I don't own Overwatch.

1. Sucker Punch

As her opponent admitted defeat with a 'gg', Hana giggled into her microphone. Another match had been won for the world's best StarCraft player, the game having been completed in just under three minutes - the fastest time of the current night's stream. She wished she could say the game was a challenge, but when her competitor opened with a three pylon start which didn't even block their chokes, the game was on the opposite spectrum of difficult. Nevertheless, Hana had to sound adorable for her stream.

"Oof, that was a tough one!" she exclaimed into her microphone, her voice intonated into that of South Korea's favorite gamer. "Let's hope for the next one we get someone easier!"

As always, the stream's chat went wild whenever Hana spoke. They couldn't get enough of her voice. They all loved the cute, innocent, bubbly persona. Typical. It was too easy to get followers, subscribers, and donators by just simply putting up feminine sounds every now and then. When other popular streamers had to resort to being overly-loud and comedic or expose an unnecessary amount of cleavage to garner their supporters, all Hana had to do was play and speak. Combined with the mystery surrounding her real-life identity, this only attracted more fans and attention. Her chat would always say the same things.

'We love you, D•Va!'

'When's facecam!? Kappa.'

'D•Va, be my gf, please!'

'Fucking degenerates,' was all Hana could think.

She popped open another can of her favorite soda as she winced whilst reading the cringe of her chat. She hated her followers. She hated her supporters. She felt that most of them, if not all, were just filthy teenage boys or men who bordered on pedophilia, drooling over the sounds of a teenage schoolgirl. She swore the average IQ of her chat must've been in the double-digits. Their stupidity, however, was an advantage as they often donated without second thought. This had helped pay for Hana's living expenses, schooling and then some. The pay had reached a six-figure range that Hana couldn't ignore. Heck, she considered dropping out of school to stream full-time.

However, she knew her idol status wouldn't last forever.

Everything had a finite lifespan.

Nothing lasted forever.

Living alone for the past few years hadn't been easy for Hana. There had been several times where her rent would be overdue, or she had the threat of school expulsion looming over her. Food and clothes used to be hard to come by as she made next to nothing when she first started streaming. Apparently, people didn't enjoy streamers who were gloomy, snarky and had a less-than friendly demeanour. There were shivering winter nights and boiling hot summers without clothes or air-conditioning. Her only companion was her computer to which she poured countless hours into.

Thousands of other teenagers from across the country were experiencing a similar situation.

Everyone had laughed at the notion of an omnic uprising. It wasn't possible. Each and every piece of machinery, and this included Hana's toaster for god's sake, was hardwired to follow Asimov's three laws of robotics. They couldn't have murdered that aristocratic family in Dresden, Germany. It was the first case of artificial intelligence inflicting harm on humans with purpose and intent. A couple months later, an arts teacher was found dead in Samara, Russia, a knife having been plunged into her sternum. Her assistant tech-bot's video feed was all the evidence police had needed to show who - or more accurately, 'what' - had committed the murder. Cases like these had started emerging from around the globe. Panic spread like wildfire throughout the populace. A dozen deaths later, it was clear that there was something wrong with the omnics. They weren't conforming to the laws.

It was if they had developed minds of their own.

As she sipped on her beverage, Hana glanced at the clock across her dimly-lit desk.

7:08 a.m.

…

Shit.

Almost falling out of her chair, Hana choked on her soda, coughing up spurts of the fizzy drink across her keyboard. It was a good thing she had muted her microphone in time, sparing her chat from her little episode. She wouldn't be able to handle another bout of emojis right now. As she regained her composure, she unmuted the mic which strung from her headset.

"Everyone, I'm going to have to end it here tonight!" she said, doing her best to feign disappointment. "Hope you've all had a good time - love, D•Va!"

She ignored the countless strings of sad emojis and weird-looking, green frogs in her chat as she closed the stream off, finally putting an end to the long night. Slipping off her headset, Hana reclined into her chair, dropping her headset onto the musty carpet with a soft thump. She used the back of her hands to rub her eyes, the pair of them having been sore from staring at a monitor for hours on end. Her fingers were rigid and her wrists ached from all the typing and mouse action she'd done.

The drawbacks of having an enormous APM, she supposed.

