"The Shimada can rise again, if you so choose." - Akande 'Doomfist' Ogundimu

...in which Hanzo has a word with Mercy, is approached by Talon, and the two leads share a drink.

A/N: As mentioned in the 'tags' on the Prologue chapter, you decide if Gency is platonic or romantic :)

HANZO

(Japanese) "There is one more you should meet."

It was only a matter of time before Genji started to suggest socializing. Attempt to convert him into the fold. He had been in the process of showing him around at Watchpoint: Gibraltar when he stopped outside the med bay.

Hanzo had met Cassidy, Zenyatta, and a 'Hana Song' on his immediate team so far. The first question from the latter was if he was an arcade fan like Genji. Naturally, he wasn't. Hanzo told her that she shouldn't waste her time playing games and instead focus on training. He hadn't expected to go flustered when she suggested he might stop frowning if he tried. Genji had started laughing.

It was uncommon for people to be so blunt with him.

Dr. Ziegler was the only one left and she was the last person he wanted to meet. She was the one that had patched Genji up. The one who ensured that he could walk again. Hanzo couldn't even begin to imagine how many hours, days, weeks, or even months she spent to get him back up on his feet. Neither did he want to. The image of Genji's broken and bloodied body still haunted his nightmares.

Reminded him of the day his entire life began to crumble.

That said, it was a requirement for him to be able to communicate with all of them if they were to sufficiently work as a team. Coordinate. Know each and every member's name so they could be warned from incoming fire and more. He knew and accepted that, but in the end, Genji tried to take it further than that. He had somehow gotten the idea that Hanzo would one day grow to care as much as he did about Overwatch and everyone involved. It was a futile task as he had no desire to.

Hanzo hesitated. (Japanese) "Does she know?" he asked, Genji's silence being answer enough. So he suppressed a grunt. Formed a genuine excuse. "Then I doubt she would want anything to do with me."

(Japanese) "You judge too harshly, brother. I cannot tell you how she will react. Yet I trust she will understand."

(Japanese) "You are... close."

(Japanese) "Very," he replied, his voice soft. "This would mean a lot to me, Hanzo."

Every fiber of his being wanted to refuse. Spare himself the certain guilt he knew he would feel under her gaze. Nevertheless, he was there for Genji's sake. So he tried to adapt.

(Japanese) "Then let us get this over with."

Genji taking point, he hesitantly dragged his feet after, dread starting to form deep in his gut when he saw her standing further in with her back turned. She held what he assumed was medical records in hand and shuffled through them with features appearing tight in concentration. Clearly, she was deep in thought. Didn't seem to register them walking up at all.

His suspicions were confirmed once Genji spoke up. "Angela," he said, her nearly jumping whilst exclaiming something in - most likely - Swiss-German. Her glance shot to the ceiling. In response, Genji chuckled. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you busy?"

"There is much to prepare, but I have a moment. What can I -?" she began, turning to face him. Her body went rigid. "Oh." Ziegler's expression drew tight, and the moment she folded her arms across her chest with a raised chin, Hanzo had never felt smaller. It was like being under the scrutinization of a mother or sister-in-law. "I see."

"Angela..."

Genji's tone held a mild plea. Her expression softened, just a tad, but not enough to tear her eyes away from him. Hanzo didn't know what to say to her. So what immediately came to mind - his gut reaction - is the approach he took.

"Thank you," he said with a bow, a mild puzzlement touching Ziegler's expression. "For saving my brother's life."

The lines in her forehead retracted then. She closed her eyes tight whilst releasing a heavy sigh - let a hand fall to her hip - and kept them closed for a few seconds as she rubbed her temple with her free hand. By all means, she was conflicted. He couldn't blame her. Genji had indeed been right as she seemed to understand all the layers involved. Opening them back up again, she sported a tired look.

