Chapter Text
Hanzo had been on a solo mission in Japan digging up information on the Vishkar Corporation and their involvement with some high level Japanese politicians. While staking out near the hotel where the conference between the two groups would be meeting, his com went offline. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Hanzo, he often shut off his device on reconnaissance missions, not wanting to be disturbed. But slowly, the hours started slipping by, and concern started to grow back at Gibraltar.
“Agent Hanzo’s communicator has been deactivated for 13 hours.” Athena’s mechanical voice filled one of the smaller conference rooms on the base.
“Typically, he only leaves it deactivated for an average of 5-6 hours, then turing it back on to give us an update on the situation.”
Genji and McCree sat around the oblong glass table listening to Athena’s report, with Winston standing towards the front of the room next to the blue screen with Athena’s symbol.
“Ahem, well,” Winston turned to the rest of the group, “ This is definitely unusual, even for Hanzo.” The scientist adjusted his glasses, “I gathered you two here because you seem to be the closest to him. Maybe you could help us decide what to do in this situation. Sending another agent over could make us more noticeable to Vishkar surveillance, but if nothing is done, we could be leaving agent Hanzo in danger.”
McCree looked over to Genji, who remained motionless, his arms crossed and body language unreadable.
“Well I say mission be damned,” McCree waved his mechanical arm in the air, “We got an agent possibly stranded half way around the world, if we sit here an’ do nothin’, who knows what could happen-”
“No.”
The rejection had come from Genji. McCree turned to face him.
“Yer gonna hafta’ elaborate, partner. I know you and Hanzo have that taste for bein’ mysterious, but I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”
Genji looked up, green visor leveling with McCree.
“Hanzo is fine. This mission was a simple one. Get in, get information, get out. No contact with the enemy, and with no serious crime activity in the area. I know my brother. He has gotten himself out of situations far worse than you could imagine.”
“I dunno, darling, I can imagine quite a bit.”
“Jesse. I know you care for him, but I’ve known Hanzo my whole life. Trust me, he will return to us.”
-
After the meeting, Genji went looking for Zenyatta. It was late in the evening, and around this time the two of them usually meditated, or just talked about what was on their minds. Whichever seemed to serve them best that day.
Genji found him in their usual meet-up place outside the commons room. He smiled under his faceplate, just seeing Zenyatta made him feel lighter. Zenyatta changed his life for the better after he agreed to become his student, and since then Genji hadn’t spent a day without him if he didn’t have to.
“Ah! Genji, how are you my pupil?” Zenyatta walked over to Genji, his orbs floating closely around around his neck. While in the base, the monk preferred to walk instead of float, as he did while on the battle field or during meditation.
“I’m doing well, master.” Genji offered a curt bow, and when he looked back up, Zenyatta seemed to be smiling.
“What did Winston need you for? He sounded quite urgent.”
“Just an issue concerning Hanzo.”
“Oh, is he alright?”
“I’m confident in my brothers abilities, I’m sure he’s fine.”
-
That night as Genji slept, he dreamt he was kneeling in a small, poorly lit concrete room. There were no windows, and the only source of light was an old lamp hanging from the ceiling. He began to realize that he could not move. It felt as thought he had his arms handcuffed behind his back, and a small pull told him that the handcuffs were also chained to the floor. He heard a click behind him, followed by the high pitched creaking of a metal door being opened. Footsteps came from behind, slowly made their way around his right side, then stopped directly in front of him. They belonged to a tall East Asian man with a neat haircut in a button-up shirt tucked into suit pants held up by a tasteful black leather belt.
“[I heard you’re still not talking. My boys haven’t been able to get a peep out of you.]” The man was speaking in Japanese. He sounded calm and casual.
“[But I guess as much should be expected from the heir of a criminal empire, disgraced and disowned as he might be.]” He began to roll up his sleeves, revealing a tattooed right arm, covered in black waves swallowing up bright red flowers. He knelt down and came face to face with Genji, who could now make out a faded scar that stretched from the inner left corner of the man’s eye, diagonally across his cheek, to stop at his jaw.
“[It’s a good thing I’m patient.]”
With that the man stood back up and delivered a swift kick to the side of Genji’s head.
-
Genji woke up in a cold sweat. He knew that tattoo. He knew that man. And he knew he had to get to Japan as fast as he could.
-
The next morning, Hana was walking from the kitchen with a box of brightly colored, sugary cereal, and the intent to play games for the entirety of her day off from training. While going back to her dorm, she saw Zenyatta standing in front of what she believed was Genji’s room. The door was open and Zenyatta was just standing there, staring into the space.
“Hey, Zen!” Hana’s call seemed to startle him from his trance. He looked over to her, but was still visibly upset.
“Oh, good morning Ms. Song.”
“I’ve told you, you can call me Hana.” Zenyatta hummed in response, then turned back again to look into the empty room.
“Is something wrong? Where’s Genji? You two are usually training together by now.”
“I was wondering the same. I was waiting for him where we meet to train, but when he never came I decided to go looking for him. l couldn’t find him anywhere on base, and everyone I saw said that they had not seen him yet today either. I went looking for him in his room but…”
Hana looked into the room herself. Genji’s bed wasn’t made and some of his draws were left open, but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary.
“He’s never left without telling me first…” Zenyatta continued, “He took his swards, his extra shuriken… He’s just gone…”