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mahaliciously · 7 years

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Atlantis

Rejoice children, for I have finally contributed to the Overwatch fandom with something other than memes.

I’m also choosing to contribute under the flag of my favourite pairing, sadly a rare one, but it’s okay because content is made to be created and I just loved every second of writing this thing!!

It unexpectedly turned out much longer than the initial headcanon suggested, but it’s definitely for the best since it constituted a solid character study for me that’ll help me for my future writings :D

SPECIAL KUDOS TO THE ANON WHO ASKED ME AFTER THE ONESHOT HERE IT IS AND TO THE LOVELY @xallyxcatxs, @tart276 and @gngu FOR THEIR NEVERENDING SUPPORT AND KETTLE NOISES LMAO

burn in cybun hell

And of course, special thanks to @b3tar3ad3r for the beta :D I recommend going to them in case you need help!

IF YOU LIKED THE ONESHOT, DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT IT BY REBLOGGING IT OR BY CHECKING MY AO3, IT’S UP THERE AS WELL! O/

archiveofourown: click here!

Word count : 8915

She wouldn’t have been able to tell when her heart had started to ache at the thought of him, or when she’d started to miss her shots when she’d hear him laugh through the voice chat. Wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint the exact moment the stories he told her about his love conquests had started to sting, or when she’d stopped making fun of the girls he’d had wrapped around his fingers like rings.

‘yo d.va when u gonna invite genji and lucio again on one of ur streams??’

Hana Song briefly glanced at the Twitch chat before taking down an enemy to her left, swallowing a curse.

‘so trueeee,’ another message chanted. ‘genji was so cute i love his voice’

‘how about lucio? dat dude is a human puppy lmao’

‘rofl’

The chat box was hectic, messages piling up at an incredible speed, english and korean weaving all over the screen. It didn’t bother Hana who was used to the fraction of a second she had to keep up with the fleeting topics and requests. Her bubble gum popped as she eliminated another enemy with a headshot and she readjusted her camera.

“Aww look at this,” she chimed teasingly. “I used to like Lucio and Genji but it does seem like they’re causing my own fanbase to neglect me now.”

The chat exploded with new messages and she smiled for the camera. Inside, she was pretty much crumbling.

She had organised that last-minute stream in hopes to keep her mind off her budding crush and the existential crisis that had come along with it. Instead, her fans had been spamming her for more content with her friends, and by extension, with the one person she was trying to distract herself from.

She almost felt like sighing, though she knew the camera and the attentive eyes that were watching her wouldn’t miss it. She glanced again at the chat box.

‘just genji x d.va gameplay tbh he’s got some dope skills i want to see competition between them’

Her heart jolted in her chest and she missed. The split second was enough to take her down. The camera switched to the kill cam, a flashy crimson message announcing her death as she popped another gum bubble. She almost winced at the ridiculous come and go her character had made that caused its death killed. She’d hesitated.

It was over for her and she didn’t feel like spectating the rest of the game, so she reported her full attention to the chat. What was this ridiculous suggestion to stay in a room alone with Genji Shimada and play videogames until she died of a heart attack?

Impossible.

But it annoyed her more than it embarrassed her. Or maybe a bit of both.

Because she could have organised that a few weeks ago. She could have invited him over platonically, wrecked his ass and watched her entire fanbase cheer for her. Just like she would have invited Lucio today.

But now she couldn’t.

She wouldn’t have been able to tell when her behaviour had changed, but she could guess the trigger. Maybe that one drunk night they’d spent playing a certain dumb fps game was at cause. Maybe finding her intoxicated self on top of him was the reason she couldn’t stare at him anymore without thinking “I want to spend more time this close to him” and “He’s actually pretty cute”. Maybe that was karma getting back at her for all the girls she’d made fun of.

“Alright,” she announced to the camera, waving. “Sounds like that’s gonna be all for today! Stay cool buns, until next time... Love, D.va!”

She grinned, smile as practiced as it could be, fingers into her signature V right before she turned off her camera with her other hand. She only breathed then.

There was no way in hell she could allow herself to fall for the 24-year-old ninja.

Genji Shimada, playboy extraordinaire, was not the kind of guy she’d let herself be involved with romantically. He was one of her closest friends, too precious to lose over a crush, and her ego would never let her drop to the level of the many girls who pooled at his feet. They had a precise friendship that revolved around platonic, shameless flirting and the certainty that she was the girl he’d never have, he the guy who’d never pursue her. It was but a constant verbal sparring that rhythmed their every interaction. Sass against sass. The very origin of their friendship. Their daily dose of challenge.

Truth be told, he was a lot of great things. He was handsome, even with that ridiculous dyed hair of his, funny, a bit of an asshole but caring still, and he was amazing to hang out with. Along with Lucio, they consisted of a great trio.

Genji was the kind arrogant, Lucio the resident puppy, always happy and idealistic, supporting but probably with one of the greatest senses of humour she’d seen in years, and she was the diva, the princess. All three of them were pretty much a walking disaster. Their brains together only amounted to ridiculous ideas like using Lucio’s speed boost to race on a frozen lake and crash into the snow at the speed of fast, or making fidget spinners out of Genji’s shuriken. They’d gotten a bunch of bruises, but a lot of outweighing laughs and she cherished those two idiots more than she’d care to admit.

