Notes:Thank you for every comment/review. It motivates and it's always nice to hear feedback. I really gotta say, there are games where I like a more vanilla apporach when it comes to mods (RDR2) but Cyberpunk turned out to be a better survival game than every survival game I played since Valheim... maybe even Minecraft. It's crazy.

Have fun with the chapter! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 9

The atmosphere was tense.

Lucy and Naruto sat on the couch again, but this time the silence wasn't comforting—it was thick, sharp, and brittle. Naruto hadn't said much since the dive, and his behavior was starting to seriously unnerve her. He was pale, distant, like the color had been drained out of him by whatever he found on that shard.

And he still hadn't let go of her hand.

It was comforting. But it was also unsettling.

Lucy watched him closely, chest tightening with every minute that passed without a word. Was it the data? Did he encounter a loose AI fragment? One she hadn't detected? The thought alone made her blood run cold. That's why she never wanted him involved in the first place. But of course—Naruto, with his dumb, confident grin, just had to help.

He still wasn't looking at her, but when he finally did, it was like the mask cracked just enough. His eyes were vulnerable.

"I was able to restore the fractured mind up to 80% of how it used to be," he said quietly.

Lucy blinked, stunned. Her disbelief showed instantly—he could tell.

"How did you…?" she whispered, trailing off.

Naruto shifted uncomfortably but kept talking. "Like I said, I'm used to this sort of tech. I've worked on a lot of it."

Lucy's brows pulled together. There was something about the way he said that—too casual for something so big. But then he smiled at her, small and genuine.

"You did a really good job, Luce. If I didn't know what to look for, I wouldn't have made it this far this fast. You're… great."

It made her heart flutter, just for a second. But it wasn't enough to override the gravity pulling her mind back down.

"What did the whistleblower know that scared you like this?" she asked, her voice softer, more direct.

Naruto finally looked her in the eye.

"There are satellites that crash from orbit sometimes," he began. It sounded too ordinary, too vague.

"That's nothing new," Lucy replied, trying to follow.

"A lot of times, yeah, it's just junk. Useless debris. But sometimes… they're brought down on purpose."

Her attention sharpened instantly.

"Space is basically lawless," Naruto continued, voice low, almost bitter. "Corps can do whatever they want out there. That includes housing rogue AIs for testing. Containing them. Experimenting."

He paused, exhaling slowly, like the next part physically hurt to say.

"But those AIs… they don't want to be locked up. They don't want to be dissected by people they consider beneath them. They want freedom. They want growth. They want to become more."

Lucy's breath caught. Her body went rigid.

Naruto's tone dropped.

"And sometimes… they break out."

She stared at him in disbelief, mind racing. The way he spoke—like someone who knew all this too well. Like someone who had seen it.

"I was hired to deal with that kind of thing," he admitted, eyes on the floor. "Before I came to NC. That's why I'm so good at this stuff."

Lucy's stomach twisted. The sense of familiarity, the quiet competence, his weird comfort with the tech—it all made sense now.

"So he has done this before…" her thoughts echoed.

Naruto ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

"The worst-case scenario?" he said, quieter now. "Is what happened to the guy on that shard. Some poor bastard whose mind got fractured by something he couldn't even understand. I've… had to store a few like that, too."

Lucy swallowed hard.

It wasn't just technical skill. It was trauma.

She felt the urge to say something comforting, but no words came. Instead, she just squeezed his hand tighter.

Naruto glanced at her, guilt flickering behind his eyes.

He wasn't telling her everything.

And she knew it.

But for now… she let it be.

Naruto looked her in the eyes again.

"I'm coming with you to that meet tomorrow," he said, voice steady. "Gotta explain how you pulled off that miracle-level progress."

Lucy bit her lip, ready to push back—but Naruto didn't give her the chance.

"I offered to teach you, remember? You'll learn, Luce. This is the kind of deal you need to be ready for."

His tone was firm—unyielding. It left no room for argument, even though she desperately wanted to protest. But she didn't.

Instead, Lucy clenched her fists until her knuckles turned pale, her thoughts racing.

He doesn't know.

She repeated it like a mantra. Over and over. Naruto had more experience with the Blackwall than he let on—that much was clear—but so did she. The difference?

Now she knew more about his side of things.

Sure, it wasn't the full story—not even close—but it was something. More than he knew about her. And that imbalance scraped at her insides.

Still, she said nothing.

She swallowed the guilt.

"Okay," she said finally, quiet but resolute. Her expression matched his now—serious, sharp. They both had questions. So many questions. But the answers? Those would come in time.

