NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 70
As the flames crackled and licked at the charred remains of Pink Kitty, their crew's once heavily armored pride and joy, Asuka and Sasha stood in silence in the Badlands, the desert winds carrying the scent of smoke and burnt rubber. The heat of the fire was almost unbearable, but it wasn’t the worst part. It was the heavy, palpable tension between them that truly made the air thick.
Sasha’s voice broke the silence, her tone sharp, dripping with frustration. She turned to Asuka, her expression hardened by anger and disappointment. “You know, I fucking told you this was a bad idea,” Sasha snapped, her eyes narrowing at Asuka. She crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently as she continued. “We shouldn’t have taken this job. But no, you said it’d be easy. ‘We already destroyed two Basilisks, what’s one more? We can do it just the two of us!’” she mocked, her voice mimicking Asuka’s with a sneer.
Asuka stood there, her jaw clenched, her gaze fixed on the burning wreckage of Pink Kitty, her chest tightening with every word that came out of Sasha’s mouth. She could hear the anger, the disappointment, the blame. It cut deeper than she expected—each word was like a slap, and it left her feeling raw, exposed in a way she hadn’t felt before.
Sasha kept going, her voice growing louder, harsher, her emotions spilling out unchecked. “You know who’s going to be fucking heartbroken? Jackie. He loved this thing more than any of us. You think he’s gonna take it well, coming back from Mexico and seeing just scrap metal?” She gestured towards the wreckage, her eyes glaring daggers at Asuka. “This is all because you had to push it, had to be the hotshot, just had to prove something.”
Asuka felt a lump form in her throat. She was used to being the confident one, the one people looked up to. But this—this wasn’t something she was prepared for. The words hurt, and worse, they rang true. She’d pushed too hard, been reckless, and now the consequence was right in front of her, flaming and irreplaceable. Jackie’s pride and joy, destroyed because of her impulsiveness. Her father's voice never spoke to her like this; he had always doted on her, indulging her every whim. And in Heywood, no one dared to criticize her, not with Vik, Mama Welles and Padre behind her. She’d never really been scolded like this—not like this, where she couldn’t brush it off or laugh it away.
Her breathing grew rapid, her hands clenched at her sides, as negative emotions bubbled up—anger, guilt, frustration. She could feel it twisting inside her, and for a brief, terrifying moment, her mind flashed to something dark. She just wanted Sasha to stop talking, to stop the scolding, to stop making her feel this way. The thought—just put a bullet in Sasha’s head, end the noise—slipped into her mind unbidden, almost instinctively, and her hand moved toward her Malorian.
Asuka’s eyes widened, horrified at herself, her breath catching as she took an instinctive step back. She looked at Sasha, who was still speaking, still venting her anger, completely unaware of the dark thoughts that had crossed Asuka's mind. Panic flared in Asuka's chest, the heat of the fire now unbearable, and without a word, she turned and ran.
She ran as fast as her chrome legs could take her, away from the fire, from the rage directed at someone she cares about, from the thoughts that scared her more than anything else. She could feel tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She didn’t look back at Sasha, didn’t even give her a second thought as she sprinted across the desert sand, her heart pounding.
She ran for hundreds of meters, the wind whipping against her face, the Badlands stretching endlessly around her. She finally came to a stop, breathing heavily, tears streaking down her face as she tried to pull herself together. She couldn't believe what she had thought back there—how easily her mind had gone to violence, to hurting someone she cared about and even have murderous intent.
Taking a shaky breath, she pulled up her HUD, her hand trembling as she navigated to her contacts. She selected her father’s number, and after a few rings, Vik’s familiar, warm voice answered.
“Asuka? Kid, what’s going on?” Vik's voice held a hint of concern, but mostly the calm reassurance she was used to.
Asuka sniffed, trying to steady her voice as she spoke. “Dad... can you send someone with two cars? We’re in the Badlands, near the old scrapyard.”
There was a pause, and Asuka could hear the concern deepen in Viktor’s voice. “You okay, Asuka? What happened?”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I’m... fine, just... just need the cars, please. I can explain later.”
Vik hesitated for a moment before responding. “Alright, kid. I’ll send them out. You stay safe, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks, Dad.” Asuka ended the call, her hand dropping to her side as she looked out at the empty horizon, her tears slowly stopping. She wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath. She didn’t know how she’d face Sasha, or Jackie, when he came back.
Back near the burning remains of Pink Kitty, Sasha stood still, her arms still crossed, her own heart pounding with the lingering frustration of the argument. She watched Asuka run off, her expression softening as she let out a sigh. She knew she’d been harsh, but she hadn’t realized just how deeply her words would affect Asuka. Watching her run, Sasha decided to give her space. Maybe she needed to be alone, to process.
Asuka and Sasha drove in separate cars, each lost in their own thoughts. When they arrived back in Night City, Sasha returned to the apartment she shared with Asuka and Lucy. She was greeted by Lucy's concerned face at the door.
