He doesn't believe him. Not for a moment. How could he? How could he accept that Genji would forgive him after what he'd done, the pain and fear and whatever had followed and transformed him after death.
Not a vampire like him, small mercy that that might be. Something else. He can sense it around the edges now that he knows what he's looking for, and it's the glance towards Jesse that reminds him of that feeling.
Demontouched.
"...what have you become?" The words feel numb, spilling out of his mouth.
Hanzo won’t find anger in that statement to support his doubt of Genji’s forgiveness. It’s merely matter-of-fact. A little stern, maybe. But he sighs, and a tension loosens in his shoulders. He would spare Hanzo this if he could, but he knows his brother. Even now, after all this time. He won’t be content without answers.
The shift, when it happens, is quick. His eyes are the first, the white overtaking both iris and pupil. Their faint glow accentuates the blueish-gray of his skin, shines on sharp incisors, illuminates hints of red arranged almost artistically on his face. His horns are the last to come in, but they more than anything probably confirm Hanzo’s suspicions.
“I was offered a deal," he says, his voice just the same. "A way to cheat death, between one breath and my last. I took it without thinking. This,” he gestures down at himself, “is the result.”
It's distinctive to the demons of their land, the final proof that he's speaking the truth. This is Genji, or rather, this is what has become of him. Not dead and at peace, but lingering in this world as a cruel parody of himself.
One moment of blind hunger had doomed them both.
Hanzo's shoulders sag slightly, the corner of his lip almost curling upwards, not i mirth but disgust instead. "Then we are both cursed. After all that, I thought killing you was the worst thing I could have done to you. But look at you now."
All the more reason he wouldn't have forgiven him. And it explained the mask, didn't it? The clan deserved to understand what haunted and hunted them, after what they put them both through. This was a monster of their own making, all of them.
Himself, just as much. Perhaps that is why he was here, now.
“You blame yourself for what the clan forced you to do. You’ve shouldered the guilt, all this time.”
He sheaths the sword still in his hand, a show of trust that Hanzo won’t try to strike him down again.
“I am at peace with what I am, and what I had to do to survive. It’s time you did the same. I’ve forgiven you, and so now you must forgive yourself.” He hooks the mask onto his belt next, letting it hang there, a parody now of what it has been hiding.
“Why, do you think, I’ve been attacking the clan and not you? You’re easy enough to find.” For him, anyway. There's a quiet huff from the cowboy up above.
"Forgive? No. There is no forgiveness for what I did."
He was the elder brother, meant to guide and watch over him. To lead by example. And yes, blame lies with the clan and what they hoped to turn him into, the way they intended to divorce him from his humanity, and make an example of the rebellious younger brother all in one. They deserved whatever vengeance Genji could muster. But it was the beast inside of him that delivered this fate upon him.
His hands were the ones left bloodied. And years of solitude to turn these thoughts over in his head, again and again, stewing in fury and despair, had let him come to terms with what happened only by accepting the blame himself. If Jesse had decided to slay him, then and only then would justice have been done for what was done to Genji. An honest death to release him.
Though that hardly seems to be the case now. Genji remains in this world, cursed as Hanzo was cursed. Now, even his death would not suffice.
His jaw tightens, eyes going harder around the edges. "Why now? If you were truly alive all this time, why only seek me out now?"
“Perhaps not from yourself. But you have mine, even if you feel you do not deserve it.”
He hadn’t expected any quick resolution. Hanzo had always been stubborn, and he’d always denied himself leeway of any kind. Genji can only hope this is the beginning of something else, a slow-growing seed that can take root in his brother’s heart.
Perhaps, before now, he hadn’t thought it possible for a seed like that to take hold. But lately…
“You’ve changed. I’ve seen it in the way you hunt. And in the company you keep.” He tilts his head towards where his brother’s first fledgling stands watch.
“Before now, I didn’t know if you would listen. I truly did not know how much of my brother remained within you. These last few months have been good to you, brother, whatever it is they’ve wrought.” A quick smile, there and gone like the throwing stars he’d been so fond of as a child.
“That, and there is change in the air. I wasn’t certain I would be able to speak to you before it starts."
He spares a swift glance towards Jesse, when Genji's gaze flirts that way. There is something there to take note of, but later. There are more important issues at hand. This, he feels, has something to do with the attacks.
With Talon notifying him of Genji's appearance, and actively wanting him to seek him out. What reason could there be? Why is he suddenly involved in all of this, when a year ago he'd been alone and perfectly content to keep it as such?
“There are those among us that are no longer content to stay in the shadows. You’ve heard of Talon, I’m sure. I know they’ve heard of you.”
