Chapter Text
“Oh,” Zenyatta said.
The smoke pouring from the summoning circle swirled around his bare feet and sent goosebumps crawling up his legs. It felt thicker and colder than any before, and as Zenyatta watched the heavy smoke part, the demon before him sent his stomach dropping into his feet.
Instead of the tiny friend he was expecting, an almost humanoid figure squatted in the very center of the chalk circle. The first thing that Zenyatta could see was a snow white kitsune mask. An eerie red line stretched across in a smile and two squinty eyes. The second thing he could make out through the fog was a black and white kimono folded right over left, the sliver of moonlight that peeked through the curtains shone off of the delicate and intricate silk pattern.
And lastly Zenyatta noticed the swords strapped across the demon’s back and hip.
“This isn’t what I meant to do at all.”
===PREVIOUSLY===
“You’ve been getting enough sleep lately, yes?”
Zenyatta smiled to himself and continued to pull the potions from his bag. “Of course, Miss Amari.”
The woman smacked him in the shoulder despite the smile tugging at her lips. “Oh please, don’t get sassy with me,” She then looked down at the amount of potions Zenyatta was unloading. “You have enough here to stock my shelves for a month, maybe longer. It should have taken two weeks to make these. Are you overworking yourself?”
“The flu season is coming up, I do not want you to be unprepared,” he deflected.
Ana’s smirk turned soft. “Perhaps, but it doesn’t mean that you should coop yourself in for a week. A person cannot live on tonics alone, not even a wizard like you.”
“I am aware.”
“Are you?”
Zenyatta chuckled “Yes.”
“Then quit working yourself silly,” The alchemist grabbed the bag from him when she became tired of his peaceful pace. She mumbled the numbers to herself and transferred everything over to a crate under the table, shuffling into the back room to grab the payment.
“How is your daughter?” Zenyatta called after her.
There was a sigh in the other room. “Fine, as always. She’s told me that they’ll be promoting her to guard captain before winter is over, but of course she could not visit and tell me in person.” There was the sound of coins being counted and then swept into a bag.
“Here, your payment,” Ana tossed the money at Zenyatta, who fumbled in surprise.
“This is far too much--”
“No, it is just enough, I’ll not hear another word,” The alchemist waved off Zenyatta’s protests and began pushing him out the door. “Go back home, get some rest, and for goodness sake stop making potions. Take a vacation for once, or else I’ll come to that reclusive tower of yours and force you to.”
Zenyatta laughed “Perhaps you could sick your daughter on me, I’ve heard that she’s being promoted to the guard captain.”
“Perhaps I will!” Ana winked and shut the door behind him.
For the entire walk home, Zenyatta had a smile plastered onto his face and knew that the extra work he had put in would be worth it. Ana Amari was a brilliant alchemist, and would treat his potions with care. It was always this time of year, when the snow began to pile up and the nights got colder; the time when people became sick more often. Hopefully Zenyatta had brewed enough for Ms Amari to hand out to any and all sick children and families who came to her doorstep.
However, when the wizard returned home, he was reminded just how long he had shut himself up in the basement. The path to the front door was beginning to pile up with snow and would be impassable by the next morning. Icicles were growing in size and numbers on his roof, which was not safe at all. Not to mention the state of his bedroom and living room.
Shameful.
Zenyatta quickly waded through the snow and closed the door behind him after knocking the ice off of his shoes. He hung his cloak on the door hook and placed his things on the table nearby before shuffling through the mess of notes and books on his floor towards the top of the tower.
He thanked himself for not having cleaned up the attic recently. It would have taken all day to redraw an entire summoning circle.
He pulled the curtains on the tiny window closed so that the winter winds would not blow out any of the candles, and thankfully the chalk lines on the floor only needed some refreshing after being neglected for a week. With everything done, Zenyatta stood and lifted his hands over the summoning circle, uttering his spell.