"It wasn't easy," she replied, reaching out for a handshake. Hanzo took it. Delicate albeit firm. "Angela Ziegler. It's good to finally put a face to the name, although I must admit, I had my reservations."

Thankfully, Genji knew how to lighten a conversation by bringing humor into it.

"Let us not forget that Overwatch took advantage of my situation."

She opened her mouth with a near-offended look on her face, ready to defend herself, only to remember that they indeed had.

"Hmm. Stimmt (True.) I suppose none of us are innocent," she replied, attention moving back to Hanzo. "Small talk aside, you should at the very least know I'm yours, Genji's, Cole's, and Hana's primary medic, so come to me if you wish aid. Doctor's orders. Having heard Genji tell it, though... seeking help is not like you. I had hoped he was joking."

"My life is not a priority."

A certain sadness was present in her expression, but she didn't get the option to respond.

Genji touched her arm. "We'll let you return to work. Let me know if you need anything. I am here."

"Merci vilmal." (Thank you.)

With a small smirk, she patted Genji's hand and they left her space. It wasn't long until they would touch down on their next mission. The Talon rescue needed legs to stand on before they could progress further not to make a mistake. Colomar had to provide them with more intel until they could take the first step. If not, said rescue mission could turn into a massacre. It was difficult to know how de Kuiper would react. Difficult to even know what approach was the best to take. They didn't know enough.

"I know that look," came an unfamiliar voice, Hanzo turning to see the older woman he had seen on the base. Ana Amari. She was one of Overwatch's first members. "Mending an old wound?"

They had just exited the shuttle when she addressed him. Hanzo had been testing the string of his bow. The others had dispersed to get ready for another base assault. So far, Overwatch had let him be, but he supposed his inner turmoil had slipped through his cold exterior. His drained self that he tried so hard to hide behind a veil of anger as keeping everyone at a distance was less complicated.

Something about her made him talk. "I wronged someone dear to me. The path of redemption is... trying."

"It's not pleasant. But you'll see it was worth it in the end."

"I hope so," he replied, pausing. "I did not know it was so... obvious. You must know how that feels."

"Oh, yes. Fareeha. She is my daughter," she said, Hanzo's gaze following her to where it landed. She was in dialogue with a 'Mei-Ling Zhou' and he could clearly see the resemblance. Amari had a thoughtful expression in his peripheral vision, and in it, pain. "I have not been a good mother to her and she has ensured that I know. Overwatch isn't something I wanted for her." His attention turned back to Amari. "That said, I cannot blame her for her feelings. Her anger towards me is justified. All I ask is time."

Uncertain, Hanzo shifted. "I am... sorry," he replied, his statement honest. Yet he didn't quite know what to say. How to respond. "I never asked my father his opinion of me. Now, he is beyond my reach."

"I'm sure he was proud, even if he never said it."

"How would you know?"

"Trust me. I know," she said, her smile genuine. "Showing regret and taking responsibility for past actions is proof alone."

Sojiro might've been proud at some point in time, but in the end, he wouldn't be proud of what occurred ten years ago. At best, he would remain disappointed for the rest of his life. At worst, he would outright disown his eldest.

Their father was misunderstood - he balanced safety and family like a master - and so he was the embodiment of tough love. At first, Hanzo resented him. He resented how Genji was allowed to live his life when Hanzo couldn't. As he grew older, he came to realize that Sojiro did it for their own good. That it was the only way not to end up dead in a ditch in their profession. Hanzo was taught to be strong so that he could protect Genji like Sojiro once did. Since he hadn't earned the respect their father had over several decades, however, it was a near-impossible task.

Hanzo learned that Sojiro was the only one keeping the clan elders in check. He was their safety net. Were it not for his influence - his power - Genji wouldn't have gotten away with what he did for more than a week at best. So when Sojiro died, all hope was lost. Hanzo simply wasn't feared enough. Regardless, that baggage wasn't something he was willing to share.

So he cut it short and gave her a bow. "Thank you."

