Chapter Text
Tokyo was overwhelming.
The sounds were always just a little too intense, the scattered noises building on top of one another to compose a cacophony purely meant to overload you.
The smells were contradictory. If it wasn’t the burning smoke of a cigarette, it was a soft aroma of a peach, or incense. Or all three, confusing your nose.
The colors were too bright. Neons found themselves in architecture and fashion alike. It caused you to squeeze your eyes shut, wishing the hues would fade away.
Together? It was a nightmare.
That’s why Satya Vaswani was glad Vishkar was campaigning to rebuild the outskirts of the city. Many of them still haven’t fully recovered from the Omnic Crisis, and the Cyber Craze certainly didn’t help.
Two of the towns especially needed the help: Hanamura and Kanezaka. According to what Satya had heard from both the Internet and the locals, it was currently run by a Yakuza calling themselves the Hashimoto, with the only acts against them from a vigilante the townspeople named Saibādēmon, or the Cyber Demon in English.
We’ll need to gain access to the land quickly to help with this vigilante problem, Satya thought as she looked up at the catwalk she was sitting in front of, which is why I’m here.
Not for the fashion show, of course; Satya never cared much for the trendiest clothing or fabrics, preferring utility and function. But for the connections. Surrounding her were important people. People with the power to help move Vishkar’s agenda forward. Allies.
She looked around the room, observing who she will watch the fashion show with. Three seats down to her right was a woman with pink wires where her hair used to be styled into braids. She was in conversation with a man behind her, laughing at a hologram projected by one of his two cybernetic arms, which was covered in Japanese Kanji Satya couldn’t understand.
The Cyber Craze, as everyone was calling it, took most corners of the world by storm. Most countries combatted the Omnic Crisis that way, giving their soldiers modifications to move faster, look sharper, and to get the upper hand over the Omnics. Afterwards, a good portion of the population got their own cybernetics. Unfortunately, it is very expensive, so only the rich and aristocratic can afford it, thus becoming a statement of the Upper Class.
“A shame all rich people think the same.” Satya muttered to herself.
“You said it!” A new voice exclaimed, causing Satya to almost jump out of her seat.
She turned to her left to see a petite young woman, clearly having just reached adulthood. Satya didn’t see any cybernetics on her person, but there’s a chance it’s covered by her clothes. Her silver headphones might be her ears, or her long socks and pink sneakers could be hiding metal legs.
“Sorry for scaring you.” The woman flashed a snarky smile and glanced at the other guests. “But seriously, you can smell their narcissism.”
Satya felt a chuckle come out. “Forgive me, but if you are not one of them, then what are you doing here?”
The woman shifted in her seat. “Oh, a friend of mine is DJing the thing. As a fellow DJ, I wanted to see his techniques for myself.”
“Supporting your friend and learning from him, admirable.” Satya extended her gloved, organic hand. “Satya Vaswani.”
The woman shook it with a grin. “Hana Song, but my stage name is D.Va. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
“I cannot say I am an avid follower of the DJ community.” Satya admitted. “But I’m sure your music is wonderful.”
“You’re correct in that regard.” Hana tossed her pink hair. Or was it purple? “What about you? You clearly don’t fit in with these snobs, either.” She gestured to Satya’s dress. Where everyone else opted for bright colors and flashy outfits, she went for a simple black and gold dress, with a gold headband to match.
Satya but her lip, hesitant to say Vishkar’s name in the worry it would tense up the conversation. “Yes, well I was sent here to represent a company in the hopes of securing a business deal.”
Hana clicked her tongue. “Ah, networking. How’s that going for you so far?”
“So far? You are the only person I’ve talked to.” Satya sighed, looking at the now filled up chairs. “But it doesn’t matter. These are not the people I need to convince.”
“Really?” Satya heard Hana ask. “Are they not here yet?”
Satya shook her head. “No, not that. My company wants to help rebuild some of the neighborhoods in Tokyo.” She balled her hands into fists, bunching up some of her dress in doing so. “Yes, appeasing the officials is nice, but it won’t mean anything if the people actually living there do not appreciate it.”
