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What remains of Overwatch huddles defiantly in the remnants of a long-abandoned military complex, each individual claiming and refurbishing their own portion of whatever remains habitable.
Genji and Zenyatta have taken up residence near the rooftop, even setting up a modest indoor garden. Despite the hustle and bustle of the rest of the team going about their business, the pair have found relative peace, spending much of their time in meditation. They're rarely disturbed.
Master and student sit cross-legged, facing each other. The walls are sparsely decorated, bearing only the occasional teachings, immortalized on delicate parchment. Only the whisper-quiet thrumming of their internal processors can be heard within the room itself--from beyond its walls, the base teems with the occasional, muffled assortment of noises associated with daily life. Tranquil, the pair perceives the barrier between their home and the world around them, observing without judgment. The titter of laughter echoing from D.Va's room. Soft, hesitant footfalls in the distance. The occasional burst of gunshots from the communal shooting range. The clanging of metal on metal as Torbjorn toils away at his workstation, peppered with the low rumble of Reinhardt's voice. Louder, approaching strides, heavy and rhythmic.
Genji starts as he senses another presence nearby, or at least nearer than his teammates typically dare to venture. Curious, he remains still, listening as the visitor draws closer, then comes to a sudden halt. Zenyatta's pupil tilts his head quizzically, eventually inviting them inside, whoever they are. The sliding door is jostled gently, but remains closed. The stranger continues to fiddle fruitlessly with the primitive entrance until the cyborg ambles over and slides it open himself, revealing the hulking mass of their Bastion comrade, who boooops in what can only be described as embarrassment. In its single humanoid hand lies the mangled remains of what was once, perhaps, a pretty flower. Zenyatta regards the intrusion with a cant of his head, still hovering in place, before speaking. "Welcome, friend. What have we here?"
Bastion outstretches its arm, along with the ruined plant, with a loud mechanical whirring. The omnic monk closes the distance between them, delicately accepting the offering in both hands. Its stem is utterly destroyed, weeping sap into his palms. Its petals are bruised, even torn in places. Yet Zenyatta tilts his head in what Genji has learned is a smile nonetheless. "Thank you, my friend. It is beautiful." E54's facial display brightens, chirruping sweetly as it mimics the other omnic's gesture, and the teacher titters in amusement before entering a bizarre conversation of bleeps and boops with their guest. Genji can't help but feel awkward about it, wondering if he's even capable of replicating the noises they're making. Eventually, their discussion comes to a close, and Bastion waves before tramping out of the room.
Genji slides the door closed, unsure of what to think. Bastion rarely, if ever, interacts with anyone on the team, primarily standing watch outside the complex--he hadn't even seen it up close before now, actually. Pondering the reason for its sudden visit, his jaded mind leaps to the immediate conclusion of ulterior motives--but even he has difficulty picturing the entity being capable of such a thing. Sighing inwardly, the ninja scoots closer to Zenyatta, entwining their metallic fingers as he joins him in meditation.
While no longer capable of eating, Genji takes pleasure in assisting the crew in the kitchen. He excels at preparation, so long as someone else is there to taste-test. He's babysitting a roux over the stove, stirring peacefully, while Tracer zips about to gather the remaining ingredients for the stew. Something hearty, for once, seems long overdue. The cyborg's thoughts are interrupted as he hears approaching footsteps. The heavy, clanging noise feels familiar--Reinhardt must have taken it upon himself to patrol the area in his suit again. Chuckling to himself, he turns to gently chide the old man, only to be greeted by the sight of Bastion once again. Tracer, noticing this belatedly, immediately zooms over in a blue streak.
"Heya, big guy!" She giggles, leaning close, teleporting all the while as the poor omnic strains to maintain eye contact. "Whatcha got there?" There's another flower in its hand, though in much better repair than the last--actually, it's completely intact, roots and all. E54 stares at the vegetables and herbs laid out for the meal, mulling something over before trundling over to the cutting board and depositing the plant, bleeping triumphantly. Tracer immediately erupts into hysterical cackling, and even Genji finds it difficult to maintain a straight face as he thanks the robot, who emits a pleasant blip before taking its leave.
Relaying the event to his master afterwards, Zenyatta confesses amidst peals of laughter that while he'd suggested it handle other flora with more care in the future, this wasn't what he had in mind.
Enough visits later and Bastion finally gets the hang of picking flowers--though sometimes, it brings pinecones, acorns, and anything else it finds interesting. The couple does their best to preserve the gifts, but even inside water-filled vases their petals begin to wilt, and one day their guest regards a particularly despondent blossom before plucking it out and replacing it with a fresh one. It lays the withered plant in their garden with a satisfied chirp, and Genji releases a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He knows little of its origins, but its understanding of the circle of life startles him. Perhaps he figured it was simply too innocent for such things. Quietly, he wonders what else he's misconstrued about the entity, and he finds himself unsure of how to proceed. Zenyatta is the only omnic he's ever interacted with at length, and he certainly doesn't understand a word of whatever Bastion speaks.
After it leaves, he sheepishly asks his mentor for advice, who smiles with that tilt of his head again. While Zenyatta expresses that he'd be happy to translate their conversations for him, Genji decides he'd rather start learning the language himself, and the pair settle down on the tatami to begin. While English had given him a fair amount of difficulty, in his past he willed himself to learn it for the sake of impressing his friends. Whatever this is called, he hopes it will be easier. But when it comes time for him to mimic a basic "hello", he finds his voice garbled and strange in his throat. The cyborg grows increasingly frustrated with his body as he tries again and again--everything comes out far too organic. His teacher places a soothing hand on his shoulder. "You have focused on embracing your humanity for so long, you have all but cast your omnic qualities aside." His tone is gentle--he means no offense. "You will learn balance, in time." With that, he holds Genji close, and the student calms himself with the hum of his lover's hushed processors.