She patted his arm and returned to her team. Not long after did the groups split up. Hanzo was yet assigned with Genji, Cassidy, Ziegler, Zenyatta, and Song. He supposed it was because of his connection to Genji and having worked with them once before.

Hanzo was unaware, but it turned out that Cassidy was the team leader. Surprising. His nonchalant attitude didn't inspire the feeling of being safe in his hands. A leader had to put his people first, and if anything, Cassidy seemed more self-oriented. Not much unlike Hanzo after he left the Shimada Clan. Thirty minutes into fighting Talon and he was proven wrong. Song had made a move to charge a bigger omnic and had to recalibrate her MEKA machine. She was exposed without it.

Cassidy was the first to block their line of sight to her with his very own body.

It had been a week since he started helping Overwatch. A week since his questions regarding his brother were answered. Every day passed like clockwork. Debriefing after debriefing. Mission after mission.

Genji introduced him to the team members, but in the end, they didn't get more than a word or two out of him if lucky. He just gave them a bow and left it at that unless they insisted on starting a conversation. Hanzo had learned much on his own volition. Observing. Aside from Genji and Kiriko, a 'Reinhardt Wilhelm' seemed the most in tune with his own views. He sought glory, but protected his people. Much like Hanzo's duty of protecting his people in Hanamura, it was Wilhelm's duty to be his team's shield, and so he did with honor.

He had come to respect the man on the battlefield.

Most of his time was spent either in the training room or meditating. Honing his skills. Harnessing energy for the next mission. Much like when he first arrived, he ate when the others had gone to bed, and trained when not in use. He simply wished to be left alone.

Regardless, it was strange to once again have a permanent place to stay. The various assassins sent after him made that impossible before. He had to move, never staying in one place, lest he risk being discovered and at a disadvantage. That's not to say he was free of them once out in the open. Every time a mission was done, he wandered off, needing peace. It was easier to get away when in the field. Watchpoint: Gibraltar was large, yes, but still a confined space. His absence had certainly raised professional concern until Genji let them know it was normal.

It was near 12:00 a.m. when he knew he was being followed.

Brows tight, he kept walking, this game known to him. There had been three shadows on the rooftops. He was used to dealing with one assassin at a time. Sometimes two. His heart picked up its pace. Hanzo absentmindedly took in his surroundings, considering his options, and ensuring that whoever it was didn't suspect him knowing just yet. It wasn't long before he came near a corner and could naturally slip away.

Hanzo swiftly struck a sonar arrow into the grass, mapping them out, and scaled the wall. Yet the sonar wouldn't last forever. He stayed low, and within a second, he fired his first shot. Electricity stuttered around the omnic as he did and it fell.

A female sniper touched an earpiece, assuming that she was informing her contact that they were compromised, but vaulted out of the way before Hanzo's arrow could land. The woman took to running. With a growl, he leaped across the rooftops following, putting end to the second omnic rising a weapon shortly after. Their tactics and movements told him they weren't Hashimoto. If anything, they reminded him of Talon. Perhaps stragglers from their last mission. He could do nothing but be insulted that they thought he wouldn't recognize them.

The woman moved quickly. Graciously. He stopped to fire another arrow just before she produced a grappling hook making him miss another shot. Hanzo didn't fail to see the appearing shapes, either. Two more. Then three. Their numbers left him at a disadvantage.

Dropping down from the roof, leaving himself less exposed, he avoided the bullets sent flying his way.

He lost sight of her.

One was felled. Then the other. It was only when another wave came that the sniper grazed his bicep.

Suppressing a pained sound as his shoulder was knocked back, he repositioned, fresh hot blood dripping down his tattoo. Behind him was movement. He spun, landing a kick at his chest, throwing him into the brick wall. Hanzo pierced him with a swift arrow. The second sniper shot missed by an inch and he slid across the ground to take cover.