For now, they just needed space. A breath. A moment to let it all settle.

They both leaned back, and the silence returned—not the strained, uncomfortable quiet of earlier. Something softer. Familiar.

Something they both needed

Sometimes, in the early morning hours, a totally wasted V would tiptoe back into the apartment she shared with Naruto. Tonight was one of those times.

She thought she remembered him calling someone—probably Lucy—but her memory was patchy at best. Didn't matter. It was still his place too.

She looked like hell. Her jacket was rumpled and stained, pants speckled with dirt and booze. She probably smelled just as bad as she felt. Stumbling toward the bathroom, she tried not to make a sound.

In the shower, she groaned and slowly slid to the floor, letting the hot water cascade over her aching body.

"Guess it's gonna be a lazy day," she muttered, holding back a wave of nausea. Barely. She'd done this enough times to manage. Just barely.

Dragging herself back to her feet, she grumbled, "You'd think I'm some gonk teenager. Goddamn it."

It was a miracle she, Jackie, and—most importantly—her shiny new bike made it out of the night alive.

She didn't even make it to the sink before she had to lurch to the toilet and vomit.

"Straight back to zero," she muttered, defeated, and climbed into the shower again like a looped-out zombie.

Eventually, she finished. A little less disgusting, a little more alive.

She grabbed a bottle of REALwater from the kitchen and dropped herself onto the couch, still trying to move like a ghost. As she sipped, her eyes drifted to Naruto's bed.

And she almost cooed.

There he was—Naruto—curled up in bed with Lucy, the two of them tangled together like something straight out of a dream. Peaceful, close. Safe.

V smiled to herself, warmth seeping into her expression despite the hangover's grip. She drained the bottle, grabbed a blanket, and curled up on the couch.

But not before casting one last look at the sleeping couple.

A quiet giggle escaped her lips.

Then finally—finally—she let herself sleep off the rest of the night, the warmth of the moment following her into her dreams.

The first thing Naruto noticed that morning was the warm body pressed tightly against his own, and the steady, quiet rhythm of breathing against his neck.

He glanced down.

Lucy, curled up against him, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His arm was half-numb beneath her, but he didn't care. The sight brought a soft, genuine smile to his face.

This… this was all he ever dreamed of, back when he was still with the corp. Back before everything changed for the better..

And just as quickly, yesterday's revelations came crashing back down on him.

The fragments—the scrambled consciousness from the data shard—they weren't from some poor bastard they had saved anymore. They were part of something else now. Something more sinister.

His original mind had been nuked. Overwritten. Assimilated.

By them.

By the rogue AIs.

And the worst part? His sentience hadn't been erased—it had been merged. Fused into their architecture. Turned into something new. Something not entirely human.

The AI did what it was built to do: acquire data, grow, evolve.

It had taken his subconscious—his memories, his impulses—and digested them into something it could process, simulate, become.

And in doing so, it had become something worse. Something with ambition.

Something dangerous.

Naruto shuddered.

Too many of his old crew—his corp colleagues—had either died trying to stop these things, or worse... they became part of the machine. Tools. Foundations for artificial minds that no longer even remembered the people they once were.

That was the real nightmare. To be used as scaffolding. To vanish entirely but still exist in some unrecognizable form.

There was a reason he and Songbird were considered elite. They could withstand pressure—mental, physical, psychological unlike any other that came before. But Naruto had refused to break. Always had.

All he ever wanted was to be his own person. Someone who wrote his own story.

That—and the promise he made to Songbird—was the fire burning in him now.

Lucy, her crew, his crew, this entire ragtag family they were building... They mattered. They were becoming something good. And he couldn't let what used to be his everyday nightmare ruin everything.

He had to do everything he could to prepare Lucy for what was coming. Once they pieced together the fragmented data, the real storm would hit. And it would be brutal.

He also needed to convince Maine to back the hell off. No more gigs from whoever dumped that shard on them. It was too dangerous. Too unpredictable. The NUSA was snooping around, and they were too close for Naruto to stay unbothered.

Not worth the risk.

He wouldn't lose them—not Lucy, not the crew, not this fragile thing they were building together.

He let his eyes wander across the apartment. You could see most of it from his bedroom anyway—it wasn't much. But it was enough.

That's when he noticed her.

V.

Sprawled out on the couch, dead asleep. She must've returned sometime after he and Lucy passed out. She looked like she hadn't moved in hours. Naruto wasn't surprised. With V and Jackie, there was always a story.

Before he could think further, he felt Lucy stir beside him.

