#takevik

The temperature has risen just enough for the ice encasing the steps to melt, making the simple ordeal of walking down that much riskier, but eventually, they managed without slipping. Viktor had already closed the clinic for the night and just as Takemura had before, they’ve decided to just walk the distance between Misty’s shop and Akiko’s basement. Despite the foul weather, Takemura found the experience rather enjoyable, the way Viktor shared his anecdotes and took in Takemura’s comments. He had to admit, he never knew small talk could be this easy. Takemura would by no means call himself awkward, taking great pride in being able to navigate a wide array of social settings, but the point of such conversations often escaped him; instead, he preferred to get straight to the point, without wasting time on chatter devoid of any clear purpose. With Viktor, it was different, he’d go as far as to say that the meaningless exchange felt almost natural - nothing needed to be reviewed, decided, or discussed, leaving them with an opportunity to just enjoy each other’s presence.

Takemura pushed the heavy door open, leading the way as they both walked into the familiar, dark corridor. Leaving muddy footsteps on the concrete floor, they walked further into the building, and eventually, they reached the bigger room. Takemura noticed that Akiko was no longer busy tinkering with her hardware, but sitting in front of one of the many monitors, face furrowed in concentration as she typed away at the keyboard. She lifted her eyes and waved at Takemura, beckoning him to come in before she got up, typing in some last commands before she finally allowed her hands to get away from the keyboard and started walking up towards Takemura to properly greet her client. Suddenly, without an apparent reason, Akiko stopped halfway, her smile dropping almost immediately.

Perplexed, Takemura turned his head just in time to see Viktor freeze. The ripperdoc was staring at the woman as if he saw a ghost, throat jumping as he swallowed heavily.

“Viktor.” she spat out his name through gritted teeth like it was some kind of a curse, her brows furrowed in a clear expression of disgust.

“Akiko,” he echoed, still standing at the door, seemingly not daring to step inside the basement. Takemura couldn’t quite make out his eyes from behind the tinted shades, but the man’s voice told him he wasn’t trying to match the amount of venom Akiko managed to put in a single word. Quite the opposite, Viktor’s tone was almost apprehensive, gone was his usual steady confidence he carried himself with on their way here, The silence that fell on the netrunner’s workshop was almost palatable, so Takemura opened his mouth to say something, anything to break it, but Akiko was faster.

“You got some nerve, showin’ up here.”

“Listen, I-” before Viktor could finish, the woman turned her piercing gaze to Takemura.

“I tell you to bring in someone you trust and that’s who you go for?” Akiko scoffed. “Bold choice.”

Takemura had to admit, he was surprised by her reaction to the other man’s presence but didn’t let it reach his face. A sudden irritation swelled up in his chest upon hearing her words and he didn’t even think before words started escaping his mouth:

“Nevertheless, I stand by it.” Takemura replied, his tone colder than intended. “He saved my life, more than once. If that isn’t enough, you still owe me. I do not think there is much room for discussion here.”

“Goro, I don’t think this is necessary.” Viktor’s voice came from behind him.

“I happen to think it is.” the other man replied, eying the netrunner, his silver optics glistering. Akiko was still standing with her arms crossed over her chest, a stern expression on her face. She refused to break eye contact, not allowing herself to be beaten in this small, meaningless game of wills, but eventually, let out a sigh.

“Fine.” she finally said. “ but afterward, you’ll never bring him here again. Wear this,” she tossed a netrunning suit at him. “and get in the damn chair.”

                                                              ***

“So what, you fry his brain? With no active cyberware, his output capacity for netrunning is-”

“Perfectly fine for a short dive like that.” she snarled, firing up one of the monitors.

“So you’ve done this before?” mockery rang in Viktor’s voice, a tone so unfitting to him it made Takemura cringe.

“There is always a risk of-” this time, Akiko was on the defensive, angrily smashing her fingers on the interface, not even looking away from the screen as she spoke.

“Then how about, for once, you actually-” Viktor started, but Takemura swiftly cut him off mid-sentence.

“Enough! Do not talk about me like I am not here. I do not know what it is between you two, but I would appreciate it if you could put it aside, just for a second.”

They both looked at him surprised, but dropped the banter, limiting themselves to exchanging glares and singular words as each set up their respective equipment. After a few more minutes, Akiko hopped onto the other chair, adjusting a few parameters on the screen above it before finally pushing it aside and plugging her personal link into the port.

“Let’s get this over with.” with that, her eyes rolled back into her skull, whites glistering. Takemura could see a soft glow that her eyelids didn’t manage to block and looked over to Viktor, netrunning cord in hand.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” the ripper said, pushing up the glasses with his free hand.

“You were not this hesitant when I first asked.” Takemura pointed out.

“I know, but-” Viktor started, but just shook his hand. “anyway, you’ve made your decision, I don’t really have a say beyond giving you advice.”

