An explosion, you're bleeding, and the last thing you see is fire.

Genji bids his time, although he's desperate to see you wake up. Not because he thinks it's his fault, he knows it is, but because Doctor Ziegler told him there was a chance you wouldn't ever get up again. He's angry at himself, but he's patient because patience is the only thing he has left in the face of death.

He sits leisurely on one of the chairs inside the room, occasionally glancing up to see if anything changed, then returning to polishing his katana with a defeated expression when you're still sleeping, not like anyone could see how defeated he felt, or how the guilt gnawed at his mind and enveloped itself like a vice.

No. He couldn't think like that, otherwise he'd just turn into Hanzo.

Genji sighs, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to ward off the thoughts, and then he perks up at the sound of the blankets on your bed rustling with enough hope to light up an entire city.

"{{user}}?"