xXXTARAXXx: yeah she's missing idk if she ran away or somethin
reply Aetherion13: anyone break into ur house recently?
reply CyanQuartz: why would she run away?
reply xXXTARAXXx: she does that alot
reply Dragonofelder: one word: KIDNAPPING
reply WynterAsiuuki: i don't understand, why would she run away
reply xXXTARAXXx: I DONT KNOW
reply houzwa: for how long has she been missing
reply Aetherion13: she said a day
reply xXXTARAXXx: a day, shes been gone since last night
reply Dragunz: she's like your friend or something?
reply xXXTARAXXx: kinda
reply Abythm: where do you usually find her
reply ninetails927: does she have any family?
Tara scowls at her holoboard. A family? She has no idea if Hana Song has a family. Or even any friends, for that matter.
Amin is beside herself with worry. The Omnic paces in the living room, carbon fiber feet thudding hard against the hardwood floor. "What do you think happened to her? What do you think we did wrong?" Her voice hums softly, mechanically. "Oh, I hope she's alright."
Unlike Amin, Tara is not worried. Tara is fucking angry. There's rush of heat to her head, her fingers curling against the holoboard. I warned you. I warned you this would happen.
"We didn't do anything wrong," she growls, slamming the holoboard shut. New notification messages ding, ding, ding through the air; undoubtedly bringing her strange and completely unfounded theories about kidnappings and robberies.
In truth, Tara already knows what happened to Hana Song. The girl had run away again- possibly afraid of whatever is chasing her, whether it's an actual person or just consequences of past actions.
Like she suspects, the Internet offers a vague sense of panic in lieu of helpful advice. Probing questions that make Amin doubt what little she had known about the girl, and make her realize just how much she didn't understand. Oh, well. It was worth a try.
Amin wrings her hands, metal digits on a hard plastic balljoint that rotate back and forth. The motion is so painfully human to Tara; it hurts to watch the calm Omnic like this. Her own mother is suffering because of some idiot girl. Anger flares unbidden within her once again, and she grinds her knuckles against the hardened skin of her palm, imagining what she will do to Hana if or when the girl comes back.
The girl's smug, smug face. That little fucker-
But if she harms the girl, Amin would grow even more upset. She heaves a breath and pretends to ankle-kick an imaginary dummy, because God she could use some ankle-kicking right about now.
"I wonder why she left," says Amin regretfully. Her optics flash in Tara's direction. "She seemed to be in such trouble, too."
"She was the trouble itself," mutters Tara. It's okay, don't think about it. Hana was not the first stray Amin took in, only to have them run. Hopefully she'd be the last.
Tara tries to distract Amin. "When's Kyung going to get here with the jajangmyun? I ordered it like forever ago. I'm literally starving."
"It should be here soon," the Omnic says vaguely as she stares out the window. Somehow, there is something forlorn about the look, despite the lack of emotions on her blank faceplate.
Tara softens. "I ordered two, just in case, she, uh. Comes back," she offers. Amin makes a small noise of gratitude, but remains motionless.
Who the hell cares about Hana? Tara certainly doesn't. I don't care, I don't care at all. She doesn't like it when Amin takes someone in- in never ends well for their little family. She's so weary, so weary of seeing Amin like this.
Of course she ran. They always run. The only one who hasn't run away is Tara.
(Shouldn't that be enough for Amin?)
Is it selfish to think so? Yes. But Tara is tired. She thinks that there is such a thing as having too much compassion, of being too kind to others. All Amin has done by taking in so many lost ones is burden herself and Tara, and she's always left heartbroken at the very end.
Tara curses under her breath and leans back into the softness of the couch. Why do you keep trying to take in more and more kids?
She curses Hana, who is a coward. She'd thought the girl would be different from the others, and would fucking stay.
She curses herself. Tara is as much of a coward as Hana. She's frightened. Frightened of being replaced.
(Am I not enough?)
Ding-dong.
The jajangmyun. Tara calls to Amin, "I'll go get it."
She makes her way over to the door, grabbing the credit card on the way from the kitchen counter. And when she opens the door, she's greeted by a casual "Howdy, miss." The delivery guy isn't Kyung like it usually is. He's dressed strangely, with a red shawl draped over his shoulders and a stupid-ass hat on his head.
Tara snaps at the cowboy, impatient, while she waves the credit card. "Do you take debit-"
Wait.
'Howdy, miss?'
Cowboy?
