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Zenyatta ran his fingers over the seal of a letter, wondering if he should burn it.
He wasn't sure how it had found him. But it had been there, laying on the purely decorative table, waiting for him. The violet wax stared at him enthrallingly, beckoning him to break it and read the words. It was the first one in months, seeing as Zenyatta never bothered to write back. No, writing back would be too painful. Instead, the letters lay stacked in a small box unopened to resist temptation. He knew that had to be the goal of sending them, as well- The Omnic he once knew as his closest companion turned into a vitriolic monster to beckon Zenyatta to share in his hatefulness. A repulsive appeal to the warmth he knew Zenyatta would never lose for him.
He was tired of playing these mind games.
Zenyatta looked over his shoulder, knowing he would find no one there. Genji had gone out into town to grab food for the rest of the month. Shame made him wary, however, as he knelt and pulled a loose board from the floor. he felt around in the crevice, whisking away cobwebs before pulling the box into his lap.
He opened it, feeling his hardware shake as he added the Fifth letter to the stack. He sighed, closing the box and looking up at the ceiling.
Ramattra had been right, no matter how he tried to resist it. The two of them were connected, closer than brothers, the yin and yang much to Zenyatta's devastation. Unable to exist without the other, light is unable to prevail without the dark. Love and hate are so strong they ravage one another until the balance is reached. He felt the itch of hypocrisy.
"Holding onto the pain of the past will destroy you, Genji. You can never be healed without learning to let go."
And look at where his wisdom got him.
He went to put the box in its purgatory, but the hesitation broke his resolve. He thoughtlessly replaced the board, opening the box and pulling out the stack of letters. He lined them up, in order of when they had been sent. He felt a pulse of anxiety as he grabbed the oldest, freezing for a moment before tearing it open.
My Dearest Friend,
I know you wish nothing to do with me and my burden
Zenyatta felt himself scoff at the word 'Burden'.
But nothing in these last few of months has been as hard as being separated from you, Zenyatta. I have given up begging you to join me. I see now it's a path I undertake alone, and the price I must pay is my other half. I wonder if you ache as much as I do, though I hope your life finds nothing but joy even if I may not be a part of it.
When I left, it was the only time I had experienced your anger. I deserved it. I know this letter has most likely gathered dust in a corner, and been torn asunder by a fire. But on the off chance you are reading this... I want to say I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart.
If I write anything more, it may make the apology sound hollow. Just know I mean it.
Yours,
Ramattra.
Zenyatta instinctively crumpled the paper as his hand crunched into a fist, shaking his head. He then uncrumpled it, placing it neatly beside him. He opened the next one.
Starlight,
Sometimes, as I go through these motions, I wonder what advice you would give me. It is ridiculous of me. I was your teacher, no? Yet it always seemed you were the wiser one. I can sometimes imagine the advice you would give me. 'Let go of this hate', or 'come home'. Isn't that what you said when I left?
But I'm not sure where my home is if not with you.
"Oh, brother..." he shook his head as he put the shorter note down and opened the next
My Dearest,
I do not know why I continue to send these letters. I think I am simply writing into space at this point, filling the eternal silence between us. So much is to be said.
Mondatta is dead. I know the three of us had our differences, but I truly mourn his loss. I know you must as well. I cannot help but feel I should be by your side at this moment of suffering. I have visited King's Row and found it to be a Gomorrah of omnic hate. Especially with the death of the leader of the Shambali, anti-omnic violence is at a high.
I remember discussing the way we would fix the world if we had the opportunity. You would always sound so naive to me. And yet, I find that perhaps I was the naive one.
I will win this war for our species' survival. I hope you can forgive me.
frustration found itself giving way to compassion inside Zenyatta. He picked up the fourth.
Brother,
I wonder what would happen if I simply laid down my weapons and came home to you. Would you even accept me into your arms as you used to?
You were always the mature one, so certain of yourself. When you had nearly died in front of me, I had been the one destroyed by it. What kind of pathetic man does that make me?
I tire of these games, Zenyatta. I will not stop. I am afraid that I am wired to hate. My machinery, my programming, it's all built to destroy and ruin. The thrill of battle, the rush of victory-without it, I feel empty. Even free, Anubis's meddling has destroyed me. It feels irreversible.
I do not know what you do with these letters. I do not know how many I will send without a reply. I miss you. That's all I can say.
Zenyatta rested his face in his hands, feeling the tsunami of sorrow wash over him. Everything, every word Ramattra said made him feel as if he was being torn in two. The revolting saccharine nature made him wish he could slap Ramattra. How could he be so cruel? How could he be sorry when he wished to torture Zenyatta with his honeyed words? What kind of love was this, that Zenyatta must feel this pain? And yet, even lacking lungs, Ramattra couldn't help but take the breath right out of him still.
He couldn't make himself read the fifth. He sat there, face hidden behind his hands. He didn't know when Genji had entered, standing in the doorway and shifting awkwardly in uncertainty. "Sensei? Are you alright?"
