Summary: It's great that Genji's showing some maturity by offering to babysit. What's not so great is he's roped Hanzo into helping him.

Komorebi – the dappled effect of sunlight shining through leaves

sunlight through the trees

The hangover, when it comes, begins with an insidious headache radiating from his temples. It's bearable now, but certainly bodes ill for the near future, as such small aches tend to exacerbate over the course of the day. Luckily for him, however, training had been canceled that day, as a short text on his phone informed him shortly after its unlocking.

It was such a relieve to be given a grace period that he chose not to question it for the moment, and simply allowed himself to exist within the soft fabric of his futon, observed by none besides the crescent-shaped patches of sunlight swimming through the shadows on his ceiling, blending and splitting as the branches of the sakura planted in the garden outside his room swayed in the cool morning breeze.

Distantly, it became apparent to the heir that spring had arrived in Hanamura. He'd spent so much time indoors and occupied as of late that he'd failed to notice.

Sinking deeper into his pillows, Hanzo entertained the thought of staying in the entire day. Most of those who would demand his presence were likely still recovering from overindulgence at the previous night's meeting between the clan heads, which was treated with the utmost reverence, despite it usually amounting to little more than a reunion between colleagues and old friends. Once, Hanzo had prided himself on his tolerance and control, but drinking with his father's peers had quickly disillusioned him of that notion. As always, there was still much for him to learn if he was ever going to take his place, someday.

Groaning against the path his own thoughts had taken, Hanzo screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to fall asleep once more.

In truth, he should have known better than to believe that the universe would ever allow him rest. Shortly after, his door swung open with a force which slammed its knob against the wall, "Ohayo!" and a weight landed on his stomach, digging a knee beneath his ribs that drove the breath from his lungs in the form of an agonized wheeze.

Recovering from the blow, Hanzo willed himself not to attack the assailant, because that poisonous shade of green could only belong to the most troublesome delinquent in Japan, who also happened to be his younger brother. He was dressed in a black t-shirt, as well as a horrid pair of white pajama shorts with spaceship print. His spikes weren't styled yet, causing them to droop sadly over his forehead.

Genji's eyes widened briefly, flickering with what might have been the stirrings of an apology, before a sly smile curled his lips. He leaned closer, his breath smelling stale, but thankfully free of alcohol. "You look like you had fun last night."

Grunting, Hanzo shoved him off the futon, making him collapse on his rear on the wood floorboards. Seemingly unfazed, Genji bounced back instantly, reappearing above him before Hanzo could so much as sit up. "Come on!" He whined, wheedling the way he always did when he was about to get what he wanted. "We promised Akemi we'd babysit today."

Momentarily stalled in his attempts to free himself, Hanzo blinked, frowning, "I have no recollection of this."

Averting his gaze, Genji at least had the decency to look sheepish. "So, I maaay have promised on your behalf." He braced, expecting Hanzo to react poorly, but when next he glanced down at him, his older brother just looked… tired.

"Fine." Hanzo rubbed the bridge of his nose, before dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "Get out so I can get dressed." And just like that, Genji dismounted and left, though he thanked him profusely on his way out the door.

Hanzo remained still for a time after he was gone, staring without seeing at where he had been. In the end, though he searched for it, the desire to leave his room remained elusive. Even so, he dragged himself out of bed to swallow a few aspirins, then reached into his closet to pull out a blue fish-scaled yukata, a haori with golden clouds along the collar, and a pair of wooden sandals. As unwilling to face the day as ever yet resolved to do so, regardless.

Akemi, though a Shimada by blood, did not live in the main house, nor did she live in the communities reserved for cousins and distant relations. See, she was born from the union of a man who bore their name, and a woman he loved, who did not. By courting this woman of little known birth, her father had defied the elders, which ended poorly for him when his chosen bride-to-be took ill, but not before leaving him with a child, a young girl and no home to raise her in.

In the end, he was forced to return to the clan, and seeing as the elders value Shimada bloodlines above all, they allowed it, even providing Akemi with a home, a nanny, and a job in the kitchens when she was old enough. The kumicho took enough of a liking to her to make her an unofficial caretaker for his own children, but could do nothing about the mandate preventing her from ever seeing her father again, since thus was the price of his return.

Shortly before the start of her thirtieth year, news came to her of her father's marriage to a woman from a respected clan, and several months after that, a baby was brought to her home for her to raise, and it was that child, her younger half-sister, that Genji had sworn to look after for the day.

By the time the brothers had completed their hike along the stone and pebble path leading to the traditional 2-level house secluded in the woods, Genji was already regretting the existence of his mouth and any sound it had ever issued during his lifetime. This was all quickly forgotten, however, when a head of shoulder-length pearlescent black hair poked out from behind the sliding shoji screen door. The child regarded them warily, caution warring with curiosity.