From a building, three emerged, gunfire issued sending debris and wood splintering in close proximity. Its enclosed space had Hanzo prepare a scatter arrow that dealt with them. One by one, they fell, the sniper yet lost.

With the ones already down, he counted eleven in total. "Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!"

From his drawn bow, blue illuminated the dark streets, his dragons' roar emerging as they weaved towards his opponents. Obliterating them. Bodies were left in their wake and the sniper was alone as he called them back. Hanzo nocked another sonar arrow and tracked her down. He had her now. Nevertheless, he knew an ambush when he saw one.

She stopped moving the moment she was in his field of vision. Hanzo slowly drew his bow. Her back against him standing on a rooftop. The woman's sniper was lowered, and she turned, her hip cocked and chin raised. Her skin was a light blue. A confident smirk on her lips. Reports knew her as Widowmaker. It was clear now that she hadn't intended to kill him. Yet it was the large silhouette - not far ahead - that gained his attention. The head of Talon. Widowmaker, no longer posing a threat, had him redirect his bow.

He knew he was faster were either to act.

Doomfist stepped out of the shadows. "I am impressed. I have seen my share of skill. Yet none has matched yours," he said, his tone genuine. He stopped at a respectable distance. Bowed before him. "Shimada Hanzo. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I hope there are no hard feelings about the test I evoked upon you. Forgive me for taking precautions."

"Is this how you start every conversation?"

"Only when I have the best interest of dangerous people in mind. Killing you would do this world a disservice. Men like you are needed."

Hanzo scowled lightly. "Spare me from idle flattery. What do you want?"

"We are alike, you and I, and I know that you are capable of great things," he replied, Hanzo lowering his bow just slightly. Relaxing his arm. Yet he knew he would be the quickest draw. "Ten years of being constantly hounded by assassins and coming out victorious is no easy feat. I came into this conversation prepared, and yet, you maintain the upper hand. I have great respect for the Shimada Clan and it is nothing sort of unfortunate what happened to it. To your home. It would have flourished under your leadership had Overwatch not interfered.

"I have lost much thanks to the power that be as have you. We both know that only through conflict do we evolve. The strong defeats the weak and shape our future," he added, connecting his hands behind his back. Then Doomfist raised his chin. Drove his point forward. "The Shimada can rise again, if you so choose."

"There is nothing to that name but pain."

"Pain... and a sleeping dragon. Wake him up."

He knew what Doomfist was getting at "...and I suppose you are offering to do so."

"Overwatch is a means to an end. This is not where your loyalties lie. I infer that your presence here is for... personal reasons," he replied, Hanzo's jaw clenching. Genji. "There is a place for him in Talon, too." Doomfist bowed. "Think on my offer."

He could tell that the man was genuine. That they, at least at this point, didn't want him dead. He wasn't in danger. So when Doomfist took his leave, Widowmaker following, he allowed it. Not to mention that he had taken note of the approaching silhouettes. Back at Gibraltar, he had overheard Orisa call Doomfist a coward, and so this was unsurprising.

Widowmaker had the last word. "Adieu, chéri." (Goodbye, darling.)

The one thing that Doomfist was right about was that Hanzo's loyalties didn't lie with Overwatch. Parting on civil terms left him with more options. He was relatively neutral to both giving him alternatives.

Adrenaline having passed, his arm started prickling. Hanzo began to make his way back. To prevent infection, he reached for the grey band in his hair, pulling it loose. The hair tie beneath ensured he didn't have to get pestered by locks falling into his eyes. With a bit of effort - one side held in place by his teeth - did he have the band wrapped around his bicep. He cleaned the wound and hairband back at the Watchpoint and decided to stay up a few more hours before turning in.

COLE

Cole startled awake in cold sweat, phantom pain having swept up his missing arm. Now that was one of the things that he and Genji had in common. He sat, swinging his feet over the bed, breathing at an irregular pace. Hand clutching just above the elbow with eyes pinched shut. One could always go to the med bay for some painkillers, but no, not Cole Cassidy.

