Prologue

10 years ago

Shimada Castle

Before him stood the clan's elders and his uncle, Hayato. Only two days ago his father, the leader of the notorious Shimada Clan, Shimada Sojiro, had perished from an unknown sickness. Most people believed he had been poisoned long ago, and been slowly dying since that day, but no one knew for sure. Traces of an unknown substance were found in the body, but disappeared shortly after discovered. Now, as the eldest son, Hanzo was to become the new leader. He formally bowed before his elders.

"Masters," he greeted.

They watched him with indifferent faces, but each gave a short bow as well.

"You realize why you are here, Hanzo?" Akira asked. He was probably the youngest of the council, but only by a few years. Like everyone else gathered, he wore a neatly ironed suit with the same colors which matched his rank.

Hanzo's eyes moved from staring into blank space to looking at the speaker straight in the eyes. He spoke with absolute confidence. "Yes. Now that my father has passed it is my duty to take his place in the ranks of this clan. I'm to take on the responsibility I've been training for since I was a boy."

The five men above him exchanged unsure glances, and a few low murmurs were exchanged among them. Hanzo looked at each of them in turn, confused. Surely there wasn't a catch to this? He'd been prepared for this, he'd had hands-on training, been trusted with his own assassinations, meetings, and trained vigorously all while he had been going to school as well. So, why…?

"What you say is true. However, your brother, Genji, has left us with a difficult choice," Another elder spoke with a heavy sigh. It was Hirosama. Hanzo's common face of indifference dropped, replaced by worry. He would agree any other day that Genji needed to be worked on behavior wise, after all, the things he did weren't very... delightful for everyone else to hear about. He would never take anything seriously-except for training-and became very irresponsible, taking to the city when they should be resting after a hard day's work. However, the tone that the elder spoke in, it didn't sound like they were asking him to help his brother.

"Hanzo," the eldest spoke with a sincere voice, Masato. "You're brother is talented and would be a great asset in helping the clan as a whole, but the nonsense he commits must be put to a stop for once. So we simply leave you with two choices before you arise to your proper rank: you will straighten him out, or you will kill him."

Hanzo unwillingly flinched, and his eyes widened as he tried to search the man's face for some sort of sign that this was a joke. As he took a reflective step back, Masato rose his hand as to stop the young man from leaving. His head was solemnly bowed.

"We realize this may come as a surprise to you, but the Shimada Clan never leaves loose ends. It has been for several years that we have debated over what we shall do with Genji, but your father always sought to protect him from the rest of the clan's wrath. Surely, Hanzo, you realize that his behavior is unacceptable." His uncle took a step forward, stating only facts.

There was only a hint of pity in their faces as Hanzo stared in disbelief. But they were right, the Shimada Clan had never left open ends, the weakest wolf drags down the whole pack. He straightened his stance and put the mask of indifference back on his face with an internal sigh.

"Yes, Masters," he bowed and turned to leave. They would most likely discuss his rise into power after he had dealt with this task.

As soon as he exited his uncle called to him in a stern voice. "It must be done by tonight. No exceptions."

The young man turned his head and nodded, unsure if his uncle could even see him anymore. As he continued to walk, something kept buzzing in the back of his head. It took a moment, but half way across the courtyard, Hanzo realized his uncle might have been the only one that had given no real sign of sympathy. The face he recalled was a clean slate, as most have been taught to use, but for a split second, there must've been greed in his eyes. A greed he didn't particularly like. He took a moment to glare at the grass for not noticing this simple act before.

Hanzo made his way to sit on a bench, watching the swaying trees below and the distant roofs of Hanamura's skyscrapers behind the wall. Today was Sunday, commonly a day to mourn or rest in most cultures, and that's exactly what everyone was doing. Some of the men who worked here went home to visit families for the whole day while others stayed and continued to work. For his brother, however, today was no different. Genji was probably out in the town, and being the man he is, was having sex with whichever woman he could sway or sitting on his lazy ass with his eyes glued on the screen of an ancient arcade game. He gave a frustrated grunt, Genji was enthralled by those things, making a new life outside the clan with his charming personality. The elders were right, their father had been the only thing protecting Genji from an inevitable doom. Was there even a chance of him giving up his ways now? His younger brother would only complain that it had taken him so long to create his outside life, and that he, Hanzo, should loosen up more and come around for another drink.

Hanzo's head shot up at the sound of footsteps to find that before him was one of his former teachers.