“Is it medical advice or a friendly one?”

“Between you and me, a bit of both,” Viktor said, but seeing the other man’s expression, he just handed him the cord. Takemura plugged it in without a word and allowed himself to lay back, resting his head on the leather headboard.

For a brief second, his vision glitched. Takemura turned his head to look at Viktor once more, but before he could say anything else, the image started to blur and then bleed over, warping the room into an unrecognizable array of colors and shapes before that, too, was replaced by pitch darkness. Takemura felt as if the soft leather of the chair he was lying on had melted away, replaced by pure nothingness as he felt himself fall, gaining momentum with each passing millisecond. He tried moving his hands, just to see if he could, if not to stop the fall, but before he managed to force his limbs to move, it came to an abrupt stop. When he looked down, the floor he was standing on lighted up with soft, blue light with each step he took. Takemura turned his head to look around, the illuminated structures rising right in front of his eyes. He could see them shifting, thousands of lines of code wriggling like a can of worms, a perfect military unit, moving into position.

When it finally settled, he wasn’t sure he was seeing it right.

The stairs he had been standing on were bare, no handle or barrier to stop an eventual fall. Looking behind his shoulder in search of Akiko, Takemura started walking up, passing the rigid structures of scaffolding around the construction site until finally, he reached a rooftop. Before he had a chance to take in his surroundings, his eyes landed on a figure standing on the edge, the red strings of code of her silhouette contrasting sharply with the blues and blacks surrounding them. The woman had her arms crossed over her chest and she was casually leaning on the railing. Had they been in a different place, Takemura would say she was admiring the sunset, but since there was nothing of this sort to speak of in this bottomless pit of data, only darkness beneath them, it was only a brief thought. He walked in closer, his footsteps echoing on nothing. With every step he took, he felt his stomach sink further as the women’s silhouette materialized in more and more detail. Her short, frizzy hair stood out in every possible direction, strands moving slightly with the nonexistent wind.

“V?” his voice came out coarse, but the syllable carried through the empty space between them. The woman stirred but did not turn, eyes fixed on something far in the horizon, something only she could see. He took a few more steps forward, closing the distance between them, and stood next to her, putting his arms on the railing. The area beneath them was no longer empty, the second he laid his eyes on the digital landscape, data started pouring together to form shapes, an intricate composition of buildings. It was only a draft of the real thing, devoid of any real detail, but it was more than enough. They were looking at a shadow of Arasaka Industrial Park.

Takemura turned his head to V, or rather to whatever digital footprint of her remained. She was still not acknowledging his presence, but as she stared far into the complex beneath them or at the sunset which beauty he could not see, she was smiling.

“Takemura.” it came from somewhere behind him. He turned, startled, and saw Akiko approaching him from the other side of the platform. When he looked back to where V was standing, he saw she was no longer there. A fleeting memory.

“Why are we here?” he asked, voice echoing against the nonexistent walls.

“It highly depends on what is that ‘here’ you’re speaking of.” Akiko raised her eyebrows, though something in her expression told him she knew perfectly well what he had in mind.

“So it looks different to you?”

“Yeah. What you’re seeing is just your brain’s attempt to visualize the plethora of data going through it. It fishes for a familiar place to ease the neural strain. Now come on, let’s go get what we came here for, no need to linger.”

                                                               ***

His vision still hadn't cleared by the time he and Viktor gathered up to leave, a slightly blurry notification popping up on his interface informing him of an incoming transaction. He accepted with a flicker of the eye and watched as his account balance quadrupled with the money he and Akiko recovered. It should be just enough to get him back on his feet, at least until he figures out what to do next, but first things first, he had to pay Viktor back.

“And Takemura?” Akiko shouted behind him right as they were about to leave. “We’re even.”

They walked back to Viktor’s apartment in complete silence, snow creaking beneath their boots as they turned each corner, both lost deep in their own thoughts. By the time they reached the megablock, it was well past midnight, but it didn’t mean the social hubs of the building were any more empty. They passed through them quickly and eventually found themselves back in Viktor’s place, shedding off their coats and throwing them over the desk’s chair almost in unison.

It was Viktor who finally broke the silence.

“Let me rewrap that for you.” Viktor gestured toward the other man’s arm. “Afterwards, we can sit down and talk, maybe crack a beer or two open. Reckon it’ll do both of us some good” Takemura nodded and watched the ripperdoc walk away from the table towards the bathroom. Takemura could hear the rattling of medical supplies as Viktor gathered everything he needed from a small cabinet above the sink. Still intrigued by whatever went down between Viktor and Akiko back in her lair, Takemura took a seat at the counter, quickly unbuttoning the cuffs and rolling the shirt’s sleeve up to reveal the bandaged arm. He didn’t have much time to ponder before Viktor finally emerged and put the supplies on the counter in front of them before hopping onto the chair himself.

