[ All of his leftover ire is only at the feet of their clan anymore. It bubbles to the surface as he's blindsided that his brother apparently cannot see it. ] You were never allowed to be a child!
[ It's probably the loudest his voice has been in weeks. Genji snaps his mouth closed with an audible click and shakes his head. ] How we were raised was wrong, brother. It was wrong that you were groomed and it was wrong that we were pitted against each other. They brainwashed you and made you into their weapon. And they used you when I became a liability.
[ Genji's features ease. ] The only people to blame are the elders and our father.
[ at first he's silent in the face of Genji's anger, shocked beyond any words to retaliate — but Hanzo is shaking his head as it goes on, before Genji even finishes speaking. this is the anger that should be directed at Hanzo, how can he blame the family for it? he knows that Genji always resented them for trying to pull him into something that he wanted no part of. he can understand that. but this is too much; to disrespect the way they were raised, to call it brainwashing, how dare he? ]
No. No, we were raised well. How can you be so ungrateful to our family? [ he's clearly upset just by the questioning of their methods, his old teachings still a part of him like some great, choking vine, twined around his heart and spilling out of his ribcage. ] We were brought up strong and skilled, and I was shaped to do my duty. It was never Father's fault that I failed to live up to that!
[ to question the elders is one thing. to say anything against their father makes Hanzo feel cornered and nauseous, because it just isn't done, not ever. ]
We should have been brought up with love, not expectations! Not terrified to make mistakes! You were never allowed to feel like you could succeed because then you might start questioning them! [ He hasn't felt this worked up about their past since the first time he found himself ranting at his Master, when the veil was lifted and he started realizing just how wrong things were.
He clenches his fists and takes a breath. His life support always whirs when his blood pressure rises, a leftover warning from when he was at a greater risk of sudden cardiac arrest. Genji shakes his head. ] I should have had a brother to play with, not left crying outside your study when they would not let you. [ He lets out a shaky breath. ] A good father does not treat his sons so differently.
[ these aren't things that Hanzo has ever thought, not once in his life. it always broke his heart to have to turn Genji away, or to be told he couldn't join his brother because he should be filling his time with lessons and training. but those things were necessary. the family had to take priority over what he wanted — it did, for so long that Hanzo stopped wanting anything, doesn't remember now what it feels like to want.
he can't keep up with this. he doesn't know what to say, but he can't just stand here and listen to Genji say these things. they aren't true. Hanzo was raised as he had to be; Father understood that, and he made sure that Hanzo would be the best he could possibly be.
(something about it hurts, though. sits in his chest like a splinter, uncomfortable in a way he can't put his finger on.) ]
Enough. [ he puts a hand over his eyes, and his voice is thin, reedy. he's shaking. ] Do you understand now? I am not— Whatever you want from me, I cannot... [ a deep, shuddering intake of breath. ] Genji. Little brother, please. I am begging you.
[ he wants to die. it's never been an option before, while Genji was dead and Hanzo had to be the one to carry the weight of the guilt and the memories because the clan would not. but now Genji is here, and for the first time, Hanzo is terribly aware of the feeling that he does not want to be alive. ]
[ All of air leaves Genji's lungs with a wheeze when his brother yells. And as he listens to him continue, his chest feels like it's about to cave in on itself.
His big brother still, still, wants to die. Genji's eyes prickle and he swallows hard. ] No.
[ His voice is even raspier, hoarse with grief. ] I am still selfish. If I killed you— then I would just be alone. [ Genji's silent for a beat, breath ragged as he gulps down air. ] I missed you. If you cannot believe anything else I have said to you, please believe that.
[ Genji really isn't going to kill him. and Hanzo has been expecting it, waiting for it every second since they found each other in the tunnels — it feels like the ground has given way underneath him now and he has nothing left. like this was his last hope, maybe. (their time at the festival had been good, could have been something close to normal for the people they are now, but it had been temporary. it hadn't been real. that isn't the kind of life Hanzo can have.)
Hanzo sinks to the ground on his knees, sitting back on his heels, suddenly drained. ] Why? [ he sounds desperate, choked. ] How could you possibly...
