Mamá invited myself and Vik over for an ofrenda this afternoon, along with many of Jackie’s other friends… Obviously I accepted. But I felt a pang of guilt at just how numb I was.

  I never felt like this before. I’d lost people under my command, people whom I’ve known intimately for months, over a year, longer… I wept over their passing. Yet now… now I felt nothing. Just numb. As if none of this was real. As if Jackie's about to come drop in shortly. Part of me wondered if that bullet damaged something inside of me, something that prevented me from crying. From screaming.

  Instead, all I felt was cold. A cold, lifeless void in my chest. It’s as if the world had gone from being a living, breathing thing to being an object of concrete and stone. Unfeeling, uncaring, unsympathetic, and thoroughly unfair. Normally I was fine with that. Much of my life was spent in the ever present fears of battle, and the damage that came after the fact. But this felt like a battle I couldn’t win. Like the more I fought, the more I’d lose… It’s as if the universe itself was laughing at my misfortune. I couldn’t even find the energy to take my clothes off in the shower. I just sat underneath the faucet, drenched in water but not really caring if it even cleaned me… What’s the point, anyway…

  Whatever, I doubt anyone will really care how messy my hair is. First stop was to pick up Vik, but not before he said he’d do the rest of my skin grafts. My eye pigmentation’s starting to return, but it’s a case of slow and steady winning the race. And I still needed a host of other procedures in the meantime, not the least of which is to check my body for lead poisoning and any other foreign contaminants. But Vik is thorough; I’m sure he’ll have good news. Let’s just put on my funeral kimono, take the blue pill, and head out while I still have any semblance of motivation.

  –

  “Vik…”

  “Heya, kid. How’re you feelin’?” Viktor said as I walked in.

  “I’m not in a wheelchair… heh. Guess that’s a start, right?”

  “Mm, see you still got that sense of humor, huh?” he motioned me to the table, “Here, why don’tcha siddown? You look good, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Mamá said it was more casual, no black-tie or anything. But I still felt it somewhat appropriate to… well…”

  “Wear something more traditional?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, I get that. Gonna put on a suit once we’re done,” he nodded, “You can hang it up over there. Gotta finish with your body first, check on those implants of yours.”

  “Oh? Not my head?” I asked as I started disrobing.

  “Unlike your head, your implants won’t heal on their own… that’s my job,” he replied with a hint of humor of his own to help lighten the mood a little more, “Looks like your eye’s healing up nicely, though. Gettin’ a bit of blue back in there.”

  “It’d be nice to not have to wear sunglasses for the rest of my life, eh?” I thumbed at Vik’s glasses before looking over for Jackie’s… Jackie’s approval…

  “Hmm?” Vik looked behind him, “Ah… That Johnny?”

  “No… no, I took my meds this morning. Just… just wish Jackie was…”

  “Yeah… me, too,” he let out a deep sigh, “Hmph. Gonna have to get new cables into your arms and shoulders. Took a few too many knocks. Left microrotor’s shot, but that’s fine, already got the replacements for all that.”

  “Ordered ahead?”

  “Heh, with you, I like to keep extra stock in the back, more like.”

  “Touché.”

  “Anyway, lights-out for now. Shouldn’t be more’n a few hours.”

  –

  Vik and I both got dressed for the ofrenda, with the ripperdoc collecting a pair of old boxing gloves as his donation. I didn’t really have anything, admittedly. Nothing of mine could hope to match the contribution that man made to my life. Though I suppose it’s more symbolic than anything… I guess I’ll figure it out when I get there.

  “Should get some smokes on the way,” Johnny suddenly appeared, startling me, “Know this good food joint, too.”

  “Johnny, I swear…”

  “What? You said when it’s over. We’re not in the dump anymore, so–”

  “We’re going to Jackie’s funeral whether you want to or not,” I grumbled, “So shut up and leave me alone.” I downed another pill, my third today, dissipating his engram as I walked through it to the car.

  “That Johnny?” Vik asked me.

  “Yeah… he’s a… well… Let’s just get this done, okay?”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I doubt that I’ve detested anyone more in my life, Vik,” I shook my head and frowned, “Just… Why’d it have to be me… What did I do…”

  “Take it you believe in karma?” he said as he slotted into the passenger seat. I combed my upper lip with my teeth as I got in, starting her up and getting on the road without wasting another second. My mind, though - that was another story. I could barely manage a single coherent thought, let alone form full sentences.

