Chapter Text
The reflection that stared back at him was full of doubt and question; the two very things he didn’t need right now. Where was the solitude that embraced him upon his father’s death, giving him the strength to push through his funeral? Where was the confidence that he maintained upon his ceremonial promotion to head of the family? It seemed all things in his life bowed before his younger brother.
Hanzo Shimada stood in place, facing his bathroom mirror, while doing his best to come to terms with his task. Genji’s trial was the quickest and most efficient decision that the council ever made. And they were certain not to leave him any slack in the binds of their intent. The instruction was clear; bring Genji to heel, or eliminate him. Their original plan was to send a hired hand, and end the matter discreetly. But Hanzo, being the eldest, and sworn protector of his younger brother, beseeched them for one last try to convince Genji to purge himself of the errors that so frequently endangered their way of life.
And now here he was, shaking in front of his jade sink, regretting that decision with each passing minute. A nervous hand reached for the sink nozzle, turning on the cold water and letting it run for the sound. The rushing cascade eased him slightly, but not nearly enough. He ran his hands under the water, clapping them anxiously against his face as he pulled down the excess flesh in his cheeks and closed his eyes.
‘You’re weak,’ he chastised himself. ‘You cannot afford weakness. You are the head of this family now, and he must heed your will.’ The self-criticism brought him back to task. He looked at his reflection once more, now the pillar of duty that he needed to be; purged of emotion and doubt, leaving only purpose in his wake. With a quick jerk of the wrist, he turned the nozzle off, stopping the flow of water with an audible halt. The room was still as he turned on the ball of his foot, marching toward the door. He scooped up his katana with his left hand, securing it at his side so that it could be drawn with his right. With renewed validity, he marched along the smooth wooden floors of their palace in Hanamura.
In his youth he imagined that the palace walls were painted red as a sign of strength, and national pride. It was only now that he realized that they were never painted. Rather stained, with the transgressions of those that came before him, and maintained by those that would follow. The Shimada never liked to use the word Yakuza as a descriptor, but semantics were a thing that Hanzo never bothered to occupy himself with. Still, this was the way that they lived, and the comfort and security that came with the family name needed to be paid for. Often, at times, in blood.
He just hoped it wouldn’t have to be his brother’s blood.
The journey down the halls normally took a lengthy span of minutes in travel to Genji’s chambers in the south. The journey used to be a thing of annoyance, but today he was counting on it. He wanted every second that it took him to cover the distance between their resting areas. He needed them. But all too soon, his ears perked to the laughter of harlots, no doubt in preparation to be roused beneath the sheets of his brother’s bedding.
Something changed in his brother’s spirit after their mother passed. Something changed in all of their spirits after his mother passed. But not even the promise of the soulmate, etched into the center of his inner wrist soothed the wound that she left on his brother’s heart. And so like the ronin, he wandered in search of her; often between the thighs of other women.
He hated them, for they had robbed him of the time that he needed to use to convince himself to find another way. There he stood, outside of his brother’s room, and if he tallied any longer, he would be forced to endure a thing that no sibling ever wanted to endure. So with a heated exhale through his nostrils, he slid open the door to his brother’s chambers, and stared the two girls down with the weight of his position. They turned abruptly, one just about to mount his brother, while the other propped up his head, feeding him from a bowl of fresh cut watermelon.
“Get out,” Hanzo growled, and the two girls wasted no time, gathering their things and running past him toward the exit. He didn’t bother to look at them as they fled half clothed. He only had eyes for his wayward brother, who let the back of his head fall against his futon in defeat and annoyance, looking anywhere other than at Hanzo.
“This better be good,” Genji warned, as he sat up, shirtless, smelling of an unnatural husk and expensive sake. He hunched over with his posture, letting his forearms rest on his thighs, as he ran his hands down his face with stress and exhaustion.
“You dishonor yourself, and this family,” Hanzo lectured, immediately countered by the rolling of his brother’s brown eyes.
“And you dishonor this bedroom,” Genji quipped, throwing back the sheets and kipping-up to his feet. He crossed the floor toward his closet, trying to find clothing. Despite his attempts to appear tall and composed, Hanzo noticed the swaggering delay in his motion. He himself never deigned to drink without warranted ceremony, as it slowed the body and the mind. But his brother stood in mockery of his own usual grace, having consumed more than he could safely handle. The drunken stupor was all too evident now.