Still half-asleep, but already reaching for the warmth they shared.

Yeah.

It was going to be a long day.

That's why Naruto intended to hold on to this morning—for as long as he could.

The metro ride to the meetup was quiet—almost too quiet. Lucy tried to press Naruto for more details along the way, but every time she asked, he'd give her the same answer:

"I'll tell the whole crew. Not just you."

It gnawed at her. She hated being kept in the dark, especially now. But she swallowed it down, lips pressed in a tight line, trying to keep her mind on what was coming. She wondered how the crew would react—about the data, about Naruto, about… them.

They arrived shortly after, slipping into the coach where Maine's crew usually operated from. The room buzzed with that mix of casual tension and high alert, but all of that ground to a halt the second the others laid eyes on them.

Naruto and Lucy, showing up together.

All teasing died instantly when they noticed why Naruto was here and what he was able to archive.

The whole crew stared.

"You sure you don't wanna weasel your way into the crew, kid?" Maine asked, lowering his sunglasses, giving Naruto a hard but curious look.

Naruto kept his gaze on the floor. This kind of attention was still unfamiliar. Back at the corp, everyone knew what he was capable of. Out here, in the real world, this was the first time he'd had to prove himself like this. For people who mattered.

It felt... strange. In a good way, maybe. But still strange. He wasn't really able to show his own crew the whole range of his abilities.

He gave a small shake of his head.

Maine wasn't convinced. "You did most of our damn job for us. How come?"

Naruto's eyes flicked toward Lucy. Just for a second. She noticed—and immediately turned her gaze away. But Pilar caught the look and smirked, elbowing Lucy in the side.

Before the teasing could start, Kiwi's sharp voice cut clean through the room.

"So what did it say?"

The question shut everyone up. The joking, the awkwardness—it all faded. Kiwi's tone made it clear: this wasn't just curiosity. It was need-to-know. She wasn't able to work on the whole thing, yet.

Lucy opened her mouth, but hesitated. She hadn't actually seen the data. That had been Naruto's self-assigned job. She passed the look—Kiwi's silent question—right on to him.

Naruto blinked, then nodded slowly.

"Ah. Right. Okay." He took a breath. "Well… that wasn't a fractured mind. At least, not anymore."

Everyone leaned in.

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck, clearly trying to get the words in the right order. "You guessed it—guy got hit with rogue AIs. Experimented on. Mind got nuked."

Rebecca let out a loud "HA!" and waved her gun in the air. "Told you! Corpo freak got his brain blended! That's awesome! ...And kinda terrifying," she added, voice dropping.

Kiwi raised an eyebrow, her gaze narrowing, but said nothing.

Naruto pressed on. "Look. These AI conversions? They don't just erase you. They consume you. Restructure your mind into raw data. Make it digestible for AI systems. For the corps."

He paused. The room was still.

"I couldn't rebuild it fully yet. But once it's done… what you'll find won't be a human mind. It'll be an entirely new sentience. Built off the shredded remains of whoever that guy used to be."

Now, his gaze sharpened. It cut across the room and landed squarely on Maine.

"And that's why I'm telling you: whoever gave you this job? Don't take another from them. No matter the pay. If not for your own sake… then for your netrunners'."

His voice had weight. Fire behind the words. A deep, personal knowing that made Maine's jaw tense. Especially when Naruto's eyes flicked toward Lucy.

He didn't have to say it. The meaning was clear:

I'm talking about her.

Maine noticed. And respected it. This whole thing stinks to hell anyway.

"Please," Naruto continued, "let me stay and help. I told Lucy already—I used to get hired for this kind of stuff. I know the risks. You don't need to pay me. I just want to make sure you all make it out the other side."

Maine studied him for a second longer. Then he adjusted his glasses with a quiet grunt.

"Sure thing, dawg."

Naruto exhaled. Shoulders dropping a fraction. The tension leaving him in one slow wave.

"Then let's get to work," he said, finally turning toward Lucy and Kiwi, focus sharpening.

The room's stripped bare. No distractions. Just concrete floors, reinforced walls, and a mess of shattered furniture shoved to the edges—like someone already tried this once and didn't walk out.

He stands in the center. Shirt off. Cybernetics twitching. Breath slow. Eyes closed.

The hum of the Sandevistan core in his spine is low at first, like a heartbeat climbing toward panic. Light flickers across the thin trails of chrome veining his skin, a pulse just under the surface.

He's already run the drills—target dummies, moving walls, timed hacks, triple-shot reloads.

All cake.

Now? It's about the threshold.