There were more cuts than he remembered, places where Viktor went in with a scalpel to replace some of his ruined cyberware. The cuts were still angry red, but in much better condition than they had the right to be after such a short time, neat stitching pulling the broken skin together. Takemura knew they’re going to scar, but at the very least he still had an arm. He watched silently as Viktor worked, cleaning the wounds with an antiseptic before putting fresh gauze over them.

There was something about Viktor that made Takemura want to lean into the touch. He was used to doctors, having been injured countless times in the course of his service to the Arasakas, but there was a jarring difference between the way the ripperdoc was looking over the cuts, none of the impersonal, clinical touch that Takemura was accustomed to. He took a deep breath in, dismissing the thought and pushing it as far down his consciousness as it’d go. It was not the time for such indulgences.

“I apologize,” Takemura finally said. “Perhaps I should not have acted this aggressively. I should not have intervened between you two to reach my own goal, since it was clearly a personal matter.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m glad you spoke up before we had a chance to jump to each others' throats,” the ripperdoc said, not lifting his gaze, still fixed on the other man’s arm. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“I have to admit I am curious,” Takemura said, this time choosing his words carefully. “but you do not owe me anything. If you prefer to keep this a private matter, it is fine. I would not hold that against you.”

“Don’t worry,” Viktor replied, pinning the fresh bandage in place. “I have to warn you, though. It’s a long one, so we might as well move to the couch. Let me grab some beer from the fridge.” and with that, he hopped off the chair. Takemura followed and settled on the sofa, Viktor soon joining him and handing him a bottle before sitting down.

“By the 60s, my boxing career was coming to an end. You see, cyberware in sports wasn't strictly regulated until not even a decade ago and more than a few lads took advantage. New guys came in, with implants padding their brains, and with how expensive those things used to be back then, there was no way I could afford even the smallest piece of cyberware. Soon enough, I found myself patching the guys on ringside more often than throwing punches and that’s when someone from Trauma noticed me. You have to understand that for a guy from Heywood, this was an opportunity of a lifetime. Most of the guys there are ex-military, so I was an odd one, but I didn’t allow myself to lag behind. Most of the time I didn’t feel like socializing, but I brought enough practical skills to the table that the others respected me.

A few months into the program, they added another guy to our unit. His name was Takeshi and he moved to Night City shortly before that, from the Kyoto branch of Trauma. Still had a few months of basic training to do, so they placed him with us. Takeshi was off to a rough start, dropped into our group a few months in, everyone already a part of their own little clique. Some of them didn’t take too kindly to a newcomer and I can’t blame them, considering the way Trauma medics are trained to work like one organism. It takes trust to build this level of coordination, so Takeshi had a lot to prove” Viktor paused, taking a sip from the bottle. “and let me tell you, he delivered.”

“That is him in the photo, yes?” Takemura asked, gesturing toward the small collection of pictures to their right. Viktor nodded.

“I never quite dropped boxing, it was an excellent way to stay in shape for a job like that, so I’d always stay behind in the gym to practice after the place emptied in the evenings. One night, Takeshi stayed behind too, watching me for a good while. I didn’t make anything of it, figuring he’ll eventually get bored and leave, but instead he asked me for a sparring.” Viktor chuckled at the memory. “my first thought was that he was joking. The guy was way smaller than me and the insinuation that he’d be able to take me on was laughable and that’s what I did. Presumptuous, I know.” he added, noticing Takemura’s expression. “but I didn’t know any better back then. I thought we’d be done in seconds.”

“And were you?” Takemura asked, taking a sip from his own bottle. The beer had a rich, somewhat spicy taste that lingered after. He could feel his lips smirking against the cold glass, already knowing where Viktor’s story was going.

“Oh, we were. With me sprawled on the ground.” the ripperdoc let out a short laugh. “As you see, I made the mistake of underappreciating him. After that, we’d often stay behind together practicing. Soon enough, we started to meet outside of it too, often spending weekends going from bar to bar. As it turned out, he wasn’t the quiet guy I took him for, turning out to be quite chatty. He’d tell me all about his life back in Kyoto, not to mention he was quite opinionated about Night City, especially the local food, just as you are.” Takemura opened his mouth to ask how Viktor could possibly know that, but then it hit him. V must’ve told him all about the time they spent together.

“Doing a gig for Trauma was the fastest way for him to get a medical license and stay in the US for good, but he was probably the least trigger happy person I’ve ever known. Would make a great hospital doctor, with his bedside manner, but bureaucracy made it impossible for him to just hop positions like that. Months went by and we graduated, by dumb luck ending up in the same unit. Two years down the line and he comes to me, the stupidest grin on his face, telling me he met a girl.”

“Akiko?”