Becoming close friends with Genji irremediably led to discover that beyond the playboy reputation and the biting sarcasm, he was a loyal friend. He was boastful, barely ever serious. He was terribly friendly, making everyone at ease in matters of seconds, breaking down fights with a couple of jokes any chance he got. She suspected that was a safe reason that led the girls to run to him in bunches. He was quite like the sun. Summer-like. That, and there was his catastrophic flirting.

He was smooth, she’d concede. But ask her secondhand observer side and she could think of a bunch of hilarious pearls she’d teased him with over the years.

But he wasn’t a sun. Or maybe his rays shone so bright they blinded people and kept them from seeing the deep cracks he bore. Just like any human being. She knew that sometimes he liked to sit on his own because being so social exhausted him, she knew that his gaze got lost more often than he’d like to admit, lost in a whirlwind of doubts he bragged about not having. Like if he’d hurt someone with his raw, spontaneous humour, or if he could have done things better.

She knew he dreamed of travels and adventures, knew that he scolded himself for knowing his flaws but never fixing them. He was a child guilty of acting like a child.

And though she didn’t have the same issues as him, she understood them.

But what had definitely moved her was the intensity of his gaze on that night. There had only been the flashing lights of her screens, sculpting his features, maybe dotting his black eyes as he looked up at her. His cheeks had been almost as red as hers from the alcohol, indicative of the obvious drunkenness of her friend. But it shouldn’t have been weird seeing how they’d played drunk a bunch of times before. Definitely shouldn’t have. She’d been laughing, they may have been playing that game where he holds her wrists and she has to push him back because she was a very strong lady. And she’d been. He had still been holding her wrists in his hands, her own chestnut hair framing his face as she looked down at him. His gaze hadn’t been really focused, hazed by the liquor’s effect, but it had never left hers until he’d pulled her to him and his arms had slithered around her petite figure, wrapping themselves around her. It had taken her a moment to realise he was hugging her.

She’d felt his chest against her face, rising and dropping steadily, smelled his woody perfume mixed with sweat and booze and it should have felt familiar. There had been something in the beating of his heart against her ear though, and she’d loved the warmth of his arms, the little drum of his fingers against the small of her back before he’d said:

“I love you.”

Hana groaned at the memory, shaking her head to snap herself back to reality. It hadn’t meant anything. It had been a platonic confession. The kind they threw at each other to joke around, or to really appreciate each other as friends. Because love was way more than the eros and the grand amour. It was something she firmly believed should be told more without any over calculation.

But in the dim light of her room that night, tangled in a messy hug with her friend, lulled by his breathing and the buzz of her console, her heart had fluttered before she’d fallen asleep, and it had been her biggest mistake.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the 8-bit ringtone of her phone and a familiar contact picture lighting up the rectangular screen of the device.

“Hey there, frogman,” she picked up, trying to sound as enthusiastic as humanly possible.

She could feel Lucio roll his eyes before he even spoke. “It’s Mr. Frogman thank you very much.”

“Sure, frogman,” she replied, teasing. “What’s up?”

“Eh well, the usual,” the musician chuckled. “Just wondering if you have any time to kill with Genj and I?”

Once again, she hesitated. It wasn’t like her, but the bubble of unease that was growing in her chest was distracting her coherent thoughts. She opened her mouth, hoping that it would help her brain form a faster sentence, but she couldn’t decide whether to say yes or no. She knew that Lucio wouldn’t press if she refused, and she was afraid to be disappointed at the beep of her phone when he’d hang up.

She bit her lip. “I don’t really know… I could but probably not for long.”

“Feeling sick?”

“Not really, just meh,” she said with a humourless puff, chewing on her gum.

“Huh,” Lucio acquiesced. “Well we’ll get you better. Healing beats by yours truly and all.”

She really laughed this time. A small, but genuine laugh that cheered her up instantly.

“Okay fine, I’ll see you in 20.”

Swiftly, she jumped into her trainers and grabbed her headphones. That along with her phone and portable console were all she needed in her sweatshirt’s pockets to exit the flat and head towards their usual spot, the arcade square.

The weather was fairly nice for an autumn day. She’d grown used to the occasional chill and the complete closet confusion in the morning. She still loved the salted remnants of summer that floated in the air but preferred the calm and peace of office days. The streets were mostly empty, shops deserted from the jam of customers that came in the evenings and weekends, an occasional laughter from one of the nearby cafés would break the tranquility of the walk. As Hana approached the arcade, the city sounds shifted and fluctuated, roadworks and klaxons replacing the flutter of the trees and the exclamations of children in their courtyard, gasoline perfumes weaving with that of coffee and urine. The sun reflected on the glass windows of skyscrapers and towers, its rays slithering their way through the buildings to lit up the cold, shadowed avenues below as she hurried down the underground entrance. A puff of heat welcomed her when she walked down the stairs, the smell of rubber and iron filling her nostrils, chatter and screeching trains swallowing the noises of the city as she aptly made her way through the wide, tunnel-like corridors of the station. It was a common thing to use the tangle of underground networks to avoid the stoplights and the many avenue crossings, and to Hana, it was more convenient as every single crossroads below had far more indications than the streets and the boulevards above.

