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He stared at his hands as she sat across from him. His palms were facing upward, a little awkwardly, fingers curled in slightly.

His hands, that in his minds eye were still stained with the blood of his young brother.

He closed them to fists as she repeated the question posed earlier. The one that had brought forth Hanzo's quiet moment of contemplating.

"Is there anything you've always wanted to do. Or change about yourself."

He opened his mouth to speak but as if she had read his mind, she cut him off.

"Aside from what happened with your brother."

He closed his mouth again, frown deepening as he thought it over. He glanced up at his other half, the first thing that caught his eye being her striking haircut.

He envied it, to an extent. She wore it so well, didn't care what others did or said. So wonderfully, unapologetically herself.

And before he realized, he vocalized his thoughts, his envy, and she smiled.

Her hands found his and she gave them a little squeeze and in Hanzo's minds eye there was no longer blood.

"You want to change your hair?" She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly. He thought it over again, frown still in place but softening a little.

He suddenly remembered the time Genji had come home with his green hair. Father had gotten mad but Mother thought it beautiful. Hanzo knew better than to voice his shared appreciation for the new colour that suited the younger Shimada so well.

"Yes."

The word was out before he knew it and Aleksandra let out a little chuckle. She let go of his hands and he immediately missed their warmth. Her warmth.

A warmth he still felt he didn't deserve.

"Anything in mind?" She asked, looking almost excited. He hesitated a bit, looking back up at her.

"Like yours. The shaved part." He said, having the urge to run his fingers through his hair but not doing it. Aleksandra nodded and got up, holding her hand out to him.

"Let's make you look even more handsome then."

Another moment of hesitation before he rose to his feet and took her hand. He usually disliked this sort of affection, or at least, he told himself he did. But for once he indulged.

She took him to the bathroom, free hand grabbing a chair on the way there. He stayed quiet as usual, just observing as she set the chair down and turned around to grab the clippers.

Hanzo sat down, a towel promptly wrapped around him as if he was at a hairdresser. He couldn't remember the last time he didn't cut his own hair. The last time he felt the slight decadence of having someone tend to you and groom you.

He also told himself he hated it but once again he was lying.

"Mind if I undo your hair?"

Hanzo shook his head and felt her fingers untie the knot of his ribbons, his hair coming down a moment later.

Her fingers threaded through the graying locks and she hummed in apericiation.

His eyes slid closed as she brushed it out, allowing himself to enjoy this. Small steps, as she would say.

He felt how she parted his hair, trying the top section up in a rudimentary bun. The clippers were turned on and the harsh buzz nearly took Hanzo out of his relaxed state.

"Alright. You ready?"

He nodded again and a moment after, the clippers were making short work of his hair. Part of him wanted to stop, to let it be but it was to late.

Zarya shaved the rest of his hair, being extra careful when she saved off his sideburns, the part of him that most betrayed his age.

The towel was taken off and with careful motions, she brushed off the stray hair.

"All done."

Hanzo finally opened his eyes and stood up, keeping his gaze away from the mirror, afraid to see himself.

He felt her presence behind him and froze slightly, on instinct. Her arms slowly wrapped around his waist, her chin resting on his shoulder, looking in the mirror at him.

He finally gathered the courage, mentally berating himself for being such a coward when he saw himself.

He gasped and felt tears in his eyes. He caught her smile from the corner of his eye.

"It suits you."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, fists clenching as he fought the urge to cry.

"Thank you."

The words were shaky and sincere and Zarya pressed a soft kiss against his jaw. He looked up at himself again amd musteted a small smile.

Small steps.