“Yeah. She was starting at Arasaka back then, climbing her way up the information security department. She never really liked me, but they hit it right off, another two years pass and he invites me to their wedding, even asked me to be his best man. Best party I’ve ever been to. It all seemed to be working out for us, he was happily married and we both landed great jobs. That is, before corporate started rubbing their hands all over it.”

“Isn’t Trauma a private corporation in and on itself?

“It is, but bear with me. When you’re a regular armed medic, you don’t really feel all the pressure coming from above, but the higher up you go, the more entangled you get. I’m sure you know what I mean.

“You might say so.”

“Then I’m sure you know, most likely better than anyone else, that it’s just a matter of time before those things start to get complicated. But that’s a whole different story, a less happy one, but it explains why Akiko reacted the way she did when she saw me this evening.” Viktor said, leaning back on the sofa and taking another swing from the bottle. “but I guess neither of us has anywhere else to be right now.”

“I believe so,” Takemura replied, placing his beer on the small coffee table in front of them.

    “You did not wake me, I was just about to…” Takemura replied, motioning to get up, but what stopped him was a warning meow from the cat, still lying on his lap. It raised its head, clearly not amused by the disturbance. Viktor raised his eyebrows, a faint smile appearing on his lips as he grabbed himself a chair and sat down, leaving the jacket on the counter.

    “He likes you.”

    “Does he have a name?” Takemura asked as the cat stood up, clearly deciding it had had enough of its guest’s affections, and jumped to the floor in a swift motion, not even glancing at the two men.

    “Nibbles.” Viktor chuckled. “Before you ask, it was not my idea, but V’s. Judy...isn’t in the best place right now, said the cat reminds her of V too much, plus she’s leaving Night City for good anyway. Asked me to take care of it, so I took the little guy in.” he said, looking over at Nibbles, who jumped onto the counter, eyeing the bowls on the far corner of it and finally turning its gaze back to Viktor, disappointment clearly visible in its huge eyes. The ripperdoc shook his head slightly, a soft smile on his face as he engaged in a staring match with the cat, his eyes losing focus behind the tinted lenses as he got lost in thought. Takemura took the time to stretch, the aftereffects of a nap in such an uncomfortable position having stiffened his joints. He didn’t feel rested, more like he had been rather abruptly fished out of a tank filled with warm water. Then again, he didn’t think he knew what feeling rested felt like anymore.

    “A fine feline.” Takemura finally said, only to break the uncomfortable silence between them and to shake the doctor off whatever track of thought he found himself on. Viktor only hummed in acknowledgment, turning his gaze back to the other man.

    “Glad to see you settled in okay. It’s been slow at the clinic, so I thought I would drop by, just to grab something and see how you’re doin’ while I’m at it.”

    Takemura took a quick look at the little screen displaying the time, the digital numbers displayed on a small screen giving off a soft, blue glow. What he probably should have expected, what would have been just a moment of rest turned into a few hours and Takemura had already felt he had wasted enough time.

    “Thank you for the clothes,” he said, bowing his head slightly, as if his words weren’t enough to accent his appreciation. In reality, they really weren’t.

    Viktor waved his hand.

    “Don’t mention it. Figured you’d want to wear something that’d make you feel more...you.”

    Takemura let out a deep sigh. Viktor deserved more than half-truths and omissions. He owed him the truth, after everything the ripperdoc had done for him.

    “I was let go from the company.” Viktor raised his eyebrows at this sudden change of topic, but said nothing, allowing Takemura to carefully choose his words as he continued. “Completely and irrevocably. I refused to accept the consequences my actions have brought upon me and was punished for it.”

    “Letting you out alive was Saka’s idea of a parting gift?” Viktor asked, leaning back on the chair. Despite the calmness of his voice, Takemura could feel a hint of sarcasm, anger even, though it was not directed at him.

    “I would say it was the opposite. In their eyes, I did not take the chance to redeem my honor and have to live with that decision weighing down on me.”

    Viktor hummed and took off his glasses, wiping the lenses on the edge of his shirt. Even though Takemura never wore them, always having been equipped with cutting edge optics, a new set from time to time, long before it officially made its way into the wider market, he doubted cleaning the lenses like this was effective. It almost looked like Viktor was buying himself time to think about what he was about to say, though the silence didn’t last more than a few seconds.

    “And in your eyes?”

    The question took Takemura aback, summing up what he’d been thinking about in merely a few words. A rare thing it might be, an ability he never had, never needed back when his life was dictated by a clear set of rules and orders from people he accepted as his superiors, first in the military and then, later, by Saburo-dono’s side.

    “I...am not sure yet. I came all this way only to realize that what I fought my entire life to protect, to uphold might be little more than a vicious lie. It is hard to face, how replaceable I am. I had been selfish, enough to believe that after I cleared my name and helped Hanako-sama bring Yorinobu to justice, everything would be the same as before. How foolish of me! Before I knew it, the order of things I fought to help restore, one I have killed for, was distorted into something I could no longer recognize. And the scariest part,” Takemura hesitated for a moment, but it was too late to not finish his trail of thought, bare all his doubts to Viktor the way he would never dare to in front of someone else. “is that it might have always been like that. I was just too blind to notice.”