She let out a sigh when she finally exited the underground to find the flashy neons of the arcade facing her. Lucky for her, her usual spot with her friends was right outside the station, a little square lost between towering buildings that seemed to have forgotten its existence. As such, there was one old tree in the middle, a couple of broken benches, a café and the arcade. The location was meant to be in a fancy business neighbourhood, but the spot had become so hidden by the city’s continuous metamorphosis that it was mostly frequented by students and a few hippy omnics.

She spotted her friend’s ponytail on the first glance.

“Yo Lucio!” she called, grinning.

“Hana,” the young man exclaimed with a soft smile, pushing off his headphones as he stood up to greet her. “You ready?”

“To beat highscores? Always,” she said before looking around. “Where’s Genji?”

She nervously avoided eye contact as she asked the question, which was in itself a very bad idea since the whole point was for him not to suspect a thing. She scratched her arm and forced herself to look back at her friend, adding a smile for good measure. Lucio didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he frowned and focused his entire attention on her. In that instant, she could feel her own heart stumbling like a cartoon character, panic clutching it under the observing eyes of the musician. She caught her breath, widened her smile in hopes to get him off her back. Finally, he shrugged.

“Saw that college freshman from the other day and followed her inside.”

Ouch.

“Of course,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Typical Genji.”

“Right,” Lucio answered, raising a dubious eyebrow.

Sensing the danger, Hana grabbed him by the hand and pulled him after her and into the arcade. The air was cooler inside, due to the many air vents that peppered the walls. It was dimmer there, blues and pinks lighting the huge room and the machines, green strobes running around the walls and the floor. She glanced around and spotted Genji at a shooting machine, not so far from the entrance. There was a girl with him, more specifically in his arms as he seemingly showed her how to use the plastic gun to shoot the enemies.

From where she stood, Hana couldn’t hear much of their conversation, but she could see the way the girl’s shoulders shook in hilarity, the closeness of their two bodies, the way his thumb gently stroke the back of her hand. His mouth was on her neck, hovering, teasing until he pressed a quick kiss under her jaw. When she blushed, he flashed a satisfied smile, borderline smirk that Hana knew by heart. The girl smiled to herself, elated, and moved a bit closer to him. Too busy to flirt, she missed the shot and looked taken aback by the game over screen, causing Genji to chuckle in her neck and nuzzle her.

It was a sight Hana was used to. She’d seen him coax a thousand of girls before, walked on him making out with a thousand more and teased another thousand if they came asking after Genji. She found it funny, entertaining, didn’t mind the PDA. It had become the usual and he barely even flinched whenever she or Lucio would stumble upon him with a girl, almost said hi and asked about their day.

Well, they had limits. Wouldn’t barge in during more private activities.

It was therefore a sight she was used to. But now she was envious. Envious of the way the girl’s hair curled around his shoulder, her hand under his, the giggles that escaped her tangerine lips. She wanted his arm around her waist too, and his hair tickling her temples and his soft chuckle in her ear. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be one of those stupid girls she laughed at.

Her chest swelled with an all too painful sadness. Envy was a terrible emotion. It didn’t come with jealousy or directed anger, it just nibbled at her, brought doubts and fears and swallowed her whole as she sat alone in her room.

Envy was the very reason she was so upset with herself. For allowing herself to stoop so low, for wishing something she mocked so much. She shouldn’t be crushing on Genji. She shouldn’t wish to be a weak girl, a toy. He would probably be too afraid to ruin their friendship, so she couldn’t even stand where that girl did. He would try to reject her as gently as possible, probably feel bad, she would smile. She would understand that he valued her too much to play with her, that she deserved a real relationship, a caring boyfriend.

And yet… She ached for his touch, and it killed her inside.

She felt something around her hand snap her back to reality, and she glanced down to see that Lucio was tightening his grip. She noticed he was responding to her own steel-tight grasp and that she’d been crushing his hand for the past couple of minutes. She abruptly let go and wondered in panic if she’d outed herself to her friend.

“Wow they’ve brought a new machine!” she announced excitedly to hide her embarrassment, cheeks burning. “Sounds like a new highscore for me to set!”

In an attempt to convince him of her genuineness, she turned around and accompanied her exclamation with a little V sign and a wink:

“MVP D.va ready to rekt.”

“Get good D.va, I already set the highscore to beat.”

She jumped when she felt an arm around her shoulders. Only the familiar woody scent and silvery voice allowed her to put a name on their owner. That, and the more unsafe skip of her heart. She took a short breath.

“Do you hear something, Lucio?” she asked, looking away to dissimulate her sudden difficulty to breathe. “It sounds pretty distant, can’t understand a word. Could it be… A scrub?”

“Wow,” Genji gasped. “How could you call me a scrub? After everything we’ve been through.”

“I have sudden amnesia.”

“You mean you forgot our bonding episode over the delicacies of ramen?”

“Completely.”

Genji gasped again. Louder. More dramatically. The sight was funny, quite Genji-like, and just as expected, his honeyed chuckle followed the antic. Hana felt a little flick on her cheek and almost jumped when she felt his breath tickle her ear:

“You look out of it, could it be you’re jealous?”

She almost choked on her saliva as alarms started blaring in her head.

“Please do enlighten me,” she scoffed, not quite looking at him yet. “I can’t seem to catch what I’m apparently jealous of.”

She knew he was smirking as he leaned closer to her ear, murmuring:

“I saw you looking at us moments ago.”

“Saw me? You mean you look at other girls while flirting with one?” she tried, firming her trembling voice with a huff. “Aren’t you the one trying too hard to make me jealous?”

