Disclaimer: All characters in this fanfiction are 21 years of age or older. I did a lot of research into police work, but I really have no idea how most of it operates. Please forgive any mistakes and leave me some feedback so I can fix them. Thanks!

A T-rated version is also available to read on FF.n, dA, and AO3 if you'd like.

Cyberhearts

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I choked on my syn coffee when the call came through. I cursed and swiped at the droplets, which fortunately landed primarily on my black vest.

Roxas invited me out for a drink.

"I don't drink on the clock," I told him.

"Then don't come on the clock."

Fair enough.

We met up at the Afterlife—once again, north of Nobody territory. Even the apartments I took him to that night in Corpo Plaza were barely on the cusp of it, as if it were a forbidden place that he paradoxically still belonged to. Why wear the symbol, then? Why advertise his alliances if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was supposed to be?

His response, as we moved past the bouncer and into the club, was simply: "Because as far as anyone is aware, I'm on official Nobody business." He smirked back at me, "Just like you were on official police business when you gave me that ride home."

As we made our way through the ghastly blue-green ambiance, I had to remember to relax myself. Right then, I wasn't a cop… I was just Sora, who was meeting someone for a drink and a chat. Still, the Afterlife is where you come when you need to share info without prying eyes or ears. People who come here for what they need live on the edge of life and death… maybe that's why the name is so fitting.

We passed the bar, passed the vividly-dressed patrons, and made it to the southeast corner where a booth was occupied by some shady-looking strangers.

At first, I had a jolt of worry that we'd be joining them—but Roxas crossed his arms and deadpanned, "Hi. You're in our booth."

This cut their conversation haltingly short, but didn't seem to impress them. The nearest one snapped back, "What the fuck are you going to do about it, blondie?"

Roxas leaned forward and placed a hand on the table. With no change in his voice he said, "I'll bite your fucking throat out. Then I'll pick your shitty cybernetics out of my teeth and drop them into that shitty beer you're drinking as a shitty keepsake. You really wanna try me tonight?"

Mentally, I prepared myself for a fight. There was no way a comment like that would roll off anyone's shoulders… I brought my off-duty issued handgun with me, but not much else.

Before I could even think to reach for anything, though, I watched the sitting strangers' expressions all fall. The Afterlife's aesthetic seemed to accentuate the sudden pallor of their stricken faces. Whatever their plans were tonight, dealing with a possible psychopath clearly wasn't one of them. They cleared the booth while muttering their dissent, but gave us no further trouble.

Roxas turned an easygoing smile at me, "Have a seat."

Quite frankly, this was both surprising and impressive. Usually I was the one throwing my weight around to get things done. It was honestly a nice change of pace.

We sat on opposite sides of the corner booth and flagged down a waiter for some beers of our own. When we got them, I was ready to dial up the charm and work some magic… then, Roxas informed me, "I've gotta be honest with you, dear prince. I'm not gonna waste your time. This is for business..." My throat began to clench, but he finished with, "...but I also want to thank you."

I raised a brow at him, "You're the one who's been cleaning up around here and making my job easier. I should be thanking you."

"In that case… I'll let you buy us a round. But other than that," He swished the froth in his bottle, "Tonight is on me."

"Oh?" I hadn't even had a sip of anything and I was feeling bold, "You'll 'let' me, huh?"

"Hold up—" He pointed at me with a newly black-lacquered nail, "If you don't hear the business side first, you might not want to mix the pleasure quite yet."

My immediate instinct was to retort with, "So there will be pleasure?" but instead I swallowed it down and chased it with a pull of my drink. "Let's get down to business, then."

As if this were his cue, he swiped his fingers across the table to activate the built-in holo-system. A red glow engulfed us as his fingers flew across a laser keyboard. A flurry of images and text scrolled before me.

"I've been chasing a netrunner… someone who's, admittedly, a lot better than me. Maybe even as good as Alt Cunningham."

I pulled my lips into a tight line. Even though I wasn't very involved in net-running, even I knew who Alt Cunningham was. "That's a very serious comparison…"

"Which is why it's so important that I find this person. I've been using my status as a Nobody to uncover as much as I can… but the info is drying up. That's how you and I met—I think if I can keep chasing cybercrimes, I might be able to find something."

I pressed the beer bottle to my lips as I skimmed the glowing red text. News of cybercrime spikes, attempted hacks into Corpo systems, reports of cyber psychosis with no apparent cause… my brain worked these things into taffy in my skull. What was the connection here?

As if reading the look on my face, Roxas' own expression softened. "All I'm asking is for a lead. Can I trust you, Sora?"

My heart thumped hard in my chest, and it made me sit more upright.