[ he can't imagine what Genji missed. their childhood, maybe, in which case he's looking for a person who doesn't exist anymore. towards the end, their differences were irreconcilable, at least as far as Hanzo can remember it. at least as far as the clan saw it. and even if there was someone worth missing in Hanzo from that time, it can't be enough to move past what followed. ]
Reaper was right. [ Hanzo is covering his face with both hands now, curling in on himself. ] I have not even apologised to you, I have not—
[ words keep failing him. it just makes him feel even more useless, pathetic, a disappointment. ]
[ He needs to regulate his breathing before his life support starts thinking he's suffocating. Genji takes a few deep breaths from his stomach and closes his eyes, feeling his eyes continue to prickle.
When he opens them, he sees him crouched on the ground. Without even thinking twice, he kneels down in front of him. ] I told you that honor resides in one's actions. I did not mention forgiveness.
[ Maybe he shouldn't, but he does. It feels like they're fifteen years younger; when Genji would come home and find his brother far too stressed, nearly breaking down... Genji reaches out and wraps his arms around his brother's broad shoulders. He knows he's all metal and harsh edges now, but his touch is gentle. ] All you have done has shown me that you are sorry, brother.
[ even with all of this, he doesn't expect for Genji to embrace him. at the first touch, Hanzo freezes up, and as soon as he realises what's happening, his breath escapes him all at once in a sob. it makes him feel younger, too. after Mother had died, Genji was the only one who would ever hug him. in their later years, when they were fighting all the time, Hanzo was aware of the sudden absence; but it's been so long since that he'd stopped noticing it at all.
this is the first time he's been held, or touched with any kindness, in more than ten years, and his heart aches so badly that he can feel it in the bone of his ribcage. his hands grip Genji's arms on both sides — not prying him off, just holding onto him, like he doesn't have the strength to do anything else. ]
It is not enough. [ his shaking has gotten much worse now, full-body tremors. he can't and shouldn't let this happen, but — his head is resting on Genji's shoulder anyway, the weight of his body sinking against him. his voice is terribly small: ] Nothing could ever be enough.
[ Genji just holds him close and steady, feeling him shake. He presses his rough cheek to the side of his head and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. If a couple warm tears slip down Genji's cheek he makes no mention of it. ] Then that is why you must live.
[ His voice is soft and quiet, his hand starting to rub circle's in his brother's back. ] We have the rest of our lives to make things right. And I do not want to be on this journey alone any longer.
[ Genji ran here in an instant, without being asked for, just because he was worried about Hanzo, about his reaction to whatever Reaper said to him. and Hanzo has given him a dozen opportunities to have revenge, begged for it. if Genji was doing this out of cruelty, after deeper vengeance than a clean death, then the once-proud heir lowering himself to plead for death should have been all he needed.
it couldn't be a longer game than that. not just because that's insane, to draw it out for that long to no greater satisfaction. Genji isn't like that. he was sly, and certainly he could be cruel when he wanted it, just... not that. and if it isn't that, then it could only be that: ]
You mean it. [ it scrapes in his throat. he learnt young not to cry, but he could never change how obvious it is that he's trying to hold back. ] All of this.
[ Genji is telling the truth, and Hanzo believes him. he may not at another time, blind to his own skewed perceptions, to the fear that twists his thoughts — but right now, he believes it. and it would be easier, wouldn't it, not to have to struggle through every single step of the way in what's to come, and an end is still horrifically tempting — but right now, Hanzo wants desperately to believe Genji on this too. that he can make things right, even if it takes him forty, fifty years.
it's enough for right now. so this is over; Hanzo can compose himself, they can go back, carry on from here. except Hanzo releases his grip on Genji's arms and puts his own arms around Genji's middle instead, holding him a little tighter. he tries to adjust his breathing to the pace of the hand moving on his back. ]
You have changed, and I have not, I— [ he breathes in, out, shuddering; sorts through the panicked knot of words in his head. ] This is not... a path I know how to walk.
[ he's going to make a mistake somewhere, which is the worst certainty Hanzo could ever have to face. the most terrifying thought is that this is possible, and it can and will fail because Hanzo's just going to fuck it up. ]
Of course I do. [ It's the easiest answer he has ever had to give.
