Old regrets. [ Genji ]

The last time he had stepped foot in this castle, had been when he was giving Hanzo the chance to truly find it in him to forgive himself. He'd been used as a weapon to fight and eliminate the Shimada clan during the time that Overwatch was still together, this place carried little more than tainted memories, any good soiled by the horrors this castle had faced, and the building itself still bore the scars. Seeing the blood and arrows still littering the walls and wooden flooring brought a hollow feeling. He and his brother had Lost one another here, it was a memory he preferred to keep buried.

And he didn't know what had brought him back again, perhaps there was still a homesickness inside of him that longed desperately for days he could never get back, when he and Hanzo were brothers, as close as brother should be. He was quiet as he slipped in through one of the windows of the inner sanctum of the castle grounds, avoiding any guards as much as possible. He knew who he would find here, an intrinsic memory, he supposed, and when he saw the older woman sitting stoic, he felt less like a warrior now, and more like a person seeing someone he'd missed more than he realized.

"obaasan..."

"There are not many who are permitted to call me that."

She rose steadily, Naginata gripped in her hand. That voice was familiar to her, somehow. Though the distortion of the mask had ruined the possibility of her really finding out who they were. Her assumption was that this was some kind of assassin. No matter. She could deal with this without alerting the gaurds.

"Tell me. What brings you to Shimada Castle?" She turned, facing the tresspasser. An omnic, of some sort. Either they had true talent with that blade, or it was simply a disposable soldier. She had not had a real fight in ages, and her hope was that this one could provide a true fight. "You are certainly no tourist." Kotone used her other hand to sweep her ponytail over her shoulder, smiling calmly. The art of unnerving one's enemy.

Genji watched as she got to her feet, still as stoic and terrifying as she had ever been, but there was a warmth, in him at least, at seeing the woman. She didn't seem to recognize him, this didn't surprise him. There was something achingly familiar about this confrontation, "I know. You only ever allowed a few." There was a slight chuckle to his voice, a fond expression hidden by the mask on his face. This was a woman who had taught him everything he knew, and she was just as intimidating now as she had been then.

"Ghosts always return to the place they fell, eventually." He had not intended to fight, but if she motioned to attack him he would do so, confident that that at least would show her who he was. He didn't allow any nerves to show as he moved his hand up to rest gently on the grip of his sword, ready to defend himself should he need to. He didn't intend to harm her, only to repel whatever she threw at him if it came to that.