She had to stop doing these. Putting on an all-night stream was one thing, but to do it when the very next day she had to attend school was just plain idiotic. She'd already gotten into trouble for coming late to class. Staying back to clean chalkboards the size of billboards wasn't to her particular liking and especially now since omnic tech was banned from circulation. She used to be able to print lines on the blackboard with a simple press of a button.

Powering off her computer, Hana slumped into the bed beside her desk. Lazily, she kicked off her socks and shorts, flinging them to the other side of the bed before pulling the covers over herself and the loose t-shirt she wore. The sheets were cold. She curled up, ignoring the ice-like covers and the breeze that flew through her window.

Just a few minutes of sleep… that's all I need.

… Won't take long.

Light seeped into Hana's eyes as they fluttered open. Slowly, she rolled her head from its face-down position to her side, hoping to catch a glimpse of what the time was. As her vision unblurred, however, Hana's eyes shot open. Instead of seeing the edges of her computer's desk, she stared directly into the dark eyes of one of her classmates.

Ricky. The short-haired, ginger prick had a smile plastered across his face.

What the fuck? How'd he...

"Miss Song," a stern voice echoed in Hana's head.

Hana faced forward, her senses finally coming back to her as she realized where she was. She wasn't in her room. She was in class. Thirty-minutes late, to nobody's surprise. Unfortunately for Hana, the snooze button wasn't something that paused time and it had only delayed her trip to school. Lazily, she looked around the classroom. It seemed everyone was in their desks, their eyes all trained on the same spot in the room...

… looking at Hana.

"I say again, Miss Song," the voice repeated.

Picking her head off the cold wooden desk, Hana's brunette hair drooped over her eyelids. She tilted her head to the side, blowing a few strands away from her face as she stared her teacher down.

"What?" she said with an annoyed tone.

Her teacher was a burly man in his fifties. His grayish hair was balding already, and his trunk was round and stout. He wore a suit that had faded from its black sheen to an old charcoal since Hana had first met Mr. Halfred almost four years ago now. Looking back at the man, his cross expression definitely meant he wasn't pleased that she was snoozing through his class.

"Would you care to enlighten us with the answer?" Mr. Halfred asked, his arms folded across his chest.

Shifting her gaze, Hana could still see the entire class was staring at her. They were obviously expecting an answer to some question unbeknownst to her.

… the fuck do you all want from me?

"Forty-six," Hana said with a monotone, dropping her head back down onto the table.

A few giggles reverberated throughout the classroom as Mr. Halfred audibly huffed. Ricky's shit-eating grin widened even further as the little bastard snickered.

"No, Miss Song. The current forces assisting in the development of urban housing for those affected by the Omnic Crisis is not 'forty-six'," Halfred said with distaste. With his arms behind his back, he turned to face the rest of the classroom. "Would anyone care to provide the correct answer?"

There was silence for a few moments. Just as Hana was about to mutter something about what a stupid topic they were learning about, she spotted out of the corner of her eye that someone had raised their hand.

"Ahh, Miss Ziegler. Please, do enlighten us," Mr. Halfred spoke, his tone shifted to that of revered respect.

The sound of Angela Ziegler's name caused Hana to straighten. She squinted her eyes, spying that the prissy blonde had stood up from her desk.

"Vishkar Corporation, sir. Currently, they are contracted with developing large tracts in Rio de Janeiro with hard-light technology following recent omnic assaults," Angela said, using that all-knowing brain of hers.

"Very good, Miss Ziegler!" Mr. Halfred exclaimed. Angela sat back down as Mr. Halfred turned back to Hana - who was just wearing a face of pure boredom. "You'd do much to pay attention in class and learn from exemplary students such as Miss Ziegler."

Upon hearing his words, Hana's eyes darted to Angela's. The blonde shifted uncomfortably in her seat, most likely due to the hard, dagger-like grimace she was getting.

Angela Ziegler.

If you walked around the school halls asking who the school's poster child was, their responses would all be the same.

Angela motherfuckin' Ziegler.

A perfect academic record, president of the student council, and the wanted prize for every student of the school with a shaft between their legs. She had transferred over from some rich school in Zürich a couple of years ago, never telling anyone why. Just a couple weeks ago there was some big fuss about the fact that Angela was chosen to attend Overwatch's Academy for the Gifted and Talented - a scholarship to their internationally-accredited nuclear medicine program which only took in one student per year. There was news about it all over town with news stations bringing reporters out to interview the girl along with social media blowing the whole thing out of proportion. On that night, Hana had to mute her stream's chat from all the spam about it. All her libido-driven viewers must've seen Angela's face on the news.