Things will not be perfect, he is under no illusion that they will. He knows they will fight and clash because that is just how they are. But he has hope for his brother and he realizes, in some way, he always has.
When he shifts and holds him around his middle, the vice in Genji's chest eases. He smiles and gives him a little squeeze, turning to press his forehead against his brother's shoulder. ] We will walk it together, one day at a time. We have always been stronger together.
[ he breathes out slowly, until all the air is gone from his lungs — meditative breathing is about the only way he knows to calm himself, and it's helped when it actually occurs to him to do it in the midst of a panic-muddled haze. ]
Alright. [ he's starting to relax at last, the flight-ready tension unwinding bit by bit. ] Alright.
[ as long as it isn't Hanzo doing this alone, like he was with the clan, maybe it won't inevitably be a disaster. he can't trust himself with anything, but he can trust Genji; it's the most comforting thought he can latch onto, for this. he tightens his hold for one brief squeeze before he starts to let go and pull away from the embrace, reluctantly. ]
Ten years, and still, you always get everything your way.
[ he mostly sounds exhausted, but there's humour under it, even weary and wrung-out. this isn't something he'd thought he could possibly be talked down from. since Genji seems to have done the impossible, he can't help but joke. ]
[ That gets a wobbly little chuckle out of him as he pulls away. It's rare for him to feel vulnerable anymore but this time it isn't unwelcome. ] See? Not everything has changed.
[ Genji wipes at the corner of an eye with a sniff, feeling just as exhausted himself. ] We are both still far too stubborn for our own good.
[ he huffs, a soft breath of laughter. ] Speak for yourself.
[ Genji is an adult. it's strange to look at him and understand that so suddenly, but his little brother really has grown while he was gone, and Hanzo missed it. there's a sense of loss for that, something that vibrates in his chest like a string was plucked, for the fact that Hanzo didn't get to see it happen. he should have been there.
but he wasn't; all he has is now, with Genji settled into a person that Hanzo will have to learn again. he pushes himself up to his feet somewhat unsteadily, and then holds out a hand to help Genji up. ]
You should stay away from Reaper. [ as he pulls Genji upright, his brow furrowing with a tired frown. ] I do not like the way he speaks of you.
[ too familiar, for a man that McCree said claims to have cut all ties with his former identity. or maybe it had just been the nature of that familiarity — he was one of mine — the way it felt like it was meant to threaten the new and tenuous bond Hanzo has only just gotten back with his brother. ]
[ Genji chuckles in return, wiping at his other eye. He feels drained, his chest is sore in the same way one's legs are after running for too long. It hurt but it was needed, like finally pulling out a splinter that had started to fester. It will still hurt and need to heal, but it's better.
He looks up at his brother, at him holding out his hand and he feels like a little boy again for a moment. All of those times he would help him up when they were training, when he'd trip, when they were playing and Genji would fall and scrape his knees. His brother was always there to pick him up. He smiles faintly and takes his hand, getting up easily.
His expression turns serious. ] And you do the same. [ Genji sighs, tired again for another reason, and shakes his head. ] I cannot understand it. The man he was— [ He huffs through his nose. ] He was a good man.
[ And now he's some kind of monster and he knows too much. He could poke at every sore spot inside him and it's infuriating. ]
[ they didn't have many people in their old life that Genji would have ever called good, which says a lot about the kind of man that Reyes must have once been. (Hanzo can't help but feel something bitter in the back of his throat, perhaps even jealous, for the fact that someone else won Genji's respect when Father could never hold it.)
he doesn't know that kind of betrayal, himself; can't imagine how any of the people whose orders he followed could have betrayed him, can't think of a single action that he would consider a betrayal. but whatever the dynamic of Genji's relationship to Reyes, it's clear that Genji is hurt by it, and that's all that matters here. ]
I believe you. [ he grips Genji's shoulder with one hand, sincere in his grave, weighted way. ] I am sorry that he is no longer as you remember.
[ both of them could probably climb back down from the roof if they had to, but right now, Hanzo is tired enough to take the easier path as long as the building isn't locked up for the night. he turns towards the door for the stairwell and waits for Genji to fall into step with him. ]
And believe me, I will keep my distance. Now that I am... thinking more clearly— it is good that I did not have my bow with me when he and I spoke.
