Chapter Text
Not everything has a reasonable explanation — Kiriko knows this better than most anyone else. No matter how hard you try to rationalize, or stay stuck to your predetermined path, there will always be some greater force waiting to throw a wrench in your carefully laid plans. Its better to accept the chaos for what it is, and let life as it is dictate where you're meant to go next.
Kiriko really doesn’t expect anything worth while to come of her short tenure at Overwatch. She enjoyed meeting everyone, sure, and she thinks she’s made a couple good friends even in the months she’s been here, but her presence had always been out of a feeling of obligation rather than her own free will. A, “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours” type of deal, a quid-pro-quo on all accounts for their help in Kanezaka. It felt wrong, at first, to leave the only home she’d ever known for this little heroic journey of theirs, but Kiriko had been convinced it would be worth it in the long run.
And it would be, really. Being able to see Genji again made it worthwhile in of itself. It was a reunion she’d stopped hoping for ages ago—accepting the ghost that seemed to haunt the stories of the Shimadas. But turns out he was real all along, and that was enough for her.
The excitement of that fades quickly as the days roll on though, and it doesn’t get boring perse—it could never be boring here with almost every flavor of personality localized entirely in this base—but it does get stale. All too soon does she begin to hope for something new to sink her teeth into.
Because of that, Kiriko blames past her for the following few months. “Be careful what you wish for," a tale as old as time, and somehow she’s still surprised when her wish comes back to promptly bite her in the ass.
There’s been a few new people recruited after her, intentional and coincidental, but none stand out to her quite as much as Illari Quispe Ruiz.
She is, at once, serious and daunting and young and childish in the sense that Kiriko can sometimes catch the curiosity heavily cloaked on her face before it’s completely shrouded in nonchalance. Kiriko catches many things like that, an upward curl of her lip tore back to neutral, a flash of something new and hesitant in her eyes before she steels them again — it’s what makes Illari as fascinating to watch as she is.
Well, maybe saying watch is kind of creepy, but. It’s the truth. Kiriko can’t really call what she does anything but watching, her eyes find their way to where Illari is anytime she’s in the same room and they tend to stay there. She can’t help it, like something’s got her neck in a vice grip and refuses to let her look away. Hana would say that’s just someone with a crush talking but this feels… different. Sure, Illari’s pretty, and it always feels so rewarding to hear her speak, but Kiriko doesn’t know enough about the girl to warrant this kind of invested attention. If she knew anything even remotely substantial about Illari, then maybe she wouldn’t be so hesitant to brush the idea off. Or, maybe the opposite would come true, and in the process of learning more about Illari this strange interest in her would wane and things would go back to the normal, bland, status quo.
But Kiriko cannot seem to catch a break with her.
They haven’t interacted much — a few pleasantries shared in passing at most after her initial introduction to the team — and that bothers Kiriko for reason she can’t seem to pinpoint. There’s the obvious conclusion that it’s the desire to get to know her better bubbling at the surface, but it’s also because it feels as though Illari’s brushing her off, like the distance between them is intentionally imposed. Kiriko doesn’t know why, or what she could’ve possibly done to deserve the almost silent treatment, but it does nothing but spur her own even more in trying to get to know her.
That works about as well as anyone could have guessed — trying to talk to someone who very clearly isn’t interested is both audacious and desperate, and Kiriko’s more than aware of how it looks but she’s simply too invested to give up now. Illari gets annoyed about it, understandably so, and Kiriko’s a little bit too petty and ego bruised to let her get away without knowing exactly what she’s done to deserve such third degree, so it culminates in constant barbs and sharp remarks to each other.
Despite everything, it does manage to provide her with the little bit of excitement she was looking for, so she can’t complain much.
Sometimes they’re sent out on missions together, and they work—fine? She supposes? They’ve never received any complaints in mission reports anyway, so she’s just going to assume so. But their dynamic doesn’t change much on the battlefield, a tense layer of something thick and indescribable around the both of them as usual whenever they’re together. It's edgy and unreliable but there's enough trust in each other's abilities to get things done right.
Them, along with a couple other agents, get sent out on a retrieval mission, some highly lucrative synthetic material that they could put to use back at base. It's location a very generous tip sourced from a man whose name seems as fake as his honor. It's easy work. Too easy, in fact. The entire group's hairs stand on edge the whole time they head to the location, but they can't afford to turn down any potential help.
The unnatural staleness in the air surrounding the area when they arrive challenges that perspective all on its own.
