Genji Part IV

Another month passed. Angela hadn't asked him to give her any information about the night of his presumed death, and she hadn't allowed him to have any more time without the mask on. However, he had noticed that every day she required him to turn over so she could see and scan the backs of his legs.

It wasn't until the end of that week when she came back with a worried look. Genji raised an eyebrow in question, beginning to mirror the doctor's look. Angela hugged a clipboard close to her chest and gave him a weak smile. A pity smile. "I'm afraid Genji, that we must amputate your legs."

His eyes widened, and he sat straighter in disbelief. How else could he express himself?

"There was an unknown substance, a poison if you will, found in your legs. The source was the back of your knees, where we had found two puncture wounds—"

A flash of pain struck him in his practically non existent legs, and Genji remembered Hanzo shoving something sharp into the back of his knees, forcing him down. The shurikens. His brother had always coated them in a blackmarket poison, supposedly so they were prepared for any moment.

"—however, they've already sealed the substance in and even through samples we have no idea as to what it may be. Our only option to save what is left of you is to remove your legs. We have plans for what might happen afterward, but I'd rather discuss that when we're done with the procedure. You will be transferred to the surgery room tomorrow. That is, if you wish to continue with our plans."

The young man paused for a long moment, staring into Angela's usually calming blue eyes. They weren't helping.

This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. He'd already lost an arm, now both legs? What would be the point of life? What if he got prosthetics, but he would still only have one organic arm. Would the world see him as a cripple? A waste of time and energy, a waste of a life? He grew frustrated.

Angela noticed his internal pain and kneeled down beside him. She took his hand in both of hers and spoke quietly. "I promise you that afterwards your life will be renewed, you'll be much more healthy. We will give you new legs, the ability to walk, we could fix your throat so you can talk properly." She sounded hopeful, as if he would begin life anew, but the thoughts, fears and doubts still clouded his mind. Or at least they did, until she continued speaking. "I'll give you a hint at what we are planning for your future."

And with a voice quieter than a mouse, she whispered into Genji's ear.

His head cleared, and in his eyes a new fire awoke. Genji carefully nodded his head in consent to the amputation. Angela stood up, a mask of happiness on her face, but below there was fear, and sadness. She'd hoped that perhaps he could have gone past his anger, conquered it and become a successful young man. But Reyes was right, he wanted it. Badly.

—-

The following morning, Genji found himself being rolled to a surgical room and dressed in a paper gown. Several staff nodded their greetings to him, but they wasted no time. The moment he lay prone on the table, the head man told him the steps they would take for a successful procedure. Someone attached a tube to his arm, from TV reference he managed to guess it was one of those IV things. His eyes darted around and he found several empty monitors, just starting to gain data. Behind him, Angela gently lifted his head and stuck something into his neck. The air in his mask began to smell good, and almost immediately he gave in to the anesthesia. Just before he left the conscious plane however, he heard a short pass of conversation.

"Why did you knock him out?"

"He is too unpredictable, and I am afraid the amputation might cause him more mental harm, which in turn may cause him physical harm."

Genji inwardly frowned. That was Angela's voice, wasn't it? Why would she not trust him? A spark of anger tried fan itself into a flame, wanting to defend himself, but it dissipated as he succumbed to the warm dark of the anesthesia.

—-

There was a dull throb in his legs. It was uncomfortable, and he couldn't shift himself into a comfortable position. He wiggled around some more, not wanting to wake up. With an inward sigh he reluctantly opened his eyes. No rest for the weary.

As his eyes began to adjust to the brightness of the room, the throb in his legs intensified. There might as well have been a heart in them. Finally able to see, he caught the gaze of someone supposedly keeping watch. They held each other's eyes for a moment. Genji broke it, curious to see why his legs might hurt. In fact, now that he thought of it, it wasn't his legs that hurt, but it was him abdomen. He opened the gown to find a set of stitches running across his hips. For a moment he boggled over why they might have done that and what they had done, but his gaze was attracted by the other concerning wounds.

