#kanezaka

[doctorlavender]

Kanezaka | Overwatch

[brigneyspears]

"First Snow"

Synopsis: Kiriko & Sakura find something unexpected when raiding a Hashimoto weapons cache. a/n: Here's the second short story in my series featuring some of my favourite Overwatch heroes. This one was really fun to write, and came to me quite quickly when the idea popped into my head yesterday. Enjoy :)

 “You sure about this?” Sakura asked, as she and Kiriko made their way down one of the many, winding back alleys of Kanezaka. Kiriko smirked, turning to face Sakura.

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen? Hmm?” She asked, twirling a kunai playfully between her fingers. Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes, she found Kiriko’s nonchalance difficult to reckon with sometimes. She often wondered how so much bravado could fit into such a tiny person. But still, Kiriko’s confidence was as inspiring as it was, at times, frustrating. 

“Oh… I don’t know, we could get shot. Or captured. Or both.” Sakura responded, snatching the kunai from Kiriko’s fingers and smirking herself. Kiriko just laughed. 

“Now, now… We’ll be fine. How many times have we done this now?” She asked, taking the kunai back and sheathing it back into the strap on her leg. 

“That’s not the point. We’ve never done anything just the two of us before…” Sakura says, anxiously fiddling with the seam of her shirt. “The others aren’t around tonight, but I don’t know why we couldn’t have waited.” 

“The Hashimoto don’t wait. We don’t have the time to be patient, we need to keep on hitting them where it hurts.” Kiriko says, adjusting her headband. Sakura doesn’t say anything. Her nerves are worse than usual tonight, for obvious reasons. She’s a firm believer in strength in numbers, and their army of two didn’t feel nearly as strong as their usual six. Kiriko insisted that they do this tonight, their latest attempt at messing with the Hashimoto. The plan is to hit what is believed to be a weapons cache, down the street from the mall. It’s housed in a fairly small, garage of sorts. Not the usual Hashimoto hiding place, as Sakura had observed when they drew up the plan. But, if Nobuto’s intel was good, this would hinder the Hashimoto a fair amount. 

“Here we are”  Kiriko says, slapping her hand against the metal grate separating them from the supposed-weapons cache. 

“Well, if there are any Hashimoto guards in there, at least they know we’re here.” Sakura says, narrowing her eyes and nudging Kiriko gently. Kiriko gives her a look that says “you’re probably right.” But she’d never admit it out loud. 

“Well, I’m going in. See you on the other side.” Kiriko says with a wink, before putting her hands together and disappearing into thin air. Sakura was still getting used to Kiriko’s unique abilities, every time she teleported was usually just as shocking as the last. She hoped she would grow more accustomed to it, eventually. A few seconds, two bumps and approximately three exasperated grunts from Kiriko later… The grate slides up and Sakura enters the garage. It’s stacked wall to wall with wooden boxes, all of them sealed. Some of the stacks taller than both of the young women that have broken in.

“Well, well, well… let’s crack these babies open.” Kiriko says, plucking a kunai from the band on her leg and prying a box open. She looks surprised for a moment, then confused. 

“What is it?” Sakura asks, leaning in closer to get a proper look. 

“It’s just letters… hundreds of letters. None of them opened.” Kiriko says, picking out a handful of envelopes and flicking through the names. All citizens of Kanezaka. 

“So… this isn’t a weapons cache?” Sakura asks, opening another box and finding the same as Kiriko. Hundreds more letters. 

“Doesn’t look like it. Must be mail that the Hashimoto have intercepted, but why? It can’t all be suspicious. There’s probably thousands of letters in here.” Kiriko says, opening box after box and finding more of the same. 

“Just another way for them to control us, I guess. They probably do it just because they can.” Sakura kicked a box out of frustration. She couldn’t help but conjure up imagery of the Hashimoto opening intercepted letters, laughing to themselves that they’d never make it to their destinations. Just another way of knocking the citizens of Kanezaka down. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me. Ugh… I don’t even know what to do with these. Guns, that’s one thing. But this… I….” Kiriko trails off, removing her headband and rubbing her forehead as if it might make her think a little harder. 

“Well, how about we take what we can tonight, then come back tomorrow with the others? We could try and figure out a way to get these letters to the right people. I know it’s not the same as stealing weapons from the Hashimoto, but it’ll still get under their skin. People have a right to know about this.” Sakura says, picking up two boxes, blowing some hair off of her face as she does. 

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Kiriko says, as she picks up a box. Just as she’s about to pick up a second, she notices a box in the far corner. She can’t quite put her finger on why, but she feels like she has to pick this box up. So she does. Trusting her instinct has become something of a second nature, for better or worse.

****

Once she was home, Kiriko took the boxes of letters straight up to her room. She emptied their contents onto her bed and began sifting through them, hoping that her Mother wouldn’t burst in and wonder what on earth she was doing. She looked frantically for her name, or her mother’s, hoping that there may be a letter for them. It’s been 8 years since her father was taken from them, and forced to serve the Hashimoto. Besides the kunai he forged just for her, Kiriko hadn’t received any communication from him. She didn’t understand how that would’ve been allowed by the Hashimoto, but any potential letters weren’t. Like most of the Hashimoto’s decisions, it didn’t make any sense. But all thoughts of the Hashimoto dissipated as she saw the unmistakable handwriting of her father. The letter is addressed to her. 

“Dad…” Kiriko says to herself quietly, gently tracing her fingers over his writing. She held it in her hands for a moment, unsure of whether she should open it. Even the envelope itself felt precious. Her father had touched this, written on it. Held it. After so many years of little contact, this wasn’t just a letter from a father to his daughter. It was Kiriko’s most prized possession. Kiriko shook her head, before delicately tearing open the envelope and removing the letter. She unfolded it, took a deep breath and began to read. 

My dearest Kiriko, 

I am writing to you from what was once Shimada Castle, a place both you and I know very well. Although it is unrecognisable from the glory years of the Shimada clans rule, there are… echoes of its former masters, if you know what to look for. From my window I can see that the first snow is arriving, and is sure to decorate Kanezaka much like it did the day that I was taken from you. I have many regrets about that day, but my greatest is that I did not get to speak to you. Your mother insisted we hide you with your grandmother, at least until you were older, and I don’t blame her for that. But still, it has been a heavy weight to carry all these years. Second only to the one that hangs so heavily around my heart - that I am unable to watch you grow into the resilient, capable young woman I know you will become. I hope, by the grace of the fox spirit, that this letter will find its way to you. Although, if my previous correspondence is anything to go by, I’m not sure that it will. 

