#i wish i could remember like what ships would be represented in this tab collection but all i know for sure is wangxian

[coquelicoq]

through a series of events that i believed to be harmless while they were happening, my ex is now the proud owner of a browser window exclusively containing maybe 10 tabs of ao3 i opened sometime last year. i have no memory of the specific fics, and probably most of them i had not yet read, but i am positive at least some percentage of them are E-rated. it's possible there's no kinky shit, but not impossible. to preserve both of our dignity i am pretending not to remember what is in the tabs at all, and he's not saying anything about it. but i remember enough. i remember enough.

[wandering-hanzo-blog]

Brothers

Characters Involved : Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada Ship Roleplay? : No  Ongoing? : Yes Location(s) : Japan  Trigger Warnings : None Updated : 7/7/2018 

NOTE: This is the aftermath of Archangel; maybe about a week after it because Hanzo had to heal up from his wounds.

HANZO

"You failed to take Archangel down, Shimada-san?" 

The officer dropped the papers from his hand, an unhidden disappointed look on his face as he shook his head. Humiliated, Hanzo was quick to fall to his knees, prepared to bow in acceptance of his defeat, but his still injured shoulder held him back — he winced, the pain surging through his entire body once again, forcing himself to pull back. The officer, noticing his difficulty, held out a palm to stop him, but Hanzo maintained his knelt position. 

"Forgive me, omawari-san. I tried to end it quick for Archangel and sent my arrows flying while he was still unaware of my position, but Archangel" — his voice faltered, the memory of Archangel still fresh and vivid as if it were only yesterday; how the man had only looked at him in irritation, almost unfazed as he extracted the arrow from his shoulder, like it was but a mere splinter — "he was not affected. Arrow after arrow, he did not weaken." 

The officer stayed quiet, but Hanzo dared not raise his head. After a while, he finally spoke, "Did you try to kill him?" 

"Yes. But he would not fall." 

Silence again. Hanzo could not bear the shame of his defeat.

"Very well, Shimada-san. Could you give us any important information you found while you were finding your way into Archangel's premises?" 

Hanzo nodded. "All entrances has been booby trapped, omawari-san. Most of the other mercenaries sent to eliminate Archangel were killed trying to get in. Those that didn't, Archangel was quick to dispose. But they are not entirely invisible. They can still be seen if light reflects against it." 

The officer looked over to the policeman by his side. "Record that down, Nakamura. We will brief the others about this later." 

"Sir!" his assistant agreed, and quickly he saluted before scampering over to a nearby notebook and proceeded to jot down what could only be everything Hanzo mentioned just now. 

"We are grateful for your actions, Shimada-san," the officer told him, gesturing at Hanzo to stand and come closer, which Hanzo dutifully obeyed. He then leaned over to his side, searching for something underneath his desk and out from under it, he pulled out a bag full of items. He held it out to him, "These are for your quick recovery. They are medical supplies for your wound. We have also banked in the payment to your account. If there is anything else we need of you, we shall let you know." 

Hanzo accepted them without question and lowered himself to a bow. "I understand, sir. Thank you." 

No longer awaiting for further orders, Hanzo escorted himself outside the police department. Certainly that would be the last he would see of Archangel, unless if they call him again to proceed with further actions. But now, Hanzo just wanted to rest. At least with this job done, he could pay for his everyday activities for the next two months. 

Holding onto the first aid supplies, Hanzo walked, but little did he realize the man he least expected to see tailing behind him.

GENJI

Hanzo was a difficult man to find these days. Genji had not kept tabs on his brother since their confrontation at Shimada Castle. He wanted to allow him time to think- to come to terms with the fact that Genji still lived, as well as to "pick a side". 

That had been months ago, and still no word from the elder Shimada. Genji decided he was done waiting. If Hanzo hadn't reached out by now, knowing him, he probably never would. Most likely he was hiding from the world like a coward, pretending that nothing had changed. But he had to feed himself somehow... All Genji had to do was keep an ear out for an expert archer offering his services.

