#yes ichika has dark circles

[skooorch]

Kuroo Ichika buys a new pair of volleyball shoes for her younger brother. She is in college, works and studies. Rarely visits. Very tired. Very busy.

Doesn't take care of her health as much as she should. Gets yelled at by her younger brother to eat more veggies.

Comes quietly watch her little brother play.

Ends up standing next to the Bokuto sisters. Too loud. They start cheering loudly whenever Bokuto scores. They don't actually know much about volleyball. They sure do get excited over it though.

Has to hear HEY HEY HEY

Has to hear them trash talk the other team.

Way too enthusiastic.

Then they get all upset when he gets blocked by her lil bro.

"Noooo wayyy!! That middle blocker is so annoying."

While she's super proud of her little bro for shutting the Bokuto family up.

At the end of it, she tells Kuroo he should have stuffed that Bokuto guy more, and he's the reason she now has a headache.

[renjifascinator]

Renji hate starts with every new bleach update it seems😤ಠ_ಠ. IR fanarts will come, that's inevitable and alright. But this is crossing the line. Whenever I see a Renji hate post, it breaks my heart. Please ship your ship happily as you usually do but why all the hatred towards him even after all this time?

#1: They hate Renji so much that they cannot stand him being taller than Ichigo. As if height decides the worth and personality of a person, especially a man😐.

#2: How is Renji moronic and doesn't have intellect like Ichigo?

Him and Ichigo are both different and that's ok. Someone who survived Inuzuri, got awesome grades at academy, got into Aizen's squad, survived 11th and became 6th seat, became Byakuya's vice captain and his brother-in-law and arguably the strongest lieutenant all under 40 years is not a brainless moron. Very few people reach at that level. He is a clumsy dork and that is ok and so is Ichigo. And lets not get into the argument that Ichigo is smarter so he deserves Rukia😒🙄

#3: Why are you people so petty hypocrites? You guys have no problem sympathizing with Ulquiora or Nnoitra? One was creepy af and other was a misogynist. Its Kubo's potrayal and its justified as they are villains.

How is Renji a misogynist?? Please explain. He doesn't crib that his wife is richer than him, has a very close male companion, is a gotei 13 captain, etc. On the contrary, he always supports her and is overjoyed of her achievements and proud of her. He was never jealous around Ichigo after SS arc. How many men can do that?

#4: Rukia was forced to marry him because of Byakuya? Last time I checked, the Renruki light novel, showed them dating for three years and marrying each other out of their consent. In the epilogue, Ichigo wants to ask Orihime out. Even after all the seperation and pain, Rukia forgave Renji and allowed him to court her. She chose him during the peaceful time not Ichigo. Rukia is hard to read but she has feelings as well.

#5: He rapes his wife and daughter? 🙄🙄😒😒😒😒wtf

What burns your ass when Kubo potrays him having a happy married life with his wife and daughter? He and his wife Rukia are mutually happy with each other and had a lovely daughter as their wish. Its not like Ichigo is in darkness or in perpetual rain over that. He also has a happy family with Orihime and Kazui.

#6: They cant stand the fact that his daughter considers him her favourite person in the world. They make her favour Ichigo over her dad and 'cuck him' and if not, Ichika has no right to exist¯\_ಠ_ಠ_/¯(@_@).

#7: What is this practice of calling him a loser or a cuck whenever he talks to Ichigo about his wife? How does that validate your ship? Oh yes they also say that he doesn't mind this because he has accepted this. There is a difference in self respect and self confidence. ಠ_ಠಠ_ಠಠ_ಠಠ_ಠ

#8: Both wife and daughter should leave him for no fault of his own and go to Ichigo? Doesn't that make Rukia and Ichika look like scumbags? Even Ichigo should do the same to his family. Basically they want to prove that Rukia and Ichigo are immature teenagers who have raging hormones and boners to prove their great scumbag attitude.

#9: Great fanarts where Ichigo and Rukia are committing adultery front of his crestfallen face just to torture him again and again. I m sure Ichigo and Rukia aren't that insensitive. Why do you have to assassinate the characters of your main pair? According to them, he shouldn't even be in their friends circle. Has he done something so unholy?

