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He never got the full story. Late one evening, they parted ways in front of the Shimada Castle’s great gates after a date with a quick kiss and a promise to meet again the next day for lunch and the arcade. When Zenyatta approached the gates the next day, he was met with stone-faced security guards armed with a gun on one hip and a omnic taser on the other. He was barely 10 steps from the gate before the guards threatened violence if he did not clear the premises.
He tried messaging Genji, then calling him when there were no answers for hours. The radio silence and beefed up security had Zenyatta on edge all day.
That same evening saw the Shimbali on a flight back to Nepal, bags hastily packed and the words of the Shimada elders ringing in his ears. You are no longer welcome in Hanamura. Be gone by morning or face the might of the clan. If Mondatta knew more to the story, he refused to say anything, but the deep-set crease of worry between his brows told Zenyatta plenty. Something had shifted within the Shimada clan, of what he had not the faintest clue, but something drastic enough to not be concerned with the political ramifications of chasing a religious guest out of the country.
Zenyatta watched the clouds drift by beneath his window somberly. He had tried to call Genji one last time while waiting for their flight in the airport. When the call was actually answered, Zenyatta’s heart leapt to his throat but before he could get a word out, a gruff, older voice snapped at him. Never contact this number again, omnic filth.
The line cut out and Zenyatta was left with an empty pit inside him. Is this my fault? Has my true identity caused the wrath of the Shimada clan to come down on Genji’s head? He hoped not, he hoped beyond hope that he was causing his friend- boyfriend? Something they never really talked about, now that he thought about it- to be put under lockdown.
On the plane, Zenyatta’s forehead rested against the window of the plane. Farewell Genji, dearest, may the Iris bless our paths so that they may one day soon cross again.
--
It was the little things that brought the unbidden memories of Zenyatta to the forefront of Genji’s mind in the years that passed his “death”. They would come when he was drifting between doses of painkillers as he laid in his bed in the medical wing. The time Zen beat his high score on one of the machines at the arcade and Genji had spent the rest of the evening working to get it back, all while Zenyatta leaned against his back to watch over his shoulder and quip at him on how he should have jumped there, or that there was a health pack behind that wall.
The flash of yellow on Angela’s hair as she passed through sunlight might remind him of Zen’s eyes that one time he transcended to save those douchebags.
He was usually able to keep his head when training, but one time when he had finished on the practice range, a service omnic was sent in to clean up the remains of the practice dummies without his knowledge. It rounded the corner and Genji’s adrenaline soared at the sudden appearance of a new combatant but as he dashed forward more out of reflex than conscious decision, the omnic looked up at him and flinched back in fear and oh gods that’s him it’s zen it’s him I can't-
They blamed the panic attack that followed on overtaxing his new systems. He never corrected them.
Maybe it got easier as the years passed. Maybe it was because he was always busy between training his new body, Blackwatch missions, and systematically hunting down and destroying his family’s shitty empire. Or maybe it was because as time passed it has harder to recall his laugh, his smile, the feel of his hands or lips. Maybe it was that, but it was easier to accept that he was just busy, not that he was slowly forgetting his first true love.
--
Zenyatta rededicated himself to his lessons once he was back in Nepal. He had touched the Iris in Hanamura, he had felt the universe flow through him, and he had saved that boy against all the odds. If he was capable of repeating that action, then he must.
So he worked. His lessons with Mondatta were often and intense, he might meditate for days on end to align himself with the universe once more. He volunteered his time to help the village and to help educate the children, and if sometimes one of his brothers or sisters caught him staring off into the mountain peaks in the distance, he would be quick to wave away their concern.
Monks were not supposed to have much in the way of worldly possessions. His attachment was to the life around him, not some trinkets. But if he happened to have a small wooden box in his room that contained his cell phone with a Pachimarhi phone charm hanging on the corner that had been won for him and a dried lotus flower from the Shimada gardens in it, then who was to know?
