Chapter Text
“You bought a WHAT?!”
Genji rolled his eyes at his brother’s outburst. “See, I KNEW you would react like this. This is why I wanted to wait until-”
“Shimada Genji, answer the question.” Hanzo said impatiently, waving a hand and cutting him off. The younger sighed and raised two open palms in surrender.
“I may have bought a small ballet company,” he spoke slowly. “SMALL being the operative word there. It didn’t take too much out of our funds.”
Hanzo tried not to look as irritable as he felt as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why did you not consult me first?”
Genji shrugged and let his hands fall behind his back. “It was a great deal. I feared that if I waited to argue with your stubborn ass about it, it would be gone. Besides, you were always pressuring to go back into business”
Hanzo looked up to strike a prolonged glare at his brother, then crossed his arms and sat back in the leather seat. “Purchasing a small dancing company on a whim is NOT what I had in mind. We don’t know anything about ballet.”
“Aha!” Genji exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the elder, “I knew you would say that, too! Don’t worry, we don’t have to do anything dance-related; we just have to cover the business part.”
“We?” Hanzo raised a skeptical brow. Genji grinned sheepishly at him, clasping his hands behind his back.
“I already put both of our names on the paperwork,” he admitted, not an indication in sight that he regretted it. Hanzo’s eyes went wide and he leaned forward on the desk.
“You. Did. WHAT.”
“Now, just hear me out!” Genji raised his hands again, “I can explain.”
Hanzo narrowed his eyes into a skeptical glare. The atmosphere of the office seemed stagnant for a few moments as he waited in suspicion for this so-called ‘explanation’, if there was one.
“.....Alright, maybe I can’t explain,” Genji lowered his arms. Hanzo scoffed. “But think about it. We can start with this one small business and build our way up. Trust me, it could work.”
Hanzo continued glaring, unperturbed. Genji had been wrong before, and this time was no different. They had no need to run a business. Hanzo was content to simply stay home and live the rest of his life in luxury. But, on the other hand, it was not everyday that one had the chance to buy an entire company. And with the money they had...
“Besides,” Genji continued, “Everything has already been paid for and signed. Either you help me out, or I will have to start managing a ballet company on my own.”
And what a disaster that would be. Hanzo sighed slowly, bowing his head. He ran an uncertain hand over his ponytailed hair, then clicked his tongue.
“Fine,” Hanzo raised his head, “but should this endeavor go south, I will personally throw you into a woodchipper.”
Genji’s grin was so bright, Hanzo almost cringed. “Glad you could see reason, brother. You are not going to regret this, I promise. In fact, I bet you’ll be thanking me-”
“Just fetch me the papers.”
“Right.”
Genji turned and collected a thick manila envelope from a plush chair near the wall. Hanzo wondered if it had been there the whole time. The chair, not the envelope. He didn’t remember buying it. When did he get a new chair?
The packet of papers was dropped unceremoniously onto his desk before he could further question the strange piece of furniture. Hanzo raised a skeptical brow, glanced at Genji, then moved to unseal the envelope. The younger leaned against the edge of the desk and gestured towards the packet.
“So, as I said earlier, small professional ballet company called Overwatch. The company also owns the theater it operates out of, which happens to be the same building they perform and practice in. The ‘Athena Theater’, I believe.”
Hanzo gave a thoughtful ‘hmph’ and extracted the files from their container, thumbing through the pages one by one. “Athena Theater, hm? It rolls off the tongue nicely enough. But what on Earth kind of name is ‘Overwatch’? It sounds like a faulty police force.”
Genji chuckled heartily, “Or a really cool video game.”
Well, that couldn’t be denied. Hanzo hummed in agreement and skimmed over the deed to the theater. “From whom exactly did you buy this company?”
“The artistic director had it up for sale,” Genji explained, effortlessly switching into his professional business tone. “The two previous managers, Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, owned the place for thirty years before they died in a house fire several months ago. The director tried managing herself, but it turned out to be too much work to be the entire company at once. So we came to an agreement. You and I manage the company, take care of all the financial work and whatnot, and she can keep directing the dancers.”
