Day… Something. I lost count. Note for later. – 73.

  An infiltrator’s sword. Who would’ve thought that such a thing existed… Figures it’d be built for someone with cyberware already mounted. I’m sure Oda would have no problems wielding this thing. As for me – I’m stuck with a cludge job, courtesy of my good friend Viktor. He does amazing work, to be sure. I just never thought I’d be the intended recipient. Apparently this power source also fuels the electrical function of Gorilla Arms, except it’s far more potent, seeing as it doesn’t actually have to power the arms.

  It’s taken me a little while to learn how to control it – the sword, as well as the power supply. What’s most interesting is that the intensity is locked to my emotions – in a phrase, the more angry I get, the hotter the sword gets. I need to be careful not to start a runaway chain reaction; there’s no telling what might happen if I suffered a panic attack while using this thing. Would it cook me alive? Is there any sort of failsafe? Somehow I doubt it, seeing as Izanami is only a prototype.

  Izanami made me realize how much I got used to Shinden’s length. Maneuvering Shinden in tight spaces was actually quite easy, despite its long blade. Izanami has a longer blade still, and it’s got a two-handed grip. It’s more of a nodachi than a katana, and I will wear it as such due to how cumbersome it is to draw the thing. The grip is possibly the most awkward, extending over my head when I wear it on my back. I suppose I should thank my mother for insisting that I trained with odachi and polearms, otherwise I’d be facing a difficult learning curve.

  As it is, however, it handles remarkably similar to Shinden, despite the length variations. It weighs about the same, and I rotate it just as quickly, if not quicker because of the longer axis from the two-handed grip. Though I have yet to put that into practice, outside of cardboard training dummies, which this sword cuts through with gravity alone. It may look unsightly on my back, but it is, unequivocally, the best weapon for the job. And the job cares not about looks.

  I do still miss Shinden, of course, but I have to face the facts. If I’m going up against someone like Oda, I cannot count on my skills alone to carry me through the fight. I lucked out. He had me dead to rights. Shinden was failing, I made errors… All he had to do was run out the clock and I would’ve been finished. If I barely made it out alive from him, I certainly had no hope against Adam Smasher. Basically, this weapon is the only thing giving me a fighting chance against the Relic. And it probably came out of the very same black site that spawned the biochip in the first place - what a weird irony.

  Then there’s the question of Takemura – where was he? I have not heard back from him since I saved his life. He claimed to owe me one for that, to which I think that my action makes us even. No, he went back to Arasaka, no chance of anything else. He was a tremendous ace in Hanako’s pocket. And I suppose, then, that makes me Yorinobu’s.

  He sent me a text this morning, telling me that his plan would take some months to complete. He seemed to have a sort of confidence that I would actually be around to fulfill it. I wish I shared his sentiment. But I understand his position – what he’s trying to do, it can’t be accomplished overnight. The Arasaka Board has fifteen positions, and it needs twelve signing off to cement Yorinobu’s reign. That’s a lot of work ahead for him. But I had to hand it to him – he had a plan. And it made sense. Moreover, we needed each other for it to work – me to ensure that Mikoshi is destroyed and Saburo’s legacy forever dust in the wind. And Yorinobu to cement a new leader in its place. Is it perfect? No – but it’s a hell of a lot better than Hanako’s plan.

  –

  Day 74.

  I’m not shocking myself anymore, that’s a start. Misty dropped by to say hello. She read my tarot as well; I have it recorded here, just because I found this one particularly interesting…

  “The Fool Reversed… Mm…”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s a sign of recklessness, being taken advantage of by others. You’re eager and brimming with energy, but that makes you impulsive – vulnerable. But so are the people you meet, and that spells danger to you. Just remember to take a seat every once in a while, think things through.

  "The Lovers… Interesting… it seems that, despite these differences, there may be a bridge between them. Or, maybe you can build one? Who’s to say. Just remember that your own foundations are strong, and sometimes it’s worth it to trust and bring a sense of balance and peace…

  “The Devil…”

  “There’s always that…”

  “Now now, V… not all’s as it seems. The Devil represents feelings of emptiness, that which you fill with hedonistic activities. Even violent ones. It’s an omen that something may happen, something that’ll ensnare you if you’re not careful… Yet…

  “We come to the Empress. A great figure of feminine strength. Someone who knows what she wants and how to get it. Someone willing to grow to achieve her goals… A powerful card, for an equally powerful woman.”

  A powerful card, for an equally powerful woman… A nice sentiment, indeed. I don’t know why she still hangs out around me – how is it that she’s forgiven me so easily? Of all the people in this city who displays strength, it’s Misty Olszewski. Not V. I’m just some girl who swings swords around really quickly. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself lately. Oh well… Good news, though – the Aldecaldos are dropping by tomorrow, and they’re bringing some thrifted clothes with them. So I can finally change out of my jumpsuit. It’s about time… Even if I’m still paranoid as hell that someone will come by anytime now.

  I should also see about refilling Miyoko with fresh gasoline. But I have to go into the city for that… Well, I’ll give it one more day and if nothing happens, then I’ll take a chance. Why not. Besides, I still owe Johnny that favor.

  –

  Day 75.

  “You know…” I mumbled over to Johnny, “I’m willing to bet this sword’ll produce its own magnetic field. Hmph… What if I power the thing enough to bend bullets around it?”

  “What?” he paused, looking at me with a confused expression, “The fuck’d they lace that sake with?”

  “I dunno, but it’s good…” I grinned, taking another drink, “And what’s gotten up your ass today, anyway? I couldn’t even imagine you being happy. What would even make you happy?”

  “Getting slammed at 7 in the morning’s a good start.”

  “Hah, on it, boss…” I laughed, heading outside for some quick air, “You know we’ve been through Hell together, right?”

  “Wait ‘til we get to the good shit.”

  “But that’s just it,” I interjected, “We’re at the good shit. And you know what? It fucking sucks.”

  Johnny simply shrugged in kind, “Life’s a rollercoaster. Get to the top, only one way you go from there.”

  “Yeah…” I thought to myself, “And in the end, you end up right back where you started – Arasaka. Kinda poetic, huh?”

  “Least what we’ll be doin’ will have a lasting impact this time,” he grumbled, “Though I wouldn’t mind bringin’ another present to the 130th floor. Just for old times’ sake.”

  “Come on, man, not funny,” I shot back.

  “Whatever…”

  The sunrise was particularly nice today… I guess I still had the Afterlife to look forward to as well. Had to do that in the evening, though – hopefully without electrocuting anyone in the process.

  I’m definitely getting the hang of it, though. Turning it on almost felt like I was moving a finger that didn’t exist. It’s a neural impulse, so I basically just have to pretend like there’s a muscle there, and it activates… it’s so bizarre. But at least I’m not shocking myself anymore… usually.

