I got this idea a while ago and decided to finally write it. Child Genji meets child Angela and adorableness ensues, essentially. People in this universe don't know that Genji's family is part of the yakuza. This is meant to be a book, not just a one shot, just fyi. Also, it's meant to be a mix of a narrator and child Genji's thoughts thrown in there now and again.

It was hard to say that the life of a Shimada heir was boring. Certainly, there were always a million and one new things to do. If ever either Genji or Hanzo wanted for anything, it was theirs if they asked. Their father had even at one point offered to buy the arcade down the street after noticing that one of his sons had become enthralled with the place.

But all the young Genji could do when asked was describe his life as boring. His training at home was repetitive, and his brother was as dull as they come, always going on about how great he was because of his high marks on his exams. Genji, quite frankly, thought his brother Hanzo was constantly ridiculous. He had heard from lots of people that fifth grade was super easy, so while he didn't know for himself, he figured that even he could make good grades if he was in Hanzo's class.

That brought up the worst offender of them all, school. He had liked school at one time, two years ago when he was tutored. They let him take his lessons whenever he wanted and never once was he shushed for interrupting. But the school he was going to now was simply the worst, and there were no two ways about that. His father had bristled with pride when he told the brothers that they were to be attending the most prestigious private school that Japan had to offer. He had specifically mentioned that only the "social elite" had the funds to send their children there. All Genji had received when he asked what "elite" meant was a pair of scoffs, the louder of the two coming from his brother.

Apparently, being elite meant that you weren't allowed to do anything interesting. Certainly none of the teachers could hold his attention; they all mumbled on about one thing or another and complained whenever he started talking. No parents let their kids do anything interesting, either. Everyone was the same well-bred, stereotypical Japanese child. They all had to wear awful uniforms, and no one ever came to school with any hair color other than the stupid black that he too had been born with. It was like they had all spontaneously developed an allergy to hair dye. He had practically been mocked off the face of the earth when he arrived with his hair colored green, at which point his father had demanded that he change it back.

Occasionally he thought of coloring Hanzo's hair in the middle of the night, just to see if he could get a reaction out of his brother. At least that would be fun.

All the kids at school were much weirder than he had expected, too. The first thing that made no sense was how they all practically fawned over his brother. Sure, their servants at home did that too, but he hadn't expected other kids to act so stupid. Hanzo was just Hanzo, and he couldn't see anything cool about a kid who still wet the bed, although Hanzo threatened to kill him if he ever told someone that.

But worse than their obsession with Hanzo was their awkwardness around him. Even the kids in his grade just didn't seem to know what to do around him. He knew his family name carried importance, since his father had told him so since birth. His father always said that the Shimada family was one of the most well respected families in Japan, and that it would only stay that way if Genji was always on his best behavior, and if he never spoke of the things his father told him to keep secret. Apparently no one was ever supposed to know about his lessons in martial arts or about all of the missions that members of the clan went out on in the middle of the night. Genji hardly had a best behavior, though, so if they were expecting that out of him it was understandable that his classmates didn't know what to do when he was around. Groveling like they did to Hanzo just wouldn't fit with him; he was simply too silly to do anything but laugh at them if they tried. But they also couldn't be friends with him because they were scared that they might mess up around the child of one of the most beloved men in the entire country. All they could do in that situation was skirt around Genji, trying to ignore him at every opportunity and making him happy whenever they had to. The forced laughs at all of his jokes, even the awful ones, were enough evidence of that.

It was truly, utterly boring. Nothing could even start to come close to how dull his life was and from kindergarten to second grade; absolutely nothing of interest happened.

Second grade, however, eventually brought on something new. The change happened so quietly that had Genji not been bored out of his mind he might have missed it. The sound of hushed whispers echoed through the halls of the primary school where silence normally reigned. He could never get close enough to the kids when he tried to hear what they were saying, but children had almost no sense of secrecy, so he caught tidbits of conversations nonetheless. They were all talking about a new kid, someone who had just started at the school even though it was the middle of the year. That got his interest, because new kids were quite rare, since most affluent people already sent their children here, but his hopes died when he learned that whoever it could be was in the fourth grade, a whole two years older than him. He'd be lucky if he ever learned her name.

