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Adjusting to his new, cybernetic body proved to be one of the hardest challenges he had ever faced but
he managed to master how to use it in little time, driven by his will to live as well as spite and pure anger. They told him it would be a long and painful process but thanks to his effort, it wasn’t that long at all. As for painful, it still was, maybe even more given how far he pushed himself. Getting used to the idea of having a new body, made of mostly cybernetic parts though, was a completely different issue; yet another challenge, it’d take him many years until he finally found his inner peace.
Genji didn’t remember much of what happened after the fight… no, after his own brother murdered him. He did remember that he tried to fight back.
Anger.
Betrayal.
Hopelessness.
Pain.
A
lot
of pain. Those were the very first feelings he woke up to when he finally opened his eyes and found himself laying on a hospital bed, in an unknown facility, surrounded by unfamiliar faces.
Dark eyes shot open and bright white light blinded him. The first conscious intake of oxygen made his lungs burn. It felt like waking from a long, cold, mute sleep.
Genji screamed, the plastic mask covering his nose and mouth just barely acting as a barrier.
On impulse he tried to jerk up but found himself anchored to the bed. His whole body felt stone-heavy. Slowly, Genji realized that not only his body felt heavier: it was unresponsive, he couldn’t even properly feel most of it.
Dark eyes darted around, searching frantically for anything that could give him a hint of what was going on. He could hear voices around himself but he also couldn’t hear them; they were so muffled and distant when the only sound he could hear was his own heartbeat, loud, fast and growing even faster. Distantly, his mind registered another sound, the increasing frequency of
beeps
from some sort of machine.
Someone from the people in the long white coats yelled something when the beeping of the machine got faster and faster, matching Genji’s heartbeat. He felt like he couldn’t breath, yet he was being forced to by that stupid mask. He wanted to tear it away but his arms felt so heavy… like they weren’t even there, except they were, he could see them. There were so many tubes in his arms and scars, so many, many fresh-looking scars.
Genji couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. He wanted to scream again, the more he looked at them the harder he felt each scar
burn
on his marred skin. One of the tubes started pumping liquid in his arm and for a moment cold panic made him forget about the pain.
What were they pumping into him?
He tried to fight, he had never gone down without putting up a fight, but soon his mind and his senses started going numb and he fell into a dreamless sleep again.
When he woke again several days later, Genji was introduced to the doctors working on his case and he was given a professional, concise yet effective explanation of his situation. He learnt he had spent the last month in a coma. He was in the care of Overwatch. Safe, they told him. They currently were in Overwatch’s HQ in Switzerland. They had moved him there only last week shortly after he had regained consciousness.
Genji wanted to know everything from the start. The doctor tried to make him reconsider, told him something about waiting a little longer, about his fragile state of mind and some more bullshit that fell on deaf ears. It was painful to talk, to
breathe
even. The doctor addressed that issue first: his vocal cords had been damaged, however, repairing them was probably the easiest and less severe of the many operations he’d have to undergo, if he gave them his consent, of course.
He asked her to go on, to tell him to what extent his body had been damaged. When she was done, he felt like screaming, crying and breaking anything he could get under his hands; but he couldn’t do any of those. The doctors left him alone for the rest of the day. As he stared at the grey ceiling, unable to move at all but his head, Genji’s mind started to wander. What was left for him to do? He had nowhere to go, no one to trust, especially the very person he had always loved the most. Just thinking about his brother made his blood boil. Pure white fury filled him, blinding him for a moment and making his nostrils and his lungs burn. So, when some of the higher-ups of Overwatch came to him and offered him to rebuild his body in exchange for his help to dismantle the Shimada clan’s empire, Genji took up the offer without a second thought. His mind was set on revenge but the commander put it out clear to him: he’d operate as an Overwatch agent, not as a bounty hunter nor an assassin, which meant he couldn’t do as he pleased. There were strict protocols, laws, international agreements and Overwatch’s own philosophy and standards he’d have to comply with.
