Chapter Text
The night is cold, almost unnaturally so, but the Yōkai can’t be bothered. They’re all busy high-fiving each other and giggling gleefully. Another mission complete against the Hashimoto, and it was incredibly successful!
Staying out all night to intercept their movements was worth it in the end, they’re all sure of it. Hanzo stands watching, keeping an eye out for all his younger companions, and he hasn’t missed the shivers that pass by them as they make their way back to the hideout, Hashimoto plans unfolded and thrown to the wind.
The mission went fine actually; he just wishes these kids would be a little less careless.
“We have to celebrate!” Kiriko says, throwing her hands up high.
“Yeah! Hey, don’t we keep that six-pack in the fridge for this exact reason?” Nobuto questions, rubbing his hands.
“Oh, we can watch all the movies we want! Just let me log onto the net and I’ll have anything you want in no time!” Chikasa offers with glee, despite her emotionless face.
Sakura is right about to say something, but she coughs instead. She brings her hand in front of her face, but with the mask she already usually wears for her costume it’s useless.
“You alright there?” Mizuki asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, yeah… I might have just underestimated the cold tonight.”
Hanzo doesn’t think much of it. He’ll let the kids enjoy their party, Sakura will learn to wear a hoodie or a heavier shirt. He might just leave a couple of painkillers in front of her room if she’s still there by tomorrow morning.
He gets a glimpse of those beers they were talking about, and while he might enjoy the snacks, he should stay away from the alcohol. He shouldn’t indulge.
He steals an already opened bag of chips and steps into his loft completely unnoticed.
At some point, there is someone wondering where he disappeared. A chorus of groans follows when they realize he used his ninja tricks to slip a fast one on them.
Regardless, they recover soon enough, and they keep watching movies, joking and chuckling with each other all the while. Their happy sounds reach him even in the safety of his loft, his little temple of order.
But he has to admit, their mission was good. He’s satisfied with his work, and with the work of his – dare he think it – teammates. He will celebrate in his own way.
He finishes the bag of chips and actually allows himself to go to sleep with a smile for a change.
He wakes up, strangely rested, the next morning. He washes himself, gets ready to start his day and reach into the kitchenette to make himself some breakfast. When he opens the actual door to the hideout, a shapeless form of kids stranded over the couch (and the floor) welcomes him, along with the nauseating smell of people who have been inside a closed room for way too long.
They all sleep somewhat peacefully. A couple of them are snoring, some even quite heavily, Kiriko most notably out of all of them.
Even Chikasa, who would be an omnic and not need that much sleep, stays slumped over an arm of the couch, half on Ryōta’s chest but with her legs sustaining Mizuki’s head. It’s a mess he wouldn’t even know how to begin to untangle.
So he simply steps over them.
“Infants.” He chuckles to himself, opening the door to let fresh air in. They’ll thank him in a minute.
He might just make some simple rice for his breakfast. Surely, the kids finished everything that was edible in the fridge during their partying yesterday night (in fact, it is barren. It looks like an army went through it and left absolutely nothing) so he sets up a rice cooker with a frankly absurd amount of rice.
At least if considered for one person. It might be just enough for six people… but it’s not like he has to admit that to anyone. They are all asleep, and he doubts they’ll mind finding breakfast ready for them.
Ryōta coughs up a storm behind him, on his place on the couch, where he rests his head atop Nobuto’s shoulder.
Well, that’s certainly a first. He’s never seen Ryōta even with a light cold, the young man seems to have a heath of steel. First time for everything, he supposes.
Though he’s not the only one slightly hindered. Someone groans, and he vaguely realizes it’s Kiriko when the sounds of a harvester stop. She raises her head from Mizuki’s lap, a frown on her sleepy face.
With her hair sticking up in every direction, it’s almost funny to see her like that.
“Ryōta, what the hell?” She says in a hoarse voice that’s more comedic than anything.
“What?” The inquired man asks, refusing to open his eyes.
“You snore like a bison.” Mizuki comments, slurring the words slightly. Seems like Ryōta’s fit woke up most of them.
“Oi, it’s not like I did that on—” Ryōta’s interrupted by another round of coughs. “On purpose!”
Sakura also stirs awake, bundling back into a pillow she was hugging, hiding back under Nobuto’s legs. He’s not sure whether she started out on the floor like that, or if she’s fallen off at some point during the night. Regardless, she has enough strength within herself to complain.
“Who opened the window? It’s cold…”
“Not me.” Chikasa says, sounding every bit of her usual self. “I can’t even move unless Mizuki does first.”
