Chapter Text
Hate. His mama always called it a strong word. You don’t mean that, Cole. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. Except, sometimes, he did mean it. Rarely, of course. Not many people managed to cross the threshold between dislike and hate. No, he reserved the honor of that word for the worst of the worst. The leaders of Talon, the specific member of Talon whose attack had resulted in the loss of his arm, and, for the past ten or so years, Hanzo Shimada.
The first time he’d heard the name was when he was in Blackwatch. They had begun surveillance on the Shimadas back in the earlier days, simply because they were a large criminal organization. This was how he’d known of both Genji and Hanzo years before the death of their father, Sojiro.
Afterwards, they heard rumblings of anger amongst the elders of the Shimada clan. They wanted to see Genji take a place beside Hanzo, but the younger Shimada had refused. Later on, they’d learned that the order had been given by the elders for Hanzo to kill Genji. Luckily, they’d gotten there in time for Angela to save Genji’s life, but it had been a close thing.
Ever since the whole fratricide thing, Cole had held a healthy grudge against Hanzo. It had only grown when he and Genji had become friends, and he’d heard of the other pain Genji had experienced at his older brother’s hands. How could anyone ever treat their kin that way? It was absolutely unimaginable to Cole, but he guessed the eldest Shimada had an even more fucked-up worldview than he did. However, that was no excuse for killing his own brother.
So, yeah. He’d grown to hate Hanzo on his friend’s behalf, and he was in total support of Genji’s whole revenge plan. Then, Genji had decided to leave. It had been a painful goodbye, but a necessary one. Cole wanted to leave with him, but both of them knew Cole couldn’t leave Overwatch behind. It would’ve worn on his conscience far too much. Well, that and the members of Overwatch were everything to him. After all, Reyes had basically grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulled him out of a life of crime, then adopted his outlaw ass like he was some kind of stray puppy dog.
Unfortunately, none of Cole’s parents, adoptive or otherwise, had a good track record with staying alive. First his ma and pa, then Ana, then Morrison and Reyes. The collapse of Overwatch had taken more than just a beacon of hope away from the world. It had taken away the last people Cole had ever called ‘family.’
He’d roamed for a while after that. Ended up losing his arm to a Talon fucker he’d stumbled across on the way. Managed to evade assassins, bounty hunters, and everyone who’d ever tried to look for him. Then came the recall.
Deciding whether or not to go back to Overwatch had been a difficult decision. On one hand, he didn’t know if he could face an Overwatch without Amari, Morrison, or Reyes. On the other, there was Reyes’s voice in his head. I’m giving you the chance to do some good for once in your damn life. Take it or leave it. So, for the second time, he took it.
He and Genji reunited, but his friend was different. Calmer. Less filled with all the angst that comes from surviving attempted murder. He told Cole that he’d met an omnic who had helped him reach an internal peace. Cole hadn’t believed it. Not until Genji had told him he was leaving for Hanamura to find his brother. Originally, he’d assumed it was to kill him. But no, it was to forgive him. To invite him to Overwatch.
It was a baffling decision (to more than just Cole, mind you), but he respected it. After all, he’d probably forgive a lot of things to get his own family back. Maybe not murder, but a lot of things.
It had taken time, but eventually, Hanzo had joined up, bringing along a woman named Kiriko, who had apparently grown up with the Shimada brothers. Even then, Cole had still hated Hanzo. Even if Genji forgave him, it didn’t mean Cole had to. He’d kept a close eye on him every waking moment, because who knew whether or not the guy could be trusted?
Once Genji had picked up on Cole’s cold treatment of his brother, he’d begged Cole to just give him a chance. Why Genji was so committed to a man who had only ever hurt him, he’d never know. So, he tentatively agreed to at least try to be nice to the guy. Except that Hanzo made that incredibly difficult.
Hanzo was often temperamental, standoffish, and downright rude. He remembered the first time he’d walked in on Genji and Hanzo locked in a nasty argument. They’d been in the kitchen shouting at each other in Japanese, cold fury written in the lines of each of their bodies. Later, he’d learned from Genji that it had been about Hanzo’s refusal to see Genji as an equal, still treating him like the foolish little brother.
