Archive of Our Own

It is unbearably cold in the old estate. Hanzo thought the weather had been chilly outside; now, the light drizzle of rain carried the fresh wind and the dark woods outside seemed a whole lot appealing. The moment he set a toe in the mansion, the heat drained from his body faster than if he had entered a tub full of ice.
In spite of an instinct older than humanity urging Hanzo to run away, he cannot and will not leave the premises until he is done with his assignment. He has prepared for this day, the day he would be put to the test, the moment he could walk.

His only source of light, an oil lantern meant to last till morning should he use it wisely and sparsely, casts a warm glow onto decrepit furniture and stained walls. Hanzo lit it to get a better look at his surroundings, but the shadows flickering with the flame play with his perception. For a chilling moment, he confuses the holes of a moldy folding screen for bleak eyes spying his every moves.
Perhaps he did see them. No one knows the full extent of what lingers in these abandoned ruins. It is his mission to uncover that.

Hanzo raises the lantern a little higher and ventures further into the main hall. Not only he is supposed to survive the night, he has to investigate the curse plaguing this place.
Those are the goals solemnly bestowed upon him during the preparative ceremony, but he has set his own even higher; ending the curse for good and cleanse this place before morning. If he knows his father well, and he does, that is the result expected and no less.

A knock brings Hanzo's attention to a round window just down a corridor. He hesitates at first, then moves onward with caution. This could be his first encounter alone and unassisted, he must proceed more carefully than ever. One mistake is all it takes…

Hanzo does not leap when a figure abruptly shows up on the other side of the window, but he did bite the inside of his cheek. The sting almost brings tears to his eyes, but it is quickly swept under relieved anger as he recognizes the person on the other side.
“Genji,” he whispers irritatedly, “you should not be here! What are you doing?”
The moonlight peeking through rainclouds gives Genji's boyish face a ghostly sheen. Hanzo idly imagines conjuring his annoying brother away; surely it would be simple.
“Watching you shit yourself. How are things going so far?
- Perfectly fine until you showed up. Again, you are not supposed to be here. This is not a game, it is dangerous!
- I know! Which is why my awesome self came to bring you this,” Genji teases, not at all ashamed of his newest transgression.
The blocky flashlight he rests on the windowsill is covered with stickers. Hanzo stares at it with a frown. “I already have light,” he points out, raising the lantern, “besides, I am not allowed to receive assistance.”
Genji scoffs. “What, that old thing? You'll drop it and set this whole place on fire.
- I am not as clumsy as you are, butter-fingers,” Hanzo snickers.
“It happened only once. Just say so if you don't want it, I'll take it back and leave you to your miserable lantern.”

Hanzo looks at the flashlight, then back at his brother. A thought occurs to him and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “You are worried about me. Do you have so little faith in my skills,” he asks, his throat tight.
Genji checks over his shoulder, then shakes his head. “I know you will make it, stubborn as you are. But I don't like how Otosan and the Elders throw every possible stick in the mud on your path. What's wrong with having a little help along the way? Suppose you find something useful left by some previous explorer. Are you supposed to leave it in the dust and struggle all the way?
- What I am supposed to do is handling this on my own with the resources I have,” Hanzo reminds him sternly.
Genji does not stand down. “And you expect me to believe that you, of all people, would come to a haunting spot with nothing but a flimsy old oil lamp? No, you would definitely bring a flashlight like a normal person. And a lantern because you're paranoid and old-fashioned. So take it or don't, I don't care,” he adds flippantly.

Hanzo sighs, then gets a hold of the handle and further examines the flashlight. He knows that it is much brighter than this lantern, and two limited light sources are better than one.
“The batteries are still good?
- Brand new. They won't last all night, obviously, but it'll be a nice reprieve from that antic thing. I expect you to return the favor when it will be my turn, or I'll tell Otosan that you cheated,” Genji says with a knowing grin, “good luck Hanzo!”
As he turns around to leave, Hanzo reaches out and brushes his shoulder. “Please return safely,” he whispers.

For a split second, Genji's insolent smile turns soft. “See you tomorrow,” he hums teasingly before he heads away.

Hanzo watches him leave until he is fully out of sight, then he holds the flashlight up and flips the switch.
The bulb flashes a fierce yellow light that reaches deeper into the darkness. It is undeniably better than the lantern, although Hanzo will now have to worry about the duration of the batteries. Hopefully Genji was not lying when he said he changed them beforehand.

With renewed focus, Hanzo decides to return to the hall and leave the lantern there for the time being. He cannot walk around with so much equipment, he needs to be able to move uncluttered and the Camera Obscura is heavy enough.

As he turns around, he stills.
The corridor has changed.

It is now endless and dark, impenetrably dark despite the flashlight being on. Hanzo looks the other way and sees nothing either. The floor, the walls, everything has changed. He is no longer in the cursed estate.

Snip snap snip

“Genji,” Hanzo calls, seized with rising horror. This cannot be happening here, not again. This is illogical, yet his first and foremost thought is to find and protect his brother.
If he can get to him in time, maybe he can stop it and-
A knock behind him keeps him from running ahead into the darkness. A figure is there at the window, right where Genji was standing moments ago. But it is not him on the other side.

“Hanzo? Breakfast's ready.”

Hanzo startles awake in bed, overheated and sweaty. His shirt sticks uncomfortably to his back.
“You awake in there? Thought I heard ya talk… hope I'm not disturbing you,” Cole says in a sheepish tone on the other side of the door, “figured you'd wanna eat something before our rendezvous.”

Hanzo looks aside at the table clock by his bed. The hands are still.
With a groan, he sits up and rubs his face. “I will be there in a few,” he grumbles, trying to shake off the uneasiness and distress still clinging to his mind.

Dreams are not unusual to Hanzo, far from it. Some are even premonitions, for his gift of sight follows him from the waking world to the depths of unconsciousness. What bothers him is the fact that Cole heard him speak, and there is no way Hanzo will ask what he thinks he heard. He would rather not know and never speak of it again.

“Okay then,” Cole replies before he leaves not so quietly. Either Hanzo was so deep in unconsciousness he failed to hear him approach the door, or the man can be as quiet as a mouse when he must sneak around.
Regardless, the wind charm attached to the ceiling would have alerted him in case of an intrusion.

–

“Hope you don't mind me using your kitchen,” Cole hums as he puts the plate in front of Hanzo. His version of a breakfast is very different from his host's; scrambled eggs, bacon and buttery toasts.
“As long as you keep it clean and free of dirty dishes,” Hanzo murmurs absently. He is staring at his coffee mug with a frown, like it is peculiarly insulting. Cole figures he got up on the wrong foot and focuses on his breakfast instead.
Then Hanzo speaks again.
“I apologize for oversleeping. That is unbecoming of me and unprofessional. It will not happen again.”