  Vik did say he added an automatic kill-switch into it to prevent me from electrocuting myself if I’m not grounded or I shock myself by mistake – guess that little gadget’s getting a workout. It’s remarkably sophisticated for being just a battery pack ripped out of a set of electrified Gorilla Arms. Guess that’s what we get for modern tech. Of course, with no way to modulate the current’s intensity, it’ll stay at high-voltage no matter what. Which basically means that I could flash-boil some poor soul’s blood if I discharged the whole thing in a few seconds, turning their body into a pile of liquefied biomass. Electricity is fucking scary…

  I do still need to practice turning my sword on and off. As long as I’m moving around, it shouldn’t drain any power to keep the optical camouflage on, which is nice. Although I do have to get used to actually feeling this thing on my back or my hip or wherever I decide to put it. It doesn’t seem to discriminate anymore. The documents say it’s biometrically-linked to me, which probably means that no one else even picked up the thing with their bare hands. Well, as long as it looks nondescript when I’m just walking around, I don’t really mind. People noticing the fact that I'm armed isn’t exactly ideal for infiltration work. Something like this would’ve been an absolute wonder in the Konpeki heist… Just walk in and they'd be none the wiser. But, nope.

  Moreover, just because my sword is invisible doesn't mean it's not there. So there presents the very real dilemma of someone smacking their head into it as they pass, or what if there's some sort of error and it just becomes permanently invisible and I can never find it again? Hah, that'd be an oddly karmic way to go. The sword saw what I did to Shinden, so it's hiding from me.

  Nah, might as well keep it visible. I need to get used to it. And while it's cool to simply think about turning the sword invisible and it just does it, I think I'm starting to warm up to its looks a little. A little.

  “Man, I still haven’t decided whether I love or hate this sword…”

  “What’s it matter? It’s a sword, it cuts things. It ain’t rocket science.”

  “Yeah, I know, but…” I paused, “I… yeah. Okay, on the one hand, its paint is gorgeous, it’s extremely good at what it does, it’s bigger than Shinden without even being heavier… I mean, I’d have killed to have this thing when I was growing up.”

  “But…?”

  “But… It’s still not Shinden. The pommel gives it an extra like 10 centimeters of handle length, which is nice, but it’s not that silk-wrapped handle. It’s got a sharper blade, but it doesn’t have the same core that my ancestors used. And I need to get used to the gap in between the blade and the motors. I mean, I know they say it’s a necessary thing for the electricity to arc properly, but it still means that bullets may go through the hole… A-and then there’s the optical camouflage thing. Like I get it’s because the sword is for infiltrators, but for samurai, we’re supposed to wear our weapons proudly. It just… it goes against everything I’ve come to–”

  “V… it’s a sword,” Johnny reiterated, “Not just that, but it’s what we need. If it makes you feel that awkward, think of it like a rental car. Can use it while you rebuild Shinden or get som’n different.”

  “Hm…” I thought on his words for a few seconds, “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right…”

  “As per usual.”

  Conceited, as always… Oh well. I probably shouldn’t dawdle. Not while there’s still a fresh sake bottle on the counter, just begging for someone to appreciate its fragrances…

  –

  15 minutes later…

  “What is it that you plan to do with my body, exactly? You g-gonna whore me around like… like a… uh… fuck…”

  “Oh please, come on, V, you’re much classier than that. Always takin’ me to the nicest places–”

  “JOHNNY!”

  “Fuck me, I hate obnoxious drunks…”

  “H-HEY! How long until I drink enough for it to spill ov- hic– over to your side of the brain, huh? Maybe we can just w-wait until you take over mine. C-come on to my water– uh, my side of the pool, the water’s warm!”

  “Yeah, I can imagine…”

  “Hey, maybe if I tilt my head like this, all the sake will spill to you, huh?!”

  “Sure, just keep doin’ that. Bet the bartender finds it amusing.”

  “Oh come on, why you gotta be such a downer all the time?! – Bartender, another sake, and one for my friend!”

  “You got it.”

  “God dammit, V…”

  “SHUT UP! You’re just mad that I got better taste in liquor– e-heh!”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking, how did you know…”

  “God – why you always gotta be so sarcastic?! Would it kill you to smile for once in your fuckin’ shitty-ass miserable life? I-I mean, I know it’s fuckin’ awful and… and, uh… fuck was I sayin’?”

  “Think you might need some air.”

  “No! What I need is another drink. This one’s for Jackie… Next one for K-Kiyo. And then one for Yoshida! And f-finally… Robert John Linder… Heheh… What a fuckin’ name…”

  “Just Johnny to you.”

  “Yeah well you call me corposcoptrash youfuck! And you aren’t even w-wrong. I gave over a decade, a decade, for these people and what’d they do? Fucking threw me out on my drop-dead gor-g- sexy ass and I didn’t even get my pension! The FUCKS!”

  “Nothin’ helps grease the wheels of revolution like cheap sake.”

  “You’regoddamnright! A-and you know what? Know… what… Fuck, I don’t know…”

  “Know what, sure, I could use a drink, too.”

  “Here, heh, knock yourself out.”

  “Tell ‘im to get me a tequila. Chili garnish. Beer. On the rocks.”

  –

  15 more minutes later…

  “...And why the FUCK do they keep givin’ us swords, anyway! We’ve been b-blowing people– blowing people away with guns since the fucking Portugese showed up! What the fuck do t-they expect me to do to a tank, YELL AT IT UNTIL IT DIES?!”

  “FUCKIN’ A, V. And the corps expect me – me!– to go and do their fuckin’ dirty work? How ‘bout I b-bomb their fuckin’ asses back to the Stone Age, too, HUH?! AND LOOK WHERE THAT ENDED UP!”

  “And then they probably expect you t-to come into WORK tomorrow after fucking disabling ALL OF YOUR CYBERWARE. Imagine if I h-had a pacemak– hic–”

  “And here you are, complainin’ and shit and all I got was this LOUSY SILVERHAND.”

  “BAAH!”

  “THEN you gotta do all the work while e-everyone else drags their feet cause people wanna eat ‘thout payin’ the b-bill and my WALLET IS FUCKIN’ DRY! LOOK AT IT!”

  “And I’m SWIMMIN’ IN MONEY! I’m a fuckin’ NOBLEWOMAN, ROBBIE-BOO!”

  “Oh FUCK YOU, CALLIN’MEROBBIE…”

  “And I haven’t seen Judy in fuckin’ aaaages…”

  “Call me Rob again–”

  “And AAAGES–”

  “Call me that again, c’mon–”

  “N… N’ I miss Judy… Fucking fuckholefuck–”

  “Fuckin’ Rob, fuck… They call me SILVERHAND, okay? SILVER. HAAAAAND. Note the fuckin' Silver Hand.”