"You have that dramatic look again," he commented, causing Hanzo to raise an eyebrow. "Come on, I know they've asked you to take on the responsibility of becoming master of the Shimada Clan, just about everyone knows. But unlike the others, I'm guessing there's more. Something about Genji."

Hanzo sighed and tucked his hair behind an ear so he could see his teacher in his peripheral vision, unwilling to look him in the eye. The older man sat next to him on the bench, folding his hands in his lap. For a moment he stared out at the scene as well, but then he noticed his former pupil's hunched back.

"Come on, sit straight," he said, sharply tapping on the young man's back. Hanzo complied, stretching a bit, and feeling the need to speak his mind. After all, this was a rather large load, and his teachers were some of the only people he felt he could speak comfortably with, along with Genji, of course.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful for my brother, but he's so difficult. Everyday he leaves, frolicking among women and sometimes even leaving to the city for a few days at a time. The elders have given me an impossible task. I'm either to convince my brother to become my right-hand and take on a similar responsibility, or..." Hanzo trailed off and bowed his head again, shoulders slumping.

"Kill him," his teacher finished with a small sigh and an apologetic smile. "Yes, it has been talked over for years. It greatly pains me to think that Genji should go. He's a very talented man, training him was a great joy of mine, and I still enjoy sparring with him. I know it will be harder for you to rid of him. After all, you carry a great burden now, and Genji will decide whether you continue to carry it or not."

The words felt blunt and uncaring, and in that moment, Hanzo saw himself as the only one that truly loved his brother. His teacher placed a comforting hand on his back.

"Perhaps we should have some tea," he said after a thoughtful moment. He stood up and began walking, expecting the younger to follow.

"Of course," Hanzo stood up as well and did as he was expected. Hopelessness sunk like rock in his stomach as he walked. Everyone spoke as though they thought-no, knew -that he would have to kill his brother.

A cool wind passed by and caused several leaves to float by. Fall was here, the 26th day of September. Ironic. This was the season of bounty, yet it already reeked of blood.

For two hours they relaxed and talked over their drinks in a dimly lit sitting room. Their topic rarely reached any mention of today's agenda, and Hanzo silently gave thanks to his old teacher.

Above them, the old analog clock rhythmically ticked as a comfortable silence settled between them.

Only now did Hanzo calmly glance at it, and when he did, it startled him. Six in the evening would probably be the deadline for him to complete his task. The clock showed that his time had shortened to two hours.

"I'm so sorry, but I really must go," he gave an apologetic smile and rose, setting his cup down in front of him. "Genji is probably back by now, and I need to go… complete my task."

"You are free to go. There's no stopping a Shimada from completing his job, as the old saying goes." His mentor rose as well and called for an omnic to clean up after them.

There was a secluded street of buildings only accessible from Shimada Castle, in a rather good condition of course. They housed the Shimadas, of course, and the elders, and most other buildings would be used as offices or storage areas. Entering the area, he noticed his brother disappear through the door of their shared house. His stomach dropped immediately, and he silently followed, eventually making his way over to his own room.

Stepping inside the innocent place, he took a deep breath. For a brief moment the plain wood paneled walls and the sparsely furnished room brought his sense of calm back. He was standing in the middle of a thin and faded old rug, one that his birth mother had gifted to him. It told a story, but rather than the story of two dragons their father had always told with a certain fondness, it was one of a wolf and a dog. The moral had been imprinted in his head, "Better starve free than be a fat slave." It was a story he truly took to heart and commonly made metaphors with.

Hanzo glanced in the mirror and ended up staring at his own face for a while, distracting himself by spacing out. Thoughts slid in and out of his mind, some good, some bad, some simply thinking about the ingredients to a dish. An impatient, faint blue glow emitted from his left arm, bringing with it a slight burning sensation, jarring Hanzo out of the trance.

With a sigh, he changed into a set of clothes more fitting for the time to come. His reluctant eyes caught the glint of metal, and his fingers lingered for a moment over his weapons, mainly the katana. Hanzo hesitated to pick up the piece of graceful destruction that leaned against his dresser. He knew that his brother would refuse to stop his daily schemes, and he realized at the back of his mind he'd always known this day would come. There was never a possibility that they could avoid Genji's early death, even as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise. He let out a long sigh.

This was it.

Reaching down he equipped his common gear, but when it came to donning his katana, the blade felt heavier. The weapon carried a burden now, a task nearly impossible to complete.