Cole looks up owlishly. “Don't remember setting ground rules about the times, but apology accepted anyway. Besides, it doesn't feel right letting you handle all the chores while I'm here. Figured I could contribute too, do my part as well as paying you some rent. You're saving me from hotel fees while I use your hot water, your appliances and your food.”

Hanzo's stare moves onto Cole. There is no trace of the restless sleep, only the hyper vigilance and sharpness that seem to make ninety-nine percent of the man; he has yet to uncover what that elusive one percent is made of.
“I will accept nothing higher or lower than half of what I pay monthly,” Hanzo declares finitely, “and you will have to participate in the groceries as well.
- Didn't expect to pay any lower than a fair amount,” Cole replies smoothly before he shovels a piece of egg-covered toast in his mouth. He had no intention of bargaining with his contribution, but he is sleeping on the floor in the living-room and implicitly forbidden from drawing a bath unless Hanzo says so. Not exactly on par with his expectations for the hotel, although Hanzo's flat has two bonuses; it did not burn down to the ground, and it harbors one good-looking son of a gun. A very handsome man that could probably make him disappear off the face of the planet… but with a face to die for.

“And the groceries,” Hanzo asks insistently. His eyebrows are pinching in annoyance, as if he can hear Cole's very thoughts. Cole dearly hopes that it is not the case, otherwise he is a dead man. While it is not his fault that Hanzo is distractingly gorgeous, he has to keep his focus on the job.
“Does a pro rata share sound good to you,” Cole tentatively offers, eager to snack on the bacon cooling in his plate.

Hanzo considers the cup of coffee again with less contempt. “We will discuss this later,” he replies as a form of agreement. Calculus is the last thing he wants to do right now, and that greasy breakfast does appeal to him after all.

Much to his surprise, he finds nothing to complain about with the food.

–

The schoolgirl (Kirie Saito, Cole reminds himself) is nervous, understandingly so. Dealing with something as unpleasant as horror-based dares and peer pressure after transferring schools is bad enough for a student with a clean record, telling it all to two strange men who look menacing no matter how harmless they try to appear is another challenge. Or at least Cole is trying to appear harmless, while Hanzo is all direct stares and frowns. It could be his default face for all Cole knows.

Hanzo is not actually mad at Saito herself. As far as he is concerned, she did everything right. She first took matters to the authorities, then turned to other capable adults when she realized said authorities would not do.
The truth is that Hanzo is irritated by the circumstances that led to her presence here.

It has only been a few days since Kana, his neighbor and one of the occult connoisseurs on his side, left the hospital. Already they have resumed their favorite pastime; getting on Hanzo's nerves and up in his business beyond what is reasonable.
They casually mentioned having an acquaintance in need of peculiar assistance, as if Hanzo did not have a sizable workload to tackle and a partnership in progress with a paranormal investigator self-proclaimed witch cowboy.
Hanzo could have turned Kana's proposal down, he has already done so in the past. But after what happened and despite their reiterated forgiveness, he still feels guilty over their injury. And the only way he can dissipate some of the guilt, which reaches abysmal depths nowadays, is to atone through action.

Thus Hanzo accepted to receive, in his secret headquarters, a high-schooler who is clearly no more thrilled about this than he is.

Thankfully, Kana's presence in the small living-room helps tremendously with the interaction. The moment they smile and nod encouragingly at the student, Saito seems to remember how to talk.
“So… there is this new game that has been spreading among my friends. A dare to stay in the unused school restrooms after classes,” she explains, nervously fiddling with the strap of her bag.
“And what is its purpose, miss,” Hanzo inquires. He does not bother asking why the hell her friends would do something so stupid, it is a waste of everyone's time. Some teenagers get thrills from transgressing, Genji was one prime example in his youth.

“The dare was to meet Aka Manto,” Saito says with a stutter.
While the name evokes nothing to Cole, it visibly rings a bell to his 'associates'. Kana gives Hanzo a side stare, which he pointedly does not return. The way he subtly squares his shoulders does not escape Cole's attention.

“It was not- it was meant to be harmless fun, to test our courage, that sort of thing. I don't believe in curses,” Saito hastily adds, clutching her fingers, “but then… last week, a boy was found in the restrooms. Dead.”
Her composure crumbles and Kana walks to her, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Our principal banned the game, but it's only become more popular as a result,” the girl continues, her voice breaking, “one of my friends doesn't think the curse is real. He told me he wants to try again, and I'm scared he will be next! Please put an end to this before something happens to him too!”

She stands from her chair and bows deeply, her shoulders quaking and her fists bunching up the fabric of her vest.
Cole looks at the back of Hanzo's head. He promised not to intervene and let him handle the interview, but it is uncomfortable to be begged of the sort and not offer any comfort. Teenagers are foolish, there will always be innocent ones who fuck around and find out the hard way. Harmless fun turned deadly is not as rare as he would like it to be.
Staying fifty percent true to his promise, he gets the box of tissue sitting on the coffee table and puts it in the girl's reach so she may have some.

Hanzo throws Cole a glance, but the cowboy is only showing some compassion. He supposes he should try and not be so hard on this girl, she did come here to try and right the wrongs of her friends. Still, it is becoming increasingly difficult not to be irked by children messing with things they do not comprehend.
It does not help that it stirs distant echoes from the past. History has an awful tendency to repeat itself when it is not haunting scarred minds.
“We will look into this and do our best,” Hanzo says, giving Saito's shoulder a pat. As she looks up with teary eyes, he hands her a pencil and a note-block. “Please give us the address of your school and the name of your friend. Then you will go back to class, focus on your studies and you, as well as your other friends, stay out of this. Do you understand? This is very important, Saito-san.”

–

“Ever done a dangerous dare?”
Hanzo shakes his head and increases his walking speed. Cole follows in stride, aided by his long legs. The rhythmic tingling of his spurs is almost hypnotic. “Me neither. But then I spent more time out of school than inside, and we didn't really do dares back in town. Between ranch work and the rough wild around us, we didn't need to spice our existence like these kids do. After one night alone on coyote watch with an old lantern and some rusty rifle, no ghost story out there is terrifying enough.”

Hanzo finds almost admirable the ease with which Cole fills the silence between them with small meaningful talk. Before, freshly after their first meeting, he thought the man was just trying to be cordial and establish a bond.
It is becoming increasingly clear that Cole, despite an ability to value silence, is unfortunately one chatty man.

