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He wonders why he’s doing this to himself. It’s been years since he’s been back here and he’s already had a showdown with his brother, revealed he was alive to him and then escaped from his own family’s grounds.
But something inside him says that he won’t find closure until he sees the stone they gave him. There’s no body there, there never has been. But it was where his friends would have gone to be close to him. It almost feels like there is a whole other Genji residing within that stone. One that stopped growing on that night ten years ago. He thinks he should reconcile that Genji with the one he has become.
What he doesn’t expect when he rounds the corner into the graveyard is to see you there. He hasn’t seen you in over ten years and yet you look just as beautiful as he remembers, if not more so. He thought about you constantly just after joining Overwatch. He hated himself knowing you were probably crying. A lot. And over him no less. Or rather over the man he used to be.
Genji isn’t proud of who he was when it came to romantic relationships. Now he thinks he was too flippant about them. But you had been his first and only love. And he hadn’t had a clue how to deal with that. Which led to a lot of fights and him saying things he didn’t mean and never would. You never left him, even when he gave you ample reason to. And once when he asked you why you said it was because you loved him.
He hadn’t known how to respond to that. It shook him to his core. No one had ever seriously said those words to him in a romantic context. And he found they resonated in his heart. He couldn’t find the words to reply so he kissed you instead, hoping you could feel how he felt for you in the way he thrust his tongue into your mouth and in the way he held you close. That was also the first time he had ever actually made love to someone. And it was the last time too. That had been the night before his death. The last time he saw you: beautiful and naked and lying in your bed, dreaming contently.
He snuck out of your house that morning. The fear of commitment getting the better of him. He remembers vaguely gasping the words when he had been with you that night. Garbled as they were and in Japanese. He wonders offhandedly if you remember that. He thinks you might, given your presence here.
He watches you for a long moment. You are on your knees before his stone, a crease in your brow and a profoundly sad look in your eyes. He doesn’t have a plan when he approaches you, just knows that he can’t stand to see you look that way any longer. He had hoped that you might have moved on, but if you are here...perhaps he may be able to ease your heart. He has no illusions of sweeping in and picking up where you left off. He wouldn’t even know how to do that.
But he wants to speak to you again. To hear your voice. To see your eyes light up when you smile. So approach you he does. He deliberately makes his footfall audible, but even still you do not look up. He clears his throat and calls your name softly. And you freeze. Your entire body stiffens like you’ve just been shocked. Well, he concedes, you have just gotten a shock. You turn to him slowly, your eyes wide and your face paler than normal. “W-who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering like you’re afraid of the answer.
“I think you already know.” he says gravely, suddenly thankful and irritated that he’s wearing a faceplate. He braces himself and removes it, trying his hardest not to shift uncomfortably under your gaze.
You don’t react how he expects you to. He was expecting anger or yelling or something negative. But you don’t give him that. You were always surprising him. He does not meet your eyes when you slowly approach him. When you are just a foot away you throw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. Genji catches you out of instinct, his own arms circling your waist. “I knew it.” you breathe and he can hear the smile in your voice.
He is stunned. He deserves anger and cursing and crying not you being so happy to see him. He does not deserve you, he never did. But he is far too selfish to force you away for your own good. “How...?” he asks, bewilderment plain on his face when you pull away and gaze up at him. He has changed in 10 years. More than most people do, certainly, and yet you still look upon him with that same warm affection that he had coveted from the moment you met.
You shake your head, tears spilling down your cheeks, but your smile is so wide he thinks it may hurt. “I don’t know. I don’t, I just...I knew you were alive. Somehow I...I just felt it. I know that sounds dumb and cheesy and it probably doesn’t even make sense but it’s the truth I-” He cuts you off with the warmth of his lips crashing against yours.
For a split second he expects you to push him away, to slap him and ask him how dare he presume that you are still his, that you have been waiting for him all this time. But you surprise him again. The arms around his neck tighten, your lips parting for him when he seeks entrance, your chest pressed to his.
He can feel your heart thundering beneath your rib cage and he wonders if you can feel his. Surely this is not a fairy tale. One kiss after ten years of separation and thinking one party may be dead does not fix every problem. But it’s a start. He knows it will be an uphill battle. He has some serious apologizing to do, but this is one battle that Genji Shimada looks forward to.