Hanzo leaned back and relaxed as his last arrow perfectly acquired its target. He hadn't meant to but he had ended up training in the range for several hours now. Depleting all of his arrows at one point, Hanzo switched it up to close-quarters combat whilst the very helpful AI Athena generated new arrows for him.

Before he knew it, it was painfully late, he was drenched in sweat, his muscles ached and exhaustion weighed on his shoulders. Hanzo had only been in Overwatch, at the behest of his brother, for about three weeks and found it difficult to fit in. Granted, the group was a motley assortment of chaos and disorder but Hanzo nonetheless felt out of place.

Genji's attempts to help him get along with the group were kind and appreciated but in vain. Everytime he looked at Genji, Hanzo felt his mind slipping away, as if darkness were swallowing his mental faculties whole.

This place, ironically enough, was a haven for Hanzo. To get away from his self-inflicted anxiety and worries. He only felt at ease when in combat.

"Shall I reset the course, Shimada-san?" The disembodied voice of Athena boomed overhead, conversing in perfect Japanese for Hanzo's comfort. She was a helpful, invisible ally for Hanzo. Quiet when he needed her to be, but very vocal about his abnormal sleep patterns.

"No need," Hanzo responded back respectfully. "Thank you, Athena. But as I have informed you before, please, call me Hanzo."

"Apologies, Hanzo," Athena quipped, almost playfully. "The request must have timed out hours ago when you first asked."

Hanzo rolled his eyes. Her concern was kind, nothing akin to a mother but more like a playful older sister. Hanzo ran a hand through his hair, now let down due to the intensity of his work-out. "I understand, Athena. I suppose it would be good to rest my eyes."

"And everything else." The lights of the training arena began dimming as Hanzo exited the range and head toward the locker room.

It was a lavish, stylish establishment. With rows and rows of lockers dominating the space, each one carrying a white placard with the names of the owner's' written on there. Too many of these lockers seemed long-abandoned.

Hanzo headed toward his locker, his name reading SHIMADA HANZO. Opening it, he didn't find many things inside. A change of clothes, some equipment, the ridiculous hooded sweatshirt Genji had gotten him his first week here. Hanzo considered the hoodie.

Removing his top, Hanzo slipped the hoodie on. On his chest was the Overwatch emblem design and on the back was something from Tracer and Genji apparently. The archaic language was lost to Hanzo but it was something the younger members of Overwatch greatly appreciated, they called it, ah, what was the word. Retro?

On his back in huge bolded letters read #TEAMSHIMADA. He wasn't sure what the message meant exactly only that whenever Hana Song saw him she would flash him a grin, make a heart shape with her hands and state the message aloud.

Hanzo walked over to the east side of the locker room and spotted a few couches. It felt out of place to have several leather couches set up here but Hanzo appreciated its comfort. Sitting upon the couch, Hanzo sighed deeply as comfort and tranquility seeped into his aching muscles.

He closed his eyes, hoping for rest to come quickly. Hanzo had been having trouble sleeping nowadays but he couldn't help it. Everytime he looked at Genji… the guilt gnawed at his throat, threatening to suffocate him. He longed to see Genji smile again. Hanzo wondered if he ever would…

With a start, Hanzo opened his eyes but found he wasn't in the locker room anymore.

The bright, summer sun shone down on Hanzo, granting him dark splotches in his vision as a thanks for staring directly at it. A cool breeze blew over Hanzo's hair, and he heard the familiar cadence of cicadas screeching in the air.

Hanzo looked forward and saw he was sitting in the middle of a park. A large sandpit was situation in the middle, nestled in-between a decently sized canopy of trees and greenery. A colorful structure of tunnels, nets, and slides occupied the sandpit. Off to the side were an array of swings; of tires and bench.

Kids played on the jungle-gym, some dutifully playing fantasy games of knights and dragons, some swung haphazardly on the swings and some content to sit in the sand and play with their action figures. Hanzo recognized this place, it was the park just outside of Hanamura, closer toward the countryside on the western region.

Hanzo's mother used to take him and Genji out here every weekend. It was his favorite time with her and it was only until he reached adulthood that he realized why she would take them here. To get away from the blood-drenched Shimada family.

Hanzo looked down at his hands and was unsurprised to find them tiny and diminutive. Looking at his legs he found he wasn't tall enough to reach the ground from his seated position. Hanzo had the body of a seven year old again.

Ah, a dream.

Hanzo exhaled through his nose. How annoying. He remembered something his elderly uncle used to say, "You know age begins to weigh on you when you dream of the past!"