He started in Tokyo. What place could be better for a man who didn't want to be found? He could hide in plain sight. Genji lingered around the city, particularly keeping an eye on areas favored by crime circles. Eventually, Hanzo would either come after one of them, or rumors of a bow-armed vigilante would come through.

It was the rumors that prevailed. Not word on Hanzo, but on a new menace of the streets. There was an unknown assassin on the loose, and the police were paying a handsome sum to take him down. But everyone who had gone after him wound up dead. Genji heard it one night as two gang members left a tattoo parlor, and immediately knew it was his lead. If Hanzo really was collecting cash, this would be an irresistible challenge. 

So Genji went to the police. He offered his services, only to be told that someone else had already taken the job. An archer. That was all the confirmation he needed. Genji watched the police headquarters for the next several days, paying attention to everyone who entered the building. Until finally, he appeared.

The ninja was down on the ground by the time his brother exited. Dressed in casual clothing and keeping his footsteps silent, Genji followed behind.

HANZO

Hanzo walked on through the crowd, the sound of their soft chatter distant and far away as he tried to dull the pain. Though it did not ache as much as it did a week ago, the doctors had told him it would take at least ten days before the wound seals — and that he had to provide extra care as to not reopen it under any circumstances. But with most of his actions being done purely out of instinct, there were far too many times where he had risked himself opening that wound up again. As a result, the healing didn't come as fast as he had wished for. He still had to hunt down Archangel. He couldn't leave his job undone. 

He carried on, wincing as he shifted his shoulder, hating that short jolt of immense pain that came with it but at least the ache was relieved... for now. The whole week really hasn't been a good one for him; not to mention all those hours he spent thinking about that strange newfound mystery he saw in Archangel. From what the police knew, the European had his fair share of ties with the infamous Talon — an organization that had been hard at work in tearing down what peace humanity had restored after the Omnic Crisis. 

There wasn't particularly much he knew about it — from what he gathered, even the government had little information that they had managed to grasp about Talon; thus so did he. He knew they had malicious intentions; were not afraid to draw the blood of their enemies, but what he knew the most, and what he dreaded the most, was that they were after him. They desired and longed for his marksmanship.

So much so that they had already tried asking thrice. But his answer never changed: he never stopped saying no. 

He remembered how he sent that katana straight through Genji's body; how those eyes — the same ones that stared at him in trust, envy and love even everytime Hanzo snuck past the bodyguards, escaped his parents, just to gather the time to meet him little brother — began to tear as they realized what his brother truly is: a murderous beast. He left Shimada Castle not long after, and ever since then he vowed he wanted nothing to do with the likes of yakuzas or any other organizations that expressed eagerness on hurting the innocent. 

That was, at the very least, the last thing he could do to honour his brother. His real brother. 

That... thing he saw that day couldn't be Genji. Though nothing more than a faint memory of how he used to be, Hanzo knew his brother was nothing like that.

The cyborg was just a liar.

He kept walking, in no rush to arrive home, but strangely enough, something didn't seem right. Hanzo wasn't normally the sort to believe in hunches but he felt like he was being followed — and the last time he felt that way had been before discovering those Talon representatives tailing behind his back. His gut instincts were probably wrong, but choosing to doubt it would be much too risky for him to take. Silencing the whatever 'logic' that was telling him to ignore it, Hanzo headed for the alleyway, intent on cornering whoever it was that had decided to become his stalker.

GENJI

Genji stayed a reasonable distance behind his estranged brother so as not to attract attention. Not that anyone around would really care- it was a large city, after all. He slipped easily through the crowds without ever losing sight of Hanzo. He knew it was only a matter of time until his brother would notice his presence, and he was curious to see how it would play it out. 

It didn't happen as quickly as he expected. Odd, since he wasn't keeping particularly stealthy. Hanzo seemed distracted. And the way that he held himself, the way he was moving... He must have been injured. Genji felt an urge to chastise his brother for being careless.

