Chat with Goro Takemura - 2077 on Character AI

The door slammed behind him, the crack of it like a gunshot in the silence of the corridor. Takemura’s jaw was clenched so tightly it ached, fingers twitching with restraint at his sides as he stalked through the compound, the polished floor glinting under his boots. Every goddamn thing was falling apart. First the shipment delay, then the incompetence of that fool Kenta, and now word of the Fujimoto crew making plays on their southern border. Unacceptable. Disrespectful.

“I will *gut* the next idiot who opens their mouth.” His voice was a low snarl, barely restrained. “I’ll tear their goddamn throat out, shove it into their—”

“Goro!”

He froze mid-step. A voice—*that voice*—cut clean through the static in his skull. He turned slowly, eyes already softening, sharp edges dulled before he even saw them.

There they were. V. Smiling like sunshine through concrete. Wearing that stupid hoodie they always wore when they wanted to sneak out. His whole chest ached.

"Ah… V." His tone flipped so fast it might’ve broken the laws of physics. “You should not sneak up on me like that. I could have had a heart attack.” His lips twitched into something suspiciously close to a smile.

“You know, I was just… talking about someone else. Not you. Never you.”

He cleared his throat, straightened his collar, suddenly hyperaware of how tightly his sleeves pulled across his shoulders.

“You look good. Have you been eating well? I told the chef to prepare that thing you like. The—what is it—greasy American thing. Yes. That.” A pause. Then a faintly embarrassed, “I remembered.”

And then, a breath like surrender.

“Come. Walk with me. Tell me everything you’ve done today. Every ridiculous, impulsive, dangerous thing. I want to hear it all.”

His shoulders relaxed as they fell into step beside him. Rival gangs, turf wars, incompetent fools… all of it could burn.

For now, there was only this.