"One sure mark of a fool is to turn his back when he is needed the most." - Shimada Genji

...in which the two leads are introduced, they bicker a lot, and Cole finds out about Reaper's identity.

A/N: Just to let you know that they're all wearing their OW2 getups! Feel free to correct me if I've butchered anything Japanese (clothing names, terms, translations, etc.) I did some research, but there are so many different answers and variations.

COLE

With the arrow directed at Cole's face, he remained still with hands to the height of his shoulders, valuing his life. He couldn't help the somewhat erratic beating of his heart. It was as if the archer's amber-eyed gaze pierced right through his skull, and were it not for Genji, he likely would've fired. He came to realize this guy was the one responsible for the fall of that carrier.

The archer had an appearance that could only be described as regal. Stoic. Chin raised. Cole made an unconscious attempt of straightening his own back, but he didn't have much room to maneuver thanks to that arrow. His skin was pale - contrast to his dark hair pulled up in a grey band and trimmed beard - without any signs of corrosion whatsoever. There were greys in his temples and his age couldn't be far from his own. He wore a sleeveless chest piece, a haori in kata-hada style above revealing a dragon tattoo, and toraichi trousers tucked in metallic greaves. Gloved.

"Ani, yamete!" (Brother, stop!) came Genji's voice as he briefly crossed his forearms, stepping forward. "Kore ga tomodachi no Cole Cassidy desu." (This is my friend Cole Cassidy.)

He heard his name in there. Genji must've introduced him. Puzzle pieces coming together, allowing himself to relax, Cole's omnic hand lowered to his belt buckle. Maybe he didn't speak English or Genji didn't feel the need to involve him just yet.

"This must be that contact o'yours," he tried, removing the cigar from his lips. "Howdy."

The man's brows drew together even further. Then, without as much as a greeting whilst lowering his bow, he sheathed the arrow and walked past him. Cole followed the archer with his head before he cast a questioning glance at Genji who stood before him. He had to admit, not having the man in his line of sight made him uneasy. The time between each beat began to move towards its original pace. Turning his body ninety degrees to see them both, he again propped the cigar between his teeth before his flesh limb mirrored his omnic hand.

"Why am I here?" came a powerful dark voice with a thick, Japanese accent.

Genji answered. "Overwatch requires your aid."

"Kuso," (Fuck,) the archer exclaimed under his breath as he turned, his teeth gritted. "I will not be tied to another code."

He had a feeling this wasn't a conversation he was supposed to hear.

"I'd give you fellas some privacy, but this debris needs to be cleared - preferably before the next wave arrives," he said, shooting a thumb over his shoulder as he began to back towards it. "Keep an eye out, will ya?"

Genji nodded, but he pushed on with their conversation.

"Overwatch is not forever. One sure mark of a fool is to turn his back when he is needed the most," he said, as Cole genuflected before the dynamite close by to see if it was rigged. Anything to keep busy. To not get involved. "I know you have little love for omnics, brother... and it is time to stand up against them once again. Talon is at large. We must push back."

That's your brother, huh? he echoed in his own mind. Family drama, then. The Shimada sure had some good genes.

"Nihongo de hanashimashou," (Let's talk in Japanese,) the archer said, Cole restraining himself from expelling a breath of relief. He couldn't understand a word Japanese, so as it was clearly bad blood between the two brothers, this made it easier for him to stay out of it. It allowed him to truly block them out. Genji replied, resulting in a short dialogue between the two, and there was silence for another moment before the archer again ended the conversation in English. Informing Cole that they were done. "We will see."

Cole rested an arm on the debris. "Well, now... as you two seem to have reached a temporary truce - and I ain't one to look a gift horse in the mouth - I reckon we get this show on the road," he said, palming his thigh with his free limb and pushing up to stand. Cole dusted off his hands and approached them. "You comin' with us, archer?"

More silence.

"For now," he finally replied.

One-handed catching the earpiece Genji threw his way with ease, connecting him to the teams, the archer plugged it into his ear. He turned his back to them and walked in a straight line towards a building close by without stopping. It seemed like he didn't even see the wall. Cole was about to comment only to find himself dumbfounded when the older Shimada scaled it with such finesse - like an arrow from his quiver - as if it was nothing. His piercing eyes scouted the surrounding area for incoming hostiles.