There is so much I wish to say. But, as lights out is drawing near, I will try to keep it as concise as I possibly can. As I’m sure you remember, I have a tendency to ramble. So, please, forgive me if I do that here. Kiriko, if our family were a map of the stars, you would be the brightest one of all. Your grandmother knew this, and so does your mother, even if it may not always seem that way. When you were born, your grandmother held you in her arms and told us that you were special in ways that none of us could imagine. I like to believe that she was right. And although I cannot be by your side, and see her words come true, know that I am always with you. Kanezaka is in safe hands with your generation, that much I believe in. No matter what the Hashimoto may have planned for our city, I have faith that one day, with a flick of the kitsune’s tail, our luck will change - for the better. 

The time for lights out has come. I hate to end here, but I don’t want to give my captors any excuse to single me out. My dear Kiriko, you are my life. I can’t wait until the day that we reunite… What a glorious day that will be. Until then, know that I think of you every day. I hope you will enjoy the kunai I sent to your mother, if you’ve kept up your training, of course. 

All my love, 

Your father. 

Kiriko had been so engrossed in her father’s letter she hadn’t even noticed the many tears gently falling down her face. She let out a small sob and clutched the letter close to her chest. As she let herself cry for a moment, she felt like that thirteen year old girl all over again. The girl whose father was taken from her. Kiriko set the letter back down on her bed, gently ironing out the creases she made when she held it to her chest. As she wiped her eyes and let out a deep sigh, she felt a a familiar sensation of warmth wash over her. She opened her eyes, and at the foot of her bed was the fox spirit. The one that has been guiding her, the same one that guided her grandmother. 

“You’re back. It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” Kiriko said, wiping her eyes again and sitting up a little. Each time she saw the fox spirit up close, she wondered if it would be the last. The fox cocked its head, sizing Kiriko up. It appeared, much like Sakura, that even the fox spirit was used to Kiriko’s confident disposition. The spirit took a few steps towards Kiriko, taking a moment to sniff the letter from Kiriko’s father. It did a sort of playful hop when it realised what it was, clearly thrilled that the letter had found its way to Kiriko. 

“Heh. A little late, but at least it got here, right?” Kiriko said quietly, the fox spirit did another playful hop and moved closer to Kiriko, before gently curling up in her lap. She began to run her fingers through its fur. Despite its ghostly appearance, it really didn’t feel any different to when Nobuto’s mother’s cat would sit on her lap. Kiriko leant back slightly, settling against her pillows and absentmindedly stroking the fox spirit that lay in her lap. Her gaze drifted from the fox, to her father’s letter and then to her bedroom window. It was hard to make out, but from the dim glow of the street light outside she could just about see that snow was starting to fall. 

“The first snow…” Kiriko whispered to herself, as tears began to form in her eyes once again. It had been a long time since she saw her father, but tonight, as the first snow of Winter fell on Kanezaka again, she had never felt so close to him.

[overwatch-archive]

Yōkai

Author: Christie Golden Artist: Hammling

Autumn, with its gift of crisp evenings and red maple leaves, was not yet here, but Kanezaka's weeklong eponymous End of Summer Festival heralded its arrival. The festival's grand finale, a display of dazzling fireworks that had been consistently spectacular for hundreds of years, always made Kiriko Kamori a little wistful. As her mother had taught the sons of clan leader Sojiro Shimada the Art of the Sword, and Kiriko's father had forged those blades himself, Kiriko had been a not-infrequent visitor at Shimada Castle. She had spent many years of her childhood staring in awe at the near-magical explosions of color from the castle’s balcony. And standing by her side had been Shimada's sons: Hanzo, looking ever forward into a future filled with duty; and Genji, who often filched sweets for her when the Shimada's many servants weren't looking. "The finest view in the city," the eldest Shimada had once stated, and it was no exaggeration.

But that was a long time ago. The Shimada were some ten years gone now, and their castle had a new occupant.

"I always wish these fireworks weren't the last of the year," Kiriko admitted as she, Ryōta, Nobuto, and Sakura joined the crowd heading back to town.

"Who knows? Maybe they aren't," Ryōta said, smirking. Ryōta was a busboy at Gozan Ramen. It wasn't the best job, but it helped him listen in on some interesting conversations. All the information he gleaned was being put to good (if slightly illegal) use by Ryōta and his friends, who had decided to push back against the criminal organization that had terrorized Kanezaka ever since the Shimada fell from power.

It hadn't taken long for the Hashimoto to swoop in and fill the power vacuum that the Shimada left behind. In the decade since, their stranglehold on the region had only continued to grow.

The Hashimoto's yen was as dirty as it got, obtained from dealing in contraband and other even more unsavory things. The hospital always had several patients who'd "fallen" after crossing paths with them. Tourists were told that the town closed up early because of tradition. In reality, it wasn't safe after dark in Kanezaka, not since the Hashimoto had moved in.

Ryōta and his friends could barely consider themselves more than vandals, but Kiriko knew their hearts—and their anger—were in the right place. The smaller gang had sprayed graffiti, broken windows at Hashimoto strongholds, and once, when they had felt very daring, robbed Tora no Sumika, the Hashimoto bar, a not-so-secret black market stop the Hashimoto had appropriated for their own use from a local family.

One of these days, Ryōta vowed, he and his friends would strike. Hard.

Kiriko believed him. All they needed was the chance, and it came sooner than Kiriko imagined.

Ryōta had learned from Nobuto that a weapons shipment was coming into the nearest port in two days. Sakura informed the gang that she had just visited her uncle, who unloaded cargo at the warehouses, and had pretended to avert her eyes when he'd entered the code for the main gates. The weapons shipment would stay overnight and be out of their reach in the morning. They only had one shot.

Kiriko, Ryōta, Nobuto, and Sakura snuck up to the gates of the yard unchallenged, though Kiriko kept a sharp eye out. The code worked like a charm, but as the gates opened, the moonless night was abruptly flooded with harsh, bright light.

"Which bay is the target in?" Kiriko asked.

"Number six-seven-five," said Ryōta. "Sakura has a code for it too. But first we have to kill these lights."

"Or get rid of the cameras." Kiriko lifted a pair of kunai and twirled them about casually, then pointed one at the top of a building.

