When you kiss me, Heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose
I wanted to try and do something with dramatic lighting so *shrug emoji* I took this in Konpeki Plaza fun fact! They are so in love, and SPECIFICALLY, try to act so normal in their relationship. Victoria has mostly sectioned off her time as a merc from her mind, except for the time she spent with Takemura. What? A nagging voice in the back of her mind that sounds like a dead rockerboy that quietly questions her choices and is actually saying things that make sense? Things that she wants to follow in some part of her soul, but doing so would threaten the peace she has, her husband's life, and her children's??? Naaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
Summary: Six months ago, V’s boss at Arasaka ordered her to assassinate his rival. Instead, with the reluctant but invaluable help of her old friend Jackie Welles, she pushed them both off their thrones and claimed one for herself. Now the new Director of Arasaka Counter Intel has a problem. She’s uncovered information that indicates that Yorinobu Arasaka, the heir apparent to the Arasaka dynasty, is a traitor. But without solid proof, she’s forced to take matters into her own hands.
The glowing red words flashed once across V’s vision, then vanished.
In the darkness, there was nothing, except Silverhand’s silent, ubiquitous presence. Then there was movement, shifting black structures reminiscent of net architecture, coiling around her. Silverhand’s presence faded. Like a signal slipping out of range.
Without warning, she was falling, plummeting headfirst toward a small but growing speck of light. There was no rush, no wind—only a sense of deepening distance.
—
V’s eyes flew open, and she lurched upright.
Something yanked her short, forcing the air from her gut and snapping her head back against the hard surface beneath her. Baffled, V looked down. Heavy restraints bound her arms, legs, and midsection to a reclining chair. Reflexively, she strained against the straps, expecting her gorilla arms to rip right through them.
They didn’t budge. Her strength was gone. Deactivated.
V took a measured breath, forcing down her rising panic. Fear never saved anyone’s life. Only action could do that.
Optics focused, she scanned her surroundings. Though she was certain she’d never been in this particular room before, it felt familiar—like a smaller version of her doctor’s office.
The room was compact and immaculate, its nearly seamless walls broken only by a few cabinets and embedded diagnostic screens. The furnishings were minimal. A sleek black counter ran along one wall, topped with meticulously organized medical instruments, and a couple of metal chairs were tucked neatly in a corner. Recessed strips of lighting ran along the ceiling, casting a cool, clinical glow over everything.
Definitely an Arasaka facility. She spotted the three-pronged emblem glinting on a vital signs monitor by her side. She was likely still in the Tower. That, at least, was a relief.
But how the hell had she wound up here?
Her mind still muddled by Silverhand’s memories, she grasped for the last clear memory of her own life: a searing pain in the back of the head. A gunshot wound.
A gunshot wound to the head? Yet there was no pain. Not even the numbness that would suggest anesthesia. No sign at all that she’d been injured.
V frowned. She could’ve sworn Takemura had shot to kill. Was the memory false, corrupted by the malfunctioning Relic in her head?
And what the hell was up with that damn thing? She’d known the tech was designed to facilitate communication with the engram, but she’d never heard it would let you watch their memories through their own eyes.
That had been… a jarring experience, to put it lightly. At least she’d managed to learn some interesting details about the AHQ Disaster. Even if Silverhand had been hellbent on hiding the truth.
But that was a story from fifty years ago, and V had more immediate problems.
Though she knew it was pointless, she struggled against the straps one more time, again meeting the same frustrating lack of strength. Like she was full organic again. Weak.
Her fear spiked. If only action could save her life, there was no greater doom than being powerless to act.
She clenched her jaw, rebuking herself silently. As long as she was alive, there was still hope. And there were ways to act without movement.
She flicked her eyes, pulled up her optical HUD, and scrolled through the menu for anything that might prove useful. Outward communication was blocked, of course, but her enhanced auditory suite was still functioning. Interesting. She activated it.
All the expected sounds filled her awareness—the faint beeping of medical monitors, the low hum of power in the walls, the steady rhythm of the facility’s air systems. Nothing notable. She tweaked the sensitivity, and a new sound floated in: the murmur of a voice, just beyond comprehension. It came from behind, clearly from a different room, muffled by fortified walls. Though she strained, she couldn’t make out any actual words.
