#technically can be read as romantic for either hanzo or zenyatta but it's also ramattra and the way i write ramattra so it's up to you

[victorygrasped]

Tell me, then, how to share a heart that must ache

Because I feel like it, shares a ficlet I wrote some time ago for my beloved friend for our beautiful AU that we've been ill about for the past months, wherein Ramattra and Hanzo meet at some point after Ramattra leaves the Shambali, but before the formation of Null sector, and the two travel the world together for some time before parting ways due to circumstance

pairings: Left vague, but implications of Ramyatta and Ramzo, with a focus on Hanzo from Ramattra's perspective word count: 1517

A conversation between Ramattra and Zenyatta, taking some time after Null Sector's Invasion, regarding the situation between himself and Hanzo.

The question arrived on the dawn of the spring's equinox. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Zenyatta had chosen the day on purpose. As much as Zenyatta was averse to metaphors, Ramattra knew intimately that the omnic happily indulged in his fair share of poetics. Especially when it was to make a point.

“He is important to you.”

It was said as an observation, not a question. Neither of them required clarification to who the 'him' in question was, and yet Zenyatta deigned to provide one anyway, as silence lingered for moment too long.

“Genji’s brother, Hanzo Shimada.”

“He—”

He doesn’t enjoy that. Shimada.

Ramattra stopped the words from falling out, fingers twitching from where they rested in meditative pose at his need for correction. He hesitated and, briefly, he considered lying. Avoid the topic for fear of what it could entail, return them instead to the idyllic nothings they had been exchanging mere moments ago before the lull in their conversation had given Zenyatta his opening.

He could, the temptation fleeting, yet he knew he wouldn’t. It had only been a matter of time, and he was not fool enough to believe he could hide his heart from Zenyatta. The world? Unquestionably. But not Zenyatta. Never Zenyatta.

Letting out a quiet, resigned, sigh, Ramattra gave the answer they both already knew.

“Yes,” his voice quiet, tinted with static. A confession, “I suppose he is.”

He paused, a moment of contemplation. Part of him felt… uncertain. His trust in Zenyatta ran deep, he knew there was no reason for him to feel so tense. Perhaps it was only natural, It would be the first time he’d been asked such a thing so directly. 

Even between Hanzo and himself, it had all simply... happened. They had never truly discussed the nature of their situation. There had been no need to, when their eyes had been on each other and the horizon before them, ignorant to how each step brought them closer towards cliff's edge.

It was unfamiliar, trying to say with words that which they had only ever said with actions.

“Genji has told me much about Hanzo. Your paths have a number of similarities,” Zenyatta eventually continued as silence stretched, gentle as he could be with his words. An effort Ramattra was grateful for, as much as it sickened him with shame, “And yet... I would not have expected it. Especially considering his attempt on your life.”

That caught his attention. Ramattra's head snapped up away from his hands to meet Zenyatta's gaze.

“How—”

He bit down his words and the tremor of bitterness threatening to encroach into the conversation, if it had been Zenyatta's… student, who told him of such detail. As much as he wished to avoid questioning, the day had been pleasant. He did not wish to ruin it further when he had already ruined so much when it came to Zenyatta.

Ultimately, however the other knew of that particularity held no real importance, and if the need rose, there would be time for to ask later. Letting out a small huff and forcing away the tension that'd spiked within him, Ramattra averted his optics once more, mind turning towards the past instead.

“Make no mistake, it'd hardly been in my expectations, either,” he allowed his tone to go wry, faint trace of amusement finding its way into his words, “It hadn’t occurred to me that it could even be a possibility until long after it had already happened.”

Perhaps that was exactly it had happened. It was such a ludicrous idea, for him to have grown... for him to have found companionship in the human, that Ramattra hadn't been unable to to defend himself from it, the lack of foresight voiding any chance for preparation.

“In hindsight, the transition from him being merely some human, to…” his voice softened without his awareness, laced with unspoken thoughts he himself would fail to understand, “Hanzo, was so unremarkably mundane, it took some time for the significance of it to process.”