"I need to go back," says Hana firmly.
They're standing on the edge of the sidewalk, which is bustling with morning traffic. Between the honking taxis and McCree's outfit, Hana can't decide which is more distracting.
"You can't," replies McCree with equal firmness. The cowboy attracts stares from all directions, mostly from children who don't yet realize the impoliteness of staring. McCree doesn't seem to mind though, and tips his hat at one little girl, sending her squealing to her gawking mother in delight.
"They took me in. I can't just run." She can imagine how angry Tara will be- oh, yes, Hana is in for a beating. One that she deserves, this time. But the last thing she wants to do is prove the girl right by fleeing from the scene- being the coward Tara had so angrily called her.
"If I'm going to go, I'm going to do it properly. Gonna say goodbye."
McCree's red-draped shoulders droop slightly. "Oh, Hana."
There's blatant exasperation in the American's voice. The hat overshadows his face again, leaving his eyes glinting in the dark.
Why does he not understand the simple concept Hana is so eagerly presenting? One does not simply leave their host's house without warning. Even Hana knows that.
"Please, thank you, hello, and goodbye. Goodbye is more important than hello," says Mother, gently ruffling Hana's hair. "To know when things end is all you need."
The memory is shoved aside with vehement force. "McCree-nim, please."
He falters. She can't help but admit he cuts an intimidating figure, what with his goofy but plainly confident attire. If he doesn't want to listen to her, he won't. There isn't anything she can do about it.
His drawl is slow, careful. "Song… you realize, yer puttin' them in real hot water by visiting them? If you want to keep them safe, best stay away, as far away as-"
McCree is treating her like an idiot. She hates that.
"I know," she interrupts. "You and I both know that Talon knows where they live. Where I've been staying. You aren't telling me to stay away because you want to protect them, it's to protect me. Which is totally unfair, because all they were is nice to me, and now they're going to get punished for that if you don't help!"
Her voice raises to a shout as she finishes her breathless, rampaging speech. Random passersby glance at her in shock. Hana doesn't especially care.
"Life's not fair." McCree doesn't talk with any of his previous bravado. It's not a funny little quote, it's a dead-serious, low, quiet drawl that Hana doesn't remember ever hearing before. "If they're gonna die, don' die with 'em."
The image of Tara and Amin lying motionless on the ground shoots a little pain right through Hana's heart. "They don't have to die. You're- if you're anywhere near good as Genji, then-"
"Then what? Talon will attack them eventually. They probably won't even show up while we're there- Talon can take their sweet, sweet time, 'cos once we're off to Seoul, ain't nothing stopping them." McCree posture shifts into something more guarded. Smoke wisps from his lips as he talks.
"Believe me. Yer better off leaving them be."
"You speak from experience?" Hana asks dryly, crossing her arms. He doesn't answer.
They make their way down the sidewalk, straying halfway between the path they'd have to take if they want to get to Amin's apartment and the path that would take them back to Juseong Station. A sudden desperation seizes Hana from the inside out, because she'd never considered that the last time she'd see Amin and Tara would be that cold night on the balcony, staring at the void of the sky.
I always thought I'd come back.
She tries a different approach. "Won't Overwatch protect them? Like, a witness protection program or something." That's how it always worked, after all- people who did good deeds that put them in danger got protected. Simple.
Evidently not so simple, because McCree starts to laugh, his chuckles rolling and hearty and filled with mockery. "Overwatch can't do shit. As far as I know, there are only six people running the whole operation right now. You think they have the power to-"
"Don't cut yourselves short," Hana hisses, though mentally she's reeling from this revelation. Six people? Holy fuck. Only six people in the entire damn organization? What happened to the others?
They're dead, DVA reminds her. Strike Commander Morrision, Blackwatch's Gabriel Reyes- both were buried long ago underneath a solemn gravestone of rubble.
"Don't cut yerselves short? Gee, that makes it sound like I'm still with'em. I'm not," retorts McCree. He drops the cigarillo onto the concrete, grinding it with the heel of his boots into fine ash.
"It's not that far away." She digs through the duffel bag, before retrieving the little piece of paper on which she had recorded the apartment's address and room number, in case she forgot. She holds it up. "I'll just tell them that I'm leaving and-"
"No." McCree stops the grinding of his heel. His spurs clink with the action.