Hanzo peeks back into the main living space just in time to see Sakura flick her fingers over Ryōta’s legs. Looks like everyone is up.
Well, almost everyone. Nobuto is still peacefully asleep, having fallen behind Ryōta’s back when the other moved.
Kiriko sneezes, and then coughs rather wetly. She groans pathetically under her breath, going back to her position over Mizuki’s lap. He raises an eyebrow at her, flashing a coy grin that reminds him of the ones Genji would give girls in his youth.
“Aw, don’t tell me you caught a cold too.” He says, though his voice sounds hoarse, as if his throat is scratchy.
“Shut up.” Kiriko bats a hand over his face, making him recoil. “It must have been the cold.”
Hanzo finds himself rolling his eyes. At least Mizuki has the decency to wear a long-sleeved shirt under his battle robes. Kiriko barely has something that could be considered a t-shirt.
Mizuki leans in, perhaps to tease her more, but he closes his eyes and goes back to his original position soon enough instead, with a tiny hiss.
That might have been the end of that interaction, if it wasn’t for Chikasa, who hums, delighted.
“He he, you’re all ill. Perks of being an Omnic, I don—” She stops mid-comment, and Hanzo raises an inquisitive brow in her direction. She… froze.
He frowns.
“Chikasa…?” Sakura sounds even worse than she did last night, and has to stop another cough. “Since when do you do… that?”
The Omnic goes back to her self, though her movements are significantly slower.
“You alright?” Ryōta questions tiredly, voicing all their thoughts.
The omnic groans, bending over herself. “Ugh… I… might have downloaded a couple movies from a few… unreliable sites yesterday night, let’s put it that way…”
“You caught a virus?” Mizuki asks, not turning towards her, but keeping one eye open.
“Basically… this sucks.”
“We have to…” Kiriko begins pointing a hand up, then it flops right back next to her. “What do we do, actually?”
“Nothing, it’s not serious. I’ll be alright… my anti-malware are already at work. It’ll just… make me slower, I guess.”
“So you’re not alright either.” Ryōta says once more, sounding smug. Chikasa huffs.
“Don’t remind me.”
Sakura moves a hand up, to actually shake Nobuto. “Hey, sleepy head. Time to wake up and move your legs, come on.”
But there is no response. She shakes him more forcefully, huffing back another cough. “If we have to suffer through this awake, so do you!”
“Let me try.” Mizuki says as he drops Kiriko from his legs to get up. Apart from the groaning girl he leaves behind, the moment he tries to push himself to his feet he instead topples over, almost right into the coffee table stained with something Hanzo doesn’t really want to be bothered with right now. He manages to catch the gray-haired kid before he can fully fall, and calmly lead him back down to a stable, leaning position. “Ah, oh… ossan? Since when are you here?”
“Since before you woke up. What happened?” He asks with a frown.
“The world started spinning as soon as I moved. It hasn’t stopped, either.” Mizuki explains, whining.
“You were the one who opened the window…!” Sakura complains, pointing what should be an accusatory finger in his direction.
“Yes, and I can also see clearly what happened here yesterday night.” He says, crossing his hands and shaking his head. “You all slept here, and the illness Sakura caught spread to all of you. And the one who could have been safe from it made poor choices.” He adds, gesturing vaguely towards Chikasa.
“Don’t lecture me…” She complains under her breath.
Hanzo navigates through the sea of ill and groaning people to actually get to Nobuto, stepping over Kiriko and Sakura. When he reaches him, he touches his forehead and grimaces.
“He’s burning. He’s definitely got a fever.”
“I can help.” Kiriko sentences, slowly making her way up to a sitting position, only to flop right back down as her head starts spinning, or at least she complains loudly about it.
Hanzo rolls his eyes.
He goes back into the kitchenette, to control that the cooking is well underway.
“I’m leaving for a moment, don’t die while you’re at it.” He says behind himself, acquiring a round of huffs in his wake.
Satisfied, he instead goes back to his loft, leaving the groaning kids behind. To this day, he’s still speechless about the lack of a proper first aid kid, or heck, just a simple stash of painkillers, in the hideout. He’ll lecture them about it later.
At the very least, being on the run for a decade has instilled the good habit of always being stocked up on that kind of stuff.
He goes back into his room, finds the pocket of his duffel bag he keeps medicine in, and gets back down with a pack of painkillers, holding around fifteen of them. They should suffice, at least for today.
Back into the main room, he gets and rinses five glasses. Fills them with water, and starts a round of distributing painkillers. By this time fed up with having to traverse the main living room like it’s a swamp, he opts to finally untangle the unsolvable mess of kids at his feet, organizing them in a way that makes them more manageable.
