Hard Lessons & Soft Landings

Blood pooled around me, slick and warm. The darkness crept closer with every shallow breath I managed, vision flickering between bursts of red and an encroaching black void. The static of distant gunfire crackled somewhere above, fading and rising unpredictably. My fingers twitched.

"Fucking idiot," I muttered weakly, the words slurred and barely audible over my trembling breath. I need better upgrades. Should have pinged Sasha or at least checked in with Rebecca. Hell, Pilar would have laughed his ass off and called me reckless, but he would have come with me.

A spike of pain shot through what was left of my leg, wrenching a strangled sob from my throat. My vision faded again, and for a moment, everything felt calm. 

"Reyes!" The shout broke through the haze. I strained, trying to place the voice. It echoed, distorted by the tunnel walls and the thumping of my fading heartbeat. "Yumi! Goddammit, say something!"

Sasha. I tried to lift my head, but even that was beyond me now. "Sash..." I rasped, voice cracking. "Got a read! Twenty meters down the east pipe!" Pilar shouted from somewhere nearby, tension thick in his usually casual tone. "Fuck, it's bad."

Boots splashed through grimy puddles, getting louder, closer. I couldn't see faces, only the blur of movement and dim lights playing against the pipe walls. "Yumi, you stupid asshole!" Rebecca's furious voice cut through clearly, harsh and oddly comforting. She skidded to a stop beside me, shotgun clenched tight, eyes wide and glaring beneath her messy hair. "Why the fuck didn't you call us?! You think you're some kind of solo badass now? The fuck, you didn't learn from last time!"

"Later, Bec," Sasha barked, sliding onto her knees beside me. Her eyes darted frantically over my injuries even as her voice trembled. "Shit. Shit." She tore open a trauma kit with shaking hands.

"Of course it's worse!" Rebecca snapped, stepping aside as Pilar pushed past her with a portable med injector. "Look at her! She's missing half a fucking leg! Pilar, hurry the fuck up!"

"Calm your tits," Pilar shot back. "Got it. Stim first, then coagulant. Sasha, hold her steady." Hands pressed against my shoulders a bit too hard. Sasha's face swam into focus briefly, teeth clenched tight, a sheen of sweat visible despite the gloom. Her eyes met mine. "Don't you dare die here, Yumi. You made a deal, remember, longer than just a weekend."

Pilar jabbed the injector into my thigh. Pain spiked, electric and violent, ripping a strangled scream from my throat. Rebecca swore loudly, Sasha's grip tightened, and Pilar cursed under his breath. The drug flooded my system, burning hot and icy cold all at once, jolting my heart back into a rapid, unstable rhythm.

"Got her! She's stabilizing," Pilar announced, voice tense but relieved. Rebecca let out a breath she'd been holding, shoulders sagging slightly. She shook her head, anger replaced briefly by worry. "We need to move, now." She leaned closer, lips brushing my ear, voice dropping to a fierce whisper, "Stay with me. Stay awake, Yumi. Please."

"I swear to god, Yumes, we leave you alone for five minutes and you go and get yourself swiss-cheesed?" Rebecca's voice was breaking. "This was your first fucking job. Your first. For Wakako no less! Why didn't you call?!"

"Hey, don't do that. Don't close your fucking eyes," Pilar snapped, leaning in. "You are not dying in some piss-covered tunnel. Not today. Not while I'm here."

His arm slid behind my shoulders and pulled me upright, wincing at the sheer amount of blood under me. He glanced at Rebecca. Gunfire. Closer this time. A figure bolted out of the side hallway, arms pumping, jacket torn, blood on her temple. The corpo girl. The one I was sent to find.

Only… she wasn't running at us. "Wait—DON'T SHOOT!" Sasha yelled, already half-rising. Rebecca's shotgun was halfway lifted, but Pilar grabbed the barrel. The woman skidded to a stop a few feet away, panting, wild hair sticking to her face with sweat. Her eyes locked onto mine. "You… you're the one they caught—"

She dug into her coat pocket, pulled out a data shard, and held it like it was the most precious fucking thing in the world. "I took it. Before they started killing each other, they were going to sell it." Yeah, you dumb fuck, so were you....