Hana stayed silent, and Satya began to believe she talked too much. Maybe she should have lied? No, she has always been dreadful as lying.
“That’s… not what I expected you to say.” Hana said thoughtfully. “That’s really empathetic of you. Normally the only thing business people care about is profit.”
Satya smiled, allowing herself to feel an ounce of pride. “I’ve had a change of heart recently.”
Her time in Nepal really opened her eyes to how inefficient Vishkar’s approach was. She wouldn’t be surprised if none of these people have even stepped foot in the potential neighborhoods. Kanezaka and Hanamura were easily middle to lower class, and the metal limbs of the audience betrayed their net worth.
“Well, why can’t you go down to the neighborhoods and look for yourself?” Hana asked.
“Believe me, I’m planning on doing that. But the company urged me to also do… this.” Satya gestured to the event. “Once I get back to my office, I will see what I can find on any tours Hanamura might have.”
“Wait, Hanamura?” Hana did a double take. “Really?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Are you kidding?” Hana scooted her seat to face Satya. “That’s where the Cyber Demon resides!”
Satya rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know. I’ve heard millions of things regarding that vigilante.”
“Then you’ve seen how he can deflect bullets?!” Hana shrieked, causing Satya to rub her ear. “Or–or how his face is entirely made of light?! Aren’t you worried he might… you know.”
“I appreciate your concern, Miss Song,” Satya raised her left hand to produce a small cube of hard light, glowing against the black sheen, “but I don’t use bullets.”
Hana stared at the cube. Satya couldn’t make out her expression. I must work on accurately reading people.
Before Satya could contemplate any further, Hana looked back up at her. “You’re Symmetra. From Vishkar.”
Was that a good thing or a bad thing? “Yes. I am.”
Hana slowly nodded, staring back at the cube in Satya’s palm. “Do you happen to know who’s DJing tonight?”
“No, I didn’t see any itineraries or information, nor did I look for any.” Satya answered. Wait… that was an abrupt change of the subject. “Why do you ask?”
Hana sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “Well…”
“Alright Tokyo! Let’s make some noise!”
Satya knew that voice. Baap re baap , did she know that voice.
“Let’s get this show on the road.” Said Lúcio Corriera dos Santos, spinning the discs on his turntables with not a care in the world.
And the lights, sounds, and smells became oppressing .
Satya blinked.
When had the sounds become… muffled? And why does she feel something on her head?
Reaching up, she felt a thick headband on her hair, way heavier than the gold headdress she chose to wear that night. She felt two circles on her ears.
Ah, these must be headphones.
Where did she get headphones?
Satya turned to Hana. The girl was looking at her, concerned and headphoneless.
“Thank you.” Satya said. She couldn't hear herself, but trusted the familiar tingle in her voice box wasn’t fooling her.
Hana gave a thumbs up and flashed a strained smile before looking back at the catwalk.
Satya glanced up at Lucio. She immediately looked down at her hands, squeezing them as a baseless move to distract herself.
It wasn’t until her time with Zenyatta that she started to sympathize with Lucio. While she still did not comprehend how he and the denizens of Rio de Janeiro rejected Vishkar’s help, they did bomb a rival company and commandeer his father’s technology. According to him, Vishkar was controlling the populace, even exploiting them.
Satya understood being loyal to one’s home. She could not fault him for that, as much as she longed to find fault in, technically, an enemy.
Satya looked up to the catwalk, believing it better to focus on the fashion in preference to the freedom fighter.
The current model was one Satya recognized. Baptiste is his stage name , she recalled, seeing him on billboards. He was attractive, his dark, toned muscles being shown off in his current blue outfit. His frizzy hair was shaved to style a thick mohawk. His derriere is not bad either, Satya thought when Baptiste’s vantage point granted her a welcome sight. It looks like Hana agrees with me.