He left the room and walked back into the castle grounds, finally coming to stand in front of the large shrine. They were often taught martial arts here, despite it not being a dojo, and they still took occasional lessons and practice, coming here every so often. Hanzo strode into the empty building and stood in the middle, staring up at the picture painted above. He reached for his phone and went to call his brother, solemnly watching. For a few moments he was forced to listen to the phone ring. At last, Genji picked up.

"Hey, Hanzo," his brother phone was on speaker and Hanzo could hear the rustling of clothes as his brother struggled to dress and communicate at the same time.

"Hello. Could you meet me in the temple, Genji?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"I'll explain when you're here."

Hanzo hung up before Genji could give a confused 'huh?'

A few unbearably long minutes later, Genji appeared in the temple. He yawned despite the fact that it was far past noon, and it appeared that he had just taken a shower. He was missing a sheath.

"Afternoon, brother," Genji greeted.

"Hello, Genji," was the short response he gave. His heart fluttered nervously.

"There is... Something we must talk about, Genji."

"Yeah, uh, I figured that out from the call. What is it?" There was a slight slur in his voice, and it sounded like his brother was trying to mask it.

With a deep breath Hanzo rose and walked stoic towards his brother, looking him straight in the eye. "You must quit."

Genji snickered. "Hah, what?"

"Genji, please. Follow our father's legacy with me, quit all your nonsense. No more women, no more hangovers," A small anger began to grow in his chest. "Stop living with all your short term happiness and distractions, and get a life! Our father sacrificed so much for you, the least you could do is help me and participate in the clan's activities."

Genji stared at his brother in disbelief, Hanzo would scold him from time to time, but never did he actually get so angry to the point of near shouting. The younger brother's eyes glanced at the sword attached to his and his brother's waist. It may have been common for the Shimadas to carry weapons around, but Hanzo never carried any weapon half drawn. His intoxicated mind tried to comprehend what that meant, but it kept faltering when he tried to come to a conclusion. Instead, he stupidly tried to defend his actions, getting mad himself.

"You want me to get a life? Look at you, Hanzo. You stay cooped up in the castle, training with our teachers and doing homework all day! We're not even in school anymore," he shouted. "I'm going out there and actually living, I have tons of friends, and they're not here because of fear unlike all that you know. I even have a part time job. You can't even find yourself a girlfriend!"

"This isn't a joke, Genji, you and I are supposed to continue this empire together. Our honor is bound, not to mention the gifts we have been given," Hanzo spat back, the words his brother had said actually made him feel guilt. In a way, he was right, and the elder felt bad about himself, but at this point the words only created more fuel for his anger to burn. "And maybe I would get the kind of life you think of, if you pulled your own weight! I'm the one picking up after you, I'm the one doing all the work, I'm the one who is supposed to take responsibility of an entire empire and you never lifted a finger to help me! "

The outburst startled the younger, and Genji stared at Hanzo for a long moment, his slight drunkenness was gone, and he seemed completely sober. He opened his mouth to say something, but his voice refused to work.

Genji let out a pathetic squeak.

"Are you finally listening to me?" Hanzo shouted at his brother's stupidly surprised face. His breaking point reached. "Father is dead, so is our mother, and no one is here to protect your juvenile actions! I am not going to help you continue this nonsense. I'm trying to help you stop. If you won't join me and regain our honor, then..."

His voice faltered slightly and Hanzo's hand tightened on the hilt of a half drawn blade.

The room was silent, the only sound was the wind gently pushing leaves wherever it pleased, bringing a certain chill that neither of the brothers liked. There was not a person in sight, everyone who had been here had moved away. An angry Shimada was not one to be trifled with.

For a while no one spoke a word, it was just a simple standoff between the two, both waiting for the other to speak. Until Hanzo's anger reached out again, a rare thing that happened to the well composed man.

"Are you going to answer me, idiot?" Hanzo spat.

Genji still stood dumbfounded, staring at his brother and unsure of what to do. Hanzo decided to take action, anger coursing through his veins, and furrowing hi brow, his katana leapt out of its sheath and swiped at his brother's torso. The rage that had suddenly engulfed him only cared for some type of revenge, and the blade tore through Genji's skin, a red ribbon trailing in its wake.

The latter stumbled back and tripped to his knees with a yelp, pressing his hand against the large cut. It wasn't deep, but not shallow enough to be considered light, and his hand was quickly painted in blood. Genji took a moment, hunching over himself and trying to get over the burning pain. There was a dull thud in front of him, causing him to flinch. He glanced up to find an annoyed Hanzo that had just threw a shuriken to grab his attention. Another one still sat lightly between his fingers, fidgeting impatiently.

"Get up, you pathetic whelp."