And if sometimes after a long day Zenyatta decided to skip his nightly meditation in favor of going through the contents of the box and flipping through the pictures on his phone, who was there to judge him?
As the years passed and Zenyatta became close to being a master, Mondatta would leave his training to the other masters as he left to lead peace talks and be a public voice of hope and unity. Zenyatta never faulted him for not bringing him on any more diplomatic missions, not really. For now, his place was at the Monastery, completing his training and forming his own philosophies about how the Shambali could be helping people.
--
Genji looked for Zenyatta when he could. He watched the news broadcasts that featured the Shambali, but Zenyatta never seemed to be part of the ensemble that Mondatta would bring to the large public appearances and speeches.
Some days, most days, he wondered why he even bothered looking for Zen. He wasn’t the same man that the monk had fallen for back in Hanamura. His body was different, his life was a mess of violence and despair on the bad days, idle training and medical exams on the good days. He was starting to be able to joke with some Overwatch members, like Jesse and Angela, but it was still hard for him.
He considered trying to send a message to Zenyatta, but every time he sat down to compose the message he would be left with a blank screen waiting for him to explain away the years of silence. He never could find the right words.
--
They had warned Mondatta that King’s Row was a dangerous place for omnic sympathizers, but he had argued that was even more of a reason to go. They had to start rebuilding the human-omnic relations there and try to help their cause. That the city wanted to see a change as well made it the perfect place for Mondatta to go to endorse the new buildings and help spread unity amongst all citizens.
Zenyatta agreed with his master, but even he saw the dangers of going to such a place. Zenyatta caught up with Mondatta after his meeting with the rest of the masters, most of whom were trying to dissuade Mondatta from making the trip.
“Mondatta, a word if I may,” Zenyatta fell in step with the man, their footsteps echoing through the courtyard.
“Of course, my student, though I will not be able to call you that for much longer. How has your training been with Master Unami,” Mondatta inquired.
“It’s going well master, she believes I will be ready for the final trial by the end of the year,” Zenyatta’s orbs give a happy flip from their slow orbit around him, “I would love to discuss it more over tea sometime, but I wanted to ask about King’s Row.”
“Ah, are you here to get your old master to see reason and postpone the peace talks until the city has settled, hm?” The sarcasm was thick in his voice, obviously tired of having this conversation with the other monks.
“Ah, no, actually I’m glad you are going. The city needs our help, the omnics there need our help. What I actually wanted to ask was, well,” Zenyatta’s orbs shrunk in their rotation, giving away his nerves, “I wish to go with you.”
Mondatta stopped and looked down at Zenyatta, the apprehension clear on his face, “My student, you are so close to becoming a master, why would you want to put that off to come to King’s Row?”
“I will always have time to finish my training, but others need us more right now,” Zenyatta’s orbs gave a quick spin around him, shining brightly for a second before settling back down. He needed Mondatta to see, he needed to understand.
Mondatta patted his shoulder and continued walking, Zenyatta falling into pace beside him again, “I understand your concern, but you are needed here, my student. Including myself, the monastery will already be down four members when we leave.”
“Someone else can teach the village children while I’m gone, and I can still do my meditations while we are away. I just, Mondatta, please!” Zenyatta grabbed his master’s wrist, the sudden overwhelming need for Mondatta to listen to him overriding his conscious thought.
Mondatta stopped and looked at Zenyatta in surprise, the air hanging heavy between them. Zenyatta immediately dropped his wrist and felt his face heat in embarrassment, “My apologies, Master, that was out of line.”
Mondatta sighed deeply, “Zenyatta, you know why you must stay here. Even after five years, you are still not over what happened in Hanamura. You are growing here, pushing limits I never thought possible.” He gestured out across the mountain range, flushed green with summer, “This is where you belong. The world is looking to us more and more, and it needs to see what we’ve built here, what you have helped us build here.”
