closed thread
acceptedmyselfâ:
 hzoshimodaâ:
âI⌠canât let you say that about her. About Father, perhaps. But Mother, I am certain she loved you with all her heart.â
He is standing straight again, his shoulders relaxed and his voice a slight bit more poised, though the frustration in his chest lingers. More self-depreciative talk was precisely what he had wanted to avoid from Hanzo, damnit!
âWe both carry the burden of their memories, Brother. We donât have to do this each on our own.â He approaches closer. âThatâs a matter on which I want you to be selfish. This is our only way to truly reconcile.â
He paused again when his brother handed him the picture. For a time, he couldnât help gazing longly at it, letting his metallic digits softly click against the glass of the frame, over his parentsâ image.
Eh. He remembered they always took family photos on actual film because it was tradition. Ironic how it survived the destruction of this place better than anything they had digitized.
âIâll have Athena make a copy when we get back. Then Iâll give it back to you. I think the original should be yours.â
Genji does not remember their mother as Hanzo does. As he got older, she became more distant. The figure that Hanzo so readily clung to as a child had fallen out of a maternal role and into a more distant one, as if they were cousins rather than mother and son. It worsened as Hanzo grew older and fell under the tutelage of his father and other relatives. Perhaps she smelled the rot in her eldest son before it was fully realized. Hanzo knew now that his downfall had no singular turning point, but could be tracked back to a number of insignificant cosmic events, so who could say when he had truly âgone badâ.
He refused to accept the photograph, making sure to cross his arms and leave Genji hanging. âOriginal or not, it does not matter,â he said. âI will accept a copy, but you are the one who went to such garish lengths for this relic. It is only right for you to have âthe originalâ,â Sarcasm dripped from his tone as he turned away to face the exit in which they had came.
It was a shame that everything they had found was in ruins. Hanzo had some good clothes stashed here that he was fond of, but they were nowhere to be seen. Oh well.
âWe should go,â he said. âThis is a detour, after all, and I find it shameful to keep others waiting.â He knew that it would be a useless endeavor to argue with his younger brother, especially on the tpoic of selfishness and reconcilation. Genji could have his views, and that was fine, but Hanzo refused to drag his brother along on the narrow trail that was âredemptionâ. In truth, he doubted he would ever see the end of his journey, but Genji did not need to know that. His younger brother was still pushing him on, assuming that there was hope for him, when in truth Hanzo found his existence bleak and overall meaningless. Again: Genji did not need to know that. Let his little brother think with optimism.