If everything followed his plan, then maybe Genji would have the chance. It was easy to see that Hanzo was a lost man, without ties or a cause beyond staying alive. Genji of all people knew what that was like. He would make it his mission to get his brother back on track, help him find his place in the world as Genji recently had. Offering Hanzo his forgiveness was no use if the elder Shimada simply continued as he was. Genji would have to force him to accept it.

Hanzo had so much potential to do good for the world. Genji resolved to do whatever it took to get him to act on it. He hoped that this meeting would be enough.

Genji allowed himself to be led into the alley and cornered. He had a better chance of getting through to Hanzo if he felt in control. He held his head low, a hood pulled over the top, and waited for Hanzo to make the first move. He aimed to handle the situation cautiously, as if dealing with a wild animal.

HANZO

So he won't be the first to speak, Hanzo chided, which meant his pursuer wished to talk. Had whomever it was were hunting for his death, they would've killed him by then, or at least made a first strike by now. But regardless of whether the stranger  wanted him dead right there and then or after whatever it was he wished to speak of, Hanzo wasn't in the mood. He had one too many already, especially with those whom still lived with rage towards him — or specifically, his family. Probably seeing as Hanzo had been injured after his battle with Archangel, the stalker had decided this would be a perfect opportunity to strike. 

Hanzo would teach him. His expectations of Hanzo in a weakened state would be the very thing placing him in a disadvantage. Hanzo could very well still battle with his current state. They were fools for doubting his skill. 

His injured arm gripped tight onto his bow, Hanzo made a sharp turn, arrow notched and his eyes ablaze with rage as he aimed it straight to the heart of his pursuer. "You are a fool to follow me. Turn away now and—"

He froze instantly as he watched the hood fall from the shadowed figure's form, watched as slowly, it revealed in its absence metal meeting skin; falling away to show exactly what he dreaded to see.

His voice faltered, and like a fool, he allowed emotion to slip into its tone as once again, the memories of him bringing his katana down onto his own brother came all over again.

"Genji?"

GENJI

It went about as Genji had expected. Hanzo perceived him as a threat, of course, and readied an attack. It surprised him, though that Hanzo didn't let the arrow fly immediately- and even offered his opponent a chance to get away. Either his brother had become merciful since they'd last met, or the injury he'd sustained was serious enough to hinder his fighting ability. Genji naively hoped it was the former. 

"Don't strain yourself, Hanzo." 

Genji spoke, and turned his face upward so that his glowing visor became visible. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, robotic fingers curling slightly.

"I've been searching for you. Difficult, but I knew where to look." 

Genji did his best to appear unimposing. He kept his tone light and his body language open and relaxed. He didn't want to fight this time. 

"It's time that we have a talk. As brothers."

HANZO

For the first few seconds, Hanzo offered no response — baffled that his eyes had the chance to once again behold Genji: the little brother he used to spend time with all those years ago, how he laughed with him as they ran along the corridors of Shimada castle. Those sufferable thoughts fell in one by one, the very same one that bothered him all those sleepless nights; had him tossing and turning in his bed as he asked himself: why, why why had he chosen to bring his weapon down. And how could he had brought himself to tear that smiling face apart. 

But he stopped himself soon after, his senses returning and hostility with it. This wasn't Genji. The cyborg was trying to fool him. His brother was dead. And no one, not even after how technology had advanced, can bring a crossed soul back from the bridge. 

He narrowed his eyes, his voice as cold as ice, "You are not my brother. Shimada Genji, my brother, died all those years ago after I killed him with my own blade. I myself watched the metal pierce through his soft flesh. You are not my brother." His words were cold, heartless, but killed him as they fell messily from his lips — messy, because he had not reviewed carefully as to what he should say before speaking. He was acting with his heart and not his head, and Hanzo was a fool for playing with such unacceptable, disarrayed tomfoolery. 

He turned away, displaying disinterest. He hated continuing this topic of discussion, nor was he eager to even think about it. He didn't even look back as he forced himself to keep walking, feigning ignorance to the ache in his chest as he silenced those dizzying thoughts in his head. "Leave. We have nothing to talk about."

