A/N:
ryuujin no ken wo kurae - taste the blade of the dragon god
shinigami - death god
ryuu ga waga otouto wo mamotte kure - dragon, protect my younger brother (phrased as if asking for a favor)
wakizashi - short blade
hanashite - let go of me
...
Ryuujin no ken wo kurae!
Bullets whizzed past in short spurts, accompanied by the glow of Genji's katana as he charged the mass of masked men swarming through the gaping hole that was once the main entrance of Overwatch.
They must have detonated explosives, taking out the metal doors, as well as most of the front wall, to create this opportunity. Particulates of dust, gypsum plaster, and wood scratched at Hanzo's throat as he rushed onto the scene, firing off arrows to cover McCree and Morrison, while Genji struck down his enemies, the spectral maw of his dragon wide and hungry.
It had been some time since Hanzo had seen its rage directed at a common foe.
His own dragons stirred beneath his skin, eager to join in the carnage, yet he reined them in. To set them loose in such a narrow corridor, with such a volume of bodies, would be foolish. The risk to his allies would be greater than that to his enemies.
Additionally, there was no telling how Genji's divine protector would react when joined in battle by the very man who'd come so close to claiming his life. For now, the power of Genji's formidable strikes would have to be enough.
Due to the close quarters, Hanzo's arrows were taking too long to prepare, the instant between firing one into the chest of a soldier and plucking another from his quiver proving to nearly be his undoing, so he gripped two by the shaft, hands positioned as close the sharp, solid points as he could manage, and wielded them as makeshift blades, aiming for the weak spots in every armor, for joints, sides, underarms, and throats.
The areas that required lightness and flexibility were always the simplest to penetrate.
However, just when it seemed that their combined efforts would stem the flood, an imposing figure joined the Talon ranks, galvanizing them into taking advantage of their sheer, overwhelming numbers to rush the soldier and the cowboy, forcing them to devote the majority of their offense to the agents stepping over the fallen bodies of their comrades to block their way.
It cleared a path for the reaper, the shinigami adorned with a mask in the shape of an owl, its surface whiter than bone, with hollow sockets that absorbed everything, yet saw nothing.
It raised a gloved hand, presenting a round, blinking ball to the group. Hanzo heard Winston shouting through the communication link before a thumb slammed down on its surface, triggering a mechanism that sent a rapid pulse through the air. Though Hanzo raised an arm to defend himself, it passed through him without harm. A quick glance to the side revealed that the Morrison and the cowboy were similarly unaffected, yet something still felt off.
A man whose device had malfunctioned would not radiate such unbearable smugness.
Genji stood frozen, his blade held high, poised to strike in an aborted attack as his lights began to flicker. Once. Twice.
It was the only warning they had before his cybernetic body collapsed, crashing violently to the floor in a mess of dead weight and unmoving limbs.
He cried out, still conscious.
With Morrison and McCree still pinned down, it was left to Hanzo to rush to his side, as he obliterated any of the Talon operatives who tried to stop him with ruthless efficiency.
"Is this the most I can expect from your cybernetic pet, Jack?" Though Genji was prone and defenseless, the wraith landed a swift kick to the side of the cyborg's head. "Too easy."
There came an incoherent scream of rage from Morrison as he tossed a Talon agent over his shoulder, bent on plowing through the numbers to get to Reyes so he could make the man who could not die taste death once more. It was drowned out by the deafening roar in Hanzo's ears, the snarl of the dragon at seeing his brother treated like a pile of worthless garbage.
Breaking his vows, he snatched the green-edged blade off the ground and leapt forward, swinging it down in a long, powerful arc that would have sliced a lesser man in two. The reaper deflected the strike with the serrated razors protruding his gauntlet, but the force drove him back, giving Hanzo the opportunity to intercede on his fallen brother's behalf as he positioned himself in front of him, to wield his sword yet serve as his shield.
As the reaper recovered, the blade hummed in Hanzo's grasp, agitated. The dragon within sensed the presence of the one who had once destroyed its host, and recoiled, rejecting him.