Hanzo glanced up from the papers. “Does this artistic director have a name?”
Genji blinked. “Huh? Oh! Right!” He leaned over the desk, pointing at the sheet that Hanzo held in hand. “Ms. Ana Amari. She should be somewhere in there. I talked to her on the phone, and she sounds like a nice enough lady.”
“You have not met in person?” Hanzo looked up at his brother, expression more quizzical than surprised.
“About that,” Genji replied, grinning and fitting his palms together. “The dancers have a practice starting tomorrow morning. I told her that you and I would stop by for a tour of the theater and to observe one of their rehearsals. She told me that the company would be delighted.”
Hanzo scoffed. Almost laughed, actually. He looked back down at the forms.
“Absolutely not.”
Genji’s grin immediately dropped, giving way to wide-eyed surprise. “What?”
“Genji, you know as well as I that large groups and social outings are not my speciality,” the elder remarked without sparing a glance upward. Not that he hadn’t talked to people before, he simply considered group socializing to be more of Genji’s forte. “I have done quite enough for you by agreeing to run along with this foolish venture. You may go to meet the director and flirt with the dancers as you see fit, but I will respectfully decline.”
“Hey, not EVERYTHING I do is to flirt with people,” Genji half-mumbled, ignoring Hanzo’s unconvinced glance. He planted his hands on the edge of the desk, leaning forward as if attempting to haggle with a stubborn dealer. “But come on, at least give it a chance! You need to get out of this stuffy office, anyway.”
Hanzo lifted his eyes from the papers, eyeing his brother with a warning glare. “No. I am going to stay right here in this ‘stuffy office’ for as long as I want, and you will not complain about it.”
Genji sighed and lowered his head. He removed his hands from the desk to straighten and run his fingers through his green-tipped black hair.
“Brother, please,” he pleaded, “I need you there. We both know that I am probably going to ruin something. This is my first real project; I do not want to screw anything up. You were always the better businessman. I need your help, Hanzo.”
The older brother remained silent for a moment, then exhaled slowly and set down the papers. “Genji, you are a thirty-five year old man. You made this purchase, now take responsibility for it.”
“Oh come on!” Genji exclaimed, throwing his arms up. Hanzo watched as he sank dramatically to his knees, then clasped his hands in the air. “Please, Hanzo! I ask you- no, I beg you to reconsider! I cannot do this alone! I-”
“Alright! I will go, damn it.” Hanzo rolled his eyes, “Now stop making such a fool of yourself.”
The sheer speed at which Genji was able to change his expression was close to unfathomable.
“Haha! Now we’re talking!” The bright grin returned as he deftly jumped to his feet from the kneeling position. He nonchalantly smoothed the front of his silk vest like not a thing had happened. “Practice starts at 9 a.m. sharp. Director Amari will meet us in the main lobby of the theater.”
“In that case, we shall arrive early,” Hanzo stated, rising from the leather seat and crossing to a near empty calendar on the far wall, “and stay for no more than thirty minutes. That should be enough time to settle any business disputes. Socializing will be kept to an absolute minimum.” He removed a pen from the pocket of his suit jacket, then jotted down a note in the following day’s block.
Genji visibly winced at the time limit, but his triumphant countenance remained. “Deal.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks, then turned on his heel towards the office door without a second glance. “Now, if you will excuse me…”
Hanzo eyed his brother with a raised brow. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Genji cast a mischievous smirk over his shoulder. “Picking out my outfit for tomorrow, of course.” He turned in the doorway, shooting at his brother with two finger guns and a wink. “That cast isn’t going to charm itself.”
With a laugh, he slid from sight before the pen that Hanzo threw could hit him.
----------
The Athena Theater was no majestic palace, that was certain. However, none could possibly mistake its architecture for some hole-in-the-ground club, either. It was tall and sturdily built, challenging the modern city around it with marble slabs and red bricks. Large oak doors both loomed and invited, offering a place of warmth and comfort amid the cold, noisy streets. The building looked centuries old, but the bright blue “ATHENA” above the doorway seemed to suggest otherwise.