GENJI

Hanzo's words drove pain into Genji's heart as if it had been pierced by an arrow. To have searched for weeks for his brother, following what scraps of information he could find- to have rehearsed this reunion over in his head, planning the words he would say- only to be rejected a second time- was brutal. He understood Hanzo's suspicion and doubt, his defensiveness, but he thought he'd dispelled all that by revealing his face back at Shimada Castle. Apparently not. Genji would have to prove his identity to his brother once and for all. And to do that, he'd use his memories. 

Even as Hanzo turned to leave, Genji continued to follow him. He began to speak. 

"When I was five, you challenged me to climb the tallest sakura tree in the courtyard. I fell and broke my arm. Father grounded us both for two weeks."

"When I was ten, you were convinced that a girl at school was in love with you. You brought her home one day and the moment you weren't looking, she tried to convince me to run away with her. You were mad at me for a month."

"When I was thirteen, father gifted me with a brand new katana. You were jealous because your gift had been a pat on the back."

"When I came of age and saw my dragon for the first time, I was so excited that I couldn't wait for the tattoo. I dyed my hair green to show everyone that I was the Green Dragon." 

"....Your brother Genji isn't dead, Hanzo. I'm right here."

HANZO

Hanzo froze as the words came flowing in, like a cold grip around his heart. Cold... but tender and gentle. Bitter yet sweet. But he hated the feeling of it. Stop it. I do not want to hear it. After everything he had already done, Hanzo had already sworn that such pleasures were undeserved by men like him; men that would steal it from others, just for selfish, self-centered reasons as he had done with his own brother. It was not in his right to remember... happy memories such as those. 

But he did. 

When he was five, where he was holding back tears and trying his best to maintain his honour after Genji had fallen and broken his arm. How he carried his younger brother to the servants and begged them for help. Anything to save him. Because it was his fault he had fallen. Because he was his little brother.

When he was ten, and he fell in love with that beautiful girl. Misako, he remembered her name — but she never returned those feelings. She only loved his stupid, more charming, more enthusiastic brother, and not him because he, in return, was artless and quiet. He remembered when he saw her and Genji together, her cheeks a bright red as she spoke her words of tender love, and tore his heart with only that one simple line: I love you, Genji-san. He remembered yelling at him later that night; screaming his lungs out before their own father pulled him away. But he had forgotten his brother turning her down. He had forgotten what he had said to Misako, "I cannot, Misako-chan. My anija loves you. I cannot."

When he was thirteen, and he saw Genji pull out that katana from the gift box, and he had waited in anticipation for his own gift, only to end up with a gentle pat to his back. "You are a good child, Hanzo," his father had said, but that was not what he felt. Hanzo hid in his room for the rest of the day, and lied to his father that he was practicing his calligraphy. He opened the door to no one. Not even Genji when he offered the boy to try out his new gift. 

When he reached twenty, and from that very same katana glimmered the soul of his dragon — green, and lively like the fire in his brother. And how the dumb boy took all those ridiculous steps to show the dragon in his form itself, like dyeing his hair that hideous shade of green.

The same shade it was when he sent that sword across his chest. Red scattered across the colour like the remnants of war spilling onto the innocence of nature; undeserving of its brutality, but destroyed by monsters — pathetic excuses of men. 

Men just like himself. 

Hanzo remained firm, and refused to turn around. He refused to bring his arms up; refused to encompass himself in their warmth. He wouldn't let Genji see him weak. He wouldn't let him see him cry. 

"...What do you want from me?" 

GENJI

Even from behind, Genji knew what Hanzo was thinking. He could sense the wheels turning in his head as he recalled the moments Genji spoke of. Genji felt that he had finally gotten through to his brother, after all his trying. Any moment Hanzo would give in, and Genji could finally take him home. Not to Hanamura of course, but to somewhere that Hanzo could learn to live again. Somewhere they could be together. 

Overwatch. 

Genji took a step forward. He spoke with a voice soft and comforting. Tears welled in his eyes. 

"I don't want anything from you, Hanzo. I just want you."