Genji indulges himself in a familiar hobby, producing a card with a quick sleight of hand. The plain white card stock appears between his fingers between one second and the next, and he holds it out for Hanzo to take.
“They’re planning something that could throw the world into chaos. But they will not do it unopposed. Your skills and your cunning could do a lot of good on the right side of this fight.”
On the card is a logo, a name, and a single phone number. Nothing else.
“This number goes to a burner phone. You can use it only once before it will be disposed of.”
He studies the card, doubt written into every line of his face, before he extends a hand to take that card and read what is written upon it. But his focus doesn't remain there long. Instead it lifts back his brother, the twisted demon's form that now defines his existence.
"One belonging to the 'right' side. The side you are on."
There...is some appeal to the thought of joining him. Of reuniting with the brother long thought lost, and defeating the evils of this Talon organization. But life is never so black and white as that. It is all too good to be true.
“Yes. You don’t have to decide now. Think about it. Discuss it with your companion.”
Speaking of, he is incredibly curious how that’s been going. Last time he spoke to Jesse, the hunter-turned-vampire had been spitting mad at Hanzo, ready to put as many bullets in him as he could. Now, Hanzo is bringing him straight into one of his Hanamura safehouses, and they’re having an argument that sounds suspiciously like a lover’s quarrel. Genji interrupting when he had hadn’t been an accident.
“The invitation extends to him as well. My associates are eager to get in touch.”
With Jesse, that is. Hanzo, not so much. But Genji had insisted. Neither Ana or Jack had been convinced, but that Shimada stubborn streak had won out in the end. Hanzo would get caught in the middle of his fight regardless of his wishes. He should have a chance to do it on his own terms.
He is pointedly not looking at Jesse when he says it, and his expression is a tell-tale shade of neutral.
"...where will you go, now?" It is not a 'yes', just yet. He doesn't like the feeling of being corralled into anyone's game, played for either side. He will make no decisions just yet, and there is no telling if this is even truly the Genji he remembers. Perhaps the years have changed them irrevocably, if their respective curses did not.
Genji hadn’t expected an answer, and would have questioned any definitive yes or no Hanzo gave him. This not a night for weighty decisions. Not after the rollercoaster of emotions his brother has been put through. And if the look on his face is anything to go by, it’s not over for him—or his fledgling—yet.
“My work in Hanamura is done, for now. I’ve left the clan with more than one mess to wake up to.” He smirks flashing a hint of fang. “I’ll leave Japan to visit a friend in the morning. From there, I’ll go where my work takes me.”
He closes his eyes, and his human façade slips back into face. When they open again, they’re back to their familiar brown, and the smirk is gone.
“I… am sorry, that my own anger kept me from having this conversation with you long ago. But now that we’ve spoken once, I hope we can again. If you wish.”
If he wishes. That should be a clearer answer than it is. But there's too much not to consider before opening his arms so readily. It might be a trap. It might be genuine, as offers goes. And either way, there would be consequences.
"...very well."
And, at long last, the arrow slips back into its quiver, the bow collapsing back down once more into a more portable form. There would be no more battle this night, not for them.
"I will consider your words. I can promise no more than that."
With no weapons between them, Genji chances a step forward. Then another, until he is standing beside Hanzo facing the opposite direction. His hand rests on his brother’s shoulder briefly.
“Take care in the night, brother. Until we meet again.”
Then he continues walking, coming to the edge of the roof before jumping down and out of sight.
Alive but cursed. Something he dared not hope for, and would not have wished upon him. The conflicting emotions sweep over him in a wave, his chest tightening as he allows him to pass and disappear into the darkness.
Jesse is there, he can feel his presence and his eyes upon him, and suddenly why Jesse hadn't told him who his informant was becomes abundantly clear. He knew his brother was alive. Watched him mourn for him, and said nothing.
It is more understandable, now. But no less infuriating.
Jesse had watched it all in silence, standing guard in case they attracted unwanted attention—or in case one of the Shimada brothers got too close to making a fatal blow. He’s under no illusions though about his chances of surviving getting caught in their crossfire. He’d known Hanzo was good, but it had been another thing altogether to see him up against someone of a similar skillset.
After the fight had ended, Jesse had felt like he was watching something not meant for him to see. It was incredibly personal… but also, they were still on a rooftop in the middle of Hanamura. So he’d stood watch, something deep in his chest aching as the full details of that night had been laid out in full.
And then it’s over. Genji is gone in a blink, though Jesse doesn’t miss him slipping something into Hanzo’s pocket as he goes. He wonders, fleetingly, if he’ll have a chance to ask Hanzo about that before this all goes to pieces.