The katana vibrated, the sensation traveling up Hanzo's forearms as he willed the blade not to shatter.
To demonstrate his respect, Hanzo bowed his head, murmuring quietly to the dragon god stirring within, "On this day, our goals coincide. You protected him from me, once. Now, I beseech you, oh mighty dragon, help me right the wrongs of the past." He snarled at blade's lack of response, baring his teeth. "If you truly value his life, dragon, then you will help me save him!" A disgruntled growl seemed to emanate from the sword before the vibration ceased, and the blade fell still.
The dragon did not favor him, but it would accept him, nonetheless. For now.
After a quick nod that could not begin to convey his gratitude, Hanzo ignored the reaper looming over him, preparing to strike, and turned the blade on his brother. In that moment, where Genji laid entirely at his mercy, his head lolling as he struggled to understand what was happening, Hanzo did not permit himself to think of their shared past, nor to imagine what terrible thoughts seeing Hanzo standing over him, poised to strike, would trigger. That would all come later.
The ground trembled as he called on the dragon's power.
Ryuu ga waga otouto wo mamotte kure!
And it surged forth from the blade, its translucent scales shimmering as its massive body followed its head. Twisting in the confined space, it burned, tore, and maimed any foe in its path, before curling around Genji, forming a circle of impenetrable defense, as though the cyborg were the dragon's own child.
The light of Genji's visor returned, along with some mobility, as he processed this new development with a mix of bewilderment and awe.
Hanzo huffed, satisfied that the dragon would allow no harm to come to him, though whether it would permit Hanzo's approach following the outcome of this battle was a different matter. Besides protecting Genji, he had set no other parameters to their temporary alliance, and so remained wary of coming into contact with the ancient beast, as his body still recalled the sting of their last encounter.
Cold fire raked across his back, syphoning his heat. It numbed him, stealing the strength from his limbs.
Behind the towering wall of his dragon, Genji screamed for him.
Gripping the hilt of his brother's sword, Hanzo straightened his back, refusing to wince or otherwise betray weakness as ruined skin and muscle shrieked at the movement, then turned quickly to deflect the claws swinging down at his chest, each wet and crimson with his blood. "Even after everything you've done, you still care for him. That is your weakness."
Reinforcements were coming. Tracer and Lucio's voices could be heard shouting through the communication link. They were close.
Soon, Overwatch would be purged of Talon, and Hanzo would have time to tend to his wounds. Perhaps, he would do so before checking on the boy. "Why have you not summoned your dragons?" The reaper continued, shifting tactics when mentioning his brother failed to bait him. "Is it because you fear they will attack your allies?" Hanzo did not reply with words, but the increased force of his strike spoke volumes. "You don't trust Overwatch, do you?"
Finally, the reaper's words cut through the swathes of his fury. Though Hanzo refused to disengage or give up ground, his assault came to an abrupt halt. "They have given me much," he spoke steadily, weighing his words, "though I deserve none of it."
For a brief instant, the reaper appeared to relax. "Then-"
"But that does mean I will follow you." Flipping the katana onto its side, Hanzo ran its edge over the wraith's metal claws, freeing the blade from the clinch and breaking the deadlock, allowing him to throw his opponent off balance, and strike. The blade's teeth chewed through armor, through black robes that dissipated like curling smoke, before lodging itself in marrow that decayed as it regenerated.
Hanzo ducked, yanking harshly on the hilt of Genji's katana in an attempt to loosen it, as it was as much a part of him as the dragon, a piece of who he was. In truth, Hanzo would have rather forfeited his own life than become the instrument of any further loss. It was a sentiment the reaper was only too happy to oblige.
Just as Hanzo felt the blade begin to give, an iron grip latched around his throat, lifting him off his feet as it choked off his windpipe. "You really shouldn't have done that," growled his death.
But it would have to wait. A cluster of spinning shuriken clashed against the reaper's gauntlet, spitting sparks. Still, he held fast to the archer, refusing to grant him any release, until a purple orb rolled against the tip of his boot, spewing an acrid smoke so thick it obscured the end of his arm from his vision.
