Chapter Text
Hanzo sat there on the edge of the bed his near sterilised room; complete with white walls, bed sheets, furniture and floor. If there wasn’t a window in the room you could suppose this was some sort of psychiatric room. He wouldn’t even call it his room, just a room with a bed assigned to him as somewhere to rest with his physical therapy and recovery. Unlike other patients Hanzo didn’t have much in the way of personal belongings to decorate the place, so it remained its sterilised white.
His hands folded and unfolded a small sheet of paper on his lap; with well worn dog-eared corners, folds that now tore the paper and at some point the paper was scrunched up but now smoothed out to the best of its ability.
Unfolding it out completely he glanced down at the fading handwriting on it, he knew it by heart but reading it again always seemed to calm him down before heading out.
‘Dear Hanzo
Just wanted to say I made it back alright, leg all bandaged up an healing well. Don’t need to fret about me, this ain’t the first time I've been by accidently shot, would you believe. (Air rifle when I was 15)
Nice aiming you got there, don’t know what training you’ve had but it’s real impressive. Ever competed?
I really hope I do get to see you again, you look like a real nice fellow. Real pretty too. I ain’t normally one of those ‘fate’ believers but I think fate might be on our side.
You keep yourself well Hanzo,
Regards
Jesse xx’
Taking a deep breath in, he folded the paper away into a small wooden box at his side, a collection of small merger possessions he had rested in it now; some photos, a thin yellow silk scarf, feather and worn keychain. Folding the lid over he ran his hand over the two dragons carved with once intense care over the box, you could see the detail in each of the faces of the dragons as they danced around each other but with age and constant hands rubbing the carving, the detail was worn down.
Picking it up with care, he slipped off the edge of the bed, wobbling slightly he managed to get over to the cupboard where he placed the box in the depths of a bag in there.
Closing the door and stood back from it, doing so he stepped in front of the long mirror beside it. Hanzo couldn’t help but stare at the reflection; no longer stared back the heir to the Shimada company worth billions, who was tailored in both fine suites and traditional hakuma and seen as a well respected man. Always well groomed and looking fresh. Who had every day, hour, minute planned out for him.
That was all long gone as now a tired Hanzo stood in its place; bags under his eyes, hair overly long and worn looking, wearing a basic blue shirt and sweat pants cut above the knee revelling the most changed thing of him; two prosthetic legs shining back at him.
His new limbs had been part of him for nearly a couple of months now, with daily physical therapy to get his muscles and body used to the new appendages. He wasn’t ungrateful for them, god no. If he didn’t have them he wasn’t sure what he’d be doing right now. But every time he glanced at them all he could see were the long list of mistakes he’d made.
*-*-*
His whole life he was groomed and perfected to be the next head of the family company; learning everything he’d ever need to know with dealing with the financial based company. He was one of the few people out there who actually enjoyed the organised routine and management of everything, things happened at set times and completed to those set times. Life was always sorted, things always went to plan.
Until they didn’t. Hanzo’s younger brother, Genji; though always being a bit of a wild card and doing things his own way, did take notice to the company and put effort into knowing the basics. But soon the younger brother found something and began digging into it. The happy cheerful brother always carrying a good story or funny joke disappeared, he edged with weariness and fear near anyone of the family business.
The term ‘It went to shit’ couldn’t ring any truer when Genji snuck into Hanzo’s room one late night as a complete emotional wreck, babbling on about how the Shimada company was corrupt and he couldn’t allow Hanzo to take over.
Proof was chucked at him with files upon files from over the years of money disappearing to unknown accounts to then reappear with triple the amount, warehouses and storage facilities were bought in the companies name listing nothing in them, but photographic proof from Genji showed them filled with crates and other ‘un-speakable’ things, quoted from the younger Shimada. More evidence was shown revealing smaller companies, land and properties being force bought in extreme ways. Some accounts showing people who once owned them dead in unexplained ways.
The truth was there, blatantly staring at him like some raging animal; the cold hard truth dripping from its maw. But Hanzo couldn’t accept it. The company did so much good with working with charities, helping support other companies and much more. He was the one working with the company the most between the two and got to see the inner workings of it all. There wasn’t anything corrupt about it.
The once close brothers split after that night; Hanzo focusing on the company and Genji keeping away from it all and becoming more reckless and self indulged. He missed his brothers fun but the younger brought it on himself with such huge accusations.