Nobuto, lucky one that has still to wake up and is out cold, gets to stay on the couch. The rest of them are placed on the floor, vaguely in an order that lets Hanzo walk around them with ease. The place is starting to look like a lazaretto.
They try to complain about his manhandling, but ultimately they’re too weak to oppose him. He grimaces, hoping they will get better. It’s not like he likes the noise they make, but the usually jovial place is starting to sound terribly quiet, almost dead with just their congested breaths resounding, and it sends a shiver up his spine.
Throughout the morning he makes sure their cups of water stay filled, that there is almost always a wet cloth on their head, that they stay up long enough to eat the breakfast he eventually finalizes. Sakura and Mizuki end up falling asleep quickly after that, completely beat.
Ryōta and Chikasa follow them soon after, and Kiriko complains mildly about the cold, but it only takes a small blanket on her person (one he takes from her room at her request, with little adorable embroidered foxes that her grandma made for her) to have her sleep like a baby. He intrudes the other’s rooms too – though he leaves no traces behind and makes sure to only touch the blankets he needs. In the end, they all look as cozy as they can be while sick, and Hanzo can come up with something else to ease their pain.
His mother used to make an incredible soup whenever he or Genji were sick. It tasted faintly of ginger, but there were other ingredients in there, sure to reinvigorate anyone.
Though, when he opens the fridge, he’s reminded of the grasshoppers that live in this small place. He’ll have to go and buy what ingredients he needs. Which means at least changing into a long-sleeved shirt, no use in being too recognizable and such an extensive tattoo is hard to ignore, and count how much money he has left from his last job.
He checks them over one more time, making sure they’re still in that phantom of comfort, before leaving.
He manages to come in time for a market not too far from Kanezaka. He acquires the spices, potatoes and vegetables he needs for his recipe. He gets some fresh fruit and noodles, as well as more rice, while he’s at it. With his money almost completely spent, and his arms incredibly full of supplies (turns out six people need to eat a lot, and that’s not even counting Chikasa) he manages to make his stealthy way back to the hideout.
Nothing has changed when he opens the door. Except Nobuto finally seems to be awake, and he looks incredibly puzzled to see Hanzo stocked up with food.
“What is going on…?” He whispers weakly. Hanzo starts organizing the produce on the table, deciding where to put what where, and keeping the ingredients he needs for his soup out.
“You’re all ill. I’m making soup. Hold up a second and take this, you’re dehydrated.” He replies, curtly. He quietly but rapidly moves next to Nobuto, offering him the painkiller and the glass of water, which he does down eagerly. After that he’s back to laying down. He makes sure to change the cloth over his head, before doing one other overall check and actually starting.
Making soup is almost entirely a waiting game. He makes sure whoever wakes for whatever reason has all the help they need, before they’re out like a light again. He spends most of his time watching outside, making sure his head is as close as possible to the open window. No use in coming in contact with all those germs if he can help it.
Chikasa is the one that worries him the most. She’s adamant she just needs some time to sleep this off and give her BIOS time to recover, whatever that means. The cloth over her head works wonders, she reveals, and like the others, she eventually sleepily thanks him for helping her.
It all feels so alien to him that he doesn’t fully know how to reply before her lights have died out again.
“You know, I’m starting to understand Sakura.” Kiriko murmurs after a beat, shuffling under her blanket. “Can you close that window?”
“I’m not planning on catching whatever you all have going on,” Hanzo huffs, “and this wouldn’t be happening in the first place if someone ran around dressed properly for the cold, not in a short-sleeved mess and whatever she can find first in her closet.”
Kiriko groans into the pillow, pushing her fox ears over her eyes. “You’re no fun.”
They sleep right through lunch, though perhaps mostly because they spent the entire night partying rather than because they’re sick.
When dinnertime rolls around, Hanzo makes sure the soup is still properly warm enough. He gathers five bowls, all different, it’s what they managed to spare overtime, and fills them to the brim. Armed with spoons, he makes sure everyone is awake and up enough to enjoy it.
Sakura and Nobuto are still the worst off, needing a helping hand with sitting up on their own, which Hanzo provides before they can complain. Getting up apparently took all the energy out of Mizuki, who needs a little help and a reminder that there’s food in his hands, before he can actually start feeding himself.
By the time they have all finished, Ryōta and Kiriko are trying to get up, insisting that at the very least they should help Hanzo wash the dishes, after he cooked for everyone and everything else.
He watches with a stifled grin as they both slump back down on the ground. He lets them flail aimlessly just enough time to put the bowls into the sink, before helping them back to peaceful resting positions despite their protests.