She pushed the sensitivity up another notch. A safety warning popped up in her HUD; she dismissed it and pushed a little further still. The words snapped into clarity.
“—with Smasher tearing the whole department apart,” a voice said. V clocked the slight but familiar accent right away: Anders Hellman. A muffled sound followed, maybe a quiet scoff. “I still don’t understand that decision. Do you think Yorinobu really believes he can be trusted?”
“I do not know.” The second voice was unmistakable—cold, curt, precise. Goro Takemura. “But I do not believe it is a matter of trust.”
V’s brow furrowed. Hellman and Takemura, working together? Had they been the ones who’d brought her here?
“Then what?” Hellman asked.
“Sabotage.”
There was a pause. V heard a tapping sound that might have been fingers at a keyboard.
“Sabotage…” Hellman repeated thoughtfully. “Look, Takemura, I agree with your view about Yorinobu’s larger goals, but surely he must realize that he’s also harming himself by putting someone so unstable in charge?”
“People like him do not care if they burn, so long as the world burns with them.”
Another muffled sound—something between an exasperated sigh and a nervous gulp. Then silence, broken only by that faint tapping of keys.
In the lull of conversation, V tried to make sense of what she’d heard. Takemura had mentioned sabotage, but she didn’t have enough context to know exactly what he’d meant. Still, it seemed neither he nor Hellman approved of Yorinobu’s recent decisions. That could be a very good sign.
What struck her more was Takemura’s final comment—and the tone with which he’d made it. Anger. Practically hatred. When they’d spoken in her office, she hadn’t gotten that impression from him at all. Had something changed? Was he opposing Yorinobu? And if so, could she convince him that she did too?
The tapping stopped. “She’s awake,” Hellman said, a hint of shock in his voice.
V tensed. She’d been noticed.
There was a shuffle, then the soft thud of footsteps. “Already?” Takemura asked. “Was not your estimate longer?”
“Yes, I thought so,” Hellman replied. “I’ll speak to her. Just give me a moment to prepare the—”
“No,” Takemura said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “I will speak to her first.”
From directly behind came the screech of a door sliding open. The sound hit her like a nerve strike, and she scrambled to turn her cyberaudio sensitivity down again.
Takemura stepped into her field of vision, a folded metal chair in one hand. He set it down and sat, leaning back, the pistol at his waist directly in her line of sight. An JKE-X2 Kenshin, she noted. A standard gun for Arasaka operators.
He looked just as she remembered him: black silver-streaked hair tied into a neat bun, shiny red cyberware peeking from the top of his collar. His clothing was different, more Western but still business formal—dark slacks and a matching jacket over a starch-white shirt. A suit that would fit right in among the conference rooms of AHQ.
Takemura pulled something from his pocket and set it gently on the counter by her chair: a thin, battered chain with a worn dog tag dangling from its end.
She recognized it, of course, a sinking feeling settling in her chest. She knew exactly what the characters carved into that faded surface said. Nihon Kaigun. Imperial Japanese Navy.
“Explain,” Takemura said.
The look in his eyes told her the time for lies was past.
“I took that tag off Saburo Arasaka’s body to prove that I was witness to his murder,” she began. Fear made her hesitate. There was no going back from this. “At the hands of his son, Yorinobu Arasaka.”
No reaction from Takemura. No widened eyes; no stiffened muscles. Not the slightest hint of surprise. Did he already know? Or did he simply not believe her?
“I have footage of the act,” she continued, perhaps a bit too fast. “A braindance I scrolled through my optics. I can show you, but it’ll need to be edited first. A raw BD can overwhelm you if you’re not used to—”
“I have seen your footage,” Takemura said.
V froze, completely thrown off. That BD was supposed to be her ace in the hole. “You have?”
“That is why you are here, and not at the bottom of a dumpster.”
The tightness in her chest eased—just a bit. Shock aside, the important thing was that he seemed to believe her. She might yet survive this.
