Storm - Overwatch High, Volume 1

Chapter Four

The sky was still an early-morning gray when Hanzo awoke. For a moment he didn't know where he was; he rolled over and reached for the lamp on his nightstand, only to find that neither lamp nor stand were by his bed. Momentary panic jolted through him and he sat up, staring around with wide eyes. Then he saw the poster for some film with The Good, The Bad & The Ugly scrawled across the picture, and he immediately settled back. He was in Jesse's room.

Sometime during the night, they'd switched spots. Jesse was now sprawled across the floor, and Hanzo was sleeping on his bed, surrounded by plush pillows and draped in blankets. It was strange, but comfortable; at his father's mansion they slept on mats on the floor, and Hanzo had never realized what he was missing.

He tried to go back to sleep. None of the McCrees had risen yet, and Hanzo didn't intend to get up before his hosts. But he was better rested than he had been in weeks. He couldn't settle down.

Eventually, after he'd memorized every up and down of Jesse's room and had studied the posters much harder than they deserved, he crawled to the edge of the bed and stuck out a foot, nudging Jesse in the small of the back. Jesse grumbled in his sleep and tried to brush him away. Hanzo ignored him, and kept prodding.

"Jesse," he said. "Wake up."

Jesse mumbled something that sounded like "Don't touch my hair." Hanzo, who wasn't touching his hair, barely stifled a snort.

"Baka. Get up, please. I want to shower."

He gave Jesse a particularly emphatic jab to the ribs, and with a yelp, Jesse rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position, squinting around for the source of the pain. "The hell? That hurt." Then he saw Hanzo, and immediately went red in the face. "Uh... howdy, pardner."

Hanzo couldn't stop grinning. "Sound sleeper?"

"Somethin' like that." Jesse sat up all the way, scratching his head. His hair was a thick and tangled rat's nest, and bits of it stuck straight out like wings around his ears. "What time is it?"

Hanzo shrugged. "Almost five, I think. I couldn't sleep."

"Five? In the morning?" Jesse looked as if he'd been slapped in the face. "Whaddyou think you're doing, waking up at a time like that? Ungodly." He pulled the blankets back up to his shoulders and rolled over. "Get me up when it's six."

"So I'm supposed to just watch you sleep," Hanzo said.

"Whatever makes you tick."

Hanzo didn't respond. He waited until Jesse's breathing had slowed again, then prodded him in the arm. Jesse groaned and threw the pillow over his head. "Lemmealone."

"Despicable host," Hanzo said. "He won't even let me bathe."

"Figure it out, smartass." The words were muffled, but Hanzo could still hear the smirk in his voice. "And I ain't gonna scrub you down. That's not on the service list."

"So rude." Hanzo stood, and carefully stepped over Jesse with one long stride, before snatching his backpack from the corner of the room. He flicked the light on as he left, sending bright orange light spilling across the room. Jesse groaned something profane.

Hanzo spent several minutes searching for a towel, and another several learning how to turn on the shower. He found himself wishing he had brought his own soap; the stuff that Jesse used smelled like goat. He wasn't exactly in a position to complain, though, so he simply crinkled his nose and suffered through.

He was in the process of working shampoo into his tangled hair when there came a knock at the door.

"Need anythin', Hanzo?" Jesse asked, voice muffled.