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A man, believing he was at the end of his life, stood and observed the world around him. He had spent most of the years of his life looking through rose tinted glass that he had never really seen the city for what it was. The market streets of the shopping district that had once seemed so far away and cheerful were really just overcrowded and full of people who were either hiding, looking at the useless decor, or they were the rare few who were actually buying things. He was stepping foot in the market for the first time in his life, staring with others at the wall of the wanted; covered in posters old and new of the wanted criminals plaguing the city of Hanamura.

The people next to him were doing one of three things; memorizing the faces of those with the highest bounty, checking so they know who to avoid, or (like him) looking for their face. The newest, largest poster on the wall had the sketch of a man with steady eyes, a broad nose, he was frowning very slightly, and he had his head tilted up looking regal. The sketch was no doubt copied from the large portrait of the young heir Hanzo Shimada, who was now staring at the poster with his face carefully hidden. No bounty was listed on the poster, only 'Deliver to Her Royal Majesty', something that so far only the infamous Reaper posters had, and he had killed about forty-three people. Hanzo had only had one person's life counted against him.

People were not paying attention to Reapers's posters though, they were not paying attention to the masked mystery man who plagued the city since June, everyone was staring at the poster of Hanzo Shimada. "But why?", he heard, "This has to be fake, Hanzo Shimada? Wanted?" He walked away from the wall and down the market streets.

He walked out of the markets, the crowd thinning and the buildings getting more and more regal and less and less occupied as he entered the flooded district.

Posters were hung here, too. But they weren't hung here by the same people who hung the ones in the market. The criminals who reside in the empty mansions, abandoned so long ago in the floods, took them and hung them up not to warn the people to stay away but to show each other a nice way to make some money. 

During the day, most of the districts unofficial residence stayed inside like vampires afraid of the sun. At night, however, some of the streets could resemble those of the market.

Although Hanzo was skillful with a bow, he had been forced to leave home without it. He didn't have any money, and had no intention (or way) of turning someone else in for it. He was believing he was at the end of his life because that was his plan. He had no experienced survival skills, no boat would carry him out of the harbor and even if they did the entire country knew his name, and so did all the neighboring ones.

As the sunset and the shadows stretched across the streets he sat down in front of a large, crumbling statue of the current Queen's great grandmother and waited. People stopped and looked at him, sitting still in clothes much too regal and pristine for him to belong to the dirty streets. He sat with his legs crossed, his eyes tracing the crowd, waiting for the inevitable. No one got even remotely close to him for a solid hour and half, then a small crowd formed as people speculated who he might be. To all who had seen the posters it was obvious; who else but the heir to the Shimada fortune?


A/N: Soooo this is what I've been doing instead of working on Dares...sorry... I don't know if I'm going to update that anytime soon. I afraid to say I've abandoned it a little, but I definitely want to go back to it in the future. ((Also this did not start out as a McHanzo fic so if there are some different names or something my bad))
ONE MORE THING i read a fic called flowers like ashes (definitely look it up it's my favorite mchanzo fic ever) and i kind of want to add in the Hanahaki thing here? tell me what you think

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