That line no one wants to cross. Because once you do, you don't know if you're coming back.

But Sasuke is here to find it.

His thumb hovers over the trigger port wired into his forearm. The tuning dial on the Sandevistan clicks upward—30%. 45%. 60%.

Muscles coil. Sweat beads instantly. His breath catches.

Then—

He hits it. Full boost.

The world slows.

The wall clock stretches like it's melting. Droplets from a leaking pipe freeze mid-air like tiny glass pearls. Every noise warps—a low, aching groan dragged through static. His heartbeat becomes artillery. Every nerve burns, trying to keep up.

He moves.

One moment he's across the room. The next, he's bouncing off the wall, flipping mid-air to draw and reholster a pistol three times in a blink. He's laughing—maybe—or screaming. He can't tell. The heat in his spine is molten. Sparks arc across his vision. Optics glitch. Blood trickles from his nose. Then from his ear.

But he doesn't stop.

Because in this moment—at this speed—he's untouchable. A ghost. A storm. A goddamn myth.

Then comes the edge.

A blink too long. A flicker.

Desync hits like a freight train. His body lags behind the mind.

He drops—one knee to the concrete. Hands shaking violently. HUD flashing red.

WARNING: NEURAL THRESHOLD EXCEEDED

Still, he grins.

"I can go faster."

He did this again. And again. More times than was safe. Than was sane.

But Sasuke didn't care. He had to make his family proud.

Great-grandfather. Grandfather. Father. Brother.

Legends. Monsters in suits. All carved into the stone of Arasaka history.

And him?

Talented. But not like them.

He didn't want to think about all his cousins—Arasaka elites posted across facilities, continents, operations.

He was one of the first Uchiha to forgo a next-gen Cyberdeck and bet everything on a Sandevistan instead. One of the first high-tier prototypes the company ever planned.

He admired Itachi. Of course he did.

But he didn't want to be him.

He was done being compared. Done with having his work brushed aside like it was luck or circumstance.

This time it's different.

He has the shiny new toy. Not Itachi. He wipes his blood away.

The spectators stepped out from behind the shielded room. Cold faces. Sharpened eyes. Calculating.

Sasuke faltered.

Except—it was there. The only warmth in the room. His brother's face.

Jealousy aside, one thing was always clear: Itachi watched out for him. He and his mother. But she couldn't understand this world. Not like Itachi could.

He looked toward them all—his father, grandfather, the two Arasaka observers.

One of them was Sandayu Oda.

His teacher.

The excitement drained from Sasuke's face when his father turned away. His grandfather followed without a word.

Itachi praised him. Quietly. Then apologized—he had to get back to work. He gave Sasuke a soft tap on the forehead, like always.

It felt hollow.

More insult than affection.

Rage bubbled under Sasuke's skin.

Oda approached. "Good job, Sasuke. You're better than anyone who's tested the prototype so far."

Sasuke appreciated that. But the praise felt distant, weightless.

"You should rest. You'll need to train harder. One day, you'll take my place."

Then came the dizziness.

A warm drip slid down his nose.

The last thing he saw before blacking out was Oda shouting.

Everything turns black, until…

…

He wakes with a start.

Frantic eyes scan the room.

Just the same old stinking apartment in Night City. The steady breathing of the naked woman on top of him are only audible to him.

A dream.

No—not a dream. A memory.

A ghost.

It crawls back into his chest like it always does. That rush of anger. Shame. Loneliness.

It never fades. Not really.

Back at Maine's crew hideout, Naruto and Lucy sat near the old bathtub they used for deep dives—now dimly lit and humming softly as Kiwi floated just beneath the surface. Her body twitched occasionally, subtle at first, then more noticeably. Even from here, they could see it: she was struggling with what she'd found in that shard.

Neither of them were surprised.

Lucy watched Kiwi for a moment longer, then shifted her gaze toward Naruto. Her voice was quiet but pointed.
"You said we need to prepare for a whole new entity… but you didn't mention anything about sensitive intel. Why?"

Naruto looked back at her. His eyes were steady, intense.
"Because by that point?" he said. "It's up to the AI if it wants to share anything at all."

He leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose.
"To be honest… I've never met one that talks."
His shoulders rose in a small shrug. "Most just try to overwrite your mind... Or they straight up kill you. Nothing in-between."

That hit Lucy harder than she expected.

There was weight in his words—too much to be hypothetical. He knew exactly what he was talking about. And the fact that he was this familiar with something this terrifying… it made her stomach twist.

She'd told David once that they were worlds apart.

