Of all of the things Genji had expected, watching Hanzo crumple to the floor had not been one of them. His eyes narrowed slightly as he stared down at him, hand still on his sword and suddenly harboring a lot of energy that he didn't have a use for - he had expected a fight. He had wanted a fight, even, a chance to get his revenge and a chance to prove to himself that Hanzo had never cared, that he had enjoyed Genji's death.
Revenge suddenly seemed sour. At least, the concept of it - whatever he'd dreamed it would be like to find Hanzo again was a very different thing to the reality and the years of building up resentment against his brother all got pushed to the wayside when he saw the way he stared like a man who had been to war and returned to a burned village. It wasn't the anger or cockiness he'd expected from him.
"What, you aren't going to finish the job?" Genji scoffed. In the blink of an eye he had surged forward, the tip of his blade pressed up under Hanzo's chin, but he couldn't force his limbs to push it forward. He had everything he wanted and suddenly he didn't want it. Weak. Pathetic. Hanzo hadn't thought twice before striking him down and yet he didn't have the guts to take it when it was offered to him on a silver platter? He knew his robotic limbs had no qualms against taking human lives. He had done it plenty of times before, so what was the difference?
"Where is your blade?" He had to fight back. It was Hanzo.