“My optics,” he said, tapping a forefinger near the corner of his right eye, “also possess a special ability. They were created by Arasaka’s best netrunner. When activated, they send a custom quickhack into the optics of another individual, retrieving the information stored in their neuralware. The program is very effective. I have yet to encounter self-ICE that it cannot bypass.”
In other words, the only thing he needed to access every piece of data in your personal archive was eye contact. What an elegant technique.
“I tell you this,” Takemura continued, leaning forward, “so that you know how difficult it is to lie to me. Your honesty thus far has earned you the right to continue to live. But stray from honesty, and that right can be revoked. Do you understand?”
V nodded, once.
“Good.” He leaned back, calm and steady. “Why were you in Yorinobu’s suite?”
“I have a source at NetWatch,” V began. “An agent who feeds me information relevant to Arasaka’s interests—”
“Name,” Takemura interrupted.
Despite the danger, she hesitated. “Takemura-san, the integrity of intelligence operations depends on the confidentiality of—”
“Name,” he said again. His tone told her she would not be given a third chance.
“Bryce Mosley,” V said, with an internal twinge of regret.
“Continue.”
She took a breath. What was done was done.
“Mosley informed me that someone at NetWatch had struck a deal with Yorinobu to purchase the engram of Johnny Silverhand, stored on an Arasaka Relic. An under-the-table deal without the approval of the Arasaka board. And without the approval of its CEO.”
“And this Mosley,” Takemura asked, “he said that NetWatch was interested in the engram, not the Relic itself?”
V frowned. He was right; it was odd. She’d thought so at the time, too. “Yes, that’s how he phrased it. I questioned him about it, but he said he didn’t know why they wanted that engram in particular.”
He nodded. “Continue.”
“My first move was to bring the information to the Director of Special Operations, Frank Nostra. But he told me that the department couldn’t act against a faction leader and possible heir without solid proof. I trusted Mosley’s intel, and I knew that with the exchange scheduled for later that night, any potential proof would be lost if we waited. So I decided I had no choice but to get it myself.”
“How?”
“You already know my cover story,” she said, tilting her head. “I bought a ticket to Hideyoshi Oshima’s conference and left early. The conference rooms are on the 98th floor. I knew Yorinobu wouldn’t stay anywhere but the penthouse suite, so I used the vents to climb up the last two floors.”
“How did you bypass security?”
“Yorinobu doesn’t keep a human security detail. Heard that from one of my counterparts at Arasaka Intel.”
She’d heard it from several, actually. Intel and Counter Intel were notoriously competitive, and the men she’d spoken to had practically bragged about the fear some of the higher-ups at Arasaka had that their every move was relayed directly back to the Emperor. As if that paranoia somehow reflected positively on their department. Personally, V thought they could learn a thing or two about subtlety.
“That left only technological security,” she continued. “Cameras, turrets, the usual. I planned to use Carter Smith, my department’s head netrunner, to disable them…” She hesitated. This part would sound implausible, but with Hellman involved, there was a chance Takemura had already spoken to Carter. Lying would be even riskier. “But once he started, he realized everything was already disabled.”
“It’s the Relic,” V said, frowning. “I didn’t know it at the time, but there was someone else after it.”
“Who?”
Her mouth ran dry. Damn it all. Every part of the truth made her sound guilty. But she had no other cards left to play. All she could do at this point was choose her words carefully.
“A mercenary by the name of Jackie Welles,” she said. “I recognized him because we’ve worked together in the past. He was in the Valentinos before he switched to solo mercenary work. I would hire him and his gang sometimes, for jobs too questionable to risk associating directly with Arasaka agents.”
Takemura scoffed quietly. “You executives in this city associate so eagerly with the gangs. Yet you wonder why your integrity is in question.”
“We do what we have to,” V said, in a careful, neutral tone. She doubted it was any different in Japan, but she was hardly in a position to argue the point.
“Is that so?” Takemura asked. “And did you have to conspire with Jackie Welles?”
“I didn’t conspire with him,” V insisted. “I had no idea he would even be there.”
“Yet you and he escaped from the Plaza in your AV. To meet with the fixer Dexter DeShawn.”
“How did you—”
She cut herself off. Of course. The spy at the door.