  “Fuck you, Johnny! Hah! Johnny! Hey-hey Johnny!!”

  “No, fuck you, what– e-heh…”

  “FUCK YOU! HAAH!”

  “Yeah?!”

  “Oh yeah!”

  “Yeah? Well FUCKYOUU… HAHAH!”

  “HAAAHAH!”

  –

  12 hours later…

  “The sun sucks…” I muttered as the death-rays shone into my room, permanently blinding and disfiguring me. That’s right, I’m a vampire now. A very tired, hungover vampire…

  “You okay, V?” Johnny whispered by my bedside.

  “Yeah, fine…” I mumbled on the disgusting bedsheet, “I’ve had way worse benders, to tell you the truth… Not for a long time, though… But it was fun…”

  “It was,” he continued, “Still, can tell something’s on your mind.”

  “Mmm… yeah… Just thinking about… well… everything…”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  I picked my head up a little and gave his question some thought. “I just… I’m having a hard time reconciling all of this. It’s a lot to… absorb. My whole life changed so… so dramatically in just a few months… This job was supposed to be the end of everything for us…”

  “What job?”

  “What? Oh, the Konpeki heist,” I clarified, “Yeah, Jackie was gonna open his little bar and retire on a pile of eddies. I was gonna pursue my passion for dancing… just… Hey. You know something?”

  “Hm?”

  “I’d never been to a club before. I mean, I have, on a job, but I’ve never, like, gone to a nightclub, you know, for fun…” I mulled to myself as I turned around and sat up, rubbing my eyes. Thankfully I take my liquor pretty well. “I’d never, like… gone out with a date to a club…”

  “Do you want to?” Johnny asked with a shrug.

  “I mean, with Judy, yeah…” I thought out-loud, “I bet she’d be a wonderful date. Rita, too.”

  “Well, then there’s a good goal,” he replied with a smile, “Now c’mon. Sun’s going down.”

  “W-wait, hang on,” I suddenly stopped him, “Misty just texted. Asked if I’m okay, if I need anything.” Guess that means that she and Vik moved my stuff over into her place. Man, that pair are the best friends I could ask for…

  “Alright, that’s one less thing on your mind, see?” Johnny said surprisingly reassuringly, “Now c’mon, let’s get some fresh threads. Got dudes sellin’ shit just down the street.”

  “Right, hang on, need to get Izanami…” I muttered, clipping the sword on my back. It instantly disappeared from view, though I could still feel it as I normally would… Man, this thing’s liable to trip me up. At least I won’t have any issues locating the saya when I go to sheath the thing.

  –

  “Look, V, it’s my night out, so I get to pick the outfit,” Johnny growled at me as I patted the dust off this tank top. I can’t believe this fucking guy was selling a Samurai band tee… I thought Johnny would have a priapism. Who the fuck sells merch from a band that folded seven decades ago, anyway?! Apparently the Aldecaldos, that’s who…

  “I know, I know, just… it’s crusty, dude… Ughh…”

  “Jesus Christ, V. Next you’re gonna tell me you’ve never been to a mosh pit before…”

  “A what pit?”

  “Mosh pit. You know… moshing?” his exaggerated arm movements didn’t help his case, “Oh, for fu– whaddo they teach kids in school these days…”

  I followed his instructions to the letter – albeit reluctantly. Finally combed my hair a bit and straightened it out as well. Black syn-leather pants from the depths of Miyoko’s trunk, some old cowboy-esque boots, and a shit-ton of accessories making all sorts of irritating noises on my wrists. It was certainly awkward getting them on, considering my hands are now magnetic. At least it wasn’t too powerful, otherwise I imagine I’d have many crushed blood vessels by now.

  That’s the other thing I’ve been struggling to come to terms with – the lack of any real feeling in my hands. Vik says it’s permanent nerve damage, so this is… just the way I feel now, I guess. I can still feel certain sensations – texture, temperature, a little bit of pressure. But I can’t feel anything else. I can’t feel the wind blowing on them. I pick up a wad of sand and it just feels like I’m squishing thin air. I bash my hand into the dresser and I don’t even notice until I hear the blood dripping. I think I genuinely need padded gloves, considering I can’t even feel pain anymore – a powerful magnet was liable to crush muscle and skin and I’d never even know it, I bet. Though that’s the least of my problems right now.

  “So, Afterlife?”

  I sighed and looked over my shoulder to see the world’s most irritating hallucination yet again. “Yes, Johnny… Afterlife. Before I change my mind.”

  “Good. Rogue should be there any minute,” he silently cheered, looking off towards the Night City skyline.

  “I’d like to point out that you have me dressed like a fucking tramp, you know that, right?” I sneered at him, shaking all the crap he wanted. Necklaces, piercings, bracelets, pitch-black eye shadow… I mean, I bet the style could work well, but not with this outfit. Though I guess it’s appropriate for a guy who used to front a garage rock band.

  “Hey, maybe I get a kick outta seein’ you squirm.”

  “You really wanna test me right now, Johnny?” I glared at him.

  Needless to say, he didn’t test me, leaving me to refill Miyoko with some fresh gasoline and heading back into Night City.

  “Man, where would we even move to…” I pondered out-loud as we got off the highway and headed into the city proper. “Can’t really risk living in the city, not anymore. We need somewhere outside Arasaka airspace.”

  “Could do Judy’s place,” Johnny suggested, “Either that or the ‘Caldos. Strength in numbers.”

  “Yeah, but Saul wanted to make that deal with Biotechnica, remember?” I noted, “We need somewhere off-grid.”

  “Any ideas?”

  I brushed my disgusting hair back as I thought on it, the traffic barely moving regardless. Fucking rush hour… “Yeah, I mean, the car’s good enough for now,” I speculated, “Got our clothes, armor, and weapons with us. All we need right now’s a roof.”

  “Wonder if Daddy Yorinobu’s got a place,” Johnny teased me.

  “Heh, probably owns half of Corpo Plaza… Honestly, not a bad idea. At least we’ll be off the radar from Hanako that way–”

  “I was being sarcastic, V…” he grumbled.

  “Yeah, I know, no corpo apartments. Besides, someone, somewhere will notice Miyoko and find us that way…” I pondered out-loud, “Nah, we’ll figure it out. One thing at a time, though. But there is some good news.”

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  “Oh?”

  “We’re not being hunted yet. Which means that Hanako likely still thinks we’re in her corner.”