Apparently, luck was on his side that day. He had been prepared for another completely boring class of learning Japanese when someone completely new and different walked in, more than enough to cease his boredom.

She wasn't like anyone he had ever seen before. She had to be the new kid, since she was about their height and looking warily at everyone already seated in front of her. However, he had never seen a kid quite like her before. First of all, she was blonde, almost white haired even, and while he knew that blonde people existed, he had never met a blonde kid before. The only kids he knew were the ones who went to this school, and they were all so perfectly bred to look like the model Japanese child that sometimes he wondered if everyone's lineage had all been secretly racist. Or not so secretly, in the cases of some families. Her eyes were a very pretty icy blue color that reminded him of the sky above the castle, when they were far away from the city with its smog and clouds. She almost looked like a ghost, standing there in her white and gold school uniform with pale skin and whiter hair, like she might disappear if he stopped looking. The only thing about her that seemed solid was her dark orange backpack, the straps of which were draped over her shoulders.

She was very much real though, which was evidenced by the teacher standing up from her desk to address the child's entrance into the room. "Class, this is a new student. She just moved here, and as such she will be taking remedial Japanese classes with us. Would you please introduce yourself, dear?"

The child looked up at the teacher, lips pulled taught in a frown, before glancing warily back at the class. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and bowed before speaking in clipped and broken Japanese, her accent getting in the way of almost every single word. "My… my name is Angela Zeigler." She looked up at the teacher, seemingly reluctant to say more. The woman patted her reassuringly on the back, forcing her to continue. "I… am from Zurich, Switzerland. My par-parents are re-re-researchers."

"Very good, thank you Angela. There is a seat in the back between Genji and Sayaka. I trust you are not the type to make trouble." Angela gave a quite nod before heading to her seat. The girl's hands clutched at the straps of her backpack as she made her way down the aisle, looking only straight forward as she did so. It was clear that she was doing it not out of contempt for her fellow classmates but out of embarrassment; the snickers and giggles from the other students were not easy to miss, all of them amused that a fourth grader was taking classes with them. Genji noticed her cheeks turn red, which was the only color that bothered to dust the appearance of the otherwise ghostly girl. Once she sat down she stared hard at the whiteboard, knuckles turning even whiter as she gripped her backpack, which she hadn't bothered to set down, even tighter.

The giggles continued once the teacher started her lesson, but a few well-placed glares on Genji's part stopped at least a few of his classmates. He didn't want the only thing interesting that had happened at this school in years to be scared by some snotty brats.

The girl had finally taken her backpack off and retrieved a glittery notebook and some colored pens from it. He glanced at what she was doing to see that she was taking down color coded notes in Japanese and some other language that he totally didn't recognize. What language was it that people from Switzerland spoke? He'd have to ask father about it later tonight. In the meantime, he poked her on the shoulder, causing her to practically fall out of her chair with how severely she flinched at the touch. Luckily she stayed quiet, causing the pair to go unnoticed by the teacher.

Genji held out a friendly hand for her to shake, whispering as he did so. "I'm Genji Shimada!" She tentatively took his hand and shook it, expression still wary. "So you're new here, huh? What was it like back home, do you miss it? Was it cool?"

Angela let go of his hand before looking at him with a confused expression. She bit her bottom lip hard while scowling, though the face clearly wasn't directed at him. It seemed to be directed at herself.

The young Shimada caught on pretty quickly, at least he thought so. "Oh, you probably can't understand me, right? I'm sorry."

This just seemed to frustrate the girl even more, and she clenched her two small fists tightly in frustration. "N-No, I c-can. Just… can't…" she let out a quiet sigh and shook her head, turning to face the whiteboard only moments before they would have been caught.

