Goro Takemura x Reader

Thirty-Four

Tired, you let your head fall against the cars window. Cool glass pressed against your skin while lit up buildings passed by.

Deep rings showed underneath your eyes.

Concerned, Takemura threw a glance over his shoulder to see why you were so entrapped in silence. He wasn't ignorant enough to say that he knew you, though he believed that he had a sense of what you went through.

In the last days he had learned that there were two kinds of silence in which you found yourself time and time again.

One was a comfortable kind, in which you didn't think about anything but just cherished time and the fact that you were alive. Most times it happened when you sat with Ra, tending to her or just relaxing. He had noticed that you had a habit of humming a song, maybe because the cat liked it or because you didn't want to be completely silent.

The other type of silence was a kind that came when one's mind was tortured by thoughts that also put pressure on the heart. It was depressing and most times also filled with sadness.

He knew this silence. Many years of his life had been filled with it. But not since he had known you, so it stuck him particularly hard that you fell into it while he was present.

It was like a katana to his heart, even though that desperation was quite cringy, if he was honest with himself.

"Arasaka-sama.", suddenly his hand caressed your cheek.

Torn from your thoughts, you flinched, and grabbed his hand to make him stop.

"We agreed on (Y/N), Goro.", you reminded him, your voice tired and your eyes heavy.

His hand moved and you let go so that he could retreat. Instead, his fingers wrapped around yours.

"We are in a company car.", he simply said, but made sure to squeeze your hand in a way that said more than thousand words. "You look tired."

A sigh made your chest pull together. Your grip on his hand tightened.

"I am.", you admitted and wiped your face with the other free hand. "I was up all night. Working. My eyes... are killing me."

He smiled softly as you put his hand up to your cheek and nestled into the palm just to feel this cold sting of his metal cyberware.

"Implants would never hurt you.", he said, probably as a joke.

You just huffed, already half asleep again.

"Is that so?", you asked back with a slim smirk.

"Indeed. One of the many things I do not miss is the durability of natural optics. Or rather, their lack of it.", his white gaze fell onto you once more. "I wonder, if you allow me this question. Why did you never get anything done?"

The joy faded from you and for a second the thought occupied your mind if it was wise to tell him the truth. You didn't want to hurt his feelings. But there was no other way of explaining it.

"I had a choice.", you admitted.

"Hm.", his chin rose but it seemed more to adjust his collar to be more comfortable than a sign of hurt. "It is not that choices always come with negatives."

"I know.", you dared to reach out to him and tugged back a strand of his silver hair that blocked his vision. "And I do not see anything negative when I look at you. Chrome doesn't make a human. Just like it doesn't take the human away. It's just flesh. I'm just more comfortable with the clothes nature gave me instead of the ones I would have made for myself."

"Wise words. Perhaps I thought wrong of you.", his head fell slightly to the side, the metal of his jaw bumping into your fingers. "As the youngest, Arasaka-sama always spoke of you like a thing of glass."

You pulled back to leave him alone.

He was dressed in something else than his black modern kimono suit. Instead, he had changed it for simple black dressing pants, a white dressing shirt and some comfortable shoes. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone.

You could catch a glimpse of chest hair that peaked through. Grey.

The modification of his neck did not go deep enough to cover his chest, so you took a guess and assumed that it was to stabilise his spine. Or completely replace it.

Either way it must have been a fatal injury that had earned him these kinds of implants.

"Where are we going, Goro?", you asked after a while. "I want to have fun playing bait."

A low huff made his lips curl upwards.

"This is not a game.", he tried to be the responsible one, although the idea of a little entertainment amused him. "But I agree, it must look natural."

With two fingers he pointed out the window. Your gaze followed the gesture.

The road he drove on was still part of the city Center. Bright lights and billboard full of ads passed by. Below, small figures and faceless silhouettes wandered between high buildings and dirt.

Restaurants passed by, made of glass and the view of the city.

"I want to eat.", you suddenly said.

Surprised, his eyebrows rose.

"Food.", he said as if he has forgotten what that was. "I don't think this place has real food. Japan knows food. This city? Just trash."

His description was pretty accurate. Night City didn't know a lot about quality unless there was money to burn on it. Most people consumed junk food and even the things that street vendors sold was made of heavily processed ingredients.

"I think I know a place.", you said with a soft smile. "Or... a person? I don't know. Someone who makes food. Real food."

His eyes lit up, both curious and relieved that there was something he would be able to enjoy. Just like you, Goro seemed to have a disliking to Night City. He wasn't a man of this place and knew it.

This was just temporary to him.

You were just a temporary face in this temporary city before he'd return to Japan.