Everyone sees it coming. Everyone anticipates it. The click and whirl of robotics is more disappointing than anything else.
Anticipation can only predict so much though, and an ambush is an ambush.
During it all, she's conscious enough to realize Illari's been beside her this entire time. No matter where she is, Kiriko can always catch out the corner of her eye a glimpse of red and blue, or a ray of light emitting from a solar rifle that could only belong to one person. It's surprising how well Illari can keep up with her location amidst the chaos. It's like she just knows where she is at all times. Or maybe it's Kiriko who keeps finding her way back to her despite her swiftness on the field. Like an anchor, a safe point for her to return to.
She does it now, actually. Uses Illari as a safe point without any real thought to it. It works out much like it always does, and Kiriko manages to catch her at a moment where she's recharging behind cover. They lock eyes for a second, and there's a question in Illari's that Kiriko's not sure she really knows how to answer.
It doesn't matter anyways, because she doesn't get a chance to.
Illari's gaze travels leisurely across her face, a long enough duration that it begins to make Kiriko feel a little exposed by the intensity of it. Before she can brush it off with a small quip, Illari's attention is suddenly snapped away to a scene behind her. Considering they're still in the middle of a battlefield right now, Kiriko doesn't think much of it.
Until Illari's eyes widen with an absolutely stunned expression, and she has to turn around and see for herself what makes her of all people look like that.
What Kiriko sees makes her more furious than anything else. There's an unwelcome familiar face peeking out from around one of the corners, tucked safely away from the chaos he caused. It's already one screwed up thing to set them up like this, but to then stay to watch everything unfold like it's front row seats to a thrilling movie? A level of hubris rivaling the "best" of the Hashimoto.
This guy needs to get kicked in the face. Preferably by her, and preferably many many times.
He finally sees them see him, a little stare-off ensues, and then he quickly bolts off in the opposite direction.
Her and Illari share a brief look of disbelief, and Kiriko’s mind races as she tries to figure out how to stop this whole situation from getting ten times worse.
She could catch him — it’ll be risky, but she knows she can do it. The chase isn't the thing in question though, it's the destination. He was stupid enough to stay, but there's no telling on if he had a proper escape route somewhere waiting for him. If she could just get a better view of things…
The thought must show clear on her face, because Illari’s eyes narrow at her and Kiriko knows what’s to come after that, so she turns around to try to book it after the crook before he gets any further away.
Illari is quicker than Kiriko expected though, and manages to catch her wrist before she can completely take off, stopping her in her tracks. “Where do you think you're—”
And fate must be the shittiest joker in existence, because Kiriko can feel it all in that instant — disbelief flooding her senses that gets drowned out by dread, thudding heart that steals the breath from her lungs and leaves her winded. She goes from level headed to total panic nauseatingly quick, and the fact that she can’t pinpoint why makes it ten times worse.
Illari’s grip becomes unbearable, the sensation of her touch amplified way more than how it should actually feel. Kiriko turns to pull her arm away but stops short as she catches Illari’s eyes widened in shock.
Kiriko follows them downward to her wrist, finally notices the tingling feeling emanating from a glowing mark that’s partially covered by Illari’s hand, and understands several things all at once.
It doesn’t come as much of a surprise when Illari snatches her own hand back as if burnt, stricken look plastered on her face as she mutters in pure horror — “No.”
And Kiriko just smiles, combating the hopelessness swirling in her chest with a dash of optimism. “Nah, I think yeah.”
Kiriko doesn't say much of anything to her for the rest of the mission. Not exactly by choice, there are dozens of questions buzzing about inside of her head, a cacophony of thoughts and feelings that water down any sense of self. Something tells her that any attempt at actually asking those questions would be entirely futile though.
It's probably due to the fact that Illari could not be trying any harder to ignore her existence. Which doesn't really work while they're still stuck on this disaster of a mission practically right beside each other. It especially doesn't work when Kiriko can still feel the lingering dread in the back of her head no matter how hard she personally tries to soothe it. She knows it's not coming from her—or, she thinks it's not coming from her.
Honestly, she’s not even sure what she’s feeling right now. It’s impossible to pick apart which emotion is hers or Illari’s, each one messily mixed together in one draining slush.
It throws her off balance, in more ways than one.
“You need to get yourself together,” Illari chastises over the commlink as a shot narrowly misses Kiriko when she trips, and it's absolutely fucking rich coming from her.