He laughed and she finally felt his weight on her lessen.

“Can’t blame a man for trying,” Genji conceded, shoving his hands in his pockets as he briefly greeted Lucio with a grin.

“Man you guys should totally sort out this tension you two have going on,” Lucio declared, crossing his arms with a little disappointed shake of the head. “The air is getting hard to breathe lately.”

He chuckled.

“Nah,” the ninja replied. “Might miss our back and forths. Genji and D.va, D.va and Genji, how could I ruin our mythical duo? We’re tension builders.”

“He can’t stand ramyun,” Hana commented. “I’m not going out with a wimp who can’t stand spicy food.”

Genji clutched his chest. “Shots have been fired. Lucio, I need healing.”

Their banter was interrupted by an excited squeal from behind Hana. Turning around, she saw the college girl excitedly skip in front of the arcade machine.

“Genji, look!” she exclaimed. “I did it! I killed the boss!”

“See,” Genji cheered, walking back to his companion. “Told you I had a radar for talented girls.”

The girl blushed lightly, flattered by the compliment. Hana watched her look up at him when he reached her, and she could’ve sworn the girl was dying to kiss him. The sight was painfully evident, and though she knew Genji would undoubtedly play with her for a few days before granting her wish, Hana felt repulsed by her obviousness. How much respect was there in not being hard to get?

She rolled her eyes and sighed, meeting Lucio’s gaze as she turned back.

“You totally like him,” he said, taunting her with the biggest shit eating grin.

“I totally don’t,” she protested.

“Oh come on,” he pressed, wrapping an affectionate arm around her shoulders. “You know you can tell Papa Lucio anything. Especially things he’s already figured out.”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

“You totally do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s okay, no need to beg me, fofinho. I’ll wingman you.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

Lucio looked at her for a full second, studying her silently. “I’ll read that as a yes.”

“It’s not!”

D.va pulled her hood over her head, tugging at the fabric to cover half her face as she groaned. What was her life?

“We’re just friends and that’s how it should stay,” she declared, revealing her eyes from under the hood. “That’s just how we roll. You know it.”

A giggle erupted from where the lovey-dovey couple was standing and D.va couldn’t suppress a wince.

“I’m just a bit touchy lately,” she concluded.

Lucio watched her without a word. His gaze had softened, stance more relaxed as he closed the gap between them. He put his hands on her cheeks and squeezed them, giving her a funny fish face as he did so.

“You know,” he said with a smile. “Reality is the mirror of our very own consciousness. What we notice. Change, on the other hand, is what we realise. And maybe it’s our inability to fathom the entire picture that deceives us into thinking that everything is only what we’ve been, up until now, conscious of.”

She pouted, shoving her hands in her sweatshirt pockets, but didn’t answer.

“In other words… You gotta let the beat drop when it has to drop,” he added, laughing. “That’s always the best part of the song.”

This time, she couldn’t help the little smile that tugged at her lips. “That’s pretty deep, Mr. Frogman.”

“Of course it’d be,” he chuckled. “Wouldn’t be selling albums if it weren’t.”

“Still waiting for that autograph, by the way.”

“Still waiting for yours.”

She laughed. There was a part of truth in Lucio’s words, probably when it came to how focused she was on her own interpretation. But it was only in part, and she’d been brooding on her situation long enough to be overwhelmed by fears and doubts. She wasn’t convinced. The change had been too sudden, and it had probably affected her only.

Genji couldn’t be crushing back on her.

Her mulling was interrupted when Genji walked back to them.

“Hana, Lucio, let me introduce you to Aya,” the sparrow’s familiar, cheerful voice chirped. “I asked if she’d like to join us for the day, if you don’t mind of course. Lucky for me, she said yes.”

Oh how Hana knew where Genji was getting to. Knew that he hadn’t mentioned any friends whatsoever. Knew that he was toying with the poor Aya, and her expression as she realised it wasn’t a date was priceless. The little twitch of her smile as she tried to keep a polite face, tried to hide her disappointment. Her gaze lasted a bit longer on D.va, probably measuring how much of a competition she represented. It was petty, but necessary, and Hana was more than used to the calculating gazes of Genji’s conquests. Sometimes, she’d pretend her and Lucio were a thing to get them off her back, or on the contrary, taunt them shamelessly by flirting openly with Genji. The urge for the latter was the strongest in that instant, despite Hana’s emotional confusion. She was a gamer, a challenger, and her passion for games was the hardest to fight.

Pulling out her tongue, she V signed over her eye and stared directly at Aya, taunting.

“As for this beautiful lady,” Genji continued, battling to keep a straight face at Hana’s antic as he pulled Aya closer. “She’s a foreign student going for a history degree, and very probably my heart. I guess you can just call her Mrs. Shimada already.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Here I thought that title was reserved for me.”

“Should’ve stated your claim on my heart before, darling,” he replied with a smirk. “You took your time and got caught off guard.”

“I don’t need flirting lessons from you, honey,” she scoffed.

“Graciously offering my help only to be brushed off like a mere peasant, do you see that Aya dear?”

The young woman made a tight smile, as though she didn’t feel comfortable with the faked tension. Still, Genji was surefooted and Hana watched him lean in to murmur something in Aya’s ear. It seemed to lighten the mood from the way her features relaxed and she wrapped herself around his arm.