[ it would have been insanity, to try and fight Reaper, and he would have done it anyway because he wouldn't have been able to hold himself back from it. Genji had provoked him just the same, back in Hanamura; listening to Reaper was even worse, having him go after the new and tenuous bond with Genji as well as tearing open Hanzo's old wounds. ]
[ It had been, initially, an entirely grudging sort of respect. But seeing someone dish out orders while also throwing themselves head first into the fire had been something he didn't know what to do with. Eventually he found himself wanting to make Reyes proud, although it wasn't enough to get him to stay once dismantling the clan was done.
The grip on his shoulder makes a small little smile quirk at his lips. He feels very exhausted now. ] I just hope something can be done.
[ Genji goes to pick up his head piece left on the ground and follows after him. He still feels too keyed up to put it back on, like he'd be trying stop an overflowing faucet with just his hands. He rubs at a spot on the top of the helmet piece and can't help a little huff when his brother speaks again. ] I do not blame you, honestly. I did not have my sword with me when he confronted me.
[ He twists his lips, words a little more somber. ] It was even harder when he confronted Jesse. [ And if he had been there when he confronted his brother... any temperance Genji might have learned up in those mountains would have been tossed out the window. ]
Jesse McCree... [ he sounds thoughtful; in all of two meetings, McCree has left an impression on him. it's surprisingly favourable. ] I saw him some time after Reaper had found him. He did seem deeply affected by the encounter.
[ at the time, Hanzo didn't know anything more than what McCree told him: that Reaper was once someone McCree knew, and that his return haunted him the same way that Genji's did Hanzo. he still doesn't know much, but he's starting to get a better picture of what had McCree loitering in the kitchen at 3AM. Genji came back to Hanzo a changed man at peace with himself and his history. Reaper seems to have come back a monster, a terrorist, denying all ties to his identity. ]
Perhaps I should have heeded his words. [ he heads into the stairwell and holds the door open for Genji; runs his free hand through his dishevelled hair, starting to fall loose around his ears. ] He warned me that the "fella" is "downright unpleasant."
[ without saying it directly, Hanzo still manages to get across the very clear impression that he's judging Genji for his weird, intensely American cowboy friend. Americans are incomprehensible enough as it is; half of what McCree says, he can only understand by context. ]
[ Now that is a little surprising, but in an entirely welcome sort of way. He feels like the brother of his youth would never entertain a person like Jesse McCree for longer than he had to. Interesting. But Genji nods. ] Jesse, out of all of us, was the closest to Reyes. I cannot image what it must be like for him.
[ He passes under the door frame and nods in thanks, stepping down a stair. But when his brother imitates Jesse's familiar drawl he laughs that laugh of his, the sound bouncing off the small hallway. The judgement in his tone, at least, is familiar and entertaining. ] You should show him your impression sometime, he would enjoy it. [ There's a bit of teasing there, too. Why, exactly, are you speaking so much to said cowboy dear brother?
He sobers quickly though and continues down the steps, turning to look behind him once he reaches half way. ] I plan to avoid him as much as possible, unless he starts to hurt people.
[ it's strange to hear such a heroic declaration from Genji. when they were younger, he would never have worried about something like people being hurt; he couldn't have, not with the world they grew up in. but this is a change Hanzo will have to get used to, if he wants to be able to understand Genji as he is now. ]
I doubt he is that foolish. [ definitely bold, and aggressively confrontational, but— ] The city would turn against him if he were a problem.
[ although he doesn't trust the place, or the people running it, he doesn't need to. all of them are trapped here for the time being, and no one is likely to let a single person make their imprisonment even more unpleasant than it already is. Reaper would know that too. he'd have nothing to gain. ]
But if you do need to confront him, for any reason, I will back you up.
[ Genji nods. The Commander he used to know would understand that, but he feels he cannot trust what he knew of Reyes in what is now the Reaper. Hopefully, it stays a stalemate for as long as possible. ] You are right. We will just have to see.
[ He fights a little quirk of a smile though. Genji has grown so used to hiding his face the pull steeling his face into a neutral expression is a little obvious. Fighting alongside his brother is something he found he missed, among so many other things. ] I hope it does not come to that, but it is appreciated.