He 'toughened it out' considering it a form of punishment for the shit he'd done. If the pain got too much, and he wasn't feeling all that self-sabotaging, he'd rather drink himself to the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Punishment in a different way.

Reconnecting his metallic limb with a satisfying click, he waltzed into the bathroom and washed himself off. Gave himself a once-over in the mirror. Looked like shit. Drinking at 03:00 a.m. in the morning usually wasn't an all that good idea if they had a mission, but he couldn't decide when the 'bitter tooth' got him. Too often. He put on a solid brown flannel shirt, pants, and let the hat stay in his quarters.

The lights were on.

With a frown, he stepped towards the source, suspecting he'd find Hana and Lúcio having a late-night gaming session again. The perimeter was secure, so there was no reason to be a breach. Still, he had Peacekeeper firmly strapped to his thigh. Ready to fire if something seemed off. Thankfully, he was a quick draw. If it was one of the kids, he didn't want to bother them.

Kids, he repeated to himself in his head, begrudgingly reminding himself of his own age nearing forty. Rounding the corner, he didn't expect what he found. No one was there.

His frown deepened as he searched the living room and took note of the nearly shut sliding door leading outside. He reached for his cigar before propping it between his teeth, flicked up his lighter, lit it, and took a deep drag. A gentle - although not identified as cold - breeze sent shivers down the length of his spine. He crossed the room and pushed the door open. The silhouette, back turned against him, was unmistakable. Ignoring his pains, Cole pressed his shoulder to the doorway's side frame and took the cigar out of his mouth. His flesh hand moved to his belt buckle.

"Kinda late to be sittin' out here, don'tcha think?"

When a moment passed, he assumed Hanzo hadn't heard him. Just as he opened his mouth and was about to repeat his question, or at least rephrase it, Hanzo revealed that he had indeed noticed his presence.

"I am aware. There are fewer chances of interruptions."

"Pardon me, but..." Cole said, eyes searching the room behind him with a frown. "I saw the lights and went to investigate."

His response wasn't immediate. "I see. You have nothing to fear."

Cole looked back. Still facing away, Hanzo sat on his knees, hands bundled into fists on his lap. His eyes were supposedly closed and he could easily tell he was meditating. He also didn't fail to see that Hanzo seemed to have patched himself up taking the bandage on his arm into consideration. Cole couldn't remember him getting hurt during the mission.

That said, he didn't ask.

"'Fear' ain't the word. Just makin' sure the perimeter's safe," he replied, shrugging. Cole was about to put the cigar back in his mouth and leave. Nevertheless, he didn't get far. Hanzo was rarely to be seen - as if he'd been outright avoiding him - and so he'd wanted to clear things up. Might be his only chance. It was as if the avoidance was done with intent, too. Then again, no one else had seen him either except Genji. He took his word and figured it wasn't personal. "Mind if I ask you a question, archer?"

Just as he was about to take it as a 'yes, please leave,' Hanzo spoke up.

"I do not."

Guy had a talent for the dramatic pause.

Genji had told him bits and pieces of his older brother. Even so, Hanzo was still somewhat of a mystery, and an intriguing one at that. They seemed the polar opposites and it was difficult to imagine them being raised by the same man.

"This is all manner o'personal, so feel free to refuse givin' your answer," he said, waiting for a response only to find he gave none. Expected. Hanzo wasn't a man of many words. "All right, then." So he took it as a sign to push on. "None of us folks has seen you outside of missions. Been a week. Seems a lot like you've been avoidin' everyone 'round here."

"Is this a question or an observation?"

"Both? Would'a been nice with a confirmation, though."

"I do not wish to impose. It is obvious they do not trust me. I do not blame them. My presence here should not be a burden."

Cole frowned. "There's more to it than that."

