Goro Takemura x Reader

Thirty

It was already late at night when Takemura carried you back into the lobby of Konpeki Plaza. As by fate, Yorinobu was just about to leave as he caught a glimpse of your body in his arms.

"(Y/N)!", he almost stumbled as he rushed to grab your face.

Startled, your blinked a few times before your brain managed to fully grasp the situation.

"Niisan.", you smiled at him, your eyes covered by dark circles. "I wanted to talk to you."

With a concerned look on his face Yorinobu's wiped the sweat off your forehead with his sleeve.

"You're burning hot.", he gifted Takemura a glance from the corner of his eyes that was more than just judgement. "Didn't Hanako tell you you needed to rest?"

With a chuckle, you grabbed his hand so that he would settle down. As you did so, you slipped him the relic without anyone noticing.

Thankfully, Yorinobu wasn't dull. Sucking in a sharp breath, he closed his fist around it and straightened his back to meet Takemura in a higher position.

"What are you doing?", he pressed out between clenched teeth. "The sick must rest. Don't stand here. You know where the room is. Go."

For a long moment Takemura just stared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowed. It was more than obvious how much he would have liked to say something that wouldn't come from his polite side.

But he restrained himself, just nodded his head and walked past the Arasaka heir.

You stretched your neck to exchange one last look with him before it was too late.

Meet me at my room later this night, that was what your eyes told him. He understood, nodded and pretended like nothing had happened before he turned on his heel and went about his day.

"You should stay away from him for a while.", Takemura said into the silence of the elevator.

Confused, you frowned but were too tired to question why he had such a disliking to him. It was obvious, to him, Yorinobu was a traitor to the family he served. Of course, after all, he didn't know the truth.

And he'd never know. Unless you told him.

No, you thought to yourself. Not yet. Maybe never.

Why would you?

This feeling that the sight of his face caused in your chest was nothing but attraction. It wasn't love and if it was, you just loved him for the things he had done for you as a child.

He was but an idol from the past.

"Yes...", it slipped of your heavy lips. "It must be this way..."

Struck by the sudden sound of your voice, he glanced down on you. For a moment his gaze wandered over your face, covered in sweat, your forehead obviously glowing with heat.

"(Y/N).", he was still hesitant when addressing you with your first name but with each time it grew on him and he said it more confidently. "You are sick. Perhaps it is best to stay in bed for now."

The sound of the elevator doors opening filled your ears. You wanted to complain but all that managed to escape your mouth were short chopped breaths.

Your eyes wandered through the room.

It was so cold in there although the average temperature was 23 degrees Celsius.

In your confused state of mind you tried to call out for Ra. Next thing you noticed was how soft pillows wrapped around your head and a blanket was pulled from beneath your feet.

It lay on you like a layer of feathers, soft and yet so light that it could have been carried away by the wind.

"Goro.", you grabbed his hand as he wanted to turn away.

He stopped, his eyes lingering on your face. Then, without a word, he leaned over you to gently push strands of hair out of your face that were stuck to your skin.

It was such a gentle gesture that it made your heart beat faster for a second. You felt like the heat inside your head only burned more.

"Don't worry.", he breathed and pulled away again. "I will just get us some tea."

Your fingers flinched and within the next breath they wrapped around his hand. You wanted to hold him for just a little longer. You wanted to feel the contrast of cold metal on your burning face and be at ease.

He allowed you to hold his hand a little longer while a sore expression was on his face. You didn't want to compare it to the look that you knew from Yorinobu or Hanako, because it wasn't the same.

It was something loving, yes but not a kind of love that came from a father or siblings. It was different.

You just didn't dare say it out loud.

Finally, he pulled his hand away. It left a feeling of something cold, empty. Like a loss that you desperately wanted to regain.

Your eyes fell shut, all you could was listen how his steps faded away. The elevator opened once more, shut again.

And then he was gone.

Silence spread in your room. It was warm and cozy.

Your limbs felt weak, heavy even, as if a kind of weight pushed down on you. Soft fabric wrapped around your skin.

Beads of sweat rolled down your face. If you got sick now it would only postpone the duty that you were betrothed with. It was neither a good nor a bad thing.

It meant more time for you to flesh out your plan. But it would also strain your fathers patience even more than it already was.

It was a play with fire.

All of a sudden something heavy jumped onto your bed. Paws walked all over you, sturdy, with a mission. Purring filled your ears as small hair brushed over your glowing skin.

"Ra...", you whispered with a smile and raised your hand to find your cats head in the dark to scratch it.

A soft meow made you open your eyes a crack wide. She didn't know anything but the cramped skies of Night City. This apartment was all she had ever known.

Would she like Japan?