(ノ｀Д´)ノ彡┻━┻

#10: He doesn't respect Rukia's space and obsessed over her. If she had ended up with Ichigo, he would have not respected that and would have still been angry at them and never would have moved on. What is he? A child? 😒😒 If Rukia chose Ichigo, he would have let her go. Even the you can't remove him from her life since they are childhood friends. He would have definitely moved on eventually.😌👍

#11: He isolated her during academy🙂

He tried to meet her as much as possible. Its not his fault that she couldn't keep up with the curriculum and felt isolated. He was trying to move ahead so that he could manage a better life for both of them. Everyone learns differently and at their own pace. Its not her fault either nor she deserved loneliness. Its understandable that she will feel they were drifting apart.

#12: He let her go😤😐

If your best friend/crush gets adopted by a huge influential and political family, even if you are self confident, could you really stop them? What if they make life difficult for your friend? Would you be able to forgive yourself?

He didn't keep contact?

Because he couldn't. She was royalty now. Contact with commoners is forbidden unless the nobility says so. Plus she considered it a rejection/end of their friendship. So she didn't ask for him either even after the etiquette training she underwent for being a noble. Her rage and sadness is understandable and plus Byakuya was treating her like shit. But ofc this snob is forgiven.

#14: He took Rukia to his death and was abusive😑😠

Imagine if your former friend whom you secretly wish the best has been arrested for forfeiting basic responsibility. Also your job is on the line. What are you going to do? I agree that he wasn't having control over his emotions. Holding her neck and hitting her on the pole wasn't the right thing to do. If she was really hurt or being choked, she wouldn't have been able to shout. Also, he has never been abusive towards her. Yes sometimes he tends to forget their size difference in his excitement. That is his folly. Otherwise, he has never hit her even as children. That is not abuse. Rukia gets him back at that. Rukia sometimes hits her frnds. Isn't that abusive as well then?😒

Also wasn't Byakuya even more keen than him to ensure that she dies by hook or crook? Just because of some promise he made to his family. I don't feel like giving him a clean chit because of that weak excuse of a promise to Hisana causing Rukia personal and professional setbacks. Didn't we see that Renji never wanted to kill her? He entrusted her to the Kuchikis thinking she will have a better life and now her own brother is hell bent on killing her. Did no one see the shock, guilt and determination to save her on his face when she was actually going to be killed? He almost died to save her? Didn't that make up for everything?

After SS arc, both mended their relationship with Rukia. Both had a great relationship henceforth. But why always Byakuya is given clean chit? ¯\_ಠ_ಠ_/¯ಠಿ_ಠ

Ship your ship in peace and don't spread hate against Tite Kubo, Renji and Orihime. If you don't like it, move on and watch different anime.

[recurring-polynya]

@iz-stardust is a lovely person and a wonderful artist and I wanted to write her a little present based on this adorable drawing she did. I hope you like it, friend!

Adventures in Babysitting | ao3 | ff.net |

Summary:  When Byakuya is stuck on emergency babysitting duty, he gets an assist from Squad 10.

Starring: Toushirou, Rangiku, Byakuya, and one cranky Ichika.

Ships: Friendships as far as the eye can see!!!

Rating: General audiences, can you believe it?!? You should probably brush your teeth afterwards, tho.

❄️   🐱   🌸   🐰 

“Sir! Captain Kuchiki and, er, a guest are here to see you!”

Toushirou looked up the mission report he had been reviewing. In general, it was pretty unlikely for another captain to just drop by, and it seemed doubly unlikely for Byakuya, of all people, to do so. “Matsumoto!” he barked. “You didn’t schedule an appointment with Captain Kuchiki and then forget to tell me about it, did you?”

“Oh, Captain!” Matsumoto pouted. “You know Renji makes all of Captain Kuchiki’s appointments for him, and he would never trust me to remember something like that.”

This was very true.

“See him in!” Toushirou waved at his waiting Seventh Seat. “Try to look busy, Matsumoto!”

“I am busy!” Matsumoto gestured at the catalog in front of her. “We got budget approval for new office chairs, and I’m trying to pick out the best ones. Your hiney is going to thank me.”

“I will thank you to never mention my hiney again, Matsu-- greetings, Captain Kuchiki!”

Byakuya looked… haggard. His face was pale, his eyes shadowed by dark circles. His hair was gathered in a rather sloppy ponytail, rather than falling in it’s usual glossy waterfall. He kept shifting from one foot to the other in a semi-rhythmic fashion. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but there was a large, lumpy bundle strapped to his chest, and some sort of duffel slung across his back. Had he just returned from a harrowing mission to Hueco Mundo, perhaps?

