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Hanzo Shimada was a heartless bastard. That was a simple truth of the world. When Jesse McCree first met him, he'd described him as "pricklier than a porcupine and twice as ornery." It wasn't far from the truth, and Hanzo's glare only served as proof.
But as time went on, Jesse found little hints that he was wrong. Hanzo's actions showed the smallest traces of a heart lurking beneath the bastard exterior. It was in the way Mei's tea was already prepared to her liking after pulling an all-nighter in the lab, how Hana's snack stash was mysteriously filled after a bad day, how the ramp leading down to Bastion's garden was fixed the same day Torbjorn lamented he just didn't have enough time in the day to repair it.
It was in the way Hanzo sat with Jesse after a particularly wretched night, a quiet and comforting presence.
Jesse was wrong, he decided much, much later. Hanzo did have a heart, and as he watched the dragon sleep soundly next to him, Jesse smiled and gently brushed a lock of hair from his face.
Yes, Hanzo Shimada had a heart, and Jesse was grateful he'd been trusted with it.