Genji felt more than a little bad for her. He had only tried to be friendly, but if she hadn't lived here before then it made sense that she didn't understand what he was saying. The last thought he had before focusing back on his lessons was that he hoped she wouldn't fall behind, like he so often did.

One couldn't be a Shimada heir without being extremely attentive. Genji was that, at least when he wanted to be. And, since Angela was the only interesting thing in almost the entire school, he definitely wanted to be when it came to her.

The easiest thing to notice was how she alienated herself from everyone else. Few tables were empty since the kids sat by grade and were encouraged to be inclusive, but even though the fourth graders' tables were all the way across the lunchroom he could still see her hiding from everyone else. Whenever there were two empty seats next to each other, she took one. At first that didn't bother him, but it became clear after about a week that she was hoping that the least number of people possible would sit by her. The crestfallen look on her face if someone actually sat in the seat next to her was enough to prove it in his head.

He also made a mental note that she seemed to avoid anyone in her grade or a higher grade at all costs. More often than not he would find her blending into his or the third grade classes while they walked through the hallways, almost as if she was hiding. It was a little silly in his opinion, since she stood out like a beacon of light in a dark room.

They didn't have recess together except for one day out of the week, but it came as no surprise to him when he discovered that she stayed alone then, too. At first he thought they didn't have any recess together, since she had disappeared so well, but it just so happened that he noticed her one Tuesday. She was tucked in the corner of the school yard sitting under a cherry blossom tree that had yet to bloom. Her knees were pulled up in front of her, although not quite pressed to her chest, and it looked like she was reading something sitting on top of them.

It was easy to see why he hadn't noticed her immediately. Not only was she well hidden, she was buried under a fluffy white jacket with a light blue scarf so big that it covered most of her chin along with her neck. A wooly, cream-colored hat that looked to be hand knitted covered all of her hair; she was practically buried in clothes.

Genji made a mental note to check back here every Tuesday. She seemed too wrapped up in her book to notice him, and none of the other kids seemed to come this way. Maybe he'd get a chance to interact with her then. Perhaps not talk, but he'd find a way to communicate eventually.

However, after all of this watching, one thing nagged him that didn't quite fit in with the rest of the information that he had gathered. Angela, for all her shyness and misunderstanding of their language, was brilliant. She clearly tried to hide it; every graded paper they got back in Japanese class was passed out face down, and she always left them that way, instead looking at the score she got by the red colored ink that bled through the paper. Occasionally, if she missed a question she would quickly lift an edge of the paper up to see what she had answered, but that wasn't often at all. At first Genji thought that she did this because her grades were low and she was embarrassed of them, but because he sat right next to her he could occasionally catch glimpses of the grades she got if he was being particularly nosy that day. They were all the highest marks possible, and the few times she didn't get a perfect score there would be only missed one question.

He began poking around the school to get more information about this, for the first time ever using his name to try to get something he wanted. He was too curious, and he wanted to know if it was just in her remedial class that she had such good grades. But sure enough, every time he asked someone to look at her most recent test in each class, they always came back with the same, perfect answer. It was baffling.

At first he thought that maybe all of her tests were written in German – the language his father told him that she would know. She could get good grades if she understood the language, after all. But one quick look at her textbooks and tests was enough to disprove that. But that just raised the question: why was she in remedial classes for Japanese if she was so smart?

At first he thought that maybe the whole thing was an act just to draw attention to herself, but he quickly threw that idea out the window. The only attention she ever seemed to get was negative, and it had been clear to him from the first day they met that she didn't want attention, if her reaction to all the giggles and whispers about her ineptitude on her first day of class was anything to go by. If she wanted to draw good attention, all she would have to do was raise her hand in class and answer the teacher's questions; after all, no one else ever knew the answers and the teachers got snappy whenever kids answered incorrectly. Doing that would be enough to make a kid's popularity skyrocket, but despite Angela likely knowing the answer to every single question, not once had he ever seen her raise her hand in class. Occasionally the Japanese teacher would even start to call on her before seeing those pale blue eyes fill with panic. Someone else was always called on immediately after.

