#hanzocto

Enemy within… he never wanted to listen to that nonsense that worked on his brother. He was not Genji. He was the eldest son of the Shimadas, who he betrayed, crumbling his own life apart. If anything, he was his own enemy. And he deserved every. Last. Blow.

Across the room as she worked on her own sets, Hannah noticed his workout intensifying, intense anger slowly twisting his face until he was practically about to bust the punching bag off its chain.

She rushed over, calling out to him. “Woah, woah, Hanzo!”

He snapped out of his enraged trance, startled by the sudden voice. He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. He’s always been alone, but… things were different now. He supposed he was still getting used to that. He didn’t turn towards her, but he at least acknowledged her by stopping.

Hannah spared a glance at his calloused knuckles, cracked, and even starting to bleed some. “I think… it’s time for a break,” she gently suggested, taking one of his rough hands into her own.

He didn’t say a word, but flinched slightly at her touch, as she led him to the other side of the training room, where a first aid kit hung upon the wall. He sat as he was then instructed, avoiding her gaze.

She took some gauze and antiseptic out the kit, sitting next to him and starting to tend to his injuries. Usually his fists remained clenched, but around her they would usually soften. Even as she cleansed the blisters, he barely flinched, the only tell of his pain a slight grunt stifled in his throat.

As she wrapped the gauze around his bruised hands, he said not a word, the circular motion almost hypnotic as he remained deep within the rough waters of his mind. Seeing such delicate hands treating his own with such care… it should have eased him, made him feel happy, even. But still, even now… he didn’t know if he deserved this, any of it, at all.

When Hannah finished, she looked back up at his face, recognizing that he was lost in thought, sullen. Even when he had nearly maimed that punching bag, he seemed distracted. “Hey… you alright?” she asked earnestly, hands still lingering on his, until he pulled away.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with,” Hanzo dismissed, gaze glued to the floor.

“Well I am concerned. I can tell something’s on your mind. Don’t already start pushing away from me…” She placed her hand on his shoulder now, along the dark clouds and lightning on his inked skin. A tumultuous storm, much like himself, but nothing that couldn’t be weathered through.

He heaved a deep sigh, admitting to himself that she was right. Just a few weeks ago they had opened their hearts to each other, it was cowardice to retreat into himself now. “...I do not… deserve this…” he quietly started.

“Deserve what…?” she probed further.

“...You. Your… kind words, your delicate touch…” He raised his now bandaged hands to look at them. “No matter how I try, I still feel… unworthy.”

She frowned at that. “Don’t say that… Everyone deserves caring and compassion, especially you. I care about you because I like you, love you, even. I can’t stand to see you still hurt yourself over your past. Was that what got you so worked up on the punching bag?”

He listened to her words, as hard as his mind was protesting them otherwise. He slowly nodded at her question. “Truthfully… I was imagining my own self as my opponent.”

She gasped a little, nearly teary from such a worrisome statement. She moved closer towards him, now bringing her other hand up to his face. He tried to turn away, ashamed at his confession, but she gently fought to get him to face her. “Hanzo. Look at me.”

He did so, deep brown eyes looking back at her soft blues, and within them he saw an ocean of love and compassion, and he did not look away.

“You’re more than just your past. What matters is now, and the man I see before me now is one I love and care for.” She then pressed her forehead against his. “You’re gonna be okay, okay?”

And the dam finally crumbled. Her niceties turned him into putty in her hands, leaning into her touches. Tears that were shoved far far down bubbled to the surface, a thin stream rolling down his cheek. “I… understand… Thank you…” he shakily replied, hands also trembling as he went to hold her close as well.

The hand on his cheek thumbed away some of his tears, and she placed a kiss on the other to catch some on that side as well. She then leaned to wrap her arms around his large frame, rubbing soothing circles into his back. Her hug was soon returned, his strong arms holding her so tenderly.

Some part of Hanzo felt ashamed still, but he knew now the woman in his arms wouldn’t dare think less of him for this. Even so, he knew his burdens were a lot to bear. “I-I am sorry—” he attempted to say, but he was cut off by gentle hushing from her.

“It’s okay… Let’s just relax now and get back to base, okay?” Hannah leaned back, giving him an assuring smile. “It is suppertime after all, you wanna order some food? Does a warm bowl of ramen sound good, with cake for dessert?”

He finally smiled back, huffing a bit. “I should not have disclosed those being my favorites. You’re going to spoil me if we order that too often.”

“Call it a cheat day, we worked hard,” she retorted with a playful wink and a pat on his arm.