Hana knew that Genji would never badmouth her, that she was sure of. But the intimacy stung, and it took her inhuman efforts to keep a smile plastered all over her face as she watched the two together.

“So how about that new arcade game?” Lucio asked in an attempt to break the tension. “Maybe we should grab something to eat first?”

“Totally,” Genji acknowledged with a strong nod. “I’m starving.”

The DJ gallantly offered his arm to D.va as they walked towards the food court. Gladly, she took it and instinctively moved away from the couple, rather focusing on the arcade machines and the various players. There were younger gamers, boys hanging out together to beat each other’s scores, girls gathering around dance machines or air-hockey tables. Many couples were meeting up at the arcade too, as it called for proximity and adrenaline. Their own voices gradually died in the mayhem of bgm and sound effects as they got closer to the snack bar. There were a few free tables, wobbly, missing a few chairs, but the group settled at one regardless.

It was Lucio and Genji who offered to get the orders, and soon Hana was left alone with the college girl. Though it should’ve been uncomfortable, both girls barely gauged each other, one checking her phone, the other pulling out her portable console to resume her platform game.

Despite the buzz around them, the silence that weighed on them was particular. None could tell if it was rivalry or just plain disinterest that filled the air between them. Not even them. It was just there. An unqualifiable silence.

“Do you think I should pursue this with Genji?” Aya asked finally. She’d said that without looking up from her phone, nails swiftly tapping the tactile screen as she typed.

Hana played with the stylus caught between her teeth, eyes glued on the jumping character of her game. She felt her heart skip a beat at Aya’s question, making her wary of herself.

“What do you mean?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Well,” the college girl elaborated. “You two seem pretty close. I’m not looking for anything serious, but I also don’t want to get caught into any drama between you guys. I have better things to do than play third wheel. So I’m asking for your opinion, because I don’t want to be a thorn in your side.”

Hana blinked.

No, she was supposed to say. Genji is a famous playboy, so it’s kind of our game to flirt back and forth. It’s got nothing to do with any feelings between us! I’m not crushing on him or anything like that. I’m just teasing you. Just enjoy your time with him. If it’s not you, it’ll be another girl.

It sounded more like an inner ramble than a potentially coherent answer. There was no way D.va could say that out loud without sounding like she was desperately looking for an excuse. It looked meek even to her.

Focusing back on her game, she didn’t answer immediately, rather clearing the level until she spoke again.

“There’s no way you could be a thorn in my side since there’s nothing going on between Genji and I.”

“Is it?”

“I don’t see why there should be.”

“Maybe there is,” Aya retorted, flashing a glance towards Hana. “At least from the way I see it.”

The gamer girl pressed the last jump button before the checkpoint and let her character fall into the river. Only then did she look up at the other girl and smirked.

“Are you shipping us, by any chance? Because we do have this one fanclub…”

Aya rolled her eyes with a little laugh. “That’s ridiculous. But it is true that you’d make a nice couple. Maybe Genji’s right. You’re the problem.”

Hana raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not my role to nudge,” the girl answered with a contrite shrug, smiling.

The girl’s smile seemed genuine, which felt weird considering all the mean glances D.va had grown used to over the years. It made it difficult to be upset at this strange girl, and Hana didn’t like one bit of it. It put her off guard, brought down her sarcasm defenses and made them inadequate.

She was confused. She didn’t know what any of Lucio or Aya’s words truly meant. It felt as though they knew so much more than they wanted to let on, and it drove her crazy. They were evasive, puzzling, and she couldn’t figure out a reasonable reason to justify it. A reason her defenses would appreciate. She liked clear objectives, clear instructions.

Not half sentences she couldn’t allow herself to interpret.

She couldn’t afford a game over.

“You shouldn’t bother yourself with interpretations,” she said, though her voice sounded smaller than she would’ve liked as she looked back at her console. “If you’re not looking for anything serious, Genji is the right pick. You’ll both enjoy it.”

Aya couldn’t answer as the boys came back, putting down their trays as they resumed their festive conversation, roaring with laughter. Under normal circumstances, Hana would have joined, bullying them to get them to share the topic. Obviously, they’d tease her, Lucio would pull his signature “Why are you so angry” line as she’d feign being mad. It would probably end with her challenging them to the arcade games in exchange for their apologies, with Lucio breaking the highscore of the dance machine, and Genji fighting body and soul to beat D.va’s shooting game score.

But this time, she was silent, focused on her own little game, barely caring about the surrounding noise. She had too much to sort out and only the repetitive jumps of the character emptied her mind from the anarchy of her thoughts.

She felt upset and confused, and not where she needed to be in that instant.

For the first time in ages, D.va, the outgoing cheeky world renowned gamer, ached for silence and solitude.

“Oh no, my smoothie is already empty.”

“Thirsty much, babe?” asked a playful Genji.

“Very funny,” Aya answered, probably rolling her eyes in amusement.

“Well I do hear that pretty often so… I think I can safely highlight that as one of my many qualities.”

Aya laughed and Hana almost cringed when she felt Genji’s leg under the table as he moved closer to the college girl.

“I’ll go get you a drink,” he announced finally, voice dripping with cajolery.

He stood up, his chair creaking as he pushed it back but was interrupted by Aya’s sudden exclamation.

“Hold on,” she said. “I’ll just come with you.”