Death struck the family not too soon after the brothers conflict. Hanzo’s father passing away meant the company was quite literary dropped on his shoulders, everything was down to him. Most people would need time to take this on but not Hanzo, after a day of mourning he was running the company; going to meetings, checking over new proposals, the whole lot.
Whispers soon began ringing around Hanzo from the company’s head board; the elders of the family and wisest. They loved Hanzo; hated Genji, especially for the fact the young brother now took no care what-so-ever in the company and held no respect to the family. Those whispers were small but grew louder claiming Genji was tarnishing the family name and company with his childish antics.
Hanzo’s rage with his brother grew with the elders; until one day while working late at the office one of the highest elders came to him, not even coming into his office as he stood by the door like some waiting dark spirit. The only thing he spoke was; Deal with it.
And he did. Genji and Hanzo got into the biggest fight ever between the two. Within minutes the verbal fight had changed into a full blown physical fight. Both, at a point, grabbed for their respected katana’s and duelled with them. Hanzo’s memory of the event flicks between hours of fighting or mere minutes before Genji was lying on the tatami, thick slashes across the younger’s body as blood pool out over the mats.
The sight of his near dead brother never did haunt him, no, it was the cold words he yelled at him instead that stuck to him the most.
“You are nothing but a disgrace to this family and it’s name. You’ve caused nothing but grief and ruin as you prance around with no care to how it may effect others around you. You have failed the family Genji, you have failed me. You will always fail to please someone else, no one cares for your petty life. No one. Save us all some trouble and leave, never show your face again here. You’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time already.”
The last words he ever heard from the younger Shimada was a broken and soulful “Brother?”.
“I am not your brother.”
Hanzo thought, hoped, Genji might linger but he didn’t. Gone within seconds of Hanzo’s last words. No one saw the younger Shimada leave, no one cared. Either the younger planned on running away and pre-packed a bag and hid it somewhere on the grounds or just left with only his bloody katana in hand. Nobody knew.
Like the death of his father Hanzo didn’t let himself morn his brother leaving; even though he forced Genji to leave regret coiled in him like a disgusted snake. With removing his brother the board seemed impressed and saw it as some sort of initiation test; which he passed.
A few months passed with Hanzo leading the company, well used to all the near daily meetings until one was scheduled after hours and organised by the board elders. Meeting beforehand with them the elders looked almost excited, stating this meeting would show the true inner workings of the company and hand over Hanzo’s last part of the company to rule over.
Waiting until the entire building was near empty the elders lead him to the most elegant and disused meeting room as it was heavily stylised in traditional manner; with delicate paper paintings around the walls and tatami mats across the floor. Already seated in the room were a collection of finely dressed men and women sitting comfortably around the table, all looking like vipers ready to attack.
The elders introduced Hanzo as the new head of the family and company, their guests to treat him with such respect. They then introduced the rest of the people around, names sounded unfamiliar at first but familiar as a distant panicked voiced muttered them.
Conversation between the table were simple at first; questions of stock prices, holdings on places and up coming meetings. It all shifted when they spoke with more excitement about their own personal businesses.
“I was able to get those off-shore accounts sorted out, we’ll have double the money soon enough if we play it right.”
“I got details on our current ‘problem’ family. He wont be able to say no to us now that we have leverage over him.”
“The new shipment of cocaine came in smoothly, able to pay off the dock inspectors to give us the clean pass. Untraceable back to us.”
“I got someone sending some people over to get the new product primed and ready.”
Hanzo sat there for the entire hour the meeting went on shaking, cold sweat dripping down his back as each conversation made him want to hurl. It was all true; the snarling creature of the cold truth was right, wounded and neglected, it was still right.
Genji was right.
After the meeting passed, Hanzo grateful he didn’t faint nor start screaming, kept the calm and collective act up. Thanking them all and so pleased to be working with such powerful people. Once all gone Hanzo turned on the elders roaring at how they told him Genji was just lying, trying to scare him from his new position as head of the company to gain it himself. They made him exile his own brother over this.
“We didn’t tell you to exile him, just ‘deal’ with him. You did what you did in your own actions. Did you truly think the company has lasted so long with basic deals and trades with other companies? Hah, boy, you have much to learn of the true reality of life. Good deals done with bad people are the deals that get the best result.”