The gang exchanged relieved smiles. They knew what she could do.

"Perfect," Ryōta said. "Take them out, Kiriko. We'll head for the bay and have it open when you return."

The group split up, moving quickly but being wise enough to seek what shadows they could. Kiriko closed her eyes and focused.

Fox Spirit, guide me.

She sensed warmth and affection, soft as the brush of a tail, and an image formed in her mind. She opened her eyes.

The Fox Spirit had answered.

Ethereal, softly radiant, the glowing figure stood atop the nearest building, beautiful as moonlight, bowing to Kiriko and inviting her to play.

Kiriko grinned and bowed in turn. She leaped at the wall, climbing with grace and speed to discover the spirit was already bounding along the roof. Kiriko followed, her gaze flitting about for security cameras, her hands reaching for her kunai, throwing with speed and precision. One camera sputtered, crackled, flashed, and went dark. The Fox Spirit sprang off the building, floating down gently, while Kiriko teleported two meters ahead of where the spirit would land.

The race was on. They ran between the outbuildings, Kiriko whipping blade after blade at the cameras until none were left. The spirit turned a corner, and Kiriko felt her energy change.

The Fox Spirit no longer appeared as a playful kit but something otherworldly, impossible, yet terrifyingly real. A trio of Hashimoto guards stood beside a door to the warehouse. Kiriko put her mother's training to work, taking on two of the Hashimoto guards. She knocked one out with the hilt of her kunai and the second by a precise, well-timed elbow to the temple. When she struck the third's weapon from his hand, he surprised her by standing his ground and attempting to grab her. Kiriko seized his outstretched arm and yanked him forward, ducking and slamming his midsection with her shoulder, and finally flinging him to the pavement. He was out cold.

Kiriko dragged them inside the warehouse and locked them in a custodian's closet, then teleported to the roof of the nearest building, scanning the area for other threats. Below, her friends had almost reached the bay, but Kiriko could see what they couldn't: another Hashimoto guard, headed in their direction.

Kiriko dashed lightly toward them as Sakura opened the door to the cargo bay they were after. Pleased with herself, the teenager stepped back.

Kiriko delivered well-placed blows to the pursuing guard's stomach and then neck, knocking him out. He fell to the ground with a thud, inches from her friend.

"Perfect timing," Nobuto told Kiriko.

Everyone's attention turned to the cargo. The crates were easy to locate—marked with the same stylized tiger-head emblem as the Hashimoto-controlled bar—but the shipment was also heavy and awkward. Still, the group managed, and Ryōta, who had come up with this plan, was given the honor of opening the first crate. As expected, it was packed with guns, and everyone gazed solemnly at the array of weapons.

Kiriko moved to push a crate toward the bay. The Hashimoto would be unlikely to search for them beneath the murky waters.

Ryōta grabbed her forearm. "Hang on. I said you'd see more fireworks this year." He opened his backpack.

Kiriko stared at its contents.

"So you did," she said quietly.

"We've been stockpiling fireworks all summer, waiting for a chance like this. I've made timers for them too, so no risk. Can you imagine the blast? This'll show those bastards who they're messing with!"

"Yes," Kiriko said. "It will."

At the coldness in her voice, Ryōta's smile faded. "What's wrong?"

"Listen, before we do this, I want to tell you a story I heard from Sojiro Shimada himself; he told it to me and his sons, Hanzo and Genji, one night after the End of Summer Festival."

Ryōta, Nobuto, and Sakura were younger than her, too young to remember the centuries-old bond the Shimada clan had formed with the people of Kanezaka. Centuries ago, the villagers supplied Shimada soldiers with the rice that kept them fighting and grew the famous Shimada peach, a source of pride for the clan. The Shimada understood how their strength came from the close relationship they had with the people of Kanezaka. They took from their people, yes, but the Shimada had learned a lesson the Hashimoto had not: as the rice fields and peach trees needed care to flourish, so would the clan flourish by caring for Kanezaka.

Sakura frowned. "Is now really the time—?"

"Yes."

Kiriko could see that this fledgling gang was poised to take the first step down a dark path, and she knew she had to stop them. Now. And, possibly, give them a different road to walk.

"A long time ago, Kanezaka was preparing to hold the End of Summer Festival. Each night, nearly everyone would leave their homes to watch the grand display of fireworks by the river on the outskirts of the village.

"A rival clan in the area knew this. And one summer, they came to end the Shimada's rule in Kanezaka . . . and to reduce the city to ash."

Ryōta looked away, as if he knew which way her story was going.

"With everyone distracted, the fires they set would burn unchecked. So the clan torched the peach orchard. Set homes aflame. They even tried to destroy the Fox Shrine. And in a last, despicable gesture, they murdered the guards protecting the huge fireworks and ignited the building.

"It's said the explosion was at once the most beautiful and the most horrifying thing that anyone had ever seen. Smoke and fire, colors and sparks—everywhere."

"But . . . why?" asked Sakura. "Just to get at the Shimada?"

Kiriko nodded. "They knew the Shimada were the only ones powerful enough to stand against them, and they wanted to take everything their rival had: their organization, their castle, and Kanezaka itself. The attack was meant to weaken and demoralize the Shimada. The townspeople were just collateral damage to them."

The friends all stared at the ground.

Good. This was something they needed to understand if they were to achieve their goal the right way.

"The clan assumed the Shimada thought like they did. There was nothing in Kanezaka that was of real value—no artwork or rare goods, just people. They figured the Shimada would send some wagons from the castle to extinguish the fires in the orchards or fields. The crops were important, but those who tended them? Replaceable. The rival clan hid their warriors in the orchards, ready to attack the unsuspecting Shimada.

"That was their mistake. Because the Shimada did not think like they did. The Shimada arrived in Kanezaka with twenty wagons of huge water jars, food from their own storage, medical supplies, and doctors. Shimada's heirs were even sent to coordinate the effort. When the people were tended to, the Shimada warriors and townspeople went to the orchards together, where their united numbers far outstripped the other clan's. They quickly extinguished the fires and made easy work of the intruders."

Kiriko remembered Sojiro speaking to his own children in his calm, serious voice. This is the lesson. This is what a Shimada does. We take care of our people, because they take care of us. When they are hungry, we feed them. When they are hurt, we heal them. And when their city is burning about them, we quench the flames. A leader must be responsible, or else he is nothing more than a parasite.

