#ANY SHIMADA FANS PLEASE MUTUAL ME RIGHT NOW

[rehdhoodie]

im so incredibly normal actually

[mistwolf-wanderer]

A Professional in a Team of Randos

Commission I did for @viceterships !

Genji Shimada contacts Hana Song to request that she join Overwatch. She turns him down, and tells him exactly why.

Genji Shimada sits across from Hana “D.Va” Song. Canned coffee and instant ramen sit on the table before him, neither impressive nor repulsive, staring him down with as much intensity as Hana’s stare. He carefully reaches over and takes the ramen and chopsticks in his hand and peels back the lid before stirring the contents around. He sniffs.

“Spicy flavor?” “I wanted to see you suffer.” “Thanks.”

He takes a long, careful sip of the broth, coughs, and nods before opening the coffee and taking a deep swig.

“I am suffering,” he remarks. “So you win.” “Always play to win,” Hana sighs, rolling her eyes.  “So why are you here, unannounced, shoving dusty-ass Overwatch flyers in my face?”  Genji swallows and takes a second to compose himself. She waits, crossing her arms.

“We have thirty minutes until my stream starts and I kick you out,” she comments. “I hope you’re aware.”

He nods.  “Of course. Friends though we are, I wouldn’t have you missing your stream for me.”

“Who said we’re friends?”

“I assumed we were, after all those games we played together, and the races we’ve had.”

“We are,” she grins.  “So continue.”  

Genji sets down his coffee and bows his head respectfully.  Hana snorts.

“I’ve come to ask you to join overwatch as D.Va.”

Hana looks at Genji for a beat, face neutral. She taps her chin.

“Nah.”

“‘Nah’?”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

Genji rubs his face.  “Are you bound by contract or something? I would think you of all people would jump at the challenge of saving the world from devastation.”

Hana clicks her tongue.  “It’s not an issue of ‘can’t’ or ‘not allowed,’ it’s an issue of ‘won’t’ and ‘this is stupid’.” She sits back. “Overwatch was disbanded―end of story. So why bring it back?”

“I told you, we believe the world needs heroes―”

“―And we are those heroes. But has it ever occurred to you that even all you guys put together won’t be enough?”

Genji looks at her quietly, curiously.  He waits for her to go on. Hana gestures to her symbol―the bunny that marks her mech as her own.

“The reason you’re here is for that, not me.” She gives him a once over. “You have master tacticians and military leaders at your back. So, check and check, you already have what Hana Song can give.” She sits back. “You need D.Va, and you need my MEKA. The strength. The armor. The bullets. But did you ever think to wonder where it comes from?”

Genji nods.  “MEKA is a branch of the Korean military, which uses human pilots instead of drones to fight hostile omnics.”

“Right,” Hana says.  “But MEKA doesn’t come from the military alone, specifically because of the people involved.”  She smiles and points to Genji. “You’re a gamer, Genji. You’re not pro, but I’m sure you’ve played enough competitive games to know what I mean when I say we’re not always exactly…”

“―Team players,” he finishes.

“A good shotcaller can bring a team together,” she says, bringing her fingers into a mesh, “but when you’re all pros, sometimes you all think you’re a shotcaller, and the team falls apart.”  She lets her hands fall back to the table, undone.  “We customize our MEKA with sponsorship money, not military funds. We’re barely qualified to be called military, if you look at the way we operate. No uniform, no ranks, no true military training.”  She points to the Overwatch flyer.  “You’ll be like us at level one.”

“A team of heroes from across the world have the diversity we need to tackle every obstacle, but…”

“You know they’ll be relatively untrained, with little to no chemistry at the first go, and the civilian casualties and environmental destruction will cost you millions when―not if―you get sued.”

Genji sits back, uncrossing his legs and leaning back and closing his eyes.

He can see in his mind’s eye a future where everyone is together.  The world’s best assembled before him.

And they are nothing like the team he knew years ago.

Half are gone, the other half is made of new recruits.  The one with the most military experience is Fareeha Amari, Ana Amari’s only daughter, and he can see the shadow cast behind her. Not nearly as tall as her mother’s.

Angela Ziegler has no incentive to return―not after what happened in Switzerland.

Reinhardt will answer the call, but the man is over sixty now, with a creaking back and old suit of armor.

Reyes and Morrison are dead, or they should be. But of course, Genji should be too.