  “Karma… yeah, I’d say so,” I shrugged as I put it in third, “We believe in kami. There’s no specific translation, it’s more an idea… divine, spirits, gods, that sort of thing. Every object, person, place, even events and phenomena – they can all have kami. Angering these spirits or disrespecting them invites trouble into a person’s life.”

  “And if you appease them, they’ll treat you well, by extension?”

  “Well, to a point…” I pondered, “Kami are considered divine beings, but beings all the same. They have their own thoughts, wants, and needs. Take my sword, for instance. Most samurai heirloom katana are said to contain their own kami, named after the katana itself. In my sword’s case, its kami is Shinden, meaning ‘Magnificent Lightning.’ It’s my job as an owner to care for the kami as well as the sword itself, which often but not entirely overlaps.”

  “Oh? How’s it not overlap?” Vik asked me.

  “Well, Shinden is a proud, vicarious spirit that deeply enjoys the thrill of battle. But it's still a 500-odd year old weapon. It's been heavily modified, but I'd be remiss if I didn't take care of it."

  "Of course," he nodded in agreement, "But how do you take care of it if you're bringing it into situations like that all the time?"

  I could visibly see the perplexion creeping into his brain through my newfound peripheral vision. "Okay, to put it another way, my sword's kami is an integral part of the whole thing. It's like, um - you ever have a job that isn't physically demanding, but it drains you emotionally? That's your kami. And by bringing my sword with me, I keep it from getting, well, it's own version of that… I-I'm sorry, I know this makes little sense to you."

  “It's okay, V. And your car? That have its own kami?” he asked, seemingly quite interested.

  “It does, actually. Miyoko. Means ‘Beautiful, Cost, Child.’ My great-grandfather purchased it brand-new in 1970, his first car… And, well, we just kept it in the family all these years.”

  “Sounds like quite the sentimental society over there, huh?”

  “Indeed,” I nodded as I thought back to seeing this car in the garage… To the first time I drove it… the first time Jackie drove it…

  I get what Vik’s trying to do, just distract me. Maybe distract himself, too. And I appreciated it, truly – I think I needed the conversation. Especially as we headed into the City Center.

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  And to think that I used to work here, in the City Center… Now it feels just as foreign to me as the day I first arrived in Night City. I still remember seeing it on the horizon on that cold, dark night. It looked like a shining jewel, like the diamond in the world’s wedding ring. I can see the allure of the place, at least from afar. It truly was beautiful, in its own way… I never really appreciated it for that once the fighting started. But now that I had a chance to think… I just wish Jackie was the one sitting next to me. Nothing wrong with Vik, of course. But Jackie and I went everywhere together… Never the black, imposing building I worked at, however.

  I miss him so much…

  The City Center teemed with life at this hour, with most buildings letting workers out on lunch breaks around now. Admittedly part of me does miss all this. The bustle and constant, droning noise. It almost felt like I was inside of a massive machine. Or, perhaps, a body, with every street and sidewalk carrying workers like blood. I still remember the first time I joined their ranks. I actively tried to merge myself with large groups, pretending I was part of some grand symphony. It was so romantic, in its own way. I felt like I was on-stage on some great ongoing play. Yet it was also quite isolating, as no matter how many people I surrounded myself with, I was always lonely. Never alone, but still quite lonely.

  Stuck in traffic, I peered over Vik’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of the Arasaka Tower. Still couldn’t believe that I worked there, yet now it feels so utterly oppressive. It seems to grow taller every single time I’ve driven by it after the incident. A constant reminder of what Jackie said. You can take the rat outta the corpo…

  I always wondered what this place looked like during the Time of the Red. It's amazing to think that all of Downtown was effectively leveled by the nuke, reduced to smoldering ruins for decades. I've seen old maps of the city before; there's nothing left but a hole, as if someone forgot to add it in or something. Jackie told me all about the projects back in the day, used to say that I was the family "hero" for working here. Gods, it makes me feel so guilty that I never really had the time or energy for those chats… I would give it all up for one more conversation like that with him. Just us eating some shitty scop food and shooting the shit about what it was like growing up in Heywood… I miss seeing him smile…