She turned to Ryōta. "The Hashimoto's idea of how to run Kanezaka is the same. In the past, the Shimada’s rivals used our festival and our fireworks—something we were known for, were proud of . . . something we still love to this day—to show how little we mattered and how powerful they were. Now? The Hashimoto beat up our families, they control our shops, they own our streets."

She regarded Ryōta with compassion. "A blast like this will destroy more than the Hashimoto's guns. You could easily ignite this place, the whole city even. People—our neighbors, our friends—could die."

Ryōta gnawed on his lower lip as he mulled over her words.

"I won't say the Shimada were perfect, especially at the end. But you need to ask yourself what this"—she indicated the bag Ryōta held—"is going to tell the world about who we really are."

Ryōta finally met her eyes. "It’ll tell them that we're strong . . . but also that we're no better than the Hashimoto."

Kiriko nodded. "We shouldn't give the people of Kanezaka more reasons to be afraid. But that doesn't mean we can't frighten the Hashimoto. And I can't think of anything more terrifying than a force that strikes from the shadows, a force with no face, one they can't explain—"

"Like ghosts—Yōkai," Ryōta finished.

The mood shifted in the group, and Kiriko even saw some smiles. In her heart, she sensed the Fox Spirit's approval.

"But for now," Sakura said tentatively, "maybe we take the guns and throw them in the bay?"

Ryōta nodded to his backpack full of pyrotechnics. "What should we do with these?"

Kiriko smiled. "We use them to celebrate our victory."

[genjishimada]

until next time~ 🕯️ a little photoshoot my partner and i did today! ( twtr )

[vacantgodling]

crazy if i decided to go with that idea

[on-dragons-wings]

"The returning overwatch girls were pretty cute."

[saewokhrisz]

he two troublemakers of kanezaka both having green hair cannot be a coincidence ....

bonus live hanzo reaction under the cut:

[fugeoni666]

A date in Kanezaka, if anyone ask, they just say they lost a bet ( of not fallen to each other's cuteness // sorry for the reupload, cuz I realized I made a terrible mistake ;;;A;;; ) Inspired by ShimadaMamii’s tweet

[wildissylupus]

So a little HC I have is that while Hanzo is helping Kiri and the Yokai protect Kanezaka, he's also living with Kiri, and honestly the idea of these two living together is incredibly funny.

Like I love Hanzo but he is a dramatic bitch and Kiriko is usually just done with any given situation. That and their added history of them just annoying the shit out of each other just leads to an amazing roomate dynamic.

Imagine with me for a second;

*Kiriko on her phone early in the morning looking at news reports of recent Hashimoto activity, suddenly being jolted away by a loud noise in the kitchen. She rushes in only to see Hanzo lying face first of the ground*

Kiriko: Fucking God Hanzo, you scared me half to death! What are you even doing?!

Hanzo: Resigning myself to my fate

Kiriko: What? What happened?

Hanzo: Natural selection has come for me...

Kiriko: .....You forgot put on your ankle braces didn't you.

Hanzo: ....Maybe

[arclundarchivist]

Reading through the Heroes Ascension Book, and here’s the stuff I found that seemed like set up for future, likely sidelined story content :/

But there are also hints for stuff that could show up in the main blame through interactions and some possible new characters.

Rebuilding Ruins: Symmetra/Lifeweaver Story

• ⁠Lifeweaver is living at the Atlantic Arcology, which comes under attack by Null Sector, which could have been a major problem due to their “guests”.

• ⁠Symmetra is working against negative influences inside Vishkar, but how far that will get her is up in the air and Lifeweaver invites her to join him at the Arcology as a member of the “Collective”, an altruistic group of scientists and intellectuals.

Unity: Orisa/Efi Story

• ⁠Numbani comes under assault by Null Sector, with Humans defending their Omnic neighbors much more openly than other places.

• ⁠Efi creates a bunch of small drones to help defend Numbani, so that Orisa and her can leave Numbani to help people.

• ⁠Story ends with the pair planning on setting out immediately, and takes place around the same time as the Rio Mission, Efi may be seeking out Overwatch.

Luck of the Draw: Ashe Story

• ⁠Ashe and the Deadlocks were attempting to break into the Las Vegas criminal underground.

• ⁠Ashe nearly died defending BOB, who in turn is almost taken captive by Null Sector.

• ⁠It confirmed damaging or removing the “helmets” on an Omnic causes them to have a “seizure” and die. (What the fuck Rammatra?)

A Friendly Rivalry: Junkers Story.

• ⁠Junker Queen almost had Roadhog and Junkrat executed.

• ⁠Junkrat reveals his secret treasure: A giant airship stored within the last remnants of the Omnium beneath Junkertown. Queen and Hammond begin making plans to get it airborne again.

Thoughtless Gods: Hammond Story (And boy these is a lot of worldbuilding in this one)

• ⁠Direct sequel to the previous story.

• ⁠Reveals that Omnics remaining in the Outback are oddly feral and corrupted in some fashion, cannibalizing each other for parts and actively “hunting” Junkers. Hammond has no idea what caused this.

• ⁠Hammond remembers his time being experimented on the Moon Colony, he is apparently “older” than Winston has he gained awareness before hand, and sort of became a “big brother” to Winston.

• ⁠The apes and Hammond were not the first experiments. There were failures, apparently some other kind of animals, that are still up on the Moonbase. Hammond calls them “wrong”.

• ⁠The apes have a whole society, are building weapons and armor and may be constructing a whole new building/device on the Colony.

• ⁠Possible hints at the Mars Colony.

• ⁠Two apes are named. Oscar, unknown, and Dyson, a large, cruel Orangutan - feels like a character set up.

Where Honor Lives: Hanzo/Kiriko Story

• ⁠Shimada weaponry have “special energy tech”, throws more confusion on the “is this magic” question surrounding the Japanese characters abilities. The Hashimoto are attempting to copy the designs but “they can’t manifest the proper power”. (This seems to be due to Kiriko’s father purposefully give them shoddy work but they don’t know that).

• ⁠The Hashimoto can work with impunity in Tokyo, and are causing trouble even with Null Sector literally on the horizon.

• ⁠Hanzo and Kiriko’s interactions again confuse the whole age gap, because he treats her as if she was a tween when he was a teen.

• ⁠Hanzo joins Kiriko in protecting Kanezaka from the invasion.