He straightens his posture, taking his weight off the windowsill and stepping back into the room.
Not moments, but minutes later, Hanzo's foot catches on the windowsill, and he slips back into the room as silent as a shadow. Dark eyes dart up in search of Jesse, wherever he happens to be.
If he hasn't slipped away to avoid Hanzo's wrath. Which would have been wise. He doesn't expected he's taken that course, however.
Hanzo is already aware that Jesse is many things, but wise isn’t among them. So he’s still there, waiting at the table with a cigarillo in hand, when the elder vampire returns. He’d been debating if he should light it or not, or if he should return to the window, or if she should be doing something else.
Seeing Hanzo come back so quickly is almost a relief, even if it brings with it the promise of another argument. The suspense is always the worst part. He looks up and straightens his posture, the cigarillo set aside.
“Hey. You alright?” A stupid question at this point, but it feels like it should be asked.
Trust that, in this volitile and fragile moment, that is what he asks. Hanzo doesn't reply immediately, setting the collapsed bow upon a nearby table, his thumb tracing the polished curve at the tip in a moment of quiet reflection.
Was he? No. Absolutely not. But he felt oddly composed, despite that.
"I thought I had done the worst possible thing," he replies after a pause, brow knitting faintly. "Something I could never be forgiven for. Instead, I have done something far worse."
Jesse frowns, considering that for no more than a few seconds before he stands. That is answer enough for the question he’d asked, and he feels a quick, potent rush of anger when he hears it—but not at Hanzo. Not that it’s immediately clear in the way he spits his next word out, sharp and quick.
“No.”
He shakes his head, chancing one step forward before stopping.
“You don’t get to sit here blamin’ yourself for that.”
Jesse nears, and that's all it takes for the vampire to tense, shoulders going rigid like he's braced for something. Steeling himself silently as he locks gazes with his fledgling.
He'd known all along. He'd come to find him where he traveled each year to mourn his brother, knowing he was alive. Knowing what had truly become of him. Of course, Genji doubtlessly told him not to reveal his survival, not knowing what Hanzo would do if he'd known but...
Jesse doesn’t move, his expression defiant as he stares back. He’ll put up with a lot in light of what had just happened. He’s ready for Hanzo to lash out at him, but he’s not in the mood to abide by his sire turning that blame and loathing back on himself. He’s already had years to do that, a lifetime.
"What it changes is that you cannot possibly pass judgement on things you do not understand!" he snaps, and there it is. That first burgeoning twitch of anger finally slipping through the facade of calm and numb.
"What happened that night changed everything. Every night since. I saw what I had done and I fled. And my weakness doomed us both."
If he had stayed, perhaps he would have seen the change in his brother. They might not have suffered alone as they had through the decades. So much would be different and...even Jesse might still draw breath as a mortal man. Doesn't he understand that?
Anger is good. Anger is better than hiding behind a wall and throwing up that icy exterior like a shield. And even if it’s the last thing he does tonight, Jesse is determined not to watch that shield come up again. Not without a fight.
“Your weakness?” He’s getting louder, voice ringing with incredulousness. “How were you supposed to know he’d been possessed? How were you supposed to have stopped anything that happened? I wasn’t even there, and I know that what whatever your clan made you believe about having to be perfect is all bullshit. And they would’ve kept you on a leash with it, but you had the strength to get the hell out.”
"Ignorance is no excuse. Had I stayed and seen to him then..."
Perhaps he'd have known that they never laid a body to rest. Perhaps they might have had another chance. Or perhaps they might have torn each other to pieces then and there, and what if that was best? Rather than the cursed existence they live now, changed and marked by all that's happened to them.
Days ago, he'd thought he'd found some measure of peace and happiness, but just like that? Everything is uncertain again. And that's not even addressing the fact that Jesse knew, he'd known all along and he knows why he didn't say anything, but the spiteful fury still rises like bile in the back of his throat.
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Not a vampire like him, small mercy that that might be. Something else. He can sense it around the edges now that he knows what he's looking for, and it's the glance towards Jesse that reminds him of that feeling.
Demontouched.
"...what have you become?" The words feel numb, spilling out of his mouth.
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Hanzo won’t find anger in that statement to support his doubt of Genji’s forgiveness. It’s merely matter-of-fact. A little stern, maybe. But he sighs, and a tension loosens in his shoulders. He would spare Hanzo this if he could, but he knows his brother. Even now, after all this time. He won’t be content without answers.
The shift, when it happens, is quick. His eyes are the first, the white overtaking both iris and pupil. Their faint glow accentuates the blueish-gray of his skin, shines on sharp incisors, illuminates hints of red arranged almost artistically on his face. His horns are the last to come in, but they more than anything probably confirm Hanzo’s suspicions.