Perhaps this was his subconscious telling him he was beginning to get old. Hanzo shook his head and began to examine his clothing, distracting himself from his uncle's words. He was dressed as a child should be, he wore a bright yellow-black shirt with a cartoonish design of a bumblebee on his chest along with the English phrase BEE COOL written underneath it.

His shorts and sneakers matched perfectly and almost immaculately, the thought of being so well-dressed comforted him. Running his hands through his hair, he found his hair was rather long, it density weighing on Hanzo's head like a blanket.

"Is that him?"

Hanzo blinked and stared, in confusion, at the little girl who was pointing at her. First point of confusion, she wasn't Japanese. That much was obvious by her lilting British accent and use of English. Second point of confusion, Hanzo knew this girl.

She stood a ways away from him and was pointing directly at him. Her brown hair exploded from her head in a curly mess barely being contained by a hairband, exposing her forehead. Her brown eyes twinkled with curiosity and excitement which matched her smug smirk. Her skin was darkly tanned, making the splash of freckles on her face turn almost beet red. Tanlines around her neck and shoulders could be seen though.

The girl wore a shirt that read, in English of course, PRESS HERE TO ACTIVATE MY BRITISH ACCENT along with the Union Jack being fashioned into a button right where her belly-button would've been. Like Hanzo, she wore shorts and running shoes.

Lena Oxton, or Tracer, of Overwatch stood in front of him. Despite there being an age difference of twelve years between the two, this version of Lena looked to be Hanzo's age.

"What the f-"

"Big brother!"

A tiny boy ran out from behind Lena and ran toward him and Hanzo forgot how to breath. It was like someone placed his heart in a mechanical press. Genji ran toward him, his eyes filled with tears and a bright smile on his face. He was about 4 years old but he didn't look how he did at that age.

His hair was colored green and a metallic headband framed his forehead. He wore a white shirt (suspiciously stained pink and brown, like ice-cream stains) and white shorts and wore his favorite light-up sneakers. In one of his hands he held a half-eaten, half-melted ice-cream cone and when he embraced Hanzo he was very sticky.

Hanzo flushed in embarrassment and almost instinctively pushed Genji off him but the boy cried, muttering in Japanese on how he got lost in the park after Hanzo took a nap. Hanzo reminded himself that this was just a dream… It was just a dream…

But still, Hanzo hugged him back and patted his head. "It's okay, Genji. I am here. You're okay."

Hanzo looked up at Lena who was standing by, grinning and giggling to herself. Hanzo put two and two together. Genji must have gotten lost and Lena found him and returned him to Hanzo. He wondered if she knew Japanese at this age but then remembered it was just a dream.

"Arigat- er, that is. Thank you, for finding my brother." Hanzo blinked in surprise at how perfect his English was.

Lena winked at Hanzo and grinned. "It's not a problem at all," she promised. "My little sis runs off all the time, so, I'm pretty good at finding little siblings."

Hanzo didn't know that Lena had a sister and wondered if that was a product of his dream. "I am Hanzo Shimada, this is my brother Genji."

"Hi!" Genji said, grinning broadly. "I'm Genji!"

"Lena Oxton, at your service," Lena giggled, a sound that reminded Hanzo of delicate bells. She approached the bench and stared at the empty spot beside Hanzo. "May I?"

Hanzo nodded and Lena sat to his right with Genji to his left. Hanzo glanced at her chest, surprised that she wasn't wearing her time-manipulation device. He wondered when she had gotten it, in fact, he wondered a lot of things about her. Lena caught Hanzo gaze and he blushed, turning away but she grinned knowingly at him.

"Cool shirt innit?" Lena asked, stretching out her shirt to get a better view. "Mamaí got it for me when we were walkin' through Oxford Street. Ro didn't like it but silim go bhfuil sé greannmhar, haha!"

Hanzo blinked, confused entirely by her sudden slip but Lena hadn't seemed to notice it. He knew what it was like, though, being taught multiple languages growing up. As a child, Hanzo had to learn several languages ranging from Japanese and English to French and German. It was a skill necessary to communicate with other leaders of various organizations.

It was particularly bad when he was seventeen. Spending weeks if not months abroad he would have to rapidly alternate between languages to keep up in social events. When he came back to Genji he confused the poor boy when he slipped from Japanese and jumped to Italian instinctively.

"Ah, sorry," Hanzo said, offering a weak smile. "I am afraid I do not understand that language."

Lena blushed and laughed loudly but it was not to embarrass Hanzo but to cover her own shame. "Sorry, sorry, um, basics it's Irish."

Hanzo stared at Lena, earning another blush from the girl, and wondered if he could see the Irish in her. She certainly didn't have the accent and as far as he knew she never brought up her heritage at all.

"I see."