Taking in her reaction to them, Genji didn't address her immediately. Instead, he gently traced one of the colorful paper animals glued to the screen, praising the artistry of the craft while the tip of a finger followed the arch of a purple giraffe's neck. Hanzo watched as he continued to coo over the animals, even letting out a tiny shriek of joy upon finding a bird that matched his hair. A quiet giggle interrupted his animated gushing, and he turned with a kind smile to see the girl standing on the porch, no longer afraid.

For a time, she proudly showed him her zoo, while Genji listened with rapt attention and Hanzo remained a polite distance away. He had no desire to scare her, and frankly didn't know how to handle children at this age. They were curious, playful, and such terribly impressionable creatures. Needless to say, there was a reason he would have never volunteered to care for them by his own volition, not the least of which being an irrational certainty that anything innocent within his vicinity would be tainted by the encounter.

Some mistook his avoidance of children for distaste, when in truth it was quite the opposite. And seeing the way Yui often glanced shyly over her shoulder to look at him, only to quickly turn around when he noticed her staring, made him wonder if he hadn't already managed to frighten the poor girl.

Forget what Genji said, this was a mistake. He was going home.

Just when he'd made up his mind, the shoji doors swung open to reveal Akemi looking harried in a business suit. Usually, she tended to prefer the barest essentials when it came to make-up, but today she'd clearly opted for a more professional look, as her lips shone a startling red, putting them in contrast with the smoky shadow and highlights framing her dark eyes and sculpted brows. In truth, Hanzo hardly recognized her.

She rushed out, gripping Genji by his hands while she thanked him for watching Yui on such short notice. He laughed breezily, waving off the display with that effortless charm which came so easily to him, and Akemi relaxed, her muscles visibly loosening as she let him go with a soft smile. "But, truly, it is so good to see you again, Genji."

"And it's not just me, either. Guess who I got to come with?" Shifting towards the lawn, Genji gestured with his head, outing Hanzo, who waved awkwardly the instant Akemi registered his presence.

She clapped her hands to her cheeks, a certain wetness appearing in her gaze. Then, forgoing the steps, she leapt from the porch in her heels, nearly giving Hanzo his first heart attack. He was already heading towards her to steady her when she leapt into his arms, wrapping him an embrace that told him of the wonders working in the kitchen had done for her limb strength. "It is good to see you, too, Akemi-nee," he managed with what little air remained in his lungs.

"It's been years since you came to my house, Hanzo!" She laughed. "I was starting to worry you had forgotten the way."

"I will visit more often in the future. I promise."

There was something more to it than that, however. While he doubted Genji had noticed anything amiss, now that she was upclose, signs of sleepless nights, hidden competently by concealer but not from him, became visible. Lowly, so that the others would not overhear, Hanzo asked, "What's wrong?"

Akemi's eyes widened briefly. She was facing away from the pair still. Even so, her mouth barely moved, "They're trying to take her away from me, Hanzo." Her grip on his arms tightened, the pressure becoming uncomfortable, though he refused to allow anything in his expression to give that away. There was no need to ask who 'they' were. The elders had always valued children born from approved marriages, and seemed to prefer keeping them close, as there were many lodgings located near and within the main house for those deemed worthy to carry the Shimada name.

Hanzo frowned, speaking quickly,"You know father and I would never let that happen."

Despite his assurance, the smile Akemi wore no longer reached her eyes. She gently placed a palm on his cheek, conveying something silently that passed beyond his understanding, before pulling away, becoming chipper once more as she returned to the porch to gather her baby sister's squirming figure up in her arms and kiss her many times on the head, before finally, reluctantly passing her off to Genji when the taxi arrived to take her to the castle.

Meanwhile, Hanzo rolled over a curious question in his mind.

If someone offered him a cool glass of water, but before letting him drink, warned that it might be the last of his life, would he gulp it down, refuse it, or savor it for as long as he could in the hope that the memory of its presence might ease the reality of its absence?

Hanzo joined his brother on the porch where Yui stood forlornly gazing after the vehicle carrying her sister. There was no way she could understand what was happening, yet it was abundantly clear that the girl's previous playfulness had waned. Genji rubbed his neck, muttering something about melancholy kids. When he took a step forward, Yui moved to maintain the distance, only to catch her sandals on the wood grain and trip, landing on her rear with a dazed expression.

Genji leapt on the opportunity. Appearing before her on his knees, he wailed, "Whatever are we going to do, Hanzo?" Nonplussed, Yui blinked at him, apparently searching for answers that Hanzo didn't have. "This angel's fallen from the sky!"

Silence stretched until at last Genji prompted him with a pointed look. Flicking his gaze briefly towards the sky, Hanzo mulled it over. "Get a ladder?"