More accurately, he had not allowed himself to process it, as if avoiding its mention, avoiding pointing out each time where Hanzo took a step closer and each time where Ramattra had allowed him, would have preserved the peace they'd somehow carved out in an unforgiving world.

It wouldn't have been until much later, as he attempted to rip each trace of it out his chest, did he allow himself to realize how fool he had been.

He had been a fool, yet he knew it could have very well been worse had he dared to bring light it. Like this, they could at least pretend to others it had never happened. Like this, the world could remain ignorant. Like this, Hanzo could be safe.

“You... speak of him with familiarity,” there was hesitation in Zenyatta's words and posture, uncharacteristically uncertain.

Ramattra could hardly blame him. After all, how could Zenyatta know? Zenyatta, who had been there to witness his love for humanity be chewed up, spat out, and stepped on, time after time? Zenyatta, who had been his resentment grow with each day, the only one there who held his hands as they shook from ill contained fury and discord, terrified he might snap within Monastery walls? 

The very notion of Ramattra having possibly found connection with a human... Zenyatta was neither shallow nor a fool, but it was only natural for him to have been surprised at such notion. He knew plenty well just how stubborn Ramattra could be.

And yet, Hanzo... it had all occurred long after Ramattra had left the monastery, unable to bare another day within its walls at the knowledge of his people suffering at human hands. It had all occurred long before he had waged a war, liberation, against humans in desperation to save his people.

All that had happened in between... all that could have been... all that had been...

At the end of the day, it meant nothing. Their paths diverged, as his and Zenyatta's had. It was pointless to ruminate on the past, the thought clawing into his chest in painful insistence.

It mattered not, how guilt and regret may threaten to drown him, so long as they didn't. He had left Zenyatta. He had left Hanzo. Left behind those days where he could have pretended to be something other than what he was in reality, because he could no longer stand to indulge himself as his people relentlessly suffered around him.

It didn't matter how good of a thing it had been. It didn't matter how much he might have missed them. It didn't matter that it had nearly shattered him to be on the other side of the battlefield from them.

It didn't matter how often he had to break his own heart if it was a means to an end. His duty, his fury, his love gave him the strength to continue forwards and that was enough. Ramattra was secondary to his people, those he loved and grieved. It was a truth he could never change.

“You speak of him with familiarity,” Zenyatta repeated, tone quiet, questioning, drawing Ramattra out from his spiraling thoughts, “As he speaks with of you.” 

The thought of Hanzo still caring, for all of the evidence he'd been provided, continued to twist an arrow deep within Ramattra's systems. What could he possibly say to that? He was at a lost for words, something that had begun to grow disconcertingly common.

How could he possibly explain it all to Zenyatta?

That Hanzo had been the only human to meet his gaze without disgust or range and not flinch away, that Ramattra had only ever seen such boldness from Zenyatta before?

That Hanzo's trust had been intoxicating to have, that every time the archer had fallen asleep resting against his chassis, it had burned and left him wanting?

That he had been happy? That through Hanzo's eyes, Ramattra had almost begun to remember why he, for all of its cruelty, had once loved the world he'd been Awakened in? 

That he could have... that they could have...

“We spent some time traveling together,” Ramattra said briefly instead, unable to look at Zenyatta directly, unsure of what the omnic might be reading from his body. 

There would be a day where he could dare to say such foolishness aloud without evisceration. Until then, he knew Zenyatta’s patience, and for once, Ramattra begged for it. Just once, a promise, as broken all his promises had begun to sound. Just this once, and next time, he would be brave.

“I suppose it is only natural for the two of us to learn some things about each other along the way, before…” a falter in his words, a crack in his attempt for nonchalance, “...Before.”

“...What happened?” Zenyatta's tone quiet, as if he did not already know the reason. As if the very same had not happened to him, all those years ago.

Still, Ramattra would humor him with the answer. In this, at least, he required no hesitation.

“I did.”