  “Or you’re just testin’ the waters and there’s a shark a little way over yonder. C’mon, V. Don’t tempt fate, is all I’m sayin’.”

  “Except that if we don’t tempt fate, then we’re dead, Johnny. Or did you forget that part?” I sharply retorted, “We’re on a timer here. I’m doing this for you as a favor, so maybe you should stop giving me lip, huh?”

  We drove the rest of the way in relative silence, except from the occasional grinding of gears as I accidentally fumbled Miyoko’s transmission with my fucking hands. What a goddamn mess… Of course… Of course this shit happens to me. Why wouldn’t it?

  “Alright, let’s go over the plan one more time…” I muttered to Johnny as I pulled up to the Afterlife, “I give you control, you talk to Rogue about Adam Smasher, then you take the blue pill and we’re done. Correct?”

  “That is the plan,” he nodded, “Hop back in the passenger seat right after. In the meantime, sit back and enjoy the show. Hell, you might even like it.” That… doesn’t instill me with confidence…

  “Nah, not good enough,” I said insistently, “I’m handing you the reins here. I want your word that you won’t do anything I would do.”

  “Scout’s honor,” he grinned, “Yeah, I was a scout. Don’t tell anyone or I’ll put you in the ground myself.”

  He’d never let me live it down if I backed out now… Fine…

  It’s funny… Misty had to refill me for the blue pills three times now. And I have yet to touch the red pills just a single time – ‘let the demon out,’ she said. Something to that effect, I don’t quite remember now… Well, here goes nothing…

  Swallowed just fine. Hm. Wonder how long before it’ll take effe–

  “Heh… ‘Bout fuckin’ time.”

  –

  “Sergeant!” What? Who is it now…? “Sergeant Tokai!” Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s the new kid… Coming in sprinting like a madman. I picked up my beat-up M240 off the ground and checked to make sure I had ammo. The way he was running – something big’s headed our way.

  “Private Okada? Report,” I demanded.

  “S-Sergeant! Radio chatter’s saying Militech’s going for a beachhead in Pacifica!” Okada’s panicked breaths and shaking hands meant only one thing. They weren’t fucking around this time… Fuck…

  “We’re already losing ground to the south and east, we cannot afford to lose the beach as well,” I growled, “Alright, I want you to the roof, go get Kiyo and see if you can triangulate their exact coordinates.” I picked up my radio off the motel room table and keyed in Ayuzawa. “Listen, remember what you said last week, about movements to the west?”

  “What, about the possible landings?”

  “It’s happening. Get the rest of the unit.” I propped the 240 down on the balcony and went back to retrieve the rocket launcher.

  “Fuck– ah– Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Scars,” I shouted into the radio next, "They’re making the big push. Time to do some of that soldier bullshit we keep talking about. And get my Agent out of my room.” I carefully loaded the RPG, keeping the hammer uncocked as I headed out onto the terrace.

  “Shucks, really? And here I was about to do another little rain dance so visibility would improve.” Fucking wise-ass…

  People criss-crossed all over the place, throwing furniture and paper bags over the windows in a desperate effort to block out any movements and light sources. Fuck… And there’s traffic on the bridge. Collateral damage is inevitable. Why the hell are they pushing here… Night City’s supposed to be neutral… “Skulk One, Corsac Two, traffic. Our sector’s about to be compromised. We have actionable intel that a sizeable landing force is about to hit us on the beach.”

  “Define ‘sizeable,’ Corsac Two,” Captain Tanaka demanded.

  I tuned out my radio for a second. “Okada, you have an estimate?”

  “Yes, Ma’am – uh, I was driving across the bridge and saw ‘em – at least three attack helicopters and some AVs!” Fuck, that’s battalion-strength…

  “Sir, we’re estimating on the order of over a hundred combatants with aerial vehicle support. Orders?”

  “Sorry, did you say over a hundred?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Shit, they’re pincering… Get prepped to get the hell out of there,” Tanaka said with his usual fierce determination, “Your job is over. Rendezvous point is in grid two-two.”

  “Confirm, grid two-two.”

  “Long live the Emperor,” Tanaka proclaimed before keying out.

  "Long live the Emperor, Corsac Two out." Heh. ‘Long live the Emperor,’ indeed. Normally I wouldn’t be too fussed. After this, just move to the next strategically-important location and be on the lookout for the ongoing flood. Then the next. And the next. But we’re rapidly running out of real estate… If Militech’s allowed to establish a beachhead in Pacifica, that’s our entire supply chain cut off. We'll have the dam and the power station. But with no food or ammunition, we're fucked either way. Gonna have to raid the Biotechnica flats on our way down, I guess. Carry as much as we possibly can in our trucks, and just pray that no one gets any bright ideas to head further south…

  And here I thought I could spend the rest of the War sitting out on that beach and suntanning all day. Instead we’re inside some fucking dilapidated motel called Las Palmas or Palpas or something. Place already took one shell from a speculative artillery bombardment, though nobody would really know it. Pacifica’s a fucking shithole. But it’s also our only lifeline to the city. Fucking hell… That's it. If they get this beachhead, we're done. Hopefully the Iron Hammer gets here before it comes to that… we desperately need their armor.

  –

  Ah, the Afterlife. Place's changed since the last one. Still smells the same, though. Got that rank, stale sweat mixed with strong booze. Love it.

  What a time to be alive. First thing's first - I need a smoke like a hooker needs a coat hanger.

  “Hey, V – wow, uh…” Claire opened her eyes wide and deep, apparently diggin’ the new cut. While I didn’t really mind V’s natural hair, think it’s time she embraced a little somethin’ else. “Hey, you okay? You seem… different.”

  “Hey,” I muttered in return, “Tequila on the rocks. Splash of beer, and a chili garnish.”

  “Oh? She speaks in English, too? And pretty good as well, hah!” Claire laughed, breakin’ out the glasses, “The Johnny Silverhand… Good taste. Haven’t had a customer order one of those in a hot minute.” She handed me the glass, sprinkling a little chili on top with a bit of flourish and pizzazz. I downed the whole thing straight-up, and fuck me… It’s so fuckin’ velvety-smooth.

  “Fuck, it’s good to be back…”

  “Oh?” she raised an eyebrow, getting a new glass, “Never knew you left.”

  “Another,” I quickly demanded, “Please.”

  “You got it.” Claire poured the glass halfway up again, and again it went straight down the gullet.

  “Got any top-shelf shit? Got some money to burn tonight,” I requested, my vision already goin’ a bit loopy. Fuckin’ natural liver and eyes… Not to mention that my arms feel like they’re weighed down by concrete. And what the fuck’s up with her hands… How the fuck’s she even do anything like this…

  “Sure,” she reached up and grabbed a nice bottle of 21st, “Run ya a pretty enny, but I know you’re good for it, hun. Where’d you get the hair done, anyway?”

