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The man opened the door and gestured for him to follow, he was more shoved inside than anything, and the foreign man walked in after him and closed the door. The darkness of the room was impenetrable, but the man seemed to have no problem finding the lamps and setting them ablaze across the small dwelling.
"So are you going to tell me which Shimada you are? I'm going to find out tomorrow anyway." the man called from another room.
"No." Hanzo blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dark.
"Oh good, you can speak. Well, suit yourself. If you run outside I'll shoot your leg." he frowned and looked around the room. It was small; a dirty kitchen that had never been used was covered small trinkets, some of which he had never seen before. The walls were littered with wanted posters, most of them were of the masked man himself all in different languages, for different sums of money. A few of the posters were of other people though, there was one of Reaper that had an english word Hanzo recognized as being unpleasant written across it. One was sprawled on the table, it was fairly large but definitely the smallest of the ones he had seen so far, making him wonder if the masked man had gone out looking for one to take. It was of the newest wanted fugitive; Hanzo Shimada himself. He understood why the man didn't know his name, despite having the poster. The place where his name was written was smudged beyond legibility.
He leaned over to stare at the half finished portrait of him, the smudged name, the small size. It was a misprint in every way, making him wonder where he had gotten it even more.
"You know it's vain to stare at yourself." he jumped and and turned to look at the man.
"Where did you get this? It's such sloppy production."
"I found it in a pile of things the city was going to burn. What, you think I can just take one of those five foot ones they've got hanging in the street?" He had a good point. "That's why i would like to know your name." he frowned once more, "You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine." he must have been able to see the consideration in face, because he stuck out his hand and grinned, "Name's Jesse McCree. Your turn."
"I never said I was going to tell you."
"Well I've already told you mine, so it's only fair." Hanzo looked away and his eyes rested on the poster of Reaper again.
"You know," Jesse sat down on a chair and he could hear a loud creak, "I may not know the names of the Shimada's, but I do know there are only two kids."
"Yeah, and trust me I have met your little brother. You two are polar opposites."
"I've noticed."
"Have ya? Seems wealth does one of two things to people."
He frowned and glanced at the man, "What do you mean by that?"
"It either makes a man who thinks he's entitled, or it makes a generous soul."
"You think I'm entitled? To what?"
"I'd say you're fortune, but looks like ya lost that." he grinned and crossed his arms, "No sir, you're think you're entitled to the world, even if you don't think so. You think wherever you walk there will be petals at your feet."
"I do not-"
"Ah, but you do." he leaned forward, "You haven't seen what the universe is made of, Shimada. I bet you think it's all like this city. All pretty, all the criminals locked up in a flooded ghost of a...a whatever this is. all the people bowing at your feet because it's you. I fled from my home a long long time ago, a city of smog and horrors around every corner. When I left i couldn't count the unknown serial killers on my hands and toes. You never plan on leaving this city, do ya Shimada?"
Hanzo frowned at him, "I don't...I've never been able to leave before."
"Don't try and get my pity, you never will. I am here to get you to that castle and sleep better knowing some richie got what was waiting for him. Whatever you did I bet you thought you could get away with it? Huh? Well jokes on you, everything won't mold around you." Hanzo opened the door and stared at McCree.
"You are someone who thinks they know everything, aren't you? Nevertheless you are foreign, and you have not seen the Shimada family as i have, nor will you ever." He moved one foot out the door before he collapsed in a heap, hands gripping his side as he felt warm blood seep through his fingers.
"Did you think I was kidding? I've seen people just like you. Spoiled brats is all they are. Why in all the world are you so resistent to go back to that place that you would rather be shot?"
Maybe he should have spoken, but his jaw was shut tight as he held back the scream from the pain in his side. How had he shot him? The gun was in the other room how had he shot him? He had heard it fall to the floor and seen his hip bare as he walked in. He stared up at Jesse who just crossed his arm from across the room. His vision was speckled with black dots that seemed to duplicate until he saw nothing.

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