Zenyatta was shocked back into reality, quickly scrambling to his feet. He tried to think up an excuse befitting the scene. but... what point was there in concealing the truth?
"In all honesty, I am...struggling at the moment." He looked over at Genji. He wore civilian clothes, carrying in one hand two paper bags, and in the other he held a bouquet of pink roses and daisies. He quirked his head, temporarily forgetting the letters strewn out on the ground. "Those are pleasant. Are they for decoration? They certainly don't grow here."
Genji's face flushed as pink as the flowers he carried. "Well, actually," He cleared his throat, placing the groceries on the ground and taking off his shoes before walking inside. He stood in front of Zenyatta. Standing on his feet was the only time he noticed the slight height advantage he had over Genji. He bowed his head, presenting the flowers. "They're for you. A merchant was selling them because it's almost Valentine's Day...And I thought you might, well...appreciate the symbolism"
Zenyatta's chest thawed from the pain already shoved to the background of his head. "Oh, Genji. That is quite thoughtful. " He took the flowers, feeling himself buzzing with joy. "Pink roses and Daisies. First loves and admiration, and then purity as well as forgiveness. That is quite the statement." He chuckled. Genji offered a gentle smile.
"What's all this?" He knelt, curiously reaching for one of the letters. Zenyatta raised a hand in a panic.
"Please, do not read them. " he pleaded softly. Genji opened his mouth to question but instead frowned. He caressed Zenyatta's faceplate.
"Will you tell me what's wrong? " He offered, inching closer. Zenyatta looked down at the ground, the violet seal still staring into him.
It was so hard to find an explanation. How should he tell Genji he was mourning the loss of an old lover? and of a friend? Would he look down on the weakness that would be then obvious in him? Lose his status as a mentor?
He shut down his optics for a moment, turning his attention inward. Rid yourself of the weight of the pain, trust in yourself. Clear your mind...
He felt the warmth of the Iris still presents inside him. He held onto the light, letting it fill him with compassion for himself. He felt the pain shed itself like a second skin, before returning his attention to a concerned Genji.
"There was a man I once knew. He was once everything to me, a teacher and a friend, and more. But he changed from the person I fell in love with until he was unrecognizable." He admitted. Genji stayed silent. His eyes darted over Zenyatta, glancing curiously at the letters once more. "He left to follow a path I could not."
Genji considered. "And these letters..."
"He still writes. I never opened the letters...until now." He leaned down, gathering the letters and folding them neatly. He pressed the stack into the box, aside from the unopened one. He discretely pressed that into his robe pockets. "I decided I was ready to process the emotions, but I was not expecting the intensity."
"How can I support you?" Genji asked gently, hand on Zen's shoulder. Zen placed his over Genji's, staring outside the window at the stars and allowing himself to wonder if Ramattra looked at the same ones.
But he guessed it did not matter.
"I appreciate you, Genji." He simply stated, clutching the bouquet as Genji hugged him from behind. "I am okay."
Genji nuzzled his face against Zenyatta's neck. He hummed in response, nuzzling back. "I trust you. I'm going to put everything away, now. Do you want me to set a vase up for your flowers?"
"Please do. I wish to enjoy them as long as possible." He chirped happily. The gesture soothed the discord inside of himself. Genji had a way of doing that-bringing harmony to his internal disunity. Menthol smeared on an aching body, a personal oxycodone that Zen found he would sorely miss if he had never appeared. Sometimes Zenyatta wondered who saved who.
Genji picked up his bags, happily humming as he went to unpack his groceries. Zenyatta reached into his pocket, pulling out the last letter.
Panic stilled his hand before he could rip it open. Was it worth it? Did he need the words on the page? Maybe he should leave this last one, destroy it, and allow himself the closure he still found himself seeking. And yet...
Maybe the closure he needed was here.
He opened it despite his better judgment, gripping the letter so hard the edges crinkled.
Zenyatta,
I believe this may be the last letter I send. I admittedly have thrown more away than sent, out of fear of futility. So let me air out the remainder of what I wish to say.
I remember so clearly, years ago, when I had asked you to share your life with mine under the light of the full moon. You were always so fond of stargazing together. Dreaming of a utopian future we will never get to realize, so fierce with passion and desire to make the world a better place. You even butt heads with Mondatta on occasion-a feat I fear made me fall for you even more.
You were always my inspiration. You inspired me to be more than I was, and it devastated me that you didn't follow me. I was angry for so long. That you betrayed me, that you forsake your kind. I still feel that way, to an extent.
And yet despite everything, I want you here with me. We are both too stubborn-I see that more clearly now than when I left. And I am filled with too much pain to forget humanity's transgressions in hopes of a life with you. I am the same man I've always been.
I wish I was different. But I am not.
But we'll always have the stars.
I love you, Zenyatta. I fear I won't have another opportunity to say so.
Yours despite it all,
Ramattra