  “Found a place just down the street,” I told her as I cracked it open and took a nice, long swig. It’s been too long since these lips touched water of this caliber… Well, time to get to work. Heh… “You wouldn’t happen to know a Cassius Ryder, would ya?”

  “Tattoo guy? Yeah, why?”

  “We go back. He still around?”

  “Yeah, got a shop up on Pershing Street, Northside.”

  –

  “Can’t see ‘em yet, Sarge…” Scars muttered, “How many’d you say there were, Oklahoma?” Scars and her stupid nicknames…

  “A hundred – at least,” Okada replied, “How many more RPGs do we have in storage?”

  “Five,” I told him before tucking back in behind the scope, “And just the one launcher. So don’t waste it.”

  “Ehhrm…” Okada whimpered, holding the RPG just above the barricade.

  “Hang on,” I stopped him, “Do me a favor and stand up with that thing. Unless you feel like bashing a live rocket on a piece of concrete.”

  “O-oh… uh…” he stammered, “Sorry.”

  “Oaks, all manner of death’s about to happen in about ten minutes,” Scars retaliated, “So it’d be great if you did us all a favor and not start the party before the guests arrive. Okay?”

  I could see that he was shaking in place, and badly. Poor kid looked like he was about to crap his pants… “Hey,” I stood up, “Hey, put it down.”

  “S-sorry, Ma’am…” Okada whimpered.

  “First time in combat?” I asked him as he gingerly set the launcher down facing towards the enemy. Glad he at least got that part right…

  “Yeah…” he humbly admitted.

  “Alright, well it’s pretty easy,” I growled, “If you see anything flying over that water, you blow it away. Ideally without killing the rest of us in the process.” Dammit, I hate babysitting these greens. All they do in Japan is keep throwing more and more, as if that’s what we’re even asking for. It’d be nice if these bodies came laden with ammunition. But no, all our shit was left on some fucking naval base in San Diego. And they just… never bothered to give us anything new. It’s like they threw a set of car keys down a sewer and just expect us to have to wade through all this shit to get it. And now… now, we can’t even get a fucking airdrop if we wanted to. Last time I checked, we had maybe five thousand rounds of 5.56 in stock, and about half that for the good 7.62 shit. That might last us a day or two at the most if the situation called for it. And it definitely called for it now.

  "You remember our fallback position?" Scars interrupted me.

  "Right side of t-the beach, head up to street level," Okada said through a broken voice.

  "Exactly… Picture it in your head, Oklahoma," she demanded, "Get there, and you just might make it outta this alive."

  –

  “So, what’ll it be? Billy-goat, or the other one?” Ryder grinned, taking a puff of his cigarette ‘fore passin’ it back to me. Dunno what he laced it with, but it’s some good shit.

  “The other one,” I told him with a devilish smile, “She’s gonna love it.”

  “Heh… I’m sure she is…” Guy lost weight since the last time I saw him. Best artist in all of NC, did my ink way back when. Fucker was still in high school, dropped out to become an artist, and I was one of his first canvases. At the time we all thought he was gonna grow up to be some fuckin’ gonk-ass loser, but surprise surprise, he’s got his own place up n’ runnin’. Suck a dick, this is the American Dream right here.

  “So, about that guy you mentioned?” I asked as I took another drag and chased it down with some whiskey. Think it’s ‘bout time for another one of Misty’s little magic pills again. Shit makes me feel like I’m walkin’ on air. God knows why V never tried it. Might loosen up that tight ass of hers for the first time in her life. Heh, wonder what’d fall out. Probably just end up screaming ‘bout some war stories or childhood bullshit. As if that’s a healthy way to cope.

  “Yeah, Jeremiah Grayson,” he said, taking his smoke back and lookin’ over to the computer, “He’s an operator for Smasher. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Hey… who’re you, again?”

  “Yeah… could say we had somethin’ in common, heh…” he chuckled to himself, “Girl named Ruby. Ruby Collins. Grayson’s sloppy seconds. I know, cause I had her first, heheh…”

  “Oh? Sounds like a good time.”

  “Yeah, she’s still workin’. Last time I saw her, anyway. Down at the Riot club, south side.” I know the place… V took a gig there back when, plantin’ a daemon on some suit’s computer. Easy in and out job, took us five minutes on the way to some other shithole. And she was all, ‘Huh, this would’ve been nice if I wasn’t working’ and all that crap. As if anyone’s forcin’ her to avoid fun like the plague ‘sides her own constitution.

  –

  “Fucking hell, Jackie. Fucking major-leagues!” I lashed out at him as I stormed back inside, “You happy now?!” They say that all it takes to bring down a house of cards, no matter how elaborate, how delicately put together, is a little tap in the wrong place. And we built one hell of a house here, and fuck me, was it falling down quickly.

  “Oh yeah, like anyone could’ve guessed that the fuckin’ Emperor would’ve just randomly dropped in for a fuckin’ chat!” I still can’t believe that fucking ASSHOLE Dex didn’t do his homework on this shit. Or at least think to himself, ‘Hmm. There’s an awful lot happening in Watson right now. Maybe I should just take her advice, lay low, and do a bank job like a normal person.’ But noooo, and now we have to find some way out of what is bound to be literally the single most publicized case of domestic dispute-turned-murder since the fucking Romans. Gee! Thanks!

  “God – FUCK!” I screamed out-loud, “What the FUCK!!” I couldn’t fucking believe this shit. This was like something out of a shitty B-movie, o-or a fucking crime novel plot. Anything – anything but real-life. I fought through the WHOLE FUCKING UNIFICATION WAR for it to end like this?!

  “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!” he shouted back at me, “Fuckin’ elevator’s not workin’! We need an alt!”

  “Shit, okay… okay…” I slowed my breathing down a little, “Right, she said something about a ladder… Wait, look there! Outside!”

  “I see it, let’s go!” Jackie exclaimed as we moved to the door – Fucking hell. Yup, no railings… And here we were, 100 stories in the air on a cold, windy, rainy night… T-Bug is dead. Dex is probably gonna die soon. Arasaka-Sama’s dead. Everyone is probably dead, or too busy walking around to realize it. Hell, it astonished me that Jackie and I had made it this far. All this for a fucking biochip. Marvelous. I had no idea how Jackie was going to lug that heavy-ass briefcase down the ladder, but we'll deal with that issue when we get there. First thing we have to do is get there.

  –

  “Mmm…” Ruby moaned while dancin’ her sweet little ass up on that stage, starin’ directly into my eyes. Bitch knew what was good for her. More importantly, her peach was ripe with information, just waitin’ to be picked by a connoisseur. Cassius had good taste.

