It was that air of confidence that Hanzo admired in Jesse McCree. That cocky assurance that things would go his way, even when he was dealing with a dangerous outlaw. It came with the territory, being a former outlaw himself after all. Hanzo wasn't one to pry into a man's past, he only knew the contents of McCree's personal file, from a cursory read. But he knew enough to understand that today, McCree was facing the ghosts of his past. Illegal firearms—A stolen armoured truck filled with gold. It could have been one of his targets in his Deadlock Gang days had he taken a more ambitious path…

But if there was any discomfort to be felt, McCree didn't show it. He had served Overwatch for a long time, now. He didn't need to prove himself, nor did he feel any guilt for his past ways when looking at James McGee—the man behind the highjacking.

"It's mighty foolish of you to try and spring an ambush on me with such a small posse." McGee remarked, when he saw that McCree was only accompanied by Hanzo. They had littered the dirt roads with the bodies of his men, but while their ally Mercy was tending to their wounds, Jesse was left with the company of one man. Giving McGee the impression that McCree was unprepared. But this was not the case.

"Give it up McGee and we'll have mercy on you." McCree called for his surrender. Ignoring the outlaw's gibe. They had already taken out all his men and McCree had little patience dealing with an outlaw too stubborn to realize there was no use holding out.

"What? So you can give me a sheriff's badge and make me join your little Overwatch gang?" McGee sneered, mocking the second chance that McCree had been given. There was no way it would come to that.

"No. So I don't put a bullet in your head. That's a fair deal, ain't it?" McCree asked, showing that he wasn't kidding around. Even if the situation seemed like a joke to the outlaw. McCree did not treat it as such.

"It's a fine piece of work, what you did to my men out there… But I reckon that you don't have any bullets left." McGee gave Jesse a fake compliment to go with his bluff. The odds were turning against his favour. He would have to think of something fast, if he wanted any chance to escape.

"And how much are you puttin' on that bet?" McCree called his bluff. Peacekeeper had two bullets left in its chamber. The man had no options. There was no harm in calling his bluff, was there?

"His life." McGee answered simply and fired his gun at Hanzo. Ducking away from McCree and making his get away with the armoured truck.

"Hanzo!" McCree shouted his teammate's name as Hanzo fell to the ground. As fast as Hanzo fell, McCree was already down on his knees, by his side. The bullet had not hit any vital organs, but the entry wound in Hanzo's abdomen was bleeding profusely, staining his fingers with blood. But though his hand was near the wound, Hanzo made no effort to stop the flow of blood.

"Hang on now! Help's on the way!" McCree quickly pressed Hanzo's idle hand on the wound to stop the bleeding. Assuming that Hanzo was in too much shock to move it himself.

"If my life is to end. I am content to die on the battlefield." Hanzo revealed grimly. It was now McCree's turn to be shocked. The man hadn't moved his hand because he couldn't, it was because he didn't want to.

"You got a death wish or somethin'?" McCree asked, trying to make sense of it all. Hanzo was a skilled fighter. McCree was certain that he could pull through. So why was the man resigning to his fate without a fight?

Ignoring McCree's question, Hanzo remained silent.

"Well, it ain't happening on my watch!" McCree declared and took off to find Mercy.

"Forgive me, Genji." Hanzo said in a voice barely above a whisper. It didn't matter if no one heard it. These final words were for himself, a final testament of his feelings said aloud before he died.

Closing his eyes, Hanzo heard a series of bangs in the distance. Had his allies stopped the man who had grievously wounded him? Or was it the other way around? Hanzo let the thought drift away, allowing the darkness to consume his thoughts, as his consciousness began to fade.

"Heroes never die!"

Were those his last words? Or his first? Hanzo wasn't sure. All he could feel was the rejuvenating force of Mercy's healing beam permeating his body, mitigating the weariness caused from his wound and replacing it with newfound vigour.

"Almost lost you there, partner. We can't have that." Hanzo heard McCree's relieved voice. The cowboy who had rushed to guide Mercy towards him, was standing right beside her. Both with relieved expressions on their faces.

"Thank you, both." Hanzo rose and thanked the two people who had saved his life. Though it had been his wish to die honourably that day, Hanzo recognized the debt of gratitude that he owed and gave them both his most sincere thanks.

"I will see you both, back at the base." Mercy told them and took to the sky. Leaving the two men by themselves.

"The next time you're dyin', don't be so quick to give up, ya hear?" McCree aired his concerns out in the open with some friendly advice for Hanzo.

Taken aback by McCree's surprising frankness, Hanzo nodded in agreement.

Author's Note: This is the last of my Mifune drabbles. It's based on the 1970's western movie Red Sun (it's about a samurai escorting an outlaw across the country and they eventually bond) which I highly recommend. The movie handles the samurai's wounds a little differently, but I wanted to write a story where McCree is surprised by Hanzo's passiveness when he's on his deathbed.