Hanzo was forced to silently admit that he had seen worse.
The gust of warm air that greeted them beyond the doors was indeed a welcome one. The two brothers shrugged away their coats, casting their examining eyes around the building. A grand staircase sat at the far end of the carpeted lobby, splitting several darkened archways that Hanzo could only assume led to the main theater. He hesitated to think on how much the building alone had cost.
Genji shivered loudly and shook out his hair, stepping further into the lobby. Hanzo folded the black overcoat over his arm, silently following behind the other while still scrutinizing the building’s interior. The younger huffed with pride and placed his hands on his hips.
“Well, what do you think, Hanzo? Not the fanciest theater in the world, perhaps, but I rather like it. The electric candles are a nice touch.”
Hanzo hummed, coming to stand next to his brother. “I will admit, I was expecting far worse. Perhaps with a little work, we could turn it into something greater,” he said, glancing up at the barren ceiling. A few paintings could be added, and maybe they could bring in a chandelier. He would have to ask the director about that.
The director. Hanzo paused, frowned, then shifted the sleeve of his suit to check his watch.
“Where is Ms. Amari? Are we not to meet her here?” he asked, once again casting his gaze around the lobby in search of other signs of life. Genji snorted, walking over to one of the cushioned benches along the wall.
“We are fifteen minutes early, Hanzo. Have a little patience,” he replied, settling on the bench and withdrawing his phone from his pocket.
Hanzo clicked his tongue and said nothing more, leaving Genji to his technological distractions. He, on the other hand, took to surveying the decor on the opposite wall.
Not decor, pictures. Several framed photographs lined the wall in a perfect row. As Hanzo drew closer, he could make out faces within each frame, a shimmering golden nameplate beneath each picture. He eyed the first two curiously.
The first one depicted a man with pale skin and short, corn-colored hair, his electric blue eyes seemingly gazing past the confines of the photograph to meet Hanzo’s own. Sturdy jaw, friendly smile; he seemed like the type of man that organizations would choose to represent them, if only for his charm. Hanzo shifted his gaze downwards to the nameplate, squinting slightly to read the small, carved letters.
John “Jack” Morrison
Manager
Ah, so this was Mr. Morrison. The company had not had time to replace the plates, it seemed. He would have to look into that.
The second one portrayed a man almost exactly opposite of his neighbor. Dark skin, darker beard, and even darker eyes. A black beanie sat snuggly atop his head, covering any hair that might be hidden there. He was not scowling by any means, but his expression gave the impression that he could easily convince you to pluck out your own teeth. Where Morrison’s gaze seemed to break past the frame, this man’s eyes bored straight into you, as if he were a simple blink away from reaching out of the photo. Hanzo carefully pried his eyes away from the dark gaze to the nameplate, glancing up warily to make sure the figure had not moved.
Gabriel Reyes
Manager
Hanzo’s gaze switched from picture to picture. Two different men, both managing the same company at the same time. Thirty years…
“Ah, you’re early.”
His head snapped up and towards the staircase. From the corner of his eye, he could see Genji hastily cram the phone back in his pocket and rise to his feet.
The director stood at the top of the stairs like a Queen at the ball; high, mighty, all-knowing, and all-seeing, a navy blue hijab as her crown. Her descent down the steps allowed Hanzo to catch the details of her eyes.
No, eye. Singular. Ashen white bangs hid a patch from view, covering her left socket. Below the opposite eye sat a curious tattoo, reminding Hanzo of a certain Egyptian god. Horus. The orb was hazel, youthful despite her obvious age. She approached the brothers with a smile, and extended her palm as the two met her near the middle of the lobby.
“Welcome, both of you, to the Athena Theater,” she spoke, shaking the brothers’ hands. “I am Director Amari, but you may call me Ana, if you wish.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Ana,” Genji replied politely, smiling and folding his hands behind his back, “I am Genji Shimada; you and I talked on the phone the other day.”