“I have told you to stop bringing those girls to the palace time and time again,” Hanzo lectured as Genji threw his hands up into the air. “And to stop spending all of your money on frivolity!” Hanzo could feel his anger welling up inside. To make matters worse, Genji went to pour himself another cup of the sake that he kept on the table that ran the length of his chamber wall. Hanzo immediately snatched it out of his hand, slamming it back onto the table. “This is exactly what I am talking about! You are reckless. You have always been reckless, and you endanger our family with your antics.”
“I already told you, I was only a few minutes late to the payload. That is not enough time for the ambush that met us there,” Genji drawled, sliding open one of the walls that led out of his room, and fleeing Hanzo’s wrath. The elder brother followed, noting that the last time Genji told him this story, it was ‘only a few seconds late to the payload.’
“And yet they did. Something that you should have scanned the area for an hour before! You jeopardized the payload, your safety, the safety of our cousins in the branch family, and our relationship with the Matsuda family!” Hanzo’s voice roared down the halls that Genji now paced in drunken clumsiness, to get away from his brother’s lecture.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. We received our payment,” Genji said with an eye roll, but Hanzo grabbed his arm, and flung him around with a single spin.
“You…were…caught!” The venom in Hanzo’s voice was unfamiliar. Genji’s nose wrinkled in snarling indignation. “The very focus of your training; the very thing you were raised not to do! Now we face public exposure, scrutiny from the media, from the police, from the government, and from Overwatch! Do you have any idea the damages that we will have to pave due to your incompetence? Do you have any idea the costs that will come from the family to maintain order? The burden that this places on all of us!” Under the might of Hanzo’s yelling, Genji was silenced. Hanzo looked angry enough to hiss and spit, as Genji’s fists clenched tight enough to prompt veins. The escalation between the two of them seemed to change the world around them. What was once a still night, now morphed with the blowing of the wind, and a rustling of the tree leaves.
"I told you I was sorry!” Genji began to find the might in his own voice now, as he made his way to the gardens, turning to face his brother at last.
“Sorry isn’t good enough Genji. You have to be better! We are the heads of this family. The others look to us for example! And what do you think they see when they look to you? Because all I see is failure and disappointment!”
“Stop it!” Genji barked loud enough to cause Hanzo to stagger for a moment. “Stop acting like you’re my father, and stop treating me like a child!”
“Then do not act like one!” Hanzo’s roar matched the might of Genji’s, turning the fight back to his favor. “Were I your father I would have corrected this behavior from you long ago! Ours was a fool not to!”
“Do not speak of father that way! You dishonor the man that he was in your wrath!”
“He was an imbecile who spared his youngest the wrath that he so heaved upon his eldest! Do you not see, foolish Sparrow? The council sent me here to kill you!”
It was only then that Genji’s eyes fell to the sword that Hanzo now gripped too tightly in his right hand. He stopped in his tracks, now face to face with the root and cause of his brother’s unnaturally righteous fury. But what was once a staggering comprehension, quickly faded into malice and spite. He wrinkled his nose again in that same hiss, and coiled back like a viper, prepared to strike. “And so what? You came to do it? Just like that?”
Hanzo’s expression softened for a brief instant. He realized now that he’d crossed a line with Genji, that he would never make it back from. But he could not relent. He swallowed to reply, but Genji interrupted. “I don’t believe you. I do not believe the council sent you here to kill me. I believe you are using the power you now have as head of the family to remove me from your life!”
“How dare you!” Hanzo spat a curse in Japanese but Genji pressed forward, circling Hanzo now, as he rifled off his accusations.
“You have always resented me, even when we were children. You hated me then because I was unafraid to live my life the way that I choose. You resented me for the joy that I allow myself freely, while you shoulder burdens that only you can lift because you have invented them with your own mind! You are jealous of me, and that is not my fault. It never has been.”
“Silence!” Hanzo hissed the word as a warning. Genji stopped in his tracks, keeping his eyes on his brother. The trust that they once shared could no longer be found in Genji’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if he liked what remained, but he did not have time to ponder. “You will throw yourself before the mercy of the council, during which you will tell them that you have recognized the error of your ways. You will take the next mission that we bestow upon you with gratitude, and you will execute it without flaw. Your training will double until you learn to attend your duties with the entirety of your occupation. And you are cut off from the family’s inheritance until you earn your claim!”
“I will not,” Genji countered in defiance.