“Hello, Captain Hitsugaya,” he said, his voice ragged with exhaustion. “I need to ask an important favor.”

“Are you all right?” Toushirou asked, jumping to his feet. “You look like you need to sit down.”

“No, no, I must remain standing.” Kuchiki excused. “As you know, I was supposed to lead the meeting of the Gotei Transparency Improvement Documentation Standards committee this afternoon, but it seems I will not be able to attend. I was hoping that, as co-chair, you would be able to take my place. I am most apologetic, and I swear, on my honor as a Kuchiki, that I will make it up to you.” An angry squall erupted from the cloth wrapped around his chest, and Kuchiki’s hand immediately moved to pat it reassuringly.

“Do you have Ichika?!” Matsumoto squealed, her eyes filling with glittering hearts and stars.

“Er, yes,” Kuchiki mumbled. “It is very unusual, of course, for Renji and Rukia to be called away together, but Kurosaki Ichigo specifically requested their assistance, and obviously, all of Soul Society owes him a great debt, so...” He trailed off in a most un-Byakuya-like fashion.

“Of course I can handle the meeting,” Toushirou reassured briskly, although he had to raise his voice to be heard over the crying, which was steadily increasing in volume. “Do you need… help… with the other matter?”

Kuchiki made a troubled face. “I had thought that my staff at the manor would be able to assist, but Ichika seemed extremely agitated to be left in their care. Strangely enough, being attached to my person is the only thing that seems to placate her. Even so, she becomes angry if I sit down or stop this infernal swaying motion.”

“Well, of course!” Matsumoto scolded. “She doesn’t know those people! You’re her special uncle! But she’s probably bored from being in that thing. Take her out and let her have a little playtime with Auntie Rangiku!”

Byakuya’s face went stiff, and his eyes narrowed judgmentally. For a moment, Toushirou feared that Byakuya was going to take issue with the non-biological nature of Rangiku’s aunthood, although he knew for a fact that Abarai and Kuchiki subscribed to the Rukongai idea of “the more aunties the better.” He, himself, had respectfully turned down a similar honorarium, although he had been secretly touched by the offer. (Momo still insisted on referring to him as ‘Uncle Shirou’ in the baby’s presence. He found that much less touching).

Rangiku, for her part, was regarding Byakuya with a look, just daring him to try it.

People, namely Rukia, kept insisting that Byakuya considered Toushirou to be his friend, but Toushirou had his doubts. Sure, they played shogi regularly, and Toushirou seemed to be the only person outside of Renji and Rukia that Byakuya ever texted, but it’s not like Toushirou really knew the guy. And yet, as he watched Byakuya’s face, he realized, like a bolt of thunder, that he recognized an emotion. He was suddenly certain, down to the marrow of his bones, that Rukia had given her brother a stern talking to on this very topic.

A few moments of obvious internal struggle went by, and then Byakuya blew a small puff of air out of his nose, and began extracting the baby from her wrappings. “I wish you luck,” he declared grimly.

Rangiku hopped up from her desk and danced over to Byakuya’s side. As the cool air hit Ichika’s face, her crying slowed, and she began to look around.

“Hello, baby!” Matsumoto trilled. Toushirou could tell she was dying to snatch the baby from Byakuya’s arms, but was holding herself back until Ichika was ready.

Ichika looked up into Byakuya’s face, her violet eyes wide and uncertain. Then she looked to Rangiku again. Then Byakuya again.

“These are the offices of Squad Ten,” Byakuya explained. “I believe you have been here before. We are guests, so you must be on your best behavior.”

Ichika looked back over at Rangiku, who was hiding the lower half of her face with her scarf. “Peekaboo!” she exclaimed, flinging the scarf away.

Ichika squealed and lunged for Rangiku (or possibly her scarf), nearly knocking Byakuya off his feet.

“Ha ha!” Matsumoto sang, spinning Ichika around. “There’s my happy girl!”

Byakuya’s entire body slumped with relief, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“You should sit down,” Toushirou suggested, pulling his chair around. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Byakuya sank gratefully into the chair and didn’t even ask any pointed questions about the tea, which is how Toushirou knew that he must be completely exhausted.

Rangiku plopped down on one of the office couches, Ichika in her lap. She dropped her scarf over the baby’s head and tickled her nose with it as Ichika laughed and laughed.

