish and turned on his heel.

Genji only felt his confusion grow, hurrying to keep up with him. "But friends aren't, they don't..." he tried, shaking his head as he struggled to find words. "Friends are only there for the good time and the information they can get off you, the benefits you give. Why -"

"Goddammit, Genji, those aren't friends! They're assholes and vultures!" Jesse snapped, rounding on him again. "Friends give a shit about you, about what you're feelin', how you're doin', an' they keep yer secrets, jus' the same way you care about them an' y'keep their secrets."

Genji gaped, struggling to understand the depth of that. "Just, because?" he asked.

But clearly it had been the wrong thing, because Jesse burst into colorful Spanish and gestured wildly, a few times at Genji, before snarling. "Make yer own way home, Shimada. I need ta be alone. Fucking Meths," he finished, stalking off.

Genji stared after him, too shocked and lost and confused to even think to follow.

Friends were... supposed to care... about you? Just because? And friends had to make promises that were impossible to keep, and feel... bad... about them afterwards?

He shook his head, struggling to reconcile what Jesse had said to his own experiences with his friends, and eventually turned and walked in the opposite direction, pulling out his com for directions to the monastery.

"And so he said friends care about each other, and. I don't understand, Zenya," Genji finished quietly, slumping on the bench where they sat. "If that's true, if what he said is true, then, then I don't have any friends. I've never had friends."

It was quiet for a moment before Zenyatta laid a careful palm on Genji's shoulder. "Friends are meant to be people in your life who care for you, support you, and who expect nothing in return, but for whom you would do the same. If, I may be so bold as to say so, in this moment, I must confess that I have come to care for you, Genji. Not romantically, or even amorously, as you may expect," he said, chuckling softy and not unkindly at the way Genji's eyes widened. "And I wish the best for you, for you. I know that some of our conversations are more along the lines of what one may expect in a more rigid and professional setting, but I have also found myself growing to enjoy your company, regardless of the content of our conversations. I look forwards to seeing you, and it pains me to see you conflicted, Genji. I wish I could do more than only offer words in comfort."

"Your presence is often soothing enough, Zenya," Genji said softly, sighing heavily and leaned his head on the monk's shoulder. "You've been kinder to me than I expected, and maybe deserve, after everything I have put so many people through. It's something I deeply appreciate, and I just... like being around you. It feels... safe? Comfortable?"

Zenya hummed beside him, an arm coming around to wrap around his shoulders, long fingers combing gently through Genji's hair. "In light of that, Genji," he started softly, voice lilting and serene, "would you say that we are friends?"

Genji straightened again, jaw slack as he turned to stare at Zenyatta.

Friends?

He supposed they didn't have any other arrangement. Genji didn't exactly do anything other than sometimes tell Zenyatta about his day and inquire about the monk's day most of the time. The sage advice was usually just Zenya seeing things from a different perspective.

Zenya watched, patient, doe eyes soft but alert, and in that moment, far too soul-piercing for Genji's raw nerves.

His jaw worked, before he stood and fled, Zenya's calls falling on deaf ears even after he was out on the street.

Genji needed release. Needed escape. Needed to not think, to not know that his entire world was falling apart, everything he'd ever thought he'd known crumbling into dust and ash around him, ears ringing in the silence of the streets, bones aching without the pounding of the bass to move him.

There was only one place to go to forget, for a little while, and Genji knew exactly where to go.