“The only ones looking are the ones who do not need the guidance we offer,” Zenyatta countered, “They look to us because they also believe in the equality of omnics and humans. The ones who need it the most, the ones who fight back and believe I am just a machine meant to serve, they are the ones who need us the most. And we cannot reach them by staying secluded in some mountains.”
“Which is precisely why I am going to King’s Row, and you are staying here,” Mondatta stated firmly, his waning patience clear in his voice, “One cannot exist without the other. The people need to see both our presence in the world and how we exist in peace here, in our home.” Mondatta ran a hand over his face and Zenyatta was struck with just how tired his master actually looked. He felt guilty for pressing him so hard.
Zenyatta bowed his head, “Yes, Master, you are right. My apologies. I just miss being out in the world and feeling like I’m actually making a difference in people’s lives.”
“Are the children you provide an education to up here not important,” Mondatta inquired, a small knowing smile replacing his tired expression, “or the initiates whom you lead through their early stages of training?”
Zenyatta’s head snapped up, “No, of course not! I mean, of course, they are I just-”
Mondatta laughed and waved off Zenyatta’s panic, “Calm yourself, my student. Please, Zenyatta, I leave in the morning and I do not wish our parting words to be full of venom. You mentioned tea earlier, why don’t we do that and you can tell me how your training has been going?”
Zenyatta pursed his lips, the obvious change of topic weighing on him, but he decided against pushing it farther. This was Mondatta’s decision to make, and Zenyatta would respect that.
--
Genji hated himself for his untimely relapse when Null Sector took over King’s Row. He wanted to be out there, not with the golden boys that Morrison sent out, but his Blackwatch crew that was in charge of covertly finding and rescuing the hostages while the golden boys took out the anti-aircraft weapons.
Mondatta was one of the hostages. If Genji could just get to him, maybe the Shambali leader could deliver a message to him, that is if they could put their, er, tumultuous history aside.
But no, Genji couldn’t even stand up against a cadet on the practice range. She was fast, sure, but the last few days had seen Genji bedridden more often than not. A series of complications with his cybernetics and his own mental health failing had secured him a spot in the medical wing while the troops were deployed to save King’s Row.
He thought about giving a message to Jesse, but it felt too intimate, and somehow too insincere at the same time. At least that’s what he told himself to try and stop the thoughts of coward and liar from drowning him while watching the news coverage from the safety of his bed in the hospital wing.
He resolved to never let his own failings bring him so low again. This was his first real chance to find out what happened to Zenyatta but he couldn’t even get out of bed. He needed to be stronger, he needed to figure out a better way to cope with his demons so that he could be independent again. He couldn't rely on Overwatch to support him forever.
Maybe he would pick meditation back up. He had hated it as a boy when his father made him and Hanzo sit for hours as part of their training. It taught patience, and the more difficult poses had built core strength, but as a boy, Genji had never really appreciated it. Too many wasted hours of forced stillness, a waste of his time. At least, that’s what he had thought at the time, but now, a few hours away from his own thoughts sounded like heaven.
--
Once Zenyatta achieved the rank of Master, he couldn’t help his heart from wandering from the monastery. It was his home, it was a safe haven from the hatred the world showed his kind, but Zenyatta wanted more out of life.
He was more vocal about his beliefs. After the hell that was King’s Row, he felt more strongly than ever that the Shambali needed to make more of an effort to make personal connections. It was with individual people that real change came from.
The other masters would agree with him, but never really wanted to do anything about it. As the days, weeks, months passed, Zenyatta felt more and more trapped. He needed to leave, if only for a short while. His home was still with the Shambali, but now that he was a Master, he was granted a certain amount of freedoms.
He planned a short journey, mostly traveling Nepal and the villages in India and China that were near the border. It would take him 6 months at the most. Zenyatta spent nearly every evening he had free planning out his journey: where he would stop, what he needed to bring, how much money he might need.
When he felt the plans were as finished as they were going to be, he brought them before Mondatta. Technically Zenyatta was at a rank now that he did not need to ask permission of his old master, just inform him that he would be gone; but Zenyatta still respected the older man, even if their viewpoints had drifted apart.