  I headed over to the bar, gettin’ the street scop outta my way. Shit was more important that whatever problems they’re tryin’ to water down. “Hey! Drinkslinger!”

  Yeah, that’s right. You know what I want. Same shit I’ve been havin’ all night. Wonder what tomorrow’s poison’s gonna be. Rogue knows her shit – I’m sure she’ll sort me the fuck out once I get this info.

  We clinked our glasses together and chugged ‘em, our lips meetin’ with an electricity I hadn’t felt since the good ol’ days. Should write V a thank-you card for takin’ such good care of her body. Broad wasn’t my type, but I gotta admit that years of workin’ a sword does wonders to your core and arms.

  After a little bathroom quickie, she told me she was workin’ a bar later on. Nice enough to invite me down, too. Guess that’s lookin’ good for me. This fuckin’ Grayson bastard seems like the best lead I got so far.

  Could just be another false-flag, but I doubt it. Anyone who survives serving with Smasher oughta know something. ‘Sides, his side chick’s got not just one, but two sets of loose lips. Win-win, if you ask me.

  Course, can’t leave ‘thout toppin’ off my tank. And what better way to do that than with a friendly little competition with some Sixth Street bozos.

  “Chug! Chug! Chug!” they all cheered. Shit tastes like fuckin’ scop trash. The hell’d they give me, fuckin’ diesel fuel? Heh ,wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what gets Smasher wasted. Maybe lace it with some methanol to get ‘im seein’ sounds and hearin’ colors.

  “Ahh, FUCK!” the woman I was competing with shouted as I downed the last of three.

  “Heh, where’s my reward…?” I asked between hiccups in return, promptin’ her to give me a little teaser with a lap dance… Tonight’s gonna be a good night…

  Well, at least ‘til it came time to pay my dues. Man, V’s liver fuckin’ sucks. Whatever goes down comes right back up again, and in record time, at that. Here I thought she wouldn’t be such a lightweight…

  And then there’s this bastard offerin’ me two pills. “Left pill or the right pill?” he asked, showin’ me the goods. A blue and a red.

  Cute… But I knew exactly which one would lead me further down the rabbit hole. Not that there’s much waitin’ for me on the other side, by the look of it. Hell, hardly anything’s actually changed. Still the same old shit, just different clubs with different names, DJs playin’ different tunes, and a fresh coat of paint. Whoopdee-fuckin’ doo.

  “Take this one,” I said, reachin’ out for the red one, “But I got somethin’ better.” Chased that bitch down with a fresh red one of my own. Wonder if Rogue’s back yet… Fuck it. Just gimme another 40. Man, this shit sucks.

  –

  “Listen, Missus Welles–”

  “Please, it’s just Mamá to you, V,” she interrupted me with a smile, “And I insist, it’s okay, you’re a part of this family and that will never change.”

  I stammered over my words, overwhelmed by this woman’s generosity. “I… I know, it’s just–”

  “V, the War’s been hard on all of us… It’s okay.”

  “I… I know.”

  “So what’s wrong, Mija?” she asked me, placing her hand on mine, “Come on, you can tell me.”

  “I know, it’s… I just…” I sighed deeply, finding myself tongue-tied yet again. Great work… “I… I’m going back into service.”

  “Again?” she shouted, “But you already completed two tours!”

  “I know…” I frowned, “I just… I can’t leave…”

  “Here, come here, sit down with me,” she beckoned, leading me by the hand to her favorite booth. I gently placed Shinden next to me as we sat down together, though I still felt thoroughly uncomfortable. I don't know, I - I wish I could just be fucking normal for a change. Actually talk to someone like a normal person. Why am I like this? Was it the War that's been messing with me? Or is it just… me?

  She called over Pepe to bring us some fresh drinks – probably a good thing, considering I’m liable to need a little liquid encouragement.

  “Did you know, V, that Jackie had five siblings die in gang violence?”

  “What, really?” I exclaimed, stunned by that number.

  “Mhm. One of them was adopted, like you. But they all followed their father in his footsteps. Even Jackie, for a time. Raúl had this… charm about him. But he was strict. Tough. Violent… Used to say it was for the good of the family, that it bonded everyone together. And when you’re in your teenage years, you tend to think that you’re invincible…”

  “Heh, yeah, Jackie told me about that,” I smiled slightly, “He mentioned he used to be a Valentino until he got shot.”

  “That’s right…” she nodded, “They all got shot. Or stabbed. Or… worse. Over the most petty things… drugs, girls, money. Most of them were sweet boys. I think they all thought they were playing with toys. It didn’t occur to them that they could die at any moment.”

  “Missus– erm, Mamá… Why are you telling me this?” I finally asked her.

  “Because, Mija… my home has seen its fair share of death. That doesn’t bother me – what bothers me is why they die…” she came closer to me and put her arm around my shoulder, “I love you, just as I love any of my children. But if there’s one thing I learned from raising them, it’s to never question my children’s hopes and dreams. So if you think that going back is something you have to do, something you know in your heart. Then despite everything else, who am I to stop you?”

  –

  “Man, I missed this,” I smiled as the bouncer threw the next punch. Got a few good whacks in there, but V’s gonna be wakin’ up with a missing tooth. Bummer for her, I guess. Eh, she’ll get that fixed, she always does. Went down after two shots – this body’s got oodles of stamina, but can’t take a hit worth a damn. Shame, was hopin’ she’d put up more of a fight… Granted, still haven’t figured out how to fire up these fuckin’ implants in her arms. Oldschool analogue tech, but not exactly intuitive.

  “See ya in a bit,” I motioned to Ruby as I got tossed outta the joint. Least they were kind enough to throw my smokes out with me. Threw down two packs’ worth by the time Ruby finally showed her face.

  “Waitin’ for me?” she smiled as she headed out the door, her perky ass bouncin’ left and right while she walked towards me. Ahh, the thing’s I’m gonna do to find Adam Smasher…

  “Mm…” I grinned, smashing a nearby junker’s window and opening it up, “We’ll head back to my place. Your chariot.”

  Ruby gave me a dirty, feisty look as she climbed in, unlocking the passenger door and firin’ up the shitty old sedan. “Where to, sexy?”

  “Martin Street,” I instructed, “But take the long way.”

  She wasn’t exactly shy ‘bout usin’ that foot of hers, darting around traffic as we headed over the bridge back into Watson, legs spread and waitin’ for an inviting left hand to get adventurous… I’m not about to turn down such an open invitation… "Got a light?" she grinned.

  I cracked open the glovebox, stealin' a pair of aviators and a pack of Reds, handing her a set and lightin' her up. Good fuckin' times.