They told him there was no rush, that he could take as much time as needed to think about it, but Genji stopped them before they could leave the room and told them he’d do it. He would join them and contribute with his knowledge and skill in order to tear down the Shimada clan’s crime empire. To destroy what destroyed him and get revenge.
And so, it began. He had to undergo many, many surgeries and spent a good half month in a drowsy-like state. His doctor, Dr. Ziegler, was presented to him as one of the greatest minds Overwatch had ever employed. Her genius in her field was held in high regards by the medical community, despite her young age. He told her he didn’t care of what she did, as long as he could have a
functioning
body again. She told him, her lips forming a thin line for a moment, that it would indeed be functioning; this was going to be the most challenging case she ever had but to trust in her skills. Only the best for her patients. Genji knew he should have felt more grateful back then but he could only think of having control of his body again, getting back on his feet as soon as possible and what was waiting for him after that. How he’d enact his revenge on those rotten serpents.
After two months he was finally able to sit again, despite the discomfort it brought him. He could breathe and talk again without tasting iron in his throat, nor any pain. His voice was more or less the same, it just had a slight electronic inflection that, to be honest, he didn’t mind at all. Tubes and wires multiplied but he paid them no mind; however, what really bothered him was his face. Genji had always been kinda vain, when he saw his face marred by scars it hit him hard; he requested a mask to one of the engineers working with Dr.Ziegler. His torso and right arm were replaced with cybernetic enhancements; Dr.Ziegler proved to be right once again: he couldn’t feel pressure, nor texture, nor warmth. At least, he could still taste the food though that did little to hearten him.
Genji tried to convince himself that the loss of something so trivial such as the sense of touch was but a little sacrifice.
As more time passed, Genji finally managed to get back on his feet; learning how to walk again was hard and painful but he mastered it in no time, to everyone’s astonishment. When he was back to top form, his agility and speed was matched by none in Overwatch. His new body truly was a piece of art, just as Angela promised him, but as glad as he felt to be able to stand and move just like (actually even better than) before, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he got each time he stood in front of a mirror. What was left of him that was flesh? Little. Could he still be called a human? Was he more man or machine? The thoughts started plaguing his mind, a dangerous cocktail with his anger.
He’d train each day, for as many hours as Dr.Ziegler would let him before forcing him to interrupt his training. He never put this much commitment to his training in his younger years; his father would scold him for that but he’d usually let it go. Even as he grew up he kept slacking off.
If just he had been stronger than his brother, he wouldn’t be the one with a body like his.
A bitter feeling settled in the pit of his stomach and he clenched the shuriken held in his right hand. He should have been bleeding from his hand, but he felt nothing, just the slight pressure and weight of those objects in his hand. He threw the shurikens in a fit of rage, hitting each of the three target’s bullseye.
When he was deemed ready to go on missions, he was assigned to Blackwatch, Overwatch’s covert ops division. He met McCree there; at first he tried to keep his distance as he had mixed feelings about him. He didn’t trust that cowboy but Commander Reyes told him that if there was anyone he could trust, it was Jesse. Genji liked Commander Reyes; and listening to him proved to be a good idea. With time he’d learn that McCree was actually good company. During his time in Blackwatch, he started seeing Angela not as frequently as before. She was either patching agents up on field missions, or working in a clinic. He started missing her company. True, he’d try to keep silent most of the time they got to spend time together (which was a lot, given how she was also supervising his rehabilitation) but Angela was always kind to him; she’d bring him chocolates, books and even asked him if he’d like some games to keep himself entertained. She was very professional when acting as his doctor but it was clear to him that she truly wanted to help him. Yet, at first he pushed her kindness away. He didn’t need her pity.
