There are no tears on Hanzo's face. But he'd learned long ago to hold such things in check. Genji had always been the more emotional of the two, more prone to laughter or tears. It doesn't mean his chest isn't trying to turn itself inside out at the twist of emotions rising to the surface.

Comfort is not something he is well-versed in. Putting into words what seeing Genji alive means to him, or what he feels about what has become of him, that's not something he's prepared for. What he latches onto, what is easiest to take hold of, is anger. Slowly, his eyes narrow.

"Who did this? Name them. If they yet live, I will ensure their days drawing breath are numbered." And there is such venom in those words, such intense fury.