It just didn't make sense. And while Genji loved it when things didn't make sense, because that meant there was a mystery to solve, which meant there was something to do, he hated it in this case. Because, even after a few months had passed, allowing winter to melt away into the very beginning of spring, he still didn't know the answer. He still couldn't figure out why.

Eventually, he decided there was one easy solution to this, if he could just get over his pride: ask her.

That was what he intended to do on that windy Tuesday afternoon during recess. Spring had finally poked its head out to the point that everyone could stop wearing their coats. Part of him wondered if he'd still find Angela bundled up under the tree now that it was warmer. It would be a shame if she wasn't; the jacket almost seemed to fit her personality, warm and safe and removed from the rest of the world.

However, he certainly didn't find Angela bundled up sitting under the tree. Hell, she wasn't even alone. A boy that he recognized as being in the grade above Hanzo, although he was held back once, was looming over Angela, whose back was pressed up against the tree.

The girl was quietly shaking and crying, too silently for any of the teachers to have noticed. This corner of the playground was far enough away from supervision that only something loud could bring an authority figure running. Her cheekbone was bruised and her bottom lip looked like it was bleeding. There were red marks on her neck in the shape of hands.

The boy was saying some of the most awful things Genji had ever heard to her; he had only heard them a few times, when he rebelled as a kid and snuck out of his room to see what his father was yelling at. A lot of times it would be a broken body that his father cursed or even someone tied down to a chair. He knew that kids like him weren't supposed to know that kind of thing – that he only did know because of his family's secret that he was never supposed to share with anyone else – so the fact that the boy knew these things was positively awful. Not only that, but Angela seemed to know what they meant too, like she had heard them before, and all of the words just made her cry more. At first she stuttered out broken Japanese, trying to plead with him, before she broke down, clutching at her head and muttering "please stop" in English over and over again, like it might somehow reach somewhere deep inside the monster in front of her and make him cease.

And Genji absolutely seethed at the sight of this. Something deep down inside of him roared with anger that someone would dare do something like that, especially to her. He wasn't sure why he was so angry that it was her in particular, but he knew that he probably wouldn't be quite this livid if it was anyone else.

He stormed over to the pair, not caring in the slightest that the boy was five years older and stronger than him, and shoved him off of her. The kid looked absolutely stunned before his face contorted in panic, likely balking at Genji's identity. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Genji raged, slamming the kid to the ground with another shove.

"I-I don't know what happened," the frightened boy replied, "I'm sorry M-M-Mr. Shimada."

"You don't know. You don't know?" Genji landed a punch straight to the kid's jaw, hearing a satisfying cracking noise at the contact. A brief moment of concern flashed through his mind when he caught sight of his hand and noticed that it was pulsing with what looked like a hundred green sparks, but he was too angry to focus on his curiosity. "So you don't know why you were pushing a girl three years younger than you who doesn't speak our language up against a tree while threatening to do unspeakable things to her and her family? You're telling me that you have no idea how you got into that situation?"

Genji almost punched the kid again for not answering before realizing that he couldn't answer; in fact, he was having trouble breathing. Something pale green and almost translucent had wrapped itself around the boys torso and was squeezing him tightly, practically suffocating the kid. Genji jumped back in shock and the bond almost immediately loosened, allowing him to actually see what it was. A green dragon about two arm lengths long came floating away from the boy on the ground, perching itself on Genji's shoulders before hissing menacingly and barring its fangs at the boy.

The eight year old Genji, full of loathing, loomed over the boy on the ground, who had started to scuttle away. "If I ever see you, or anyone else like you, within ten feet of her, you are dead. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear."

The boy nodded, terrified, and scurried away after one last kick from Genji. Fury practically swallowed the young boy whole as he watched the scum run away from him, and he briefly considered following in order to teach him more of a lesson, until he heard a soft sniffle from behind him.

The anger dissipated quickly as he ran over to the crying girl on the ground. She had curled up in her normal spot, but this time her knees were pressed all the way against her chest and her arms were wrapped tightly around them. Only her eyes were visible due to where she had rested her chin, but the shock that had glazed them over was more than enough to see that something was terribly wrong.