Kiriko catches herself before she falls completely, rolling into a spot of cover, and she turns to her left towards where Illari's voice is coming from to glare at… air, stupidly enough. ”What? It’s your faul—”
“It doesn't matter. Stay focused*.*” Quick, succinct, and calm—made even more frustrating by the fact that Kiriko can still feel how not together she truly is.
The thing is, she's right, and Kiriko knows they can't afford to pay attention to any sort of distractions, but that's virtually impossible to do when said distraction is thrust upon her lap like this. It's not just hard to think, it's hard to do anything. She can't muster up the focus needed to connect with the Kitsune no matter how desperately she tries to.
But she can't worry about it. Not now, not when there's a target she needs to catch no matter what. If she can't teleport to him, then she's going to have to do this chase the old fashioned way.
The dropship ride back to base is quiet.
There's not much to say, she supposes, they all received front row seats to the shit-show. The time is mostly spent nursing any injuries on one and each other. With a lack of injury and an express line to regret, Kiriko has nothing to stop her from pondering over everything that could've gone better, and there are many, many things.
There's the obvious problem, of course. This whole soulmate thing. For all that she could've done better, Kiriko refuses to take any blame for her clumsiness today. Who wouldn't be caught off guard finding out such a truth bomb then? A battlefield isn't the most ideal place to meet the person you're meant to spend your life with.
As that thought crosses her mind, she risks a look over at Illari. Ms. Sunshine's off by herself, as usual. Except this time she seems a bit… muted. Illari's quiet, yeah, but there's something off about her stature now. Between the quick glances she spares towards the rest of the squad currently patching themselves up, to the way her hands clutch tightly onto her rifle, it's clear something's bothering her.
One of those glances is tossed Kiriko's way — less a glance and more of a glare honestly — and this one lingers unpleasantly. Unpleasant in the way it makes Kiriko's spine tingle, the way she feels disgusted at something she can't quite name, reasons fragmented in front of her without the glue to stick them together. It's a feeling that isn't personally sourced, and combined with the fact she only started feeling it after Illari laid eyes on her, it's quite easy to guess what's on the girl's mind.
'Person who you're meant to spend your life with'. Kiriko has a few less than appropriate words about that one. How they are now, maybe it's blessing enough that they noticed their bond on the same side of the battlefield, instead of opposing.
Mulling over the link between her and Illari is better than mulling over her current failures, no matter how frustrating the subject is, but in a desperate attempt to shake this disgusted feeling she thinks back on it.
The, 'informant' had gotten away right before her very eyes. Kiriko's fast, but even she’s not that fast. Without the Kitsune to help her scale the rooftops and dodge the various killbots down below, all that had been left to utilize was pure skill practiced for over a decade.
She could've caught him. But could've means nothing in the face of reality, and the reality of the matter is that there was no way she was catching up to the informant with his head start without being able to teleport.
Still, she can't help but admonish herself over it for some reason. Maybe there was a way to catch him, if she had managed to execute every movement flawlessly. Her mother would probably (definitely, if she thinks about it for even a second longer) scold her for relying so heavily on the Kitsune and it's power. To be so out of sorts just because she can't rely on the easy way to get around is shameful at best.
But then again, how couldn't she rely on it? It's a source of pride to house the Kitsune, a testament to how far she's come in spiritual training, a memorial to her grandmother and everything she's taught Kiriko. To have it essentially ripped away without any fault of her own is…
A soothing feeling overcomes her, gentle waves of warmth that ease the tension in her muscles. It's not from her, but it's not from Illari either. She takes a deep breath, and smiles.
Still here. Good. It sounds ridiculous to even think, but she'd been afraid that the soulbond permanently messed up her connection with the Kitsune. If it's just the powers that's all wonky, then she's just going to have to work extra hard from now on to get them back to normal.
The relative quiet is finally broken by a tired sigh, and Kiriko gives the culprit her rapt attention. "Well," Cole starts, lighting the cigar that had been hanging precariously in his mouth. Next to him, Angela wrinkles her nose and takes a subtle step away. After a quick drag, he continues, "I figure there ain't much to debrief, considering the circumstances. 'Spose we should all be happy we got out of there without many wounds to lick."
A few sour murmurs of agreement ring around. Cole lets out a hum. "Actually, 'guessin there's one thing to review. Anyone actually seen where our lightfooted friend went? I lost track of him."
"I saw him, but I—" Kiriko stops as the moment plays in her head again, annoyance at everything reigniting. With sore pride she admits, "couldn't catch him."