[ He reaches back to scratch at a graying temple and shrugs a shoulder, finally letting himself smile a little lopsided. ] Now, shall we see if there is anything still open for food?
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[ It's probably the loudest his voice has been in weeks. Genji snaps his mouth closed with an audible click and shakes his head. ] How we were raised was wrong, brother. It was wrong that you were groomed and it was wrong that we were pitted against each other. They brainwashed you and made you into their weapon. And they used you when I became a liability.
[ Genji's features ease. ] The only people to blame are the elders and our father.
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No. No, we were raised well. How can you be so ungrateful to our family? [ he's clearly upset just by the questioning of their methods, his old teachings still a part of him like some great, choking vine, twined around his heart and spilling out of his ribcage. ] We were brought up strong and skilled, and I was shaped to do my duty. It was never Father's fault that I failed to live up to that!
[ to question the elders is one thing. to say anything against their father makes Hanzo feel cornered and nauseous, because it just isn't done, not ever. ]
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He clenches his fists and takes a breath. His life support always whirs when his blood pressure rises, a leftover warning from when he was at a greater risk of sudden cardiac arrest. Genji shakes his head. ] I should have had a brother to play with, not left crying outside your study when they would not let you. [ He lets out a shaky breath. ] A good father does not treat his sons so differently.
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[ these aren't things that Hanzo has ever thought, not once in his life. it always broke his heart to have to turn Genji away, or to be told he couldn't join his brother because he should be filling his time with lessons and training. but those things were necessary. the family had to take priority over what he wanted — it did, for so long that Hanzo stopped wanting anything, doesn't remember now what it feels like to want.
he can't keep up with this. he doesn't know what to say, but he can't just stand here and listen to Genji say these things. they aren't true. Hanzo was raised as he had to be; Father understood that, and he made sure that Hanzo would be the best he could possibly be.
(something about it hurts, though. sits in his chest like a splinter, uncomfortable in a way he can't put his finger on.) ]
Enough. [ he puts a hand over his eyes, and his voice is thin, reedy. he's shaking. ] Do you understand now? I am not— Whatever you want from me, I cannot... [ a deep, shuddering intake of breath. ] Genji. Little brother, please. I am begging you.
[ he wants to die. it's never been an option before, while Genji was dead and Hanzo had to be the one to carry the weight of the guilt and the memories because the clan would not. but now Genji is here, and for the first time, Hanzo is terribly aware of the feeling that he does not want to be alive. ]
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His big brother still, still, wants to die. Genji's eyes prickle and he swallows hard. ] No.
[ His voice is even raspier, hoarse with grief. ] I am still selfish. If I killed you— then I would just be alone. [ Genji's silent for a beat, breath ragged as he gulps down air. ] I missed you. If you cannot believe anything else I have said to you, please believe that.
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Hanzo sinks to the ground on his knees, sitting back on his heels, suddenly drained. ] Why? [ he sounds desperate, choked. ] How could you possibly...
[ he can't imagine what Genji missed. their childhood, maybe, in which case he's looking for a person who doesn't exist anymore. towards the end, their differences were irreconcilable, at least as far as Hanzo can remember it. at least as far as the clan saw it. and even if there was someone worth missing in Hanzo from that time, it can't be enough to move past what followed. ]
Reaper was right. [ Hanzo is covering his face with both hands now, curling in on himself. ] I have not even apologised to you, I have not—
[ words keep failing him. it just makes him feel even more useless, pathetic, a disappointment. ]
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When he opens them, he sees him crouched on the ground. Without even thinking twice, he kneels down in front of him. ] I told you that honor resides in one's actions. I did not mention forgiveness.
[ Maybe he shouldn't, but he does. It feels like they're fifteen years younger; when Genji would come home and find his brother far too stressed, nearly breaking down... Genji reaches out and wraps his arms around his brother's broad shoulders. He knows he's all metal and harsh edges now, but his touch is gentle. ] All you have done has shown me that you are sorry, brother.