“So, Aka Manto uh? What's the red cloak about,” Cole asks on the tone of the conversation, or rather the monologue he has started some minutes ago.
Hanzo stops and looks up at his partner, who pauses just as abruptly. “How much time were you given to prepare before you came here?”
Cole stares back without a shadow of sheepishness. “Not long enough to study your legends, rituals and all the local things that may come close or far to our daily routine. I'm guessing in this case that it ain't that deep, since this was brought to us as a dare between kids. Unless digging up forgotten old books in dubious antic shops is something the kids do nowadays.”

Hanzo sighs. “Your assumption is correct. In this case, we are dealing with an urban legend. To make a long story short, Aka Manto is usually described as a masked being cloaked in red, who appears to people using public toilets or school bathrooms. There are different accounts of the legend, it is not even established whether Aka Manto is a spirit, a ghost or a yokai, but one consistent element is that it will ask the occupant of the toilet a question. In some versions, Aka Manto will ask if the occupant want red paper or blue paper, sometimes other kinds of fabric. Most stories agree on one fact; you must not accept anything from Aka Manto or try to outsmart it. If you do either things, you die.”

Cole makes a face. “Of all places, why are school bathrooms always the hot spot for hauntings?
- I would not know, I was homeschooled,” Hanzo dismisses, “my brother thinks it has something to do with teens full of emotions and anguish seeking refuge in restrooms. They unintentionally fill the walls with darkness and resentment up to a breaking point.
- You say this as if you've never been a teenager.
- I was not given that opportunity.”
Hanzo's deadpan delivery makes it hard for Cole to tell if it is a joke or a fact. The latter is sadly likely; it is rather difficult to imagine Hanzo as a little kid marveling at butterflies or flying a kite, and even more so as a pimply high-schooler who's sole concern is getting good grades.

It was not all sunshine and rainbows at home, far from that, even discounting his upbringing as a witch. But Cole does remember happy moments, pearls of light neatly tucked in complicated folds of rust-colored fabric.
Hanzo strikes him as the kind of man who has never known anything but darkness. If there is the slightest spark of joy somewhere in him, it must be locked in a casket and buried deep for self-preservation.
Perhaps the secret one percent.

Hanzo resumes walking and Cole falls back in his rhythm. This time, he decides to give his partner some space and silence.

–

It is almost unsettling to enter the school through the front gate instead of sneaking in through the dustbin area. Cole is not complaining though, breaking in would be a sure way to add more problems to the pile. Especially when this is a busy school day and the yard is filled with students.

While Hanzo heads inside to talk with the principal, Cole hangs out in the yard and spots the girl who talked to them earlier, Kirie Saito. She is with three other students who seem to be her friends.
As they throw curious gazes at him, he deems safe to approach them. Gossip is always a source of information, good or bad. And with the heatwave going on today, he would not mind joining them in the shadow of the building. The desert forged his tolerance for dry heats, but it cannot keep the heavy humidity from wearing him down.

“Hey there, Saito-san and company,” Cole greets with a tip of his hat, “me and my good friend are looking into the strange business going on down here. I was hoping for a chat with you if that's-
- You are American, right,” one of Saito's friends cuts, not remotely intimidated. She is looking pretty thrilled actually, like she is meeting a celebrity. Saito cringes visibly.
Cole does not mind. If the fascination can help the investigation, he will play up on it. So he removes his hat for a fancy salute and grins. “Yes ma'am,” he says in English.
The young lady marvels noisily and he fans himself with the Stetson before he shoves it back on his hair. “Now, you see, I got some questions and I hope you'd be kind to lend me your knowledge…”

–

“Thank you for your time,” Hanzo says with a polite bow, to which the principal answers with gratitude.
Much to his relief, the principal agreed to keep Saito's friend out of school for the day and bar access to the old restrooms. With the boy safe for now, Hanzo can spare to look deeper into the legend with Cole. While he never cared for urban legends, he knows some to be built on truth; it is not ludicrous to believe Aka Manto may have deeper roots than some made-up scary story.
After all, legends stem from unexplained events. Human mind abhors a vacuum.

When Hanzo finds Cole chatting up with female students in the school yard, he winces. The cowboy is such an eyesore, he is a walking spectacle to these teenagers.
Too annoyed to walk over, he whistles and signs at Cole to come over. His partner waves his goodbyes at the students and walks toward Hanzo, a tension in his smile.
“Don't ever do that again. I'm not your dog,” he says the moment Hanzo is within earshot, an edge to his casual tone.
“Don't act like one and I shall refrain from treating you of the sort,” Hanzo retorts.
Cole does a double-take at him. “Excuse me, but I wasn't doing whatever you accuse me of. I may not look the part, I'm a professional mind you.”

Realizing he is dangerously close to commit a serious blunder, Hanzo hastily changes the subject. “What were you doing talking to them?
- Fishing for info. What, you don't ever do that?
- Not with teenagers, no. They are too unreliable and I cannot pry the truth from them like I would with adults.
- Your loss. Did you know that some students have seen something strange lurking in the pool of the school a few times? And that strange lights appear in the sky around the lighthouse at night?
- If I needed to know all the silly rumors and urban legends that are traded in the schoolyard, I would go straight to Kana,” Hanzo huffs. Before Cole can be tempted to counter-argue, he raises a hand. “Anyway, we are in luck. The principal heard me out, he is going to send Saito's friend home, close the access to the old restrooms and expel any student who partakes in the Aka Manto dare.
- Okay… what's our next move then?
- The library downtown. This legend did not come from nowhere, and understanding its ramifications could help us solve this case.
- You don't think it's an unrelated crime committed by a real physical person? Like, maybe the dead boy was stabbed by a fellow student who's using this peculiar context as a cover-up?”

Hanzo throws a look around, then takes Cole inside an empty classroom. They should not be discussing this in the corridors, someone could be listening.
“I did some prior investigating the day before our meeting with Saito-san,” Hanzo retorts. He tugs a file out of his vest and holds it under Cole's nose until his partner finally snatches it from his hand. “Since Saito-san went to the police in the first place, the officers led an investigation on her friend's death. The old restrooms only have one access, and there is a camera filming the corridor. The deceased student is the only soul who went inside, no one else was spotted entering or leaving on the available records. There is a window in the restrooms, but it can only be opened from the inside and it is much too small for a person to fit through. As a result, the death was classified as a suicide. In spite of the numerous stab wounds on the victim and the inexplicable absence of a weapon on the scene.”
Cole flips through the few pages of the file. “So that is why you went out so late last night? 'Borrowing' info from the police?”
Hanzo returns his stare. “I saved us time, didn't I? And you do not need to know all my sources, especially those working for the police. The last thing we need is authorities taking interest in the one and only yankee present in Shiokawa and working to link you to all the events who took place following your arrival. And that would not be too difficult, frankly.”