Instantly after the spell was finished, the circle erupted in smoke and fire and Zenyatta covered his mouth with one hand and waved away the fog with another. From inside the smoke and flames came a small chirp.
“There you are, little one,” Zenyatta smiled and held out his arms. “Come here.”
A bright green dragon bolted from the hazy mess and into the wizard’s arms, nuzzling and wiggling into his loose robes. It was long and thin, more akin to the dragons in the east, with horns that grew from its head like coral. Despite how cute and friendly it was, the creature was a demon. Zenyatta chuckled and tried to get a hold on the quick little thing so he could scratch his chin.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Would you help me again?” he asked gently.
The small demon purred and chirped as an answer.
“Thank you, my friend. I just need you to help me clear the ice from my roof and the snow from my walkway, then I shall give you your reward.”
One last twirl, then the dragon flew out the tiny window and got to work.
With Zenyatta and his small demon friend, the work around the tower got done in no time. The wizard could hear ice and snow being pushed away as he walked around his home and picked up stray papers and mess. When he could see the sun beginning to inch near the horizon, he checked out the window and saw his summoned dragon chasing after a snow rabbit. Zenyatta chuckled to himself. He would pretend not to have seen it.
Zenyatta was in his kitchen cleaning the last of his dirty dishes when the dragon flew in, its whiskers covered in powdery snow. “Are you finished now?” he asked.
It chirped and wrapped around Zenyatta’s neck like a scarf. “I suppose that’s a yes,” he smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pink candy. “Here is your reward.”
The dragon snapped up the sweet into its mouth and whistled happily, spinning around Zenyatta in a happy dance. After a moment of celebrating and showing off its pink prize to the witch, it poofed into smoke, contract fulfilled.
===LATER===
Zenyatta had never been very good at going to bed at a reasonable time.
One moment he was cleaning his chambers, the next he was sitting in a pile of notes after he had found a page from some book he had thought lost. It was only after his final candle had burnt down to a stub, the moonlight from outside illuminated the junkyard which was his room, that he noticed the time. Zenyatta sighed, followed by a yawn, and gently brushed the notes off of his lap.
“Come now,” he murmured to the burnt out candle. “Surely you have a minute left of life? Let me help.”
He plucked the holder from the cabinet and cupped it close to his face. With one breath, he teased magic flame into the weak wick.
“There we go! Thank you, little candle.”
With that, Zenyatta travelled upstairs to restock before his emergency light went out. The closer he came to the main floor, the clearer he could hear the wind battering at his poor tower. The shingles on the roof clinked and clattered-- but perhaps not just because of the wind. Tiny footsteps were just loud enough to be heard over the storm.
Zenyatta carefully peeked out the front door. “Hello?” he called. “Is anyone there?”
The clicks of paws could be heard above, and Zenyatta squinted through the cold wind to see what could be making the sound-- when suddenly a gust battered at him. He sucked in a breath of surprise as his large-brimmed hat was swept away into the darkness and his was candle snuffed out.
Whatever was on the roof landed the snow with a thump and ran off into the darkness.
Zenyatta went back inside with a sigh and locked the door behind him. He had only been outside the doorway for a moment, but already he was shivering, not to mention how his only source of light was gone.
He shuffled towards the staircase and held onto the wall as he made his way to the top of the tower. The summoning room was just as dark as the rest of the house and Zenyatta could only hope that he didn’t scuff any of the chalk lines. He, like every young witch and wizard in training, had had the importance of 'redrawing a circle after every use' burned into his brain. Perhaps it was the cold, perhaps it was the dark, or perhaps it was the dangerous negligent nature of repetition; but whatever it was, Zenyatta did not redraw the magic circle.
He barely remembered casting his spell, but was immediately hit with the concern that he may have said it poorly, as the demon now in his house was not the cute green dragon that he remembered.
=== PRESENT ===
The demon stalked towards the edge of the chalk circle and leaned into Zenyatta’s personal space, its breath warm compared to the cold that the tower retained from the outside. The voice that spoke next was inside of Zenyatta’s head.