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this is the first time he's been held, or touched with any kindness, in more than ten years, and his heart aches so badly that he can feel it in the bone of his ribcage. his hands grip Genji's arms on both sides — not prying him off, just holding onto him, like he doesn't have the strength to do anything else. ]
It is not enough. [ his shaking has gotten much worse now, full-body tremors. he can't and shouldn't let this happen, but — his head is resting on Genji's shoulder anyway, the weight of his body sinking against him. his voice is terribly small: ] Nothing could ever be enough.
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[ His voice is soft and quiet, his hand starting to rub circle's in his brother's back. ] We have the rest of our lives to make things right. And I do not want to be on this journey alone any longer.
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it couldn't be a longer game than that. not just because that's insane, to draw it out for that long to no greater satisfaction. Genji isn't like that. he was sly, and certainly he could be cruel when he wanted it, just... not that. and if it isn't that, then it could only be that: ]
You mean it. [ it scrapes in his throat. he learnt young not to cry, but he could never change how obvious it is that he's trying to hold back. ] All of this.
[ Genji is telling the truth, and Hanzo believes him. he may not at another time, blind to his own skewed perceptions, to the fear that twists his thoughts — but right now, he believes it. and it would be easier, wouldn't it, not to have to struggle through every single step of the way in what's to come, and an end is still horrifically tempting — but right now, Hanzo wants desperately to believe Genji on this too. that he can make things right, even if it takes him forty, fifty years.
it's enough for right now. so this is over; Hanzo can compose himself, they can go back, carry on from here. except Hanzo releases his grip on Genji's arms and puts his own arms around Genji's middle instead, holding him a little tighter. he tries to adjust his breathing to the pace of the hand moving on his back. ]
You have changed, and I have not, I— [ he breathes in, out, shuddering; sorts through the panicked knot of words in his head. ] This is not... a path I know how to walk.
[ he's going to make a mistake somewhere, which is the worst certainty Hanzo could ever have to face. the most terrifying thought is that this is possible, and it can and will fail because Hanzo's just going to fuck it up. ]
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Things will not be perfect, he is under no illusion that they will. He knows they will fight and clash because that is just how they are. But he has hope for his brother and he realizes, in some way, he always has.
When he shifts and holds him around his middle, the vice in Genji's chest eases. He smiles and gives him a little squeeze, turning to press his forehead against his brother's shoulder. ] We will walk it together, one day at a time. We have always been stronger together.
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Alright. [ he's starting to relax at last, the flight-ready tension unwinding bit by bit. ] Alright.
[ as long as it isn't Hanzo doing this alone, like he was with the clan, maybe it won't inevitably be a disaster. he can't trust himself with anything, but he can trust Genji; it's the most comforting thought he can latch onto, for this. he tightens his hold for one brief squeeze before he starts to let go and pull away from the embrace, reluctantly. ]
Ten years, and still, you always get everything your way.
[ he mostly sounds exhausted, but there's humour under it, even weary and wrung-out. this isn't something he'd thought he could possibly be talked down from. since Genji seems to have done the impossible, he can't help but joke. ]
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[ Genji wipes at the corner of an eye with a sniff, feeling just as exhausted himself. ] We are both still far too stubborn for our own good.
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[ Genji is an adult. it's strange to look at him and understand that so suddenly, but his little brother really has grown while he was gone, and Hanzo missed it. there's a sense of loss for that, something that vibrates in his chest like a string was plucked, for the fact that Hanzo didn't get to see it happen. he should have been there.
but he wasn't; all he has is now, with Genji settled into a person that Hanzo will have to learn again. he pushes himself up to his feet somewhat unsteadily, and then holds out a hand to help Genji up. ]
You should stay away from Reaper. [ as he pulls Genji upright, his brow furrowing with a tired frown. ] I do not like the way he speaks of you.
[ too familiar, for a man that McCree said claims to have cut all ties with his former identity. or maybe it had just been the nature of that familiarity — he was one of mine — the way it felt like it was meant to threaten the new and tenuous bond Hanzo has only just gotten back with his brother. ]
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He looks up at his brother, at him holding out his hand and he feels like a little boy again for a moment. All of those times he would help him up when they were training, when he'd trip, when they were playing and Genji would fall and scrape his knees. His brother was always there to pick him up. He smiles faintly and takes his hand, getting up easily.
