Chapter Text
The first weeks of Nepal’s spring are as finicky and indecisive as a young child, it’s mood swings unpredictable: sunshine, snow, rain - all alternating by the hour. For now, the morning sun creeps its way through the sky without obstruction. Genji watches the yellow orb inch above the horizon and soak the land in pink and orange. He’s transfixed - hot breath fogging the air as it exits his lungs.
It’s the distant laughter of children that finally rouses him from his stupor.
Diving into his rucksack, he produces a mask to cover the webbing of scar tissue that dominates the lower half of his face. Unnatural green eyes scan the area, wary, before he ascends up a tall, thick pine. With inhuman speed, he climbs nearly twenty feet and peers down at the village below.
From his shadowed perch, Genji watches Suravasa slowly wake and come to life. Children burst from their homes, meet each other on the main road, and travel in clusters to the monastery for their morning lessons. Women emerge soon after with baskets of dirty laundry and warm smiles directed at one another. A faint melody reaches Genji’s ears as one of the women begins to sing as she strings garments onto a line.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Genji had grown a special fondness for the village in the weeks he’d spent living in its shadow. It left a tender mark on his heart knowing the time to move on was fast-approaching. He’d leave the villager’s lives silently, and they would be unaware of his absence - just as they were now unaware of his occupance.
The thought has him sighing softly.
It doesn't matter.
He didn’t belong here - didn’t belong anywhere. To his clansmen he was dead. To his brother he was an exile, shown mercy where he should have been shown the sharp edge of fangs. And to humanity?
Well, he was an abomination. A wretched, in-between creature from a bloodline abandoned by God and rejected by hell.
---
Though only a tiny, silver scratch in the surface of the sky, the moon suffices to light Genji’s path as he creeps through long shadows.
‘One final goodbye,’ he had promised himself. A chance to engrave the memory of this place into his mind before he could turn his back to it forever.
He doubted he would live to return.
The cold claws its way through his clothing and nips at his flesh, making him shiver and envy the villagers tucked away in their warm beds. A snowflake drifts down to kiss his cheek before it melts on his skin and the moisture is ripped away by the angry wind, stinging his tender flesh.
Genji keeps his sights on the monastery, which seemed to glow almost ethereally white even in the pitch darkness.
Yellow tapestries flap wildly, blowing inward as if to invite the man inside. With careful steps, Genji approaches those magical, towering walls. He takes a breath to steel himself - this was the closest he’d ever ventured to the temple. Still, his desire to see the inside overpowers his anxiety. Feeling like an invader, he skulks past the massive statues that guard the main walkway and then dives into the monastery’s shelter.
The chamber he finds himself in is almost cavernous, and his footsteps, though tread lightly, echo. In the dark, Genji can’t quite see the ceiling. Wonderstruck, he tiptoes into a broad corridor, admiring the intricate carvings that adorned nearly every surface. Man, beast, omnic - stories of every walk of life are carved into pristine marble.
He enters a room where the ceiling is lower, and he gapes at the sight of a skylight that frames the crisp moon and stars. Painted glass ornaments the edges of the massive window, each pane a colorful compliment to the black world outside.
Taken by some fanciful compulsion, the vagrant lies down, sprawling across the cold stone, and gazes skyward. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of emotion - a whimsy that allowed him to slow down and admire the beauty before him. True to his dragon nature, he’s struck with a profound desire to pluck the moon and stars and stash them away. He reaches out a scarred hand as if to grasp at the celestial bodies, imagining he could pull them down and add them to his collection.
The sound of laughter startles him. Genji sits up abruptly, only to realize it’s his own chuckle that’s bouncing off the walls. He nervously scans his surroundings and lifts his mask to sniff the air.
“What is it you’ve found so funny?”
The sound of another’s voice nearly jolts the man out of his skin, and he scrambles to his feet. “Kuso,” he hisses, cursing himself for having made too much noise.
He can’t yet see the source of the inquiry, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t see him. Reeling, he leaps for the nearest pillar and scurries up it like the panicked lizard he is. Only when he’s reached the rafters does he stop to peer down. Far below, nine glowing lights peer back.
Genji flinches as the omnic releases a chuckle of his own. “How amusing…”
Reaching for his shuriken, he keeps his glowering eyes on the figure.
“I can assure you that you will be met with no harm. Please come down - I’d like to hear what you thought was so funny,” the omnic’s synthesized voice pleads.
“It’s none of your business!” Genji spits back.
“Oh? I hadn’t supposed that a stranger creeping into the monastery at night might be none of my business…”
Annoyed, he growls, “Do not mock me, omnic.”
“What would it take for you to come down? A hot cup of tea, perhaps?”
At this, Genji snaps back with incredulence, “You think you can bribe me with tea?!”
“I thought it was at least worth the try,” the omnic’s words float in the air like an unassuming shrug.
This bastard thinks he’s real funny.
Wanting a better look at this wise-ass, Genji jumps to a lower beam, trying to gauge his unexpected company.
“Oh? Do you want the tea after all?” He sounds hopeful.