Even though Mondatta was not too happy with Zenyatta’s request to leave, he did not try to dissuade Zenyatta from leaving. His need to leave was left unspoken but understood, which Zenyatta appreciated greatly.
--
Genji left Overwatch in the dead of night with nothing but the clothes on his back and a small satchel of essential items he had been stashing away for the last few months. He finally felt like he was at a good place both physically and emotionally to become independent once more.
He was leaving behind good friends and the ruins of his family’s once-great empire, but he would not let himself look back. He needed to do this, and the winds of change had started blowing. The public opinion of Overwatch was turning, and Genji did not want to be around when the world decided Overwatch was more of a menace than it was worth.
He knew it wasn’t fair to those that had helped him. He felt guilty over leaving Angela and Jesse. The three of them had really become inseparable once Genji finally got his head out of his ass and allowed himself to have friends again. He hated leaving his commander at such a tumultuous time too, but for once in his life, Genji was going to control his own life.
For the first time in his life, he had full control of his life. No clan elders to tell him he was disgracing the clan, no Hanzo to try where the elders failed to stop Genji from trying to enjoy a normal goddamn life, and no Overwatch commanders to tell him when and where he should be at every moment of his day.
He wasn’t really sure where he was going, but it would be his decision, and that’s what mattered the most to him.
--
Zenyatta sat under a large fig tree off the side of the road. The heat at midday was a bit too much for him, and without a cloud in the sky to offer any shelter, Zenyatta had opted to meditate in the shade until his systems had cooled enough to continue walking to the next village.
The bark of the tree felt rough against his back, but it was a pleasant and grounding sensation. He was glad he couldn’t sweat because he was sure that his kayasa would be soaked by now. Even still, the shade was pleasant and the countryside was quiet.
Zenyatta faintly registered the sound of footsteps approaching in the distance, but he kept his eyes closed and let his mind drift back to meditation. He was next to a road after all, even if it was a fairly untraveled road.
He was brought out of his concentration when the footsteps suddenly stopped near him. Perhaps the stranger was curious as to why a monk was sitting on the side of the road. Zenyatta smiled and opened his eyes, ready to greet the stranger when the words caught in his throat. The stranger was… omnic? No that wasn’t quite right. At first glance, he might have been one of the more advanced models, but something about his aura told Zenyatta there was more to the stranger.
He smiled and waved, “Greetings, traveler. Would you care to join me in the shade?”
The stranger hesitated, and Zenyatta could feel the discord rolling off him in waves. Even as finely tuned as he was to the emotions of others, he struggled to parse through all the different emotions the stranger was emitting. Pain, fear, anxiety, confusion, and joy ? Now that was a strange emotion to be mixed up in the whirlwind of negative.
At last, the stranger nodded and stepped off the road. He came and sat in the shade, slinging off his travel pack to lean up against the base of the tree. Zenyatta smiled and offered his hand, “I am Tekhartha Zenyatta, but please just call me Zenyatta.”
The stranger shook his hand briefly before pulling his hand back quickly, as if he was uncomfortable with the contact, “I know who you are,” he stated, and the lilt of his filtered voice struck Zenyatta’s core. He sounded so familiar, so much like Genji that it made Zenyatta ache. An unfortunate coincidence.
Zenyatta tilted his head, hoping his momentary panic had not shown on his face, “Oh? I hope you’ll forgive me if we’ve met before and I have forgotten. I have been traveling a while and I’m not the best with faces,” he gave a small laugh, trying to regain his composure.
“This isn’t the face you would recognize,” the stranger shrugged and reached up with both hands to just behind his temples and Zenyatta could hear a quiet click then hiss of depressurization.
He brought his faceplate down and Zenyatta’s core jumped . Though the face was older, and severely scarred, he would know those soft brown eyes anywhere, “... Genji? ” His voice was barely above a whisper, his internal processors unable to keep up with all the information he was trying to process. How? What happened? Why now? Was this real?