And she did, couple walking away, arm in arm as they murmured things in each other’s ears. It was in that instant that Hana made the mistake to look up and meet Genji’s gaze, looking back at her even as he had another girl with him, even as he walked in the opposite way and had no reason to be glancing in her direction.

It had been fast, lightning fast but it had been enough to tighten the knot in Hana’s chest. The knot she’d been carrying ever since Lucio had implied that there could be more than friendship towards her from Genji’s part. The knot that had grown unbearable as Aya implied that she was a problem, that she was a coward. Because none of them knew how much she valued Genji, and how devastated she would be if she were to lose it all.

She felt dizzy, nauseous almost, the sounds around her merging into the most disastrous of cacophonies. She needed to leave.

“Lucio, I think I’m gonna go,” she managed to say as she stood up.

“Are you sure? We haven’t even played yet,” her friend replied, worry starting to paint itself on his face.

“Yeah, I just don’t really feel like it today.”

She smiled at him, shrugging. She was becoming a great actress, even though she knew Lucio was smarter than that. It also meant he wouldn’t press because he knew.

“Okay,” he said. “Just stay safe, okay?”

“I promise, I’m a big girl.”

She hugged him before leaving. A tight hug, the kind that didn’t really need any words, any language. The kind to which he responded with the same strength, if not more. It was comfortable, comforting, familiar. She needed the warmth and the understanding of her best friend, the calm drum of his heart to soothe her and the rugged texture of his dreadlocks tickling familiarly her cheek.

“Don’t worry too much about this, Bunny Hop,” he murmured in her ear as she pressed her face in his shoulder. “Everything comes in its own time.”

She didn’t answer, nor nod. She simply stood up, smile not leaving her face until she turned around and left, not even as she V signed to Lucio to signal that everything was okay.

Nothing was okay.

The walk to the underground station felt surreal, but the cool air of the evening soothed her nerves and made her sight less blurry, though her heart showed no sign of calming down. She took a deep breath as she entered the station, hurriedly walking down the stairs as she pulled out her underground card from her phone case. She’d decided that a packed train would be better than walking through the wide avenues of the city and risking to get run over by a car. She would squeeze in there and give free reins to her thoughts as the stations passed one after the other, people came and went, tunnels started and ended.

The train arrived shortly after she sat down and she scurried inside, apologising as she tightly tucked herself away between two passengers, the lack of space making it useless to cling to any hanging strap. She sighed deeply, pulling her headphones over her ears, scrolling down her music player as she waited for the door to shut down.

She hadn’t found a proper song when someone slipped inside the metro right before the doors closed, disturbing the careful arrangement of the packed vehicle as he made his way to a specific area of the train. She hadn’t planned to look up and glare at the newcomer for lack of interest, but her eyes definitely widened when she recognised his voice.

“Hana.”

It took her approximatively all her self control not to look up at him. Especially when she recognised the orange hoodie and the woody perfume that stood out despite the mixed scents of sweat and dust, she recognised the concerned tone in his voice and she wanted to be far away from there.

She hoped he would think she was listening to music and didn’t hear him. Hoped he would give up.

But the latter was far-stretched.

“Hana, I know you can hear me,” he said, reaching for her phone where no song was being displayed.

Without thinking, she pulled away before he could touch the device, shoving it in her pockets as she lowered her head further.

Fuck, she thought.

This was going horribly.

The train stopped at the next station, the pre-recorded voice repeating emotionlessly the name of the stop as the machine halted abruptly. The jerk sent D.va forward and into Genji. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her waist, protecting her from the wave of passengers who hurriedly left the train by fear of colliding with the hasty crowd who tried to get in, and Hana felt almost deaf from the erratic scramble of her heart in her ears.

“Look at me, Hana,” Genji asked again. His voice seemed firm, but in the jolt of the train starting, she could have sworn she heard a slight shake at the end. Whether it had been caused by the movement of the vehicle or something completely different, it would’ve been hard for her to tell, even less bring herself to ask. But when she didn’t answer, she heard him again:

“Please.”

It was way more than she could take. And for that exact reason, she was all the more terrified to look into his eyes.

“I did something wrong, right?”

She glanced at him at that exact second, shaken by the train’s inconsistent trajectory and the unbalanced passengers who bumped into her. Those should’ve mattered, even more so than the chest of the boy in front of her, even more so than the gleam in his eyes as he looked at her. That gaze shouldn’t be tugging at her heartstrings the way it did. That look of pure worry shouldn’t be this intense and genuine.

“No, you didn’t,” she breathed out, throat clogged.

He sighed. “Then why do you look so sad whenever you look at me?”

“I’m not sad,” she mumbled, looking away.

The train stopped again. It was Genji who bumped into her this time, pushed by the incoming passengers until D.va felt the metal of the pole grip against her back. The heat was more intense in this part of the train, probably due to the fact they were far from the doors now and people were the most concentrated where they stood. She almost lost her balance in the tangle of legs below, but held onto the pole to keep herself standing as the train started again. She vaguely wondered how many stops there would be until she’d be able to leave.

When Genji spoke again, she realised he was too crushed against her to be able to look at her, his breath tickling her ear as he seemed to think of an answer, almost stumble as he searched for proper words. She was about to break the silence, narrowly missing the murmur that eventually escaped his lips. The sound was drowned in the screech of the railways, in the cough of a nearby commuter and the whine of a little child in the distance. She hadn’t been supposed to hear him, but she had. It had been crystal clear.