His expression turns serious. ] And you do the same. [ Genji sighs, tired again for another reason, and shakes his head. ] I cannot understand it. The man he was— [ He huffs through his nose. ] He was a good man.
[ And now he's some kind of monster and he knows too much. He could poke at every sore spot inside him and it's infuriating. ]
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he doesn't know that kind of betrayal, himself; can't imagine how any of the people whose orders he followed could have betrayed him, can't think of a single action that he would consider a betrayal. but whatever the dynamic of Genji's relationship to Reyes, it's clear that Genji is hurt by it, and that's all that matters here. ]
I believe you. [ he grips Genji's shoulder with one hand, sincere in his grave, weighted way. ] I am sorry that he is no longer as you remember.
[ both of them could probably climb back down from the roof if they had to, but right now, Hanzo is tired enough to take the easier path as long as the building isn't locked up for the night. he turns towards the door for the stairwell and waits for Genji to fall into step with him. ]
And believe me, I will keep my distance. Now that I am... thinking more clearly— it is good that I did not have my bow with me when he and I spoke.
[ it would have been insanity, to try and fight Reaper, and he would have done it anyway because he wouldn't have been able to hold himself back from it. Genji had provoked him just the same, back in Hanamura; listening to Reaper was even worse, having him go after the new and tenuous bond with Genji as well as tearing open Hanzo's old wounds. ]
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The grip on his shoulder makes a small little smile quirk at his lips. He feels very exhausted now. ] I just hope something can be done.
[ Genji goes to pick up his head piece left on the ground and follows after him. He still feels too keyed up to put it back on, like he'd be trying stop an overflowing faucet with just his hands. He rubs at a spot on the top of the helmet piece and can't help a little huff when his brother speaks again. ] I do not blame you, honestly. I did not have my sword with me when he confronted me.
[ He twists his lips, words a little more somber. ] It was even harder when he confronted Jesse. [ And if he had been there when he confronted his brother... any temperance Genji might have learned up in those mountains would have been tossed out the window. ]
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[ at the time, Hanzo didn't know anything more than what McCree told him: that Reaper was once someone McCree knew, and that his return haunted him the same way that Genji's did Hanzo. he still doesn't know much, but he's starting to get a better picture of what had McCree loitering in the kitchen at 3AM. Genji came back to Hanzo a changed man at peace with himself and his history. Reaper seems to have come back a monster, a terrorist, denying all ties to his identity. ]
Perhaps I should have heeded his words. [ he heads into the stairwell and holds the door open for Genji; runs his free hand through his dishevelled hair, starting to fall loose around his ears. ] He warned me that the "fella" is "downright unpleasant."
[ without saying it directly, Hanzo still manages to get across the very clear impression that he's judging Genji for his weird, intensely American cowboy friend. Americans are incomprehensible enough as it is; half of what McCree says, he can only understand by context. ]
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[ He passes under the door frame and nods in thanks, stepping down a stair. But when his brother imitates Jesse's familiar drawl he laughs that laugh of his, the sound bouncing off the small hallway. The judgement in his tone, at least, is familiar and entertaining. ] You should show him your impression sometime, he would enjoy it. [ There's a bit of teasing there, too. Why, exactly, are you speaking so much to said cowboy dear brother?
He sobers quickly though and continues down the steps, turning to look behind him once he reaches half way. ] I plan to avoid him as much as possible, unless he starts to hurt people.
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I doubt he is that foolish. [ definitely bold, and aggressively confrontational, but— ] The city would turn against him if he were a problem.
[ although he doesn't trust the place, or the people running it, he doesn't need to. all of them are trapped here for the time being, and no one is likely to let a single person make their imprisonment even more unpleasant than it already is. Reaper would know that too. he'd have nothing to gain. ]
But if you do need to confront him, for any reason, I will back you up.
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[ He fights a little quirk of a smile though. Genji has grown so used to hiding his face the pull steeling his face into a neutral expression is a little obvious. Fighting alongside his brother is something he found he missed, among so many other things. ] I hope it does not come to that, but it is appreciated.
[ He reaches back to scratch at a graying temple and shrugs a shoulder, finally letting himself smile a little lopsided. ] Now, shall we see if there is anything still open for food?