  Now, back to what we were doing…

  Ruby started moaning and biting her lip all sexy-like, bending me down into her lap– “Oh my God!!”

  I managed to drag her limp ass outta the car ‘fore it went up in flames. Girl was clearly shaken to her core… Fine, let’s just do what needs doin’ and get the fuck outta here… “Listen…” I said as I sat down next to her on the curb, “I need to find Jeremy Grayson.”

  “What… What happened…” she muttered, “Fuck… s-should-should we call the badges, or… uuhnnfff…”

  “Ruby, focus,” I insisted, “Jeremiah Grayson.”

  “J-Jer… who… Oh…”

  “I need to meet with him, you have an address?”

  With a shaky hand, she took out a pen from the busted-up car’s glovebox and wrote down one word on a matchbox: Ebunike. Fuck is that? A street, a guy…?

  –

  “Scream…”

  “No… No, he’s still alive!”

  “Listen, I’m going to need you to stop talking, okay? Your face has been split open–”

  “GOD DAMMIT, I SAID HE NEEDS HELP!”

  “He’s dead– hey, stop it! He’s dead!”

  “WHY AREN’T YOU HELPING HIM?!…”

  –

  “Holy Mary, mother of God…” Rogue stuttered, “I… I wouldn’t have believed it i-if…”

  “Yeah, I’ve been gettin’ that a lot,” I sneered through a fresh cig, “But look, nice as it’d be to catch up on old times, I need your help.”

  “Hah! You need my help?!” she lashed out, “I guess gettin’ blown in half and Soulkilled really does change someone’s personality.”

  “Rogue…” I grinned slyly, “Rogue… You still owe me one.”

  “Like fuck I do! It was your damn idea to bring me along in the first place, Johnny! ‘Sides, the fuck were any of us gonna do against Smasher?”

  “That why you worked with him after the fact?” I said while pinching my tongue with my teeth.

  “What– Wait, how do you know about that?”

  “Because I have eyes and can read,” I sharply retorted, “Need I remind you that this body belongs to a high-level ‘Saka. Should see some of the shit she’s got on her computer.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather not…” she winced back at me.

  “Look, I know you still got some shhkin– shi– skin… Fuck this fuckin’ Japanese bullshit… I know you got some skin in the game for Smasher,” I told her, leaning back and finishing the fifth smoke of this pack, “Which is why I know you’re gonna help me.”

  Rogue sighed and took a swig from the whiskey bottle. “Look, Johnny… I’ve not solo’d in forty years. Look around you – this is my life. Right here. Shaitan, Thompson – fuck, even Spider’ve all moved on. Thompson’s one of the biggest media’s out there. Spider’s a successful author. Shaitan’s… well… he got to Japan and sorta fell off the radar from there. At any rate, kind of a tall order to bring the band back together for the sake of some vendetta, you know.”

  “Nah, not them – just you and me,” I told her directly, “Got a tip from a bimbo named Ruby. A name – Ebunike. Mean anything to you?”

  “Johnny, I– You know what? Because I know I’ll never hear the end of it, fine, let me indulge this fucked up little fantasy of yours…” she said dismissively, taking the matchbox with the name written on it, “Ebunike… Like Mbole Ebunike?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “What, you don’t remember?– Huh?” she glared at me with confusion, “He was… the mayor. When you were alive…?”

  “Shit…” I muttered to myself, “Yeah, memory’s not exactly been my strong-suit, as V pointed out many fuckin’ times… Fuck. You know she actually took me to the 2023 Memorial a couple months back?”

  Rogue laughed and shook her head. “Hah! Would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation… Anyway, Ebunike… Well, I’ll put out some feelers. But news flash: Guy was roasted in the 2023 bomb. Fuck knows his connection with this Ruby chick…”

  “Maybe it’s som’n else, then? A street?”

  “Nah, no such thing as Ebunike Street…” Rogue thought to herself, “Hm… Tell you what. Give you a call if I learn something. Just – for fuck’s sake, put the goddamn smoke out, Johnny. Cause I know that V isn’t consenting to that shit.”

  –

  “Hhhnnnhh…”

  My eyes… My… face… I… what the… what the fuck…

  “Mmmnn… Johnny…”

  I could… could barely feel anything… Anything except this pounding migraine… What the fuck did he do…?

  “Joh–Johnny– G-uh– BWEEHH… E-uuhhn…” I vomited all over the floor… just… just kept… vomiting…

  What in God’s name did he do… I can barely breathe. I can’t think… Can’t function. It feels like a fucking elephant was sat on my chest, or that I was buried alive or something… I gasped for air before coughing up the rest of whatever the hell he forced me to swallow…

  “Welcome back, V,” a voice echoed from the other side of the room, “You’re in a motel in Northside. Intact… mostly.”

  “Rogue…?” I muttered quietly, “What’re… what’re you doing here?”

  “You know, I sensed there was something… familiar about you the second you walked up… He called me early morning. Course, I thought it was some prank caller or whatever the fuck. Then in he comes… there’s no mistaking that mean smirk. That walk, the way he leans over…”

  “Yeah, I bet th–urrgh…” I could barely speak…

  “You don’t remember a thing, do you?”

  “No…” I mumbled, “I took a pill and checked out…”

  “Hmph. Well it’s Sunday. The 29th,” she told me.

  What– the 29th?! I was out for three days?!

  “Can see that wasn’t part of the plan, huh?” she continued, glancing down at me from her chair, “How long’s it been?”

  “Three… days…” I growled…

  “Jesus… Yeah, you and him’ve got some working out to do,” she said in the world’s biggest understatement, “Came in drunk, high, and smoking like a goddamn tire fire. Which I know you don’t smoke.”

  “Figured…”

  “Came in asking about Smasher. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know he was back in NC at all. But after about fifteen minutes, he gives me this matchbox from some stripper, don’t ask me how he got it… had the name ‘Ebunike’ written on it. He claimed someone named Jeremiah Grayson was involved – know anything about this?”

  “No… just… fragments…” I muttered quietly, “Go on.”

  “Johnny found some way to get at him. Part of me didn’t want to believe it at first, but… I think me may be onto something…” she admitted, “Thought about it overnight, watchin’ you. And… Well, we’re gonna get this son of a bitch.”

  “Oh?” I asked as she got up, “What can I do…?” I did still need Smasher’s head on a plate regardless, considering he was standing in between me and Mikoshi, after all.

  “Heh, in your state, right now?” she smiled, sitting down on the bed beside me, “Nothing… But I’ll call you when I have something. Give yourself a day to rest up. I’ll contact you then, see how you’re feelin’.”

