certified woken samurai

But it works, and the little boy with cyberware too dense for his body and still not enough for the weight his parents are pressing on his shoulders smiles so brightly it makes her chest ache. Pearly whites on full display as his lips split with such a genuine joy, his eyes – still organic, but for how long? – almost wet with tears twinkle under the white overhead lights. Delighted and trusting.

Naïve, a venomous voice hisses, and she can’t distinguish if it’s her mother’s or Victoria’s for how they overlap. A harmony of both.

“Right kiddo, you run along so I can get that meeting set up okay?” Her muscles ache with the smile now and they falter minutely at his responding ‘okay!’ Still, she keeps it up until the door mutes the distinct light patter of the boy’s steps. The breath she releases when it drops is exhausted, unrelieved.

“Well,” Victoria croons over their line, “that was certainly a…very you approach.”

“What, were you expecting me to zero the kid?” She had meant it to be an extreme, an unthinkable thing – but her throat dries at the thought. What was unthinkable to her was likely little more than a day that ends with a y for the other.  

“No, but it perhaps would have been kinder.”

“I doubt that.” Wisteria says softly as she jacks into the terminal, both letting the silence settle and stew. And maybe this is another lesson, or another one of Victoria’s bullshit tactics, the silence sits heavy for her, settles onto her shoulders little by little as each second ticks by and the download bar crawls forward.

It’ll be fine.

They’ll actually get to be kids, get to run around and laugh and play sports because it’s fun, not because it’ll line someone else’s pockets. Not their parents and not some corp. It’s better for him, him and every other kid here—

“He’ll be fine.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Something’s off in Victoria’s voice, a softness that borders on caring and she can’t tell if it’s supposed to be mocking or not. It sharpens the ache in her chest, has her press her lips together and nails clawing into the expensive wood of the desk.

“Just…let me get this over with.”

“Very well. Contact me when you’re done.” The call ends, the download bar finishes.