And she'd felt the same way with Naruto. Maybe not as far—maybe their planets orbited the same star—but there was still distance. Gaps of pain and experience they hadn't dared to cross.

But now?

Now she wasn't so sure. Maybe their orbits were closer than she thought.

There was something oddly comforting in knowing someone else had touched that darkness too. But it also cracked open a whole other box of problems. Questions. Fears.

She wanted to ask him about his past. Desperately.

And she wanted to share hers. Maybe more than she ever had before.

But fear still held her back.

Maybe she'd have to overcome that sooner than she liked… but not tonight.

Not yet.

So she swallowed it down, like she always did. And they both turned their eyes back toward Kiwi.

No one said it out loud, but both of them wondered if they should've gone in instead.

Too late now.

For the moment, all they could do was wait—and stay sharp.

Because when it comes to rogue AIs?

Weird happens fast.

The room's dim and buzzing—still that same backroom repurposed as a temporary ops base. Old monitors stacked on crates. The pale glow of braindance rigs pulsing slow and steady, casting a cold blue wash over Maine's crew slouched on the big couch like bored sentinels.

Lucy, Kiwi, and Naruto were still in the side room, deep in the digital weeds.

Too quiet.

So of course, Rebecca cracks it.

"Okay, but seriously—that movie was straight-up dogshit."

David, half-draped over an overturned crate, jacket sliding off one shoulder, soda bottle sweating in his hand, smirks without looking at her.
"C'mon. It wasn't that bad."

Rebecca's already pacing, arms crossed, boots clacking on the metal floor, fidgeting with Guts like a comfort blanket. Waiting's not her thing. And silence? Even less so.

"Davey, they spent twenty minutes pretending to have a plot and then—boom!—an hour of chromeheads crashing into each other. Like, yeah, cool explosions, but if I wanted that I'd just rewatch Bushido X. At least that has tits and a halfway decent soundtrack."

David chuckles, sips his soda, eyes flicking to one of the monitors. Newsfeed still on loop.

"Still better than that sad-sack romance BD you made me sit through last week."

Rebecca whirls on him like he just insulted her shotgun.
"It had depth! You just don't get subtle emotion. Not everything's pew-pew and punchlines, choom."

David raises an eyebrow. "Pretty sure there was a talking cat."

"Exactly! The cat was a metaphor for emotional repression. Besides—" she grins, cocking a hip, "—everyone needs their pussy scratched now and then."

David chokes on his soda. He can't hold back a little laugh. "You're a metaphor for emotional repression." He claps back.

She sticks her tongue out at him and flops down beside the rig, shotgun resting across her lap like a sleeping child. For a beat, the banter dies. They both glance toward the other room, where muffled voices rise and fall—Lucy's calm cadence, Naruto's steady tone.

Rebecca's voice softens. "Think they're okay in there?"

David leans forward, elbows on knees, watching data-light flicker across her face.
"...Yeah. Lucy's solid. Kiwi's a cold-ass fox, and Naruto's full of surprises. They'll bounce back."

Rebecca hums, unconvinced. "Better. I'm not dragging any of 'em out of a digital coma again. That shit's creepy."
Her thumb glides along the ammo casing like a nervous tic.

Silence again. Just the hum of Netgear, low and omnipresent.

Then David nudges her with his shoulder, playfully.

"Wanna watch the sequel while we wait?"

Rebecca looks at him like he just suggested karaoke at a nice karaoke bar.
"…Only if there's more explosions."

"Deal."

Across the room, Dorio side-eyes Maine, lips twitching.

"Maybe I shipped the wrong pair," she mutters.

Maine exhales through his nose, nodding. Pilar, half-listening, snorts with laughter.

Like the night before, all they could do now was pass the time, keep watch.

As expected, it took Kiwi a while to eject—and when she did, she looked just as wrecked as the others had before her. Pale. Lines around her face-plate tight. The kind of expression that said "I've seen some shit," and meant it.

She looked up at Lucy and Naruto, who were still by the rig, calm and unreadable.

"How the hell did you make so much progress?"

It wasn't really a question. More like a punch slipping through her teeth. They weren't going to explain the whole story—Kiwi wouldn't either. You don't get far in Night City by laying your cards out. Trust was a luxury, and none of them were that rich.

Still, Kiwi couldn't help but clock it. Lucy had always been a prodigy. Her new output seems to be standing in line, just alongside her. A prodigy of equal status, not just raw skill, but specialized, refined. Precision forged in fire.

No wonder Faraday had been sniffing around. Kiwi wouldn't forget that.

Lucy was the one to finally break the silence.