Cole eyes her curiously for a second, perhaps at her pause, and says, "don't blame ya, considering all the chaos."
"But I did see how he escaped. It was some kinda hightech bike. I didn't recognize the model though, so it's either really new, or custom made."
"Anything identifying? Any serials, or parts that stood out?"
"What, you think they were dumb enough to leave it marked?"
"Well, were they?"
Kiriko almost reflexively says no, but concentrates hard on the memory instead. Exasperated, she realizes that yeah, he really was that dumb. The fact that she let this guy get away is getting more embarrassing by the minute. "Actually, yeah. I don't remember the last few digits though."
"At least it's something," Cole grunts out.
"Not to rain on our parade so soon, but even if we do find the bike, that guy's probably long gone," Baptise chimes in apologetically.
"Can't a man dream? Maybe he was even dumber than we think and stopped for brunch," he scratches his head in thought, "though, 'suppose it don't matter. We all know he ain't the real mastermind. We just need to find out who paid him off."
Well if she had caught him, then maybe*—*
A new feeling washes over her, one that makes her want to duck her head in repentance. She looks up to find Illari staring at her with an apologetic look.
So confusing… Kiriko can't wait to get back to base. It's been way too long since she's had free time to meditate, and she's feeling an extra need to connect with herself right about now. She'll deal with this later.
"Later" turns out to be never.
Not by her own fault, nope. Kiriko tries to corner Illari as best she can, but the girl just bulldozes right past her. It's honestly a little impressive how easily Illari seems to block her existence completely out of her perception nowadays.
It gets very, very tiring, very very quickly. Before, when she used to bother Illari, at least she could get some sort of reaction. Now it's just… nothing. Barely a glance, barely a thought—barely an emotion. Kiriko thinks back to the first moment she felt anything from Illari, that deep, primordial feeling of dread emanating from seemingly nowhere. Shit, she didn't even have to feel it, it showed clear on Illari's face. Kiriko's felt nothing as strong since then, positive or negative, and it makes that moment stand out twice as much. What exactly was there to be so afraid of?
She'd ask, if Illari wasn't so obviously disinterested in anything involving her, mysterious bond notwithstanding. Kiriko likes to think herself an optimist, an idealist down to her very foundation, but even she has limits. After trying so hard over and over for two weeks (really months, if you count the time she spent before the two of them even became linked) with no progress, Kiriko begrudgingly gives up on getting to know Illari, and decides that maybe this entire thing is better off untouched.
.
.
.
.
.
Okay, well, Kiriko tries to give up, but trying to stop thinking about Illari is a lot harder than she thought it would be, and the attempt to doesn't last very long.
In retrospect, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, considering that even before this whole ordeal she had an unexplainable interest in Illari. She wonders if some subconscious part of her knew about the soulbond. Maybe she is so in-tune with the spirits that it extended even further past into the farthest reaches of her soul. If that's the case, couldn't she have gotten a little clearer signs?
Whatever. She wanted things to be more interesting, and she got it. It's just — frustrating. What does she need to do to prove to Illari that she's worthy of her time? Her previous antics haven't worked, and certainly don't help her current case, so what path is left?
Fingers snapping in front of her face startles Kiriko, and she turns to look at Hana's expectant gaze in surprise. “You zoned out ages ago again and missed my banger killstreak! Are you sure you're okay?”
Kiriko blinks, sparing a glance at the now paused TV screen in front of her. Oh right, hanging out with Hana. She's not as competitive as their resident pro streamer—at least, not with gaming—so she usually just watches her play instead of joining in. It's funny watching her tilt her enemies and then proceeding to absolutely roll them. Today was supposed to be another ordinary friend date day inside of the lounge room, except…
“Ah, sorry 'bout that,” Kiriko says sheepishly, scratching the back of head. Has she really been so lost in her thoughts recently that it's become a notable thing? "It's been a long day.”
“Riiight…” Hana's got that look in her eyes - the one that seems to peel Kiriko's layers off against her will. It catches her off guard every time it's thrown her way, because Hana's really good at making you forget she's also the D.VA sometimes. Kiriko may have been trained in the art of stealth, but Hana is the queen at staying undercover, constantly reaping the benefits of being underestimated. "A long day at 4 o'clock?"
Kiriko tries her hardest to put on her best 'im okay' face. "Seriously, I'm okay. Just got a lot on my mind today."
Hana is not convinced. "Hmph. We're best friends, right?"
"Right."
"And best friends tell each other everything, right?"
"Right."