“So we did,” the director agreed. “I must say, you sound just as charming in person.”
Genji laughed in turn, reaching up to straighten the collar of his shirt. “I will take that as a compliment.”
Ana chuckled, then turned her hazel gaze to the elder. “And you must be Hanzo. Your brother spoke much of you in our conversation.”
Hanzo nodded, casting a fleeting glance at Genji. “I am sure. And I do hope that none of it was taken seriously.”
A hearty laugh graced the air. “Oh hush, he sang your praises quite extensively,” she patted his arm, then turned back to the staircase and motioned to follow. “Now come along, you two. Perhaps we will have time to introduce you to the cast before practice begins.”
Hanzo felt an elbow in his side before he could object. He turned and glared into Genji’s impish grin as the younger passed him by, hesitating a moment before trailing behind them.
The walk through the theater was far from uninteresting, fortunately. Ana took to explaining part of the history behind the building as they strolled through the quiet hallways. The theater had been bought by Overwatch decades ago, and had operated out of the building ever since. She herself had been directing for as long as Morrison and Reyes had been managing, until the tragic fire took their lives. When pressed further, Ana refused to speak on the incident and quickly changed the subject.
The conversation now included “lovely weather we’re having” and her preference of tea to coffee.
The second story of the theater was simply for balcony seating, whereas the practice rooms and offices were kept on the third floor. Ana escorted the brothers up a second set of stairs and through the hall, continuing to point out various details of the building and answering Genji’s numerous questions.
“Here we are,” she remarked, interrupting one of Genji’s inquiries about the exact color of the wallpaper. The director led the two to a simple wooden door, then quietly turned and pushed the knob forward. A brightly lit, capacious, wooden-floored room became visible beyond the doorway, a mirror extending over the entirety of one of the walls. Ana stepped inside, then motioned for the brothers to join her.
“Woah-hohohoho!” Genji whispered to Hanzo as they entered, grinning devilishly, “Check out the eye candy.”
Hanzo arched a brow and scanned the spacious studio. Several dancers were stretching and chatting, all female but one male with dark skin and dreadlocks. He had to admit that they all certainly had attractive qualities, but he cast an unimpressed look at Genji nonetheless.
“‘Eye candy’? Really?”
“Oh come on,” Genji laughed and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “I know you think at least SOME of them are hot. Tell you what, I’ll take the blonde and you take the one with the really long ponytail-”
“Genji, we are here for business, not to find romance,” Hanzo stated matter-of-factly, looking away from his brother’s pouting face to turn to Ana.
“These are all of the dancers? This certainly is a small company,” he observed. The woman nodded in agreement, sweeping her motherly eye over the cast.
“It is, but I like it that way. Much more like a family, I suppose,” she glanced up at him, smile warm. “Shall I introduce you?”
“No, that is-”
“Absolutely!” Genji interjected, grinning like an innocent child. Hanzo shot him a lethal glare as Ana chuckled.
“Please follow me, then,” she said, amused, stepping forward before Hanzo could nullify Genji’s outburst. He glowered at his brother, mentally flipped him off, then followed the director to stand in front of the mirror wall.
Ana clapped twice, silencing the chatter and perking the heads of every dancer within the studio. In a heartbeat, everyone was on their feet and standing at attention, only now noticing the two well-dressed strangers.
“Children,” Ana addressed the group, voice loud in the suddenly quiet room, “we have visitors. May I introduce Mr. Hanzo and Mr. Genji Shimada…”
She gestured to the two brothers next to her. Hanzo simply nodded; Genji smiled and waved.
“...who are the newest managers of the company and the theater. They will be observing your practice today, so do try to behave. I will say your names, and you may be allowed to say hello, if you wish.”
She waved her hand from person to person…
...a young, dark skinned woman with a tattoo beneath her left eye that was rather similar to Ana’s...
“My daughter, Fareeah.”
“Hello.”
...the blonde woman Genji spoke of…
“Angela Ziegler.”
“Hello there!”
...a short-haired brunette with light skin and freckles…
“Lena Oxton.”