Lost Ghosts: Soldier/Ana Story

• ⁠Ana splits from Jack after learning he’s been sitting on the list of Overwatch agent names using it to track Talon movements and not warning the targets. She isn’t joining Overwatch but is going to be trying to protect remaining Agents who haven’t answered the Recall but are not yet dead to Talon.

• ⁠We meet another old Overwatch agent Mirembe, who is thinking about answering the Recall, I think she’s the woman that was standing in the group photo from Ana’s trailer.

• ⁠Another, Kimiko, is named.

Lucky Man: Soldier/Sombra Story

• ⁠Sombra has been leaking info to Soldier, because she believes the cabal she is after is also to blame for that happened in Zurich.

• ⁠Jack has been hunting Talon as a proxy because he never truly believed they took down the HQ. He also doesn’t believe Reyes knew what was going to happen.

• ⁠Sombra and Jack seem to be set up to continue working together, and Jack is headed to Oasis hunting for more clues on the Cabal.

[froggibus]

Shoot Before You See The Target - Hanzo Shimada

Pairing: Hanzo Shimada x reader

Genre: fluff, little bit of hurt/comfort cause its me

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: from the moment you met, Hanzo's wanted you to be his, but what if he misses the mark with you?

CW: attempted kidnapping, some violence, reader gets held at swordpoint, Hanzo kills a bunch of people, otherwise pretty cute and wholesome

its been a while since i wrote anything overwatch lol but here's some hanzo brainrot i got from listening to too much spotify this week <3

————

The first time he sees you, you’re poised in the middle of Hanamura square, hands wrapped around the blue hilt of your sword. There’s a big smile on your face while you demonstrate a technique to a group of kids sporting wooden swords decorated with stickers and marker drawings. 

It’s a rare occasion for him to leave his apartment these days, even more rare for him to show his face around town. But he’s started to go stir crazy within those walls, and it’s a nice enough day for a walk. 

He leans back against a bike rack and folds his arms across his chest, watching as you go around and correct the stances of several children. You’re so delicate with them, hands gently guiding them into position, encouraging voice cooing at them when they get it right. 

He lets a soft sigh blow past his lips. It’s been a long time since he’s seen such delicacy, and it makes him long for better times. 

You walk back to the front of the group of children and show them another move, the scabbard of your sword glistening in the sunlight. Hanzo watches your movement, silently correcting it in his head. 

You’re good—you’ve definitely had training, but there’s room for improvement. He shakes his head. You don’t need his advice. You’re trying to do a good thing here, teaching the youth of Hanamura and Kanezaka the ways of the sword. 

With recent gang activity and violence, it’s admirable. At least, admirable of those ignorant enough to not see how you’re directly presenting yourself as a threat. 

Hanzo finds himself watching you for the better part of the afternoon, even after the sun begins to sink low on the horizon. Once all of the people have gone home, children rushing down the streets to get home in time for dinner, you start to pack up your things. 

“You can come out,” you say to the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows. “I don’t bite.”

Hanzo considers it for a moment before stepping forwards into the last remnants of the daylight. He doesn’t say anything, but the lift of his eyebrow is an acknowledgment towards you. 

You sling your bag over your shoulder. “So, are you looking for lessons?”

“Lessons?” He scoffs, before clearing his throat, “no.”

“Then what brings you here?”

After living with his controlling father and out of control brother, it’s second nature to Hanzo to think on his feet. He would never openly admit that he found you attractive—that would be inappropriate. But he also doesn’t want to lie to you. 

“The city is dangerous this time of night I, uh,” he sighs, “I thought I’d offer to escort you home.”

“I think that I just demonstrated I’m more than able to take care of myself.”

You try to fight the butterflies in your stomach at this gorgeous man offering to walk you home. Dark eyes look at you through thick lashes, loose strands of black hair falling out of his bun and into his face. 

“Besides, I don’t even know you. How do I know you’re not the danger?”

He extends a hand. “Hanzo.”

“Y/n,” you can’t help but let out a laugh at his eagerness. 

Your eyes trail up his hand, following the line work of his tattooed arm. He has muscles but not the pretty, for show kind. No, these are practical muscles built from pain and practice. 

“So, y/n,” you like the way your name sounds in his gruff voice. “Can I escort you home?”

Your heart flutters at that. Not ‘do you want me to?’, not ‘I thought I’d offer’ but ‘Can I’. It warms you. 

“You promise you’re not going to murder me?”

“The night is young.” His voice is monotone, but the intention is clear. Hanzo is trying to joke with you. 

The two of you walk side by side through the city, making small talk in the dark. You learn that Hanzo grew up here from the way he navigates the streets. He’s an archer, he enjoys solitude and warm sake, and he tenses up whenever he mentions his family. 

He mentions how he doesn’t leave his apartment very often and how he hasn’t connected with anyone in a long time. 

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I…struggle, sometimes, to connect with others. I don’t like to put myself out there unless I know how it will end.”

“You can’t live your life like that,” you look up at him, and despite the darkness, he can see the sparkle in your eyes. “If you’re always stuck feeling things out, you’ll never get anywhere.”

He looks confused, brows furrowed at your words. He looks so cute like this, you’re tempted to sweep the hair from his face. 

“I’ll put it into terms you'll understand,” you shoot him a teasing grin. “It’s like archery. You miss all of the shots you don’t take, right?”

He nods, wondering where you’re going with this. 

“Sometimes you’re under pressure or a time crunch, and you don’t have time to line up the perfect shot. You just go for it and hope for the best.”

He still doesn’t understand, but you keep going. 

“Sometimes you have to shoot before you see the target.” You say, “sometimes you have to go for things even if you don’t know how they’ll turn out, because what if they turn out better than you could possibly imagine?”

Your words echo in his ears. Sometimes you need to shoot before you see the target. He’s never done that before. He’s always thought of himself as practical and calculated—lining up the perfect shot, holding the perfect position, waiting until the perfect time. He might just have to take your advice. 

Before you know it, you’re at the entrance to your apartment, waving goodbye to Hanzo while you walk up the steps. Hanzo waits until the door locks behind you before heading back to his place. 

He still thinks of you and your dazzling smile and your words. He needs to see more of you, no matter what it takes. 

————

It becomes a little routine for the two of you over the next month—Hanzo comes to watch you teach the kids and walks you home afterwards. 

