WARNING: Gets pretty dark pretty quickly! Alcohol, swearing, abuse, some mature themes later on. Drawing used with permission of Miriam-Moon.

Hey everyone. This fanfic centers mainly on DVA (Hana Song)'s personal life before and during her entering of Overwatch, which is hardly touched on by her official lore. It'll cover the giant Omnic that rose from the sea and attacked South Korea as well.
I wanted to create some semblance of a tragic backstory, to give her rather two-dimensional "I'm a gamer!" character some depth. This means that there'll be lots of drama and angst in this story. Some other characters from Overwatch will be an integral part of her story as well. I'll try to update every week.
Enjoy the story.

"How many wins was that? I've lost count!" said Hana with a childish giggle. She swiveled around on her rotating chair to peer at her Twitch feed, hosted on a separate monitor so as not to obstruct the girl's view of her game. The chat was awash with praise for the young gamer's skills. Drinking in the sight of her hard-earned fanbase, Hana grabbed a can of soda, letting the metal crinkle under the force of her grip. She took a long, refreshing sip of the drink, relishing in the taste of the cold, bubbly liquid. As far as Hana Song- alias DVA- was concerned, she had earned it.

With this money, I could pay for everything. Maybe even Dad's debts. Happiness bubbled inside of her- or perhaps that was just the soda; Hana couldn't care less. In her excitement-induced euphoria, Hana grabbed onto her headset, and yelled into the mic, to her millions of followers-

"If I lose a game today… no, if I ever lose a match, I'll delete my account!"

She eyed her feed with satisfaction as it exploded with messages. The vast majority of the comments were things like DVA WILL NEVER DIE, DVA #1, and I FUCKING LOVE YOU, reaffirming Hana's confidence in her own abilities… though a small minority of them did show a touch of concern. "Oh, I'll fucking do it," she said, smacking her lips, brushing off the nonbelievers with ease. Hana's confidence was at an all-time high. It took every fiber of her body not to tell her viewers what had happened to her just three days ago.

Overwatch is reforming. And they want me to join.

Every time the gamer heard tell of the mysterious organization's name, she felt her heart flutter. No one knew that she was going to join Overwatch's ranks- hell, no one even knew that Overwatch was back. The group that had been so immortalized by the Omnic Crisis was, after all… sort of illegal.

But Hana Song had spent too much of her childhood idolizing the heroes of Overwatch to care. After her father had left them, and her mother had dissolved into an alcoholic, little Hana would have nothing better to do than to collect various bits of Overwatch paraphernalia, read about the members in books, follow them on the news, become a devoted follower to their cause-

"Honeeeeey?"

Hana cursed and slammed the MUTE button with her palm, though it was too late; her Twitch chat exploded once again into a manic spiral of who's that, her mom?, her BF, POGCHAMP.

After quickly assessing the damage dealt with a critical eye, Hana turned to face her mother, who had apparently just arrived at the apartment. She watched, seething silently, as the woman pulled off her stiletto heels, the thin veneer of bright red fabric covering her legs hitching up slightly with the motion.

"You're back early," said Hana, ice built into her voice. It was not a question.

Hana's mother, Nara Song, faltered. Hana couldn't tell whether it was out of remorse or because she was too drunk to function properly- the stink of soju, a Korean alcoholic drink, hung heavy in the air.

"Aw, my own daughter is not pleased to see me?" Ms. Song managed. Hana watched silently as her mother burst into tears. The woman's eyeliner left ugly black streaks down her face, collecting at the bottom of her chin.

The woman continued in her reedy, high-pitched voice, which thankfully Hana had only partly inherited. "You don't understand, it's not my fault, it's your father, and I still have to deal with- with you." Hana noticed the wedding ring still sparkling on the woman's ring finger, and was glad when the woman stumbled away to the only other room in the cramped apartment- her bedroom. Otherwise, Hana would've slapped her.

Dully, Hana listened to the quiet hysterics echoing from next door. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman had been flirting with men at various nightclubs, soliciting drinks out of them that she otherwise would never have been able to afford. It was a situation straight out of those stupid Korean dramas that she had always binged through with her dad when she was little… the ones that even her eight-year-old-self had enough sense to laugh at, wondering, how could anything so ridiculous happen?

Suddenly, she didn't feel like streaming anymore.

She resignedly hit UNMUTE and spoke with her most carefully crafted voice- the one built to elicit pity. "I'm sorry, guys," she said with sincere regret. "Something came up and I… I gotta leave for today. But that doesn't mean I won't be back tomorrow!" She finished the message with an uninspired giggle that left the viewers in total confusion. Did something happen? Who was that? Why is she ending the strea-?

The monitor flashed blue, and then turned off. Hana could see the echo of her face reflected in the glassy black screen- pale and bored-looking. Shouldn't I be more distraught over this?

It had been, in the beginning, total hell.

Nine-year-old Hana simply could not comprehend what would make a father leave his wife and children to an instable financial situation. Nine-year-old Hana could simply not comprehend why her mother would vanish for long periods of time, only to come back smelling of alcohol and sobbing over the stupidest things. Nine-year-old Hana had no idea how to make enough money to support her family…

Except for to quit school and go into gaming, Hana thought. Without the glow of her computer screen, the darkness of the apartment suddenly felt suffocating. She stood up, and after a few steps, she felt herself collapse onto the bean bag that had been her bed for the past six years.

To say that Hana resented her mother was an understatement. All of Hana's hopes and dreams and friends and her life had been wasted on supporting her, a drunkard that could no longer string more than two relevant sentences together. She had long ago given up on taking out her anger on the woman… it wasn't as if she'd understand anyways. Now there was nothing to do but keep the feelings smoldering in her chest. Like embers that only needed a hint of wind to burst into flames.

But now one of my dreams might actually come true, Hana consoled herself. She would be able to leave this cramped apartment, where it only ever smelled like cigarettes, soju, and stale instant ramen. She would become what she had always promised herself she'd do, but never truly believed she had the capability of achieving: actually doing something with her currently worthless life.

Hana curled up on the bean bag, still dressed in the pink pajamas that she'd worn throughout the entire day. She saw little point in changing. Peaceful sleep descended upon Hana for the first time in years, brought by the reassurance of her future that she had always longed for. And with it, came the dreams… of how she had met them.

Overwatch.