#inthemoonlight

This is just chapter one, please visit my AO3 for the rest! http://archiveofourown.org/works/10839759/chapters/24062517

Hanzo awoke covered in sweat and gasping for air. He had to force his mind away from the dream; force his hands to stop choking him. When he released his hands from his throat, he coughed and allowed his lungs to fill with air. It was a bitter feeling and painful, like he had been drowning in water.

He made the small walk to his bathroom and turned the lights on, letting his eyes adjust. A sigh left his lips as he stared at his neck. It was swollen and he could see the purple bruises starting to form. Had he really squeezed that hard? What would have happened if he hadn’t woken up? This wasn’t the first time he’d woken up to his hands trying to kill him and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Even after finding out that Genji was alive, the dreams still came to him. His brother had been able to find peace with the world, but that wouldn’t be as easy for Hanzo. He had lived years battling with the war that was waging inside him. His hands shook when he thought of Genji; thought of what he had done. He had torn him to pieces and left him to die, right there in the garden. All Hanzo had done was run. Run from responsibility, run from his duties, run from the boy he used to be.

He couldn’t stay at Shimada Castle, he couldn’t go back to his mother and the elders; not with the blood of his brother on his hands. It had been a wake up call; the blood. He’d done everything for the clan, for his father, and nothing for himself. He had killed his one and only brother because he liked to party too much. But that’s not right is it? He killed Genji because he was told to, because he was order to do it. And he had complied without hesitation and he had felt a weight leave him as he watched Genji take his last breath. He had smiled.

It wasn’t until he had returned to his room to clean off did he realize what he had done. Most days, he saw himself in the mirror, but others, he saw his younger self. Covered in the blood of his brother with an evil smirk on his face. “It felt good, didn’t it?” He would say back to himself. “Now you don’t have to deal with him anymore.” But that hadn’t been true; it did not feel good. It felt of anguish and pain, like he was suffocating. When he looked at himself in the mirror he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything. All he can remember was the tears he wept and the decision to leave everything behind.

He was aware of the price on his head, that the Shimada’s were looking for him. He’d all but ruined the empire by leaving. He was the only heir able to take over the business and now it was in the hands of cousins and people he didn’t even know. His mother had passed years ago and even though he had attended the funeral, he hid in the shadows. The great Shimada Clan was all but a joke anymore. But thinking about it, made him feel just a little better inside; that they were suffering with him. When Hanzo walked out into the kitchen of his small apartment, he was greeted with a familiar, metal face.

“Ohayo Gozaimasu, Oniisan.” Genji said as his green visor lit up.

“Why are you here?” Hanzo asked as he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

“To see you, of course.” He rolled his eyes and took a swig from his bottle.

“How did you get in?” Genji pointed to the window on the far side of the room.

“You keep leaving it unlocked.” His visor lit up. “Do you do it for me?” Hanzo laughed.

“No.” He was getting sloppy. Leaving windows unlocked? Really? Just let anyone in your apartment Hanzo. Might as well hang a sign out the window asking assassin’s to come in. He looked over at his younger brother and something swelled inside him; guilt.

Genji had started showing up since Christmas Eve. Hanzo had been hiding out in New York and was out for a late night stroll when he’d stopped in front of a shop. The white cake with strawberries in the display case called out to him. But it was a traditional cake and was meant to be eaten with family. Something Hanzo didn’t have, nor deserved. But something compelled him to go inside and buy it and take it home with him, along with a lot of sake. Good sake was hard to find in the U.S., but Hanzo had connections.

When he got back to his small apartment the kitchen light was on and Genji had been sitting at the table. Hanzo stumbled inside and shut the door behind him. Maybe it wasn’t wise to have more than a few drinks on his way home; but he hadn’t been expecting company.

“Are you drunk?” Genji asked, taking the bag from Hanzo.

“Does it matter?” He said and looked up at him. Genji was taller then him and it bugged him a little. “I’m a grown man.” Genji’s visor turned a dark green and he exhaled.

“You bought a cake.” It wasn’t directed as a question, so Hanzo didn’t answer him. Genji pulled the cake out of the bag and placed it on the table. “This cake is meant to be eaten with family,” he said softly and Hanzo just looked at him.

“I don’t have any family,” Hanzo slurred out and reached for the bottle of sake, but Genji took it front him.

“Sit.” Hanzo stared at him and anger began to rise inside him.

“You can’t-” “Sit!” Hanzo jumped as his brother raised his voice. Had he ever heard Genji yell before?

“Fine.” He finally said and took a seat at the table. It was small, only consisting of two chairs. He wasn’t sure why he had even bothered with buying two chairs.

Hanzo watched as Genji grabbed plates and set them on the table. He took the lid off of the cake and cut two pieces out of it. Hanzo just sat there and watched, it was so surreal, he remembered thinking. Sitting here and sharing a Christmas cake with the brother he had torn to pieces. He wasn’t even sure if Genji could eat. How much of him was cyborg and how much was human?

“Here,” he said as he handed him a piece. Hanzo looked down at it and then back at Genji. He was seated across from him and had removed his facepiece so he could eat.

“I didn’t know you could eat.” He saw Genji’s shoulders rise into a shrug.

“I don’t need to.” Hanzo looked down at the cake and took a bite. It was sweet, more than he would have liked; he’d never been a fan of sweet things. “Hanzo.” He looked back up at Genji and everything seemed to be blurry.

“Ha,” he breathed out.

“You’re crying,” Hanzo laughed and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“It’s the sake,” but it wasn’t. He was overcome with feelings he couldn’t explain. Guilt, regret, sadness, happiness; it was all smashing into him. “And this cake is too sweet.” He heard Genji laugh.

“Yes, yes it is.” And he had continued to cry while they finished the whole thing. But Genji had never pried or said anything, and that had been okay. Hanzo liked the silence.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Hanzo asked as he stared down at Genji.

“Besides just seeing your lovely face?” Hanzo frowned and he just laughed. “All joking aside, I am actually here for a reason.” Hanzo turned to face him.

“Well get on with it.” He said as he took another swig of water.

“I want you to come live with me.” He choked on the water in his mouth and spit it out all over Genji and Genji just sighed. “That wasn’t rather nice.”

“You can’t just drop things on me like that!” Genji just shrugged.

“You live in a tiny apartment and I have plenty of space for you.” He stood up and placed a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “It would be good for you.” Hanzo shrugged Genji’s hand away and took a step back. “You need someone to be here for you.” Hanzo snorted.

“And how would you know that?” Genji’s visor dimmed as he stared at Hanzo.

“I can see the marks on your neck.” Hanzo’s hand instantly shot up to his neck and it was still sore. He swore he could still feel the indents of his fingers carved into his own skin.

“That’s none of your damn business,” Hanzo spat out.

“Is that what you want? To kill yourself over things that are in the past?”

“Maybe it is!” Hanzo’s face was flush with anger and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He didn’t want to have this conversation, he didn’t want Genji to be here.

“I want you to live, oniisan.” Genji reached for him, but he took a step back. He felt vulnerable and weak in the presence of his brother. “You could give it a try. If you really don’t like living with me, then you are more then welcome to leave.” Hanzo sighed and stared down at his hands. The same hands that had killed Genji, the same hands that tried to kill himself.

Rebecca Dsouza