More time passed. Rialto, then King’s Row, and many more issues. The Shimada empire had finally been eradicated. Once in a while a cadet branch tried to restore the family’s prestige but it’d promptly someone would hinder them. Assassins sent from rivalling clans, perhaps. He did not care, anyway. Sometimes Genji wondered what happened to Hanzo. He wasn’t there when he was sent to Hanamura. Blackwatch tried to track him but he had vanished into thin air. That was too bad, he had wanted to
kill
him himself. Overwatch’s beliefs started to stick to him and he found that it wasn’t so bad to fight for peace and a greater goal. His teammates weren’t that bad, he respected them or at least he respected their skills, he even made few friends… yet, Genji felt lonely. Lost.
The more years passed, the more his condition started weighing on him. He used to live life to its fullest, enjoying himself everyday: alcohol, drugs, parties, women and men alike. Genji liked physical contact, something that had always been held off in his household and that he kept craving and searching for outside of the castle’s gates. Laying in his bed, he couldn’t feel the softness of the blanket, nor the feeling of Overwatch’s standard starched linens. Only time alone brought him little relief but it still wasn’t enough to make up for it. And after years, he still couldn’t find a reply to the question:
what am I now? Man or machine?
Genji was being stationed in Watchpoint:Gibraltar when Angela Ziegler contacted him directly, much to his surprise. He couldn’t believe what she was telling him; swallowing hard, Genji tightened his fingers around his comm, his hand trembling slightly.
He could try. Maybe...maybe he’d feel less like a machine if he let her…
Obtaining a permit to fly back to the HQ was easier than he thought, probably because Angela vouched for him. When he arrived at the base, Angela was waiting for him. She went for a hug and that startled him; he froze for a moment but hugged her back. He wished he could have felt it. She was glad he was there and that....that made him feel sorry for how he had disregarded her kindness back then. Genji felt bad, an unappreciative fuck actually. He had to make up for it. As they walked in, he tried to strike on a conversation. He didn’t miss her surprised expression but her warm, tender smile made his heart skip a beat.
“The project is basically done but I needed more time to perfect it. I don’t like to gamble when my patient’s health is at stake, unless it is strictly required in an attempt to save a life, unlike
someone else.
There are
ethics
in our work and I intend to keep my work within those boundaries. There must be a reason for them to be there,” Angela rambled as she slipped on clean medical gloves.
“Ah, I’m sorry Genji, I’m rambling again.” she apologized; he managed to smile at her, hiding the feel of anxiety he was starting to experience as the time for the surgery drew closer,
before replying “It’s okay. I get why you don’t like Dr.O’Deorain.”
In fact, he didn’t like her much too.
He didn’t fully trust her either.
Angela chuckled and sat next to him, gently moving and turning his left arm before she fished for a cotton swab and disinfectant. She wetted the swab and wiped the junction of Genji’s arm. She reached for a needle but hesitated for a moment, turning her head to face Genji “Are you ready to proceed?” she asked. She was searching in Genji’s eyes for a sign of hesitation but found none. “It’s the first time I’ve applied my discoveries in biotic technology like this and- I’ve never tried this. This could not work at all despit-” she rambled on but she was interrupted by Genji, who gently wrapped his flesh hand around her smaller wrist. “Angela. No, Dr.Ziegler. I trust you. I’ve entrusted my life to you and you saved me once. Just knowing that you’d be willing to try this on me was… It’s a challenge, yes, but I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I have full trust in your skills, doctor.” He tightened his hand and hoped he could feel her skin, her warmth.
Soon.
The surgery took fourteen hours and several medical staff, but to Genji it was all a long, deep and dreamless sleep. He started dreaming only when the sedative started to wear off. He dreamt of a sparrow flying high in the clear blue sky who got injured and fell, but was saved by a white dove, an angel. When he woke up he was groggy and confused, not knowing what day or time it was. The familiar scent of chemicals and the cold white surroundings of the room met him just like they did several years before. His head felt like a block of granite and his eyelids were so heavy he was having trouble keeping them open. Weakly he turned his head around, hoping to find someone. A familiar figure leaning over one side of his bed greeted him: the Swiss doctor was napping, her back bent forward, her head resting on her crossed arms on Genji’s bed.
