By this point, Hanzo had found tiny nooks and crannies throughout the two Overwatch bases he had visited thus far. Winston assured him he'd be deployed to most bases for official purposes, but he could see any of them whenever he pleased in his spare time. Hanzo had taken to finding the quietest, most isolated areas other Overwatch members rarely ventured, and huddling in them to avoid as much social contact as possible.

For the most part, it worked. He could meditate for hours at a time before someone found him, and that someone was usually Genji. Of course he knew the types of hidey holes Hanzo would look for.

One such hiding spot was in the upper levels of the German Overwatch base library. It was a rounded grand hall, four levels of ceiling to floor shelves stacked to the brim. As was to be expected, most agents that visited the library were quiet, there for business or some peace just like him. He'd often see Winston tip toeing around the lower levels, striving to not knock anything over. On occasion, Mei would sit at one of the enormous oak tables on the ground floor to read. Sometimes Zarya would sit at one of the enormous oak tables, trying to read Mei.

However, what surprised Hanzo the most was how often Genji frequented the library. As children, his brother had never shown much interest in reading anything other than comics. Now, he would regularly look up from his trances to see the cyborg drifting between the shelves, or sitting cross legged on a couch to read. Hanzo was still having to remind himself who it was he was looking at from time to time.

He had been pondering this one day, nestled between the sections of the library no one visited - sociology and the crossword puzzle books - when he heard the tell-tale click of Genji's metal feet.

Yes, he'd often forget that the metal figure was supposed to be his brother, but a warrior learned to recognise the difference between friend or foe through all senses. And in this day and age, it was useful to be able to tell one Omnic from the other. Light and quick, it was Genji. Heavy and slow, Bastion. A low humming of systems with no footsteps at all, Zenyatta. Destructive force of nature, Hana piloting her mech indoors after she'd specifically been told not to.

He opened his eyes briefly, glancing over the railings of the balcony to see his brother between the shelves on the third level. He looked calm, relaxed. Everything he'd rarely ever been before. Hanzo shut his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't want to see him in such a pleasant state, as it was more coming to terms with how well adjusted he had become. The Genji he knew before would hate the quiet of a library. He'd be causing a ruckus, jumping on the tables and singing badly at the top of his lungs just to break the silence.

Hanzo smiled a little. That endless energy had been as infuriating as it was exasperating, and now he found himself missing it. He could still sense it in that metal husk, see it in the way Genji moved. But it was muted. His little brother now exercised a self-control he never thought he'd see in a Shimada. Likely because it didn't come from one, rather it was the influence of the tranquil and pleasant presence of his brother's new sensei.

Hanzo settled back into his trance for no more than a minute or so, when he heard Genji chuckle softly. Had he found an amusing book? He opened one eye to look over again.

Oh. It was the cowboy.

Hanzo looked puzzled. McCree never came to the library. Hanzo was convinced by his demeanour that the outlaw simply couldn't read, and wouldn't be surprised if his notion was right. In any case, the big guy had such a boisterous voice and attitude, he'd probably be kicked out tout suite.

Hanzo shifted, just watching in mild bemusement as Genji spoke quietly to McCree, just low enough that he couldn't hear. The cowboy grinned, murmuring a reply and Genji chuckled again. Hanzo pursed his lips. What were they talking about?

The cyborg walked around the edge of the shelves to the next aisle, looking for something, and McCree followed him with his thumbs hooked into his pockets. Was he trying to keep his trousers from falling down? If the overly gratuitous belt isn't doing its job, get a new one, cowboy. The samurai shook his head.

Genji evidently found the book he was looking for, handing it to McCree. He had no visible lips to read, but he could see his green optical band flashing, and his shoulders moved with that controlled enthusiasm he was pondering earlier. Jesse nodded slightly, not quite looking at the book, but he reached out to take it as Genji chattered, his fingers brushing and resting over Genji's.

... and staying there.

Hanzo's brow furrowed, but dismissed it. He watched them talk, watched McCree's expressive face and Genji's body language. Jesse finally took the book, fingertips brushing the cyborg's again. Genji paused, hands lingering in the air, before drifting back to his sides.

When had Hanzo moved to stand at the railings?

He stared at the cowboy and his little brother, as McCree looked over the book with a bemused smirk, and Genji shook his head. And chuckled again. McCree looked up, and the two shared an almost aggressively playful grin. Genji then slumped sideways, leaning against the bookshelf on his shoulder, and Jesse tucked the book under his arm.

Hanzo wasn't sure why he was leaning over the edge of the railings like a hawk bearing down on its prey, but he wasn't in a state of mind to question it.

He glared daggers at the back of McCree's head, the icy cold feeling of mistrust creeping through his veins. When Genji made a soft laugh, reaching to brush as his helm fin, Hanzo nearly over balanced over the edge of the railings, staggering back and gripping the bars with a startled look in the face of a near death experience.

He shook his head. What are you doing, Hanzo? You have more dignity than this.

Jesse tilted his head as Genji was talking, and subtly brushed the long strip of fabric draping from the back of the cyborg's helm back over his shoulder.

Hanzo might have been gnawing on the railings, but that was his own business.