He blinks.  The list of names goes on and on.  For a second, he thinks of Hanzo and sighs.  He rubs his eyes.  “So what do you propose we do, Ms. Song?”

Hana grimaces.  “Ew, don’t call me that, it makes me sound old.”

“You are nineteen.”

“And we’ve yet to move, as a society, from the idea that women should be married by 25. So don’t call me that.” She makes a face. “Or else I’ll start calling you Mr. Shimada.  Or maybe Shimada-sama?”

Genji grins and laughs lightly, putting a hand on his face. “Please, Hana, never call me that again.”

“Contract signed and honored, pal.” She grins.  It fades quickly.  She leans back on her hands and looks to the side, out the window to the city lights outside.

“That was quite the face journey you went on,” she comments.

“I was just thinking about how you’re right.”

“About?”

“Overwatch being a bad idea.”

“I don’t think that making a group of heroes to address worldwide pain is bad, but we aren’t the Justice League. And they had their fair share of legal issues for obvious reasons.”

Genji sighs again.  “So what do you propose instead? The wheels are in motion, and I can’t just tell them to shut down alone.”

“I feel like the answer’s obvious.”

Genji cocks his head at her.  “How so?”

“MEKA only works because of three things, and it’s the same reason all pro-gaming teams do well.”  She counts off on her fingers.  “Team synergy, public support, and sponsorships.  Money.”  She looks at her symbol again.  “This icon is mine, not the military’s. And my fans recognize me for it. They don’t recognize me because I’m in MEKA, they recognize MEKA because I’m in it.”

Genji nods slowly.  “Overwatch was shut down for a reason,” he says, contemplative.  “I may have been one of those reasons, at some point.” He sits back up and looks at his hands.  “With these hands, I…” He sighs. “Let’s say I was angry back then. Overwatch gave me an outlet,” he closes his hands, “but it wasn’t what I needed.”

“Not what the public needed either, I assume.” She watches him think and crosses her arms.  “And now that Overwatch is disbanded, you’re fundsless.”

“Totally broke,” Genji agrees.  “And I’m dead to the world, so I’m not getting any of my inheritance.” They share a grim chuckle that falls swiftly into silence.

“I don’t have a solution,” Hana professes.  “Your name is wrecked. Brand name, I mean, and that’s what you’re selling.” She sighs. “Maybe for some of the members, it would be enough to call them back just to relive the glory days. But the public will see those faces and remember what happened. Meanwhile, your newbies will be disorganized and without a real common goal.”

“Isn’t saving the world a common goal?”

“Isn’t it always? Everyone wants to rule the world or save it―and those things aren’t mutually exclusive.”  She sighs.  “You see it, right? The issues an org like this has?”

“I do,” Genji says.  He gets up and stretches, servos whirring as he does.  He sighs.  “And here’s what I want to propose to you.”

He takes a second to breathe.  “Overwatch may not be able to offer you anything. Perhaps joining us would only bring you down.”  He looks back down at her, then bows at the waist. “But we need you. You said it yourself―you have the fans, the sponsors, and you know how to make a team work.  You have the platform that could make us work.” He stands up straight and smiles at her, hesitant and sincere.  “We may not know everyone who needs saving, or have the best history, or even have a lot of money, but I know that we could become better.  And I think you could help.”

Hana blinks at him slowly.  “That’s a lot of smooth talking,” she says slowly.  “Turning all my points on me like that and stroking my ego...you’re a real piece of work.”  She smiles.  She gets up and hands him his coffee and ramen, both gone cold.

“We’re friends,” she says.  “So for you? Maybe I’ll think about chasing something totally stupid, like an extralegal superpower organization with a shit ton of guns.”  She pats his back, then turns him around.  “But for now, I need you outta here.  I have a stream to do, and you’re in the way.”

Genji grins and puts his mask back on his face before saluting and climbing out her window.  She leans out the window and shakes a fist at him.  “Use the door next time!”  She sighs and stretches before settling before her computer and setting up her stream.

She settles into her persona as D.Va and begins her stream, interacting with the fans casually while she gets into the flow of the game.  On a whim, she glances back to look at the flyer Genji left on her desk.

Ana Amari’s valiant image stands clear on its faded-print surface.  She returns to the game, thoughtful.

“So what do you guys think about Overwatch?”