For a second, Genji couldn't speak. "…What?"

"A really big ladder?" He tried again.

Genji let his hands fall to his sides, shaking his head. "Man, what's wrong with you?"

Meanwhile, Yui had grown bored and hefted herself to her feet, then toddled to the screen doors, where she opened them without any assistance, and shut them behind her. The brothers stared after her, unsure of how to feel. Finally, Genji sighed, "Was our hair ever that nice?"

Biting back a smirk, Hanzo reached to help him up, since he was still kneeling on the floorboards. "I don't know if you've noticed, little brother, but mine still is."

Genji stuck his tongue out.

Once they were settled indoors, which was simply furnished with muted colors such a grays and blues, but by no means sparse, Yui pulled her favorite movie out of a large stack, pushed it into the DVD player, then patiently sat on the rug while she waited for the film to start. It was then that Hanzo finally realized what it was about the child that had so disconcerted him before – she was far too accustomed to being left to her own devices.

Genji sat down beside her, his knees tucked to his chest, and just like before, she moved towards him at her own pace, until eventually she curled up beside him, mimicking his posture by drawing up her legs and wrapping her arms around them.

The movie, for what it was worth, was a Western animation from the age of early CGI, an adaptation of a famous ballet. The humans in pictures at that time tended to carry a certain deadness to the gaze, a disjointedness of movement that thrust them into the uncanny, which was likely why toys were so often the stars at the beginning. Hanzo watched from behind the couch as the lead, a young woman dressed in a pink nightgown, journeyed across a magical land with a talking nutcracker for a company. They were both so invested in the tale that when Hanzo ventured to ask if they wanted something to drink, they twisted around to shush him in sync.

Annoyed that he was, in fact, the only actual adult in the house, he searched for the kitchen to make some hot chocolate, since he'd seen his brother do it dozens of times before and was fairly certain he could manage that much on his own, at least.

The kitchen was plain, with a tile floor and the most basic of dun-colored counters, with several cabinets and drawers to keep the utensils, and a rice cooker in the corner. It became a matter of process of elimination for the heir to find the necessary mugs, as well as a plastic cup that looked like it could be microwaved. Milk was always kept in the refrigerator, so that presented no issue. In spite of that, he felt a sense of pride once all the ingredients were assembled. First, he poured generous helpings of the cocoa into the cups, keeping an ear out for any signs of distress from the living room - though it seemed that Genji had things under control for once – followed by milk, which he stirred until foam bubbles appeared on the surface of each beverage.

The last thing he did was place each in the microwave, turn the dial up to high, and wait for the water to warm.

What he did not expect was the near immediate light show which took place.

Stepping back, Hanzo stared in horror as the appliance began to crackle and hiss, its vents emitting an acrid smoke as lightning arced within it, melting and burning the interior walls. Quickly, he reached behind the microwave, ignoring a spark that singed his sleeve, to yank the plug from the wall, hoping that would be the end of it. For a moment, it seemed as though it was. Then yellow flames appeared to lick its sides, multiplying and growing until they completely enveloped the appliance. At the door, a cry rang out, followed by a blur when Genji rushed in with a fire extinguisher to smother the fire, accidentally hitting his brother, as well.

When it was out, they stood together in the kitchen, heaving from the panic. A glance passed between them, the tension in their shoulders eased…

And the fire alarm went off, startling both of them. Yui tore into the room, ignoring Genji's protests that it wasn't safe yet to throw herself at their waists where they could feel her shaking.

With a helpless shrug, Genji aimed the fire extinguisher's nozzle at the alarm, sprayed it, and in the blissful silence that followed, he and Hanzo gathered the quivering girl into a hug, which lasted until the tremors passed and sometime after that.

The whole ordeal tired Yui out, but when Akemi returned, it was to find the brothers sharing a pizza with her at the table, as well as a new microwave on her counter that they'd apparently reached some sort of solidarity over, because not a single one of them cared to explain what happened to the first.

Nearly a decade later, Hanzo would kneel on the floor of a shrine with a ceremonial wakizashi, and in a frenzy, slice off his meticulously groomed hair into choppy, uneven strands, before disappearing from the clan like a phantom, a man already dead.

They sent men after him, and women. People he didn't know and those he did, cousins, aunts, and uncles he could recall meeting only a handful of times in his life. The dragons consumed them all. If they knew of his secret wish, then it was plain to him that they cared nothing for his will, as they continued to sink their teeth and claws into the family come to kill him.

Once, he thought he'd heard a familiar voice call out to him, one he hadn't heard in ages, "Hanzo-niisan!" before the dragons erupted from his limb, scorching the earth with their fury, and the landscape, once swathed with assassins, vanished beneath a deluge of raging blue fire.

All he knew for certain was that for as long as he lived, he never saw Yui again.