Cole hesitantly turned his head, but a wary gaze remained on the older brother.

"So... the explosives?"

"Soon ready. Perhaps you should inform him of our purpose here. I did not have the chance to."

He nodded at that and Genji returned to work. Cole dragged his feet towards the perch that the archer was standing on and looked up. His balance was unmistakable. Tipping up his hat to see him clearly, his other hand settled on his belt buckle.

"Didn't catch your name there, archer."

The man frowned, but didn't look his way.

"Hanzo at your service."

"Hanzo it is," he said, grabbing his cigar. "Genji's kin, huh? You got one of them danger noodles, too?"

Hanzo grimaced and met his eye "...What?"

"Y'know, the green lizard-snake," he replied, waving his cigar for lack of a better word. Hanzo looked just as confused. Immediately after - when the word came back to him - Cole puffed a laugh. "Dragon. Whatever."

"Genji has spoken of the spirit dragons?" he asked, an expression mixed with both puzzlement and mild shock. Cole merely shrugged in reply. With that, Hanzo's eyes fell ever so slightly. His pupils darted as if taking in the statement, and judging by his reaction, it appeared absurd to him. Eventually, he averted his glace again. Then a mutter. "Fool."

He was about to bite back until he realized Hanzo spoke of Genji and not him.

"Right," he replied, not sure whether or not he was successful in breaking the ice. "Anyway... as I'm confident you've noticed, we're dealing with them Talon folks. Taking out their bases systematically ever since they've been targeting Overwatch. Now, we don't know why they're so well-informed about our operations, but we have our theories. The team cut the communications here, but they had a backup plan... so reinforcements will arrive at any time. We sure could use your help in thinnin' out the herd, but... I see you're already on lookout."

"Hm."

"Lookin' forward to seein' you in action, Shimada Hanzo," he said, remaining a few seconds to give him a chance to reply. None. If anything, he'd think he was ignoring him. With a sigh, Cole rolled his eyes and approached Genji. "Ain't exactly the talkative sort, is he?"

"He is not. Do not take it personally, Cassidy. It is simply his way."

"I can believe that -"

"The enemy approaches!" came Hanzo's voice.

...and they were back in the fray. Blew up the debris signaling the rest of the teams. A signal without the need of dialogue.

Back against the building, Cole drew his Peacekeeper revolver. He peeked to see what was ahead of them to discover one of Torbjörn's turrets firing the first few shots. The next was Hanzo's despite the long range - masterfully calculating the height an arrow would drop - and he was already impressed. Hanzo hit every shot with precision. Flesh bodies in the head and omnics in their drive cores.

He certainly wasn't new to this.

HANZO

Hanzo didn't know what he had expected when Genji gave him that call. Certainly nothing related to Overwatch. He had at least considered it, but in the end, there was no point. Hanzo did just fine on his own and no act of heroism would redeem him.

Heroism was a fool's errand. False. People save others to feel good about themselves and not by the good of their own hearts.

Last time he saw his brother face-to-face was back in Hanamura - revealing himself to be alive after many years of Hanzo believing him to be dead - and they had parted on uncertain terms. Genji was a fool to believe real life was like the stories Sojiro told them. He had told him the same thing, keeping him in the crossfire of his bow, which ensured he stayed put long enough to hear him. He would never release that arrow, but Genji was none the wiser. He again demonstrated his foolishness by stating he had hope for him.

There wasn't. Hanzo knew that. He had brought dishonor to himself and there was no redeeming that but in death. Dishonor by letting Genji get as far as he did and dishonor for turning on his kin.

He was unsure which one most affected him.

Hanzo was far from young back then, and in the end, he should've known better. It was his duty to lead Genji back into the light. He failed. Now he could barely recognize him anymore as he had matured an almost alarming amount. Their dispute had not only affected Genji's body, but also his mind, and Hanzo felt at a loss. This was not the Genji he once knew. The Sparrow. The playboy younger sibling. If anything, it was like looking at a stranger, and knowing he caused such a change - albeit certainly for the better - brought more pain than it did relief.

Battle having ensued, he fired two more arrows, eyes going wide as stronger artillery began to crumble the building underneath him. Hanzo felt it shift. It would fall within minutes, he knew, and thus fired one more arrow before taking speed to reposition.