Toushirou wasn’t exactly envious of his lieutenant’s way with people, big and small, but he was grateful for it. Rangiku did friendship so easily-- ironing out disputes between squad members, throwing a birthday bash for a friend-of-a-friend-of-friend, charming cranky babies-- and yet, watching her work her magic only made him feel more special to be part of her inner circle, that she’d seen something in that scrawny kid, so hesitant to stand up for himself that long ago day in Junrinan.

“Her attention span doesn’t last very long,” Rangiku said in a sing-songy voice. “We should have a series of fun ideas lined up!”

Byakuya perked up, and unloaded the bag from his shoulder. He seemed to have forgotten it was there. “I have her Seaweed Ambassador!” he offered helpfully, pulling a stuffed…creature from the bag. “Although it did not produce the desired reaction earlier.”

“Oh, I know!” Rangiku suggested. “Have you ever seen Rukia and Renji do the ‘Big Mommy, Little Daddy’ game?”

“The what?” Byakuya and Toushirou replied in unison.

“It’s so cute! Rukia gets on a chair and makes a big deal about how she’s so tall, and Renji stands on his knees and talks about how short he is. Ichika loves it, don’t you, Ichika!”

Ichika stretched her hands above her head and blew an enthusiastic raspberry.

Matsumoto looked meaningfully at Toushirou. Then Byakuya. Then back to Toushirou.

“No,” Toushirou growled, pointing his finger at Rangiku. “It would be very-- I would-- Just, no.”

“Absolutely not,” Byakuya agreed. “Categorically not.”

Rangiku stuck out her lower lip. “You two are no fun.” She turned her attention back to her tiny charge. “Ichika, are these your toes? I didn’t know you had toes! Let me see!”

Toushirou busied himself with the tea. This, unfortunately, was also classic Matsumoto, trying to draw him into her nonsense. As if even a baby could mistake himself and Byakuya for a pair of loud, dramatic dumbasses like Renji and Rukia. No, the best thing he could possibly do is help Kuchiki get his nerves back together. Children didn’t like Toushirou. Even when he was a child himself, other children hadn’t liked him. Ghost children liked him sometimes, but that was different.

Toushirou decided that Kuchiki deserved the good gyokuro, the stuff he himself only indulged in when Matsumoto was being particularly taxing. It seemed appropriate. He let his mind clear a little so that Hyourinmaru could get the water to the perfect temperature. Hyourinmaru loved the ceremony of even a casual workday tea break. You are a kind friend, his zanpakutou rumbled in his head. Senbonzakura will appreciate this gesture. Hyourinmaru had a hard time telling the difference between Byakuya and Senbonzakura sometimes, and Toushirou had given up trying to correct him.

A memory suddenly popped into Toushirou’s head. A little ghost boy who hadn’t passed over to Soul Society because he was waiting to see the first snowfall. Toushirou had been hesitant to use his zanpakutou for such a frivolous reason, but Hyourinmaru hadn’t seemed to mind, in the end. An idea began to crystalize in his mind.

“Oh, no, baby, what’s the matter?” Matsumoto was exclaiming. “What is this sad face? Is it time to get up? Do you want Auntie Rangiku to walk with you?” Ichika had started to make little fussy noises again.

Toushirou pressed a fragrant cup of tea into Byakuya’s hand as he passed on his way over to the couch. He cleared his throat, and Ichika turned her tiny face up to his. “Hey, Ichika,” he said. “Check this out.” He opened his hand to reveal a tiny, sparkling ice sculpture in the shape of a snowman adorned with rabbit ears. Ichika’s eyes widened, and she waved her arms at it. She would have fallen off of Matsumoto’s lap, if it weren’t for his lieutenant’s quick reflexes.

“How cute, Captain!” Matsumoto cried. “Oh, lucky you, Ichika! Captain made that beautifully bunny just for you! He wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know.”

“You can touch it,” Toushirou said, crouching a little and holding his hand out. Maybe she would be interested in the feel of the ice.

“She will likely ruin it,” Byakuya warned.

“That’s okay. I made it for her.”

Byakuya took a deep inhale of his tea steam. “It is just like you,” he opined, “to put as much care into an amusement for an infant as you would into a great work of art.”

Toushirou’s ears burned, but Matsumoto just laughed. “You are so right, Captain Kuchiki! Classic Captain Hitsugaya, am I right?”

“Yes,” Byakuya agreed. “Classic Captain Hitsugaya.” He took a sip of the tea. “Truly, this tea is returning me from the brink of death. I thank you.”