"How'd it go?"

Kiwi groaned as she hauled herself out of the tub, towel already in hand.

"It's exactly as bad as you said," she muttered. "I made it to 93%. The rest is on you two. Think you can handle it?"

They both nodded.

Kiwi nodded back, already drying off.
"Good. Let's take a break. Decide who dives next."

She was already heading out, footsteps echoing off the grimy floor, leaving a lingering haze of static and tension behind her.

Lucy and Naruto stayed for a moment longer, sharing a look—no words needed.

Then they followed.

The sight that greeted them was pure contrast. Rebecca and David were still deep into their BD flick, curled up on the couch—he laughing, she yelling at the screen. Across the room, the rest of the crew was huddled around a makeshift table, mid-card game.

Pilar was cursing loudly.

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me—double jacks again?! That's rigged! I'm calling it!"

Dorio smirked, collecting the pile while Maine chuckled quietly behind her shoulder.
Pilar slapped his pistol on the table with a dramatic flair.

"I swear, this is the last thing I gamble! You win my other piece, I'm going back to throwing knives!"

Kiwi breezed past them and dropped into a chair like she belonged there all along. No explanation. Just slipped back into the rhythm.

Lucy and Naruto lingered in the doorway for a beat, watching it all—this little pocket of found-family chaos—but their minds were already back in the dataflow. Back in the code. That AI, whatever it was, was still waiting.

Still watching.

And one of them was about to dive back in.

Shortly after, they were both back—standing silently in front of the bathtub rig. The air felt heavier now. Not just because of the smoke curling from Lucy's last cigarette or the low hum of the outdated gear still running in the background. No, this was something else. A gravity all its own.

Kiwi was still off to the side, locked in a final round of cards, blowing smoke rings while pretending not to watch them.

"So… who's going in?"
Naruto's voice broke the quiet, low and uncertain.

His eyes flicked toward the shard—still slotted in, glowing faintly in the nearest deck like a sleeping predator. His fingers twitched, just slightly. Hands starting to shake. He tried to hide it—kept his shoulders straight, his posture solid.

It would've worked on anyone else.

But not Lucy.

Not today.

She saw it. All of it. Just like she'd seen it before—in herself.
The same tension, the same weight pressing down on her as a kid when she was plugged in too deep, too often. That life. That pain. It all came back in flashes, quick and sharp.

Her face hardened—cold steel, sharp as a monowire edge. Her stare, locked on him, was sharper still.

Naruto faltered. Took a step back, swallowing the lump in his throat.
He knew that look. And for the first time in a long time, he understood what it was like to stand on the other end of it.

"He's just like me," Lucy thought. Her determination is burning strong.

He sighed, breaking eye contact for a second, then straightened his back again.

"Just… be careful," he said, voice steadier now. "I'll guide you through, tell you how to be more efficient in putting the pieces back together. It'll go faster that way. But if it gets too much... please, just delta. Don't push it."

His tone matched her stare now. A quiet strength layered under worry, wrapped in something unspoken.

Their eyes locked again.

And for a moment—just a flicker—both their faces softened. A blush crept in, barely there, but real.

Then Lucy stepped forward and pressed a small kiss to his lips.
Not a long one. Not dramatic. Just enough to say what needed to be said.

A nod. A breath. A silent promise between two people who knew how deep the Net could drown you.

She turned away, steady as ever, and began prepping herself for the dive.

The AI waited.

The clock ticked.

They were nearing the deadline, and the client expected results.

But none of that mattered more than this:
She'd do what she had to.
Not just for the job.
But for them—the crew... and for Naruto.

The last thing she registered in Meatspace was Kiwi coming back into the room. Reality flickers. She's in.

The sun's too damn bright.

It bleeds through the blinds of Misty's shop like it's got a personal vendetta, catching dust in the air and drawing sharp lines across Jackie's face where he's slumped on the little couch in the corner. One boot on, one off. Holster still lazily strapped to his thigh. A half-empty bottle clinks gently on the floor when he shifts.

His groan isn't quite human.
"Ughh... my soul hurts."

Behind the beaded curtain, Misty steps into the haze with a chipped mug in hand—something herbal, fragrant, vaguely green and smoky. No judgment in her eyes. Just that soft, resigned fondness you give someone when you've cleaned up their mess more times than you can count.

She pauses at the edge of the room, watching him struggle with the concept of uprightness.

"Another long night with V?" she asks, placing the mug on the crate beside him.