    “Must’ve felt like a rug was swept from under your feet. However painful it might seem, you are your own man now. You can forge your own path, and it’s only up to you if you see it as a blessing or a curse, but it does make a hell of a difference. Trust me,” Viktor said, a warm, knowing smile on his face. “I’ve been there.”

    Takemura felt curiosity rise in his chest, remembering the photo of Viktor from his Trauma days, but he didn’t want to push the other man, just as Viktor had not pushed him. As expected, the ripperdoc didn’t elaborate and Takemura didn’t ask him to. There was a time for everything and he felt it wasn’t it, not yet.

    “Thank you,” he said and stood up, walking to the chair to grab his coat and put it on. It wasn’t that late, he might still be able to catch Akiko at work, not that she ever left it. “I am going to meet with a netrunner, but will be back soon.”

    “A friend of yours?”

    “I would hesitate to call her a friend, but we did help each other. That account I mentioned, I set it up shortly before leaving the city. I never thought I would have to use it again, but as you say...better to be safe than sorry.”

    Viktor hummed in response. “Alright. Just watch your step out there, the snow is pretty nasty.”

    “I will. By the way,” Takemura turned around just as he was about to put his hand on a scanner to open the front door. “what did you do with that car? And the wakizashi?”

    “The sword? Still have it, but left it behind at the clinic. Do you need it back?”

    Takemura hesitated. Does he?

    “Not really.” he silently hoped he never will. “The car?”

    “Had to call in a favor to make it disappear. A real shame, it was quite a beauty. Your Arasaka buddies seem to have cleaned their own mess before NCPD caught a whiff.”

    “Of course. They always do.” and with that, he walked out.

***

    When he finally reached the less frequented part of Charter Hill, the little sunlight that managed to break through the dark, heavy clouds was long gone, giving way to street lights and neons tastefully implemented into the newly built, sleek looking buildings, even though right now they were obscured by the heavy snowfall that made Takemura regret he couldn't just drive there. Even the ever present neons and advertisements were more subtle, on par with the kind of life the people residing in the district were leading - moderately comfortable, a step up from Heywood, but still not high enough up the food chain to compare with those rich enough to reside in City Plaza. Takemura had eventually strayed off from the wide, open spaced pavements into a more dense area, navigating the increasingly narrow streets that exposed the true image of Charter Hill, the middleman district with nothing but a pretty exterior masking the rot that went too deep into Night City’s system to ever be truly hidden, revealing itself in various ways, from overworked corpos passed out the benches despite the grueling cold to the occasional bloodstain on the pavement, only partially obscured by fresh snow, one that the cleaners haven’t managed to scrub off yet. An organic proof of meaningless violence in a place that kept eating its own young and hopeful, entangling them in an endless web of favors and obligations, one that kept tightening and spreading all around the city. Even Takemura, on his first visit to Night City, out of money and resources, found himself entering the untold arrangement that kept the city ticking, indebting himself to people and indebting others for his sake just to keep himself afloat. Some of the favors he already cashed in, others he hoped he’ll never have to, but at least in this case he didn’t walk past the rusty gate to the netrunner’s basement with cautious distrust, as he did with so many others. Akiko was different, much more human despite the fact she interacted with the ghosts floating around the Net much more frequently than with regular humans. Despite that, she still had something that many have lost on lesser endeavors - a conscience and a heart to back it up.

    As he walked down the stairs, careful not to slip on the ice the water dripping from the roof has turned into, he pushed the heavy, metal door open, only a small name plaque an indicator of who might reside there. The doors closed behind him with a dull thud, one that almost made him jump as he walked further into the building, following the neon line on the floor, the only source of light in the otherwise completely dark corridor. Eventually, it widened into a large room, the netrunner the only person there. For a second, Takemura didn’t even see her until he turned his gaze to the server on the left side, one of many lining the walls. Before Takemura had a chance to announce his presence, the netrunner’s voice came, a bit muffled:

    “Yeah yeah, gimme a sec!” the woman muttered, her entire torso still hidden inside the jaws of the machine as she tinkered with its’ insides, balancing on one foot as she struggled to reach for the cable she needed.

    “No rush, Akiko,” he said, leaning on the doorframe, seemingly the only place in the entire room where he wouldn’t have to worry about tripping over or breaking something, the space was so densely covered with cables and spare parts spread all over the floor and running up, creeping up on the walls, some insulated with a dulled glow of tiny LEDs, basking the room in an unnatural, blue light. How the netrunner could work like this, Takemura had no idea.