“Cheers luvs!”
...the tall woman with the very long, dark ponytail…
“Amélie Lacroix.”
“Salut.”
...a very tall and VERY muscular woman with pink hair…
“Aleksandra Zaryanova.”
“Privyet!”
...a much shorter, slightly chubby woman with glasses…
“Mei-Ling Zhou.”
“Hi!”
...a regal looking woman with long, flowing black hair…
“Satya Vaswani.”
“Greetings.”
...a woman with an undercut on one side, and purple tips on the other…
“Sombra. She continously refuses to tell us her real name.”
“Heh heh, hola!”
...a teenage girl with long hair and a figure like a doll…
“Hana Song.”
“Hiya!”
...the dark-skinned male with dreadlocks…
“Lúcio Correia dos Santos.”
“Hello-hello!”
...and…
Ana frowned and looked around the room. A moment of quiet confusion passed before she sighed and placed her hands on her hips.
“Where is Jesse?”
Another moment of silence. The dancers glanced at each other knowingly, relatively unsurprised. Hanzo noticed the teenager, Hana, silently count down to herself before casting a glance at the studio door.
Right on cue, the door was flung open and...
...a tanned, muscular man with a ruffled beard and brown hair tucked into a low ponytail…
...heaved through the doorway. The room echoed with the sound of his labored breathing for a few moments before he swallowed and managed to stand up straight, flashing a toothy smile at the director.
“Mornin’ Ms. Amari,” he drawled between huffs, his southern accent carrying through the room.
“You’re late,” Ana stated, unimpressed. “On the day we have guests, no less. Take your spot.”
The man nodded with a small “yes’m” and obeyed, quickly positioning himself on the floor with the other dancers. Hanzo found himself staring far longer than was necessary at the newcomer, caught somewhere between wondering how a dancer could become so well-built and realizing just how well-built he was through his tight shirt and capri sweatpants.
“That one is Jesse McCree,” Ana finished off the introductions. The man in question nodded, smiled, and seemed to look right at Hanzo.
“Howdy.”
Hanzo almost felt compelled to say something back. Fortunately, Ana beat him to it, or else he would have said something completely stupid.
“Now, young man, you remember the punishment for being late, yes?” The director asked, her tone managing to be sincere yet scolding both at once.
Jesse hung his head, nodding slightly. “Yes’m. Push-ups.”
“Mmhmm. How many did you do last time?”
“Sixty, ma’am.”
“Good,” she smiled, “let’s make it sixty five.”
The man exhaled through his cheeks and nodded slowly. “Yes’m.”
Without a second’s hesitation, he dropped to his knees and jumped into a plank position, taking a momentary breath before bending his arms and lowering his body. One, two, three, ten, fifteen... Hanzo watched as Jesse powered through the push-ups with practiced ease, tanned biceps tightening and untightening in a steady rhythm. Straighten, bend, up, down, tempo never slowing, form never faltering, back perfectly straight and elbows perfectly angled.
Now THAT was eye candy.
“Hanzo?” Genji’s whispered voice snapped him from his trance. Hanzo blinked and quickly turned towards him.
“Hm?”
“Your face is red.”
Hanzo’s eyes widened slightly in alarm, and he swiveled his head to look in the mirror behind him. Sure enough, a wide-eyed, flushed copy of his face stared right back. He swallowed and cleared his throat, trying desperately not to let his embarrassment feed the blush.
“This room feels too hot,” he lied, quickly turning away from the mirror and tugging at his collar. Genji hummed with a tone that conveyed he was barely convinced and reverted his gaze forward.
It was another few minutes of Hanzo trying to find something less blush-inducing on which to focus his attention before Jesse reached sixty five. The dancer huffed and collapsed to his knees, pausing for several more seconds before coming to a stand. Hanzo sighed, unsure whether he was relieved or disappointed.
The loud clap that filled the room snapped the thoughts from his head.
“Fareeha, dear, would you lead the stretching for today?” Ana asked in the type of tone a mother used when asking her children to fold the laundry. Her daughter nodded obediently.