Cole shuts the file and hands it back to Hanzo, a quip on the tip of his tongue. He is finding his partner peculiarly tart, and he is getting a little tired of being the receiving end of his moods.

He never says it though, as he takes notice of the classroom. He did not really pay attention to it before; it is actually a computer room.
“Hey, you don't think we should check those? It's accessible to all the students, maybe we should take a look in the shared database and see if anything stands out,” Cole suggests on a whim. As boring as the idea seems, he would gladly take this distraction before their conversation goes further South.
Hanzo frowns, mulls over the suggestion. As he fails to find anything wrong with it, he nods wordlessly and heads to the nearest desk.
Cole stares at the back of his head, then sighs and moves over to the second nearest computer. He is not sure of what he did to ruffle Hanzo's feathers, but that will have to wait. Talking with the principal may have bought them time, it is nonetheless limited.
There is no such thing as being ahead of time when doom awaits in the near future.

After a fifteen minutes search, Cole is a little behind. The operating system is different from what he is used to, and his reading speed is slower than Hanzo's. His only advantage is that he is extra cautious and has less chances of skipping anomalies, still he is stressed to be only through one third starting from the bottom of the data list while Hanzo is just shy from two thirds down the top.

He is skimming through a boring flowchart when Hanzo stiffens and leans closer to the screen. He has a text file opened and his eyes jump from one line to another, his expression hard.
Then just as Cole is about to ask if it is something interesting, Hanzo shuts the window and furiously hits the delete key, several times more than necessary, until the file is definitely and permanently erased.
“Occult instructions. Detailed occult instructions right within the reach of teenagers,” Hanzo hisses through his teeth, livid.
“Anything Aka Manto-related,” Cole asks, refreshing the database on his screen. The one incriminated file did disappear, much to his relief.
Hanzo shakes his head. “Something worse,” he grumbles. Then he turns the computer off and stands abruptly. “I already looked at everything else, that was the only anomaly. Let's go.”

Cole stares back at the now harmless database. Who could have left such a file there? And why is Hanzo so privy about details?
Whatever those instructions were about, it is something Hanzo must have dealt with. Bad memories perhaps? Cole would not blame him if he does not feel like sharing. Gods know he has some caseloads under the counter, some even a good whisky could not convince him to pull them out.

He shuts the computer down and follows Hanzo outside of the classroom. His partner has regained his composure, at least in appearance.

The truth is that Hanzo could not be more perturbed. Hopefully they caught this malevolent deed in time…
If it had not been for Cole's suggestion, who knows what consequences would have ensued?
The worst is that he knows actually, and it sickens him to his stomach.

–

The trip to the library is quiet and uneventful. Or as uneventful as Hanzo would deem it.
He did think for a moment that he had spotted an occultist right in the middle of the street, only to remember that he knew the individual in question. He had already mistaken him for a person of interest before. Who would not frown upon a shady-looking man wearing a jacket covered in strange symbols?
Before pursuing his target inside a house, Hanzo had asked the waiter of a restaurant nearby if they had seen him before. The waiter had kindly explained that the man is a part of a tabletop role-playing community.
Hanzo had left, awfully embarrassed yet relieved.

“Hey, doesn't that guy look weird to you,” Cole mutters, leaning to whisper near Hanzo's shoulder, “just ahead, with the funky sign on his vest. That's the Elder Sign, it means no good.”
Hanzo is not certain of what Elder Cole is referring to, but he is not so petty he will lead Cole on. “Do not mind him, he is a harmless nerd,” he retorts.
Cole looks back at the questionably-fashioned individual. “Oh,” is all he says, shoulders slumping.

For a second, Hanzo feels somewhat relieved that he was not the only one fooled by adults too involved in pretend games.
“That does explain why his jacket says nonsense,” Cole hums thoughtfully.
Hanzo almost stops in the middle of the busy street. “Nonsense?
- Yeah. The eldritch sigils look legit, but the writings in R'lyehian are absolute gibberish. Poor guy might not know he was scammed, or he does and it's an inside joke, or he hopes nobody around is a bigger nerd than he is.”
Hanzo looks over his shoulder and watches the man disappear in the crowd. “What does his jacket say?
- Basically, 'I sleep eternally, a worthless father, chicken soup'.
- You made up the last one, didn't you.
- How would you know? You don't seem familiar with these peculiar signs.”

In conclusion, uneventful.
Yet Hanzo finds that his stress level has come down a little notch. Interactions with Cole Cassidy are like tossing a coin; one might end up peeved or appeased.
That ratio is approximately nine to one in Hanzo's case.

At the library, Hanzo tries to find information about Aka Manto while Cole searches for any local event connected to the restrooms where the body was found; if this Aka Manto is not behind the crime, then a haunting is the likeliest lead.

Hanzo hits a dead end unexpectedly fast. Little is known about the true origins of the Aka Manto myth. As he feared, it seems to be less of a legend and more a schoolyard rumor that propagated throughout the country, entirely built on unresolved murders and unconnected deaths shrouded in mystery.
Hanzo shuts the book and shoves it back in its slot a little too hard.
“Correlation does not mean causation. Keep your vision and your mind open. Rule out what is proven wrong until the truth emerges.”
He knows this, he knows. This is only the beginning of the case, it could be anything and there is a risk that Aka Manto is a red herring to send them on a wild goose-chase. But the last time he was in a similar situation…
He cannot do the same mistakes again.

Someone beside him snaps their fingers.
“Hey,” Cole whispers, “I found something.”
Hanzo promptly abandons his spiral and rushes to Cole's side, looking over his shoulder. The cowboy has a bunch of old newspapers spread out in front of him. He points at an article in a small column.
“This news item is about a young doctor performing surgery on the victim of a brutal assault, which happened in a toilet stall of that peculiar restroom… this could be the key to our case. Maybe he still works at the local hospital? We could go and ask him for information.”
Hanzo skims through the article and smooths his beard thoughtfully. “It says that the surgery was life-saving. The date is from a while back though, it is possible that the victim has died since… this is a lead we can follow. Good work.”

He starts gathering the newspapers by date to help Cole put it all back in place when he notices how still his partner is. “What is it,” he murmurs, confused.
“Did you just compliment me,” Cole replies, dumbfounded.
Hanzo ponders, then the hint of a smile stretches his lips. “Ants go for sweet things,” he whispers back before he stacks the documents and puts them back in the organizer.
“Dunno if I take kindlier to being called an ant over a fly, but I sure don't mind getting honey over vinegar,” Cole snickers.

The librarian shushes them and they bow their heads in contrite apology.

–

“He has left suddenly? How come?”