  Oh, Heywood… my old stomping ground when I first got here… I have a lot of memories walking these streets with Jack. The man lumbered his way around with his arms sorta flailing around a lot, always had this funny way of walking. I joked with him, saying that he was just too much of a beefcake to put his arms down all the way…

  Funny, this place lived perpetually in the shadow of Corpo Plaza. Yet it couldn't be more different when viewed microscopically like this. It was teeming with history, though; back in the day, this place was originally known as South Night City before refugees from the Fourth Corporate War flooded the city. They mainly formed the poorer districts of Santo Domingo, while here, across the river, it's what I'd call mid-upper class. Course, being home to the Valentinos, it was hardly safe for outsiders, but less of a problem for regulars like me. Certainly not with Jackie at my back. It just always felt more… real to me, as opposed to the cold carelessness of Corpo Plaza.

  “I see not much has really changed here,” I noted as I looked around the neighborhood. Tons of graffiti everywhere, plenty of bars, but also some amazing restaurants and down-to-Earth people. This was by far one of the best places to get good food in Night City. Jackie used to tell me he wanted to open a Heywood bar in another city, bringing the flavors to other parts of the world…

  I wonder what kind of bar it would’ve been. Probably themed around cars and motorcycles, knowing him. And a healthy dose of skulls and crucifixes. He was always fairly one-note… But that’s one of the reasons why I found him so endearing.

  “You okay?” Vik asked me nervously as I parked the car a block away from El Coyote Cojo.

  “Vik… I…”

  “Alright, dumb question,” he frowned, “V, you just lost your brother… Give yourself time to grieve.”

  “That’s just it, though, I don’t have time, do I?” I lashed out at him, “I mean, if all I have is a month at most… Like… I’ve already had one panic attack last night because I thought to myself that I shouldn’t waste a single day.” I let that simmer, taking a pause before slamming my fist down on the steering wheel. I felt so embarrassed… losing my temper at my friend… All he wanted to do was help…

  Vik glanced down at my car's glove compartment while thumbing the boxing gloves he wanted to offer. “But you haven't wasted a single day, have you? You found Jackie, remember? You’re here. And you know in your heart that he’s a man worth remembering.”

  “I… guess… I’m… I…”

  “Come on, kid. Let’s go see your mother.”

  “Yeah…” I gingerly opened the door, “Oh, lock the passenger side, if you don’t mind… No power locks.”

  “Sure,” Vik said courteously, hitting the button down as he shut the door, “It’ll be okay. I got a good feelin’ about it.”

  “I hope so, Vik…” I couldn’t smile, couldn’t frown… I just blankly stared at the ground in front of me, utterly defeated. I fitted my kanzashi onto my head but couldn’t will myself to move.

  “Here, lemme help ya,” Vik offered a hand, gently pushing me towards the bar.

  I walked like I was treading on flowers. The closer I got to the bar, the less grounded in reality I felt. I still had a hard time believing any of this was actually happening… I never fully grasped that I’d actually have to go on without my best friend, my brother…

  “You need me to come in with you?” Vik asked me in a caring tone.

  “No… no, thanks. I think I’m good.”

  “Alright. Then tell ya what. I’mma go walk around the block a few times. Walk in later, okay?”

  “You don’t have to, Vik…”

  “Nonsense. Go have a moment with your mother,” he insisted.

  Right… here goes nothing…

  “Mamá…?” I whimpered as I walked in through the front door, “Mamá… I’m here…”

  “Mija!” she yelled from across the room, immediately interrupting the people she was likely discussing plans with and rushing over to me. “Mija…”

  “Mamá…” I couldn’t help myself any longer… “Mamá… I… I can’t…” I collapsed onto the floor, all the pain hitting me like a bus… my kanzashi fell in my face and I practically ripped it off my head from the sheer, unbridled horror of the moment…

  She has his eyes… I never noticed… those same bluish-green eyes… “Mamá… I’m… I’m so…” I… I can't…

  “Mija…” she spoke softly to me, “Hey… Look at me…”

  I couldn’t bear to raise my chin to face her… I was so embarrassed…

  “Come here… Hey…” I could hear her voice tremble… “I’m so sorry…”

  My face might as well have been melting from the amount of tears and drool pouring down, ruining my kimono… “I ca–can’t–” I… I can’t breathe… “I di–didn’t… didn’t… I…”