“Of course,” she responded, then stepped forward to the mirror and turned to face the block of dancers. Ana waved at the brothers to follow her to the side of the room.
“I will confess, I am somewhat surprised,” Hanzo murmured quietly to Ana. “I have often heard that most ballet companies fire their dancers if they are continuously late to practice.”
The director chuckled and crossed her arms, keeping her one-eyed gaze on the cast. “I think you will come to find that we are not most companies, Mr. Shimada. Overwatch may be professional, but as I said earlier, we are much more like a family. Many of the dancers were taken in from off of the streets, you know.”
“And you train them all?” He asked. She nodded and smiled fondly.
“Train them, raise them, and care for them. Jack, Gabriel, and I fitted the theater with small dorms so that they would have a place to stay. Many of the older members have saved enough to buy their own house, but some still prefer to call this old place their home.”
A thoughtful hum resonated from his throat as he joined her in gazing across the cast. He finally decided to rest his eyes on Jesse, tanned skin still slick from exercise. Something about him just pulled Hanzo’s focus, no matter how hard he tried to look away. Not that Hanzo was complaining. He was incredibly pleasing to the eye, after all.
Especially when he was stretching so flexibly…
A rather loud clearing of the throat drew his attention from the dancer to the man next to him. Genji, whom Hanzo realized had been silent the whole time, was staring at him. Not the wide-eyed, surprised kind of stare, no. His brother’s eyes were narrowed, with his lips stretched wide into the most mischievous smirk humanly possible. He knew something.
“What.”
Genji wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“What do you want, Genji.”
He nodded his head towards the dancers.
“Genji you learned how to speak for a reason, now what do you want.”
“You keep looking at him.”
Hanzo paused for a moment. He couldn’t possibly have been that obvious.
“Who?”
“You know who,” Genji’s smirk grew into the grin of a cheshire cat. “That James guy. You’re checking him out.”
“His name is Jesse,” Hanzo corrected, “and I am NOT checking him out.”
It took a half-second of staring into Genji’s sly grin before Hanzo realized what he had just done. He turned away, heavily resisting the urge to swear.
“Ooooohoho my God,” Genji snickered, “Am I dreaming? Does my big brother have a crush?”
“Please,” the elder scoffed, “crushes are for teenagers with hearts in their eyes. He is certainly….attractive….but that does not mean I have a crush.”
“You do, and you have one bad.”
“Be quiet.”
“Oh no, now wait a minute, Mr. ‘Not-Here-To-Find-Romance’, you cannot just brush me off like that. You are going to talk to him, and I am going to help.”
Hanzo shot a glare at his brother faster than an arrow could fly. “No.”
“Yes,” Genji crossed his arms defiantly. “I am not letting this opportunity slip away.”
“And why is that?”
Genji cocked his head upwards, patting his chest. “It is my honor-bound duty as your little brother to find you a good partner.”
The elder brother huffed and rolled his eyes. “Earlier you wanted to set me up with the French woman.”
“That was in the past. I am a different man, now,” Genji stuck his nose in the air, feigning regality. Hanzo scoffed amusedly, curling his lips into a one-sided smile.
“Is that so.”
“Listen, Hanzo, we are going to be here for quite a while. Either you say something to him, or stand there drooling and making goo-goo eyes for the next half hour,” the younger countered, once again nodding towards the dancer with insistence.
Hanzo flattened his smile, inwardly sighing. For once, he admitted, his brother was right. But he couldn’t just walk up to him; not while practice was still being held. What would he even say? ‘Hello, I am Hanzo and I think you are the most attractive man I have ever had the pleasure of seeing and I really enjoy watching you do push-ups and stretching.’ Like Hell. A man that attractive was probably taken already.
Oh God. He probably WAS taken already. Did he even like men?
Another sharp clap jolted Hanzo’s mind back to reality, at the cost of nearly jumping out of his own skin. He cast a subtle glare at Ana, silently wishing she would stop clapping so loudly.
“Now then,” the director calmly addressed the cast, “finish up your stretches and get a quick drink of water.”