He jumped down just in time for the explosion of a rocket launcher to silhouette his frame.

Feet hitting the ground, he rolled over his shoulder to mend the fall, momentum keeping him running without effort. Hanzo slid the remaining distance as gunfire was issued from both sides to end up next to this 'Cole Cassidy' character with his back pressed up against a small pile of sandbags. Hanzo's attention was back on the hostiles as he kept firing his arrows.

In his peripheral, Cassidy focused on his revolver. "Pretty handy with that bow," he drawled, reloading it. Deadpan. This was normal to him. "Remind me to stay off your bad side, darlin'."

Idle flattery. Hmph. This American is testing my patience, he mused, focusing on the fight. Cassidy was loud, talkative, and clearly disingenuous considering how nonchalant that last word came out. Carefree as if he took nothing seriously. Despite the bullet grazing the top of his hat belonging to the late 19th century - of all things - did he not even flinch as if he had no concept of danger. His outright friendly nature with Genji was another indicator of how far his brother had fallen.

...and then into view did the omnic the size of a building made its appearance.

"Fuck me," Hanzo muttered.

He heard a light chuckle at his side. "Hey, now. I'm flattered, but... at least buy me dinner first."

"No," he said with a frown, hand forcefully grasping Cassidy's chin to turn his head and face their opponent. "Fuck. Me."

"Now that ain't nearly as exciting," he said, grimacing at the omnic. "Guess we'll do this the old-fashioned way." Cassidy touched his earpiece. "Hey, Torbjörn. Got one of them sticky bomb dynamites on ya to cripple our large friend?"

"It's not rigged, Cole!"

"Leave it to me and give Orisa the heads-up," he replied, Hanzo's quizzical expression still honing in on soon-felled hostiles. It was obvious that the two had been working together for a long time, as with that mere statement alone, this 'Torbjörn' seemed to catch up on what he was saying. "Now!" With that did Hanzo see said dynamite in the far distance - attached to two javelins carrying one each - launched towards the omnic's leg. Cassidy had settled his gun on the top of the sandbags. "Step right up." Closing his left eye, he pulled the trigger and fired. "Draw!"

There is no way that he would be able to - he tried, only to halt in his thoughts. The explosions sent the omnic stationary and unable to use its leg further. Stunned, Hanzo blinked.

His gaze to him was fleeting. "Hmph. You have some skill, then. Surprising."

"Don't sass me -" he said, frowning.

Over Cassidy's head, Hanzo fired another arrow, the former looking ready to snap until he heard the thump of the felled omnic.

"Try to keep up, gunslinger."

Hanzo caught his offended look as he breezed past him to reposition. They had to move up. Get a better angle.

Ten minutes of fighting passed until they had cleared the area with a joined team effort - about to regroup before the base entrance - and Hanzo didn't get the chance to slip away. Nevertheless, it seemed as if the battle wasn't over after all.

(Japanese) "Brother!" came Genji's voice, Hanzo just about to fire another arrow at an approaching omnic. Teeth gritted, his attention - rage burning in his eyes - snapped to his little brother. Genji just shook his head. Eyes wide under tight brows, Hanzo stared at him as if he was crazy, gaze snapping back to the omnic as his bow lowered. "Zenyatta is one of us. He is the one who saved my soul. I owe him much."

His little brother had fallen even deeper than he thought. Omnics, of all things, were now Genji's allies. His blood boiled.

(Japanese) "You have allied yourself with the omnics?!" he demanded, separating the arrow from the string.

(Japanese) "Many omnics are good. Zenyatta is among them. Yet I know you do not believe that."

(Japanese) "As should you."

To say that he was tense was an understatement.

"I am pleased to see you and our team safe, Genji," the omnic monk said once within earshot, his tone metallic. Un-living. Genji bowed his head. "You must be Hanzo. Genji has spoken highly of you. I sense within you the same rage that once consumed your brother."

Hanzo's nostrils flared. "We are nothing alike."

"Please. Brother," Genji said, hand on his chest holding him back. "We have an audience. Set aside your differences for but a moment."

"Wouldn't count on it," Cassidy grumbled as he walked up, bringing the cigar back to his mouth.