Enraged, the reaper lashed out blindly.
Sensing the opportunity the distraction had presented, Hanzo shoved a sharp heel into the masked man's wounded shoulder, then jerked backwards as the hold around him weakened, eventually dropping into a crouch at his release. Though his strangulation had been short-lived, it was a relief to breath freely again.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hanzo caught a flash of bright orange. There was a tight grip his sleeve, drawing him away. Unfortunately, despite its panicked insistence, he could not leave alone.
Though he'd expected the dragon to hinder his approach, he was met with no resistance as he bent to heft Genji onto his back.
The three of them settled in a small alcove, finding shelter in a spot where they could still see and hear the lingering chaos left by their departure. There was a burst of neon blue light and lime green as Tracer and Lucio rushed onto the scene, though most of the work was already done, with the majority of the soldiers either incapacitated or dead.
The cowboy and the soldier had made for a formidable team.
Beside Hanzo, green lights flared to life as Genji's auxiliary systems came back online. His vitals were powered by an additional core, one which drew its power from a reserve in the event of a forced shutdown.
After a time, Hanzo asked after his machinery. "Are all your parts functioning as they should be?"
Despite the gravity of their situation, the visor concealing Genji's face was not enough to diminish the dryness pervading his tone when he replied shortly, "I am not a television set, Hanzo." Ignoring the jibe, Hanzo held out his katana for him to take, but Genji shook his head, opting instead to draw his wakizashi. "Hold onto that for a while longer, Hanzo. We are not, as they say, out of the woods yet."
"Is the cyborg-ninja-dude going to be okay?" The boy had fretted endlessly, fussing over the two of them until Hanzo had assured him that the wounds revealed by his damaged clothing were merely superficial. When the English proved too advanced for the boy to understand, however, he merely opted with, "It does not hurt."
Similarly, when asked about Genji's recovery, Hanzo kept his answer short and simple. "He will be fine. Death does not come easily to him."
The boy breathed a sigh of relief, trusting him instantly. It had been too long since anyone had placed such unwavering trust in him. He'd forgotten how overwhelming it could be.
A subtle heat emanating from the boy's wrist drew Hanzo's attention. Following his gaze, the boy looked down the see a gash in his skin, inside of which were wires, some cut, others crushed. Their severed ends emitted glowing sparks that further singed the surrounding tissue.
Not here. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
"Have you been enjoying the replacement we got you, Hanzo?" The taunting bellow dropped to a sneer, yet Hanzo heard every word as though the man were standing over him, pressing the barrel of a gun to his forehead. "It's a limited time offer."
A blinking red light appeared beneath the boy's haori, directly over his heart. It spread, growing larger and larger as its blinks increased in frequency, and the boy's expression twisted, turning from confusion to utter agony.
In all the ways that mattered, he was just a child, a human child, honest and innocent and good, yet the monsters that created him with the ability to feel were now forcing him to suffer for it.
He turned frightened eyes on Hanzo, silently pleading for him to save him. But there was no time.
Cursing his own helplessness, Hanzo pulled him into a crushing embrace, holding the boy tightly even as the heat emanating from his torso began to burn.
"It hurts, nii-san."
There was no time to save the boy, but that did not mean he had to die alone.
Someone grabbed Hanzo's shoulder with bruising strength, shouting urgently in words that held no meaning as they ripped him away from the boy, who reached out for him, shocked by his sudden absence, before the boy's chest burst with flames, and every part of him became lost in fire.
Despite the wreckage, despite the sound of the blast sting ringing in his ears, Hanzo refused to believe it. He continued to struggle against his unwanted savior. "Let me go! Hanashite! That's my brother!"
"No, he's not!" It was Genji. His prosthetic fingers curled into the tatters of Hanzo's clothing as he dropped to his knees. "Look at me, anija. Please."
He was frightened, Hanzo realized. Frightened of losing him. Abruptly, a wave of guilt flooded him at how close he'd come to abandoning his brother for the second time. "Even if his body is gone, you have not lost him," Genji whispered, so low Hanzo found himself straining to make out the words. "You have not lost me."