“Yes,” Takemura confirmed, clearly reading the recognition in her eyes. “That was my first attempt to intercept you.”
It was a humbling feeling, the realization of just how far ahead of her he’d been the whole damn time. But what else would she expect? The private bodyguard to the CEO of the megacorp with the greatest security branch in the world—how could he be anything other than the best of the best? That demand for quality was the very reason she’d always been so proud to work for Arasaka.
“If you were listening,” she said firmly, “then you heard that I was there to offer DeShawn the chance to turn on the client who hired him, not to sell him the Relic. And if you’ve examined me, then you know exactly where the Relic ended up.”
“What I heard was an argument between three panicked thieves who were in over their heads and no longer knew how to proceed,” Takemura answered coldly. “As for the Relic, we will come to that soon.”
Damn it all to hell. She had no way to prove her innocence. She hated to resort to pleading, but what else was there to do?
“Takemura-san,” she said, leaning as far forward as her restraints allowed, “I swear to you, I was never trying to steal the Relic. I let Welles hang on to it just long enough to make him take me to his fixer. When I realized we were being watched, I chose to protect Arasaka assets. I grabbed the Relic and jumped out a window. I only slotted it into my head because the case was damaged in the fall. I went to Hellman immediately afterwards because I thought he’d be able to remove it safely. It was always my intention to bring the Relic back. My sole loyalty is to Arasaka.”
You have to believe me, she almost added. But that would sound just a little too desperate.
Takemura gazed at her. For the first time, she saw a flicker of doubt in those strange, shining eyes. Then it died.
“You speak of loyalty. Of protecting Arasaka assets.” His voice was quiet, controlled. “Yet you watched Arasaka-sama die. And you did nothing.” His nostrils flared. He drew a slow, steady breath. “Why?”
V’s stomach sank. She’d asked herself that same question. Why hadn’t she intervened? Out of fear for her life?
She should have acted anyway. She knew that. Certainly Saburo Arasaka’s life was far more valuable than hers. And yet. When it came down to it, her life was hers.
It seemed an insufficient excuse. The look in Takemura’s eyes left her doubtless that he would have laid his life down for his boss if he’d had the chance. The chance she’d had. The chance she’d squandered. How could she ask him to trust her after that?
“I was afraid,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t think I’d survive resisting Yorinobu. I knew Smasher was nearby, and that you were as well. But I didn’t know whose side either of you would take.”
“A bodyguard to Arasaka-sama would never betray him.”
“Before that night, I might’ve said the same about a son.”
“That is different,” he insisted. Then he hesitated. “But you would have no way of knowing that.”
“Takemura-san,” she pressed, encouraged by his concession. It had been brief, but she had to take whatever chance she could. Had to remind him that she still had value to offer. “You’re right. I should have acted when I had the chance. But that chance has passed. No one can change the past, but anyone can change the future. I have the footage. You can corroborate my claim that the BD is unedited, and you must have significant standing with the Board. If we were to step forward—”
His jaw clenched. “Not one of the board members believes Yorinobu’s claims.”
“But—” she stuttered. “They—”
“They swallow his lies because he possesses power. And they pretend they do not see the cracks that show in his story at the slightest glance. The very truth has become taboo in the upper echelons of Arasaka. Known to all but never spoken aloud.”
V was silent. She’d always known that sort of thing went on at Arasaka. Abernathy had quietly eliminated troublesome coworkers for years. Jenkins had tasked her with Abernathy’s assassination as though it were just another job. If she’d gone through it, it wouldn’t have been the first blood on her hands. Not by a long shot.
It was hardly unique to Arasaka. It was the law of nature.
Yet it still came as a shock to find that even Saburo Arasaka was bound by the same rules as other men.
In a way, it was a vindication.
Her voice cooled a few degrees. “Then we beat him at his own game.”
Takemura’s eyebrows twitched. “Explain.”
V bit her lip, her mind whirring. “What does Yorinobu know of my involvement at Konpeki Plaza?”
“Nothing. I had planned to contact him after I dealt with you.” His voice hardened. “Until I found your recording.”
A faint chill traced her spine. “I really thought you were shooting to kill.”