Genji quietly studied the woman’s facial features. She was beautiful, that was one of the very first things he had noticed. Not even the heavy bags under her eyes mined her beauty. She looked exhausted. His body protested a little as he stretched his hand towards her hair, to move a stray lock of blond hair that had fallen in front of her face. He gently tucked her soft hair behind her ear and smiled to himself. He felt...strangely at peace now. It took his brain a while to register the new sensations, after years of deprivation of his sense of touch.
Genji moved the sheets from his body and stared at his new...
skin.
The colour gave away it’s synthetic nature but now his body looked...more human than before but, most importantly, he could
feel
again.
He heard rustling coming from his side and realized he had disturbed Angela’s nap.
She stretched as she sat up and hid a yawn behind her hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Genji apologized but the medic just smiled at him and waved it off. “No, no...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken a nap. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, you know.” she told him with a smile, looking exhausted but with an excited gleam in her eyes. He could almost taste her anticipation and slight anxiety. They just stared at each other for a few moments before she stood up after a short ‘Ah!’ exclamation, as if she had remembered something. “Now that you’re awake I need to tell you the details and then run a check-up. Do you allow me to do so?” she asked, slipping back to her professional self. Genji just hummed. He listened to her talk and realized he could stay hours like that, just listening to her list off details in medical terms he had no idea what they meant. When she was done, she summed it up in an easier and more accessible explanation. He still had no idea what she did but she had indeed done yet another miracle. She truly was an angel.
Angela proceeded to perform the check-up on him to ensure his nerve endings had been restored and successfully connected to his new synthetic skin. Everything proved to be fine and working. Genji still couldn’t believe it. Angela sat next to him once again, a worried frown on her face as she waited for Genji to say something to her and not only reply with nods or shakes of his head.
“Genji…is everything alright? Do you- do you need a moment?” she asked. Then, she noticed that Genji had been subconsciously trying to hold his own hand, to touch himself. Her worried expression melted in a sweet and tender smile. She tentatively stretched her hands towards the ninja, one hand gently threading through his black hair, slowly sliding down until she was cupping gently his head with her hands. He looked at her, a vulnerable expression in his eyes. “Can you feel
this?
” she asked, gently reaching forward to plant a soft kiss on his forehead before sitting back on her chair, one hand staying there, cupping his cheek. Her cheeks had turned red but at least, she wasn’t the only one; Genji’s too were quite hot and she was pretty sure he could feel that too.
The cyborg’s eyes dampened but he didn’t cry. Instead he smiled and rubbed his cheeks in her soft, delicate palm. “Yes. I can. All thanks to you. You save me once again, Angela.”
They stayed like that for a while, until Angela excused herself to finally get some sleep. For the whole time she stayed there though, she held Genji’s hands. Before she could leave, Genji caught her attention and for the first time in his life stuttered as he tried to invite a woman to eat out for a date. He was still embarrassed of his cyborg body, but he could bear going out for a night if it wa with her.
It was adorable how he stuttered and kept chopping of sentences but she said ‘Yes’ before he could properly phrase it. She really needed some sleep now.
Genji watched Angela exit the room, his heart beating fast and his cheeks pleasantly warm and tingling. He hadn’t felt so relaxed in a long time; the conflict he felt for his body had quieted down for a moment and he felt almost at peace with himself. ...it was relaxing. He hoped if this was going to be enough for him to finally learn how to accept himself. For now though, he had a date to look forward to.
Little did he know, that it wouldn’t be enough. It’d take him many more years, leaving Overwatch and starting to wander before he could achieve that inner peace he was yearning for. But that came with a promise, that he’d be back someday, when he was finally able to accept himself. Only then he’d come back to her and offer her himself as a whole.