So she got accepted into some school. Who gives a flying fuck?

Looking into the girl's sea-blue eyes, Hana couldn't spot a single flaw about her. She was a genius, sociable, and god damn pretty - even Hana had to admit that.

You think you're so perfect…

It disgusted Hana.

Nobody was perfect.

Nobody.

Everyone had their own blemishes and deficiencies. Some were just better at hiding it than others.

The ringing of the class bell broke Hana's thoughts. Her head pulsed with a throbbing headache as she came to grips with how little sleep she'd actually received. Stumbling out of her seat, she made her way towards the classroom's exit.

"All right, class," Mr. Halfred said, waving his hand in dismissal. "Remember to go over next week's nanobiology chapters, and don't forget to sign-up for next week's field trip. I won't have any of you skipping it because there's a large amount of examinable material over Nepal's history."

The whole class groaned as they got out of their seats, trudging their way towards the exit. Pulling her light pink hoodie over her head, Hana followed her classmates. As she passed Mr. Halfred's desk, she shared a passing glance with Angela, the latter's expression was neutral and completely unreadable.

'What are you looking at?' was what Hana wanted to say. Before she could say anything, however, the blonde had swiftly turned and walked out with her little entourage of followers trailing behind.

Sheeple. The whole lot of them...

Ricky sneered at Hana, bringing two fingers up to his mouth and stuck his tongue out between them before he left the room. Hana twisted her face in disgust. She was tempted to just clip the side of the kid's jaw just for the hell of it. Heck, she wouldn't mind a couple days of suspension in exchange for busting Ricky's face in. A tempting proposition... but if she were to miss any more classes, chances were her grades would drop low enough to warrant another suspension - or an expulsion.

"Miss Song."

Mr. Halfred's voice brought Hana's footsteps to a halt. She rolled her eyes before turning to face the brute of a man.

"May I have a word with you?" he asked.

Looking behind, Hana saw all her classmates had left. "Do I have a choice?" she scoffed, raising her hands in the air.

"You do, but I wish to speak about something that concerns your future," Mr. Halfred said, taking a seat on his brown leather stool.

"My… future?" Hana asked, a brow quirked.

"Yes. You may not think it, but I am actually a teacher and give somewhat of a damn about all my pupils' education."

Mr. Halfred's mild cursing didn't surprise Hana one bit. She'd been lectured by the older man more than enough to know that he tended to converse more casually under a more classless atmosphere.

"The principal and I have been discussing some things… and we've noticed your deterioration as of late."

"Deterioration? What the… what the hell are you on about?"

"You've been coming late to class much too often, and your grades for every class have stooped below the acceptable average. Not to mention, don't think I don't notice how tired you are all the time," Mr. Halfred sighed. He loosened his shoulders and brought his tone down to almost a whisper. "At this rate, we're unsure if you'll even be able to graduate."

The air in Hana's chest died. She clenched her fists as an anger rose within her. An anger directed not at Mr. Halfred nor the principal, but at herself. She knew it was coming. She knew funneling countless hours into her digital persona would catch up with her sooner or later. It was just that she hoped it wouldn't happen in her last semester of high school when her whole future rested on a series of exams.

"Are you saying I'll have to repeat a year?" Hana said quietly.

"Like I said, at this rate, yes. That's what you're going to have to do." Picking his chin up and adjusting his classes, Mr. Halfred gave a solemn smile. "But, it's still feasible for you to complete your studies this year."

Her breath returned to her as Hana breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, because I'm not staying in this hellhole another year. What do I have to do?"

Ignoring the name she'd given to Salesian Academy, Mr. Halfred continued on. "It's simple to be quite honest. You just have to pledge your full support into what I have in mind. What do you say? Are you willing to do what it takes to graduate?"

What are you thinking you old codger…

"Depends," Hana said. "If you expect me to stay back and do a bunch of extra credit work every day, however, I'd rather repeat the year."

Mr. Halfred let out a chuckle. "No, no. Believe me when I say I wouldn't enjoy that particular venture either. I have something else in mind. Something more professional."

"What?"