Time passed. The sounds of battle died to a hum. Unable to contain his shame, Hanzo bowed his head. "…I am sorry, Genji."
Genji blew out a harsh breath. It rattled like a death throe in his damaged lungs, but the relief behind it was unmistakable as he slowly loosened his hold on him and leaned back, allowing them both some space. "You have nothing to apologize for." He would say it as many times as he had to, as many times as it took for Hanzo to finally believe him.
He was about to suggest that they should regroup with the others, though he was no more eager to see his brother put in harm's way again than his omnic counterpart had been, when Hanzo brought him up short. "It should have been you." Surprised and wary, Genji stiffened. His brother did not seem to notice. "I see now what I was blinded to, then... When you and the clan were at odds, I should have stood at your side. I should have chosen you."
And hearing those words said aloud shouldn't have meant the world to him. Genji had moved on some time ago, after all. He'd put the past behind him, forgiven his brother's sins… yet there was an uncomfortable pressure in his chest as what remained of his ruined lungs expanded, possessed by the urge to devour gulps of pure, untainted air and never stop.
"You…" He stopped to swallow; his thoughts not easily presenting themselves. "Though I have long accepted who I have become… it lightens my spirit greatly to hear you say that."
After climbing to his feet, Hanzo stooped to lift a charred metal band off the ground. He traced the curves with his thumb, memorizing the imperfections, then placed it over his quiver. There was little else left of the boy to hold onto.
"You cared for him," Genji quietly observed.
"Yes." Moving fluidly, Hanzo notched an arrow, its deadly point meant for a single target.
When they regrouped with the others, Reaper and a handful of Talon operatives were all that remained of the former onslaught. Overwatch's defense system was back online, cutting off any hope for reinforcements. Winston was making expert use of it by triggering the hallway surveillance system's offensive mode, allowing him to assault the trace remnants with sprays of machinegun fire and short, rapid bursts of lasers.
In the face of his defeat, Reaper snarled at his enemies like a cornered beast, growling threats with a passion that verged on madness as he attempted to take grab ahold of Lena or Lucio, intending to take one of them down with him.
Until an arrow flew through his skull. Standing at a distance, Hanzo lowered his bow.
He watched without feeling as the wraith dissipated into a thick cloud of black smoke, aware that he would be seeing him again.
In the future, others would strive to use his past against him, but Hanzo refused to view the love he held for his family as a weakness. It was all he had left to separate him from the dark abyss where the true monsters waited, hungrily, for those who fell from grace to join their ranks.
A few weeks following that encounter, the Shimada brothers were sent on their first mission together since Hanzo's initiation into Overwatch. It was an infiltration mission. There was a rumor going around that some of the larger corporations in Shanghai were covertly sending funds to local criminal organizations. The mission was not to directly confront the objects of those rumors, but rather to find out if there was any merit to them.
Nervous, though he would never admit it, Hanzo paced the rooftop overlooking the city streets, going over precautions, resources, extractions points, communications, back-up plans, the back-up plans for the back-up plans, while his brother looked on in amused silence.
After a certain point, Genji clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry so much, anija. If anything happens, I know you'll protect me." Laughing at the shocked expression on his brother's face, Genji stepped off the balcony and into freefall.
Shaking his head, Hanzo dearly hoped his brother's technologically advanced eyesight would not be enough for him to see the faint rosy tint to his cheeks in the dark.
There were cars below, a busy street, people milling back and forth along the sidewalk. By all rights, the cyborg should have been spotted the moment he stepped outside, yet his stealth had improved greatly over the years.
He was waiting in the shadows, a subtle green light that only a trained eye would notice, and even that was likely because Genji wanted to be found.
Before moving to follow, Hanzo brushed the rough edges of the head protector encircling his quiver. Feeling his resolve harden into polished diamond, he rubbed away the traces of black soot staining his fingers, then took a running start, and leapt into the open air.
A/N: Well, that's all for 'lightning never strikes twice.' Hope you enjoyed it!