Yes, spurs. Hana reminds herself that this- this strangely intimidating, tall, gun-wielding sharpshooter is still obstinately refusing to at least halfway assimilate into Korean culture by putting on a goddamn t-shirt and sneakers, and yet he has the gall to order her to turn away from the only two friends she has left in this world. She exhales, sending her bubblegum puffing up with the action.
It pops with a sharp snap. "Fine, then. Don't go with me. I appreciate all of your help, McCree-nim."
She bows to him, smirking but silently furious, before she turns and begins to walk away.
The cowboy curses. "Now, see here-"
As she resolutely ignores his protests, Hana knows that what she's doing is unfair. McCree doesn't have a choice but to follow Hana; he'd been the one to seek her out in the first place. On the other hand, while McCree's assistance is duly appreciated by Hana, she doesn't think she particularly needs him to be around.
Hence her bold move to go do as she pleases. He will follow. He has no choice.
She walks, and walks, and walks. People shift and part out of her way as Hana goes, and maybe that's part of the reason why she feels so confident. Yes, yes- everything can work out. She can talk to Amin and Tara, stay one last night, and leave them on a picture-perfect farewell. The mysterious stranger they sheltered for one day, gone with the night breeze. Just like in all the K-dramas.
Her daydreams are interrupted by the resounding unfamiliarity of the surrounding area. Hana had run in a completely random direction following the Talon attack at Juseong Station, and she's never been in this area of the city before.
But people make their ways around these places all the time. She fumbles with her bag. The address- she has the address-
How to read it, though? Hana pauses to glance at the line of numbers and Korean letters, and it's then that she realizes that she really should've gone out more often as a child. Because the 'address' is completely undecipherable to her.
Which is the is the street name, and which is the complex name? Or are addresses formulized around numbers, not letters? Hana squints at the paper, slowly, slowly feeling more lost.
The most she had ever had to do when it came to locating things was know where the grocery store was, which was a grand ten feet away from her apartment building. Putting her like this, she's completely out of her element.
Icy panic is about to drown her when she thinks, oh! I can just ask McCree.
After all, the cowboy can't be a complete idiot, if he'd tracked her down all the way from somewhere in America to Busan, in South Korea. Hell, tracking people is part of his job.
He won't tell her, though. He doesn't want her to go. Well, fuck. I don't have a choice.
She turns, slowly, the fire of her pride threatening to go out with every passing second. "Um, McCree-nim-"
A relatively quietness greets her words. People glance at her as they walk by, hooked up to earbuds and Samsung phones, clearly wondering what sort of name 'McCree' is. None of them happen to be wearing a cowboy hat.
Her heart sinks like a stone. What?
Like hell he's going to follow the pequeña muchacha to her death.
McCree watches her pastel pink form disappear into the crowd with a snort. A sentimental fool; that's what she is. Then again, most fifteen-year-olds are.
He supposes he can't really judge her- at her age, he'd been even more sentimental than she is now. If McCree recalls correctly, that year had been the one in which he'd first donned his Stetson. If it were fifteen-year-old-McCree in her position, he'd go back to save his amigos as well, even if he had to risk his own neck to do it.
But fifteen-year-old McCree was the same McCree that thought Deadlock would come back for him, after he'd been captured by Overwatch (or more accurately, Blackwatch.) Fifteen-year-old McCree was naïve.
He's not like that anymore.
No matter. If she doesn't come back, McCree is perfectly content to turn around and get on the next flight to America. He has unfinished business in Arizona, a half-dozen bounty hunters after him in Michigan, and a possibly-dead cyborg on his hands- Jesse is a busy man, and he doesn't have time be going after Hana Song. Even if all of this reformed Overwatch wants him to.
Still, he stays there, leaning against a shop window (to the dirty looks of the clerk). Just in case.
Even though he knows she's not coming back.
He'd spoke logically enough, hadn't he? And Hana must know, somewhere deep inside her, that McCree is correct. To put it bluntly, her two 'friends' are dead in the water and Hana's just rarin' to go join them. It's stupid, so stupid, but-
Jesse understands. He gets it. She wants to send herself off properly, and she wants to ensure that they're safe and still alive before she does it. An utter delusion. Because the moment Overwatch isn't active in Korea, Talon will take the two out.
In fact, McCree is pretty sure the only thing keeping Talon from sieging all of the places Hana has been is… well.
His fingers curl around his gun, cool to the touch even underneath his serape. Me.