The man cleared his throat. "As you may know, there are some students in the cohort that are performing extremely well. Some are doing so well that they already understand material that I haven't even begun to teach. That's why some of these people have begun to help other students after class, and outside of school."

Oh no. I think I know where this is going.

"If you'd be willing," Mr. Halfred continued, "There's someone like that in our class that may be able to—"

"Nope," Hana said. She did a pirouette and headed straight to the open classroom door. She knew exactly who Mr. Halfred was going to suggest.

"Wait, Miss Song, I haven't even-"

"I know who and what you're going to suggest," she said without stopping in her tracks. "If you think I'm going to be her student… you can shove those chalk sticks right up your-"

"Please understand, Miss Song. There're only a few months before the final exa—"

Before Mr. Halfred could finish, however, Hana had already slammed the door behind her. The loud cracking sound the door made filled the hallway and got a few looks from students walking to their next class. She stood idly outside the classroom door as she tried to process what Mr. Halfred was about to suggest.

There was no way.

No way was she going to be stuck with that prudish, strait-laced blonde just so Hana could pass a few classes. They'd already had their grievances in the past. She recalled last week when the pair were put together for chemistry by Mr. Halfred - and now Hana had an idea why - and it didn't bode well. Hana didn't say a word whilst Angela worked. Angela did say the odd sentence and asked the occasional question. Of course, Hana didn't reply. Internally, she was planning what league she would participate in for that night's stream. Calculating titration ratios and paying attention to a certain blonde were the least of her priorities.

A puff of air left Hana's nose. She twisted on her feet as she walked down the corridor, putting the conversation with Mr. Halfred out of her mind.

There was a crisp breeze blowing when Hana laid down on the grass. The gentle prickling of green blades against Hana's skin relaxed her. Few people knew of the patch of lawn behind the main library, and few dared to walk across it when Hana occupied the small hill under the campus' cherry blossom tree. The shade brought much-needed rest to Hana's eyes as she closed them, hoping to recuperate the sleep she had surrendered last night. If she had to miss physics class in order to catch a little shut-eye, then she would.

Her nap was short-lived, however, when she heard a trio of footsteps coming towards her. 'Fuck, what does it take to get some peace?' Hana thought. She hated when people didn't respect the fact that this was her area. The sound of grass crunching and creasing beneath heavy footfalls, however, didn't stop. It grew in volume and stopped only when they were a few inches from Hana's head. She felt a shadow loom over her, awaiting some sort of response from her.

Who the fuck?

Opening her eyes, Hana was met with Ricky's freckle-ridden face, only inches away from her own.

Immediately, she brought her hands to her sides to push herself away from the sordid boy, her feet kicking up the freshly-cut grass in the process. She glared at the boy who was still wearing the grin from class only hours before. He was accompanied by two of his friends, both equally as sleazy as their leader.

"What the hell do you want?" Hana asked, clearly pissed off.

Looking to his companions, Ricky let out a sneer. "Just out for a walk, sweetie. It just so happened that we bumped into you back here."

"Yeah, right. You're probably looking for another poor girl to prey on, you sack of shit," Hana said, standing up.

When she stood face-to-face with Ricky, Hana realized just how much shorter she was compared to the boy - plus, she was standing on an incline. He must've been a full head-length taller and had twice that of Hana's mass.

"Woah, easy there. That's not how people talk to their future boyfriend."

"Boyfriend!?" Hana exclaimed, almost choking on the bitterness of the word. "Fuck off. You're just a pervert creep. Go bark up another tree like a good dog now, would you?"

Ricky's companions let loose a small laugh. Their leader, however, was far from amused. "Hey, at least I've got a dog and my parents at home. What do you go home to? Oh yeah, that's right. Nothing - because your dumb parents are off fighting toasters and rice cookers. Hell, from the news, I bet they're already dea-"

Ricky wasn't able to finish his sentence as Hana's fist hooked the side of his mouth. The force of the blow threw him off balance, bringing him down to a knee as both his friends looked on, each open-mouthed with shock.

Her knuckles ached from the amount of effort she had put into the swing as Hana retracted her arm. Her fingers spasmed, eager for a follow-up to their initial strike. Her breath was heavy, rapid and brimming with wrath. The mention of her mother and father had tipped her over the edge, unable to hold back from forcibly shutting Ricky up.

