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“Just shut up,” Hanzo scoffed as he sat Genji in his bathroom. He looked his younger brother over with a disdainful eye. The sixteen-year-old boy was a pain, always in trouble and causing him trouble. Hanzo crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to imitate the look their father gave when he was displeased with his sons.
It worked, as Genji’s head dropped with his shoulders. His school uniform was wrinkled and untidy, as usual. A black beanie pulled down over his ears. Mud caked along the pant cuffs. Mother would be cross and have someone yell at them again for proper etiquette when entering the castle. They were the heirs to the Shimada empire. The entire Shimada legacy rested on their shoulders. Destiny was a burden.
His eyes returned to Genji and his latest rebellion. Hanzo tsked and shook his head, snatching the hat off his head and threw it aside, getting a first-hand glance at the offense Genji came to him with. Genji’s shoulders sank further at his brother’s chagrin. His hair fell about his shoulders, a sick bleached blond color. Hanzo’s lips pursed. “Story.” He ordered.
Genji looked towards the bottom of the door. “Ryo bleached his hair last week,” Genji explained. “I liked it. It looked really cool. I thought I could do it myself and--”
“Enough,” Hanzo reached out and ran a hand through his brother’s hair, inspecting the damage. “You killed it. You should have spent the extra money and went to a salon, like your friend.”
“I thought it would be easy,” Genji mumbled, his hands began to play with the buttons of his jacket. For the past several years, Genji had attempted to grow his hair long. The men of his family all seemed to strive for shoulder length or longer hair. Genji though managed to grow it just long enough to be sloppy. It was too short to pull back in a bind but too long to stay out of his eyes. Father teased him relentlessly about how child like he looked at all times. Mother thought he was a disgrace. “Father is going to kill me.” He looked up. “Aniki, he will be so angry.”
“That is your problem, Genji,” Hanzo moved back and picked up scissors. “You never think things through. You react. Then you come to me to fix your problems. I won’t always be there to fix things.” There was too much damage done. Genji's hair was hard and crisp in his hand. It was foolish of him to try and attempt bleaching his hair on his own. He would have to cut his hair short.
He gripped Genji's shoulders and forced him to turn and sit on the stool he had brought into the bathroom and went about fixing everything Genji had done. “Why did you do this?”
“I like the way it looked on Ryo,” Genji mumbled and watched the yellow straw that was his hair hit the bathroom floor. Ryo was popular. The captain of the basketball team. Last week he showed up with blond hair and told the coach off. He had been suspended from a game, but Genji admired that. No one talked back to the coach. The next day three other boys bleached their hair out. Soon, the whole team consisted of nothing but blond boys. Except for Genji.
"Look at the little prince," Ryo had mocked him. "He wouldn't dare to change. Lord Hanzo would kick his ass right back in line."
“That is bullshit,” Hanzo said, picked up a spray bottle from the counter and spritzed his head with water. He ran a comb through it, looking for the stray hairs that were uneven. “Why?” He asked a second time.
Hanzo would not ask again, Genji knew that from experience. “I am tired of people comparing me to you.” He mumbled out, moving his fidgeting to the hem of his shirt, twisting it in his hands. “It’s all I hear at school. I am Hanzo’s little brother. Wasn’t Hanzo amazing? Hanzo this and Hanzo that. How I am nothing but Hanzo's little prince brother.” He sighed. “I’m not you.”
“I don’t want you to be me, either,” He smiled a little, tilting Genji's head to the right and trimming the hair around his ear. “Genji, you are nothing but a pain for me. Do you know what I hear all the time, how wonderful Genji is at basketball? How fast Genji is at track. How many girls Genji goes out within a week.” He tugged the hair at the back of Genji's head slightly, the smile still on his face. “It is aggravating being compared to the likes of you. I have a persona to keep there. I am the mysterious Hanzo Shimada, the future crime boss. My little brother then runs around and tackle hugs me in the middle of the halls. It is bad for my image.” He knocked Genji on the head playfully s he finished and set the scissors down. “Now Father cannot see this blond hair. It will be worse than the time he caught you with pierced ears.” Hanzo smiled.
"You had the pierced ears first," Genji grumbled out.
"My hair covered my ears. You knew Mother would not allow you to wear your headphones at the dinner table. You drew attention to yourself."
"Father still grounded me."
"And me!" Hanzo laughed. "You are a rat and tattled on me!"
"Mother asked where I got them and who would have brought me to such a place. I panicked."
Hanzo shook his head. "This time, you paid a salon to do this."
Genji smiled a little, “Of course, who else would cut my hair. In the end, my hair is going to be black, they won't even know about me looking like this," Genji relaxed a little. His brother complained often about his behaviors, but in the end, he knew Hanzo would always take care of him. "Thank you, Aniki,” He moved to turn and look back, but Hanzo forced him into his seat with a strong hand.