  “Okay… thank you…”

  “Mm…” she hummed, bending over and looking straight into my eyes. It was as if she was staring into my soul itself, searching for any latent signs of him… “Unbelievable that bastard is inside that head somewhere…”

  Rogue left me alone to my own devices and I suddenly got hit with another massive wave of nausea… Fucking hell… What… What the fuck…

  “J-Johnny… what did you DO?! E-EEUGH!!” I retched over again as he appeared before me.

  “Hmph…” he grumbled, scratching his fucking balls… what the fuck is with this absolute bastard… First he fucking tricks me. Then he has the gall to act like a fucking prick about it?!

  “Johnny…” I growled at him.

  “Fuck me… Didn’t realize the pills would lay you out like this,” he said half-heartedly, hopping up on the table and resting his head.

  “What– are– are you fucking kidding me?!” I lashed out, trying my best to sit up, “I trusted you! It was supposed to be in and out, have a conversation with Rogue, then be done with it! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!”

  “Christ, V, calm the fuck down, will ya?” he snapped at me, “Now you’re givin’ me a headache–”

  “GOOD! It SHOULD be you getting this fucking headache, not me!” I screamed back, “And you did all of that, for what, a fucking name?! ONE FUCKING NAME?! I could’ve done that myself! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

  Johnny rolled his eyes at me from behind his sunglasses. “Look, if you must know, I had to give Rogue somethin’ real. Not your stupid straight-edge Japanese hoochie-flavored shit. You don’t smoke, you don’t get high, she’d never believe it was me if I’d walked in there–”

  “THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” I quickly interrupted, “You gave me your WORD that you wouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t do. This was never about Rogue or Smasher or anybody else. You could’ve gone in there and name-dropped a bunch of key players and convinced her with facts, but no, you spent three goddamn days in my body FUCKING STRIPPERS AND DOWNING PILLS! Seriously, what the FUCK is your problem?!”

  “Don’t forget the tattoo.”

  “Tattoo?! W-What–” I glanced down at my arm… What in the fuck?! ‘Johnny + V 4 Eva’?! “Johnny… I…” I buried my head in my hand, “I’m just… I can’t…”

  “C’mon, get yourself some air,” he said before disappearing.

  I… I definitely need some air… What in the fuck did he do… Seriously… what the fuck… I can’t believe this… I just… I just can’t… I… I trusted him… Why the hell did I trust him…

  “Welcome to Northside,” he muttered over a cigarette as I left the smelly, dank room and breathed some fresh air, dry-heaving over the side of the balcony, “Home of motels where you can puke on the carpet, no problem.”

  “Yeah, whatever…” I glanced around for a minute before I realized that something was missing from this picture… Something important. “Johnny…?”

  “Hm?”

  “Where’s my car…?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  “Johnny… Where… is my car…”

  “Kidding. Back at the Afterlife. Brought it back. Should be right where you parked it,” he told me semi-sarcastically.

  “Johnny, I swear to God… That was a family heirloom… Miyoko is over a hundred years old. My great-grandfather bought it new after busting his ass at the family farm… Something you have no fucking concept of… God…” I… I was done… I was so done… I broke down in tears on the spot, utterly defeated and just… done.

  “V…”

  “NO! No, Johnny! You do not get to t-talk to me! Not n-now, not EVER! I can’t BELIEVE you’d do this to me! I TRUSTED YOU! You knew exactly how much that car meant to me – God, and Shinden and Izanami are in there, too…! God… WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THIS?! I had to relive so much trauma… and… and horrific images… I thought you wouldn’t… I th-thought… I c-can’t even believe this…” I stormed off, hyperventilating and beating my own head, “You know what?! Don’t even answer any of that because I have had it with your hypocritical bullshit!”

  Johnny reappeared at the railing outside of the motel. “Come on, don’t be such a drama queen–”

  “DON’T YOU DARE…” I barked at him, “Do you understand what you have done?! I was your friend, Johnny. I trusted you… And I just spent days reliving my own personal Hell, and it was all for nothing… Trusting you… trusting you was one of the worst mistakes I ever made…”

  He tried to reply but I just put my hand up in his imaginary face before walking down the street.

  “I should’ve followed my gut instinct… There’s a reason why everyone hates you… And look, if your goal was to keep that streak alive, then congratulations… Consider our friendship over…”

  I had to stop… I had… I had to stop… I can’t do it… I just… I can’t…

  “V…”

  “Just… just leave me alone… please…”

  –

  V collapsed by the roadside and buried her face in her arms, screaming out-loud and hitting herself in the side of the head, as if she was trying to physically beat up Johnny for what he had done to her. Passersby either glared or winced at her, believing her to be a raving mad woman as she slammed her feet into the pavement.

  Soon enough her knuckles turned bloody and stained, as too did the back of her head from pummeling herself into the motel’s wall. Yet she ultimately felt nothing.

  The human body processes both physical and emotional pain with the same mechanism, like a bridge connecting two points. If that point has a traffic jam, caused by some sort of overwhelming sensation – an arm being amputated, a loved one dying – it shuts down. The body grows numb.

  No matter how hard she hit herself, no matter how much blood she drew, she felt nothing.

  Her expression went entirely blank. All she could do was stare at the floor, her mind ceaselessly tormenting and taunting her to throw herself into traffic and just be done with it.

  Minutes went by, then hours, and soon the sun began to set before she finally had the presence of mind to text Rogue about her car. Rogue did indeed confirm that Miyoko was safely back at the Afterlife, bringing her a little comfort – though entirely not enough. For her, it was the principle of Johnny leaving it in the first place. Abusing her word. Treating her body like garbage to be discarded at the curb. She couldn’t bear the pain of being haunted by this man. Knowing that he will take over her body someday, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Knowing that her legacy is ruined, that she will never see Japan again. Never see her family again. Never know the feeling of starting one of her own. All because of him.

  –

  No… No, I can’t… I can’t keep doing this… I can’t… I can’t accept it… I c-can’t accept it… I… I don’t even k-know w-who I am anymore… I’m scared… I’m so scared…

  Mom… I wish you were here…

  Jackie… Jackie, I’m so sorry… I can’t do it… I can’t… It’s too much…

  I feel like I’m on fire… I feel… I don’t know what I feel… I feel so helpless… How could I do this… how could I be so careless… It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. I can’t do this… it’s all my fault…

  I need a hug…

  I can’t go on like this… Please… Please, someone help me… I can feel it… I can feel it burning me… Why won’t anyone help me…?

  Miyoko’s safe… but if… if I couldn’t… I should’ve been there… I should’ve done something… Why didn’t I do anything… What’s wrong with me… I c-can’t feel anything… Dad… Daddy, help me… I’m so scared… Mom, please… I just… I just want it all to be over… please…