Lena nodded. "Me mum and dad were proper Irish, both from Tipperary! Me mom from the south, dad from the north."

"Were?"

Lena paused, looking uncomfortable and Hanzo felt a pit in his stomach form. "Ah, apologies, you do not need to explain further if you do not want to."

Lena shook her head. "No, it's fine, I just get a bit weird with this. Ah. Basically, they died during the Omnic uprising of Dublin. I don't really remember much about them, to be honest, I was only like three or something. I was moved to England shortly after and I was adopted by the Oxton family."

Hanzo nodded, completely understanding her situation. He didn't wish to give her consolation because it would have felt false, just some generic thing people doll out like an obligation. "I understand…"

Looking over at Genji, he seemed more absorbed into his treat than this conversation. Tentatively, Hanzo patted Genji on the head, earning a tiny giggle from him.

"You're a nice brother," Lena noted.

Hanzo scoffed bitterly. "I was not there when he needed me the most." Turning to Lena, his eyes were hard and cold. "I… hurt him. That is not what a brother does."

Lena's smile melted into a frown and she considered her next words. "I hurt my sister a long time ago. I was dumb and made mistakes that would have cost my sister her life. But it didn't. She survived, she didn't get hurt."

Lena took Hanzo's hand and squeezed it. "You don't have to be perfect, love, you just have to be you and learn. That's all my sister wants, that's all Genji wants. Accept your mistakes and learn from them."

Hanzo looked into Lena's brown eyes. So earnest and pure, it was hard to believe she was coping with all of this. Hanzo wondered how much of this was true and how much was just his imagination. "I never thanked you, Lena."

"For what?"

"Finding Genji."

Lena giggled. "It was easy, he was sitting over there, crying for his big brother."

Hanzo shook his head. "No. I meant in Hanamura. After I had… hurt him, you found him, amidst the ice and snow and saved him. I never thanked you for that."

Lena scratched the back of her head, her ears pink with embarrassment. "No problem, love. You know… he misses you, right?"

Hanzo looked at Genji, busily consuming his ice-cream with fervor, lost in his own little world. That was difficult to believe, that he would miss Hanzo, the man who murdered him. He remembered fighting him a second time at Hanamura, unaware of his true identity. No. Hanzo was aware, the way Genji moved was not something that could imitated by just anyone.

Hanzo didn't want to believe he was fighting Genji again. He wanted to believe it was some ghost, some apparition sent to haunt Hanzo for his crimes. When Genji opened his visor to reveal his scarred visage…

Lena squeezed his hand harder, breaking him out of his thoughts. "He does," she promised. "He just doesn't know how to say it."

"That I believe," Hanzo chuckled. "Genji always had a silver tongue but when it came to honesty he was, ah, rubbish at it."

Lena giggled. "Don't you think it's time to rest, Hanzo?"

"I am resting," Hanzo scoffed. "This little dream of mine is proof."

Lena shook her head. "You are sleeping, but you aren't resting."

"What is the difference?"

"I'll show you!"

Lena released Hanzo's hand, scooted closer to Hanzo and laid her head on his lap. Hanzo flinched at the proximity of her presence but she looked up at him, with those earnest eyes, and smiled. "This is how you rest, with people you care about."

To Hanzo's left, Genji yawned and placed his head on Hanzo's shoulder, falling asleep instantly. "People you care about," Hanzo repeated.

Lena nodded. "We're friends, ain't we?"

Slowly, Hanzo nodded. "Therefore, it's only natural we nap together!"

Hanzo wasn't sure if he could follow that train of thought but he conceded, just now realizing how exhausted his body was. His eyelids felt heavy as he leaned back on the bench, allowing himself to become more comfortable.

"Perhaps… for a little while, I can rest."

Lena didn't respond and she began to lightly snore as she slept.

Hanzo's eyes opened. The park was gone, replaced with an unfamiliar pristine ceiling and a room filled with lockers. It took Hanzo a moment to realize he was in the Overwatch locker room. His shoulders felt stiff and his neck ached and there was a strange weight on his body as if someone was sitting on him.

Looking to his left, he saw Genji in his robotic form leaned up against Hanzo's shoulder. His arms were crossed and although his mask covered his face, Hanzo could hear light snoring from him. Unsurprisingly, he looked down on his lap to see Lena curled up and sleeping, her chronal accelerator's light was dim and inert.

Sighing, Hanzo thought of the many ways he could chastise these two for not waking him and instead using him as an impromptu pillow. He thought of the colorful language he would use to berate these… children.

But his shoulders ached, his eyelids were heavy. First, a short nap is sorely needed. Hanzo closed his eyes and went back to his nice dream of little brothers and ice-cream.