    Upon hearing his voice, the woman jumped, hitting her head on the metal plate with an audible thud. Cursing under her breath, she finally emerged and turned to face him, rubbing the back of her head with a pained expression.

    “Takemura, you scared the shit out of me! Some warning would be nice,” she complained as she walked over around the partially disassembled netrunning chair to greet him, a smile on her face despite her seemingly cold tone. She looked different from the last time he’d seen her, her previously long, greying hair now cut short and dyed angry pink, reflecting the blue hues and creating strands of violet that danced around her face every time she moved her head.

    “I presume this means you have not expected me.”

    “After our last conversation? The only person I expected to see less was Saburo Arasaka himself. What brings you back to Nigh City? I thought you hated the place.” she said, stepping over a box of what looked like fried cyberdecks to grab a chair. “Here, take a seat, you look like you’re about to topple over.”

    Takemura sighed and reluctantly sat down, secretly grateful for the offer. The room was unpleasantly warm, servers towering one next to the other enough to bring the temperature up to a point where he had to shake off his coat.

    “I came to honor the memory of a friend and stayed to admire the scenery,” he said, his attempt at sarcasm met with Akiko’s expression softening. Takemura saw the way her eyes kept darting to his arm, bandage peeking out from the long sleeve of his shirt.

    “Shit, I’m so sorry. It was that merc that you worked with, right? I heard about what you guys pulled at the parade from a ‘runner friend of mine. With what came after, I thought you’d be back at Saburo’s side in Tokyo, so…”

    “Akiko-san, excuse me, but I did not come here to gossip.” he stopped her mid sentence, feeling a sudden need to cut this conversation short and get out of this warm, confined room into the biting cold of Charter Hill. The woman looked surprised at the retort.

    “O-of course. Whaddya need?”

    “That account I asked you to set up before I left. Is it still up?”

    This time, she scoffed.

    “‘Course it is. I have one of these beauties constantly pulling it in and out of the Net as we speak.” she pointed to one of the servers lining the wall. “Normally it would’ve cost you a ton of eddies to keep it buried as deep as it is, but I honor my debts. You helped me, now I’m helping you, no questions asked. Although…” she trailed off and crossed her arms. “I’d certainly appreciate it if you cared to share why the hell you need to cash that one in in the first place. Arasaka not paying as much as they did back in my day?”

    Takemura grunted. Of course, she, of all the people he got to know in this godforsaken city, wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily.

    “We had a disagreement of sorts, one that resulted in me being let go in a rather abrupt manner. I did not have much time to make preparations for such an event, hence I come to you. I need to get access to the deposit. Can you do that for me?”

    Akiko narrowed her eyes, clearly not expecting such honesty on Takemura’s part.

    “Well then,” she said, reaching for a port box propped up next to one of the many screens standing on the tabletop. “of course I can. Just jack in and I’m gonna walk you through it.”

    “I am afraid my personal link is out of commission for now. Is there any other way?”

    “Good luck getting around the city without one. You had a ripperdoc take a look?”

    “I did,” he replied, a bit annoyed at her pretentiousness. “Please Akiko, just focus. Is there any other way?”

    “I can put you through a neural port directly, but…”

    “What?”

    “You’d have to jump into the Net with me and to be frank, you don’t look like you’re at the top of your game. With no one keeping an eye on your biomon, I’m worried you could flatline on me.”

    “So I can either wait until my personal link can be fixed or come back here with a ripperdoc?

    “A tech savvy one at that. And someone you trust, considering what we’re doing here.”

    Takemura was silent for a few seconds, considering. Just a few months ago, he’d probably rush into it, not wanting to stall his progress any further, determined to keep things moving even if it would cost him later, but now, with the unexpected turn his life has taken, he wasn't so quick to act. If jumping into the Net was as risky as Akiko made it out to be, and he had every reason to trust her on that, pushing for it right now would be counterproductive. He thought about Viktor and how his work would go to waste if Takemura was to fry on the netrunner’s chair, so much effort on the ripperdoc’s part for nothing. Other than the need to pay Viktor off as soon as possible, even if only to make up for his kindness, since the doctor not only did not push Takemura to hurry but offered him a place to stay so casually, there was nothing rushing him. No time sensitive goal that required him to push himself far past his limits as he feared not only for his uncertain future, but for his very life. It felt odd, in a way.

    Finally, an elevator ride and two flights of stairs later, Takemura was standing in front of the ripperdoc’s apartment door, gingerly putting his hand on a scanner while trying to catch his breath, the short climb showcasing how far from his usual form he still was. After taking it’s sweet time to verify a new ID, the device beeped and the doors slid open, inviting him in. Relieved, he stepped into the dark corridor and reached out a hand in search of a light switch. It turned on with a soft click just as the doors closed behind him.