He eats his own dinner and cleans the dishes and table as soft snoring fills the room around him.
As nighttime rolls around, he takes their moments of awareness in stride to feed everyone another painkiller, especially after he gets the confirmation that they are working.
Years on the run have taught him how to rest well enough without sleeping. He doesn’t want any of them to feel alone when they wake up, so he prepares a teapot of tea just for himself, the smallest light he can get his hands on and whatever book he can find, though Kiriko recommended this one, and spends the night like that.
Watching over them, making sure nothing bad will happen. Only Mizuki seems to wake up from a dreadful nightmare, murmuring Shion’s name over and over in fear. Hanzo stands besides him, reassuring him that he’s safe, and that Shion won’t hurt him anymore where he is.
Mizuki feels alien to the entire exchange. Hanzo’s words reach him, or so he thinks, but the kid doesn’t react outwardly. Until he flops onto Hanzo, and he has to juggle his book and the light and now Mizuki’s dangling limbs until he manages to get him laying down again.
That’s the only accident during an otherwise peaceful night, not even the Hashimoto seem to be out causing trouble.
Hanzo takes a moment to figure out whether he feels anything off in himself. He’s always been good at hiding injuries or illnesses, a sign of weakness he never should let out or so the clan and his father insisted, but he finds that he hasn’t fallen back into those habits. He, genuinely, still feels fine. There is no running nose or scratchy throat he’s covering up. He’s at the top of his game.
He smiles to himself. Well. If he keeps going like this, he might just make it out unscathed.
The morning after, the room is much more lively. Ryōta manages to get up on his feet. Chikasa is appearing much better, Nobuto and Sakura can sit up without much issue and they’re all rather hungry. A good sign, Hanzo figures.
He divides chunks of rice for them all to take, and soon enough they’re all back on their merry way to their apartments. Some steadier on their feet than others, but Hanzo sends them all off with more painkillers in their body, strong enough that should last them until they’re all home safe.
He still does a round of calls an hour later to make sure they are all actually fine, accidentally waking up Nobuto in the process. They all live on their own, and he knows well enough how tough it is to come back home to an empty fridge after a particularly long day. That’s why he makes another trip to a different market, and prepares more soup, a bit more energetic this time, with noodles cooked in. That’s also why, for the first time in what feels like forever, he actually unpacks his duffle bag completely. He needs the space to take the dishes all around half of Tokyo, after all.
Nobuto looks about ready to shout at him after the second time he’s woken him up today, but he’s much more grateful, and confused, when a bowl of something steaming and wrapped in cling film is put into his hands. Mizuki cocks his head to the side, and Kiriko tries to offer Hanzo a place to stay and wind down, but he explains he still has to go to Sakura and Ryōta’s places, and declines. On his way back, he stops by Chikasa’s place too, asking if she needs anything and only leaving when he can personally confirm that she’s back to her old self.
After the last house calls are done, he makes his way back to the hideout, well into the afternoon. He manages to rest up a little, eat his meal, make one final round of texts this time though he considers calling Nobuto just to mess with him.
Though he doesn’t really have to confirm anything, because they’ve all sent him a ‘thank you’, either via message or with a sticker he doesn’t really understand. So he knows they’re alright, reminds them to take some more medicine, and he can finally relax.
Evening rolls around, and Hanzo hums to himself, feeling exhaustion crawling up his back. He gets some of the rice he’s prepared for himself, reheats it, sprinkles some condiments and sauce on it and consumes his meal in silence in the kitchenette, finally devoid of any snoring or oppressing smells.
The day has him beat.
Guess running around to bring food to half a dozen places littered throughout the city took a tool on him. He makes a plan for the following day: he should check up with the Yōkai again, just to make sure they’re all healed. Especially Chikasa. The girl looked fine but Omnics don’t have many physical tells for illnesses, so he won’t stop pestering her until he’s sure everything is fine.
Speaking of illnesses, he should probably get to a pharmacy and buy more painkillers. He didn’t have too many on hand, and now with Kiriko and Mizuki always having his back every small yelp of pain is intercepted and dealt with before it can truly become a problem. Regardless, with how many he had to give the Yōkai, he’s completely out. So that’s his top priority tomorrow. And also give the youngsters a scolding, because the reason why they don’t have a first aid kit with basic necessities in the hideout is beyond him. He’s put his own to their use, but still.
Hanzo finishes his meal, washes the dishes with his usual methodical cleaning and gets ready to sleep. He collapses on his futon as soon as his head hits the cushion.