"I don't know how much I could actually help," I admitted, "I'm just a beat cop after all. But I'm absolutely willing to try."

"Then I'll be real with you," I took a small sip just as Roxas leaned across the table, voice low, "I'm going after the Heartless, and I'm trying to find Maleficent."

Hearing those two names, I choked for the second time that day.

Roxas' eyes widened, loosening up his serious demeanor, "Sorry, didn't think you'd react like that."

"No, no," I cleared my throat, insisting, "It's just… I'd been hunting the Heartless for a while." It felt a little disingenuous, but I purposefully left out why. That was a story for another day. "The name Maleficent was the last lead I got before I had to step away from the case."

But it wasn't "stepping away," at least, not at first. They told me to drop it or else. They convinced me that my duties didn't involve chasing my own ghosts… and they were right. So I handed it off and "stepped away".

Roxas beckoned me closer, causing me to lean forward. Our faces were now splitting the holoscreen, red light lighting his pale face in an otherworldly scatter. I wondered if my face looked the same to him.

Voice a low rumble, he said, "Pretend we're flirting and play along."

I smirked, briefly forgetting the seriousness of the situation, "Who has to pretend?"

He smiled back, reaching a hand up to stroke along my cheek. It sent my nerves ablaze, and I was suddenly ready to hang on the edge of each word as if dangling over an abyss.

A flash of blue, and I realized he was sending me data. I knew I should hesitate when a gangster tries to send anything… but I'd seen the work Roxas could do. If he wanted to wreck my brain, there were hundreds of ways he would have already done that. I accepted the message, watching the tiny blue boxes fill up my vision.

He continued, fingers tracing along my jaw, leaving my skin hot wherever he touched. "I've been chasing them, the Heartless, around for a while now. As I'm sure you're aware, the Heartless are hard to track down… lots of netrunners, always covering up their tracks, and no official territory, either. They're like the VooDoo Boys, except smaller in scale and a hundred times trickier to trace."

The same problem happened to me. The Heartless just crop up wherever there's space for them. It's like shining a spotlight—shadows fill in wherever it's not pointed.

"These cybercrimes we keep coming across… they're linked. It's been clear in all the netcode I've cracked. Someone was sloppy, something slipped… and I found it."

My mind slid back to that first night, with the shard he handed over to me. How did he crack it that fast? How is he even sending me all this without using a shard?

"Maleficent has something I need. Something the Nobodies can't hear about. Not the cops either. And definitely not any Corpo scumbags. So I'll ask you again, Prince Sora," He gently gripped my chin, the tip of his thumb ghosting across the edge of my bottom lip, "Can I trust you?"

I can picture an outstretched hand belonging to someone I trust—trusted more than anyone else in the world. The reminder of betrayal stabs needles into my heart. I was supposed to have quit this chase months ago… but how could I possibly ignore the handsome face of opportunity staring at me?

"You can trust me, Roxas."

Admittedly, a little part of me was expecting him to lean in and finish out this little scenario I was working up in my head. Instead, he smiled and whispered, "Thank you."

His fingers fell away, the little blue boxes of info falling with them. He laughed suddenly, playfully shoving me back into the cushions behind me and away from our little red-lit escape. It only left me with more questions, but I knew that was the end of our little act.

"Shut up," He chuckled, hands working to grab a pack of cigarettes out of a jacket pocket, "Give me a light."

I readjusted myself, pulling a lighter out of my pants pocket and leaning over the table to obey.

"So…" He drawled, smoke pouring from his lips, "A tongue piercing, huh? What else are you hiding on patrols?"

I smirked at him, hoping to one day show him the rest of my body mods.

—-

I'd been replaying last night's conversation in my head. Staring at the computer screen on my desk, I was scrolling up and down the list of cybercrimes I'd finished my paperwork on. A cup of coffee sat cold at one corner. The synthetic stuff does not reheat well, and the break room ice always gave things an acrid taste. I paused to take a reluctant sip from it, more to rebel against the knot in my throat than anything else.

All around me, the station chatter was blurring into white noise in my head as I counted down the seconds. Soon, the gentleman I was waiting for would be in for the day, always arriving exactly two minutes before he could get written up for being late–no more, no less. Once he was here, I could finally make an official move toward this new fixation of mine.

At that point, it didn't really matter whether or not I got the green light. Roxas' assertion of my princliness wasn't technically incorrect… I'd been posturing myself to torpedo through the ranks to where I could make way bigger waves than those of a beat cop.

Then, I lost the best support I had. For the most jarring and ludicrous reason there was, too. Suddenly, my heart wasn't in it anymore.

But now… there was a chance for redemption.

I heard heavy footfalls from around the corner, my eyes flicking to the clock on my monitor to confirm the time.