You get to know each other more and more, and eventually he even opens up about his clan and his brother and his father. You tell him all about your life, too. How you learned to wield a sword, all about your family and your life in Hanamura. 

Eventually you even invite him in for tea or sake at the end of the night, the two of you sitting around the fireplace and chatting even more. He blends right in with your home. All domestic and soft, sharp angles pacified by the softness of his eyes. 

You don’t have his number, you don’t know where he lives. Your whole relationship is based on the silent agreement that he’ll show up for you every day, and that you’ll be there waiting for him. 

You finish up with the kids a bit later today, the sun already setting as you do. You were teaching a particularly hard technique, and you were late making it to the square after work. 

You begin to pack up your stuff. “So, how was your day?”

You don’t see him with your head facing the opposite direction, but you just expect him to be there like every day before. 

You’re met with silence. 

You turn around, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Your eyes narrow at the bike rack where he usually hangs out, only to see that he’s not there. Your head darts in either direction, but the archer is nowhere to be seen. 

Your shoulders slump. You knew it was too good to be true. Whatever. You were fine before him and you’ll be fine after him. Still, it doesn’t stop the way your heart sinks and stomach plummets. 

You begin the walk back to your apartment, hand gripping the sword in your bag just in case. It’s true that the streets have been more dangerous lately, and having Hanzo with you made it feel safer. But you’re fine. You’ve always been fine. You’ll be fine. 

The sound of footsteps behind you has your head snapping backwards. There’s nothing there, and you manage to convince yourself that it’s the echo of your shoes against the buildings. 

You hear more footsteps now and glance over your shoulder. Still nothing. You speed up, eyes locked on the row ahead. More footsteps, louder and faster now. 

You glance over your shoulder and see a group of men dressed in all black chasing after you. You start running, pulling your sword out of your back and ripping it out of the hilt. You’re not going down without a fight. 

You’re so busy looking over your shoulder that you don’t see the man in front of you. You run directly into him, tumbling onto your butt. Your sword clatters across the brick sidewalk out of your reach. Someone rips you off of the ground, forcing you onto your feet. 

A blade presses to your throat, a gruff voice commanding you. “Scream.”

You bite your lip and shake your head. The blade digs in enough to draw blood. 

“You’re not the prey we’re looking for tonight. Obey us and you’ll live.”

You clench your jaw. Prey? What prey are they looking for? What could they possibly be trying to attract by using you?

One of the other men in the group approaches you, sword in hand. He points it towards your chest, poking the tip at your sternum. 

He starts to apply more pressure, but before he can push too hard, there’s an arrow in his chest and he collapses. You squint at the arrow in the dark. 

Suddenly it becomes obvious what their prey is. Or rather, who. 

Another man goes down and you can’t suppress the laugh that escapes your lips. It’s hysterical and rough and raw, and anyone around you would think you’re crazy. 

The man holding the sword to your throat shoved you forwards. “Shut up,” he nudges you along, trying to force you away from the carnage. 

The rest of his men drop around him, perfectly aimed arrows sticking out of them. You glance up in the direction that they’re being shot from, and your eyes meet his. It’s dark and you can hardly see, but you know he’s staring at you. 

Hanzo squints at you in the dark. There’s only one left, and it’s the one holding a sword to your throat. One wrong move and you die. He can’t get a clean shot on the man, he can barely see in the dark and the areas of him poking out from behind you are so tiny he won’t be able to hit them. 

You see the hesitation on his face, the conflict. But you trust him. It’s Hanzo, and he’s kept you safe for this long. You lock eyes with him and give him a nod. 

Hanzo knows what you’re saying without you needing to say it. A month later and your words still ring in his ears. Sometimes you have to shoot before you see the target. 

Hanzo nocks another arrow, takes a deep breath, and releases. The arrow sinks into the man’s shoulder, and he drops his sword to the ground. He tumbled onto the sidewalk and clutches at his shoulder, groaning in pain. 

Tears fill your eyes. He did it. He hit the shot and saved you. 

You pick up your sword from the ground and shove the hilt into the man’s head. He stops groaning, eyes rolling back. 

Hanzo comes running towards you, loose strands of hair blowing in the wind. “Are you alright?”

“You hit the shot,” you breathe. 

His hands are on you before he can stop them. He’s checking your skin for any bruises or cuts, but the only one he finds is the red mark on your skin from the sword. 

He breathes out a sigh of relief, hands gently squeezing your forearms. “I-I’m sorry I was late. There was an issue I needed to take care of and—”

“You saved me.”

Hanzo freezes, mouth falling open. You’re looking at him like he hung the moon, stars in your eyes. 

Before you know it, he’s grabbing you and tugging you into him, lips smashing onto yours. His strong arms hold you securely, scared someone’s going to take you from him again. 

Your hands tangle in his hair, pushing the loose strands from his face. He tastes like sake and brown sugar and everything you’ve ever wanted. You melt into him, letting your body sag against his. 

Hanzo pulls back, a flush to his face you’ve never seen before. “Can I walk you home?”

You lace your fingers with his, offering him a grin. “Promise not to murder me?”

“The night is still young.”

[overwatch-archive]

[CORRESPONDENCE] Post for Toshiro Yamagami

Haikei, Toshiro, beloved husband:

The cherry blossoms are in glorious bloom after a gentle winter, soft clouds of pink against the green trees on the hillside. The season returns me to the winter day when the Hashimoto took you away from us, when snowflakes fell as the petals do now.

Strange that we are so close, yet we can visit you only when our current "masters" wish it. I hope they value your work enough to bring us together soon. Our daughter appreciated your recent gift, though I pray the blades you forge for the Hashimoto aren’t nearly so sharp, that what you craft for them is only equal to their sordid selves.

The forge of Yamagami Blades remains locked up tight, and since we last saw you in the autumn, we have moved into the upper level. It helps us feel close to you in many ways. In other ways, I feel your absence even more keenly. The musical hammering of the hot tamahagane, the song of the steel, is missing from this place. So is your own voice, your singing to the sword as you brushed it with yakibatsuchi, and the crackle of the fire when the blade hit the forge and the hiss as it cooled in the water. Sometimes I think I hear you there, yet it is always only the wind.

But I will not linger here. For as winter leads to spring, let me write a letter of lightness—a warm breeze bearing drifting blossoms. Perhaps it will grant us both a little peace, even as I turn my blade to keep the peace here from shattering altogether.

