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The Winter Is Cold

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Dinner was a few hours out yet. Sojiro was caught in the hallway by one of the service staff, asking if he’d step aside and speak with Mr. Ogundimu privately. Sojiro agreed, and casually waved Hanzo off to do as he liked. It was a blessing in a way; except from chores and training,allowed to just waste the day away and totally absolutely not panic about the potential stranger he may or may not be marrying. Haha.

 

Once Sojiro was out of sight and Hanzo could no longer hear his steps, Hanzo cursed rather vibrantly. He unceremoniously shoved the enormous sleeves of the decorative kimono he wore up his sleeves, and then began digging through his many, many layers to get to his feet.

 

He would not walk all the way to his room in the geta. Dragging fabric be damned, his feet hurt.

 

Once he pushed aside the paper wall to his bedroom, he all but hurled the geta into his closet. Two young omega were waiting for him to fuss, and flurry, and fan at him as they began unwrapping him from his expensive fabric prison. Hanzo let them, finally allowing his shoulders to relax a little.

 

Entirely too long later, Hanzo was free of the ensemble. The staff took the many layers away to be pressed and cleaned and prepared for their next use. Luckily, Hanzo was actually allowed to wear pants to dinner.

 

Thank Fuck.

 

Redressing was significantly easier. A soft shirt, a pair of jeans. Socks on his feet. He reached his hands back, pulled his long white hair up into a messy topknot, and then immediately left his room. He could, even in the hall, already hear Genji in his room not far from him. It sounded like Grand Theft Auto.

 

“How many hookers have you run over?” Hanzo eased the door back to step in. As expected, the room was an absolutely nightmarescape of long lost laundry, old plates, cups on every flat surface. Genji was sitting on the floor in front of a TV, far too close for Hanzo’s comfort, and his thumbs clacked loudly on the controller.

 

A twizzler was hanging out of his mouth like a limp cigarette.

 

“Twelve,” came the quiet, serene reply from the bed. Zenyatta was curled up on the surprisingly clean bed, sitting in a lotus position with a book in his lap. He lifted a hand to Hanzo as he entered, and patted the comforter beside him. “He is doing a timed trial, I think. He’ll return to us soon.”

 

“Too soon,” Hanzo grumbled as he fell onto the bed.

 

Zenyatta was...a gift. A strange gift, but a gift. He had been from an exceptionally well to do family from Nepal. They had, eons ago, been tasked with the upkeep of some certain temple that Hanzo didn’t know the name of. At some point they were wanting to hire out of the Shimada’s security detail, Mondatta--the older brother--had brought Zenyatta along as company.

 

Genji had, basically, fallen at first sight. Mondatta thought it was precious. Sojiro was...concerned. The council was furious. But, well. Genji was Genji and it hadn’t taken much for him to spirit Zenyatta away and mark him as a mate before someone could tell him ‘no’. Since then, Zenyatta has lived alongside Hanzo’s crazy little brother. A calm in the storm. The rock, so to speak. And he was pretty, with his dark skin and fluffy dark hair. He had tiny little dark brown ears, and an exceptionally fluffy tail that curled like a cinnabun bun against the small of his back. He’d been the first Hanzo had ever seen to have such a tightly wound little tail.

 

Said tail wiggled a little as the younger man’s attention fell back on Genji. Hanzo followed his gaze, watching his brother lean extremely to the left and started making some sort of growling noise as if to encourage his car on screen to move faster.

 

“Fuck!”

 

“Elegant,” Hanzo snorted. He watched the screen darken and the word WASTED appear before Genji was, quite literally, spinning on his ass to look at his older brother.

 

“When did you get here? Where’s your dress?”

 

“I gave it back to Walt Disney,” Hanzo snipped. Zenyatta lifted his book to hide his snickering.

 

“Wait, it’s only like…” Genji glanced at his desk, the clock barely visible, and chewed his twizzler like a piece of wheat. “Like, three.” Those dark eyes met Hanzo’s again before immediately lighting up. “Oh my God. He found someone.”

 

“Genji--”

 

“Dad actually liked someone!” Genji butt-scooted himself across the floor to sit directly in front of his brother, practically bouncing. “Holy shit! I didn’t think he’d ever find someone he liked! Tell me about them. Boy or girl? Are they grouchie? Do I need to stab a hoe?”

 

“Genji,” Zenyatta admonished. The threat was lost in his laughter though.

 

“Come on,” Genji beamed, slapping Hanzo’s knees hard enough to make the other boy yelp. “Spill!”

 

“I would if you’d take a breath,” Hanzo huffed. “Someone from Talon, a mutt.” Genji’s surprise was evident, and Hanzo barrelled on before he could be bombarded with more questions. “Apparently the two best agents in Talon mated, which produced a mutt. But he’s...frighteningly strong. I don’t know what he can do, but Ogundimu brought him himself. Says he’s gifted like me, I guess? Apparently both of his parents are “gifted” too. Whatever that means.”

 

“Genetic modification?” Zenyatta lowered his book, now interested and serious.

 

“I don’t know,” Hanzo repeated. “He’s tall. A little lighter than you, Zen, but his hair is more chesnut than dark. And it’s long, he needs a cut.”

 

“Okay,” Genji bounced. “What’s he like?”

 

“I don’t know,” Hanzo admitted. “He’s joining us for dinner. But,” he cut Genji off again. “But, I’m...worried. Afraid? His eyes , Genji...there’s something really, really wrong with his eyes. So much so he actually frightened father.”

 

The silence in the room was only broken by the ‘you died’ music trilling from the TV. Genji looked skeptical, while Zenyatta’s face was less direct in it’s emotion. Hanzo shrugged a shoulder and glanced past his brother.

 

“So, good job wrapping your car around a pole.”

 

“He scared father?” The skepticism was clear in his little brother’s voice. Hanzo wanted to roll his eyes hard enough to launch them into orbit but only barely kept himself from doing so.

 

“Enough that Father not only stood down, but backed away from him a step.” They made eye contact again. The twizzler bounced up and down in Genji’s mouth for a moment while the younger man scanned Hanzo’s face for a falsehood. Eventually, he either saw what he needed to or got bored, because he turned away and butt-scooted back to the TV.

 

“You think my driving’s bad? You’re shit at it.”

 

“I’m a excellent driver.”

 

“Not in this game!” Genji waved the controller. “Wanna bet?”

 

“...Fine.” Hanzo stood and went to join his brother, snatching the controller from him before sitting down. “Watch and learn, little brother.”