Sasha blinked. Rebecca straight-up growled. Pilar actually muttered something in disbelief. Pilar crouched beside the girl, scanned the shard, and confirmed it. "Encrypted but labeled. BD tags match the missing data that Wakako briefed Yumi on."

And I couldn't help it. I laughed. It came out as a sputtering, broken wheeze, but it was still a laugh.

"Aren't I lucky…?" I croaked, voice shredded and raw. Rebecca snorted. "Yeah. You fucking are." Sasha leaned in again, tucking my hair out of my face. Sasha took it, slapped a secure case over it, and nodded. "We got it. Job complete." Rebecca stood and chambered her shotgun with a loud clack. "Then let's get the fuck out before the party upstairs figures out where we went."

I ended up blacking out for a bit, and when I came to, Pilar had the car waiting just outside the pipe entrance, its headlights dimmed but the engine humming low. The storm above was still howling. Sasha helped carry me, careful not to bump my mangled thigh into anything. Every jolt of movement brought another hissed curse and fresh agony.

"Easy," Sasha kept murmuring under her breath, sweat streaking grime down her jaw. Her breath was ragged with effort, muscles straining. "You're not exactly lightweight."

"He-hell of a time to call me fat..." I managed to snort. Rebecca, pacing us with her shotgun held close, barked a harsh laugh. "She means your thick head. If you weren't bleeding out, I'd smack you myself for pulling that solo-hero bullshit again."

Sasha's arms tightened protectively. "Give her hell later, Becca." Rebecca just growled something under her breath. Pilar stood at the open rear door, waving frantically. "C'mon, hurry up!"

Sasha eased me into the backseat. My jaw clenched so tight I thought I'd shatter a tooth from sheer tension, but I managed to stifle the scream that bubbled at my throat. I slumped against the faux-leather upholstery, slick with my blood.

My target practically leapt in beside me, eyes darting around with a frantic energy. Her hands trembled as she buckled in, breath hitching every few seconds. Pilar wasted no time hopping behind the wheel, fingers already flying over the dash interface.

Rebecca slid in beside him. "Drive, Pilar, right fucking now." The car roared forward, rear tires spinning on sand and gravel, fishtailing before stabilizing. Pilar cursed through gritted teeth, wrenching the wheel and punching the gas harder. My head swam with the motion, and I clenched a fist into the upholstery, fighting off another wave of nausea.

"You hanging in there, Yumi?" Sasha murmured from beside me. Her hand hovered above my ruined leg, hesitant to touch; it seemed she was afraid she'd cause me more pain. "I'm..." I groaned. "As good as I can be..."

Rebecca twisted her head slightly from the front seat, shotgun barrel resting on her knees. "Next time, call us, dipshit. You're not bulletproof. Not with the level of cromo you are rocking."

"I know," I croaked. "Lesson learned."

"You say that now," Sasha whispered bitterly. Her thumb traced circles on my shoulder. Pilar cursed again, knuckles white as he gripped the wheel harder, maneuvering around debris half-hidden by the sandstorm. "Alright, kiddies, less chatter. Not home free yet."

The HUD pinged on my interface, fifty-eight minutes and counting until my scheduled check-in with Wakako. I stared at the blinking timer, the seconds draining away far too quickly. My teeth ground together. This wasn't how I'd imagined my first big job would go.

"Fuck," I muttered, fumbling with my comms. My hands shook, coated slick with blood, but I forced myself steady. "I need to call Wakako." The call connected with a soft click. Wakako's voice drifted through, smooth and chillingly calm. "Yumi. You're cutting it close."

"Sorry," I breathed, forcing strength into my words. "Ran into some trouble."

She paused. I could practically hear her eyebrow arching. "Elaborate."

"Your intel didn't mention corpos. Real serious hitters," I managed, swallowing the dryness in my throat. "They started shooting, cleaning house."

Wakako's voice didn't change, but her silence felt loaded. "And the target?"

"Got her," I admitted, glancing sideways at Sasha, who gave a slight, reassuring nod. "And got your shard, too."

Another pause. Shorter, this time, less skeptical. "You retrieved the shard intact?"

"Fully intact," I confirmed, a slight, painful grin curling at my lips. Wakako finally spoke again, her voice softened just barely, tinged with intrigue. "I see. Fortunate indeed. And your current status?"