Many things remain unchanged, of course, in these eight years since your last trip home. You will doubtless be pleased to hear that Ichiko refuses to change the family recipe at Gozan Ramen, and the black garlic oil is as delicious as ever. It was crowded today, as many have come to celebrate the cherry blossoms. Yui’s dog, Mochi, is getting on in years, but his likeness still spins on the sign of the pottery school. Most of our favorite places are kept alive thanks to the tourists who delight in visiting quaint old towns such as ours. They eat ice cream from the cat café and burn their yen at the arcade or the new shopping mall you have yet to behold. Then, happy with their souvenirs, these day visitors skitter back onto the train before nightfall, when the lanterns flicker to life and the Hashimoto pound on closed shop doors, taking their “share” of what is earned by the labor of others and funneling it up to their betters through the aptly named Tora no Sumika.

Shimada Castle still sits high in its place of glory, overlooking our city like a stalwart stone temple awaiting a benevolent deity. You and I know well enough, we two who make and wield the sword, that while their castle was indeed strong stone, the Shimada were no gods, but people—and criminals at that. But the Shimada understood that honor and loyalty forge the strongest bond between ruler and ruled.

Lately, the Shimada have consumed my idle thoughts. They asked much of those who followed them, but they inspired us to give it. And in return, the Shimada clan led with integrity and treated us with respect. As you know, my mother and hers before her were honored to tend the fox shrine far from the clamor of town. But when it was clear my soul longed for the sword and I excelled at kenjutsu, the Shimada chose me over all others as their swordmaster. They knew that Kanezaka was not just the seat of their power, it was their home . . . and ours, too.

But where the Shimada gave, the Hashimoto take. After all, when one has many homes, one has none—and the Hashimoto clan claws at nearly every city in this nation. We are nothing special to them; one day they will drink us dry and move on, leaving us empty and broken. Even now, some twelve years on, I see the mark they have left on our city.

I regret that, even though the old part of Kanezaka appears outwardly unchanged, it has suffered under the cruel hand of the Hashimoto. Our view of the motherly mountain now encompasses the jut and arrogance of skyscrapers and neon, not the warm comfort of wood and wind and stone as it once did.

I stand, as Kanezaka itself does, between the old ways of the mountain and the Shimada and the new, sharp, hard ways of the city and the Hashimoto. We both know that the Hashimoto have you in their “care” not only for your skills, but also to keep me in my place—to ensure that I do not falter in their charge to keep peace in this city, among these people whom I respect so much. I will obey our current masters, for to do anything else will put both you and our friends here at risk.

I had hoped that over time the Hashimoto would grow lazy. That they would see we are an honest people whom they need not oppress.

Not even the most faithful dog could take such a beating without biting back—and the people of Kanezaka are great of heart. We are being worn down. The demands upon the populace are increasing, and tempers are rising. Missed payments are met with more vicious abuses. And now someone has given the Hashimoto further reason for anger.

Over the last few months, shipments of Hashimoto contraband have gone missing. Their men have been badly beaten or robbed when returning from their rounds. Perhaps most boldly of all, messages painted in bright, conspicuous colors have started to appear, though they are quickly painted over.

These fools are not so subtly throwing in-nen at the Hashimoto, and their acts are received as well as you would expect. These vigilantes think to rise strong against a tide of violence. Instead they strike fast—and hide faster—while the good people of Kanezaka take their penance. And so my job—to keep our own people, our friends, in submission—has become both more delicate and more vital with each passing day. There are moments when I can scarce believe the world in which I walk now: You, making beautiful work for undeserving pigs. I, who trained the scions of Sojiro Shimada, forced to turn my swordmaster’s blade against my own. The children of this town, growing to adulthood with only the brutal, thoughtless Hashimoto to determine what is good or bad . . . our daughter among them. It is dangerous in this city now.

I will walk through Kanezaka today not simply to imagine you walking beside me or to greet our neighbors. I have made an offering to take to the Tetsuzan Shrine of my ancestors: A bowl coated with brilliant blue-green yuyaku from the pottery school, into which Ichiko has ladled a splash of dashi. A rice ball from our neighbor. From Kenta, a piece of red bean mochi—our daughter’s favorite. To all this I have added a generous pour of sake. I may have poured a small cup for myself as well.

I will ask the fox spirit for strength to continue this fight and for wisdom for myself and for all of us. Then, after sunset, I will take the sword that you gave me so long ago at our yuino and patrol the streets of this place that both fills my heart and breaks it. I will find these self-appointed “guardians,” who, if not deterred from this path, may be the spark of a misguided and deadly fire that will consume us all.

May you and I both be as your blades are: strong and sharp. Obey the Hashimoto, as I must, and give them the outward show of respect, even if you cannot give true respect a home in your heart.

I will close on the lighter note that I promised and say that I know if you were here you would remind me, “The kitsune can change your luck with a flick of even one of her tails.” May she flick all nine of them and send some much-needed good fortune our way.

Kashiko—

Asa

[dawnthefox24]