“Well, I do expect you to take this baby away eventually,” Toushirou tried to grumble. It was hard to get properly grumpy when Ichika was patting his ice bunny with her fat little hands and smiling a big, gummy grin. Suddenly, she stretched her arms out toward him, and made a little whimpery sound. “Sorry, this is the only one I have,” he said.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Matsumoto suggested.

“She is mistaken,” Toushirou replied.

“Hmmm,” said Byakuya.

“I heard that! Don’t you ‘hmmm’ over there!” Toushirou snapped.

“Abarai has conjectured that Ichika is able to identify Rukia and himself by their reiatsu.”

“Stop.”

“That would be nonsense, obviously, except that she is a Kuchiki, so she is, of course, exceptional in every way.”

Matsumoto’s eyes went wide with delight. “Do you think she thinks Captain is Rukia?”

Toushirou winced.

“Of course not.”

Toushirou blew out a sigh of relief.

“I was only suggesting that he reminds her of Rukia. Because of the cold nature of--”

“Yes, yes, we get it!” Toushirou snapped.

“Oh, Captain,” Matsumoto made a frowny face at him, as Ichika’s face started to screw up in preparation for a full-throated Abarai howl.

“Fine, fine!” Toushirou sighed, handing the ice rabbit over to Rangiku before hefting Ichika up onto his hip. “There. You’re up. You happy now?”

Ichika leaned her head into his side, and patted his chest, making a comforting little cooing noise.

A high-pitched noise came out of Matsumoto, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. “You got a hug!”

“She has just started doing that,” Byakuya informed them grandly. “I, myself, have received several. It is adorable, is it not?”

Toushirou pointedly avoided looking at Matsumoto’s face, which was probably dissolving. Instead, he looked down at the sticky little gremlin who had her cheek pressed into his haori. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s pretty great.”

[inusedai]

WINTER GAMES

@arashisedai @dokusedai @namaamochi @yashakami @sasayakcu @seiinaru @kyudome @anchoredstowaways 

                                KOUGAHIME DRABBLE                              InuYasha’s Sakura Challenge

            Sango and his girls had spent the afternoon gathering them, and while the two had been learning and living with the customs and culture habits of the wolves for years, it was the way they celebrated that attracted them the most.  Mostly, their female -- but InuYasha was intrigued and fascinated as well.  His inspiration stemmed only a bit differently than Sango’s.

             She stood above them in the rock formations, overlooking the two canines below. Ahmya stood across from her; Ichika to the West and Hibana to the South. Each held a basket, and when the drums started, InuYasha’s haroi flopped into a heap of fabric; bare feet moving across the cold stone to the center of the formation.  The mid-wife of the pack, a wizened old woman Yashitake-baba, was dressed in furs and bones that swished and tinkled as she wrapped a cloth around Kouga’s eyes. “I take from you, young prince -- your sight. Not that you will suffer without it, hm? Prepare your senses yorozoku, for you are about to be under siege.” 

Above them, Hibana scoffed and Ichika giggled softly, a tinkling of bells that ruined the severity of the moment, but no one was genuinely upset or even bothered to react. Sango smiled and Ahmya habitually rolled berries in her claws.  Golden eyes watched his female and their children above them for a solid beat, then took a breath and looked down to see his male. His Kouga -- armor removed and strong body on display with fur complimenting the tanned, broad expanse of skin the man was a vision... Or a trap, as Yashitake has advised, InuYasha couldn’t afford to be distracted during this particular GAME.

Yashitake-baba moved away from the Alpha, but her words carried as the drums took on a building crescendo. A few wolves howled; the old mothers words couldn’t be drowned even as snow began to fall. “A challenge of strength and speed -- a test of devotion and spirit. A display of love and heart.” Wrinkled hands lifted, stained with tattoos, scars and sun-spots; fur swished and shifted as she reached for the sky from the bottom of the rock formation. 

“A hunt for berries provided by your mate and children, they honor you Alpha and stand above you now; the heart of this pack. Do you trust your pack?” Her hands came down, and a little girl with a bumbling brown pup at her heels, stepped forward with a broken open skull, full of dark red juice from the berries. 

                                   “Yes.”

