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An hour later when the snoring resumed, Hanzo ignored the pain enough to sit up and look around. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could see almost clearly as he looked around for his things. His shirt, scarf, and wrap he wore were all missing from view, leaving only one place they could be. Hanzo looked at the curtain in front of the room. One part of him insisted that he was fast fast asleep and Hanzo could get past him no problem, the other part remembered how he had woken up minutes before Reaper even knocked on the door.
He probably should have tried to escape, but every movement stung like a thousand hornets, so instead he laid wide awake on the floor, listening to the steady snoring drifting in from the other room. As he lay, he thought of a lot of trivial things, things that were stupid. The first was a Hanamura saying; there were four things that made a home a home in the city.
The first was A hearth for the heart, and the fireplace that had once been in the quarters was boarded up either by Jesse or the homeowners before the flooding got really bad. Now the home was cold and sorrowful. The second was A garden for the mind; the only thing growing here was either mold or weeds, nothing had actually grown in the place since before the floods. The third was a bed for the body, and Hanzo was sleeping with no covers or pillows on a damp concrete floor in the pitch black. The fourth and final verse of the saying was a kitchen for company. Jesse's kitchen was not only covered in grime,dirt, and mold,  but it was also cluttered with jars that did not contain food, papers written in foreign scripts, various bullets, and other absolutely random items. Jesse's house was a Hanamura citizens hell, and that's what Hanzo was living in. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes, thinking that it'll get better, maybe it could be worse.

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