    The corridor opened into a combined kitchen and living area, with a long counter creating an impromptu barrier between the two. A small desk was tucked in the corner on the far side of the room, barely enough space to house a desktop and a few books stacked on top of each other, the pile dangerously swinging to the left, threatening to collapse at any moment. The rest of the available space was occupied entirely by a big, comfortable looking sofa and a tall shelf housing even more books and boxing trophies, maneki nekos in various colors and shapes perched up in between. As Takemura walked further into the room, he passed the door leading into a bathroom and what used to be another room for the bedroom, but with the wall dividing it and the rest of the apartment gone, different kinds of floor tiling were the only indicator that there used to be anything between them,

    Takemura shook off his coat with a heavy sight and looked around for a place to hang it, eventually deciding on just placing it over the back of a chair, faced with a lack of a more traditional hanger. He walked up to the desk and placed the coat over the metal frame of the chair, careful not to let the heavy material crease in ways it wasn’t meant to.

    That’s when he noticed the photographs. Not digi-frames, but actual, paper photos hung on a wall over the desk, small, carefully cut pieces of tape on each corner. Takemura leaned in a little to take a better look, intrigued by this old-fashioned display of nostalgia. It wasn’t out of character for Viktor, judging by the sheer amount of trophies he kept in his clinic, but still, this specific type of reminiscence wasn’t something that Takemura came upon too often. Moreso, despite his efforts to the contrary, his curiosity about the doctor’s personal life was only growing. It was impolite to sniff around his apartment like this, pry into the other man’s privacy, but the photos were there for him to see, practically luring him in. Moreover, it made him realize how little he knew about Viktor.

    Shortly after their first meeting, the ripperdoc would let him hang around the clinic for a few hours when Takemura stopped by to check on V during the weeks it took her to recover and a few times even offered to watch boxing matches together, throwing in anecdotes from his own sports career in between the speaker’s commentary. Takemura appreciated the gesture, these times they spent hunched over the tiny screen on Viktor’s desk, a moment of downtime Takemura didn’t realize he needed back then, alone in a foreign city, persecuted by his own people. Compared to the chaos that Night City was, the clinic felt stable, safe and consistent. Check on V, chat with Viktor, reluctantly accept his invitation to stay for a few hours. Rinse and repeat. Takemura wouldn’t admit to himself how comforting Viktor’s presence felt, how easy it was to drop his guard around him, kept telling himself that one of these days he’d just see if V was still breathing and go on his way, work on a plan while laying low, blending into the crowd. However, all things come to an end - eventually V pulled through and Takemura felt he had lost an excuse to visit the clinic and so he stopped coming, throwing himself into putting the pieces of his old life back together. There was no time for indulgences anymore. He had to stay vigilant all the way through and not let himself get distracted as he and V miraculously managed to pull off each part of their insane plan.

    They weren’t friends, exactly, their relationship bordering on acquaintances, but before that there was only one thing connecting them - V. With her gone, that thin thread between them was bound to break, wither away into nothing, and yet it didn’t the moment  Viktor was thoughtful enough invite him to V’s memorial.

    Takemura raised a hand to straighten the corner where the tape gave out, a centerpiece photo of Viktor, V, Misty, and a man with a square jaw and smiling eyes, arm thrown around Misty’s shoulders. They were at a diner of some sorts, washed out, red leather of the seats reminding Takemura of the same restaurant he spent hours nursing the same cup of coffee so he wouldn’t be kicked out. Plus, he still looked like a corpo back then. That also could’ve helped his case.

    There were more photos of them, the group hanging out in various settings, at what looked like some sort of a festival, a bar, karaoke even, all these tiny moments forever captured in a single frame. Viktor and the man from the first photo after a sparring, foreheads glistening with sweat, a wide grin on their exhausted faces. There were a few others, ones where Viktor was noticeably younger, wrinkles that now lined his face not yet visible. Some of the photos were creased with white break marks where the pictures have been folded, the corners worn with age.

    Just as Takemura was about to turn away, already feeling like he was leering, he noticed that one of the pictures had fallen to the ground. He leaned down to grab it and put it back where it belonged, filling the empty space it left behind on the wall, but not before he could take a look. The photo was quite old, though not quite as old as some of the others. Viktor was standing with an arm casually thrown over another man’s shoulders, both in Trauma Team uniforms, smiling for the camera.

    Takemura hummed. Of course, that Trauma patch Viktor wore wasn't for show, but at the same time, the ripper didn’t seem too open about his career there. Takemura looked at the man next to Viktor. He was much leaner, Japanese heritage clearly visible in his features. He was smiling, too, practically leaning on the man next to him, daring eyes looking straight into the camera. Takemura let himself wonder, gently fondling the photo between his fingers. A good friend? He turned the photo and read the date. April 23rd, 2068, nearly a decade ago. More than enough time for circumstances to change, new opportunities to arise, friendships to dissolve, Takemura thought as he placed the photo back in its place.

