Cyberpunk 2077: V

Chapter 60: Coincidences

It was really pouring now. Definitely the rainy season.

The rain splattered against the dirty glass of the rundown café V now found herself sitting in, turning everything into a strange neon kaleidoscope as the droplets reflected the lights from the buildings outside. Inside, old-school yellow bulbs buzzed over her booth, from which V could easily see the entirety of the establishment.

There were only four other people in the café. One was a woman with a dull chrome hand mindlessly slurping on some ramen as she stared at the scratched table under her bowl. Another was an old man with tired eyes reading a physical book, his frail shoulders leaning into the well-worn synth-leather of the chair he was in. Then there was the cashier, a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair and smeared red lipstick.

The fourth person?

James Norton.

V's eyes moved to watch him. He was standing over at the counter, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, talking to the woman at the register. V stared at him, a strange feeling in her chest.

Of all the people in Night City... how the HELL had HE shown up right there in that alleyway? The amount of times they kept running into each other—it just couldn't keep being a coincidence at this point. Was he following her? Tracking her? V didn't think so... she would have noticed. Or would she, in her current state? He was in regular clothes today, no uniform. Had he just been out walking and happened to stumble across her? But what was he doing in Northside?

After a couple of minutes, the older woman handed Norton two mugs of coffee. He said something to her and turned, carefully maneuvering through empty chairs and tables back to their far booth. Without a word, Norton set a chipped yellow mug in front of V before carefully sliding into the seat across from her, his hands rising to cradle his own mug—a dark black one with a crack at the top. V kept her face down, staring at the steam that curled up from coffee so dark it looked like old engine oil. It smelled good though.

Norton blew softly on his own coffee. Took a sip. Set the mug down.

"Rough day?" he asked suddenly.

It was such a blatant understatement V almost laughed. Instead she let out a shallow huff through her nose.

"Yeah..." she whispered.

Norton nodded slowly, then picked up his cup and took another swig.

He didn't say anything else. V felt that he was leaving the silence open for her. She squirmed a little, chewing on her lip as she tried to figure out what to do. She wanted to get up and run out of there in embarrassment at having Norton of all people catch her crying and shivering in an alleyway. She wanted stay quiet and not burden someone she barely knew with the darkness that was trying to eat its way out of her chest.

But deep inside of her, glowing faintly in the icy tar pit of her brain, was a voice. A little voice that told her she was safe. That out of the handful of people that V knew, Norton would understand.

The ache of hurt and loneliness was too much. It decided for her.

Her hands shook slightly as she raised the mug to her lips and drank. The coffee was bitter and slightly burned, but it was warm. And the warmth was a blessing then, as soaked and cold as she was. V saw Norton look up and watch her. Saw his eyes dart over her shaking hand and faint shivering. He suddenly stood and began taking off his leather jacket.

V quickly set her mug down and opened her mouth to protest, but her words faded when she saw tight lines of pain cut through Norton's face as he moved with a rigid, almost robotic stance, slipping the jacket off his shoulders and flipping it around towards her. She let him move forward and gently drape the jacket around her shoulders before turning and carefully sliding back into the booth.