Cole and Hanzo are back at the apartment. While Cole updates Kana on their current progress, Hanzo is on the phone with a hospital clerk. At least, his partner is doing a wonderful job at keeping Kana distracted, for he is pretending to be a fellow doctor and he does not need to be poked fun at during his performance.

He looks out the window while the clerk talks his ear out; the sun is just shy of setting. How has the day gone by so fast? He does not even remember what they had for lunch.

“Ah, he did not say. Do you know where… that is very unfortunate. It is alright, you are not to blame. Thank you very much for your help,” Hanzo replies as lightly as he can, grimacing. Then he hangs up before the clerk can serve him more platitudes.

“The doctor left the hospital suddenly after the latest murder,” Hanzo declares bluntly, cutting through the debate Cole and Kana are having over tabletop role-playing, “he took all of his records with him. No note was found, he did not tell anyone where he was heading.”
Cole's shoulders sag in disappointment. “Why the hell would he do that? Talk about suspicious behaving.
- Whatever his reasons were, we do not have the means or time to track him down. This trail ends here,” Hanzo grunts, rubbing his temples.

Someone starts knocking on the entrance door urgently, and Cole springs up from the couch. “I'll handle it,” he says before Hanzo can budge.
If this is his way of giving him a little reprieve, well… it is appreciated.

It does not last long though.
The rapid knocking turns out to be a fully-panicked Saito. The girl's face is glistening and she is struggling to catch her breath. “Sir! My friend, he is missing,” she claims before Hanzo can ask her what is wrong, “I went to his house to bring him notes and his parents told me he has not come home!”
Kana comes running and leads Saito to the couch. “Saito-chan, are you sure? Maybe he went to the arcades.
- I already checked! I went to every single one of our usual hangouts… even the secret ones he thought I didn't know about…”
She swallows back a sob and Cole hands her an unopened soda. “He might have gone to a different place? Somewhere only he knows about,” he suggests despite the bad feeling he has in his guts.
Saito shakes her head. “We are childhood friends, we have no secrets… the reason I came running here is because I heard that another body has been found in a different school this morning.” Her voice breaks and tears run down her face. “Aka Manto is real and he is going to kill my friend!”

Cole looks over at Hanzo. He is tightly gripping his own arms, yet his face reveals no emotion whatsoever.
A picture of composure… or an airtight mask.
“Get your things. We are going back to the school right now,” he tells Cold without ceremony, “Kana, you stay with this girl. Do not let her out of your sight,” Hanzo says before he marches into his office.

Kana is reasonable enough not to argue.

–

Whether it is because of this new death or due to the relentless Aka Manto craze, the principal had the school closed for the rest of the day. Cole and Hanzo have to break a window in order to get inside the old building; the allegedly cursed toilet is located on the third floor and the walls are too smooth for climbing

It is getting late. The sun has disappeared from the horizon and natural light is slowly giving way to darkness. Neither Cole nor Hanzo knows if they will get to the student in time, or if he is truly here to begin with. Still they make haste through the corridors, calling the boy's name.

Cole thought the school looked unpleasant in the daylight, but it is even worse at night. The bare corridors are filled with sharp shadows, the silence is thicker than tar and the absence of souls is eerie. It is simply wrong that a place buzzing with life during the day is suddenly quieter than a cemetery at night.
At some point, he is sure he ran past an open door that was not meant to be there, nor led to anywhere.
More importantly, it should not have pulled him in.
Thankfully, the urgency of the situation forced him to keep running down the corridor, only a few steps behind Hanzo.
It is just the two of them racing to save a dumb teenager, they cannot spread themselves thin onto every single event encountered.

–

Much to Hanzo's anger, the only thing baring the way to the cursed restrooms is one loose piece of signaling tape. The cherry on top is the piece of paper stapled to the tape, on which 'no entry allowed' was hastily written.
“Some measures,” Hanzo grumbles as he holds the tape up for Cole to walk under, “if I see the principal again…”
He lets the threat hang in the air, but one thing is certain; that man will have hell to pay if Saito's friend turns up dead.

“You handle the women's room, I'll check the men's,” Cole says before he rushes left. There is no turning back now, a boy's life hangs in the balance.
Hanzo takes a deep breath and heads for the door on the right.

–

There is no one inside the restrooms, much to Cole's surprise. He minutely checks every stall, even going inside the fourth to see if he finds any sign suggesting that Saito's friend came here.
If the boy had gone through with it and summoned Aka Manto, Cole should have found his dead body or some traces of that a ritual took place. Unless he went to the women's room for some unfathomable reason, then Hanzo will find out.

The soft click of the door closing behind Cole startles him so much he nearly bites his tongue. Feeling like an outright fool, he lets out a chuckle. Most toilet doors are tweaked so they always close instead of gaping wide open. His nerves are too shot over nothing.
Because really, there is literally nothing here. He has looked thoroughly and found nothing, not even a spider. He should go and find Hanzo, see if he has secured the damned student. If he has not, then maybe that stupid tape did work at keeping curious cats out. Or their teenager in possible distress is in another restroom somewhere in the school.

Cole turns to exit the stall when a sound makes him freeze on the spot.

The squeaky whine of rubber boots echoes in the restrooms, along with the drip-drop of an unknown liquid falling on the tiles.

Cole stops breathing altogether.

–

“Do you have any idea how worried you've made everyone?!”

Hanzo's fingers are getting numb with how tightly he is gripping the student's collar. He should probably stop shouting and release the terrified boy, who has already apologized profusely and looks on the verge of tears, but he is not willing to let that young imbecile loose yet.

For reasons that are his and his alone, this whole case has hit several of Hanzo's sensitive cords. He has been seething since this morning; yelling at this upright idiot is the best outlet he will ever have.
“Leave this instant and never come back to those restrooms. Ever mess with the occult again, and I will make you regret never meeting Aka Manto in the first place,” Hanzo hisses as he drags the student to the door and shoves him out in the corridor.
After watching the boy run away, he retreats in the women's room to wash his face with cold water. Whether Cole heard him yell his heart out or not, it is best he calms down first before facing him. In his current state, he is at risk of sharing information that he does not trust anyone with.

Frankly, perhaps he does owe Cole an explanation. He has been rude and harsh with him most of the day.
He does not need to remind himself that he already has a debt to Cole for his precious help. He has been here for a short time and already helped him crack a case, not to mention he fought by his side. But how is Hanzo supposed to let someone in when he learned his whole life that a solitary road was his only way forward?

Hanzo presses his cool hands over his face and takes a deep breath, when a sudden noise behind him stops him in his tracks. He parts his fingers and looks up at his reflection.

One of the stall doors has opened on its own.