Cole had walked in just as Genji turned on his heel and stormed out. Hanzo had stared after him, gaze burning.
Cole cleared his throat. “What was that about?”
Hanzo turned that glare on him. “It is none of your business.”
Cole shrugged and walked past Hanzo to the coffee maker. It was out. No one had bothered to put on a new pot. He groaned and went about starting one. “Fair enough. Still, I think you should cut him some slack. He went through a lot ‘cause of you.”
Hanzo grunted angrily. “If I had wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.”
A flicker of his old temper lit in his chest. He stopped fussing with the coffee maker and turned to fully face Hanzo. After three months of trying to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, Cole was all out of goodwill. “You’re stubborn as a mule, you know that? You walk around here all broody and pissed off all the goddamn time, avoiding all of us; meanwhile, Genji is left to make excuses for you. And you still refuse to treat him with a shred of respect. Now, I been trying to be nicer to ya for his sake, but hell if I see why he thinks you deserve it. Why the fuck did you even come back if you weren’t interested in makin’ amends?”
Hanzo clenched his fists. “Do not speak of that which you do not understand.” With that, he stormed out. Well, at least Cole knew the brothers were definitely related.
After that, Cole had noticed Hanzo around more. He’d taken to spending more time in the common areas. Cole wasn’t sure if it was their conversation that had caused it, or if Genji had talked to him later. Either way, Hanzo was around more.
It had been strange, if he was being totally honest. While Hanzo still wasn’t exactly friendly, he would try to make conversation sometimes. It seemed to make Genji happy, so Cole was grateful. However, this newfound lack of isolation had led Hanzo to be around more specifically when Cole and Genji were hanging out.
Whenever this happened, Hanzo tended to get this distant, wistful look on his face. As soon as he was caught, his expression would completely change into that same cold, impassive stare. Simply put: it was weird as hell, but Cole didn’t say anything. He hoped the brothers would just work it out.
Cole still barely tolerated Hanzo, though. He didn’t think that would ever change. Until… it did.
One night, after a particularly dangerous mission in which Genji had come close to catching a round of bullets courtesy of an unseen Talon agent, Cole had found Hanzo on the skybridge. He’d been drinking straight from a bottle of sake and staring out at the watchpoint like it had personally offended him.
Cole had come closer then and cleared his throat. “Mind if I sit?”
Instead of being startled, Hanzo just shrugged. Cole took that to mean two things: one, that Hanzo was a bit further in the bottle than Cole had thought, and two, that he’d definitely been heard on his approach.
“Not many other people come up here this late in the evenin’,” Cole said, hand wrapped around the cool metal of his flask. “‘Specially not to drink. So, you drinkin’ to forget or to numb?”
Hanzo scoffed. “You say that as if I cannot be doing both.”
Whatever Cole had been expecting, it wasn’t that. It got a surprised chuckle out of him. He unscrewed the cap of his flask. “To both, then,” he said, raising his flask before taking a long pull from it.
“To both,” Hanzo murmured, taking another drink from his sake.
They sat in silence for a few moments. The warm summer air wrapped around Cole like a blanket as he angled his gaze up towards the starry sky. Then, to his surprise, Hanzo spoke again. “You… shot well today.”
Cole glanced over at him, trying to read his body language for any hint of sarcasm. Not finding any, he relaxed. “Well, I’m not called a gunslinger for nothin’. ‘Sides, you’re pretty handy with that bow,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to return the compliment. Maybe it was because it was the first genuinely nice thing Hanzo had ever said to him. Maybe it was because of the alcohol he’d had before coming up here. Maybe he didn’t need a reason.
Hanzo shook his head. “Not handy enough. If it had not been for you, Genji could have…” he trailed off.
Cole frowned. It took a second for it to dawn on him. Hanzo had been worried. Truly and actually worried about Genji. Which… was difficult for Cole to wrap his head around. Logically, he knew Hanzo probably loved Genji in some weird, twisted way. But he never seemed to show it, only treating the younger Shimada as a vague irritation. Perhaps, Cole thought, he’d misjudged him. “Nah,” he said. “He woulda been fine. Genji’s a hard man to put down.”