The block broke and the dancers wasted no time in scattering to their respective bags along the opposite wall. Hanzo swallowed in a meager attempt to calm his fluttering stomach. A water break. If ever he had a chance, this was it. He narrowed his eyes, mentally estimating how long it would take in order to pull this off.
Twelve. Twelve seconds was all he would need to walk over there and introduce himself. If he could just cross the floor without making too much of a distraction-
“Jesse, could you come here a moment, please?”
Hanzo paused, blinked, then looked to Ana in complete puzzlement. Her grin was suspiciously innocent, so much so that it was practically sinister. The corner of his eye caught sight of the dancer approaching, and Hanzo turned back and up to look right into his honey brown eyes.
Twelve seconds of courage, starting now.
“Yes’m?”
“While you were sleeping in, I informed the others that our new managers were here to observe the practice,” she swept her arm, almost gracefully, to gesture towards the brothers. “This is Mr. Hanzo and Mr. Genji Shimada.”
When Jesse turned to gaze down at the brothers, Hanzo took a moment to comprehend how much taller and...muscular he was up close. He inhaled slowly. Seven, eight, nine…
The dancer beamed and extended a palm towards Hanzo. “Pleasure to meet you, sirs.”
Ten, eleven…
Hanzo exhaled, then politely reached out and took the hand, shaking it firmly. “The pleasure is ours, Mr. McCree. We look forward to watching you and the company perform.”
Jesse’s head tilted to the side slightly as he chuckled, letting his hand slip from Hanzo’s. “I’ll do my best to give you one heck of a show, then,” McCree replied with a grin. “And you can just call me ‘Jesse’, Mr. Shimada.”
“Hanzo,” he quickly corrected, desperately hoping that Jesse didn’t hear the rushed tone of his voice. The taller man nodded understandingly.
“Got it, Hanzo,” McCree responded, and Hanzo blamed the wink he thought he saw on a trick of the eyes. Jesse moved to briefly shake hands with Genji and exchange a few customary words of introduction, though Hanzo didn’t miss the sly glance thrown his way by his brother.
“Alright, young man,” Ana tapped on Jesse’s shoulder, “that will be all for now. Gather the others, will you? I am going to make a quick announcement.”
The dancer gave a hearty two-fingered salute before turning and sauntering off. Hanzo attempted to resist gazing after him, to no avail. His silent pining, to his dismay, was interrupted by Ana leaning over and telling the two to wait where they were. She stepped forward toward the mirror as the cast began to gather around her, waiting in a few seconds of absolute silence before speaking.
“As you all know, this season will be starting much later than it has in previous years. However, if we work hard enough, we will be back on track. And with the support of our new managers,” cue several knowing glances at the Shimadas, “we will make this one of our finest yet. Now, I am sure you are all excited to hear what I have chosen for this season’s performance…”
Several heads nodded anxiously. Ana smiled as she reached into her coat pocket, withdrawing a simple, creased piece of paper and holding it up with an aura of suspense. The room held it’s breath.
“I think we are ready, children, for the performance we have wanted to do for a very long time. This season, we will be performing the Nutcracker Ballet!”
Whispers of excitement rumbled through the cast like bees in a hive. Lúcio fistpumped, Lena cheered, and Mei-Ling hopped up and down in enthusiasm. Even Ana looked as eager as a child at Christmas, hazel eye sparkling with youthful vigor.
“We will take the next few practices as auditions, if you will,” she continued, having to raise her voice slightly to speak over the chatter. “Everyone will have a part, of course, but I will choose who is best for which role. I expect you all to be at your best.”
A chorus of ‘Yes ma’am!’ echoed back at her, and the cast was dismissed and quickly instructed into a practice block. The room practically pulsed with optimistic energy, filling the air with contagious enthusiasm. Hanzo smiled, looking about the cheerful faces of the uplifted dancers.