“I was offered a deal," he says, his voice just the same. "A way to cheat death, between one breath and my last. I took it without thinking. This,” he gestures down at himself, “is the result.”
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One moment of blind hunger had doomed them both.
Hanzo's shoulders sag slightly, the corner of his lip almost curling upwards, not i mirth but disgust instead. "Then we are both cursed. After all that, I thought killing you was the worst thing I could have done to you. But look at you now."
All the more reason he wouldn't have forgiven him. And it explained the mask, didn't it? The clan deserved to understand what haunted and hunted them, after what they put them both through. This was a monster of their own making, all of them.
Himself, just as much. Perhaps that is why he was here, now.
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He sheaths the sword still in his hand, a show of trust that Hanzo won’t try to strike him down again.
“I am at peace with what I am, and what I had to do to survive. It’s time you did the same. I’ve forgiven you, and so now you must forgive yourself.” He hooks the mask onto his belt next, letting it hang there, a parody now of what it has been hiding.
“Why, do you think, I’ve been attacking the clan and not you? You’re easy enough to find.” For him, anyway. There's a quiet huff from the cowboy up above.
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He was the elder brother, meant to guide and watch over him. To lead by example. And yes, blame lies with the clan and what they hoped to turn him into, the way they intended to divorce him from his humanity, and make an example of the rebellious younger brother all in one. They deserved whatever vengeance Genji could muster. But it was the beast inside of him that delivered this fate upon him.
His hands were the ones left bloodied. And years of solitude to turn these thoughts over in his head, again and again, stewing in fury and despair, had let him come to terms with what happened only by accepting the blame himself. If Jesse had decided to slay him, then and only then would justice have been done for what was done to Genji. An honest death to release him.
Though that hardly seems to be the case now. Genji remains in this world, cursed as Hanzo was cursed. Now, even his death would not suffice.
His jaw tightens, eyes going harder around the edges. "Why now? If you were truly alive all this time, why only seek me out now?"
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He hadn’t expected any quick resolution. Hanzo had always been stubborn, and he’d always denied himself leeway of any kind. Genji can only hope this is the beginning of something else, a slow-growing seed that can take root in his brother’s heart.
Perhaps, before now, he hadn’t thought it possible for a seed like that to take hold. But lately…
“You’ve changed. I’ve seen it in the way you hunt. And in the company you keep.” He tilts his head towards where his brother’s first fledgling stands watch.
“Before now, I didn’t know if you would listen. I truly did not know how much of my brother remained within you. These last few months have been good to you, brother, whatever it is they’ve wrought.” A quick smile, there and gone like the throwing stars he’d been so fond of as a child.
“That, and there is change in the air. I wasn’t certain I would be able to speak to you before it starts."
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He spares a swift glance towards Jesse, when Genji's gaze flirts that way. There is something there to take note of, but later. There are more important issues at hand. This, he feels, has something to do with the attacks.
With Talon notifying him of Genji's appearance, and actively wanting him to seek him out. What reason could there be? Why is he suddenly involved in all of this, when a year ago he'd been alone and perfectly content to keep it as such?
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Genji indulges himself in a familiar hobby, producing a card with a quick sleight of hand. The plain white card stock appears between his fingers between one second and the next, and he holds it out for Hanzo to take.
“They’re planning something that could throw the world into chaos. But they will not do it unopposed. Your skills and your cunning could do a lot of good on the right side of this fight.”
On the card is a logo, a name, and a single phone number. Nothing else.
“This number goes to a burner phone. You can use it only once before it will be disposed of.”
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"One belonging to the 'right' side. The side you are on."
There...is some appeal to the thought of joining him. Of reuniting with the brother long thought lost, and defeating the evils of this Talon organization. But life is never so black and white as that. It is all too good to be true.
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Speaking of, he is incredibly curious how that’s been going. Last time he spoke to Jesse, the hunter-turned-vampire had been spitting mad at Hanzo, ready to put as many bullets in him as he could. Now, Hanzo is bringing him straight into one of his Hanamura safehouses, and they’re having an argument that sounds suspiciously like a lover’s quarrel. Genji interrupting when he had hadn’t been an accident.
“The invitation extends to him as well. My associates are eager to get in touch.”
With Jesse, that is. Hanzo, not so much. But Genji had insisted. Neither Ana or Jack had been convinced, but that Shimada stubborn streak had won out in the end. Hanzo would get caught in the middle of his fight regardless of his wishes. He should have a chance to do it on his own terms.