He blinked. He blinked because that was all he was capable of doing. It was astonishing to find the bottom half of his legs gone, and even more so when he couldn't feel the pain. There wasn't much he could see of the amputation from this angle, and while trying to imagine it, he realized he was glad he couldn't. What he did see though, was still a bit disturbing. Healthy skin was peeled over his thighs and he could see the tiny red imprints of veins mapping their way across. The very edges of the skin, the closest to his muscles, was still stained in a scarlet blood and underneath he could see small brown stains on his temporary bed. The blood didn't bother him all too much. After all, it was basically the family business to kill. The problem he had was the skin. It made him queasy to see it pulled back in such a way, and he finally decided to look away, opting for the white ceiling.

Moments later, his ears caught the shifting sweep of a coat and he snapped his head around to see the door close. For a moment he glared at it, waiting for someone to use the door again. Not surprisingly, Angela made her way through the door, followed by the man who had been watching him earlier.

"You are awake," she stated, hesitating between the words.

Genji gave her a slow nod, unsure of what to think of her reaction.

"Well, I suppose the inevitable is upon us," she muttered, mostly to herself, but with only the sound of rain outside, Genji could hear. It made him doubt. "After a week's time, we should have made sure there is no further disease or poison in your legs and begin adjusting you to your prosthetics. Until then, we'll continue to keep you fed and rested."

Genji blinked in acknowledgment and collapsed back onto his bed exhausted both mentally and physically. New legs, how would those work? He had never cared to ask how when he was younger. Did it mean they'd have to stick things into the working parts of his legs? Have something attaching his nerves to the machine part. He furrowed his brows for a moment, hoping that the new legs he would get were similar to his old ones. His organic ones.

The week passed, Genji's legs were healthy now, freed of any remaining poison. And when Angela stepped in, he was hoping to see some sort of case with new legs so he could finally start walking again. He was awfully uncomfortable, having not moved on his own for months. Unfortunately, though, his wishes were not met. Instead of prosthetics, he got news. Angela told him that once again he must undergo surgery. This time, on his back. They needed to fix his spine before anything else happened. At the news, Genji lightly glared at her. He had no wish to wait further. Impatience had been growing in him ever since the start of that week, and it wanted to snap. If only he hadn't been wearing the damned muzzle.

A couple days passed, and the nurses had started to help him through minor physical therapy. His spine was healed, but scars marked his surgery. At last, when they deemed him strong enough, Genji laid eyes on a pair of metal contraptions, in the shape of legs. A wide smile tried to erupt inside his mask. Just thinking of walking made him overjoyed. But of course, as there always seemed to be for something he wanted, there was a catch. Before being presented with his new limbs, he had to agree to something.

Angela gave a near silent sigh. "As we had discussed before, Overwatch requires information on the Shimada Clan, and considering your training in many fields of stealth and combat, Overwatch's sub organization would like to recruit you to work for them in their covert missions. If you are to accept, you will gain these prosthetics, a new arm, and… We're offering you a cybernetic transformation. All that's asked of you is to keep secret, loyal, and obedient. If you are to decline, we will give you the legs still, but no further help is required of us." Something in her voice made her sound regretful, and weak.

Behind her, a man spoke up. Genji had not realized he was there, having focused on the prospect of mobility. He also recognized him as the man that had apprehended him nearly a month and a half earlier. "Genji Shimada, it's been brought to my attention that you are grieving several losses." The man stood to attention, straight backed, hands held behind him, and feet close together. He was a man of war. His voice was firm, steady, and convincing. As he spoke, Genji realized the mental manipulation that he was going for, but agreeing with all of what the man was speaking, had no objection.

"Mr. Shimada, I am truly sorry for you. The loss of your limbs, the betrayal of your family, the doubt you have in who to trust. I bet you're angry, and I'll tell you what, you have every right to be. They've turned you into a broken man, covered in blood and scars, stripping you of your potential! Did you even get a fighting chance against them? Or did the clan just pounce on you like they did to every other victim that fell to them." Angela squeezed the man's arm, urging him not to speak like this, to not anger her patient, but neither man listened. The Blackwatch commander continued. "No, you weren't even treated like a mere target, you were treated worse. They practically tortured you, whipped you, beat you, cut you, until they saw you were hanging onto the last string of life. Did they even wait until you died? They just left you there, suffering, laying in agony, waiting for the sweet release of death. And your family didn't even give you that. Where's the honor in such treachery? Aren't you mad? Don't you want to show them what you felt? Don't you want to hurt them? Show them what they did! Release your anger, unleash your fury upon them! Don't let them think they won and broke you. You're not dead yet, and you're going to show them, all of them, what you suffered."