Unnerved, Hanzo turns around and tries to close the door. It should not have moved of the sort, not without a reason. The window is shut, there are no drafts. And nobody is inside, he checked for shoes and Saito's friend was in the last stall.

But Hanzo's certainties vanish as he fails to fully close the door. Something is actively blocking it.
Wary and resigned, he leans on the side and tries to glance inside the stall.

A pale hand tries to grab his face and he hastily backs off against the sinks.

–

Cole is about to suffocate, but he does not dare make a sound and that includes breathing.

Whoever (or whatever, his brain supplies) is inside the men's room with him walks horribly slow along the stalls. And Cole is deadly certain that it is not Hanzo, as his partner is so damn serious that the idea of him pulling a horrifying prank is as likely as the Shimada brothers singing Kumbaya together.
Unless Hanzo is trying to kill Cole with a heart attack, in which case that is one really elaborate and original way to get rid of him. But where did he get those rain boots? From the women's bathroom?
'Hanzo needs me', Cole's rationale side reminds him, 'and he would not do anything to upset his brother.' It is in his best interest to keep Cole alive, even if he dislikes everything about him.
What is out there is not Hanzo.
Could it be…

As the squeaky rubber boots grow nearer, Cole feels a paralyzing fear take ahold of him. He considers climbing on the toilet to be out of sight, but it is one of those ground urinals with no visible tank. As for sneaking his way under the wall to reach the third stall, that is out of the question; that gap is far too narrow.
Cold dread sinks in his stomach. He cannot even lift his arm to reach in his jacket for the gun sitting in his hidden holster. Or lock the door. He is truly unable to move.
He considers taking a peek, but realizes that he does not need to.
He can see the top of a head near the third stall. They (it?) are taller than any man Cole has ever seen.
Cole feels small all of a sudden, very small and very alone.

Aka Manto, for lack of a likelier suspect, stops in front of his stall. Long fingers with uneven nails curl around the door and pull it open.

Cole gulps. He has no other choice but to prepare himself for whatever is coming.

–

As Hanzo hears a door slam shut behind him, he grits his teeth. Here goes his escape road; all that remains is a direct confrontation.

A girl in a tattered uniform stumbles out of the third stall. Even if she had not already tried to attack Hanzo, the aura surrounding her is a dead giveaway of her real nature; a mist of nefarious energy, reeking of insatiable grudge.
She is a ghost. A ghost out for blood.

Her head twists unnaturally toward Hanzo and produces a rattling guttural noise. How is a mystery; her face is… heavily distorted, to say the least. There is nothing human about it, only an indiscernible black void framed by messy hair. Two fish-like eyes float on the right side like two apples swirling in a water bucket, seemingly glowering at Hanzo.
“You died in truly unfortunate circumstances, did you not,” Hanzo murmurs, slowly reaching inside his vest. If he can get his hand on one of the exorcism spells he brought for the occasion, this whole matter will be solved in seconds without wasting energy.

The toilet ghost leaves him no time. She twitches and stumbles toward Hanzo, lashing out at him.

Her hand flies right through his chest.

–

Aka Manto is, as expected, a figure dressed in a red raincoat. A figure overwhelmingly tall, with an unsettling gaping mask that is oozing liquid. It drips down its chin, onto its crimson-stained collar and occasionally the floor.
There is a sharp-looking knife in the hand that is not holding the door open.

Cole stares, hands hovering stiffly and uselessly at his sides. His mind is drawing a blank, he has no idea what to do. Fight or flight, which would normally be his go to, does not even seem like an available option.
Aka Manto takes one step toward Cole, caging him inside the stall. He resists leaning away, struggling with the bleak terror buzzing in his whole being. Years of experience cannot keep the feeling away, but they can stop it from overcoming him on the spot.

A voice akin to a faulty radio comes out of the mask's mouth. It is so garbled that Cole barely understands it.
“T̴e̷l̴l̵ ̸m̴e̴.̴.̸.̶ ̷w̵o̸u̴l̵d̷ ̸y̶o̴u̷ ̸l̵i̶k̷e̸ ̷r̸e̵d̶ ̴p̵a̴p̴e̵r̴.̵.̵.̵ ̷o̷r̸ ̸b̶l̸u̸e̵ ̸p̵a̵p̵e̵r̵?̸”

Cole opens his mouth, only to realize he has no idea what to say. God damn it, this is the worst time to draw a blank! What did the legend say again? The one Hanzo told him about this morning? God, it feels like that was days ago. Which paper should he choose? He recalls something about how trying to outsmart Aka Manto is bad, he took note of that and underlined it twice. But what choice is the right one? Is there a right one even?
Does he have the slightest shroud of a chance to make it out of this damn stall alive and whole?

Aka Manto seems to lean toward Cole, further encroaching on his personal space. Under the garbled static coming from its mouth, he can make out a deep hollow inhale, like a faulty pipe draining viscous water. The sound makes his whole body shudder. He cannot take it anymore, he is freaking out, fuck this.
“Blue,” Cole blurts out before he can stop himself, “jus' give me the fucking blue you freaky big sack of-!”

Immediately, the tall figure in the red coat grabs Cole by the neck and squeezes, so hard he cannot even gasp for air.
For a terrifying second, all he can do is choke and claw at the vice-like grip.

Then fire pools into his frozen limbs and he kicks toward Aka Manto as hard as he can. His foot gets the freakishly tall being in the hip. It stumbles away and Cole slips out of its loosening fingers. Without hesitation and coughing up a lung, he stumbles toward the exit.
But no matter how hard he is jostling the handle, the door of the restrooms remains firmly shut.

–

Just before the ghost's fingers can do any real harm, Hanzo slips away and skids on the tiles. While a normal person would have assuredly perished from the contact, it takes far more than that to kill a medium. Still, the sensation of ice-cold fingers reaching inside one's body and soul is simply abominable. Hanzo's skin prickles and a chill lingers near his heart.
He clenches his teeth and powers through the sickness. It is unbecoming of a Shimada to be tripped up by a mere ghost. He has let the context of the case affect him too deeply, now he is paying the price of his negligence.
It simply never gets easy when it comes down to teenagers and children, or anything that looks like one. Dead or alive.

There is not much room to evade the ghost's next attacks, but Hanzo has no intention of letting this fight go on any longer. His fingers find one of the precious papers inside his jacket. In one smooth gesture, he pulls the spell out and slaps it on the ghost's torso just as she lashes out at him again.
Her whole frame quivers and ignites the moment the paper sticks to her uniform. She lets out a shrilling wail before she collapses unceremoniously on herself. In a matter of seconds, all that is left of her is a pile of grey dust and ashes on the bathroom tiles.
Hanzo sighs heavily and leans over, letting out the cough he has been holding in.