When Hanzo returned home he broke down; crying in such pain for believing everything everyone said to him for so long. He always treasured the fact the company was so pure and strong, that compared to the thousands of corrupted companies leaked out, theirs was always clean. Lies.
Worst, he was made to believe Genji was trying to ruin them when truly he wanted to help Hanzo before he got dragged into the darkness of the company.
Hanzo lashed out, not having had a tantrum in years he crashed around in his office. Resenting the day he cried in his young joy when his father told him in that very office that this room would all be his as he’d take over the company. Stupid young fool. After a near hour of roaring like some trapped beast he settled in a corner, still shaking and broken. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t live a life knowing he’d be hurting hundreds of people by simply agreeing to some trade of weapons to gain some extra money.
If he wanted to leave, he wanted to take the company down with him and he knew exactly how. Thankful Genji and he were close when growing up, Hanzo was able to rush into Genji’s old room; still untouched since the day he left, and run to a corner of the room. In youth Genji pried some boards in his room up so he could stash stuff for the two of them and no one in the house knew about it.
Pulling up those same boards Hanzo near cried in joy as the folders, files and more Genji had complied against the company sat there. Grabbing a empty backpack from the cupboard he shoved everything into it before dashing to his own room. Yanking out the largest backpack he had of a old camping bag, used once, he filled it with clothes; quickly adding a small box of personal items into the heart of the bag. He packed Stormbow away into it’s case as well before slinging the camping bag over his shoulders and gabbing the case and other backpack.
Not daring to leave though the front of the house, nor take a car, he climbed out the window, crossing the courtyards of the estate perfectly, all timed to avoid guards and watchmen before scaling a tree to get over the enclosing wall of the estate.
He didn’t look back once he got to the top of the wall, not daring it look back at the lie he’d been living for so long. He did, however hesitate as he sat on the wall. He was so used to things being timed accordingly for him, he didn’t need to worry about sorting his life. But now he would, he had too.
He ran and ran as far as he could, keeping to shadows and watching out for lingering eyes. Only when he thought he was far enough from the estate did he get a taxi exclaiming to get out of Hanamura as fast as he could.
*-*
After a few changes of transport he got to Tokyo where the last leg of his plan would set. Knowing full well that Hanamura was fully under the grasp of the Shimada company, (that one meeting he had confirmed that the police were heavily paid off by the family) he decide that Tokyo would be a better place to hand in the information.
The plan went better than he expected. One phone call to the police and mentioning he had proof and evidence of the Shimada company dark dealings, had a agent arranging a drop point; Hanzo mentioning he didn’t want to be part of this and just wanted to hand it over. Claiming he was only a concerned citizen.
The backpack was picked up by the agent in a street;Hanzo sitting up on a roof watching out, Stormbow to his side. The expression on the agents face looked like a child getting their dream answered; the man flicking through the files as he laughed with joy. Before the man left he turned to dark alley exclaiming ‘Thank you!’ to whatever good force gave him such information. Hanzo nodded in self approval before moving away.
A mere week later and the fall of the Shimada company began; reports flooding every channel of how someone handed in enough evidence to convict them of a series of large crimes before a full investigation could be put in to delve into darker works. Word did spread on the location of the Shimada brothers; some saying they were killed, that they ran off together at the sight of the companies fall or, closer to what actually happened, they had a falling out resulting in one bringing the company down and thus spurring the other to hunt down for revenge.
Not completely true but there about as Hanzo left Tokyo once the fall of the Shimada began. He’d been to Yokohama to Nagoya to Osaka and then Kyoto, all on his search for his brother. Hoping someone might have spotted him.
He’d been travelling for near three months; his idea of disguises at that time were large hoodies and shaving his beard off. Travelling in public had him keeping to shadows and back alleys to avoid main onlookers.
It was nearing dusk when Hanzo left his, quit frankly, crappy hotel as he wondered to the train station. There was a large neglected warehouse collection not far from the station, slipping in would save time and prying eyes. Scaling the chain link fence with his camping bag and Stormbow’s case; currently a instrument case, he got in.
Hanzo made his way down between two large warehouses, the road between them large enough to let two lorries pass. Once stepping down the road he felt something shiver in him, recoiling itself with walking down the road. He shook the feeling away, caring more for making his train than some cold shiver.