“Oh no. I do not trust you to dye your own hair.” He stated. “You are nothing but trouble.”
Genji stayed seated and looked back as Hanzo moved to the bag he had brought in. Hanzo was always aloof, even at school. Mysterious and cool, he did not join any sports or any clubs that Genji was aware of. It was unusual to have someone with so much power not be more involved with the student body. He was the class president though. He ruled the school with the presence of mind that came from a natural leader. Most of the teachers would not cross him. Hanzo held himself as the true ruler of all of Hanamura. No one was to forget that.
Often, upperclassmen would come to Genji, trying to get close to Hanzo. He often wondered how many of his friends liked him, and how many were using him to get close to the mysterious class president. It was part of the reason why Genji refused friends over.
“I was thinking of growing a beard,” Hanzo said, breaking the silence that fell between them. He walked over with a bowl filled with hair dye, stirring the contents with a small red brush. He reached a handout and forced Genji to turn his face the wall again with a single finger.
“What?” Genji laughed at the thought. Their father had a beard and, while it looked regal on him, Hanzo had such a baby face.
“A beard. I feel it would make me look more...mature.” He ran his thumb and finger across his chin then went to layering the goo into Genji’s hair. "Father's associates sometimes do not take me seriously."
"This does not have anything to do with the festival and the fact that you wore a dress, does it?" Genji looked up at him. That past spring, the student council concocted a charity drive that offered a kissing booth. All members of student council were required to cross-dress as a humorous way to make money. The boys borrowed uniforms from the girls and set up fortune telling booths. The girls dressed in the boy's uniforms and then performed skits about samurai for the amusement of underclassmen.
Hanzo had not learned about the costumes until that morning. He assumed he would be in charge of ticket sales or some other mundane job that required a leadership role. Instead, he and Genji were placed at the "Shimada Shrine!", as Genji named it. Genji himself looked rather foolish in the bright blue uniform, his muscular legs were hairy and the top was far too tight for his broad chest.
Hanzo was embarrassed though. While both brothers trained rigorously as fighters, Hanzo somehow was not as defined muscularly as Genji had been. The man was in his third year, practically an adult, and he fit into the uniform like a dream. The long, dark hair had not helped any as the afternoon seemed to drag on endlessly.
In the end, Shimada Shrine! had earned the most cash out of all the fortune telling booths. Mostly because the student body wanted to get to know the pretty new Shimada. Hanzo vowed revenge on the way home that evening, but Genji never saw anything come of it. Hanzo was usually just full of hot air and empty threats.
“You mean, like a big bushy pirate beard or…” He closed his eyes, as he trailed off. The feeling the chill of the dye against his scalp was soothing. Hanzo’s hands were skilled, massaging the dye into the roots at the back of his neck and working their way to his scalp. He slowly cracked open an eye and looked at his brother from this seated position.
“No! Something...noble. I think it will give me more respect,” Hanzo smiled, moving to place dye around his ears. “Nothing thick, just enough to make me not look like a child anymore.”
Genji giggled, “You will look like Grandfather with a beard. You already have his disapproving gaze down.”
Hanzo scowled at the remark, and Genji commented again that with facial hair, Hanzo would definitely look like the man. He stepped back moved back and admired his work. “Stay facing the wall.” He ordered, adding blots of dye and finally killing the remainder of the blond.
“What? Why?” Genji grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest, but followed the orders. “You finished, I don't want to look at the tile of your tub.”
“You have twenty minutes to process,” Hanzo did not answer his question, instead he tossed the gloves and everything into the trash and moved to sit across from Genji on the edge of the tub. Genji took a long look at his brother. Hanzo was always modest in his dress, long black pants, pressed and a crisp white shirt that was buttoned at the wrists. School uniforms always looked routine, but on Hanzo made it look imposing. He noticed a difference in his brother as well, he seemed more toned lately, his shirts getting tighter around his shoulders. he wondered absently if Hanzo had started lifting weights. Sweat started to gather at the back of Genji's neck. The summer was well underway and the afternoon sun was streaming in. He rolled his sleeves up and looked at Hanzo. How was he not boiling in that outfit?
“It is nearly eighty degrees in here. Why are you wearing long sleeves?” Genji reached out and tugged on one of Hanzo's sleeves. “You have to be dying in this.”
Hanzo pulled his arm away. “It just looks professional.” He stated, his ears going a little pink as he looked at the top of Genji’s head. "Some of us are taking over the family business and are not going to be freeloaders."
Genji noticed the reaction. “Hanzo?” he scooted the stool closer. “Are you hiding something?” He smirked, snatching for his arm again. Hanzo tried to pull back and tumbled backward, into the tub. “What did you do?” He moved over the top of Hanzo, grabbing for his sleeve again.