“Why do you make this so hard for me?”

Maybe Genji’s right. You’re the problem.

“Do I?” she asked, tightening her grip around the pole.

He inhaled, taking in the sweet perfume of her hair as a self-deprecating chuckle escaped his lips.

“Yeah,” he said. “You do.”

“Then why not cut me off, if I’m so problematic?”

The train quivered again as it stopped at another station. She quickly glanced over his shoulder to see that she would be able to get off in two more. She tightened her grip around the pole and Genji took advantage of the new wave of passengers to put enough space between them and look at her. She didn’t meet his gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, increasingly fed up. “I just don’t know anything anymore. I’ve been struggling for weeks, trying to make sense of emotions that everyone around me seems to understand better than I do. No one wants to explain anything to me and it makes me feel like I’m being toyed with.”

He tilted his head, puzzled. “What emotions?”

She gestured frantically towards the both of them, using the little space she had and sighing all the while in frustration. She shouldn’t be getting this upset. “This… You, me, us.”

“Us?”

“And I just can’t sort anything out. All my attempts at fixing myself fall apart and I don’t know-”

“No, what about us?”

She looked at him then. He had tensed all of a sudden, his gaze intense, maybe expectant. It felt almost like he was hoping for something, hoping for a specific answer but she bit her lip, reluctant to deceive herself with unfounded interpretations.

“There is no us,” she asserted. “At least beyond our friendship.”

Hana would have been unable to describe the exact emotion that flashed in Genji’s eyes in that instant. Spontaneity would have wanted it to be disappointment, hurt, maybe sadness somewhere? Reason, however, couldn’t find any valid argument and she decided to overlook whatever misunderstanding there could be, preferring to blame her own treacherous mind rather than fool herself.

“Right,” he smiled, clearing his throat. “We’re just friends, of course! Wouldn’t want to retire from my playboy days so soon, eh.”

She raised an eyebrow, genuinely startled.

His eyes widened slightly before he looked away, the train’s motion briefly making him lose balance.

“I mean,” he spouted. “Should there be an us… I believe you’d deserve to be more than just another girl.”

If her heart hadn’t been loud enough before, Hana could have sworn she’d heard a gear or two pop out of their place as she struggled to keep herself from paling. No, her reaction was being ridiculous. He was doing exactly what she’d predicted he’d do if she ever confessed.

Remind her that she deserved more than a playboy, and that she didn’t belong with him. That he was nowhere near retirement and that he wouldn’t like her to waste her time on him.

The simple thought was enough to bum her a bit. It was something to anticipate a thing, another to take the impact. And she didn’t think she’d been ready for her pessimistic scenarios to turn out to be correct.

“Which further strengthens the idea that we’re not suited for each other as anything other than friends!” she announced with forced positivity.

She didn’t expect that Genji wouldn’t answer immediately, rather finding a sudden interest in the surrounding passengers he decided to contemplate. He looked back at her after what felt like ages and put on the widest grin he could.

“Definitely, you couldn’t have said it better,” he acknowledged, tensing a bit when the jolt of the train pushed him back into D.va. They were once again crushed against each other, but for the first time since they’d gotten into the train, Hana noticed the way her arms had instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist. She let go.

“So, how does this ‘us’ thing link to people knowing your ‘emotions’ more than you do and toying with you?” he asked after managing to position himself at a respectable distance.

“Oh well uh,” she stammered. “It’s just…”

Her voice trailed off for a lack of explanations. She nervously looked around.

“You know what? I have to go,” she mumbled as the train stopped again. It wasn’t her stop yet, but she needed to leave this place as soon as possible.

Hurriedly, she slipped under Genji’s arm and sneaked her way through the passengers, aiming for the door as the recorded voice repeated relentlessly the station name. It was more difficult than she’d assumed, the compressed bodies barely giving any space for her to leave, each passenger fighting to get in and off the train as quickly as possible.

She felt his hand on her wrist halfway through her escape.

“Hana.”

She tried to free herself from his grip, as the beep signaling that the doors would close soon resonated in the vehicle. But it was in vain.

She didn’t want that frustration building in her chest, or the growing panic that was blurring her sight. She wanted to leave and never have to confront Genji. This was a mess and she hated every second of it.

“Let me go,” she whined almost, still pulling her arm.

“Not until you’re okay!” Genji retorted and she knew he was shaking his head vehemently as he said so.

“Why would you even care?”

“Have I ever not cared?”

She bit her lip, unable to turn around and face him. She hated how right he was.

“Why shouldn’t I care, Hana? Give me one reason and I’ll do it. Right away. I’ll stop caring. Because I care way more than friends should and the fact that… No matter what I do, no matter what I try, I can’t get you out of my head… It’s driving me crazy.”

There was something in the way his voice cracked that made her turn around even as the train rattled again and weakened her balance. Grabbing the pole by the door, she looked at him and the hurt and regret caught in his eyes. There was that and it was although there was so much more than just his voice that had cracked, making her wonder why it was that his sentence just didn’t sound the way it should’ve. Wonder why it was that it made her heart skip a beat.

Maybe it’s our inability to fathom the entire picture that deceives us into thinking that everything is only what we’ve been, up until now, conscious of.