“Yes, I suppose he is,” Hanzo said, his tone dark.
Cole cringed. He didn’t mean it to come out like that, like he was throwing what Hanzo had done to his younger brother in his face again. “Listen, I know you hate me, and I’m gonna guess I’m the last person you wanna hear this from, but Genji loves you. Always has. Even in the days when I thought he was fixin’ to kill you, I think some part of him still couldn’t quite imagine doing it for real. He’s forgiven you, and I think all he wants is for you to forgive yourself.”
Hanzo looked at him then, mouth slightly open. The customary ice in his eyes melted, giving way to something softer. Something more vulnerable. It made Cole’s heart beat a little harder in his chest.
“I don’t hate you,” Hanzo said.
Cole blinked. “Really? Coulda fooled me, what with all the… death glares and whatnot.”
Hanzo sighed heavily. “Allow me to rephrase: I attempted to hate you.”
Cole tilted his head. For the second time that night, Hanzo had managed to throw Cole for a loop. “And why’s that?”
Hanzo gazed out at the watchpoint, his thumb rubbing over the lip of the sake bottle. He seemed to be looking for the right words, so Cole stayed quiet and waited. Silence. And then… “Because Genji loves you. He speaks of you often, in such high regard. I began to see that you… you are a better brother to him than I have ever been,” Hanzo said. His voice trembled just slightly, the sound infused with sadness and aching vulnerability. It damn near broke Cole’s heart.
Cole thought for a long moment about how to respond. Then, slowly, the words came to him. “I mighta been there for him through some shit, sure, but you’re his brother, Hanzo. He’s my best friend, but to tell ya the truth? I knew for a long time that I was only standin’ in for you in a lotta ways. Not to say that he doesn’t care about me or nothin’, but I’m a shit substitute for the real thing. I can be his best friend, but I can’t be you. Shit, I don’t think anyone could ever replace ya. Not in Genji’s mind.” He leaned back then and took another long swig from his flask. The whiskey burned on its way down, turning his stomach comfortably warm as it settled there.
Hanzo exhaled softly beside him. “Thank you,” he said so quietly that Cole almost didn’t hear him, “for being there for him.”
Cole shrugged with one shoulder. “Ain’t no big thing. Long as you’re there for him too, now.”
“I do not plan on letting him down again.”
Cole smiled at that. “Good.”
It was only after they had finished drinking and both went their separate ways that Cole allowed himself to reflect. Yes, Hanzo had done some evil things. Things that would make most people shudder, things that he would never be able to take back. But damn, so had Cole. Maybe it was a bit hypocritical to judge the guy so harshly when he himself couldn’t claim to be innocent. Those in glass houses and all.
But it didn’t really matter what Cole thought. He could argue with himself over Hanzo’s morality ‘til the cows came home, could hate him for acting based on what he thought was right at the time, but the truth was that Genji had already forgiven him.
Forgiveness, Genji had said, was an act for the self. He hadn’t forgiven Hanzo because he wanted to take the burden of guilt off his shoulders. No, he had forgiven Hanzo to let go of the last vestiges of his own anger and resentment. That was what forgiveness was: letting go. An acceptance that mistakes had been made, but now both parties had to move on.
Except Hanzo hadn’t moved on. He was still trapped, sinking into a bottomless pool of his own guilt and self-hatred, and Cole didn’t know how much longer he could keep his head afloat. It wasn’t enough that Genji had forgiven him, because he couldn’t do the same for himself. That, at the very least, Cole could relate to.
Every member of Overwatch had their sins, but did that mean they deserved to never spend a moment free from self-hatred again? Cole didn’t think so. The only thing left, then, was to move forward. To forgive themselves but never forget the things that they’d done, so they’d never retread old paths.
Maybe the past could be forgiven, as long as they were moving towards the future, and wasn’t that what Hanzo was trying to do? Maybe, he thought as he settled into bed, hate was far too strong a word for what he felt for Hanzo Shimada.