hanzo } d2 fin

I am—above all else—an assassin. Above self-interest, above my own morals, and even above family—I am an assassin.

My family taught me well. ("It's not so much about the kill, Hanzo, as it is about the honor.") My father deals in illegal arms. My mother in illegal drugs. And we all dabble in the art of killing. It's a lucrative business my family runs. But it was never really about the money, just like hiding under the premise of "Career training" was never really about the glory of victorship. I never planned on leaving District 2. I was the eldest son of the Shimada family and I was not meant to leave. I was meant to lead.

Then I shot an arrow through a young girl's neck.

"Genji!"

I scream up the stairs in the hopes that that will actually get him out of bed. I know he stayed out late, drinking away his birthday money and swallowing down pills he didn't even know the name of so he could get someone to crawl into bed with him at night. Idiot. He didn't even come to training yesterday.

I let 20 minutes pass. Because he's my little brother and despite his-- well, everything—I do love him. I can afford him his fun as long as he learns to take some responsibility when the time comes.

"Fucking hell-- GENJI!"

But my patience only lasts so long. Especially when we're already an hour late for training. I storm up the stairs only to run face first into a very, nearly naked girl. I stand back enough for her to pass. She runs a finger over my chest and whispers: "Morning, Hanzo." I respond with a gruff greeting as my eyes roll into the back of my head. I'm only surprised when a half-naked man appears on the stairs right behind her with a grin on his face.

"Damn, I should've known the elder Shimada was better looking," he says with a smirk as he throws a shirt over his head. I hear Genji protest from his room.

"In your dreams," I say with another eyeroll before letting the both out with a curt nod and forced grin.

I don't slam the door behind them, despite how much I'd really, truly love to. I don't even bother speaking to Genji before I head off to mother's little drug warehouse. He won't come to training or today's important business meeting. And for now, that's okay. I can handle it on my own. I suppose I'll let mother and father coddle him a little bit longer. It's my job to inherit the family business and legacy anyway; what's it matter if he wants to live while he's young?

I'll build an empire on my own. I'm the big brother, the inheritor. That's my burden, not his.

It was on my 17th birthday that my father didn't wake up when the sun rose. Everyone in our house looked to me the day we buried him. Not to my mother or my uncles or my brother—me. Because that was what was expected. And I fit the role perfectly. Since birth my father had been shaping me with skilled hands to be just like him—better than him even. Stronger, faster, smarter, more trustworthy, more honorable. And I was determined to make his spirit and my family proud.

My mother was always strong at my side, but after father died she retreated to her room earlier and earlier each night. And then she came out later and later each day until she didn't leave her room at all. I was a master in arms dealing and high profile assassinations, but the drug business slipped as my mother's mind slipped into insanity.

And Genji stayed just as he always had. He matched my skills in the training center, but as soon as it came to duty and business he flaked.

Whispers flew around my house. Servants and confidants whispered stories in my ears. Stories I'm sure my father heard as well, but chose to ignore in favor of letting his youngest son, "have a little bit of fun." But as far as I could tell, he was hurting business with his antics. And with father gone, it was time he grew up.

But when I asked for his help, he refused. As if I had asked. As if I was the child and he the wise leader. As if I hadn't been carrying his weight as well as mine for all these years. As if he was in charge of this entire operation, this entire family. But I was the one funding his excursions which seemed to grow increasingly expensive and dangerous as we grew older. It was when he nearly got our family caught for drug smuggling when my confidants finally began whispering other demands in my ear.

"He's a liability, Hanzo."

I tried not to listen them. I refused for as long as I could. But I knew they were right. I knew he would never become an honorable man, a functioning member of the Shimada empire.

"You have to kill Genji."

"I know."

It was dark. The moon hid behind the clouds, and the street lamps hadn't bothered to flicker on just yet. But I'm a Shimada; It's in the dark that I thrive. I knew where my brother would be, so I waited for him to run into me. Because I may be an assassin, but I wasn't going to kill my little brother without looking him in the eyes.

I had an arrow notched. I stood underneath a flickering street lamp and I just waited. I could hear him rounding a corner. I raised my bow, pulled back the string, took a breath--

"Hanzo?"

And I let the arrow fly.

I was sure we were alone in the alleyway. I had scouted the area, I knew ever inch like the back of my hand. I had meant to kill my brother without a single shred of evidence and without a single person getting in the way.

He saw the arrow coming and jumped out of it's path. I waited to hear the arrow clatter and skitter against the concrete. Instead, I heard it hit something, a whimper, a small thud, gurgling.

I had seen death before. I had looked into the eyes of many terrible and dishonorable men as they took their last breathes. I had never once cried when I faced death. But that night I fell to my knees, laid my head in my hands, and sobbed.

She was seven years old. Her family never had enough money to pay for food or clothes or heat during the winter. That's why she was there, following close behind my brother. He was bringing her money. The bouquet of flowers I had watched him buy were not for some girl he planned to sleep with—they were for her.

I killed her, I killed her, I killed her...

"It was me!" Genji screamed when a Peacekeeper rounded the corner. He had stripped me of my quiver and picked my bow up off the ground.

"I killed her."

It was in those moments that I forgot how to be a respectable and honorable man. It was in those moments that I was so lost for words, so full of disbelief and dishonor, that I forgot to tell the Peacekeepers that I was to blame. Her death was my burden to carry. Not his. Never his.

"Wait!" I say, struggling to get to my feet, struggling to catch up as they pulled my brother away. "Wait, it was me! I did it, not him, he had nothing to do wi--"

"Oh shut the hell up, Shimada. You can't take the blame for your brother every damn time he slips up."

I grit my teeth and threw my fist right at his jaw before he could turn away from me. When he fell, I just kept hitting. I beat him into a bloody pulp before his Peacekeeper buddies managed to hit me over the head hard enough to knock me clean out.

I woke up in a cell and accepted the punishment I deserved.

"Congrats, Hanzo Shimada. You've been selected for the Overwatch program."

It'd been a year since I was put in this place. I deserve longer. I need to be here just as long as my brother is here. I deserve every lashing, every ounce of neglect, and every lonely, awful day in this place. But apparently someone doesn't think so.

"Can I refuse?"

The two individuals in front of me glance at eachother before looking back to me.

"No."

My face grows cold, hard, stern. An older man and younger woman stand in front of me. Neither of them smiles. For them this is business. I can appreciate that. But I haven't done business in over a year.

I'm a bit rusty.

"How about you fuck off and leave me to rot like I deserve instead?"

I turn my back to them, a ghost of the strong man I once was. I'm nothing more than a shell of that now. I'm not a Shimada, not anymore at least. As soon as I had decided that killing my little brother was the only was to save my family name and honor... that was the day I left the name Shimada behind. I'm just Hanzo. Broken, dishonored, and an assassin of innocent children.

"Shame," the man says as I hear them begin to shuffle away. "Your brother was so looking forward to seeing you again."

Genji.

I rush to the bars in desperation.

"Wait!"

I can practically feel him smile as he stops in his tracks.

"Welcome to Overwatch, kid."