Old fingers dipped, clawed tipped smeared across Kouga’s chest, and the wolf inhaled sharply. Yashitake-baba croaked a chuckle, “I was there to take the afterbirth from your crown, and here I stand to take from you now, young prince -- your ability to scent. Not that you would suffer without it.” The drums became only slightly louder, and the wolves surrounding their Alpha and his mate, down below now came to fill in the gaps between Sango, Ahmya, Hibana and Ichika. Above them, ringed around the mouth of the rock formation, the wolves beheld the scene below, backdropped by the expanse of a cloudless sky.  InuYasha swallowed, his claws flexing against his palms as he waited -- heart in his throat. 

He’d been practicing, and known about this tradition months in advance -- had even taken to special lessons from Yashitake-baba. As if sensing his thoughts, the Old Mother turned to pin him with a knowing, milky brown stare. InuYasha dipped his chin, but his chest expanded and his shoulders nose. 

“Your mate stands before you, the wolf at your back and he comes to protect you; he is large and powerful. But can he protect you, this pack -- from an army of 300 for 3 days. Do you trust your mate?”

                                     “Yes.”

The drums became deafening; the little girl and her puppy moved back into the shadows within the rock formations belly. The Old Mother was stepping back to, and before it became too loud, she said, “I take from you, your ability to hear! You are in absolutely trust of your pack. Your family. You are in protection of your mate... THE BATTLE BEGINS!”

Chanting, howling and drums exploded into the air -- music and spirit rising from the East so loud it sounded like thunder and war. InuYasha’s ears snapped back and he opened his claws, stepping towards Kouga and into the ring of light from the mouth of the rocks above. He looked up, heart in his throat and seen Sango. Bright dark eyes were excited, but just as nervous as he was. A smile passed between them and with a roll of her Ichika’s eyes, the berries from all around began to fall. Raining down onto Kouga.

Or would have, had the hanyo not sprang into motion. His claws swept and sliced, spraying juice across the stone floor and jagged walls; he circled Kouga with as much grace as he could. A creature of the wild, he moved in arching springs, twisting lunges and rolling pivots. A blur of movement that almost seemed trance-like with paired with the drums -- the energy of the wolves around them.  They kicked up such a fuss InuYasha had to rely solely on his eyesight; his instincts.  Kouga, was forced to remained. To trust in InuYasha. 

A sacred rite.  A traditional display of love, strength, protection, devotion and trust. 

                        Not a single berry touched the Alpha’s skin.                         Not a single drip of juice that hadn’t been applied and dried before hand to catch discolored additions, could be seen by the time it was over, And when it was, InuYasha rose from a crouch as Kouga removed his blindfold. Heat billowed from his mouth in clouds as sweat steamed from his bare shoulders. Covered in berries, it was in his hair; in his mouth, under his claws and staining the soles of his feet. 

Their eyes met, as the blindfold hit the floor and InuYasha snickered as the entire Pack went up in roars, whoops of impressed accomplishment and celebration. 

Even Ahmya clapped and howled her joy.

[mcmedianoche]

“La Oscuridad Te Espera” (Chapter 1) - Sombra/McCree

Another demon-hunter... but not just any old demon-hunter. This is Jesse McCree: a legend, a myth, a series of stories in his own right.

Sombra sighs, downing the rest of her drink. This had to happen sometime. “I must be getting sloppy,” she says, her voice as smooth as syrup. “If you’re here for me, I’ve made it easy for you, McCree.”

“Papa Reinhardt, is it true?”

“Is what true, child?”

A tall, freckled girl, no older than 14, bounds up to a nearby table and whispers to the huge, scarred, silver-haired man sat comfortably there. “They say there are demons in this village. Angry spirits. The oni are here. Is that why we’re here? Are you going to fight them?” She looks over at another table, where a short, full-bearded blond man and a tall, voluptuous blonde woman share drinks and a bowl of bread. “Does Papa know?”

The man laughs, rumbling the table but holding his huge stein of beer steady so as not to knock it off the table in his amusement. “Nonsense, Brigitte. Where did you hear that?”

She falters for a moment, smoothing her thick auburn ponytail behind her as she looks around the tavern, then seems to find her resolve as she looks at the locals. “The villagers… It’s all they’ve talked about, all night. Something is destroying the castle at the edge of town. All who go near it are lost. They say…” and here, she lowers her voice, “they say, at night... there are dragons. ”

Reinhardt takes a few sips from his stein and beckons Brigitte to sit down. “We are here for a family vacation, because Hanamura is beautiful this time of year. The oni are just an ancient legend. Only stories.”

Brigitte doesn’t accept this, scooting in closer at the table and staring Reinhardt in the eye. “All stories begin in truth,” she insists. “Do you know this one?”