He strutted to the riser and broke out into a dance. One that had him twist his legs to the beat and bounce up and down. The wealthy audience was entranced, gasping and grasping for any sort of attention. Did that man just faint? Satya put her gloved hand over her mouth to keep her snickers from disrupting the show.
Hana leaned over to whisper something, but the headphones blocked out her voice.
Satya slowly took off her headphones, taking caution so her senses don’t get overwhelmed again. “I’m sorry,” she said, handing Hana’s headphones back to her, “what did you say?”
“Just that a lot of people are head over heels for him.” Hana’s eyes stayed at the guests near the riser as Baptiste began his walk back. “It’s surprising.”
“How so?” Satya asked. “He’s attractive, is he not?”
“Yeah, but you’d think they’d be put off by his lack of metal limbs.” Hana gestured widely to the other guests.
Satya looked over at the front row audience members. “Are cybernetics considered attractive now? What is the…”
Her voice trailed off at Hana’s confused expression directed to the catwalk. Following her gaze, she saw Baptiste, who had stopped dead in his steps.
Staring right at Satya.
Not in a flattering way. He didn’t blow any kisses at her, nor did he even wink.
Instead, he just stared with vacant eyes.
Was this a typical occurrence at fashion shows?
She thought about glancing around to observe the audience’s reactions to gauge if this was a normal event, for models to stop and stare, but her gut told her that if she took her eyes off Baptiste, even for a millisecond, it would be her undoing.
After what felt like hours, Baptiste finally moved, slowly shifting his hand into his pocket.
Satya didn’t even register that he pulled out a pistol before a gunshot was heard.
It registered when the sounds decreased into silence, the light faded to dark, and her touch became numb.
And Satya’s last feeling that night was a bitter relief.
The first feeling Satya felt the next day was exhaustion.
She woke up slowly, to a steady beeping and a fluorescent light.
This is not her room.
Is she in a hospital?
And everything that happened last night came crashing into her. The pain in her shoulder flared up, causing Satya to wince in anguish.
She was shot.
Baptiste tried to kill her.
She knew most people disliked Vishkar, but no one has ever attempted harm to her.
Actually, some people have, but she was able to defend herself easily. Why couldn’t she this time?
The door opened, interrupting Satya’s train of thought. She was relieved to see Sanjay Korpal enter with a glass of water, a pill bottle, and a stack of small, colorful paper on a tray.
“How are you feeling, Satya?” Sanjay asked, handing her the pill bottle.
“Alright.” Satya answered, knowing to take two of the small capsules out of the bottle. “What happened? Where am I? How long have I been recovering?”
Sanjay sighed and sat at the foot of her bedside. “Someone tried to kill you, so we took you to one of our clinics, and you’ve been asleep for around fifteen hours now.”
Satya gnawed on her lip, swallowing down the bitter pills. “Do we know why Baptiste had tried to kill me?”
Sanjay shook his head. “Not yet, but we have one of the best detectives getting to the bottom of this.
Satya scoffed. “What is there to investigate? Baptiste shot me. Ask anyone who attended the show.”
“That’s the thing,” Sanjay paused, glazing around the room as if he was trying to find the right words to say, “the authorities believe that he was mind controlled.”
Satya froze, purely out of confusion. “Wh… what do you mean?”
“Satya, you need to pay more attention to the news.” Sanjay sighed. “No matter. The detective can fill you in… if it’s ok with you, of course.”
“Please.” Satya said hastily. “I want to know what happened.”
Sanjay nodded and handed Satya the color paper. “I know how you like to keep your hands busy.”
Satya immediately dove into the paper, folding, creasing, and bending the paper to her will; she didn’t even notice Sanjay leave the room, nor did she notice the two figures who entered.
“Symmetra?”
Satya looked up from the origami crane she was making to come face to face with a woman she had never met before. She had a dark complexion, even more so than Satya. Her eyes were covered by a pitch black visor, her hair covered by a brown hat with a neon pink brim that matched her trench coat.
“I’m detective Sojourn.” She said, bringing up a chair against the wall and moving it to the foot of Satya’s bed. “I was hoping I could ask some questions.”