“You will do as I command!” Hanzo drew his katana with a quick flourish, the glint of the metal catching the moonlight for an instant, before pointing it just past the back of Genji’s neck. Genji only flinched for a brief instant, but the sake slowed him down enough for Hanzo to see that his threat was taking effect. But just as soon as Hanzo thought his brother would yield, Genji crossed his arms and lifted his chin.
“Do it,” Genji challenged. And there they stood, beneath the night sky. Hanzo’s arm began to falter from holding the katana in place, while Genji remained unmoved, and dangerously close to the sharpened edge of his blade. “Do it,” he repeated, moving closer, as he dropped his arms to the side. Hanzo stepped back to regain the distance, but Genji was walking forward. “Go ahead, brother. I know you want to. You have always wanted to. So do it. No one can stop you. I’m not going to stop you. You’re the head of the family now. You can do whatever you like,” Genji growled, with a sick and deadly undertone.
“…Genji...!” Hanzo whispered the name out, as both a warning and a plea, keeping the sword drawn in position. The curve of the katana all but kissed the fabric of his brother’s top; the only thing protecting the skin of his collarbone from the sword. But Genji had come so close now that Hanzo felt the need to shift his gaze between his brother’s eyes.
The two of them stood there in tension, neither of them moving so much as to breathe. Both of their faces were furious and proud, neither willing to submit to the other. The two dragons of the Shimada clan seemed to have reached the breaking point of their tolerance for one another. But at last the moment came, where Hanzo’s arm faltered. He withdrew his sword slowly, locking eyes until it was sheathed again.
Genji looked him up and down, and spat as he turned to walk away. But the fury welled in Hanzo once more. “Genji,” he called, but his brother continued on. “Genji!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, but Genji threw a hand up in the air in mockery, as he continued his way toward the pavilion. Hanzo’s nostrils flared, and his eyes dilated as his rage boiled to an undisputed peak. His arm tightened once more, drawing the sword that he’d just lowered from his brother’s neck moments ago. The top of his arm surged, with a spiritual electricity, as the twin dragons that he’d earned in his labors answered the call of his summoning. They sprung to life from his tattoo, ripping themselves from the binding of his flesh, and following the beckons of his fury. Before he could even think of what he was doing, he was screaming!
“THE DRAGON BECOMES ME!”
Hanzo had become a blur of blue and white spiritual energy. He dashed across the grounds of the estate with a breath-taking speed, undetectable by the unassisted eye. Genji turned on his heel, eyes widened with horror and disbelief! His hand instinctively reached for the sword that he usually kept on his back, but he was caught unarmed and unawares! In an instant of desperation, he leapt adjacent to the trajectory of his brother’s onslaught, but he hadn’t leapt fast enough!
With every swing of Hanzo’s katana, the dragons ripped the flesh from Genji’s bones. Though the cuts came in a blinding sequence, he could feel each of them tearing through his bones and muscles, with the ease of a knife through butter. It was over in an instant, and Hanzo crouched behind his brother at the completion of his dash. In one lunge, he had dealt his brother what felt like hundreds of fatal cuts, amplified with the energies of the dragon’s fury. Genji’s body fell to the ground with a ghastly thud.
Hanzo stood as he always did after an execution, and flicked his sword so as to remove the excess blood, before sheathing it once more. He had calmed now that the fury from before had been actualized in assault. Then his ears perked to the gagging sound of his brother choking on the ground behind him, and his eyes widened in realization. He turned with his eyes fixed on Genji on the ground, drowning in a mouth-full of his own blood. It was only seconds before the horror overtook him.
“Genji!” Hanzo screamed, in realization of what he’d just done. He slid to his knees to cradle his fatally wounded brother. The blood that poured from Genji’s wounds stained the ground and Hanzo’s hands and legs. Hanzo clasped Genji’s wrist, with the trademark A.Z. from his soulmate’s initials, panicking as his heart thumped in his ears. “Genji! Genji, open your eyes! Stay with me! Genji! Someone help us!”
“Han….zo...!” Genji coughed, with sad eyes looking up to his brother in astonishment and agony.
"I’m sorry! I’m sorry Genji, I’m sorry!” Hanzo was panicking. The guards and attendants came rushing from the halls, surrounding the two of them. Hanzo heard one of them calling for an ambulance as the tears welled hot in his eyes. He clutched his brother with the might of his grip, as the sob crawled forth from his throat.
"...Genji...!"