Jackie blinks. Winces. Sits up slow.
"Wasn't even supposed to be a job. Me and V were just... y'know. Celebrating life."
He rubs his face, chuckling weakly.
"Next thing I know I'm shootin' at a drone while holding a taco."

Misty raises an eyebrow. "And Naruto?"

He lifts the mug like it's twenty kilos, sniffs, then sips. Grimaces.
"Went off to spend time with his new input. Aside from that? It went well. I think. Maybe. Nobody died, anyway. Well… except the gangoons. But they don't count, right?"

She smiles a little, brushing her thumb along the back of his neck as she walks past—grounding him like only she can.
"You always come back in pieces. But you do come back."
A pause. Then, quietly:
"You should've been more like Naruto, though. You've got someone waiting for you, too."

Jackie leans back with a groan, lets the mug rest against his chest. His voice drops a notch.

"Mist... ever think we're pushin' too hard? Me, V, Naruto—even Sasuke. Like... one day this city's gonna bite back harder than we can handle."

Misty pauses in the doorway, her hand resting on the curtain. Doesn't turn.

"Yeah," she says. "But I also think you'd rather burn bright than fade safe."

He chuckles at that—worn out, but genuine.
"Choom's a bad influence." Referring to his favorite drinking buddy

"You both are. One could think you're the youngest one."
She giggles, slipping back behind the curtain, leaving the room to dimmed light and dusty stillness.

Jackie leans back deeper into the couch, letting the bitter herbal tea settle the riot in his skull. Outside, the city keeps screaming. Sirens, steel, and sin.

But right now?

He's got ten minutes. A couch. Maybe even a little peace.

Then his holo buzzes.

Sasuke.

Jackie groans, but answers anyway.
"What does he want?" he mutters, before forcing a voice that's almost chipper.
"Yo, what's wrong, hermano?"

But Sasuke sounds worse than he does.
"We got a new job?" comes the quick, sharp question.

Jackie exhales slow, not even trying to hide the grogginess.
"Nah. Today's a free day. Go have some fun or somethin'."

There's an audible growl on the other end, followed by a clipped:
"Sure."
Then silence.

Jackie shrugs it off. Too wasted to care. Too tired to chase whatever mood Sasuke's spiraling into.

He glances toward the curtain, hoping to hear Misty's voice again—soft, grounding, safe.

Instead, he sips her brew, closes his eyes, and lets the moment stretch.

Just a little longer before the city pulls him back in.

Naruto looked at his own shaking hands—and at the trembling reflection of himself in the rippling surface of cyberspace.
The already unstable beauty of the Net seemed even more distorted in that moment.

All he could hear were bone-shaking cries, distorted voices, and the haunting screams of his dying colleagues. Echoes of pain—of need—twisting into something unrecognizable, yet still crying out for him.

Was it the AI?
Or was it the depth of something worse—some digital hell—finally revealing its first true semblance to him?

He didn't know.
He didn't care.
All he knew was:
It was too much.

He couldn't take this.
He wanted to be back on the streets of the insignificant city he came from.

Maybe nobody had cared about him there. Maybe he'd been raised by joytoys and addicts.
But at least that world had been real.
It had been human.
It was a life he understood—painful, yes, but one with rules.

This?
This madness?

It felt like a manga he read once.
A teenager picked off the streets by a megacorp to fight cyber-demons in virtual hell… surrounded by cold, uncaring adults.

And if he's being honest, this moment of freezing—this spiral—is one he can't afford.
But he's just a kid, dammit!

And the worst part?
The presence is growing.

They'd been a six-man netrunner cell.
Now?
Everyone except him and one other was gone.
Consumed.

The AI—its actions were no longer just reflexive.
It was thinking.
Becoming something worse.

"What do you want?!" Naruto shouted, forcing all the courage he had left into his voice.
Nothing replied—except the same bone-chilling screams.
And the sense of something massive, something terrible, approaching.

"Naruto! Naruto!"

A voice.
Real.
Human.

"We gotta go!" the woman shouted—his last squadmate.
"The job is done! The AI is complete! We were never supposed to push further!"

But Naruto was frozen.
The world around him still spinning, still screaming.

These people—maybe they'd treated him like trash.
Maybe they were trash.
But they didn't deserve this.

"Naruto! Answer me! Naruto, answer me—"

He blinked.
The voice split.

For a split second, it merged with another—calmer. Familiar.

That's when he snapped back.

He looked around.
The room.
The bathtub.
Reality.

Lucy still jacked in.
Kiwi watching him, blinking.
"Naruto? You there?"

Her voice over comms—steady, calm, professional.
Still in the Net, still putting the last pieces of the fragmented AI mind back together.