  “Easy… You’re hyperventilating… Breathe… Here, let’s put this back on…” she gingerly picked up the kanzashi and carefully threaded it into my hair. How was she so sweet, even now…

  “Mamá… I–I–couldn’t– I couldn’t be– be there for him…” I beat the floor down with my fist, “I couldn’t– I tried… And I couldn’t… I’m so– I’m so… so sorry… Mamá…”

  “Stop, Mija,” she grabbed me by my cheeks, lifting up my face as tears streamed down it. I couldn’t… My nose was clogged… couldn’t breathe… Jackie… please…

  “J–Jackie… Mamá… I couldn’t–”

  “It’s okay… It’s not your fault…”

  “Ma–Mamá…”

  “It’s not your fault, Mija…” she gently reached for my biceps and slowly pulled me to my feet. I could barely stand… I was shaking like a leaf in a typhoon… Jackie… “Look at me, V…”

  I slowly raised my gaze to meet hers, her bushy gray hair framing her swollen face and bloodshot, tear-ridden eyes… “Mamá… I… I…”

  “V… It’s not your fault. Okay?”

  “It was… if only… if on–only–”

  “Listen to me… Are you listening, Mija?”

  “M–Mamá…”

  “I know that you have done everything you can… everything… I don’t– I don’t know what happened there. But I know that you would never let harm come to Jacquito if you could help it…”

  “I– I tried… I tried so hard… And I co–couldn’t…”

  “It’s okay… Come here…” she reached out and embraced me… guided me to her shoulder…

  “Jackie… Ja–JACKIE!!” I screamed, tears flowing like water as I gripped her and pulled her close, “I’m so so–o–rrry… Mamá…”

  “I know, Mija…” she sighed, tucking my head into her with her hands, “I know…”

  “Mamá… I’m so sca–ared… I can’t– can’t do this… without him…”

  “It’s okay, Mija…” she tried to reassure me, “I’m so sorry…”

  “Mamá…” I lifted my head slightly, “I’m sorry… I couldn’t… your son… Jackie… I couldn’t… Why am I such… such a mess…"

  She gently pulled me away and looked straight at me. My eyes darted every which way, my face red and swelled with tears and humiliation… "Because he was your brother, Mija. That's why…"

  "Hah…" I cracked a broken, shuddering smile, "I thought… I thought I was coming here to help you out… Mamá… Why… say sorry to me?”

  Her lips trembled as she spoke, her eyes closing… I could tell she was in agony… and I felt like a terrible person for not being able to help… “Because it's still my job to take care of my daughter… I didn't stop being a mother just because of a terrible tragedy… If my child needs me, I will do everything to be there for them…”

  Funny… it took me so long to accept that I was part of this family… in some ways I still don't. Yet she was there for me, without question… I didn't know what to say… “Jackie…” I whispered, raking my lips to the point of tasting blood.

  “We both loved him… more than life itself. Thank you… for bringing my son home.”

  “Mamá…!” I launched myself back into her shoulder, sobbing until I felt like there was nothing left… until the new skin on my face felt like it was on fire…

  “Come here… Let’s have a drink…” she offered once I’d finally settled down a few minutes later. We both slowly walked over to a table with some tequila laid out already, with me barely able to keep my head up as I sat down. “The key to Jacquito’s garage,” she nodded as she gently placed his house key on the table, “I want you to have it.”

  “W-what?”

  “It’s okay… Feel like you spent more nights there than in your own place, back in the day…”

  “Are you sure?” I hadn’t been in his garage in years… figured it was just his secret spot…

  “Mhm. If you want… use it as an opportunity to look for something for his ofrenda. If not, well… Whatever’s his, is yours now.”

  I took a swig of the tequila and inspected the key… It’s been a while, that’s for sure… “Are you sure?” I repeated the question just to really make certain.

  “I told you, he was your brother, mija… besides, I know you’ll treat it with respect.”

  “Thanks… Mamá…”

  “Of course… Ofrenda’s at 6, so you'll have plenty of time to prepare,” she smiled and gave me one last hug, “Now go, let us get ready in here.”

  I gently nodded and headed outside around the back of El Coyote Cojo. His garage sat within the row of storage units lined up back here, typically populated by a host of Valentinos. Today, however… Not a single person. No one… except Misty.