Hanzo laughed and shoved him back, flailing a little in the cramped porcelain. “Nothing that you need to know! You have a fat mouth and will blab!” His blush traveled down his neck as Genji nearly bounced in front of him. He reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling the other upright.
“Aniki! You did something that will infuriate Father!” His smile grew wider. Hanzo so rarely did anything to embarrass the family. Genji's interest was peaked. “Ooh, you are going to get disowned! Be a failure to the Shimada name!”
Hanzo laughed harder. “They would not dream of disowning me, then they get stuck with you as an heir.” He bit his lower lip and looked down. Genji knew that look. In his mind, Hanzo had already decided to tell him. He was just gathering the courage to do so. The younger Shimada sat back on the stool and waited. “Promise you will not tell anyone. Especially Father and Mother.” Hanzo fumbled with the button at his wrist as Genji leaned in closer. Slowly, his rolled his sleeve up, revealing the start of a dark blue tattoo. A dragon head was clearly visible on his wrist as it snaked up, under his shirt further.
Genji snatched his arm and forced the sleeve up further, his eyes widening at the craftsmanship of the art. The look on Hanzo's face was pure pride. How long had he kept this a secret? Genji started to cackle. “Oh hell, you are yelling at me about blond hair, and here you are with this! How far up does it go?”
Hanzo smiled, He moved his other hand slowly up his arm before finally pointing at his shoulder. “All the way up to here,” He said. “It took sixteen hours to complete. I went to Futoba's shop. He does traditional tattooing, not that western needle crap.”
The sixteen-year-old looked up admiration in his eyes. He had sat in that shop several times before, watching some of his father's guards go in there for small things, like a lotus or tiger. Many of his father's guards complained about how painful the experience was. Genji had never seen one that big before. “I bet it hurt a ton.” He twisted Hanzo’s arm, looking at the dragon spiraling up, under the sleeve with the clouds and lightning. “This is so cool! I want one! Do you think he would do me next?”
Hanzo pulled away, rolling up his other sleeve, revealing a blank arm, much to Genji's disappointment. Hanzo had been blessed with two guardian dragons, yet there was only one on his arm. Sixteen hours was a long time though to sit. Maybe Hanzo needed to get his nerve up before returning.
"Time’s up lean back." He grabbed the back of Genji’s chair and dragged it over to the sink with the boy still seated in it. “No looking,” He warned again. "I am an artist and you are my masterpiece." He turned the water on, making sure it was warm and not too hot. Hanzo's fingers moved through his hair, washing away the dye. He watched as the excess dye swirled down the drain until the water ran clear. “You can’t have one.” He finally spoke about the tattoo.
“Why not?” Genji opened an eye and looked up at him. He made his best pouty face at his brother. "I can handle anything you can.
“First, you are sixteen,” He filled a cup with the warm water as he tilted Genji's head back and poured it over his brother’s forehead, rinsing him clean. He grabbed shampoo from the counter and went about scrubbing his scalp free of coloring and, without speaking, rinsed his hair a second time.
“Second?” Genji said, breaking the silence as he felt his brother adding conditioner, just to have it rinse out as well a few seconds later. He was already planning on his own tattoo. Green, he decided. On his leg. Or right arm, opposite Hanzo's. Oh, he decided, his back. That way he could slowly remove his shirt and BAM! sick dragon tattoo. Chicks dig tattoos.
“You are sixteen,” He smiled and grabbed a towel and draped it over Genji’s face. “Once you are an adult, get tattoos all over. What is father going to do, murder you?” He sat Genji up and with swift hands, he shook Genji’s head with the towel, drying the excess water off and threw it into the hamper. “There.” He spun Genji towards the mirror, showing him his handiwork. Genji blinked a few times, letting the sight of the electric green hair settle. He had expected to go back to his normal, boring Shimada style, being a tiny Hanzo clone. Instead, he was treated with this.
“What do you think?” Hanzo asked.
“It’s green,” Genji’s eyes went wide as he reached up, touching it and making sure it was real, not a trick of the light. “...Father will hate this more than the blond, I think.”
Hanzo smiled. “I needed a decoy," He admitted. "Suddenly, my tattoo is going to be nothing compared to Genji, the street gang punk,” He ruffled the still wet hair. “I figured Father can’t murder us both now, can he? Plus, I was always Mother's favorite. Father likes you too much to kill you completely. Maybe just chop your legs off."
Genji tilted his head to the side, admiring the coloring. For once, he did not see Hanzo when he looked in the mirror. He looked very much like Genji Shimada, warrior ninja. “Oh no, we are both going to be spending our last night on earth here tonight, no doubt. But you know; die young, leave a pretty corpse.”