A sudden rumble of engines ignited once Hanzo made it halfway down the alley; trucks pull up at either end of the entrances, their trailers blocking the exits. A quick scan around showed no doors on either buildings flanking him, nor crates, boxes or anything to use as cover.
And cover was what he needed when a bullet was shot right in front of his feet, making him leap backwards in fright. Before he knew it five more rounds were shot; three in one leg and two in the other. Hanzo hit the ground hard, at least two bullets scraping bone as he bit down a scream of pain. Another round of bullets followed; shoulders and his right side hit.
Pain burned itself into Hanzo as laid seething in pain, unable to curl up with the bullet at his side, blood began to bloom and pool there. Unaware that a truck must’ve pulled back its trailer to let a car in, noticing only when doors slam shut and two sets of arms yank him to his knees.
A man he remembered from that shady meeting stood before him looking worse than when he first met; his hair mussed up though it looks like he tried to brush it, eyes tried and skin greasy.
“Thank fuck we found you Hanzo,” he sneered as he leaned forward to the kneeing Hanzo “Thought I was going to loose my entertainment.”
He let out a shuddered breath before a fist suddenly collided with his face; first both cheeks then left eye. All areas blossom with pain as he spat out blood once the fists stop coming.
“Do you really think it wouldn’t take us long to figure out who gave us in? Those elders of yours sure did put a good fight on protecting you. Shame…” he drawled as he clicked his fingers and as two men appeared holding large hammers.
“For a noble ‘head of the family’, you are quite flighty when it comes to abandoning ship. That wont be happening again Hanzo, you’re mine now.” He stepped back, letting the two men holding Hanzo up lift higher to kick his legs out from under him.
Hanzo sucked in a frightened breath as he tried to pull his legs back but bullet wounds made it slow and hard. Before he knew it there was a near heart stopping crack that echoed down the alley. Hanzo wailed in pain, tears rushing down his face as the throbbing pain proceeded; again and again and again.
His chest tightened up, lungs unable to get enough air as they near choked. Blood dripped from his mouth as he choked up along from biting his tongue. The sounds of tortured assault rang too loudly to him, that first deafening ~crack~ made him grit his teeth. All his nerves tingled over him in a wave of trembling fear.
Was it twice they hit or twenty? Hanzo wasn’t sure but grateful when they stop as the pain made minutes feel like hours.
There was a sudden commotion around him as he laid paralysed in pain. As the men holding and assaulting his legs disappeared from sight.
Yells and shouts were exchanged in Japanese and English, gun fire echoed around the alley with screams dancing about. Hanzo didn’t care for what happened around him, just grateful the pain stopped.
Eyes loosing focus, the last Hanzo remembers of that alley was a young man in black body gear rush up yelling ‘Injured civilian, commander.’, as a tall man steps close by, examining him over before shaking his head slowly.
He blacked out after that.
*-*
Hanzo awoke to blinding white lights and the sounds of his heart beat beeping away on a machine. Eyes regained focus to notice large padded bandages covering parts of his arms, and feeling one tightly wound round his side as he takes a shuddered breath in.
There wasn’t much pain, just a numbing feeling of it, like having a migraine begin to flourish. A crick in his back appeared, grumbling in annoyance he pushed his elbows down to stretch only to feel his legs slip forward. After some careful repositioning and pulling himself up, he couldn’t hold the hollowed gasp that escaped him when he saw that the blankets suddenly dropped to the mattress just bellow his knees.
He didn’t get time to take in the sudden loss before the door opened and the tall man from the alley appeared. Eyes working better he saw that the man had warm dark sun kissed skin, scars littered any part of exposed skin and wore a very well worn beanie on his head.
“Glad to see you’re awake, hoped to speak to you before I left.” He took a seat from the corner and dragged it to the bed side, “The names Gabriel, I’m the commander of a small private military group; get assigned to do clean up of gangs mainly and other issues. Been tracking the remnants of that gang that attacked last night for months, since the Shimada company collapsed they’ve all been running for it. Impressive thing you did there, especially to your own company, Mr. Shimada.”
Hanzo tensed up at the name, fear picked at his expression.
“Don’t worry, haven’t told anyone. You’re in a private ward under a false name. Now what I want to know is why did you decided to topple not only one of the biggest companies in Japan but also your own?”
