when will blizzard show genji reacting to the new Look???
DO NOT tag as shi/madacest
okay I’m reblogging this again because it needed a ficlet
–
Genji waits on the edge of Gibraltar with an anxiety he has not felt in years.
He has not seen Hanzo in five months–not since their fateful encounter in Hanamura. He had made several attempts to contact his brother, but all of them had been ignored–until last week, when his invitation to meet in the neutral territory of Gibraltar had been met with a succinct, but positive, agreement.
Meeting Hanzo in Hanamura had not been nearly so frightening. He had gone in expecting a fight that day, knowing how Hanzo had lived in the past decade, and he had not been disappointed by the response. Now, though, was different. He had left his brother with an ultimatum–to become the kind of man Genji truly believed he could be–and had not seen him since.
Truly, Genji does not know what to expect today.
A cab comes to a gentle stop in front of a hotel on the edge of the city. Genji eyes it from his perch, leaning against a nearby building and blending into the surrounding crowds. He waits, breath caught in his cybernetically-augmented lungs, for the passenger to disembark.
The door opens, and a man in a sharp, wide-collared jacket steps out. Genji lets out his breath in a disappointed huff. Not Hanzo.
But–no. He looks again.
It is Hanzo. He is nearly unrecognizable in the jacket, a pair of slim, dark jeans, and black mid-calf boots, but it is unmistakably him.
Hanzo collects his belongings from the trunk of the vehicle, and the cab departs. Genji moves without conscious thought, crossing the distance between them in long, rapid strides. Hanzo does not see him, his back to Genji as he fiddles with his phone with one hand and throws a duffel bag over the other shoulder. It takes a moment for Hanzo to become aware of another presence, and when he does, he glances over his shoulder at Genji.
And Genji freezes.
It is not only the clothes that have changed. Since they last met, Hanzo has shaved the hair on the sides of his head in an undercut, leaving the rest pulled back into a thin bun, and he has piercings–one in each ear and one, of all places, through the bridge of his nose, all glinting in the late afternoon sunshine. Between the outfit, haircut, and jewelry, there is not a part of Hanzo that resembles the uptight, staunchly traditional man that Genji had known all his life.
To others, a new look might not mean much at all, but Genji knows better. Hanzo had always been opposed to such things, had openly scoffed at Genji even when they were boys for dyeing his hair and lining his eyes with makeup. Their traditional garb had been more akin to armor, for Hanzo, a reminder of who he was and a defense against doubts.
This isn’t the man Genji met in Hanamura. This is a man who has finally found the good within himself, who cast off the shackles of his upbringing once and for all and has begun to forge a new path to redemption–and happiness.
Hanzo, perhaps sensing Genji’s surprise and guessing at the source, rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. “Now,” he says, and he sounds both annoyed and embarrassed, “I know I look ridiculous–”
Genji does not hear the rest of the sentence. He crosses the last few feet between them and throws his arms around Hanzo’s middle in a strong, desperate embrace. He feels Hanzo stiffen in shock, but there is no resistance, no move to push Genji away. Genji surprises himself with the tears that suddenly well in his eyes, but he lets them flow freely as he squeezes his brother tight.
“I knew you were still good,” he says thickly, strangled by the lump of emotion in his throat. “I knew. I am so proud of you, Brother.”