Right on schedule.

George Geuff was a tall, lanky man with a pencil moustache and a mess of hair that always made it seem like he just rolled out of bed. His favorite clothing combo was a olive drab button-up with khakis and a signature trench coat. It was the perfect aesthetic to make him look exactly like the detective he was.

"Morning, Geuff." I said.

"Mornin', Sora," He replied, taking a sip from a steaming mug, "How're patrols treating ya?"

Same question, as always. Most days it irked me into a stoic silence, which was usually when Geuff would chuckle and encourage me to lighten up. Then he'd hint at my prospect and be on his merry way. Today, though, I was ready to shatter routine.

"Good, actually." I watched him stop dead in his tracks, the syn coffee in his cup sloshing from the action. Feigning indifference, I added, "I'm going to go smoke."

Gueff's eyebrows shot up, "I thought you quit?"

"I thought I did too," As I grabbed for the pack on my desk, I angled my head to where the overhead cameras couldn't read my lips. "I need to talk to you outside."

Without missing a beat, he raised his mug in solidarity. "I'll join you. It's a nice morning and I could use a break."

We leaned against the brick outside, as offset from the back door camera as possible. The sound of morning traffic and distant advertisement buzzed all around us. We both knew it would drown us out. I lit my smoke and decided I wouldn't mince words.

"Listen, you know the string of cybercrimes I've been following? I realized they're connected somehow. I thought I was just coming across a bunch of dead-end crimes, but… it's bigger than that. If you can vouch for me, I can keep putting together the pieces."

"Are the Heartless involved at all?"

It seemed Geuff wasn't wanting to waste any time either.

I recited the lie without any hesitation, "So far, it doesn't seem to be."

"Then it's definitely not related to Riku?"

I was hoping the inevitable question wouldn't somehow squeeze my throat, but it did. I exhaled a stream of grey smoke through the side of my mouth, buying myself a second to release the tension. A distant part of me thought about how that little cloud would mingle with the smog hanging over the city above us.

"No. I gave up on that a long time ago. If I get even a hint of Heartless involvement, though, you and Mick will be the first to know."

"What about the Nobodies?"

This I wasn't expecting. It almost made me flinch–almost. I hadn't fixed a response for this, so I brushed it off, "As far as I know? Not yet. I think it's a bigger gang pulling the strings, but I need more information."

This seemed to assuage him for the time being. He asked many more questions, the big one being why I wouldn't just float the info to him and his partner and have them handle it. I replied that cybercrimes weren't his specialty anyway, and a beat cop running consistent calls looks a lot less suspicious than two detectives sniffing around.

"Who knows?" I added, ready to dazzle him using his greatest weakness: ambition. "This could be my chance to prove myself. Maybe Mick will see what I'm capable of, partner or not. Then I'll be gunning for your job, Geuff."

Gruff broke eye contact to start down at his mug. He swished the rapidly-cooling liquid inside, pondering as if the coffee were tea leaves. "Thought you gave that up a long time ago, Sora."

My mind drifted again to the man in my passenger seat. Clad in blue, badge catching the city lights. Long night drives while sharing dreams of something better than uniforms and cruising. Then, I thought of someone else.

"Maybe I found the hope that I lost."

It wasn't a lie… but it wasn't fully the truth, either.

Regardless, Geuff smiled. "It's good to have you back, Officer Sora." As he turned to leave, he said, "Or should I get used to calling you 'Detective'?"

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A/N: Hey, uh… do people even remember Cyberpunk 2077? The 1-year anniversary was around this time last month! Also isn't that so typical of me… takes a year to update a fanfiction… fuck. Well! I hope you enjoy it regardless!

References and Inspirations:

I found the OP of this fic. You might be wondering, "Wait, an anime OP?" Yes. An anime OP. A friend sent it to me: it's "Sugar" by ilo ilo. Don't ask me why, I just feel it in my jellies, okay?

Sora's cop outfit isn't explained in detail in this fic, but it's based off of the Cyberpunk 2077 character Juan Mendez from the sidequest "Happy Together." In my head, everything is the same, except Sora probably has a police hat and no facial hair. Hope that helps!

Disclaimer: I tried to do as much research as I could into how the police operate, especially the cops from Cyberpunk, but I'm probably way off on many levels. Let me know how I can do better.

In my fics, I try to make Sora more apparently Hawai'ian to represent the amazing culture. Disclaimer: Admittedly, I'm caucasianm as fuck and I am not at all representative of the culture. I did a lot of research there as well, but if there's anything I can improve upon, let me know!

Thanks for your feedback! Please please PLEASE favorite, review, ask questions, send kudos, add bookmarks… anything!