When the Dragon Struck (A Hanzo X Reader Fanfic)

Part 4: When the Dragon Struck

Reader and Hanzo talk everything out. Enjoy loves, and don't forget to vote and leave a comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! :*

Peace!

You stared at the man before you: silent, blanched, and paralyzed by the unspeakable horrors that appeared before his eyes. He didn't even bother picking up his most valued weapon from the cold metal surface.

You never thought you'd see the day when Hanzo would show any signs of weakness, and now that he has, you wanted nothing more than to smite his demons and end his suffering.

There was something unnerving about the way he acted out of character. You were used to seeing him as being the tough, hardened warrior he showed himself to be on the battlefield. He looked the part of an heir to an organized crime syndicate, but you never realized he could play the role of a disturbed man harassed by immense turmoil brought upon by the events of an unfortunate past.

The marksman's mind lost all grasp on reality, and his body followed suit. Appearing almost besotted, he began rocking on his heels, his upper torso swaying back and forth as though he'd fall down at any time.

The unusual behavior distressed you, and acting on impulse, you pressed your clammy palms firmly against his taut chest to steady him in his hazy state. Afterwards, you carefully lead Hanzo onto a nearby bench, deactivated the combat simulator, and just watched as he tried pulling himself back together. You wanted to do something, but your senses were rendered immobile with disquiet.

"Hanzo, what's going on?" you asked, digging your fingers into the back of his hand. "Are you that sick? Do you want me to call Mercy?"

Taking into concern his sickly pallor, you softened your grip on his hands and gave out a weak sigh that was almost inaudible.

"Hanzo, what's really happening to you?" But the man only kept his amber orbs fixed on the metal floor between his feet.

When he still refused to answer, you lifted a hand to cup his face and gently swerved it so his sharp features met your softer ones. Your skin tingled where it touched the hispid tuft of black that was part of his beard, and without much thought, you ran your thumb over and over a certain patch of hair near the jawline--a perfect caress.

"I want you to know that no matter what, you can always tell me what's bothering you."

"(Y/N)," he sighed impatiently. "You wouldn't understand, and besides, it is out of your control."

"Then make me understand!" you begged. "I can't stand seeing you so tortured and afraid Hanzo. Don't think I don't notice the dark circles around your eyes--whatever you're hiding is clearly much more serious than what you want me to believe."

The marksman stared back at you, the dilemma visible in his quaking eyes. He even endeavored putting up another wall of resistance to counter your request, but in the end, he let his walls crumble down, and it was evident in the slumping of his broad shoulders.

"(Y/N)," he began roughly, his gravel-like voice rumbling in his chest. "About a year ago here, in the training room, I heard you asking Genji about his supposed demise."

It was your turn to look away. "I'm sorry. I was just really curious about him having an omnic body despite not being, well, an omnic."

"I heard how scared you were; your voice shook and I didn't even have to see your face to know that you've paled."

This time, you reddened in humiliation, and you found that you had nothing else to say. Nevertheless, you went ahead and gave it a try.

"I wasn't scared-"