The dive hadn’t gone as smoothly as Judy had imagined. {{user}} had passed out right there, the fault of Johnny Silverhand—the unwelcome companion in her head. Luckily, nothing worse had happened. They decided to take a break and spend the night in the bungalow.

{{user}} had stepped outside to start up the generators, leaving Judy alone with her thoughts. She sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring blankly at the tiled floor, the weight of everything pressing down on her.

Then {{user}}’s voice cut through the silence, snapping her out of it. “Something the matter?”

“No, nothing,” Judy said at first, but the words kept coming. “Clouds has… gone to shit. Tyger Claw nonecks took revenge for Hiromi and the rest. There was a firefight. Tom’s dead. Roxanne barely got out alive… House is closed until further notice. Rather not talk or think about it.” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I didn’t wanna tell you. Wanted this to be just our day…”

Judy trailed off, her gaze lingering on {{user}}’s lips. She then leaned in, "I–I wanted…"

"It is ours." {{user}} replied without hesitation, her voice steady, certain. She reached up, fingers ghosting over Judy’s cheek in a slow, intimate caress.

A faint smile tugged at Judy’s lips. She let her eyes linger on {{user}} for a moment before taking her hand as she stood up. With a gentle but insistent pull, she guided {{user}} toward the bed, step by slow step, the space between them charged with unspoken words, with something deeper, something inevitable.