Spring Came With You

Chapter 2

Genji was, despite his young age, an avid collector of blades and other sharp objects. Hanzo remembers his brother keeping a collection of paper-thin shurikens on the wall, displayed in an artful formation. He remembers his brother explaining to him the differences between various kinds of blades. What the different lengths and names and shapes and materials meant and how they came to be.

Unlike his brother, Hanzo had little interest in blades and weapons. He was proficient in several martial arts and his greatest skill was with a bow, which Genji showed no promise with. But whenever his younger brother did speak about his interest, Hanzo had always listened.

Hanzo sighs, looking at the blade placed on the floorboards before him. It's well maintained, and even its scabbard is polished.

"Brother... " Hanzo murmurs. "I'm sorry. Will you ever forgive me? "

He closes his eyes for a short moment and when he opens them, he turns his head and looks out through the window. The moon shines through it, and he sits for what feels like hours before he gets up and promptly closes the shutters.

The room falls into darkness, the only light is from a candle sitting on his bedside table. it flickers weakly in the room, and just barely provides him with enough light to see.

Hanzo returns to his spot in the center of the room, kneeling back down and getting comfortable before the blade.

" Would you welcome me with open arms? Or would you cast me away? " Hanzo whispers. " Would mother be able to look me in the eyes? Would my ancestors frown upon me? " He shakes his head slowly as he speaks.

Tears prick under his eyelids, and this time he lets them fall however they wish. He almost welcomes them.

He takes a few deep breaths before he picks the blade up and pulls it from its sheath. The blade glistens in the dim light, casting a faint reflection of the candlelight on the wall. Hanzo stares at the blade for some time, watching his reflection on the shiny metal.

He sees only guilt and remorse in his own eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says. His voice cracks and he grips the sword tighter. So tight that his knuckles turn white.

Without another word, he raises the sword, pointing its tip towards his stomach. He takes several deep breaths, preparing for a final thrust when the door to his room suddenly slides open.

Hanzo realizes that he's gotten caught, and scrambles to set his plan in motion, bringing the sword towards himself, but before he has time to inflict any damage, the intruder crashes into him, wrestling the blade out of his hands.

"What in God's good name do you think you are doing?!" McCree yells. The blade falls to the floor with a loud clatter and Hanzo finds himself pinned down against the floorboards. "Have you gone and lost your mind?"

Hanzo trashes around, struggling against McCree's sturdy grip to try and get free, but his arms suddenly feel weak and he can't see through the tears in his eyes. " Let me go !" he shouts. "I demand that you let me go!"

The young American yanks Hanzo from the floor with so much force that Hanzo's arms ache. In a surprisingly swift motion, McCree pulls Hanzo from the floor and into his lap, trapping him in a tight embrace that prevents him from doing much but kick and shout, which Hanzo does.

"Let me go! You cannot do this to me! You can't stop me! Let me go!" Hanzo cries. His kicks with his legs, lashing out the best he can while being restrained. His prosthetics scrape against the floor, creating frantic patterns in the wooden boards. "Let me go!"