Sombra grins beneath her hood, shading her glowing, white-gold eyes from view. It’s merely on instinct, as she is currently invisible in the corner of the tavern behind them. She takes a sip of her whiskey, the glass also invisible in her clutches, and waits. The mortals rarely have a clue in these matters. This ought to be good.

“Well, there are as many tales of the oni as we have ghost stories in Germany. Or Sweden. But yes, I have heard this one, specifically.”

Brigitte’s big brown eyes light up. She puts both elbows on the table, rests her face in her palms, and settles in.

“Long ago, these lands were ruled by a powerful family who had two sons. Warrior princes, trained to carry on the family legacy. Both skilled beyond their years, both well equipped to lead, and each powerful in their own right. But they disagreed, profoundly so, when it came time to decide how they would protect their land. The younger brother, sweet of heart and warm in temperament, wanted to keep his people happy, above all else. He said, ‘If we care for our people, they will care for each other in turn. If we can nurture one heart, one land, the rest will come naturally.’”

Sombra snorts into her glass. This is already bullshit.

“The elder brother, iron of will and steady in disposition, wanted to keep his people strong, above all else. He said, ‘With the right foundation, our people will be united towards a common goal. To keep them happy at structure’s expense is a fool’s errand. We must instead keep them in control. ‘The rest,’ as you say, will come because we steered it so.’”

“Head versus heart,” Brigitte whispered. “The worst struggle.”

Reinhardt nods, clapping her on the shoulder. “Yes. As you can see, they were two very important sides of the same coin. In order to rule, both were necessary, but neither could see it. And so, the elder struck down his brother, believing him weak. But this hurt the elder brother beyond measure, warping his already weak heart so badly that he began to transform. The mark of the oni spread across his skin, leaving a demon face, and turning his skin gray and his eyes white. The spirits that roamed this land did not approve of his actions, for he had upset the balance.”

“You can’t have one without the other,” Brigitte said solemnly, her palms now flat on the table.

“No, you can’t. And that is why the spirits went one step further, bringing the younger brother back to life to restore this balance. But he, with his heart too full, was forever wounded by the offense, and returned as… something else. Transformed, much like his brother, with the kindness that once cradled his heart now twisted. But balance has yet to be restored. The oni they say inhabit the old castle...”

“The brothers. They’re still there.”

Reinhardt finishes off his beer. “And still fighting, so they say. But these are just stories, Brigitte. Legends and myths.”

Well. Sombra has to admit: part of the story is actually true. But the people are romantic, and the nature of the demon brothers’ torment has been lost to sentiment. Sombra knows she isn’t tracking some wounded soul with a heart too big for his body. The oni known as Genji is as selfish as any other, and was brought back to life for reasons just as selfish. Dragons’ fiery egos are easily offended.

Either way, what Genji wants does not matter, and neither does his brother. Genji is her bounty. Until the banshee’s price also includes Hanzo’s wretched soul, he is of no consequence to her.

She’s waiting here for proper nightfall. Once the clock strikes midnight, and this tavern closes to the public, she can make her way to Shimada Castle. There is only one hour to go.

Brigitte yawns, despite herself. “If they’re only stories, why are the people so scared?”

“People fear all kinds of things they don't understand. Do not trouble yourself.”

“But--”

“Come now, Brigitte. It is very late and I think we are both getting tired.” Reinhardt calls over to the next table and notifies the blond couple that it is time they all head back to the inn, citing Brigitte’s bedtime over her increasingly drowsy protests.

Sombra watches them leave. They were the last patrons.

She shifts, dropping her invisibility, then approaches the bar, glass in hand. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Thank you, if you pull this off. The oni are scaring my customers away.” The owner of the bar, Ichika, a much older woman with one thick black streak in her long gray hair, rolls her eyes and whips her towel for emphasis. “I remember when they were mortals, you know. It wasn’t that long ago, but you know how these things get once stories start to spread. They were handsome young men, beautiful even, but an idiot and an asshole.”

Sombra laughs. “Ay, I’ve heard Genji used to be a charmer! A charmer can’t be that stupid, can he? Mierda, don’t tell me my intel was wrong. I’ll have to rethink my whole strategy.”

“A charmer, yes! Absolutely. But a slave to his whims. Foolhardy at every turn, and his father only made things worse by coddling him. And Hanzo was no fun at all, but at least he always sprung for the good sake. The two of them kept me in business, and now they’re pushing me out of it!”