"Where's Asuka?" Lucy asked, her eyes darting behind Sasha, expecting to see Asuka following.
Sasha sighed, running a hand through her hair, her expression softening. "She went to Vik's place. She needs some time alone, you know?" There was a note of regret in her voice, and Lucy could sense it immediately. Without pressing for details, she nodded, her worry clear.
Meanwhile, Asuka found herself standing in front of her father’s apartment. She felt drained—physically, mentally, and emotionally. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time, and the only person she could think of who might help her feel like herself again was her dad. The door opened, and there stood Viktor, his concerned eyes softening the moment he saw her tear-streaked face.
“Kid...” he said, his voice full of warmth as he opened his arms wide. Without hesitation, Asuka stepped into his embrace, her face pressing against his chest. She clung to him tightly, her tears finally spilling out, the stress of everything that had happened over the past few days pouring out of her. She hadn't cried like this in years, not since her chrome limbs had replaced what she lost to the scavs.
Vik held her on the couch, his large hand rubbing slow circles on her back, his eyes full of concern as he looked at his daughter. He had always been there for her, but seeing her cry like this... it broke something in him. Even when she’d been in the hospital, after losing her arms and legs, she hadn't cried. She'd been so strong—too strong, perhaps, for her own good. And now, seeing her let it all out, he knew whatever had happened had pushed her beyond her limits.
“Shh, it’s okay, kiddo. You’re safe now,” Vik murmured, his voice soft, soothing as he held her close, letting her cry as long as she needed to. He rocked her gently, the way he had when she was little and would come to him after having a nightmare.
After some time, when Asuka’s sobs had turned into soft sniffles, Vik pulled back a bit, looking at her tear-streaked face. He gave her a gentle smile, brushing a few stray locks of hair from her eyes. “Hey, how about this—you wanna try on some of your mom’s old clothes again? You used to love doing that when you were upset.”
Asuka sniffled, blinking as she looked up at her dad. She remembered those times, how comforting it had been to wrap herself in her mother’s old clothes, to feel a little closer to the mother she’d never gotten the chance to know. Her eyes softened, and she nodded. “Yeah... yeah, I’d like that, Dad,” she whispered, her voice still shaky.
Vik smiled, standing up and helping Asuka to her feet. He led her to the room he had always set up in each of their apartments—a room that was entirely for her mother’s things. It wasn’t the original room, but every time they moved, Vik made sure to recreate it, to keep that part of her mother’s memory alive. It was filled with her mother’s clothes, accessories, and other little trinkets—all neatly organized.
Asuka stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room. She smiled softly, her heart warming a bit as she looked at the clothes, her fingers brushing over the fabrics. They were all traditional Japanese attire—kimonos, yukatas, and other elegant garments. And all of them, in some way or another, featured pink—a color her mother had clearly loved, a color that had somehow become an unspoken bond between them, even though they’d never met.
Slowly, she picked out a pink and white yukata, holding it up in front of her. She laughed a little, shaking her head. When she was little, these clothes had practically swallowed her whole. She remembered standing in front of the mirror, the sleeves hanging past her arms, the fabric loose and billowing around her small frame. Now, as she slipped the yukata on, she looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't help but let out a soft laugh—only this time, it was different. The yukata was tight across her chest and hips, her curves filling out the fabric in ways it wasn’t originally designed for.
She looked at herself, her tear-streaked face now carrying a faint smile. She twirled a bit, watching the fabric stretch and fold, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of sadness and nostalgia. For a moment, she felt a little closer to her mother, like she could almost feel her presence there, wrapping her in warmth. It was a small comfort, but it was enough.
Vik just come to the doorway, watching his daughter, his eyes soft, a hint of pride there as he saw her find some solace. He knew he couldn’t fix everything that had happened to her, couldn’t shield her from the darkness of the world she lived in. But he could still be there for her, still make sure she knew she had a place where she could always find comfort and love.
“You look beautiful, kiddo,” he said, his voice gentle. Asuka turned to him, her eyes meeting his, her smile widening just a bit.
“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, her voice steadying, her heart feeling just a little bit lighter.
After a few days of taking a break, staying at her father's place or hanging out quietly with Misty or Judy, Asuka finally felt ready to face Sasha. They met at the apartment, the tension still lingering slightly between them, though time had softened it.
Asuka took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Sasha’s. “Hey, I just wanted to say I’m sorry... for being childish and impulsive. I messed up, and I know it.”
Sasha looked at her, her expression softening, and she nodded. “Yeah, and I’m sorry too. I shouldn't have been so harsh on you. I was just... scared, you know?” She shrugged, her eyes a little regretful. “But I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”
There was a beat of silence before Asuka smiled, a genuine one. “We good?”
Sasha smiled back, nodding. “Yeah, we’re good.”