Genji rushed over and knelt down in front of her. She lifted her head up slightly at his approach and sniffed quietly, closing her eyes as she did so and flinching away almost involuntarily.

"Are you okay?" the young heir asked, not sure what he should do. He had never tried to comfort someone before, except his father when their mother had died, and that was an entirely different situation. Angela couldn't be more different from his dad.

The little girl shuddered violently, opening and closing her mouth before trying to speak in Japanese. The words were choppy and horribly mispronounced and the sentence structure was all backwards, but it was easy enough to figure out what she was trying to say. "Did he mean those things? About my family."

"No." Genji said with conviction, shaking his head violently. "And if he did, there is no way that I would ever let him do any of them." The girl let out a shaky sigh of relief, tension easing out of her shoulders. Genji sat for a few seconds in silence before asking her the question he meant to when he came over here in the first place. "Do you understand everything we say?"

Angela nodded briskly. "Talking… it is hard. All the sounds are weird."

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Genji had what he happened to think was a brilliant idea. He shifted from one language to the other that he had spent years learning. "Do you speak English?"

He had never see her face look so bright. It was almost as if someone had finally turned on a light behind those eyes, and they illuminated every other feature. She lunged forward and hugged him tightly, laughing as she did so. Her response came in English, significantly better than even his own. "Yes, perfectly, yes!"

The child contemplated pushing her off, since it was a sudden and weird hug, but he didn't think you were supposed to do that to people you were comforting, so instead he just sat there. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Angela pulled back from her hug and cast her eyes to the ground, light extinguished and expression morose once again. "N-Nobody ever asked. They all just laughed at me and called me stupid, so I figured that they wouldn't care even if they did know."

The young Shimada blinked a couple times before smiling widely at her. "I care." That got her to smile too. It wasn't as big as her previous smile, instead just a slight curl to her lips, but it almost felt better like that, like it was more sincere.

Just then, a teacher ran up to the pair, slightly hunched over and panting. It seemed as if she had run from the opposite side of the playground. "Mr. Shimada, Kazuichi just claimed that you started a fight with him. Is that true?"

"Of course not!" Genji said indignantly. "He started it!"

The teacher looked doubtful, about to say something more when Angela piped up, speaking in her completely perfect English. She gave Genji a small smile, her intent clear; it was her turn to stand up for him. "Ma'am, Kazuichi has been coming here to hurt and make fun of me every time we have recess together. Genji caught him and stopped him." At that, she pointed at the bruise on her face and grab marks along her neck that were beginning to turn purple. She also rubbed at her seemingly unblemished cheek, pigment coming off onto her hand to reveal an ugly, yellowing bruise concealed under makeup. The red marks on her neck were enough to prove that at least most of her injuries were fresh.

Another wave of anger for the disgusting human that hurt her blasted over Genji as the teacher ran up to the small girl, placing her hands on the small child's shoulders and inspecting the injuries. "Angela! Why didn't you tell me?"

"He said he'd hurt my parents if I did." She blinked tears from her eyes, her words warbling as she tried to speak while crying. "He called them dirty omnic sympathizers, and that I was one of them too. That one day he'd hire someone to put a bullet through their head because everyone like us deserves to die."

The woman, who Genji now recognized as Angela's homeroom teacher, reached down and hugged the shaking girl. "You should have told someone. Do your parents know?"

"I told them that I was just roughhousing with my friends, and asked them to help me cover up the bruises because I was embarrassed about them. They were so happy I had friends that they believed me." She looked down in shame. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Maizono."

"It's okay, we'll get this taken care of. I'm going to call your parents, as well as Kazuichi and Genji's." Genji looked up at her in surprise, and the teacher scoffed. "Mr. Shimada, you nearly strangled another child today. While you certainly won't get in trouble like Kazuichi will, I will be notifying your father."