Hanzo threw the second shuriken, catching Genji in the arm. His katana was still unsheathed and casually wavered by his side, impatiently waiting for his brother to face him.

Seeing he had no choice, the young man lifted himself up, tripping over himself and taking several deep breaths in the process. Hanzo continued to glower at him until Genji removed his own sword from its sheath. The elder's eyes lit and he muttered something under his breath that Genji never caught.

Hanzo didn't hold back. A long buried anger, which he had never realized he held, released from the depths of his mind. He fumed, only sparing half his attention towards his physical actions. Every annoyance and ignorant thing Genji had done flooded his mind, and with each swipe, a memory was relieved with vengeance.

But Genji wasn't holding on as well. Fear had taken hold of him. He hadn't been given even a chance to ready a stance before Hanzo jumped on him. Vicious attacks cut his arms and warm blood trickled down, soaking into his clothes, and every time the blade tapped him, the cool steel made him shiver. Sweat beaded his forehead as he did his best to dodge and parry every attack his brother made.

Genji managed to disengage in a dangerous leap to the side, barely avoiding a side cut from Hanzo, and decided it best to keep a distance from his brother as he tried to cope with the overwhelming pain. As soon as he reached the opposite end, he collapsed, hand still tightly wrapped around the hilt of his blade. Each arm was laced with scarlet, the cut on his chest bled uncomfortably through his clothes. Something was tickling his calf.

Sprawled on the floor, a small pool of blood forming around him, Genji didn't even try to look up at his brother, eyes cast down on the floor that was close enough to kiss.

Hanzo let out a grunt of disapproval.

"I always knew you were weak." He dragged it out in a harsh whisper, approaching the tired figure.

"You can't land a hit on me," A taunt and a light laugh. There was a hint of uncertainty in those eyes. "What am I kidding, you can't even look at me in the eyes!"

Genji lifted his chest off the floor and sat on his knees. He glared at Hanzo for just a moment, just before their eyes met. Then the younger brother's face fell, Hanzo was tired. His face and eyes depressed, lines of fury outlining the features further, and a layer of hopelessness staining the entire thing. Lost hope for what could've been a happy ending? Genji got no further in his thoughts. Hanzo had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and he found himself thrown to the other end of the shrine. The impact caused him to release what little air was still in his lungs, and left him breathless. Propping himself up on his arms, he found Hanzo was still standing on the other side, but the katana was gone. In its place was a bow; an arrow already drawn back.

The string barely gave a whisper as Hanzo's fingers let go. There was a thud, Genji screamed.

Tears threatened to appear Hanzo's eyes, as he drew back once more, if it was of regret, he couldn't tell, but it saved his brother's life for a bit longer. The arrow was at full draw. He had a clear shot.

And missed.

Another thud echoed in Genji's left ear. His eyes immediately turned to glance at the splintered wood beside him, and his stomach dropped. Only a centimeter away from his head.

The broadhead arrow that had buried itself in his right arm was hardly noted now that death had whispered in his ear. Hanzo had lowered his bow, but Genji didn't notice.

After a moment of panic, the pain of the first arrow brought him back to reality, and he gasped again, breaking off the shaft. He struggled to stand up on shaky legs, head drowning in pain.

Only thinking his brother would attack again, his left hand reached to grab three shurikens and release them in rapid succession.

Hanzo had been lost in thought for a moment, reflecting on what he had done-or what he had nearly done. All three struck his shoulder and chest. He only blinked, staggering from the surprising amount of force put into them. Genji took in the opportunity in front of him. Hanzo was distracted, extracting the blades from his shoulder, and he… Well, he had nothing. His hand reached down for the wakizashi that normally sat on his hip, but it wasn't there, and the katana, he'd dropped it when Hanzo threw him. That meant there was only one option.

He charged at his brother.

One hand was clasped on the broken arrow still buried in his lower arm, and he bent his head forward, letting out an attention-grabbing yell. Hanzo only raised an eyebrow and moved out of the way. His bow came around Genji's neck, abruptly stopping the charge, and he flung his brother away, lifting the usually ranged weapon off to forward the momentum.

The world tilted, and all he could feel was the immense pain of the arrow burying deeper into his arm, and for a moment, Hanzo stared at his unmoving body.

His older brother seemed to have no emotion on his face. It was that same stoic face he used every day, but now there were stains. Hanzo had tossed his bow away, literally casting it behind him, and approached the body, hoping to find it still alive. Was it too cruel to hope his brother was still alive in this state, was it selfish?