    Enough of that. What he needed right now was a hot shower, the kind that almost burned, forcing the strained muscles to relax. Takemura could feel how clammy his skin was, covered with layers of dried sweat from the days he spent tossing and turning, battling the ever rising fever. Washing it all off was bound to make him feel better, and even if it didn’t, it was certainly a start.

    Takemura made his way to the bathroom, taking note of a fresh towel and a small pile of clothes left there, a small note laid on top of a neat pile. He smiled softly at an I hope it fits this time written in small, jabby cursive, but let it be for now, instead leaning down to turn the faucet of the bathtub on. It took him some time to figure out the proper ratio of cold to hot water, the pipes gurgling warningly at every turn, but eventually, he was satisfied. While the tub filled, he took off his clothes and folded them carefully, placing the pile in the laundry basket and waited until the tub was finally full.

    Careful not to wet the bandage covering the entirety of his left arm, Takemura slipped into the water with a deep sight. The bathtub was quite big, long enough for him to straighten his legs comfortably. Left arm resting on the edge of the tub, he let the rest of his frame submerge into the water completely, already feeling the sheer temperature of it forcefully untwisting the knots that his muscles have turned into. Brushing away the wet strands of his long hair, he grabbed a bar of soap resting on a small stand and started sliding it over his skin, carefully washing the crevices where chrome met flesh. Soon enough the clear water dulled into milky whiteness and Takemura let his head rest on the edge of the tub, closing his eyes and letting himself simply enjoy the warmth surrounding him. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, skipping over his plans for the foreseeable future. After regaining access to his account and the little money he managed to stash there, the first thing he’ll do is pay Viktor off, twofold for all his trouble. Then what? He didn’t want to think about it too much in the moment, but soon enough he’ll have to. Maybe he should just take these few days off, let his body heal before he has to make any big decisions. With his old life ending the way it did, sooner or later he’ll have to start building a new one.

    Because in a way, a part of him died in that abandoned parking lot in North Oaks. By not accepting the fate Saburo-dono decided for him, Takemura denied everything he ever sworn by, this final act of disobedience ending the man he once was. The only man he knew how to be. If he was honest with himself, he was scared that not much else might be left.

    Takemura didn’t even notice when the water turned cold until he felt himself shiver slightly, the pleasant warmth no longer engulfing him. He must’ve lost track of time, he thought as he stood to get out of the tub, careful not to slip. Takemura reached for the towel and started drying himself, surprised at how soft the material was. Eventually, he wrapped it around his hips and leaned over the edge of the sink, feeling as if it was the first time he had really looked at his reflection in months. Silver threads in his hair had crept up beyond his temples, making his skin look even paler, even more so with how deep the dark circles beneath his eyes were. He looked thinner, too, muscles he considered his own personal armor, an essential part of what used to be his job for decades, giving way to the bones straining against his skin, a palpable testament to the toll the last few months have taken on him. Takemura let his fingers ghost over the skin, dancing around the fresh scar right where the left side of his ribcage ended, until he reached up, all the way to his sternum where flesh met metal and further, to his cybernetically modified neck.

    He rubbed his hand over the insolation, red threading still wet from the bath. The touch felt distant, his fingers going over the cables and metal elements, all connected in an intricate pattern keeping the entire construction functional. Takemura felt a sudden need to tug at the cabling, see how much manhandling it’d allow before giving way. It felt suffocating, Arasaka logos all over the metal plates loudly declaring to whom he belongs. With that collar on him, could he really be something else?

    Takemura turned his eyes away from the mirror, as if afraid of what else he might see if he stared at it any longer. He pulled his still wet hair up into a messy knot and got dressed, the entire ordeal taking him an embarrassingly long amount of time. Viktor clearly had an eye, because the clothes, a charcoal pair of dress pants and a simple, navy shirt, fit him almost perfectly. Takemura hummed in appreciation, making a mental note to thank the doctor later and stepped out of the bathroom, but as he was making his way up to the chair where he left his coat, he saw a pair of yellow eyes staring right at him, seemingly just as surprised as he was. Was it the same ghost that kept haunting him for a while now?

    “V…?” Takemura heard his voice in the otherwise completely silent apartment, the merc’s name escaping his lips before he could even think about what he was about to say. The animal in front of him let out a meow before jumping off the counter and making its way to where Takemura was standing, still unable to move. As he felt its small body, very much corporeal, rub against his legs, he finally allowed himself to exhale. It was just a cat. Not a bakeneko, but an actual feline, one that seemed to take a liking to him almost immediately. As he passed the kitchen, only now noticing the two small bowls placed in the corner of the counter. Takemura scoffed at himself, embarrassed that such a thought would even cross his mind as he walked up to the couch, the cat following him closely. When he reached out a hand to grab his coat, the cat jumped onto the couch and meowed once more.