He took a moment to take in what Gabriel said, if he truly wasn’t under a different name and being protected, then doors, windows and walls would’ve been knocked down by reporters.
So Hanzo explained it all, everything. From being groomed to be the next heir, Genji’s suspicions, how his father died making him head of the company. He also explained how his elders tricked him into attacking and exiling Genji; this made Gabriel bristle slightly about hearing Hanzo hurting the younger brother.
“I was taken to this meeting, all the heads of crime organisations were there. For years I believed my brother was trying to scare me from being the new head of the company but I realised then and there he wanted to protected me from them.” Tears slipped down Hanzo’s face when he spoke, “I decided after the meeting I needed to do something. I knew Genji kept all the evidence he complied together and knew it would be a step to change. So I took it, disregarding the risks.”
Hanzo quickly explained giving the evidence to the police in Tokyo and how he was looking for his brother now, he threw in a quick question if Gabriel knew of Genji’s location. Only reply was ‘I was hoping you’d know.’.
At the end Gabriel sat there with one leg resting on his knee, deep in thought before giving a curt nod to himself.
“Thank you Mr. Shimada for that, and for what you did you will have saved countless lives with disbanding the dark ties your company had.” Gabriel got up in one swift movement before moving to the door, he stood there as he lingered for a moment before he turned round.
“I know it’s not my business to ask but I have a friend, Swiss and brilliant, and she and a technical friend of hers create some of the best prosthetics I've ever seen. And trust me, they work.” Gabriel looked away briefly, sadness clouded his features, “If I send your name to her and she sees it’s from me, you’ll have a new set of legs crafted to the highest ability tech is for you in a few months. See it as a gift for you breaking the Shimada company, something a lot of people have been desperate to do.”
“I - I would greatly like that, thank you Gabriel.” Hanzo in bed gave a small bow of thanks.
Gabriel shook his head, “If we’d moved a bit quicker we could have had you out of there before shit hit the fan, we didn’t realise their movements were planned to attack you.”
He turned to leave fully, hand on door handle as he moved out.
“I’ll put word out to some friends of mine to look out for a Genji Shimada.”
Again Hanzo bowed.
“Oh, last thing,” Gabe peeked his head out round the door, “Jesse sends his regards.”
“Wait… what?!”
*-*-*
Hanzo shakes the flash of memories away as he meanders down the corridors of the small clinic in Switzerland, heading to the gym to meet up with his personal therapy assistant. A small French lady, Lou, awaits for him outside the gym doors, quickly running through the normal questions of how he’s feeling and if everything is working okay.
Today he’s placed on a running machine, Lou informing him that he should only be only here for another few weeks and he could leave once a final large test was taken.
Hanzo goes for the light jog on the machine, he faces out over a small gym room bellow him.
There’s a small class down there; one row of people facing the gym he’s in with punching pads on their hands while the others punch into their partners pads. He can see that the people punching are missing hands to arms, clearly a class to warm them with their new appendages.
Gazing down at the class Hanzo spots a older man holding a set of punching pads, fading blonde to white hair with scars marring his face. He’s grinning brightly as the person punching him hits hard, making the older man have to change his stance every few punches. Their partners left arm is missing to the elbow, but it doesn’t stop them from hitting hard.
The class stops, pads and gloves removed as they start to exit the class. The older man glances up to Hanzo, who still pads along on the machine, the man scrunches his face up before eyes flash wide. He nudges his partner who is trying to take the glove off his normal hand; brown mousey hair tied up, with some sort of scruff developing round their jaw. Unable to see his face as they look the other way.
The elder gets the younger attention with a sharp slap on their shoulder before forcefully turning them to look up at Hanzo. He near trips up on the running machine, grasping at the side bars as Jesse stares bright eyed at him, a large toothy grin suddenly slapping his face as he waves his prosthetic arm at Hanzo manically.
It takes a few seconds for everything to click before Hanzo returns the wave but also a smile back to Jesse.
The meeting, if you could call it that, is brief as the class leader for Jesse’s ushers them out. Jesse waving brightly even as he is dragged out of the gyms doors.
Hanzo’s mind goes blank for a bit as he runs, trying to process the sheer random luck of seeing Jesse here.
“Fate is on our side I believe.”