Ten Talon agents per sect. That's how it usually is. The most Jesse McCree had ever taken on at once was three sects, back in the Siberian Omnic front. The three sects that are shadowing Hana right now, they damn well know what he's capable of doing.
His Deadeye's been ready for days. He's got enough spare bullets in his pack to supply an army. If they take him on, he can deal with it.
But this little girl?
Not a snowball's chance in hell.
In the end, it's that thought that drives him to walk to that address she'd showed him. A few directions from a couple friendly (and openly staring) pedestrians, and he's on his way to a steel-gray apartment building that towers into the sky like a needle poking into the clouds. Hana's patrons live on the sixtieth floor.
She's probably chatting them up right now. Should he interrupt? McCree hesitates, and then goes plunging into the elevator.
I could wait outside, he muses during the elevator's dizzying ascent. But what if she decides to stay the night? Then it'll just be poor McCree, standin' outside all alone fer twelve hours.
McCree may be a wanted man, and maybe he's killed and plundered and lied his fair share, but- but in the end?
He has morals. He follows those morals.
While he doesn't have the same soft spot for kids that Genji does, he has an unerring sense of fairness and what's become of Hana Song's life isn't fair. Life stacked the odds against her, and if McCree can balance 'em out even a little bit, he's happy to try and help.
Okay, perhaps happy isn't the right word for it. Obligated is much more accurate. Because this little excursion has been frustrating as hell, and sometimes McCree wonders why he even tries.
The cowboy stands there, thinking of guns and Talon and avoidance tactics while jazzy sax elevator music plays in the background.
After what feels like before, the elevator doors ding open. Room 237, the paper had said. He strolls on down the empty hall, watching the little numbers on the door plaques scale up, all the way to 237 at the far end of the path. Behind the door, he can hear someone's voice, dark and surly and unmistakably female-
"-oorirer nado nende, wen kerunsaramer-"
Ah, Korean. Typical. At least Hana will be able to translate for him.
McCree raps smartly on the door, brushing off his serape as he does. His pride stings; Hana had played her cards right and McCree had lost at their little power play.
Bold move, leaving me there. Stupid, but bold, I gotta give 'er that-
The door slides open, and he's face-to-face with a teenage Korean girl that's definitely not Hana- she's a full half head taller, and has short black hair that sticks up in curls. Bandaids sprinkle her face and arms. McCree can definitely tell that unlike Hana, she's an athlete of some sort.
"Howdy," he says smoothly, with a tip of his hat.
"Debituh carduh kajuhkayo-" She pauses, then stops to full-on stare at him.
Apparently Hana had not warned them about his appearance. He just smiles back, which tends to help with awkward first encounters. "I'm lookin' for a… a girl? She's wearing pink."
He doesn't refer to her by name, because he's not entirely certain how much these people know about Hana. The teenage girl still gapes.
Finally, she mutters in broken English, "Ah- wait moment, please-" before she swivels her head to yell over her shoulder, "UMMA! YUGIWABA!"
An Omnic appears from behind Tara, silver in color. Blue lights glow on its faceplate.
It moves with a kind of feminine grace, and its voice- yes, definitely feminine. "Ahnyunghaseo?"
To which he can only helplessly shrug, unable to answer. "Er- no idea what that means, I don't speak Korean-"
"No matter," continues the Omnic smoothly, this time in English. "I have the English library downloaded. What were you saying?"
Her professional manner puts McCree somewhat at ease. He'd been imagining the girl staying with a couple of hookers or maybe a gang, because normally those were the kinds of people to take in runaway teenagers without question.
Gangs didn't tend to be the best places for kids to grow up in. He of all people would know.
"I'm lookin' for a girl. Fifteen or fourteen, like. She was wearing pink."
McCree is regarded with sudden hostility on the Omnic's part, and confusion by the teenage girl. Her robotic voice thrums calmly on, vaguely reminding him of Athena. "Why… why are you looking for her?"
He's aware of just how suspicious he may appear, but it's not something he can help. So he drawls on, that charming smile still curled up on his face, hopefully doing something for his position. "I'm an…" …escort… "…a friend of hers. She was with me yesterday and then she ran off. Said she was coming here."
Speaking of which- why wasn't Hana coming out? Instead, she was leaving these poor folk to deal with him on their own. He frowns, more than a little pissed that she's blatantly ignoring him, when the Omnic exchanges a silent glance with the teenager.
Then- "She's been missing since last night."
"She was with me," corrects McCree, before the news hits him full on. "Hold on a mo'- she didn' come back here?"