[What is your wish?]
Zenyatta took a deep breath and calmed himself. It would do himself no good to panic. “I need you to retrieve something for me.”
[Name what you want. Treasure? A person?]
“No, no. I would like you to find my hat, please.”
The room's temperature dropped to zero.
And then the demon opened its mouth.
“Eh?”
“Oh, and perhaps a candle or two as well. I have some in my storeroom, but it’s too dark to see.”
“W- wait, what?” the demon stepped back. “A hat? You want me to find a hat?”
“Yes!” Zenyatta said. “It blew away in the wind outside, and I’d rather not adventure at this time of night to find it.”
“I could get you a new hat!" The demon threw its hand up. "Or make you one! One that gives you even better casting powers! How about that?”
Zenyatta shook his head. “No, thank you. I’d rather just have my hat back.”
“How about a hat that turns you invisible? Or protects you from any physical harm?”
“My hat is fine.”
“That’s just stupid! Why would you summon me to get you your dumb hat?" The demon groaned in exasperation. "I’m one of the most powerful demons in the entire underworld, and you want me to fuck around in the snow for some ratty witch hat?”
“Also candles,” Zenyatta corrected. “But in reality, I did not mean to summon you in particular.”
With impeccable timing, a chirp came from behind the strange demon, and a familiar green dragon flew into Zenyatta’s arms. “Ah, there you are! Have you brought over a friend with you?”
The larger demon sagged, giving up on making sense of what he was thrown into. “You… you summoned Udon?”
“Is that its name?” Zenyatta said at the same time that the demon pointed at the dragon and exclaimed “Is this where you go all the time?!”
Immediately the demon realized what it had said. It coughed awkwardly.
“So you are Udon’s friend?” Zenyatta smiled kindly.
“No,” the demon paused. “Yes. I mean, kind of. It’s mine. Udon belongs to me.”
Zenyatta looked at the wiggly dragon in his arms. “Thank you for introducing me to your friend, little one.”
To which Udon responded by chirping and sticking its tongue out.
“Wait a second,” the demon shook its head and growled. “Stop changing the subject! I was summoned in order to make a deal. So, make your demands, and I shall grant them for a price”
“I already told you what I wished for.”
“No! Your requests are stupid! Ask for something for real! Like, make me assassinate someone!”
“I’d rather have my hat.”
The demon stomped its foot and roared, green fire spewing from underneath its white mask. Maybe Zenyatta should not have spoken so casually to--
With a wave of its hand, several colourful wide-brimmed hats and candles poofed into existence and fell into Zenyatta’s arms, making Udon chirp with annoyance as it landed on them.
“Here is your stupid hat and a bunch of other stupid hats, and a bunch of crappy candles. Now,” the demon stepped out of the chalk circle and into the witch’s personal space. Zenyatta’s nose was almost touching the delicate mask that it wore.
[I’ll have my payment~]
Udon wriggled through Zenyatta’s grip and dug into his pocket, producing a small blue candy.
“Here you are,” said Zenyatta.
The silence that followed could have been cut with a dull butter knife. That is, until the demon closed the gap with a slump, plopping his head onto Zenyatta’s shoulder. He could feel the demon shaking, and what he thought was anger was revealed to be laughter when he snorted.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” it said, voice sounding much younger without the intimidating filter.
“To be fair,” Zenyatta smiled. “I have not met anyone like you either.”
Two hands firmly grasped Zenyatta’s shoulders and the demon pulled back to speak to him, mask-to-face.
“What’s your name, wizard?”
“I was under the impression that it was impolite to ask for someone's name without providing your own.”
The demon laughed and pulled his mask back until it sat on top of his head. Underneath was a young man with hair as black as night and eyes that sparkled with green fire licking at its feet. It was astounding how the sight of that bright smile took Zenyatta’s breath away; more than getting his hat ripped off his head, more than summoning a powerful demon, and more than any of the ridiculous things that had happened that night.
“Call me Genji."