He gets no respite, as he becomes aware of the row coming from the men's room. A rattling door. Muffled shouting.
Cole.

Without a second thought, Hanzo tears himself from his spot and rushes to the door. It opens wide now that the vengeful spirit that kept it closed has met yet another permanent demise.
Surprisingly, so does the door of the opposite restrooms when Hanzo tries to break it open. He almost falls inside, just barely catching his step.

The click coming from the door locking behind him falls into deaf ears, as he is too shocked by the display before his eyes.
Aka Manto, for who else could be this giant person dressed in a red cloak, is holding Cole by the neck up against the mirrors. The cowboy boots helplessly try to find purchase on the slippery sinks, and Cole's face is taking a worrying shade.

Hanzo sees red.
Without even conjuring the beginning of a thought, he grabs the nearest thing his instinct identifies as a weapon from the corner of the restroom and swings it across Aka Manto's back.
The designated weapon snaps upon impact and Hanzo stares at the remaining half left in his hands, dumbfounded. Of all things, he just hit Aka Manto with a broom.

Albeit not the smartest when facing an unknown foe, Hanzo's epidermic reaction is what saves Cole.

Aka Manto releases Cole's neck and he falls onto the floor, gulping for air. Hands, hot human hands and not those vicious cold pincers, grab Cole and pull him away as far as possible from the cloaked figure. Which is not very far, as the only escape out of this room is still very shut.
Cole looks up and sees Hanzo's face. Hanzo is kneeling and holding him from behind, looking down at him with great concern.
For a moment, Cole forgets about the pain flaring all across his neck at each breath. His fear dispels and a spark of hope returns some of his sanity along with the oxygen in his bloodstream.

Then Aka Manto turns around and Hanzo stares up, knowing it is his turn to face on the enemy. Its garbled question hurts his ears.
“T̴e̷l̴l̵ ̸m̴e̴,” it says, and Hanzo feels Cole jerk in his arms as Aka Manto takes a single step toward them, butcher's knife glistening in its hand, “w̵o̸u̴l̵d̷ ̸y̶o̴u̷ ̸l̵i̶k̷e̸ ̷r̸e̵d̶ ̴p̵a̴p̴e̵r̴.̵.̵.̵ ̷o̷r̸ ̸b̶l̸u̸e̵ ̸p̵a̵p̵e̵r̵?̸”
There is no doubt that they are not getting out of this restroom until someone dies, and Hanzo refuses to let Cole perish for his own sake.
This is not who he is.

Hanzo reaffirms his hold on Cole and takes a deep breath. “I refuse.”
Aka Manto stills. Then it reiterates its question, its voice coming out as a less than tolerable hiss.
“I said I refuse,” Hanzo snarls, almost surprised to hear the white hot anger in his own voice, “I refuse to take anything from you, and I refuse to let you take him!”

Against his common sense, Cole looks up at Hanzo again. The unmovable determination on his face, his unwillingness to yield… it further banishes the crippling terror that Aka Manto's presence struck upon him.
An awful sound forces him to look back at Aka Manto; cackling is coming from behind the mask.

Somehow, Cole is sure that this thing will be back in another stall, another school, another city, should they fail to stop it. So he holds onto Hanzo and gets back on his feet, determined not to go down without a proper fight. Aka Manto may have terrified him on first sight, he is not about to fall for the same trick.
Now that his mind and body are functioning again, he takes note of the fact that Hanzo broke a broom on this thing's back. That rules out Aka Manto being a ghost. So that leaves either the tallest of the uncanniest men around, or some entity that does not qualify as 'human'.
“Alright, you creepy piece of shit,” Cole groans, reaching under his jacket, “let's see what you're made of.”

His hand closes around the grip of his gun, but something takes place before he can pull it out.

Chuckling without respite, Aka Manto raises a hand and slowly peels its mask off.
Both Hanzo and Cole are unable to look away from its face, or absence thereof. While he was being strangled, Cole had not realized he was staring into literally inexistent orbits until now.

Around them, it is getting dark. The whole bathroom is disappearing; the stalls wither and rot away, the walls cover with rust and peel off like old paint, then everything simply vanishes.

Hanzo cannot tell if reality has begun to crumble as a whole, or if they are even on Earth anymore. He cannot look away from the void previously covered by Aka Manto's mask. If he had been able to, he would have seen the warped world around them; a dark and barren place where twisted towers defying gravity sit under a large blazing star in an impossibly black sky.
The air he breathes, if that even qualifies as air, tastes of iron.

Despite his sanity's feet being put to the fire, Hanzo has a flash of clarity. Wether this is all an illusion or real, there is no escape. Either they end Aka Manto right here and now, or they die trying.
The paper talismans in his pocket are useless, but there are other ways to deal with an otherworldly being.
Hanzo's second coherent thought is that he is not alone this time. It fills his chest with warmth, warmth that even the cold dry wind cannot rob from him.

He presses his hand over Cole's back. As his shocked partner glances at him over his shoulder with great difficulty, Hanzo mouths one word.
“Together.”

That word is all Cole needed. Despite the unknown and the nightmare they are currently going through, he manages to smirk at Hanzo and give him a nod.
Then he pulls his gun out and opens hostilities by firing at Aka Manto. One, two, three times.

Each detonation sounds weird to his ears. Everything is distorted, even the air itself does not feel right. Maybe sound gets corrupted too here, Cole thinks absently as he lines up bullseyes in Aka Manto's chest.

Four, five, six, lucky seven. Then the cylinder clicks empty.
And Aka Manto is still freaking standing.

With a muffled curse, Cole hurriedly digs in his pockets for his spare ammo. He knows the red coat freak is now marching toward him, probably itching to choke the life out of him for good. Why does it not use its butcher knife on him is beyond him. Maybe it is because he said 'blue' earlier, or the freak has a choking fixation. He does not care to find out.
Third time's a charm, so they say.

Aka Manto throws his free hand forward. But it is not Cole's throat that it closes on.
Hanzo threw himself between his partner and the tall killer. Cole shouts, but his voice gets lost in nothingness.

Hanzo cannot breathe. No matter how hard he is clawing at Aka Manto's long fingers, they will not let go. He is lifted like he weighs nothing and uneven nails sink into his skin.
Aka Manto brings Hanzo closer, until he is facing the gaping hole that is its face. Hanzo has no idea how, but all his worst fears are there, bare, in the confines of the empty head. They burn themselves into his retina, his brain. He cannot close his eyes or scream, he cannot even struggle.
“Stop,” he hisses breathlessly. But the pleas would be useless if they could be heard.
Even without a face to express anything, Aka Manto manifests glee at his pain.
Hanzo interfered by saving Cole, he tried to fool Aka Manto. And so he will pay the dire price. Neither the knife nor getting the life chocked out of him, that would be too kind…

A deformed roar rings in Hanzo's right ear, drowning out the hollow cackle coming from Aka Manto's empty head. Then the cackling stops.