From his new position, Genji could more accurately assess the features of the omnic. Though made of well-crafted parts, the stranger appears fragile. He’s slender, and much of his wiring is exposed - it would be easy to cut.
How foolish.
You only made yourself that vulnerable if you were looking to die.
His eyes drift to the omnic’s robes, and he notes their similarity to the garbs of the Shambali.
Of course! He’s a monk .
I… probably should have realized that sooner.
Gathering himself, Genji springs from his perch and lands neatly in front of the omnic. “I am passing through. Do not speak of me to your order. You did not see me here.”
“Hmm…” the monk hums in response.
“I will take my leave now,” Genji sternly informs him, turning his feet toward where he had entered.
“You won’t stay for tea after all?”
“Hah!” Genji gives a forceful laugh. He’s equal parts amused and aggravated. Either way, this encounter would be memorable. “What’s your name?” he asks, needing to know to whom he owed the displeasure.
“I am Tekartha Zenyatta. It is a pleasure to meet you, though admittedly the circumstance is odd.” As he answers, his voice never strays from its calm, polite, infuriating , inflection. “And who, may I ask, are you?”
“You may not ask. I am no one to you,” is Genji’s terse reply.
“It is nice to meet you nonetheless, No One.”
His mouth opens to respond, then closes again. Was this monk sassing him?
An outcast dragon warrior being sassed by a monk of the Shambali - what a world to live in.
“What kind of tea do you take?” Zenyatta intones.
Yet again, Genji is baffled by his persistence. “Are you still trying to persuade me with a drink? I will not play your games, monk.”
“More for me, I suppose.” Zenyatta replies, unaffected.
Genji nearly demands to know if the robot could even drink, but clamps down on the words upon realizing this was another of the monk’s bizarre tactics.
“Good night.” He nods curtly before darting past the entrance and letting the darkness swallow his shadow.
“Good night!” Zenyatta calls after him.
---
The rising dawn brings with it the lingering bewilderment of his encounter with Zenyatta - the monk had managed to rile him, but he hadn’t felt any genuine anger. It was a bit unnerving how the omnic remained calm at all times, undeterred, and how he had pulled Genji into a conversation even when he hadn’t wanted to speak at all.
Guess I’m just that lonely.
He hadn’t breathed a word, or even let his presence be known, in weeks - not since the crowded street markets of Kathmandu, which he’d been eager to leave. The ever-swimming school of bodies and the ceaseless, rumbling noise of passerby suffocated him. As he’d pushed his way through a sea of people, he felt like he was drowning. Once, a lifetime ago, he would have delighted to get lost in the waves and the arms of foreign people, now such things made him want to scream and search for escape.
The freedom of the sky, however, was a luxury he couldn’t risk today - not with dark clouds looming on the horizon, threatening another blizzard. A cold-blooded, reptilian body would be harder to keep warm. He would have to wait out the snow.
With a slow, stretching yawn, he ducks back into his hideout and retreats to his nest of furs.
Hours later, some nagging sense at the back of Genji’s mind prods him into wakefulness. Outside, he could hear the wind howling and hurling fistfuls of snow against his shelter.
He lie still for several minutes, willing himself to go back to sleep, but the insistent nag that something was askew kept slumber from him.
Still laden with furs, Genji hobbles to the mouth of the cave and peers into the flurry.
Nothing.
‘ No, there is something ,’ the back of his mind insists.
In the distance, barely noticeable through the thick sheets of white, he notices a set of blue, glowing lights. Focusing harder, he watches them as they slowly move. A few seconds pass before the lights careen down toward what Genji can only assume is the ground and blink out.
After wrestling his hesitation, Genji plows his way toward where he’d seen the light source. As he approaches, he spots a crumpled, robed figure amidst the snow being rapidly coated in a layer of frost.
What the hell are you doing, monk?!
A more sickening thought pierces Genji’s mind.
Is he dead?
...Perhaps his censors powered down to conserve energy.
He crouches next to the omnic - hissing as his knees sink into the snow. He can’t hear any of Zenyatta’s internal systems at work above the roar of the wind. Genji squints through the veil in the direction the monk must have come from, and then forlornly back at his own shelter. With a resigned sigh, a servant to his own pity, he takes the limp, heavy body into his arms and hauls Zenyatta into the safety of the cave.
Once inside, Genji piles clothes, animal hides, and anything else vaguely resembling a blanket onto what he hopes is just an unconscious monk. No response or movement comes from the omnic. It was possible his internal censors had already frozen over - there was no telling how long he'd been out in the blizzard
His concern waxing, Genji begins pulling in pieces of brush from near the opening of his shelter and piles them. Task completed, he checks to make sure the monk is still out before he changes form.
Tough, leathery skin ripples and is replaced with tougher scales. His body stretches, muscles pulling into a long, serpentine anatomy.
A warmth begins to grow within him, flowing from his stomach to his chest. The sensation builds, growing hotter until it peaks, and Genji opens his maw to set the kindle ablaze.
Crouched to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling of the rock formation, the dragon nudges his charge closer to the fire, willing the omnic’s systems to thaw.
