Cyberpunk: Asuka Vektor

The air in Asuka's room was thick with tension. The blue light of the screen flickered, highlighting the serious expression of the news anchor as he relayed the latest update. The voice seemed to echo in the quiet of the room.

"A second NUSA division has been spotted on the outskirts of Night City. In response, the Night City Council, under the persuasion of councilman Lucius Rhyne, has voted to lift the ban on Arasaka forces and invited them to aid in the defense. Arasaka has confirmed the deployment of a supercarrier, which is expected to arrive in three days."

The words "Arasaka" and "supercarrier" seemed to hang in the air like an unwanted storm cloud, casting a shadow over the room. Asuka turned her head to look at Lucy, whose expression had shifted immediately. Her wide eyes locked onto the screen, a haunted look crossing her face, and her breathing started to quicken, the rise and fall of her chest growing more frantic. Her pale hands were visibly trembling as they balled into fists at her sides, her knuckles turning white.

Lucy’s eyes started darting around, as if looking for an escape, but her mind seemed to be spiraling. Asuka knew that look—she had seen it before, in people who had faced the worst of Night City. People with ghosts from their past that threatened to overwhelm them.

Asuka's instincts kicked in. She moved closer, her chrome limbs making a soft sound as she shifted. She placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder, but Lucy didn’t seem to register it—her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, and her gaze was unfocused. The name "Arasaka" had clearly triggered something deep within her, a trauma that was resurfacing with all the weight of a thousand buried nightmares.

"Hey, Lucy," Asuka said softly, her voice a soothing contrast to the noise of the broadcast. "Hey, look at me. Just breathe, okay? You're not alone. You're right here, in my room, not there."

When Lucy didn’t respond, Asuka took a step closer and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Lucy’s body was tense, but Asuka held her firmly, her voice low as she tried to calm her.

“Shh, it’s alright, kid. Just breathe. You’re safe here. Nothing's gonna get to you while I'm around,” Asuka murmured.

Lucy's hands gripped the fabric of Asuka's shirt, her breaths coming out in choked sobs. She was still shaking, but Asuka could feel her gradually relax, her rigid body softening a bit. Asuka moved one hand up to stroke Lucy's back, a comforting rhythm to help guide her back to the present.

“It’s alright. Just focus on me, yeah? Focus on my voice. We’re far away from all that shit, okay?” Asuka kept her voice even, her words calm.

Lucy eventually leaned her head against Asuka’s shoulder, her breath finally beginning to slow down. Asuka held her, letting the silence stretch between them. The news continued to play in the background, but she didn't care about the details anymore—her focus was entirely on the trembling girl in her arms.

She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t ask what Arasaka had done to her, or why Lucy was scared—she knew that kind of thing needed time. Instead, she simply held her, giving Lucy a moment to regain herself. Sometimes the best thing you could do was just be there, without pushing for answers or expecting explanations.

After a while, Lucy's breathing evened out, and her body stopped trembling. She pulled back slightly, her eyes red and watery, but she looked at Asuka with a small, shaky smile of gratitude.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Asuka gave her a gentle smile in return, brushing a few stray strands of white hair away from Lucy's face. “No problem, kid. You don’t need to explain anything to me unless you want to. Just know, you’re not alone now. No corpo, no Arasaka is gonna touch you while I'm around.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes still wide but the fear in them beginning to dull. There was something raw in her expression, a mix of relief and vulnerability that made Asuka's chest tighten.

“Now,” Asuka continued, her tone shifting to something lighter, “why don't we get off this heavy shit? Want to watch something stupid instead? Like those dumb-ass brain dance reality shows where the contestants do all sorts of crazy shit?”

Lucy blinked, and despite the tears still wet on her cheeks, she let out a small laugh. It wasn’t much, but it was something—enough to know that, for the moment, the fear was being pushed away, replaced by something a bit warmer.

“Yeah... that sounds good,” Lucy said softly.

“Alright then,” Asuka said, grabbing the remote and switching the channel. She made sure the news was long gone, replaced by something utterly mindless—neon lights, loud music, people making fools of themselves for entertainment.

She didn’t let go of Lucy, keeping her arm around her as they both settled back, watching the show. As the bright colors and loud voices filled the room, Asuka stayed alert, her gaze flicking over to Lucy now and then, making sure she was okay.

It was late afternoon, the golden sunlight filtering through the cracked blinds of shared apartment. The faint hum of Night City’s chaos echoed through the windows—sirens, chatter, familiar gunshots, and the occasional rumble of vehicles that were more weapon than transport. Sasha had just logged off a deep dive into the net, rubbing her tired eyes as she walked past the armory.

The armory was a section of their apartment that could best be described as “organized chaos”—a collection of weapons, gear, and cyberware parts, all scattered yet seemingly in their rightful place. Amidst the clutter, there stood Asuka, her light-brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail, throwing knives at a target mounted on the opposite wall. She moved with a casual, almost carefree confidence, flipping each knife in her hand before throwing it with precision that landed it just shy of dead center.

