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Hanzo had left his room today with the understanding that it would be his last.
The rest of his calendar had been ripped off, his few belongings organised to who they’d be left to. Anything unwanted was sold, the money left to Asa.
His hair was trimmed, clothes neat, appearance clean and controlled. He was sure it was that way, wanting to die as he wanted to be remembered; organised, perfect.
Suicide was enough to tarnish a reputation beyond repair. He would preserve what little he could.
He refused to let on to his thoughts. Interactions stayed normal, calm. He greeted everyone with a similar indifference to any day beforehand. However today, every hello was simply another goodbye. He didn’t dwell too much on that thought. Choosing to acknowledge that would make it harder to accept that he felt ready.
He made a point to avoid Cole and Genji. That would surely hinder the decision, the choice he had already made to go through with it.
There was something so difficult about trying to face someone he cared about on a day like this. It felt impossible, so wherever they were, he left behind.
He tried to avoid their gaze if ever it met him. He tried to avoid noticing the defeated glances Cassidy shot him every time he left a room.
By 4, Hanzo had returned to his dormitory one last time to write out his final messages to those he cared the most about.
The notes were formal, written with care in every case.
One to Genji, detailing his apologies and regret. A note to explain everything, the truths he could never tell to his brother’s face. A confirmation none of this would ever be his fault.
A note to Asa and Kiriko, explaining how fond his memories of them were. Another confirmation that none of this was their fault either, and details of the money he had left the two of them, and a small keychain he had received from Kiriko years ago. He felt it would be best to return it.
He sent his apologies to Overwatch itself, a letter of notice he would be leaving the organisation with immediate effect, with a lack of explanation why.
Friends, people he considered family would once again wonder where he was. Perhaps it’s better this way.
He’ll ask the people he tells not to share why his resignation came so quickly.
The last letter was written to Cassidy, a letter that Hanzo spent a long time struggling to write.
He apologised for failing to hold on. For giving in so easily. It was disgraceful to finally give up after so many years of work.
He spoke about how he felt, truly. Something he hadn’t considered to do with anyone else, he was honest.
Why he was doing this, why he had decided to stop trying.
The apology sent to Cassidy was perhaps one of the most genuine. An apology for the burden of knowledge.
He had overheard Vivian speaking beforehand, saying that Cassidy and Genji would be out at 4:30, meaning that they would still be gone at 5.
Hanzo took the time to walk to her office and lay his letter to Overwatch on the desk.
Next was Genji, who he slipped the letter under the door to, alongside Kiriko’s letter. He figured that he could rely on his brother to deliver it.
Finally, he slipped Cassidy’s letter under the door to his room, standing there for perhaps the longest before moving on.
He’d mapped out his route to the rooftop long ago. There was a plan he had to follow. He wasn’t turning back on the decision now.
Which stairwell had the least people, what time to walk through the halls without being seen, let alone stopped.
He’d known for a long while this would be how he wanted to die, no matter how messy his body would be when they found him.
By 5 exactly, he was standing on the edge of the rooftop, staring at the ground below. It was a long fall, and even if it didn’t kill him, he had a second plan.
He held a bottle in one hand, and a small blade in the other. Should he need to, he could finish things on his own.
The bottle was half empty, sake. He’d taken the time to drink beforehand, to try and ease off any thoughts of nervousness.
He let his hair fall down to his shoulders, taken down from the careful appearance he tried to maintain. It whipped in the wind behind him, the breeze on his face almost grounding.
Nothing was going to get in his way this time. Nothing was going to convince him otherwise. He was sure of it.
One step forward, one foot halfway off the edge, inches away from the fall. It would just take another step —
“…Hanzo?”
He stopped dead in his tracks, the bottle slipping out of his hands and clattering to the floor. He’s lucky it didn’t shatter.
One step back.
The voice behind him is familiar, but the tone isn’t. It’s cracked with tears and a certain desperation one could only use to convince a dying man otherwise.
“Y- …Y’re not serious? Are you?”
Hanzo thought about looking behind him, but his body refused to move. He didn’t respond, simply looking at the ground. What could he even say in a situation like this?
It took a second before either of them could speak, the silence eventually broken with a quiet response.
“You’re not supposed to be here, Cole.”
“I… Don’t reckon you’re supposed to either.”
Cassidy was crying. It was evident from how he spoke, quiet sniffles coming from behind him. Neither of them moved any closer to each other. However Cassidy’s tears seemed to be enough to get Hanzo to turn around.
“You don’t understand why I need to do this.”
It was hard to meet those eyes, even moreso now they were filled with tears.
“Maybe that’s true, I don't understand. I want t’, trust me, but— I can’t…—“
He looked a mess. Hair stuck to his face with tears, letter still in hand, the letter detailing all that explained the situation.
He was hurt. Not just that this is what it had all come to, but because Hanzo hadn’t talked to him first.
And Hanzo stared. He stared at the man sobbing in front of him, holding a piece of paper that detailed all of his pain.
He dropped the blade, hands going almost weak at the thought of the situation that he was in now.
Cassidy’s expression said everything he needed to know without trying. It spoke louder than any words could. Not only that, it found itself mirrored in Hanzo, tears coming to his eyes in response.
Was this truly worth going through with if this was the reaction he had received?
He stepped away from the ledge, balance unsteady. His knees felt weak, body near giving up as he realised what was really happening here.
Another step, then another, before he fell forwards. Cole was quick to step closer and catch him, sobbing harder now.
Hanzo felt arms wrap around him, a quiet refusal to let go muttered between sobs as he was slowly brought to sit on the floor, trying to ignore how he started to choke up as well.
In the past, if ever he were to cry, he had learned to do so silently, to hide any hint of sadness or frustration under a cold exterior.
At this moment, all of those teachings left his mind. He couldn’t help but let himself cry, face dug into Cassidy’s shoulder in defeat.
“Why wouldn’t y’— I don’t, I don’t understand why y’ wouldn’t tell me any of this…”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“
He fell silent, trying to give a reason despite all words leaving him. The more he tried to think, the more he struggled.
“Never again, I— Promise me, never again. Please.”
“…I promise.”
“That’s— That’s all I needed to hear.”
Cassidy pulled Hanzo closer, holding onto him tighter. He let Hanzo cry, refusing to ask anything else. He refused to leave. He refused to force Hanzo to move either. He would leave when they were both ready, or not at all.
A clean and organised death wasn’t on his mind anymore. Neither was one that was messy and violent. He couldn’t think about that, not now.
Hanzo wrapped his arms around Cassidy in return, trying to ignore how much his normally steady hands were shaking.
For the first time in weeks, Hanzo was no longer considering today as the day he died.