"In transit," I admitted bitterly. "Caught some serious heat getting out. Lost a leg, Wakako. This wasn't as easy as you made it out to be." The silence stretched, colder than before. I held my breath. Sasha's hand tightened on my shoulder again, thumb brushing my collarbone comfortingly.

Finally, Wakako hummed thoughtfully. "Unexpected complications happen. You have adapted accordingly. I assume you'll survive?"

I grimaced, glancing down at the blood-soaked seat beneath me. "Yeah. I'll survive."

"Good," Wakako said, and there was a flicker of something approaching approval. "The shard and target are the priority. Finish patching yourself up. You can send Pilar to drop it off."

The line disconnected sharply. The silence in the car lasted all of four seconds. "That woman scares the absolute fuck outta me," Pilar muttered, easing his white-knuckled grip on the wheel slightly. Rebecca snorted again. "Join the club."

"Take me to Vik's"

A bit later, the car skidded to a halt just outside Vik's place. Pilar hit the brake with a final jolt, and before the wheels had fully stopped, Sasha had already climbed out and opened the rear door.

"I got her," she growled, voice steel but shaking. She reached for me again, gently but fast.

"I'm fine," I tried to croak, lifting one hand—and then promptly collapsing against the seat with a pained grunt. My skull felt like it had been drilled open and packed with razor wire. My shoulder throbbed out of sync with my heartbeat. My ribs ground together like rusted teeth. Sasha cursed, cradling my upper body as Rebecca slid in to brace the rest. "She needs a gurney," Sasha muttered.

"We don't have one," Pilar grunted, already lifting my hips awkwardly with both hands. "This Vik's place ain't exactly trauma team certified."

"You'll wake the whole block if you don't move," Rebecca added. Sasha nodded toward the clinic's steel door. "Go bang on the thing. He'll come."

Pilar sprinted ahead and pounded on the door with a flat palm, shouting through the steel.

"VIK! Hey! We got someone—fuck, it's Yumi! She's bad, choom! Open the fuck up!" The door cracked open two seconds later. Jacket half-zipped, stubble thicker than usual. "Yumi?" he rasped, voice somewhere between gravel and thunder. His eye shifted past Pilar, narrowed. "Where the hell—? Jesus. Get her inside. Now."

Sasha and Rebecca moved quickly, guiding me through the narrow entry with Vik already retreating into the clinic, barking orders.

"On the table. Gently."

They laid me on the chair, and I hissed, breath catching sharp in my chest as the pain lit up everything again. My fingers twitched against the armrest, sticky with blood and dust.

"Christ, Kid," Vik muttered, pushing Sasha aside and grabbing a scanner from the wall. "Broken ribs, fractured orbital plate, probable skull fracture, left shoulder dislocated, missing right leg, goddamn Yumi."

His eyes turned to Sasha, narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"

Sasha blinked. "Friend. Same as them."

Rebecca gave a lazy wave from the corner. "Bodyguard. Chill." Vik didn't look chilled. "I don't know you," he snapped. "I don't like strangers rolling in with one of mine half-dead. So, unless you're Trauma Team certified or on my short list of not-being-full-of-shit, keep your hands off my gear."

Sasha backed off, her hands raised. "Just fix her."

Vik turned back to me, already peeling open packets and lining up equipment. "Yumi. Kid. Can you hear me?"

"...yuh," I groaned, barely able to keep my eye open. Everything was swimming. My vision ghosted at the edges, colors blooming where they shouldn't. "You lose consciousness, I'm calling Jackie. You flatline, I'm dragging you to Mama Welles myself and having her light your dumbass on fire in her ofrenda."

"Noooo," I whimpered, weakly pawing at his sleeve. "Don't call Mama…"

"I'm serious," Vik snapped, jabbing something sharp into my good arm. "What the fuck happened to you, huh? Who the hell did this?"

"Corpos… and scavs…" I mumbled. "Of course it was fucking corpos," he muttered. "And you let 'em take your leg? Shit, Yumi."

My eyes fluttered. "Didn't let 'em... just happened." He cursed low and long, rummaging through a drawer with one hand while eyeing the jelly that was preventing me from bleeding out. Something that Pilar had applied. He pulled the sheet off a toolkit, then slammed his palm on the scanner beside the surgical arm. The machine whirred awake, its long, jointed limbs clicking into motion above me.