“I was.”
The chill deepened. “Then—”
“We will come to that,” Takemura said. “Continue.”
V nodded absently, still deep in thought. Theoretically, there was no way she should have survived that. But this was Arasaka, and Takemura and Hellman both stood at the top of their respective hierarchies. They must have used some sort of exclusive medical treatment on her. Perhaps the very same kind of regenerative therapy she’d heard Saburo Arasaka regularly underwent.
Not that he would be needing it anymore.
“Does Yorinobu believe he was undetected?” she asked.
“As far as I am aware. There was no autopsy, no formal investigation. I only looked into events at the Plaza myself because I doubted Yorinobu’s claims of poison.” His shoulders squared with restrained offense. “Arasaka-sama would never have allowed himself to be caught off guard in such a way.”
“I agree,” V said thoughtfully. “It was a tenuous claim.” Her first instinct would be to say it had been a lie of impulse, a slip made in a moment of panic. But Yorinobu hadn’t seemed particularly panicked at the time. “I don’t think he actually expected anyone to believe it.”
A brief pause, as though he were surprised she’d arrived at that conclusion. “Most likely he did not. I believe Yorinobu intended to incite suspicion regarding the circumstances of Arasaka-sama’s death.”
“But why?” V asked, frowning. “Wouldn’t that also cast suspicion onto him?”
“Yorinobu seeks to destabilize Arasaka. To create chaos. He does not care if he has to put himself at risk for that purpose.”
His earlier words, the ones she hadn’t been meant to hear, rang through her mind.
People like him do not care if they burn, so long as the world burns with them.
Her frown deepened. Martyrs were the most dangerous kind of enemy. A self-serving enemy was rational, predictable. An enemy willing to sacrifice themselves for their cause was capable of anything.
Another memory rang through her mind. Her coworkers on the 33rd floor, discussing the potential culprits in Saburo Arasaka’s death.
Mark my words. We need to be preparing for a fifth corporate war.
“I see,” V said quietly. “Uncertainty is what he wants. If no one knows who to blame for Arasaka-sama’s death, then anyone can be justified as a potential enemy.”
Another pause, but briefer this time. His head inclined a fraction, something like acknowledgment in it. “Yes. You and your mercenary were never part of his plan.”
She huffed a sharp breath through her nose. And to think she’d considered going directly to Yorinobu with an offer. She’d come so close to death so many times…
“No, of course not,” she said. “If there was someone who appeared most guilty of Araka-sama’s murder, it would undermine the doubt he wants to sow.”
“Precisely. If I had gone to him with news of your capture, I am not certain what he would have done.” His expression darkened. “He may even have tried to eliminate me. Though he would have found it a far less straightforward task than he perhaps imagines.”
V suppressed a smile. She might’ve enjoyed watching that. But it was far better to have the element of surprise.
“Then you’ve managed to convince Yorinobu you’re on his side?”
His lips compressed. “I have done what was necessary to hide my suspicion. I have held my tongue and accepted reprimand for my failure. I…” A brief hesitation. “I am not certain if he believes I am ‘on his side’ anymore than his fellow members of the board…” Another hesitation, this one obviously frustrated. Clearly the conduct of his superiors rankled him. “But I believe he has accepted my compliance.”
“And Hellman?”
“You have been spying, I see,” he commented, without a hint of surprise.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m not prone to sitting around helplessly, Takemura-san.”
His eyes flicked to her restraints. “You might have fooled me.”
V tilted her head, briefly studying his expression. Had that been a veiled threat or an actual attempt at humor? Despite the circumstances, she thought the latter. He was warming to her, whether he was ready to admit it or not.
“There are ways to act without movement,” she said. “But we digress. Has Hellman avoided Yorinobu’s suspicions or not?”
“No more or less than anyone else with interest in the manner. Though he nearly managed to ruin that for himself. After your meeting, he… panicked. Intended to defect to Kang Tao.” A subtle shake of his head. “I intercepted him when I realized I required him for your medical treatment.”
V nodded, another piece of the puzzle sliding into place. It made perfect sense. If Takemura’s clever optical hack had alerted him that the Relic was in her head, Hellman would have been the obvious choice.