*Kiriko,Illari,D.va and Brigitte are all thinking what to do for Venture birthday clearly lost in thought in the kitchen trying to figure how to spend it with them* Illari: Okay so...Any idea who has a great birthday gift for Sloan? Kiriko: I mean I could take them to Hanamura and Kanezaka for the history but knowing the Hashitmoto clan I don't think so. D.va: I mean I could go to Korea but... Illari: But? D.va: I just might get distracted.... Brigitte: I could take them to the Ironclad Guild, Though with Sloan they might touch things that my papa wouldn't like. What about you Illari? Illari: It's a bit complicated... Brigitte: So basically we've got nothing. Illari: yup. Kiriko: *sighs* ditto. D.va: *nodding*Uh huh! Brigitte:*sighs softly* *Soon Cole walks in the kitchen and noticed that all four of them seemed to be stuck in the dumps* Cassidy: You kids alright? D.va: We can't figure out a good birthday gift for Sloan! Cassidy: Oh well honestly it fairly easy for me since I'm just going to take them cultivating. Brigitte,Illari,Kiriko and D.va: WHAT!? Cassidy: Yeah, okay tell you what. What does Sloan like to do? Brigitte: We'll they enjoy history... Cassidy: Okay and? Illari: Their fascinated by culture... Cassidy: Good and? D.va: Uh...Um... Kiriko: *slams her head on the table*OH MY GOD WHERE STUPID!! Cassidy:*smiles* There we go, Sloan is an archaeologist so take them somewhere its fun for them and boring for you. D.va: No...No you don't mean.... Cassidy: Yup you guys are going to the Museum! D.va:*groans* NO! Illari: But wait a minute, Cole why are you taking them cultivating? Cassidy: I like listening to Sloan ramble about old medicine and plants with how it was used back then and horrors of how people thought it could cure blindness. Brigitte: That sounds...Dark Cassidy:*rolls his eyes but sighs a bit* Part of history, anyways glad to be of help and also I'm going to get you the V.I.P Passes to the Museum. Kiriko: Thanks Coyote! Cassidy:*rolls his eyes* Alright also remember their very easy to entertain. D.va: Yeah,Yeah, Thanks Cole we'll take it from here. Casidy:*chuckles a bit and walks off leaving them alone* Alright see ya. *Soon Venture birthday rolled around, as Cassidy and Venture returned from cultivating since they left early in the morning picking a few plants and flowers* Venture: That was so much fun Cole! Cassidy:*chuckles softly* Of course glad you had fun and yes I'll plant the Foxglove and the Easter Lily in the garden okay. Venture: AWESOME!!! *With that being said Kiri,D.va,Illari and Brigitte showed up as they smiled* Venture: Oh hey guys! D.va: Come Sloan where going somewhere for your birthday. Venture: Oh where are we- Illari:*hands them a V.I.P pass as she smiles* Where going to the Museum of Cultural History, Happy birthday Sloan. Venture:*looks at the V.I.P pass and is smiling like no tomorrow* AHH This is so exciting!! The best birthday gift ever!! Come on! Come on! Let's get going!! Brigitte:*rolls her eyes but smiles* Alright then where driving Come on Hana, Kiri, Also happy birthday Sloan. D.va: Hey come on Sloan and Happy birthday. Kiriko:*chuckles* Happy birthday you Mole. Venture:*takes off running to Brigitte car* LET'S GET GOING! Cassidy: You guys have fun and please don't get into trouble like last time. Kiriko and D.va: What we won't! Cassidy:*crosses his arms and raises a brow* Brigitte: *goes after Venture* We'll try! Come along guys! Cassidy:*watches all four of them go after Venture as he sighs before chuckling* This is going to be one hectic of a birthday for Sloan...I hope they have fun.

[delugedecade]

Closed RP w/@asexxxualerotica

Ever since that strange portal opened up above Kanezaka, and one Nate "Void Spider" Black fell through, Kiriko has had a much easier time fending off goons from enemy yakuza. It also came from the fact that Nate was just such a great partner to work with, and flirt with, though it never really went further than that.

One day, out of the blue, Nate asked her on a date for the next day after a quick stop at her apartment, before swinging off again. And on the day,

"Hey stranger~ You're a bit late~"

[gotafewtricks]

Holy shit Hc's for a Kitsune!reader w kiriko? I think it'd be so funny and cute with how her spirit animal and reader might interact with each other 💀💀

Also hope you're having a good day!

(Might send a crap load of requests cause my brain can't stop coming up with things 😭)

★ O' fox spirit...

Hey !! I love getting requests, and if you're the same anon that requested Genji with a dog!reader, then I'll call you silly animal anon lmao :3 unless if you want to assign yourself w/ a name, that is!

With first impressions, Kiriko would've been pretty pumped about it all!

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that you'd see a yōkai out and about. If you are taking on a human form, then she'd know not to cross with you—not just because of your heritage, but because she knew wise you were! As she has practiced under many ceremonies relating towards the kitsune, she understood the nuances of those mythical creatures; how elegant, yet sly they were with their cunning attitudes.

Kiriko would be very understanding of many things, and would not go around and tell everyone that you were a kitsune—considering her most loyal companion is one, and there'd be no use in letting really anyone know about that without your permission—if you were secretive about it.

She'd love to know how you were doing, and would equally love the chance to strike up some small talk.

The girl would laugh at the silly interactions between you and her companion, always wondering what'll happen next.

Her fox friend would be very interested, I'm sure! I like to imagine that it doesn't appear very often, only in times of need (such as combat) then it'll be summoned. Or, around the comfort of Kiriko and her family. Not everyday you'll see a ghost, eh?

That's how she'd know that you were a kitsune; if you did not have anything outright screaming at her that you were one. If you didn't have the tail(s), ears, or a mask (though, she understood that people may wear them for just apparel), judging by the energy you give off—Kiriko would sense something. Also, it's terribly obvious if her kitsune is also reacting to it, as well.

If you were comfortable with turning into your animal form, she'd then lovingly sigh, as she's crouch down to level the height of the two foxes before her. She'd jokingly chide the two of you to behave; which you two do... sometimes. Causing mischief has never been more fun!

Kiriko would always respect you, and understand if you ever need your time and space. Spirits get busy, and she gets busy—so, it's only fair for her to try her best to ensure that you're okay.

She knows that you can take care of yourself; without needing anyone's help. Judging by your abilities and powers, you were older than the oldest businesses here in Japan that she could think of. If you needed help with anything whatsoever, specifically in reference to adjusting towards human life, she'd do her best!

If you were reluctant with interacting with others, she understands. Humanity is pretty terrifying at times; especially with the Hashimoto now clogging up the streets of Kanezaka. Kiriko would say that, even if those criminal organizations keep up piling on and on, if you were to try and persevere, and focus on the good you're doing now—it's worth it in the end. Even if you just make a few people smile, it's still worth it; even for those few people.

Kiriko would be all up for causing some fun-loving trouble, however, she will back out if things get too dicey. If you wanted to help her with the current yakuza problem, then sure! She'd hate to rope you into something that you may not want to get involved in, so she would want your ultimate consent.

Hanging out with her would be so fun! You're surprised by how she is able to think of so, so many things.

Having trouble with cleaning? She understands! Either that's helping you pick out the best shampoos for your fur, or brushing out and straightening it all—she's got you. Though, be careful about shedding everywhere...

Want to go win some costume contests for Halloween? You guys could go as, well, kitsunes together! Though, Kiriko may say that she'd rather go as something else; knowing she could excell in such a costume, the fox spirit, so she'll dress up as other things—witch, fortune teller, or cosplays from her favourite animes.

All in all, she would adore to have you—even if her hands were already full with her current fox, she's lucky to've been able to meet you.

[luriostragedy]

The Protector of Kanezaka