Getting up slowly, Ricky brought a hand to his mouth, rubbing where he had just been struck. He turned his head to spit onto the grass before looking Hana in the eyes. The haughtiness within them had disappeared.

"How did that feel?" Hana asked, hoping to provoke a response. "Bet that hurt, you little—"

Hana saw it coming, but it still caught her off guard. Ricky's fist cut through the air and made contact with Hana's jaw with the force of a rogue freight train. Her breath left her instantly as she doubled over, knees buckling from the blow. Her ears rung as it sounded as if thunder had struck the ground only a few feet away from her. The feeling of her legs eluded Hana as she brought a hand to her lips. Bringing it in front of her face, she felt the warm trickle of blood dripping down her fingertips. Ricky was twice her size and double her weight. It was no surprise his blow was more devastating than Hana's.

"Yeah, it felt pretty good," Ricky said with a smug grin. "How was yours?"

Getting back on her feet, Hana cocked her arm back, milliseconds away from bringing another fist down on the boy in front of her. However, she stopped when a voice rose up from behind her.

"Stop!" it yelled. It was feminine.

Turning around, Hana went wide-eyed with who she saw.

Angela Ziegler. She walked over to the commotion, a frown written across her face. "Stop. Continuing this fight won't solve anything."

Duh - I know it won't. I just want an excuse to punch this kid's face.

Hana's arm was still raised, despite Angela's plea. It was only when Angela's face turned from that of disappointment to worry did something turn over in Hana. Angela's eyes were pleading with her. Sighing, Hana put her arm down to her side, her hand still dripping with her blood, staining the grassy knoll a dark red hue.

"Ricky Astwell. If you don't wish for your mother to hear about this incident, then I suggest you leave," Angela said. Her voice was full of authority. Angela was well-known even throughout the adult community. Her age was no barrier to her respected figure.

Not budging from his place, Ricky wanted to retort. His friends, however, were shuffling away awkwardly, forcing Ricky to follow. He shared one last look with Hana that just spat 'this isn't over'.

As Hana watched the trio leave, the adrenaline that dulled the pain of Ricky's punch had subsided. Hana winced, feeling as if her lip was being stung with a million needles as she brought her hand up to her mouth again. As she gently touched her cut skin, another arm had reached out and grabbed hers.

"Here, let me see that," Angela said, pulling Hana's hand away from her mouth. Angela examined Hana with a keen eye, her gaze on Hana's mouth and looking to avoid any eye contact whatsoever. Angela wrapped her hand in her white school sleeve, bringing it to Hana's lip for a closer look. Red soaked into the sleeve's linen material as Hana winced at the touch. "It's a superficial cut - it'll heal but you'll need ointment," Angela said after a while. "Are you okay?"

The girl's question caught Hana by surprise. She had done nothing but pay no attention to Angela since she'd transferred here. Yet, here she was - being treated by the person she'd never uttered a word to.

"I'm fine," Hana said. Her voice was weak and higher-pitched than usual as her breath began to slowly return.

In actuality, she wasn't fine. Her mouth stung. It hurt. But she wouldn't say it. She wouldn't admit her weakness in front of Angela. She didn't know why, but she just couldn't. Her ego wouldn't allow it. Pushing Angela's arm away from her, Hana started walking back to the main campus. She hadn't noticed, but Angela's eyes had gone wide with realization.

"That voice…" Angela said in a low voice.

Horror gripped Hana as she realized what she had just said.

She'd spoken her first words to this girl…

… and she'd done it in her persona's voice.

Panic took hold as Hana's slow strides had changed into a jog. She had to get away from this girl as fast as she could.

"Wait!" Angela called. "You still need treatment, the medical wing is that way!"

Hana didn't bother to turn around. She had to get away from that pretty, prissy, prim blonde as fast as she could - and it wasn't because she'd been shown a kindness that she had long since forgotten the feeling of, but because she didn't want to stay and find out; find out if she had slipped up.

With an overwhelming curiosity, Hana did steal a glance behind her once as she ran ahead. All she saw was Angela, standing under the shade of the cherry blossom, her eyes filled with something that only made Hana pick up her pace.

A/N: So this is an Overwatch fic that's basically going to be an origins story for D•Va that's set in a divergent AU to the canon.

Cover by theangrydva