"I know enough, gunslinger," he said, a hint of irritation behind the crudeness of his voice. "I will not have my intelligence disrespected. Do not waste my time with frivolous banter. I wish not to be coddled."

"I'll keep it in mind," he said with snark, eyes narrowing. Cole had no idea how to talk to him without pulling his strings. "They respect what they assume to be your wishes, Shimada. Thing is, you're kinda intimidatin' to most folks. Hell, whatever floats your boat, I s'pose, and it ain't really my business... but these are good people." More silence. It was even more suffocating than the last. This time, Hanzo didn't answer. "Fair enough. I'll leave you to your broodin'. Sure got better things to do." Then he offered his last comment. "Might wanna get that arm looked at."

He watched him tense, but said nothing.

In all honesty, he hadn't expected a reply at all. Yet that didn't prevent him from becoming somewhat agitated himself. The possibility that Hanzo found himself above everyone else had him miffed. He headed back inside to get that drink.

Damn rich folks, he mulled, but this wasn't his first rodeo dealing with one.

Cole pulled out a whiskey bottle and glass at the bar there. They always had some stored away. Seeing movement in his peripheral vision, he suspected Hanzo was returning to his quarters, and just minded his own business. Let him be as that was clearly what he wanted. That was until he stopped a few seconds after passing him, and to his surprise, shed some light.

"I am not good with people."

Brow arched, he looked up and put the bottle aside - glass in hand, cigar between his index and middle finger - Hanzo's back against him with head turned just enough to show his profile.

"What's that, Shimada?"

Hanzo's expression tightened. "The answer to your question. I am not good with people. That is why I do not... 'engage'," he said as if the word itself was offensive, shoulder now facing him - fully showing his tattoo display - and fists knitted. It took a lot to admit something like that and certainly for someone like Hanzo. "I expected that Genji had told you considering how much Dr. Ziegler knows of me."

After taking a sip, Cole shook his head.

"Not exactly," he replied, resting his free forearm on the bar surface. Cole gestured to the barstool on the other side of the disk with his glass. "Stay for a drink and we'll have this cleared up in no time."

"It is past 03:00 a.m."

"Schedule's clear tomorrow mornin'," he said, shrugging. Surprisingly, Hanzo hesitated. It took a moment, but eventually, he walked up. Cole couldn't hold back the mild smirk as he did. Progress. So he took the role of a bartender as Hanzo reluctantly got himself seated. Guy could make any simple movement look graceful. "Pick your poison."

He grunted, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. "I doubt you are in possession of sake, so what are the alternatives?"

"Actually, we are," he replied, leaning down to grab a bottle. Cole held it up and read the etiquette. "Dewazakura 'Oka' Cherry Bouquet. Genji's favorite. That sound okay to you?"

"It should suffice."

"I can appreciate a man who knows what he wants," he said, filling a shot. "As for Genji..." Cole pushed the glass his way - Hanzo taking it - and then the bottle aside leaving no wall between them. "He told me how you Shimada folks were raised and how it all went down." Cole leaned back in over the bar disk. Mirroring Hanzo's left forearm with his own. Profiles facing one another. "Still. Instead of respondin' with silence, could'a helped with a nudge or somethin' - an 'I don't wanna talk 'bout it' would've been more than enough. I ain't picky."

Hanzo lifted the glass to his lips. "I was under the impression that you were mocking me."

"Mockin' you?" he asked, eyes narrowed as he turned his head sideways to face Hanzo's flawless profile. "Not a chance. I've seen you in action, archer. I ain't got a death wish."

A brief silence followed.

"He told you," he said, halfway facing him despite keeping eyes trained on the bar disk.

It was more of a statement than a question.

Unable to resist, Cole let his eyes search Hanzo's face mere inches away from him, and again not a damn flaw in sight.

"That he did."

"...and?"