After several long, anxious minutes, a soft whirr is heard as Zenyatta’s body begins to come back online. Genji shifts back to his human form, loathing the painful contraction of muscles and ligaments, and watches the other closely, waiting for him to rouse.
It was nearly half an hour later that Genji hears a rustle come from underneath the towering mound of covers he had stacked on top of the omnic. The rustling grows more frantic, and a muffled voice cries out. “Hello? Hello? I think I am buried!”
With a smirk, Genji plunges his arms into the pile and pulls away the covers, revealing Zenyatta’s shining head.
Although he didn’t have a face to make the proper expression with, the omnic has an air of confusion before he seems to assess the situation. “Oh! Thank you! I am happy to see you, No One!”
Genji wastes no time in assailing the monk. “What the hell did you think you were doing out there in the storm?! Looking for death?!”
Zenyatta remains unfrazzled by his harsh tone. “Actually, I was looking for you. I did not know where you were taking residence, and I wanted to ascertain that you were safe in this weather."
“Your plan was to trudge out here and freeze to death, looking for a stranger?” Genji is incredulous.
“I did not say it was a good plan.”
The man shakes his head in disbelief. “When the storm passes, I will help you find your way back to your village. Until then…” he trails off.
“Stay here and do not cause you any more trouble?” Zenyatta suggests.
“Yes, exactly.”
There was a lapse of silence, but it didn’t last long - not with Zenyatta around. “Pardon my curiosity, but what is the reason for your stay here? You must know that the monastery welcomes all; there is no need to camp out in this harsh wilderness, No One.”
“My name is not No One,” Genji cuts in.
“Then what shall you have me call you?” comes the monk’s reply.
“Genji,” he finally relents. “Do not worry about my residence; I will not remain here much longer.”
“Oh?” Zenyatta intones, cocking his head inquisitively.
“Once the weather clears, I will continue my travels. I never intended to stay."
Genji’s mention of travel seems to pique Zenyatta’s interest. “To where does your travel lead?”
He blinks once, then shakes his head. “There is no destination.”
“Then you are a vagrant?”
With a shrug, Genji replies, “I suppose.”
He tried not to think too closely about it, but he admits 'vagrant' could be an accurate way to describe his lifestyle.
“It is a wondrous life - travelling, learning, experiencing.” There’s a hint of wistfulness in Zenyatta’s voice as he speaks. “I have a home here, among my brothers and sisters, but I still consider myself something of a vagrant, as well. Though, it has been many moons since I have been on the road; perhaps your presence here is a sign I should return to my wayfaring...”
“A sign from who?” Genji scoffs. “God?”
“From the universe itself, I suppose.”
“It’s no sign, monk - our paths crossing is coincidence.”
“What is life if not a series of coincidences, with one prompt leading to another?”
He stares at the omnic, brow furrowed, for a moment, before sighing. “Do what you will - it is no business of mine. Just try not to die.”
“Is it your business if I do?”
…
Considering he’d just saved the monk, he didn’t have a rebuttal prepared for that.
Hopefully his mask would hide-
Genji’s eyes widen in dawning horror.
My mask.
A sense of panic washes over him as he touches his digits to his face, fingertips ghosting over rough, scarred flesh instead of smooth silk.
He’s frozen, staring at Zenyatta, searching for a trace of emotion in the omnic’s immobile countenance.
Zenyatta’s sensors glow a harsh, unyielding blue, betraying nothing. After a moment, he tilts his head in a gesture of concern “...Is something wrong, Genji?”
His tongue is dry, and he has to swallow before he can attempt to speak. “I… you were not…” Genji touches his skin again, averting his eyes, “supposed to see this.”
There’s a moment of silence, and while Zenyatta cannot emote, Genji can feel his confusion hanging in the air. Suddenly, there’s a startling ‘clink!’ as the omnic claps his metal hands over his face-plate. “My apologies!”
What.
Jaw slack, mouth falling open, Genji gawps.
“It was rude of me to stare, forgive me.”
“You were staring ???” He hadn’t wanted his face to be so much as glimpsed at, but the revelation that his companion had been focused on it the entire time without his knowledge left him chagrined.
Zenyatta continues to speak through his hands, his synthesized voice slightly muffled behind layers of metal and rubber, “You are… very handsome, but that should not be an excuse. I am sorry.”
Handsome.
Handsome?!
It had to be a cruel joke. Surely no one, not even an omnic, could gaze upon his discolored flesh, crooked nose, and gnarled lips with appreciation.
But Zenyatta’s words sounded so sincere…
Pity.
It had to be pity.
Clenching his fist, and subsequently his jaw, Genji releases a long, slow breath until the tension leaves his body. He then uncurls his fingers and heaves himself off of the cave floor. His mask is found only a few feet away, and he ties it to conceal himself once more.
“You can look now.”
Slowly, Zenyatta lowers his hands.
“It would be wise of you to recharge - when the storm has passed, I will take you as far as the edge of the village.”
He nods, “I appreciate the help, greatly.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Genji warns.