Storm - Overwatch High, Volume 1

Chapter Three

Hanzo had never studied with anybody else before. Studying was always a time he treasured as his own; his father, respecting nothing else, at least let him work in peace. Sometimes Hanzo thought his father valued his son's education more than his son himself.

But to Jesse's family, homework seemed less of a sacred art, and more of something you got out of the way as fast as possible so you could have fun.

The moment Jesse sat down, he pulled out all six of his textbooks and spread them on the table, and proceeded to write faster than Hanzo had seen anyone write, with his forehead almost pressed to the desk, his hair mopping the notebooks. By the time Hanzo had finally arranged his books and began on his assignment, Jesse had slapped aside his math homework, some pages slipping off the table, and started on the next.

"What are you doing?" Hanzo squeaked.

"Homework."

Hanzo stood up in his chair, leaning over to look at the piece Jesse had finished. "Your handwriting is horrendous."

"Aww! Thanks, pumpkin."

"That was not a compliment."

"Compliments are in the eye of the beholder," Jesse said, then grimaced. "Whatever that means."

"That is the problem. Nothing you say means anything," Hanzo said.

"You're learning!" Jesse pulled his head out of his notebook long enough to prod at Hanzo's workspace with a pencil. "Come on. Sooner you finish, sooner you're done."

"That's a tautology," Hanzo protested.

"Don't go usin' those huge words on me. Make me feel like a chump."

"What the hell is a chump?"

Hanzo flinched as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Sorry. I didn't..." He trailed off, and stared fixedly at the page in front of him as shame filled his head. There was a tense silence in which Hanzo was convinced he was about to be struck. Then Jesse, quietly, scooted his chair closer.

"Hey," he said. Hanzo squeezed his eyes shut. "Hey, Hanzo. It's okay. I ain't offended. You done nothing wrong."

Hanzo kept his eyes closed. The bruises on his shoulder began to burn. Images flashed in front of the darkness and desperately, he pressed his forehead to the table, trying to shut them out.

"Do you need anything?" Jesse whispered.

"Space," Hanzo choked out.

"What?"

"Leave. Give me space." Hanzo drew in a sharp breath through his nose. Shouts.

"Okay. Okay, um," Jesse said. "You sure? I can get water, or somethin."

Hanzo wrapped his arms around his head, but the shouts only grew louder. The lights in his room flashed on and rough hands wrestled him out of bed.

"What are you doing asleep? Get up."

Hanzo fought. He was only half awake. Had he been lucid, he would have obeyed.

"Idiot boy. Get the fuck out of bed." The hands that dragged him up were shaking with fury. Hanzo stumbled, almost losing his balance as he tripped on the hem of his kimono.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He choked on his own tongue, then went on like a broken record. "I'm sorry."

"Save your breath. Your brother has information. Would you like to hear it?"

Anger and fear and a flood of pure hatred. "The hell does he know? He's the one who's been sneaking out at night. Why would you listen to him anyway?"