"So you'd tell me if something was wrong, or if something big had happened, right?"
"Totally," which wouldn't be a total lie, but, "what do you mean, 'if something big happened?'"
"I don't know, something big! Liike… getting into a relationship?"
Kiriko chuckles, "if something as big as that happened, you'd be the first to know."
"I would, wouldn't I," she says in a pretty smug manner, and Kiriko's unsure how, exactly, she should interpret that now. Hana honestly scares her a little with the things she says. It's casual enough for it to roll off most people's heads, easy enough for you to let your guard down and not think much of anything, but just vague enough to leave a prickling confusion in the back of your mind that sows a seed of doubt.
It feels as if Kiriko's putting waaay too much into this, but she knows Hana plays people just as well as games—all that ragebaiting takes some skill after all—and she knows first hand how it works, not that she'd ever actually admit to falling for the bait before.
Hana continues, "I just know you and Illari have both been acting weeird recently. A little sus if you ask me." Ah, there's her angle.
Still, Kiriko is nosy as hell, and well, it kinda does involve her, being her soulmate and all. That doesn't excuse her eager tone as she asks, "has she?"
Hana smirks devilishly, and hones in on it, "wow, still interested in her? I haven't seen you bother her in like, a while, for you. I thought you gave up."
That's a trap of a question, one Kiriko is smart enough to see ahead of time. Still, seeing and defusing a bomb are two very different skillsets. There's no nonincriminating way to answer, so she avoids it all together. "You brought her up first, I'm just curious why you think she's being weird."
"Well, she's been pretty quiet."
"Isn't she always quiet though?"
"Duh! But, she's been like, uber quiet recently," her mouth turns, and her eyes crinkle with worry. Hana reads people well, but she's also read very well in turn. It's one reason among many why Kiriko appreciates her so much. "I'm talking, when she first got here kind of quiet. Weird to see her regress like that."
Kiriko has a niggling suspicion as to why that is, and feels a little misplaced guilt. She asked for this soulbond just as much as Illari did, which is to say not at fucking all. When she said she wanted a glimpse inside of Illari's head, she didn't mean literally.
For a brief moment, Kiriko genuinely considers whether or not she manifested this entire dilemma into existence, like a terrible monkey's paw situation. It feels ridiculous to even consider, but she's not one to discard the 'impossible' considering this was never supposed to be an actual, real thing. Believing the legend of soulmates and bonding when she was younger and a bit naïve is one thing — getting older and realizing that there's next to nothing other than word of mouth owing its existence is another.
Then again, she is housing a mythical legend herself. Perhaps it's her fault for being so hubristic in her belief. There's always some possibility, isn't there?
"See, you keep spacing out!" Hana's voice, accusatory and right, cuts through her thoughts like the sharpest blade, "there's def something up, you're just not telling me!"
Another wave of guilt, but this time well deserved. "Sorry bestie it's just…" as open as Hana is, Kiriko doubts she'll believe her if she tried to tell her the truth. She probably wouldn't believe her if the roles were reversed. She knows how this looks, but she'd rather not tell the truth or lie. "…hard to talk about. But seriously, don't worry about me," she flashes a toothy grin, "it's nothing I can't handle."
"It's not about whether or not you can handle it, dummy, you don't have to solo… whatever's going on," those worried eyes are for her, now, "and of course I'll worry! That's what friends are for."
"Yeah, but I swear I—" she stops when Hana thrusts her hand out in front of her. "Uh?"
"If you won't spill, then pinky promise."
"Pinky promise… what?"
"Pinky promise that I don't have anything to worry about, that you will be totally okay, and that one of my best friends isn't gonna become a kicked puppy loner like her crush!"
"What? I don't have a—" realizing it's futile to even attempt to deny it—especially in her current state—she shrugs, and links her pinky with Hana's. "Y'know what? Whatever. I pinky promise that I'll be okay and that I'll stay the same awesome Kiriko forever and ever."
"Assa!" She says excitedly. After a couple seconds of silence, she pins Kiriko down with one of her detective stares and asks, "are you sure you don't want to talk about things?"
Maybe Kiriko just needs a little bit more faith, and maybe things would be a little bit more easy on her if she had someone else to bounce ideas for how to proceed off of. For now though, she'll hold her cards close to her chest. "I'm sure."
"Ugh!" Hana groans, dramatically flopping backwards onto the couch. She unpauses her game with a shrug. "Worth a shot. I'll get inside your head eventually."
"Careful what you wish for."