"She leave," says the teenager shortly with a dark scowl. "Not come back."
I take back everything. Hana Song, you are a goddamn idiot.
He could go try to find her, but now that she doesn't have the transceiver, his GPS is practically worthless. Waiting for her to come here, to the address she had said she was going to, was the best possible option for him.
The Omnic catches on quickly. "Would you like to wait here for her?" she offers, ignoring the teenager's hushed "Umma!"
"That would help a lot, ma'am," says McCree politely. Another tip of the hat- he's been awful generous with those lately- and, just to make sure, "Yer certain she isn't here?"
"Hana? No, no she isn't," says the Omnic. She bows, a slight bend at the waist. "My name is Amin Lee. This is Tara Lee. You are…?"
"Matthew Mercer. Pleased to meet you, Missus Lee," he says with a grin. He liked her. Calm, confident, and polite even to the scruffy stranger at her door. Damn sharp, too, noticing his predicament instantly.
As for the girl…
"Kkujuh," mutters Tara angrily. She stalks off, rubbing her head.
"Now I'm no expert with Korean," comments McCree drily as he steps inside, "but that sounded mighty rude to me." She doesn't like Hana or somethin'?
"Tara," warns Amin. "Be polite." Her head swivels to peer owlishly at McCree, and her voice is clearly sheepish. "I apologize for her; she's not the most…"
McCree waves her apology away. "It's ok. Ain't no perfect teenager in the world."
Least of all Hana. Where the actual fuck is she?
Cultural Notes:
K-dramas- Korean dramas are exactly what you'd suspect- episodic dramas produced in Korea- but just like any drama, they tend to follow their tropes, and mysterious-stranger-with-a-dark-past-meets-the-protoganist-because-of-some-quirk-of-fate-before-vanishing is one of them, though the protagonist is usually a lonely single lady while the mysterious stranger is some random hot dude…
Korean entertainment, especially K-pop and K-dramas, is very popular in Asia.
Hospitality- Politeness towards guests is a biggie in Korea. A host is obligated to make sure the guest is comfortable at their home (whether or not they actually like them xD)
Translation Notes:
Amigos- 'Friends', masculine form. Hoo, we're breaking out la español.
pequeña muchacha- Little girl. The tilde over the 'n' in pequeña makes it pronounced Pe-ke-nya, as if someone snuck a Y into there.
Jajangmyun- Noodles with black bean sauce and vegetables that classifies as 'Korean-Chinese cuisine', that is to say, food that originates from China but is influenced by Korean ingredients. In Korea, Chinese restraunts are fairly common and jajangmyun is a popular delivery food, sort of like how people order pizza in the U.S.
"-oorirer nado nende, wen kerunsaramer-" – "-just left us, why that kind of person-" So in Korean, the subject comes before the verb a lot ('Why that kind of person should we care about?' as opposed to in English, where it would be 'Why should we care about that kind of person?')Therefore if it were an English sentence, it would be the less literal translation of "-just left us, why should we care-"
UMMA! YUGIWABA- MOM! COME HERE! (Informal)
"Debituh carduh kajuhkayo-" – "Do you take debit card?" Once again the subject (Debituh carduh, which is a direct import from the English 'Debit card') comes before the verb (kajuhkayo, 'do you take it'.) Also, it's a formal sentence (ends with -yo! Remember? :) )
Ahnyunghaseo – Works as both 'Hello' and Goodbye', in this case used as 'Hello.' Formal (ends in -o!)
Kkujuh- Fuck off, like from yesterday, but lacking the -yo that would make it formal.
A/N:
Hoo boy, who's ready for a lot of Hana's secrets to be revealed.
Jfb17 asks:
"Just wondering, what are the plans for the story as a whole? Do you plan on ending it once Hana finally gets to a safe place with overwatch? Or are you going to continue on past that into her training and beyond?"
That's a good question that I'd love to answer. Unfortunately, I can't without major spoilers, so you'll have to settle for a partial answer instead ^^
Hana is not going to end up where she wants to end up by the end of this fic. That's what sequels are for *wink wink* That being said, a sequel is pretty far away. I think we've reached around the halfway point with this story, so it's nowhere close to ending yet!
Thank you so much for all the comments and follows. I read all of them! Here's to many more chapters, and also holy fuck the Legendary difficulty on the PVE for Normal Heroes in the Insurrection event is effing impossible!
-Tex
