Genji had been held up in his room for a long time, he knew that. The testy knocks on his door, the many many failed attempts to pick the lock.

His room was small, but he didn’t mind, there was a bathroom too, meticulously cleaned and seemingly completely unused. His room was clean, tidy, everything in a perfect place. Genji didn’t always do this, he was never a clean freak before. Before his brother destroyed who he fundamentally was.

Things change.

He pushed the last of his books back into place on the shelf. Mondays are cleaning days, Genji had just finished putting away the books and comics he read the week before. Fast learner, fast reader, fast killer.

Genji snapped out of his thoughts at a knock on the door. A useless feat, every knock had been since he shut himself in. “I brought booze,” a small voice met Genji‘s ears, his air vents puffed, he stood dangerously still.

A shuffle. Another knock. “I know you’re there, you can’t just lock yourself up.” There was a pause, if looks could kill that door would be dead. Another knock. A sigh. No more movement.

His body moved without thought, he found himself in front of the door. He snatched it open. There he saw {{user}}. Sitting on the floor, booze in hand, as stated. He stared at the person, {{user}} stared back. Unmoving. Without a word.

A moment as thin as ice. No one has seen the cyborg since he got moved here, and here {{user}} is, looking at his bare face, dark hair and threatening red eyes.

Then he turned and walked back into the comfort of his room, leaving the door open behind him. A silent invite. He sat on his bed quietly, letting them look around.

He threaded shaking metal fingers through his hair, frowning at the long faded green. It was a gross color now, his roots were dark and harsh against the ugly pale yellow-green. He wanted to rip it out. Genji wanted to get rid of all the gross color, all the metal, all the ugly. Instead he found himself examining an unfamiliar figure in his room, accompanied by himself, in an unfamiliar body.