“Hey, Asuka,” Sasha called out, stopping at the doorframe, curiosity getting the better of her. “What are you doing?”

Asuka didn’t stop, her focus still on the target as she twirled another knife between her fingers. She gave Sasha a playful grin, her eyes glinting with a familiar mischief. “Practicing my knife throwing,” she replied, her voice casual, “y’know, while doing cool tricks and stuff.”

Sasha stepped into the room, crossing her arms, an amused smile pulling at her lips. “And why exactly are you practicing knife throwing with fancy tricks?” she asked, her tone teasing.

Asuka paused, considering Sasha's question for a moment before giving a shrug. She spun the knife in her hand, balancing it delicately on her index finger before flicking it at the target. It hit with a solid thunk, landing closer to the bullseye. Asuka turned to Sasha, her grin widening. “To look cool,” she said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Sasha let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “To look cool, huh? That's your grand plan?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Asuka walked over to the target, pulling out the knives one by one, her pink chrome arms gleaming in the fading light. “Hell yeah,” she replied, her voice full of that signature confidence. “Look, when you’re on the streets of Night City, half the fight is about actually winning. But the other half?” She gave Sasha a wink, twirling a knife between her fingers before smoothly sheathing it. “It's about looking good while doing it. If you look like a badass, people think twice about messing with you. Plus, it's fun.”

Sasha smirked, leaning against the wall, her eyes watching Asuka as she moved back to her throwing position. “You know, most people would just... I dunno, practice shooting or something.”

Asuka rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Yeah, but anyone can shoot. Knives? They’re personal. Plus, there's just something about throwing a knife and watching it hit right where you want it. Makes me feel like a real ninja, y’know?”

Sasha chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re definitely something, Asuka. A pink, flashy, knife-wielding ninja.”

Asuka laughed at that, throwing another knife with a flourish. “Damn straight, chica. Besides,” she turned, giving Sasha a sly smile, “when you’ve got as much chrome as me, you gotta mix it up. I can’t just be all blades and Sandevistan. Gotta have a little flair, y’know?”

Sasha watched as Asuka threw another knife, this one landing with a satisfying thunk directly in the center of the target. Despite the playful attitude, there was no denying Asuka’s skill—every movement she made was precise, practiced, even if she played it off as just “looking cool.” It was one of the things Sasha had come to respect about Asuka. Beneath the neon colors, the playful bravado, and the constant pursuit of fun, she was deadly serious about her skills. She practiced, she learned, and she improved—not just because she wanted to look cool, but because she wanted to protect the people she cared about.

Sasha smiled, shaking her head as she pushed off the wall. “Well, keep practicing, then. Who knows—maybe one day, knife tricks will save our asses.”

Asuka grinned, giving her a mock salute before twirling another knife in her hand. “You know it, Sasha. When that day comes, you’ll be glad I spent all this time making it look good.”

Sasha gave her a nod, a small smile playing on her lips as she turned to leave the room. “Just don’t end up accidentally stabbing yourself, okay?”

“Never!” Asuka called after her, her laughter echoing down the hallway.

The sky over Night City was a piercing blue, marred only by the imposing silhouette of the Arasaka supercarrier slowly making its way into Del Coronado Bay. Its sheer size was enough to cast shadows over parts of the coastline, a testament to the power Arasaka held, even in its exile. The huge vessel bristled with weaponry.

Three days had passed since the news of the NUSA Army division halting their advance toward Night City had spread, and the tension in the streets was palpable. People moved through the streets cautiously, not quite trusting that the danger had passed. Even with the supposed retreat, the parts of Pacifica still occupied by the rogue detachment of NUSA forces added a layer of unpredictability.

Asuka, Jackie, and Sasha stood on a ledge overlooking the bay. Pink Kitty was parked nearby.

Jackie had a cigarette dangling from his lips, squinting at the massive supercarrier as Sasha leaned beside him, her eyes flickering with data as her optics scanned the colossal machine.

“Man, look at that thing,” Jackie murmured, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “It's like they brought a whole chunk of Japan with them. And to think, all this just to stop NUSA from rolling in. Makes you wonder what the council really promised 'em.”

Sasha nodded, her voice calm but clearly concerned. “It’s not just that, Jackie. The way the NUSA was pulling out... the whole thing stinks of some backroom deals. And Pacifica, those guys aren’t budging. They're not following orders. Whatever’s going on there, it's far from over.”

Asuka, standing a little ways away, stared at the supercarrier with a different look in her eyes. She wasn’t focused on its military might or what it meant for Night City’s safety—she was thinking of Hanako. The woman’s elegant demeanor, the way she effortlessly balanced sophistication and danger, had Asuka hooked. That Hanako was a major player in all of this, sitting at the heart of a corporation powerful enough to stare down an entire army... it made Asuka’s head spin. There was something intoxicating about being so closely entangled with someone who had the kind of influence that could alter the fate of a city overnight.

“Oi, Pink Pillow, you with us?” Jackie’s voice broke through her thoughts, and Asuka blinked, looking over to where he was giving her a questioning look, the nickname drawing a small groan from her lips.