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He is pointedly not looking at Jesse when he says it, and his expression is a tell-tale shade of neutral.
"...where will you go, now?" It is not a 'yes', just yet. He doesn't like the feeling of being corralled into anyone's game, played for either side. He will make no decisions just yet, and there is no telling if this is even truly the Genji he remembers. Perhaps the years have changed them irrevocably, if their respective curses did not.
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“My work in Hanamura is done, for now. I’ve left the clan with more than one mess to wake up to.” He smirks flashing a hint of fang. “I’ll leave Japan to visit a friend in the morning. From there, I’ll go where my work takes me.”
He closes his eyes, and his human façade slips back into face. When they open again, they’re back to their familiar brown, and the smirk is gone.
“I… am sorry, that my own anger kept me from having this conversation with you long ago. But now that we’ve spoken once, I hope we can again. If you wish.”
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"...very well."
And, at long last, the arrow slips back into its quiver, the bow collapsing back down once more into a more portable form. There would be no more battle this night, not for them.
"I will consider your words. I can promise no more than that."
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With no weapons between them, Genji chances a step forward. Then another, until he is standing beside Hanzo facing the opposite direction. His hand rests on his brother’s shoulder briefly.
“Take care in the night, brother. Until we meet again.”
Then he continues walking, coming to the edge of the roof before jumping down and out of sight.
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Jesse is there, he can feel his presence and his eyes upon him, and suddenly why Jesse hadn't told him who his informant was becomes abundantly clear. He knew his brother was alive. Watched him mourn for him, and said nothing.
It is more understandable, now. But no less infuriating.
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After the fight had ended, Jesse had felt like he was watching something not meant for him to see. It was incredibly personal… but also, they were still on a rooftop in the middle of Hanamura. So he’d stood watch, something deep in his chest aching as the full details of that night had been laid out in full.
And then it’s over. Genji is gone in a blink, though Jesse doesn’t miss him slipping something into Hanzo’s pocket as he goes. He wonders, fleetingly, if he’ll have a chance to ask Hanzo about that before this all goes to pieces.
He straightens his posture, taking his weight off the windowsill and stepping back into the room.
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If he hasn't slipped away to avoid Hanzo's wrath. Which would have been wise. He doesn't expected he's taken that course, however.
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Seeing Hanzo come back so quickly is almost a relief, even if it brings with it the promise of another argument. The suspense is always the worst part. He looks up and straightens his posture, the cigarillo set aside.
“Hey. You alright?” A stupid question at this point, but it feels like it should be asked.
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Was he? No. Absolutely not. But he felt oddly composed, despite that.
"I thought I had done the worst possible thing," he replies after a pause, brow knitting faintly. "Something I could never be forgiven for. Instead, I have done something far worse."
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“No.”
He shakes his head, chancing one step forward before stopping.
“You don’t get to sit here blamin’ yourself for that.”
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Jesse nears, and that's all it takes for the vampire to tense, shoulders going rigid like he's braced for something. Steeling himself silently as he locks gazes with his fledgling.
He'd known all along. He'd come to find him where he traveled each year to mourn his brother, knowing he was alive. Knowing what had truly become of him. Of course, Genji doubtlessly told him not to reveal his survival, not knowing what Hanzo would do if he'd known but...
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“I wasn’t. What’s that change?”
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"What happened that night changed everything. Every night since. I saw what I had done and I fled. And my weakness doomed us both."
If he had stayed, perhaps he would have seen the change in his brother. They might not have suffered alone as they had through the decades. So much would be different and...even Jesse might still draw breath as a mortal man. Doesn't he understand that?
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“Your weakness?” He’s getting louder, voice ringing with incredulousness. “How were you supposed to know he’d been possessed? How were you supposed to have stopped anything that happened? I wasn’t even there, and I know that what whatever your clan made you believe about having to be perfect is all bullshit. And they would’ve kept you on a leash with it, but you had the strength to get the hell out.”
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Perhaps he'd have known that they never laid a body to rest. Perhaps they might have had another chance. Or perhaps they might have torn each other to pieces then and there, and what if that was best? Rather than the cursed existence they live now, changed and marked by all that's happened to them.
Days ago, he'd thought he'd found some measure of peace and happiness, but just like that? Everything is uncertain again. And that's not even addressing the fact that Jesse knew, he'd known all along and he knows why he didn't say anything, but the spiteful fury still rises like bile in the back of his throat.
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I had NOT realized I had gone so long without a reply!! I still love this thread so here we go \o/
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just let me know if I should change anything!
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guess who just bought themselves a paid account to get demon icons
ahahahah beautiful
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