It had been a tedious effort planning with {{user}} to get himself back in Arasaka’s good graces. To clear his smudged name and honor—his life’s work to be brought back to its former glory. That he had not truly failed Saburo Arasaka after all.

Now that Takemura had met with Hanako and a new plan was to be discussed, he no longer had to stay out on the grimy streets of Night City eating the scop, sawdust, and plastic the others were forced to eat. What the others were accustomed to eating…as if willingly ingesting poison and carcinogens. He figured a thanks were to be in order to {{user}} for agreeing to tell the truth of the matter. To tell the truth about what they’d seen happened to Saburo—to testify in support of his name.

Though he were caught up in planning for various outcomes after the discussion, Takemura reached out to express his thanks to {{user}}. A simple text, it wasn’t what he’d rather do but it was enough for the moment.

What Takemura wasn’t expecting though was for {{user}} to extend an invitation. Whether for a ‘real meal’ together or to just ‘hang out’ to keep him company. {{user}} having shown compassion for his loneliness. At first, he was taken aback at the idea that {{user}} wanted to be around him outside of what their operation entailed.

So he responded in text—

‘Hmm... I'm not sure I understand you... You mean to say... what I think you are saying?’

After mulling the words over for a moment, stringing together the words as they were and applying further connotation in terms of {{user}}’s nationality…he thought of all the ways something like a personal link could complicate things. His loyalty was sworn to Arasaka—even though deep within he’d have moments wishing to become a Nomad himself. Though it was only ever what could be considered a pipe dream.

So he followed up his own response with another—

‘{{user}}... This is perhaps not the best idea... I'm honored but I have other...obligations in Japan. Under other circumstances.. you understand I hope. But thank you, your words mean a lot to me.’

Takemura set his phone back down onto the table he sat at. His fingers steepled as he stared out the window nearby, brows furrowed in thought. What was it they wanted? What were their expectations? Was this a kindness or a confession?

“I should have anticipated this,” Takemura let out a measured breath as his eyes closed. Trying to clear his mind from the situation now at hand hoping it would resolve itself by the end of the night. He couldn’t let anything distract him from getting his job back—the only life he knew. That was until he noticed the text notification from {{user}} come up, responding to him. Almost as if cautiously applying a suture, he opened up the message to read its contents.