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The meeting with his long lost brother threw Hanzo’s thoughts in turmoil. He stayed in the shrine longer than he usually would, the familiar surroundings soothing his spirit to a degree. He completely forgot that he was in enemy territory until he heard heavy footsteps approaching.
“Hanzo-san? I did not expect to find you here still.” Hanzo bristled at the voice, respectful with a gritty, mechanical quality to it; Nobunaga.
The omnic guard sat down heavily next to him, Hanzo’s arrow still sticking out of his chest. It awakened a pang of guilt in the archer, but he quickly stomped it down. His aim was good as always, the wound far from life-threatening for an omnic of Nobu’s class.
“I have been lost in thought,” he admitted. “I did not plan to overstay.” He gazed up at Nobunaga’s optical sensors, his hand twitching towards his bow. “Will you alert the others?”
“No,” the omnic said simply, brushing a speck of dirt off his suit. “I sent them away. You have put the fear of the Shimadas into the new blood and Kuzama-kun gave himself a concussion when he ran into the bell. That’s enough for tonight.” He stretched his back, struts creaking in protest. “You did a number on me this time, Hanzo-san.”
“I am sorry.”
“The jolt you gave me fried my comm. arrays. I can’t do my job without them. They will make me babysit these imbeciles until I’m repaired,” Nobunaga bemoaned, crossing his arms. “And just look at the state of my suit! I look a mess and then some.”
The last complaint made Hanzo bark a laugh despite himself.
“Nobu-san, you never change.” Of the numerous omnics that served the clan in his youth, Nobunaga always left the most vivid impression with his always perfect suits and spotlessly polished golden horns. Before meeting him, Hanzo would have never imagined that an omnic could be vain, but Nobunaga’s vanity was just as defining of him as his surveillance expertise.
Or his dedication to the Shimada family.
Hanzo pulled a small flask of organic oil from his pouch; a delicacy he planned on leaving somewhere for Nobunaga. He might as well give it to him face to face, so to say.
The omnic took the flask and shrugged his suit jacket off of one shoulder to pour the liquid into his intake, just above his chestplate. Even after all these years, it was a bizarre sight to see the omnic drink without a mouth.
It was even more bizarre to see him get drunk.
Nobunaga slumped against Hanzo with a soft electronic sound of delight, a warm chassis pressed against bare skin. “Ooooh, this is vintage. A lovely taste. Apology accepted, Hanzo-san.”
Hanzo regarded the omnic with badly concealed worry when Nobunaga wound an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug. He knew a bit about omnic recreational beverages, so he wasn’t exactly surprised that it quickly took effect, but it shouldn’t have influenced the other this much. He was concerned enough that he didn’t even complain about the invasion of his personal space.
“Are you feeling fine? I did not believe it would be quite this strong a blend.” Nobunaga shook his head, his optical sensors flashing bright before dimming, the omnic equivalent of half-lidded eyes.
“It’s not. You have busted my main battery, I can’t store the overcharge.” He chuckled and effortlessly pulled Hanzo closer. The omnic’s strength would have been concerning if Hanzo did not know him better. “I might be a bit tipsy.”
It looked far more than ‘a bit tipsy’, but Hanzo knew better than to argue.
“This won’t do,” the omnic shook his head slowly. “I can’t be ine- uh. Inebriated on duty. What would my superiors say?”
It was a trap. An obvious trap and Hanzo, suddenly longing for the good old times, let himself fall in it.
“You are chief of surveillance, Nobu-san. You do not have many superiors.” Nobunaga dismissively waved a hand.
“My underlings then. Think of my poor reputation if anyone sees me drunk on the job.” He strengthened his hold on Hanzo, the grip just shy of being uncomfortable.
He must be monitoring my vitals to avoid causing pain, Hanzo realized suddenly. Good old Nobunaga, he really hadn’t changed much.
“You are incorrigible.” The omnic raised his hand to his faceplate in a gesture of mock-hurt.
“You wound me, young master. It is your fault that I’m in this pickle; the least you can do is keep me company while the buzz passes.”
“I have asked you not to call me young master anymore,” Hanzo said with a frown, but made no move to pull away.
“Hanzo-san,” the omnic said quietly, warm metal fingers rubbing soothing circles into Hanzo’s skin. “I hope you know that if you wish to return to the clan, we are waiting for you.”
Every year, Nobunaga found a way to remind him of this and every year, Hanzo said no.
He thought of the events that went down that night, of Genji’s words. Maybe, just maybe, he was seeking redemption in the wrong place.
“I will think about it.”
Nobunaga couldn’t physically smile, but the archer had a feeling that if he could, he would be grinning at him right now.
“That’s all I can ask for, Hanzo-san.”