Genji had managed to land right next to his sword, as he'd hoped. Of course, now he was more bruised than ever, and his neck had the uncomfortable sensation that he was being choked, but nevertheless, he had a weapon again. Controlling his breathing to cause the rise of his chest it be as low as it could go, he waited for the near silent steps of his brother to inch closer. His grip tightened on the hilt, and once he felt close enough, he leapt up with what little strength he had. Hanzo flinched and jumped back immediately as Genji tried to catch him unaware. However, contrary to the older's beliefs, Genji didn't immediately attack. Instead he started muttering under his breath, voice steadily getting louder, and arms outstretched, the blade in hand.

"Ryūjin no ken w-"

He got no further. As fast as the green head of a dragon appeared, it disappeared. Hanzo had been quick to react to the summoning of the dragon. His katana was out of its sheath once more, and in one determined swing, it sliced through Genji's shoulder in a hideous display. The blade had gone upward and through his armpit, neatly sliding through bone and flesh alike. And through a sudden eerie silence, behind the squelching of a severed arm, the tapestry tore like paper, echoing throughout the temple.

And despite the protesting roar of the green dragon, Hanzo wasn't done. He brought down the blade in a diagonal arc, following his last attack and believing that simply removing Genji's grip on the blade wouldn't stop the spirit. The katana split Genji's mouth, nearly halving his jaw, damaging the teeth, and bloodying the gums of his once handsome face.

The young man's eyes widened, and if his jaw wasn't broken, he might've let out an ear-piercing scream. Every nerve screeched from the tremendous pain, and his mind felt like it was folding in on itself. Genji stumbled back, blood pouring from his broken body, and black spots dancing in front of his eyes. Eventually, he felt his back collide with something actually soft, but behind that soft cloth was blood. There was a muffled shout coming from the direction of his brother, and when he turned to look with tear filled and disoriented eyes, a blurry figure charging at him and yelling something that was lost in the heavy beating of his heart.

Hanzo had let his brother move as far away as he needed, and there were two reasons. The severing of Genji's arm and the near split of his jaw disgusted him, and for the fact that further anger had built up in his chest after Genji's attempt at using the dragon against him. The katana was still in his hands, and his grip flexed, stressed and angry. He saw the helpless figure stumble before him, but the helpless part didn't seem to register in his mind. He shouted at the near collapsed figure, his blade raised angrily. Yet… against all odds, the blade flies out of his hands. Genji, using the last of his energy and focus, managed to reach up with his remaining arm and disarm his brother. Unfortunately, that didn't prevent what was to come. What could've been a quicker death was now a longer and more painful one.

Hanzo, although surprised by his brother's move, recovered quickly and still fought with the momentum. He grabbed Genji's outstretched arm and pulled so that Genji's whole body swung with it. Using the palm of his hand, he pounded his brother's spine, fracturing the bone, then continued on by placing his heel in the crook of his leg causing Genji to collapse. With a loud grunt of anger, Hanzo brought his palm back down on his upper back, causing his younger brother to fade into a state between consciousness and unconsciousness.

The elder whipped around and grabbed his blade off the floor. Then he turned back around, aiming to finish the job, but suddenly realized what he was actually looking at.

His once-beloved brother, a broken body, hanging onto the last string of life. A dull clatter echoed in the shrine.

Genji was staring at the wall with glazed eyes, and Hanzo's stomach dropped. He frowned, and walked towards his brother. His knees grew weaker every second he was forced to watch his dying brother.

Genji's eyes darter in his direction once they were only a few feet apart. His brother's mouth opened oddly, his lips only a centimeter apart. Hanzo didn't feel he had the strength to do anything, hands dropping by his sides, only able to grip something small. Genji glanced down, confused, and finally tried to speak in a hoarse choke.

"H-Hanz...o… I.. 'm… sca-ared..."

Red trickled down his throat as Hanzo lifted the knife he'd put to his brother, last words echoing in his ears. Words he used to hear which made him want to help his brother, protect him.

He couldn't take it anymore. Mentally exhausted, Hanzo's legs collapsed under him, and he stared down at his lifeless brother with blurry eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing except a sigh came out. He struggled back to his feet... and started to run. Every step was a stumble, and he fell into a heap of sadness in the secluded space of grass where he hoped nobody would find him. His weeping didn't last long and soon he was left reconsidering every little act he'd done in his life.

Blood, sweat, and tears.

The showing of hard work. What people put into the things they loved.

He'd done it just like them.

Yet it wasn't the same.

"...I am so sorry..."