It was strange for Genji, being cooped up in the principal's office with his father and the two other families. As the victim, Angela told her side of the story first, followed by Kazuichi's lame attempt at an excuse and then Genji's own account of what happened. His father's eyes lit up with something akin to pride when he mentioned the green dragon that appeared with his anger and faded as soon as it went away. The principle thought he was just being "grandiose" but his father seemed to think otherwise. The man spent the entire rest of the meeting studying Angela with curiosity, and Genji was sure that his father would talk to him about it later.

While the adults hashed out the boring political stuff, Genji found himself watching Angela's parents. This was the first time he had ever seen them, since Angela walked to school every day. It obviously wasn't the best first impression he could have of them; both of their eyes were puffy and red from tears shed over what had happened to "their precious angel," but he still liked them almost immediately. Angela's obviously took after her mother in her eye and hair color, but the little girl shared a lot of her dad's facial features. He had the same straight nose, thin eyebrows, and angular face that his daughter did. She was the mixture of their pairs best features, all rolled into one small, adorable package.

The mom looked the most frazzled out of the pair. Her eyes had massive bags under them, and her hair was sticking up in odd places, like she hadn't fixed it up in a few days. Funnily enough, that was what made Genji think she would be a nice mom to have. She seemed like the kind of person that, while busy, would look out for her child at any opportunity and listen to everything her daughter had to say. The boy was instantly jealous.

Soon enough, the meeting was over. Kazuichi was suspended for weeks, while Genji's father had asked the school to be able to deal with his son's punishment himself. They had obviously obliged, because one did not simply refuse a request from the head of the Shimada family.

The Zieglers caught up to him and his father outside of the principal's office, each one holding on of Angela's hands. The two adults bowed their heads slightly, the mother speaking in clipped but proper Japanese. "We wanted to thank you for what your son did. We- we had no idea what was happening." Her voice cracked, new tears starting to form. "It's a terrifying thing to hear, as a mother, what he threatened her with. I don't think she even knows the extent of it all."

His father, ever the diplomat, gave them a pleased smile. At least, Genji initially thought it was just an attempt to be diplomatic. The warmth in his father's eyes when he looked at Angela was something he wasn't used to. "It is an honor to know that my family had a part in protecting such a precious child." He knelt down to Angela's eye level, an attempt to show her respect. Genji's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at this; his father never knelt for anyone. "My son has spoken of you before, and I'm happy to know that such a wonderful girl is the one he talks about. If you would ever like to visit our manor for a playdate, please let me know."

Angela looked at Genji with a wide smile before nodding quickly. She hadn't been invited over to anyone's house since she arrived in Japan. "I'd love to!" She looked up at her parents, eyes pleading. "Mama? Please?"

The woman ruffled her daughter's hair. "Of course, we'd be honored to know Angela is friends with such a respectable family." The adults exchanged phone numbers then, and Genji promised Angela that he would invite her over as soon as possible. She beamed at him, nodding goodbye before being tugged away by her parents.

As soon as Genji was in the car with his father, he asked whether or not he was going to be in trouble. Mr. Shimada laughed at that, the sound reverberating through the car as their driver pulled away from the school. "Gods no, Genji. I happen to think that what you did was something completely instinctual and out of your control." His eyes twinkled as he looked back at his son. "Do you remember the lessons you were taught about the dragon spirits of our clan that watch over us?" Genji nodded. "Good. That green dragon was your guardian, son. While I can't be sure, I believe seeing her hurt caused him to wake, and he is instinctively protective of Angela for a very good reason. If I'm right, she is going to be a very special person in your life."

Genji perked up at this. "So like a best friend?"

His father laughed, though not unkindly. "Something like that, yes. You'll understand when you're older." Mr. Shimada stopped speaking to his son for a minute, mumbling to himself instead. "Though if she is, it's remarkable that you found her so early in your life." Genji didn't think he was supposed to hear, though he did anyways, and was left to wonder what it all meant. He did know one thing, though; he was going to get to spend a lot more time with Angela now. The thought made him grin.