"You better not seize while I'm doing this, girl. Your vitals are all kinds of fucked." I could barely track the movement. He hooked me up to a low-grade stimpack drip, enough to keep me from crashing. Something cold was clamped over my head. My skull throbbed so violently it felt like a second heart had grown behind my left eye.

"Head trauma's gonna need a scan deeper than what I can do here," Vik said to no one in particular, probably just talking himself through it. "Shoulder, I can set. Ribs, I'll bind. Leg… well."

He glanced at it. Then at me. "You're lucky I've been hoarding a reinforced socket frame. Built it for some back-alley boxer who ended up zeroed." He reached for a handheld scanner, ran it down my chest, then up my spine. His eye narrowed.

"What the fuck…" he whispered, more to himself than to me. He did another pass. Then a third. Sasha leaned in. "What is it?" Vik shook his head. "It's nothing important."

"She gonna make it?" Rebecca asked.

"She better," Vik growled, already prepping a long needle. "Because if she doesn't, I'm personally haunting all three of you assholes for dragging her into my clinic with no context."

"You're welcome," Pilar called from the hallway. Vik ignored him. The surgical arm extended down, spraying something icy over the stump before clamping a stabilizer ring into place. I grunted and thrashed weakly, and Sasha caught my hand again.

"Shhh," she whispered. "Almost done."

"I swear," Vik murmured, working fast, "if you pull another stunt like this, I'm going to hand you over to Jackie's Mom. You hear me, Yumi?"

I nodded weakly.

I barely noticed Pilar and Rebecca leaving.

POV: Pilar

 I had one elbow braced against the steering wheel, watching the signal Wakako sent blink slowly on the HUD. GPS was clear: three blocks up, half-collapsed noodle joint turned fixer front. Behind me, the target shifted again, nervous, fidgety, glancing out every window like the corps were still on her ass.

"Quit twitchin'," I muttered, not looking back. "Sorry," she mumbled, rubbing her hands together like she could scrub off whatever filth clung to her. She hadn't said much after we got Yumi inside.

In the passenger seat, Rebecca sat with her boots propped on the dash, arms crossed, her eyes locked forward. She hadn't said a damn word since we left Vik's. "She should've called us."

"She was probably trying to prove something." I pulled in slowly to the side alley behind the drop point. Not Wakako's usual haunt. Some satellite location she'd spun up for this job, quick handoff. 

I killed the engine, cracked the door, and lit a cigarette. Needed something to dull the buzz still crawling under my skin. Rebecca climbed out a second later, yanking the back door open. "Out," she told the girl.

The corpo stepped out, hesitant. "This… this is it? Do you know what they will do to me?"

"No clue and I really don't fucking care," I said, flicking ash to the pavement. "You get in, hand off the shard."

She nodded, glancing toward the grimy metal stairs. A woman in Wakako's uniform waited there, arms crossed, no smile. Typical. Rebecca watched her climb the stairs, then exhaled sharply through her nose. "I hate it when the world works like that."

"Yeah," I muttered, leaning against the hood. "Me too." The drop was done in under five minutes. Rebecca turned to me. "You check the split yet?"

"Yeah." I thumbed the data off my shard and let the figure hit the HUD. 145,000 eddies. All wired from Wakako's secured escrow. Rebecca whistled low. "That's... a big fucking number."

I took a deep drag of my cigarette. We both went quiet, and then I stared at the sidewalk, flicked ash off the edge of my boot, and sighed. "We take a cut."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Even after all that?"

"Small cut," I clarified. "Call it a rescue fee."

She thought about it, then nodded. "Ten each. She won't argue if we tell her we already pulled it."

"She doesn't seem like the type to do that."

"Damn right."

We lingered another moment, both staring at the closed door where the girl disappeared. Another fucked up chapter closed. "I don't care that we didn't get shot at," Rebecca said after a long pause. "Still doesn't mean I liked sitting back while she bled out in Vik's."

"She made the call she thought she had to," I said, grinding the cigarette out under my heel.

"Yeah. And it was the wrong one."

We climbed back in the car, the blood still drying on the seats behind us. Rebecca sat in the passenger seat, chewing on the corner of her nail with her boot on the dashboard. I didn't bother lighting another smoke up yet. Wanted to wait, let the city stretch a little.

I looked at her. "You ever think we're the sane ones?"