Upon seeing Hanzo in danger, Cole too saw red.
His gun was still empty, but there was something by his boot on the ground. He picked it up, rushed to Aka Manto and plunged it in its chest.
This time, the broken broomstick is a weapon of choice.
Staked, Aka Manto drops Hanzo and actually steps back. Cole does not stop there. Furious, he pulls the stick out and stabs again, two times, right where the impact of his bullets marked a dark target.

Hanzo just has the time to grab Cole by the belt and haul him back. The butcher's knife misses his throat by a close shave; bits of beard hairs fly into the alien atmosphere.

Aka Manto comes swinging again, but Hanzo does not leave it a chance. With one arm around Cole's chest, he raises his left hand toward their foe and screams right by his ear. His words are too deformed to be comprehensible.

There is a blue flash, then Aka Manto stumbles back with an indescribable warbled sound. Its whole being is writhing with lightning, sparks are shooting out of the gaping hole it has for a face and the one Cole's assaults left in its chest.
Then Aka Manto tears apart violently. There is an implosion, then dark remains and red tatters scatter in the dark.

Hanzo collapses and accidentally pulls Cole along. Both hit the tiled floor with a blunt thud.
Tiles? Sounds?

Cole feels around, realizes his eyes are shut and opens them warily.
He is in the old restrooms. The ceiling, the walls, the stalls, the sinks, everything is here and perfectly normal. No rust, no towers, no star.

“Cole…”

The plaintive groan coming from underneath Cole almost makes his skeleton leap out of his skin. Then he realizes he is basically lying on top of Hanzo.
“Sorry, sorry,” Cole murmurs as he clumsily gets off of his partner. Is he apologizing for crushing Hanzo or for the whole 'blue paper' fiasco? Well, he said sorry twice.

He grabs Hanzo and pulls him up on his feet. The state of Hanzo's throat mirrors his own; the skin is bruising and red lines mark his jugular. A bit of red is oozing from one.
“You- are you okay,” Cole asks. He will unpack the rest of what happened later, the whole thing can wait. “Back there, where the fuck, back there, it got you bad. Sounded like, like it was stealing your soul or something.”

Hanzo did not expect to be bombarded with English, so he is slow on the response. It does not help that Cole's accent comes out thicker after all this stress, it is distractingly endearing.
“My soul is intact. I cannot say the same about my mental state, but it is nothing I haven't dealt with before. You?
- I might need one or two drinks before I answer that.
- Glasses or bottles?
- Whatever rocks your boat, but get your own. Ain't sharing.”

They stare at one another, then the reality of what took place slowly sinks in.
“We defeated Aka Manto,” Hanzo murmurs.
“Yep, we sure showed him, it, whatever,” Cole agrees. He removes his hat and wipes the sweat off his drenched face. “That wasn't no fucking urban legend we just saw or some shroom hallucination. That was real.
- No… and we may never know what it was precisely, or if it will ever return at all,” Hanzo sighs.
He reaches out and cups Cole's wrist. His skin is moist with cold sweat, but Hanzo hardly cares; his own shirt is soaked.
“What we do know is this. Horrors can be defeated.”

Cole stares at Hanzo, then he reaches up and pats Hanzo's hand. “Yeah… damn right,” he hums, offering a shaky smile.

At their feet lies the moist paper mask, still oozing.

–

Dawn arrives just as they make it back to the flat. Either the fight took way longer than they thought, or time moved differently while they were fighting elsewhere. Both are very likely, and they have no way of finding out.

They thought of grabbing the camera footage of the school security office just before leaving, but Hanzo has no intention of reviewing it. No camera caught anything valuable except their faces; the inside of the bathrooms was thankfully not monitored for intimacy reasons.
Between the ghost and the otherworldly whatever that attacked them, interferences would have ruined all recordings of the action.

Cole has visible strangulation marks and so does Hanzo, along with gashes left by Aka Manto's uneven nails. The bathroom mirror being too small to accommodate two men with large shoulders trying to fix themselves up, they sit down in the living-room and take turns tending to each other's wounds. Cole is used to it, having given first aid to his coworkers and received medical care too many times to count. Hanzo is not, so he watches Cole like a hawk during the first minutes. It is uncomfortable, but Cole remains a professional and only speaks to announce what he will do, or ask if what he is doing hurts.
It makes Hanzo wish he had handled Cole's bruises with the same curtesy. Unfortunately, he will have other occasions to make up for it.

“You saved me again today,” Cole murmurs while carefully running a q-tip over the last of the shallow cuts, “three times I think, might've miscounted. It was hard to keep track of things.”

Hanzo stops staring in the void and moves his gaze to Cole's brown eyes. They are so much warmer now than they were this morning, Hanzo would think the rising sun has something to do with it, had the curtains not been closed.
“There is no need to keep scores. You saved me too, from more than you think,” Hanzo replies, his voice a little rough on the edges.
“You ultimately brought it down with that… magic of yours, which was very cool by the way,” Cole points out, “I dunno what you did exactly, blinked at the wrong time, but it was damn cool. I envy how mediums and some gifted folks can pull that off in a blink. I need a lot more time and trinkets to do anything. Back there, I don't think my gunslinger skills really helped. Red coat freak just took it all in strides.”

Cole bites his bottom lip and moves onto applying some pomade over Hanzo's bruises. He is not sure why he is insisting on this. Briefly losing touch with reality and being targeted by an unearthly being may have revived stupid rookie insecurities.
Reyes would have slapped the back of his head and ruffled his hair.
“Shut the fuck up pendejo. You aren't dead, right? Still breathing? Then you've done good.”

“It sufficed thanks to you,” Hanzo says without a doubt, “nothing would have been enough if you had not weakened its shell. And it is not pity speaking, it is a fact. I do not sugarcoat things or coddle people, I mean what I say. Today, Shiokawa is a little safer and teenagers have been saved. We accomplished this together, you and I,” he adds earnestly.

Cole is troubled by this sincerity. Hanzo's eyes trouble him, but how could he look away?
“Are you saying that… it takes two to make things go right?”
Hanzo squints at Cole suspiciously. “Focus,” he snaps, “that soothing balm is not going to smear itself.”

Cole grins and obeys. “Ay partner,” he hums, “save a witch, break a broomstick.”
Whether he will get a wink's sleep this early morning or not, he is feeling good.