Amber eyes shot up then. Pinning him in place. That same intensity in them. Cole became all too aware of his own breathing at that point. It was something that came naturally, but once you thought about it, it suddenly got harder. More complex. He'd noticed Hanzo had that effect on him and he knew why. Didn't deny it. That said, he wasn't entirely sure where the man was going with this.

Cole couldn't read his expression as they all appeared to be various displays of anger, contained fatigue, and maybe something else. More heated. He was known to be observant when it came to reading other people, but with Hanzo, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Tearing his gaze away, Cole sighed. "Well, I ain't gonna say I like it," he said, his statement honest. Cole transferred the cigar from his metallic hand - still holding the glass - to his flesh one before crossing his arms on the counter "...but your brother did make some good points. I reckon I understand a bit more what's goin' on in that pretty head o'yours. I s'pose I can relate."

"Did you nearly kill your brother to restore order to your clan?" Hanzo asked, giving him an unimpressed look.

"No, but... I ain't exactly got a clean record, myself," he replied as he cringed, meeting his gaze again. "Ran with a bunch of bad folks in my youth. I ain't a stranger to second chances and I'll be go to hell if I deny someone else that." Cole paused, eyes again falling, and recognized what he was doing. His thumb had a mind of its own as it lightly brushed against the hot skin of a tattooed forearm. Regardless, Hanzo didn't show any signs of pulling away. "As I stated previously, these are good people. At the very least step by the cafeteria this evenin'. They might surprise you."

Hanzo took a moment before speaking.

"I... will consider it."

Retracting his hand, Cole gestured to his arm. "Gonna tell me how you got that?"

"No," he replied, sipping his drink.

"Suit yourself," he huffed, but didn't give up that easily. His mild smirk was coy. Cole twisted the cigar whilst studying it. "I guess I'll just stick to believin' that you scratched yourself pickin' a fight with a wall or somethin'."

Naturally, Hanzo's pride didn't allow that. "Talon. Stragglers. I took care of them."

"All by your lonesome? Could'a called. Happy to lend a hand."

"It was not necessary."

"Clearly... but there's a difference between 'needing' help and 'wanting to' help. A guy doesn't open the door for a lady 'cause he thinks she's too weak to do it herself. He wants to feel useful," he replied, the expression before him tightening slightly. Hanzo seemed to take it to heart. "I ain't doubtin' your skill, archer. Just lettin' you know we've got each other's backs around here."

His response was anything but immediate.

"Why did you want me here?"

Stunned, Cole blinked. "Haven't had a drink without expectations before?"

Before him, Hanzo looked slightly taken aback. Jesus Christ, he muttered, taking in the implication. People showing common courtesy is that much of a foreign concept to ya? He supposed it could've stemmed from the whole royalty thing. Some people out there feared getting their heads chopped off if they didn't address said royalty correctly, and thus, did it out of necessity. Maybe people tried to cozy up to him. Could be for money, access, so on and so forth. They must've had balls of steel considering Hanzo's reputation, though.

That or just be stupid.

Maybe suicidal.

"Surprising. You are not as subtle as you think you are, gunslinger. This is not the first time I have been approached."

"Subtle?" he repeated, a chuckle in his tone. "Who says I'm tryin' to be? I ain't a teenager. If I want somethin', I'll let you know, but... I'm still tryin' to get a read on ya." He glimpsed a change in Hanzo's expression then. He had looked bored before. Maybe even uninterested. Now, on the other hand, a mild glint shimmered in his eye. "Besides... you don't seem to mind it all too much."

Hanzo hummed. "Perhaps I am simply being polite," he deadpanned, knocking the rest of his sake back before rising to his feet. Hanzo rounded him, put the glass in the dishwasher, and made his leave. "I am not a fool to be as easily swayed."

That was either a challenge, an insult, or both.

Cole let out a scoff.

He could tell Hanzo wasn't fully convinced that this was nothing but banter.

...and, in all honesty, neither was he.

The air stopped slowly suffocating him when he disappeared around the corner.