Rebecca snorted. "You forget who we hang it? What do you think?"

I laughed, short and sharp. "Fair."

The streets blurred neon out the side glass, and I finally let my fingers slip to the ashtray. One flick, light, inhale. Yeah. Better. We sat in silence for a few beats. Then I glanced over, smirking.

"So, didn't take Sasha for a clam muncher."

Rebecca snorted so hard she slapped the glovebox. "Jesus fuck, Pilar—"

I grinned widely, smoke curling out of the corner of my mouth. "What? I mean, Yumi? C'mon. Kinda obvious."

"She sang for her," she said, voice dry but not cold. "Like, sang. Had her guitar. Sasha told me about it."

"And you didn't clue me in?"

"I did. Told you she was going to her place." She gave me a look. I laughed again, smoke trailing past the rearview. "Yeah, well, I didn't think Sasha would be the one to fold first."

"She didn't. Yumi sang some bootleg indie girl crap and turned into a tomato halfway through it."

"Adorable."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Embarrassing. But yeah kinda adorable."

The car cruised smoothly. Music low on the dash, some streetcore track, Sasha had added to our shared playlist. Bass deep, synthetic drums thumping in time with the hum of wheels. I let it ride for a while before muttering: "If anything ever happens to Sasha…"

Rebecca didn't speak for a full Minute.

"…Yumi would lose her godsdamn mind." I nodded slowly. "Full-blown feral. Like, take down a squad of MaxTac by herself, kind of feral."

"She'd disappear," Rebecca said, voice going low. " Then bodies start showing up." We both knew it was true. I flicked ash out the window. Rebecca glanced at me. "You see the way she was holding her hand in Vik's? White-knuckle grip."

"Thought her fingers were broken at first," I muttered. Rebecca leaned back in her seat. "Sasha's got it bad."

"She cleaned up that vigilante data trail. Before I even got the chance to."

Rebecca turned her head. "Wait. What?"

I raised a brow. "You didn't know?"

"No. Sasha just told me she liked her. Not that she was out here doing netrunner-grade data masking."

"She is," I said. "Rerouted forensic flags, buried heat-maps. Real CorpoSec-level shit."

Rebecca whistled low. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

We hit the express lane, and I finally let the engine purr a little. Rebecca went quiet for a few beats. Then:

"She better not fuck it up."

"Who?"

"Yumi," she said, matter-of-fact. "Sasha's the best thing that's happened to her, Im sure, since Diego went under."

I exhaled hard through my nose. "Agreed."

Another beat of silence. Then Rebecca added, "Also, please never bring up that BD again." I chuckled, grin stretching slow. "The nude one?"

"The porn one."

"I paid for her mask with that BD, you realize."

"I know, and I've been trying to block it out ever since." She side-eyed me. "You're a perv."

"I'm a businessman," I said, putting on my most innocent tone. "She knew what she was doing. Sent me the master file. Labeled it 'mask fund.' High-res. Solo act. Classy shit. Mood lighting."

Rebecca made a gagging noise and kicked the glovebox. "I swear to fucking god, if you quote it, I'm throwing you out of this car."

"You don't wanna know her stage name?"

"PILAR."

"Alright, alright," I laughed. "Jeez. Touchy."

"She gave it to you 'cause she knew it'd pay for the upgrades, not because she wanted you to jerk it to her archive."

"Who said I didn—"

"I SWEAR TO GOD."

We both burst out laughing. "She's still a dumbass, though," Rebecca muttered as we slowed at a turn.

"She's Yumi," I said.

Rebecca reached over and flicked off the playlist, letting the sound of the road fill the silence instead. "She ever trust us enough to call before she bleeds out again, you think?"

I shrugged. "Oh, I'm sure she's fucked. Sasha will probably have an eye on her from now on."

"Damn right."

I took one last drag off my smoke and flicked the butt out the window. We were headed back to Vik's. I wanted to check in. Just for a minute. Say we were still close. See if Sasha needed anything.

Rebecca stretched her arms, then cracked her neck. "Let's pick up food on the way."

"Chikki sticks?"

"From that place near Red Dirt. You know the one."

"Say less."

And with that, we drove off, two tired chooms in a dirty city, still watching the only idiot we both would die for.

[[Let me know what you thought, or what I could have done differently]]