Reyes has ended in a harsh whisper, his eyes deep with his own summoned anger. Across from him, Genji hissed from his teeth. It was a low, threatening noise. The veins in his arm strained and popped as he gripped the edge of his bed with a crushing force. All of his memories of Hanzo's betrayal flooded his mind, feeding his anger. His chest heaved with strain as his breathing grew quicker, and he could feel the old pain there. It only acted as another reminder. The man was right, Hanzo had practically whipped him like a horse, leaving him to die without the single most thought of mercy. He would show him. He would show them all! That's right, all of them would suffer the same pain as he did that night. Hanzo, Akira, Hayato, Masato, all of them. That would show them.

Genji's eyes had interlocked with Reyes' during the entire duration of his speech. And now the latter began to smile viciously. "You can have it, revenge. We'll turn you into a living weapon. Your past will be wiped away by your hands, it will all be yours. All we ask, is that you join us."

Beside Reyes, Angela looked at Genji with wide and worried eyes. She fished for something in her pockets. Genji, mean while, only grew in hatred of his family. His breathing was almost labored now, and he was inhaling sharply through grinding teeth. Exhaling every breath with a loud huff, almost like a dragon.

"I accept," he sharply whispered. The moment after he answered Angela took her que and injected a needle into Genji's arm. Immediately, he could feel the effects of a drug. It slowed his heart down and relaxed him. He breathed almost a sigh of relief as all thoughts of anger, revenge, and pain slipped from his mind. Briefly, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he saw Angela trying to drag his new commander out of the room, quietly scolding him. Genji ignored it, listening to the enveloping sound of his own slowed heartbeat.

This was a peaceful place. Rain lightly beat on the low roof, and the lights were dimmed to add to the ambience. The room's calming theme of light blues and greys wrapped him in a cool blanket. He could wait until tomorrow to walk. But rest wouldn't come easy for him. Flashes, no, memories clouded his sight. He could see blood plaguing his sheets, his skin, he could even feel the pain in his back again. The pain in his chest sparked up, and his shoulder seared as the memories of his arm being cut off came back. He cried out in pain, wishing for it to stop. His eyes were squeezed shut in agony, and he could feel tears welling up in them, responding to the pain.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead, and with a jerk, Genji woke up. His head felt very warm, and he could see the worried face of Angela looking down at him. He only raised an eyebrow in question.

"Is everything alright? You were screaming in your sleep, and you seem to have a small fever."

"I… I am fine. Thank you, doctor."

Angela frowned, as if she was unconvinced. Genji ignored it and rubbed his jaw. It was good to not have to wear the damned contraption.

"Well, if you say so. However, I'm afraid we'll have to check if that truly is a fever or if we prematurely close up you amputations. How is your jaw feeling?"

"Good?"

"I hope so. Until the time comes, you will have no need for the mask. But if you ever feel pain, please tell me immediately."

Genji nodded, and his scarred face lit up at the news of having a freed jaw. He was almost overjoyed for a moment, but when Angela left he was plunged into silence. That silence bred boredom and loneliness, his lips twisted into a frown, and from that boredom grew impatience. His brows furrowed, attempting to think of something that he could do. From that impatience, frustration was born, and it fanned the flame of anger which had never been extinguished. He let out a loud groan to the ceiling. When would he finally be able to walk again, to talk to others, to do something? His one arm pounded on the bed. He wanted to fight something, destroy something, break something. With irritated fingers he twisted the bed sheets into his fist. This wasn't fair. Why did Hanzo to go unharmed, unscathed from the millions of wounds he delivered to Genji. Where was his brother now, commanding men and drinking tea with officials? Forgetting all about his younger brother who lay in a bed, missing three limbs and having nothing to do but brood. Why did he get all the high life? Genji had nothing, not even a single personal belonging, but an arm. An arm he could do nothing with, absolutely nothing.

In rage he lifted the sheets, and finding nothing else to do, slammed them back into the bed.

"It's not fair," he yelled to himself. There was no way to express his emotions, and so he eventually gave up and let the anger subside. It turned back into loneliness and tired him, so he slept.