And there was Jesse in the back. Tall, handsome, grinning from ear to ear. His aura beamed with anticipation and vitality. Hanzo couldn’t help but gaze at him, wandering eyes filled with admiration. A single, back part of his conscious reprimanded him for feeling like a starry-eyed teenager with a crush, and urged him to start acting his age. The rest of his mind told it to shut the hell up and let him have this.
He studied Jesse’s face, mentally wishing that he would turn and allow their eyes to meet. Foolish, perhaps, but nonetheless surprising when the dancer’s face slowly began to shift-
Genji’s elbow nudged him in the side. With the hopeful reverie shattered, Hanzo hesitantly tore his eyes from the dancer to cast impatient look at his brother.
“If I may briefly interrupt your romantic daydreams,” Genji whispered, unfazed by the glare, “we have reached your time limit.” Hanzo watched as the younger raised his phone, displaying the current time clear as day.
9:34. Hanzo blinked. Had it really already been half an hour?
“We could stay a bit longer if you prefer…” Genji trailed off, smirking wryly and glancing at Jesse. Hanzo glanced back as well, sinking into thought. The cast had begun their dancing exercises; a fact which Hanzo was both grateful and ungrateful for. In staying, he would subject himself to standing awkwardly in the corner and possibly serving as a distraction. Leaving the practice, on the other hand, had no foreseeable negative effects, with the exception of not being able to see Jesse for quite a while.
A sigh slipped through his lips. He couldn’t let one little bout of infatuation get in the way of business. He shook his head, black ponytail bobbing behind him.
“No, no. I believe we are done here. Unless you have something worth staying for?” He eyed Genji slyly, knowing all too well that he had probably picked out a piece of ‘eye candy’ for himself. He arched a brow, however, when the younger merely shrugged and shook his head.
“I am ready if you are,” he replied simply, much to Hanzo’s dubiety. Nevertheless, Hanzo nodded, and instructed his brother to wait by the door while he spoke with the director. After a small thumbs up, the two parted ways.
“Director Amari,” Hanzo brought his voice to a hushed tone as he stepped next to Ana. She tilted her head in his direction, a silent indication that he was being heard. “Genji and I must take our leave. I would like to thank you for inviting us to your rehearsal.”
“Oh, you are more than welcome, Mr. Shimada,” she turned to him, then took his hand and patted it’s back. “And if you ever want to pop in again, we would love to have you.”
Hanzo acknowledged the invitation with a polite half-smile and a nod of the head. “I will keep that in mind. Good luck with your auditions, director.”
“Thank you, dear. Drive safely,” she patted his hand one last time, then let it fall from her grasp. With a final nod of the head, Hanzo turned away and followed the wall to the door. Genji, waiting patiently, smiled and waved at Ana before moving to open the door and advance into the hallway outside. Hanzo caught the door as it began to swing shut and stepped forward, then paused.
Looking back on the memory, Hanzo wasn’t sure exactly what prompted him to cast a final glance behind his shoulder, all he knew is that he did it. His dark brown eyes searched the room behind him for a mere half-second before finding the object of their attention.
He gazed for a single moment, but the image captured by his eyes could never be erased.
Jesse’s left leg stood planted firmly on the ground, while the right leg, rigid and unbending, extended behind him to connect with the floor in a perfectly pointed foot. His slightly arched back flowed to his right shoulder, from which his arm reached high above to end in relaxed, yet elongated fingers. His left arm continued the form in the opposite direction, smoothly running downward at an wide angle. His head followed his spine, tilting back to point brown eyes up towards his fingertips and to the ceiling and the sky beyond.
It was the single most graceful sight Hanzo had ever laid eyes on.
He turned away after a long-lived moment, thankfully holding on to enough composure to shut the door behind him. As he walked through the quiet hall next to Genji, the words on his tongue were formed and spoken before he could realize it.
“Genji.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
The younger brother turned his head towards his elder, blinking in a moment of silence before breaking into a wide, knowing grin. He laughed heartily, placing a brotherly slap on Hanzo’s shoulder.
“I told you that you wouldn’t regret it.”
“Yes,” Hanzo chuckled as he agreed, “yes, you did.”