“Do you trust him?” she asked.
“No less than I trust you.”
“Good,” V said, her mind whirring even faster now.
Another potential ally, along with Takemura, Carver, and Nostra…
“What about Welles and DeShawn?” she asked, careful to keep her tone indifferent. She’d avoided that question thus far because she didn’t want Takemura to think she had any undue concern about Jackie’s wellbeing, but she had to know how those loose ends might factor into her plan.
“They escaped.”
Relief burst in her chest. She stifled it. “How?”
“Your doing, in a way. When you split off from the rest of the group, I chose to pursue you instead of them.”
“And they’ve not been captured since?”
“Unlikely. No one knows of their involvement except Hellman-san and myself. We have both been otherwise occupied for the past few days.”
V looked down, taking a moment to digest this new information. If it were true, then it was possible they’d actually managed to get away. If she could locate Jackie… assuming he’d even be willing to talk to her…
Wait. Had Takemura said the past few days?
She looked up sharply. “How long have I been unconscious?”
“Approximately one week.”
“A week?”
Holy shit. She’d hadn’t taken a full week off work since—
She’d never taken a full week off work.
“What about my department?” she demanded. “Where do they think I am?”
A corner of Takemura’s mouth twitched. Just for a second, but she caught it.
“Do not panic,” he said calmly. “I ensured that you had a cover story when I realized that you may prove useful. They believe that you have been assisting with a confidential mission for the supervisor of Arasaka’s security contracts in Night City.”
“Yoru Tomobiki?” V asked, confused.
“No. Tomobiki-san has been asked to retire. I am the new supervisor.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You accepted a job in Night City?”
It was hardly uncommon for Arasaka employees to transfer from the Tokyo branch to the Night City one, but it was quite the step down for a former bodyguard of Saburo Arasaka.
Takemura’s mouth set in a thin line. “Accepting the position helped to convince Yorinobu that I had been placated. He has made his cyborg bodyguard Head of Security, and he likely believes that placing me under his authority will help him to keep an eye on me. Or perhaps he simply wishes to humble me. Either way, Night City is the best place to be at the moment. This is where Yorinobu will focus his efforts for the foreseeable future.”
“I see,” V said. “Makes sense. Night City is closer to the NUSA than any other Arasaka territory. Closer to Militech’s sphere of influence. If he’s trying to cause conflict, even start another corporate war…”
She trailed off. It’d been fifty-two years since the Fourth Corporate War had devastated the world. V had studied the war from an academic perspective in school, but in that moment, what came to mind was the mark she’d seen it leave on her parents.
Her father had lost his own father in the AHQ bombing. If his mother hadn’t been on maternity leave at the time, he might have lost her too. She had raised him and his sister alone, returning to work almost immediately to support them. He’d been so young at the time that as an adult, he had hardly even remembered the man—just the hole in his life where a father should have been. He’d tried to plug that hole by upholding his Arasaka legacy, and he’d raised his daughter to do the same.
Her mother had grown up in Old Japantown, the daughter of Japanese immigrants. That entire district had been wiped off the map in the war. Her family had spent the next few years moving back and forth between tent cities and borrowed rooms until the NCSS—a conglomerate of Japanese corps in Night City—had built the megabuildings in Watson that finally gave them a stable home. V’s mother had spent her adult life climbing the corporate ladder to ensure that she would never again have to rely on anyone else’s goodwill for her survival. And she’d taught her daughter to do the same.
At least her parents would never have to go through that again. They’d been dead for years.
It was the rest of the world that had to worry.
V met Takemura’s gaze and saw her thoughts mirrored in his somber expression. “Let us hope we can stop him before it comes to that,” he said.
She nodded. “We’d damn well better.” She gestured at her restraints with the moveable part of her arms. “Let me go, Takemura-san. I think you know I’m on your side.”
He held her gaze a moment longer. Then he sighed. “Unfortunately, it may not be so simple. As I mentioned, there is still the matter of the Relic.” He stood and stepped around her chair, to the door from which he’d entered. V heard the sound of it sliding open. “Hellman-san,” Takemura said, “we are ready for you.”