He briefly looked away, breathing out in irritation, fingers still around her wrist. Eventually, he closed the gap between them, pressing her against the plastic of the wall as he prudently cupped her face in his hands.

“Do you know how hard it is for me not to kiss you whenever I see you?” His voice was barely a murmur, lost between a sigh and a whisper. “Do you just have any idea of how hard it is for me not to kiss you right now and you’re asking why I would care?”

Her own consciousness seemed to slip away as she took in his words. She felt numb, but somehow still stood on her feet, as though her body had gone on auto-pilot while her own brain tripped. The sounds around her hadn’t vanished, contrary to what books and movies tended to suggest, nor had the heady smell of the underground or the flickering light of the wagon. But she was painfully aware of Genji’s presence and the weight of his gaze on her, dark and pained, albeit with a flicker of hope and nervousness.

She took a ragged breath, trying to make sense of the fluttering thoughts that invaded her mind. She had to say something, anything, but no words came to her as she only stared at the boy in front of her, his hands burning against her cheeks.

“You’re-” He looked away from her gaze, eyes running over her cheeks, her lips, her chin, as though they held the words he was so desperate to find. “You make it so hard for me to keep it to myself. I’m not brave. I’m not brave enough to risk losing you. I can stay your friend and banter with you back and forth if it means you’ll still call me to hang out. I don’t mind. But it’s so hard. And then you just- you start waving these signs that maybe you like me back, that maybe it’s not so wrong from me to be so wrapped. And I can’t trust myself, but I do, only for you to tell me there is no us and leave again.” He peered at her again and the grunt of the machine below their feet got louder. “Why?”

“I’m scared,” she finally whispered.

“What?”

“I’m scared of losing you.” She drummed nervously her fingers on the pole at her left, head throbbing, heart quaking. “I’m scared of the way my heart has started to run wild when you’re around, of the way I ache for your touch and the confusion and the feelings that build up in my throat whenever someone mentions your name. I’m scared of these feelings, because I don’t know how strong they are and if they’re worth me ruining our friendship over a no-tomorrow adventure. I hate myself for envying all these girls that strut about and end up in your bed, for wishing for what I abhor and what I mock. I don’t want to be them, and yet… It hurts so much not to know what to do.”

“Hana…”

His arms were around her before she could even comprehend what was happening, her face pressing tightly against his chest and the zipper of his hoodie. She felt his hands on her hair and his chin on her head, fingers soothingly playing with her brown locks. She could sense his heart pound against her face, hasty, and for the first time, she allowed herself to hug him back, her hands clinging to his vest like a lifeline as she inhaled his familiar scent.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled in his chest. “I’m being really lame and cheesy right now.”

“It’s okay.” His shoulders shook with the little chortle that escaped his lips and he pulled her closer. She heard his voice through his ribcage, as though there was only him to be heard in the train. “I don’t care. I love you.”

Again, her heart skipped a beat. Just like it had so many weeks ago, as he held her in his arms in a similar way. This time she smelled no booze and no sweat, only the soap of his clean clothes and the incense. She felt precious in his embrace, as though she would break or flutter away, and it felt strange because she’d grown up a soldier, trained by her ragged government. It felt strange, and at odds with her strong diva persona, but she liked the feeling of being protected.

It was supposed to be soothing, probably one of those sweet movie scenes with a ridiculous upbeat romantic music and a guitar in the background. Hollywood had definitely taught her a thing or two about snuggling and letting the credits roll, but right now, she was a disaster. A secret disaster. Her heart was scurrying through her chest, running around alarmingly, brain packing for Hawaii, throat begging to let out kettle noises Hana was desperately trying to stiffle.

There was very few words to express her current state of panic, and even less to describe the inhuman effort she was making at hiding it.

Because Genji Shimada had just said he loved her. Genuinely. And none of her half-baked scenarios had prepared her for the eventuality.

“People might start believing you if you say it so loud,” she scolded in a poor attempt to look nonchalant.

He slid a hand under her chin to make her look at him. “Would it include you if I do?”

Yes.

“What am I to you?” she asked carefully, drowning in the brown of his eyes as she urged herself to play hard to get.

“Much more than the girls you envy.”

“And why would I believe you?”

“I don’t know.”

He’d answered spontaneously, as though it was the most natural response to her question. It felt odd, and Hana realised she’d expected him to have a script readied. A series of smooth lines and compliments to every single one of her questions. She’d expected flowers and his regular Genji gear, but there was none of it and she felt dismayed. The train trembled again and jerked as it stopped, pressing Genji further against her as the usual crowd poured out. The placid voice repeated the name of the station. Her station.

The distance between their faces was negligible, and she only needed to tilt her head to feel his lips on hers. It could’ve looked like an accident. But her gaze was glued on his, on the warmth and tenderness and lit his dark pupils, and she couldn’t move. He was beautiful.

She needed to leave.

“Then why is it that my heart’s still running?”

She felt his mouth at the same time that she heard a sigh, something like defeat, escape him. She couldn’t tell if she’d kissed him or if he had, but as she brushed her lips against his, she tasted exhilaration and something that intoxicated her senses and her thoughts. He cupped her face in his hands and her own instinctively found the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as she tilted her head.

She heard the doors beep, then close, and the train resumed its chaotic journey, bumps and creaking sounds and heat surrounding them.

She’d missed her station.

But right now, as she tangled her fingers in Genji’s hair, it didn’t matter at all.

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