The Dragon's Curse (A Hanzo X Reader Fanfic)

The Final Blow

Make so much as one move and you'd go past the point of no return.

The ongoing festivities would only prove to be your greatest ally: With everyone busying themselves in the social responsibility of entertaining one another, you could just slip away like water. None would be the wiser!

It'll definitely make way for lesser resistance for what you were about to do.

I'm sorry, you played those two words over and over again in your head. I'm so sorry.

It took almost a month of non-stop preparation on your part to make sure that everything from point A to point B would go on sailing smoothly. You only had one shot at getting this right, this elaborate plan that came to you originally as an apathetic thought brought upon by a bout of late-night torpor. It seemed stupid at the time, reckless even.

And yet the more you thought about it, the more you came up with ideas, various fill-ins that could explain how to possibly strengthen one part of the plan and fix the loophole of the next. Then your hands found themselves working; your brain hurting from those various ideas that had the gears in your mind turning mercilessly at full speed. You were realizing your vision faster than you could comprehend, faster than you could tell yourself to stop because you knew that in the long run this would all be in vain. There would be no one else but you and your trusted gut feeling to blame.

You were too old to entertain fantasies, let alone use up every resource you have in the hopes of making them real.

You scoffed at the internal turmoil that still waged--although not as strongly--inside you, all the while simultaneously heading over to the smallest passenger aircraft within sight and unlocking it with a destabilizer.

Dismantling its security system didn't prove to be such a chore, albeit this was definitely never an easy pill to swallow in your life. When you first requested such a tool, there were quirks and lifts of the eyebrows coming from your family, who couldn't comprehend what use you, a diplomat and a princess, could possibly have with such a risky and pervasive device meant to hack, weaken, or completely destroy security systems depending on its given power.

It took bouts of various lock-in incidents and unopeneable car doors to convince them that maybe giving you the destabilizer would benefit you a great deal after all. It wasn't as though you would ever do something as illicit or awful as robbing a bank or hack into a private organization's files to reserve as blackmail later on.

What they didn't know was that you meant for every single one of those accidents to happen, and every single move you've done to get there was a calculated procedure, done over and over again until they finally took on a new perspective of rationalization, which in turn led them to give in to your demands.

As soon as you had access inside, you immediately set your suitcase down on a corner, closed all the exits shut, and proceeded to press a series of buttons that lit up the inside walls one by one. An omnic voice then floated out into the space, welcoming passengers onboard and wishing them a safe trip. You hardly listened to a word it said--you were still too caught up in your own shock to actually register anything else.

You actually did it; in all your years you never thought you'd be one to come up with such notions that challenged your own sanity, and yet the next thing you knew was that you were on the driver's seat with the fasteners on and hands clutching at the padded handles that your knuckles turned white and your palms sweat despite the cold.

The engine hummed to life, and with it the screens bared.

You pressed the button that you were all too acquainted with through the pictures you have seen in your self study about the basics of jet flying. You figured you should have deleted your history, but you could not just leave things the way they were, without any traces or whatsoever: If they wondered how this all came to be and snooped around for clues and answers, it could provide some closure at most-- especially to your dear uncle. You also left behind in your history searches that aimed for a map of Rialto and every article existing about Hanzo's current affiliation.