The bell above the tavern’s entrance suddenly dings with its jaunty little melody. Sombra, knowing it’s too late to shift into invisibility, chances a lighting-quick glance at the newcomer.

Oh. Oh, this just got interesting.

A ruggedly good-looking man in a wide-brimmed hat steps through the door, his eyes shielded from view. A crossbow hangs on his back, and an ornate revolver rests at his hip. He has one prosthetic arm that seems to be made of silver and fire, and he’s strapped with silver bullets. His getup is actually rather similar to her own, Sombra thinks, considering herself, down to the red scarf hung loosely around his neck.

Another demon-hunter... but not just any old demon-hunter. This is Jesse McCree: a legend, a myth, a series of stories in his own right.

Well, Sombra sighs, downing the rest of her drink. This had to happen sometime. “I must be getting sloppy,” she says, her voice as smooth as syrup. “If you’re here for me, I’ve made it easy for you, McCree.”

McCree lifts his head and looks at her with far more surprise than she expects. He takes a drag from his cigar, then pulls it from his mouth with that unmistakable arm of his. ”Sombra?”

Ichika looks back and forth between them. “You two know each other? Ah, of course you do. Can’t be a big circle, your line of work.”

McCree struts over to the bar with his hands on his belt. “Know of. A gorgeous shadow demon who hunts other demons without remorse? Yeah, there’s only one of her. The rest have this thing about loyalty to their kind, or whatever.”

Sombra lifts an eyebrow and flutters dark eyelashes over her white-gold eyes. “Aww, they say I’m gorgeous?”

McCree meets her cheeky gaze with an amused grin of his own, staring for a long moment as the smirk spreads across Sombra’s face. “Nah, I added that part.”

Ichika swats the bar between them with her towel, startling them both. “Stop flirting long enough to kill the demons, if you would be so kind.”

“No worries, ma’am,” McCree says, tipping his hat. “I don’t flirt with demons, but I do have eyes.”

“And I don’t flirt with people who make those kinds of hairstyle choices, because I, too, have eyes,” Sombra snorts with a glance at his ponytail. McCree splutters in offense, but she laughs and goes on, “So, you’re here to step on my bounty? That’s a much bigger problem than if you were here for me, McCree.” She turns on her bar stool, revealing the hybrid pistol and crossbow resting on her lap.

“If your bounty is the oni Hanzo, then yes, I am. And I’ve slain bigger demons than you before breakfast,” he replies, dropping his hand near his revolver. “If not, then I believe we’re square.”

“NO SHOOTING IN MY TAVERN!” Ichika shrieks, whipping the towel around violently to separate them.

“Ow! Relajate, Ichi--”

“Sorry, ma’am, I’m sorry--”

Ichika stares them both down until they settle in their seats, sneaking heated glances at each other, but saying nothing.

“I don’t know who hired each of you, or how you ended up here on the same night, but don’t you dare screw this up. Sombra catches Genji. McCree catches Hanzo. My customers return. Don’t -- I mean it, DON’T! -- get in each other’s way, and we’ll all be happy.”

She stares at them again, silently, but no less stern, until they’re both glaring at each other in a resigned sort of way.

“Si, Ichika.”

“You got it, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, she’s already had hers, but I bet you stopped in for a drink, so here’s one for the road,” Ichika says, filling a shot glass for McCree. “You both get another round if you come back here alive.”

Their tempers are cooling, now that they know they’re here for different demons, but Sombra’s stuck on Ichika’s words. Judging from the curious look McCree’s giving her over his glass, he’s thinking the same thing.

Who hired him, and how did they both end up here on the same night?

He sets his empty glass on the bar, then stands and gestures towards the door. “After you. I got enough demons without adding another one at my back.”

Sombra laughs, the sound dark and not at all amused when she slides off her bar stool, and shifts, disappearing from sight. She savors the look of alarm on McCree’s face.

Demons can’t do that, and he knows it.

She waits a few moments, moving silently around him, then stands on her toes and speaks at the back of his neck. “Looks like you’re in over your head.”

McCree shivers at the feel of her breath against his ear, the only physical indication of his shock that he will allow. He whips around just in time to see her shift back into view. She turns and saunters towards the exit, resting her gun on her shoulder, then glances back to flash those glowing eyes at him before she opens the door.

“Get a move on, McCree,” she says, beckoning him closer with one claw-gloved finger. “We don’t have all night.”