“In the flesh, well, a bit of me at least,” Genji tried to joke, but it sounded strained. Zenyatta stared dumbly at him, his limbs frozen in place until his processors finally caught up with himself and shocked laughter started bubbling out of him, joy winning out over all other emotions.
“It’s really you,” Zenyatta beamed, feeling lighter than he had in years, “I can’t believe- how did you find me? What are you even doing in India?” He was so giddy he was bouncing in his seat, his cheeks aching from smiling so hard.
Genji’s posture relaxed a tad and he smiled at Zenyatta, something that Zenyatta was sure he would never see again and he felt as if he could fly, “Dumb luck, actually. I’ve been traveling, making my way East. I saw you sitting on the side of the road and I thought for sure I was hallucinating. What are you doing out here on your own? Mondatta’s not gonna descend from this tree and kick my ass for talking with his student again, right?” Genji laughed and Zenyatta was sure he had never heard a noise so beautiful.
“No, I am alone. I am, uh, taking a break from the monastery. I’ve been traveling for the last couple months, helping where I can and making connections with people to help bring equality for omnics. And I am a student no longer,” he was almost able to keep the pride out of his voice, almost, “I am a Master in the Shambali order.”
“That’s great Zen, congrats,” Genji smiled then hesitated for a moment before gently patting Zenyatta’s knee.
Zenyatta longed to reach out and pull Genji into a hug, the small contact just received suddenly not enough. It’s him, it’s really him. Zenyatta coughed to try and mask his internal struggles to be closer to Genji, “Thank you. Mondatta is still my master, as he is the leader of the Shambali, but we are on more equal terms now. He, ah, did not exactly bless this journey of mine but he did not try to stop me either. But, I think I’m rambling now. What about you…?”
He hesitated, his eyes flicking down to the deep scars running across Genji’s once smooth skin. Genji turned his face away, choosing instead to look at the road, a faint flush on his skin. Of course he had noticed Zenyatta’s look. Stupid, Zenyatta chided himself. What ever happened had been bad, that much was obvious. It was probably a touchy subject.
Genji sighed and looked down at his metal faceplate in his hands, “That last night we saw each other, Hanzo attacked me.”
Zenyatta gasped, shocked by the words so softly spoken but conveying so much emotion. Betrayal, rage, sorrow, all mixed into Genji’s aura in a discordant haze, “Hanzo? But why?”
“The clan ,” Genji spit the word, “they saw me as a liability to their precious criminal empire and ordered Hanzo to deal with me. The ultimate test of loyalty, or whatever I guess. He was too much of a coward to finish me off though, and I was found by some undercover agents of Overwatch. They brought me back with them and a doctor there fixed me up best she could. Ever since I’ve been tearing down my family’s empire piece by piece. The only one left now is Hanzo, but for the life of me I can’t track him down. So here I am now, wandering, no family and no purpose.”
Zenyatta felt despair bubble up in him at hearing what Genji’s life had become. While he was hidden away from the world learning such trivial things like proper meditation techniques Genji was dragged through Hell and back.
Zenyatta started to reach out before he stopped himself, the small shake in his hands giving away his emotional state, “Genji, can I hug you?”
Genji looked back at him, shocked. He only hesitated for a second before nodding. Zenyatta scooted closer and pulled Genji into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and felt Genji’s arms circle his waist in a familiar gesture he never thought he would experience again. Genji had grown over the years, his shoulders broader and his chest more defined.
They sat like that for a long time, the air heavy with things unsaid. Zenyatta was the first to break the contact. He leaned back far enough to look at Genji, but not enough to fully break their hug, “Genji, dear, I am so sorry for never finding you. You never should have gone through all of this alone.”
“Zen, no,” Genji breathed out, bringing a hand up to cup Zenyatta’s face. He ran a thumb over his cheek, “If there’s a single person who can’t be blamed for all the shit I went through, it’s you.”