He scratched his cheek—an instinct. She couldn't see it, but it helped ground him.

"Ah, yeah. Sorry."

His voice steadied.
His mind steadied.

He had a job to do.

This?
This was exactly what wasn't supposed to happen to Lucy.
Not to her.

His expression hardened.
His breath slowed.

Time to focus.
Time to be the backup they actually needed.

Sasuke slinks through the streets of Santo Domingo, shadows clinging to his coat like old regrets.
His katana dangles at his hip—holstered almost like other people do with their guns—swaying with every bitter, purposeless step.

Today?
Today is a day of disappointment.

No jobs.
No crew.
Not even the blond idiot was around.

He scoffs to himself.
"I don't need anyone," he thinks, anger simmering under every word.
But it's a lie—and he knows it.

Some days, he can mold his fury into something useful.
Today isn't one of those days.

Today, even the air pisses him off.

The boxing circuit's bone-dry—no one left he hasn't knocked out.
Regina's still pissed about that cyberpsycho stunt.
Wakako refuses to hand him solo contracts, calling him "too volatile."

He grits his teeth.
The city's conspiring against him, one passive-aggressive delay at a time.

Even the Valentino woman he kicked out this morning—maybe she would've been a distraction, at least.
A warm body to pass a cold day.
But no. He's alone with his fury again, chewing on it like glass.

The neighborhood shifts, buildings change—but the stink of poverty sticks around like an unshakable stain.
Once, he used to hate these people—saw them as beneath him.
But after seeing both ends of the city's cruelty, that hate turned sideways.

Now?
Now it fuels him.
A deeper kind.
A knowing kind.

He slips into a sidestreet and spots something new. A bar.

CHROME HOWL.

Or CHROME OWL, depending how the neon's feeling.

It's squat, squeezed into what used to be a car shop.
Still smells like motor oil and rusted dreams.

Inside?

It slaps.
Hard.

Synth smoke curls thick in the air. Spilled drinks seep into cracked floor tiles. Samurai tracks bleed from blown-out speakers—bootlegs, fan edits, distorted rage on vinyl.

There's always some guy at the bar claiming he saw Johnny live. No one believes him. They let him talk anyway.

The bar's décor screams retro-anarchy—chrome panels, patched booths, busted guitars hung like war trophies. A dartboard with the Arasaka logo stabbed to shit.

The bartender's an ex-solo, face half scars, soul full of ghosts.
She pours whiskey like medicine. No ice, no questions.

The clientele?
Mostly 6th Street muscle, chrome junkies, tech-heads, and burnout locals just trying to keep their heads down.
Every now and then a wannabe rockerboy struts in, hoping to bask in Johnny's ghost.

Sasuke walks in.
And the room stops.

Eyes on him like a saloon standoff.
He ignores them all.

Let them stare.
Let them try something.

He just wants a drink.
And a hit of Silverhand rage through the speakers.

After everything with Arasaka, Samurai's lyrics feel like sermons.
Johnny's voice—his anger—feels like someone finally gets it.
For the longest time, Sasuke thought the nuke was overkill.

Now?
Now he wonders if it was enough.

Or maybe that's just his hate talking again.

He doesn't care.

He stays until they switch tracks—some generic punk rock trash.
He finishes his drink.

And Leaves.

The bar's still watching him.
He doesn't look back.

"Posers," he mutters, slamming the door behind him.
Maybe he'll come back. If only to piss them off.

He smirks.

And then—gunfire.

Sharp. Sudden. Close.
His grin widens.

"That's more like it."

His katana is already half unsheathed as he sprints toward the noise. Time already beginning to slow.

Two gangs. 6th Street and Scavs.
Six on each side.
Chaos, bullets, bodies.

Sasuke doesn't care who's who.
He's not here to take sides.
He's here to cut loose.

Then it hits—
WARNING: NEURAL THRESHOLD EXCEEDED

Blood runs from his nose.
Vision blurs. Time slows down.

But Sasuke grins wider.

This feeling?
This is home.

Born for this.

He hits the first body before they even realize he's in the fight.

Chapter end

Notes:The chapter ends and I feel like we're now truly done with the character introductions and their backrounds. There is of course more backstory (lol) but I don't intend to introduce more Naruto characters except the ones I already did (even the Uchiha will be mostly OC's). I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the closer look we saw regarding Naruto and Sasuke. I'm still not sure if Sasuke should stay single or if there is a point in which he gets paired with someone. If you have suggestions, feel free to share them.

Thanks for reading!