The snow fell softly on the streets of Hanamura. They were empty, the citizens at home with their families on Christmas eve. Only one person trudged through the snowfall.
Hanzo adjusted his scarf one handed, trying to cover up his mouth more and juggle the box he carried at the same time. Reflexes honed with years of training saved the box from winding up in a snowdrift, and he pressed on, breath hissing through his scarf and billowing up into clouds of fog.