“But, but what if your family found out you were dating an omnic and that’s what finally forced their hand,” as he said it, Zenyatta realized just how plausible that actually was. His relationship with Genji might have caused his near-death by his own brother’s hand. Zenyatta felt the telltale prickling at the corners of his eyes and cursed his newest upgrade. Why they thought the ability to cry was a good addition to his disguise module was beyond him.
Genji searched for words, unsure how to respond to something he himself had considered over a hundred times over the years, “I- I don’t know what ticked my family off enough to issue the order. I don’t want to know. And it’s not like there’s anyone left to tell me.”
Zenyatta winced at the thought of Genji going through and systematically eliminating his family in revenge. Genji must have noticed, because he ripped himself away from Zenyatta and quickly stood, “Yeah, that’s right, I’ve killed a lot of people Zen. Nearly all of them directly related to me. I kill, and I kill, but these feelings never go away.”
Genji stalked around in the shade, twitching like an angry cat backed up in a corner, “This is me now! I’m not the man you met in Hanamura, hell I’d barely call myself a man anymore, with how much machinery is needed to keep me alive.”
An icy hand gripped Zenyatta’s core at the hateful words. He slowly got to his feet and stared Genji down, “Is that what constitutes a man? The lack of machinery?”
Genji froze in place, realizing his mistake far too late. He looked at Zenyatta with guilt plain on his face, “Shit, no I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant like personally. No, fuck, that’s not right either-”
Zenyatta raised a hand and Genji’s mouth snapped shut, “Please, this will get us nowhere.”
Genji spun on his heels and let out a frustrated growl. He stalked over to the base of the tree and kicked it once, making the branches shake, “This is exactly what I’m talking about! I’m angry all the time, I can’t sleep, I can’t think . I’ve killed everyone responsible for my shitty fucking life except for my shitty fucking brother but I can’t fucking find him to finish the damn job so I’m just- just- argghhhhhh! ”
Genji threw his hands up in the air and collapsed back against the tree. Zenyatta considered for a moment before he stepped forward and gently took Genji’s hands in his own. Genji looked down at him, his aura a swirling mess of emotions, “Genji, come back to Nepal with me.”
“... what?” Genji asked, his voice suddenly quiet.
“You don’t have to, of course, but maybe the monastery can help you. You can find yourself there, and maybe even figure out what you’re supposed to do with your life now. But this time, you wouldn’t be alone,” Zenyatta looked up at him. Genji had grown taller too. Only an inch or two, but now their height difference was even more noticeable.
Genji looked down at their hands. Zenyatta could feel the energy buzzing under his skin just looking for an outlet, “I’m not sure if you remember, but Mondatta isn’t exactly the biggest fan of me-”
“Mondatta can shove it,” Zenyatta replied immediately, pulling a startled laugh from Genji. He flushed at his gut reaction but pushed on, “all are welcome with the Shambali. Besides, I am a master just as he is and if I say you can stay then there’s nothing he can do about it.”
Genji smiled down at Zenyatta, his anger from earlier sliding away, “Yeah, ok, I’ll do it. Maybe some time away from the rest of the world will do me some good. And I think there’s a certain omnic monk who lives there that I’ve been dying to see again,” Genji wiggled his eyebrows and Zenyatta couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh really, and who would that be,” Zenyatta smiled when Genji’s arms moved to circle his waist again.
“No one you know, I’m sure,” Genji replied, falling back into their banter easily, “but he’s got a laugh like wind chimes and this annoying habit to know exactly what you’re feeling even before you do.”
Zenyatta looped his arms around Genji’s neck and leaned against him, their weight held up by the tree, “Huh, the monastery is a small place. I think I would have met someone like that.”
“Nah, he’s got a penitent for wandering off into trouble,” Genji grinned when Zenyatta huffed.
“Incorrigible.”
“You love it.”
“I think that I just might.”