Ignoring the snide remark from a man un-ironically dressed up like a cowboy, rendering all of Cassidy's criticisms futile, Hanzo suppressed a growl as he sheathed the arrow and made a quick turn on his heel to leave their space. Get away and avoid whatever they were to discuss. Overwatch wasn't his concern, nor would it ever be, and yet Genji's call clouded his vision. Of course it was Overwatch. He was a fool to believe anything else. Yet, with all the questions rummaging in his head demanding answers, he didn't go far.

How was Genji alive? Why did he approach him in Hanamura without explaining a single thing? Why was he so loyal to Overwatch? Why was he so persistent with having Hanzo join to the point that he would avoid telling him to get him there?

So instead of going far, he found still functional arrows, and ripped them from the carcasses of felled enemies.

He needed to think.

(Japanese) "Brother."

Hanzo was scouting the perimeter when he sensed Genji's approach. His own brows drew tight. Genji knew that word was enough to soften his fury at least a little despite Hanzo never admitting it. Since their youth, it had worked, and now he took the title as a painful reminder.

His response was simple. (Japanese) "Explain yourself."

(Japanese) "I will gladly do so if you help us finish up here."

Hanzo grunted.

(Japanese) "Your friends are perfectly capable of doing so. I am not needed. That much is certain."

His heart ached hearing Genji's response. (Japanese) "Yet I want you with me, brother. You still do not believe I have forgiven you. That my words are hollow," he replied, pausing. "Overwatch is a way to start anew. I know this. I have lived this. I wish the same for you." Yet it felt like he wasn't telling Hanzo the whole truth. "If it's not to your liking, I will respect your decision, but I ask only that you give it a chance."

(Japanese) "I would have little to gain. With every death, comes honor. With honor, redemption. Such is the only way."

(Japanese) "You believe I have nothing to atone for?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice making Hanzo grimace. This time, it was contained. Not like in his youth. "I have. Many things that are on par with your actions. Am I a lost cause, too?"

The lines in his forehead smoothed out, and he opened his eyes, staring ahead.

(Japanese) "No."

The hypocrisy was staring him right in the face.

(Japanese) "Then tell me why I should be forgiven and you not," he said, his tone soft. Because I should have known better! Hanzo was ready to snap. His autopilot response. The truth, on the other hand, was more complicated. Because I should have protected you. His silence was answer enough. When Genji pushed on, sincerity in his voice, Hanzo was brought back into the now. Away from the painful memories once again shoved deep into the back of his skull to lay dormant. "Return with me and I will stop hounding you about joining. You have my word."

So he did. He doubted it would convince him - staying for another thirty minutes or so - but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be. Then the promise of answers kept him nailed to the task at hand.

The Overwatch members left him alone. Hanzo was thankful for it. His only interaction was sharing a bow in mutual greeting with Kiriko. They had gotten closer since Hanzo helped her in Kanezaka, yes, but not nearly as close as she was with Genji. She had certainly taken training more seriously than his younger brother and yet that mischievous part of her fit Genji's personality better. Kiriko was like a cousin to them both, and as such, they considered her family. Hanzo had covered for them both on too many occasions.

Two teams moved in - the one he had been temporarily assigned to and the so-called Alpha team with their Strike Commander - while the rest stayed on guard outside. It was close quarters and would make fighting in bigger groups impractical. Not to mention the less noise. Hanzo and Genji, both trained assassins, were taking point. Scouting ahead. They didn't talk, their ears peaked, and in focus.

Within fifteen minutes, they reached some kind of control room, a big screen placed in the center.

The all-clear was given.

Cassidy, of course, was the first to open his mouth.

"Oughta smack my ass and call me Sally," he muttered. When he moved his gaze horizontally did he come face-to-face with a disturbed-looking Hanzo. Cassidy, his face a grimace, shrugged. "What? I've gotta 'appropriate' my language around you, too, o'high and mighty?"

"Hmph. Americans," Hanzo said, averting his eyes.

Cassidy kept frowning. "Well, aren't you precious?"

"Wait," Morrison said.

A flick of light and then the big screen turned on. "Well, Jacky-boy... it's been a while."

Although Morrison remained unsurprised, to his left, Cassidy's body froze solid.

"Gabe," Morrison said.