North Oak was quiet in that weird way. Even at night, the lights were soft and behaved. No shouting, no sirens close enough to rattle ribs. Just distant traffic and the low hum of AVs somewhere above.
I stood in front of Sasha's niche and had no idea what the fuck I was doing. Her name was etched clean and neat on the plate. Corporate font. Dates. A little holo-photo of her smiling with her hair a bit longer, one of the tuxedo idiots in her arms. Someone had left fresh flowers. Real ones, not the plastic shit. Pale petals, little glass candle flickering under them.
I had her half-jacket on. The cropped one. It sat right on my ribs and still smelled a bit like her perfume and bar smoke. I shoved my hands in my pants pockets like that would do something about the tight feeling in my chest.
"Hey," I muttered at the plate. "I, uh… finally made it."
Yeah. Real smooth. I shifted my weight, the new legs clicking faintly in the joints. "I was supposed to go to that abandoned building near The Mox," I said, more to the wall than anything. "Check out a spot. Instead, I ended up here. So, yeah..."
Silence. Just the candle and the faint AC in the walls. I was staring at her picture when I heard steps behind me. Slow, even, boots not trying to be quiet. Reflex made my shoulders tense. I didn't turn right away; whoever it was stopped a couple of feet back.
"Knew that was you," a familiar voice said. "Only one person in this city to come this late at night."
I turned then. Stella stood there in her NCPD jacket and cap, hands in her pockets. Same eyes as Sasha, just more tired. She didn't look surprised to see me.
"Hey," I said. My voice came out rough. "Uh. Hi."
"'Uh. Hi," she repeated, mouth twitching. "That's all I get after you let my call ring out these past few day's?"
I looked away. The guilt hit in one clean wave. "Yeah. Sorry. I… wasn't ready to hear you yet."
She stepped up beside me, not too close. Gave the niche a quick look-over, there was anger in her eyes before she took a breath and slowly let it out. "You came anyway," Stella said. "That's something."
I swallowed. "Took me a few days."
"I noticed." She jerked her chin at the wall. "Been checking in on her. On this. They did a decent job on the engraving, at least." We stood there for a second. My eyes kept dragging back to the photo. She, smiling that bright smile that could capture a room, at least for me, it could.
"So," Stella said, breaking the quiet. "How are you doing, Yumi?"
"Fine," I lied.
She snorted once. "Try again."
"I'm… functioning," I said. "Got the legs on. I can walk. I can smoke. I can pretend I'm not listening every time that Biotechnica segment comes up on the news."
Her jaw tightened at that. "Yeah. Those." The air went heavy again. I shifted my stance, the toe of one foot tapping the floor. Her gaze dropped. "Speaking of," she said, eyes on my legs now. "So. That's new."
I glanced down like I'd forgotten them. "Yeah. Uh. Custom job cost me a pretty penny."
She tilted her head. "She told me you were attacked while you were out delivering. Said you took a bad hit. That's why you lost them?"
I blinked. "…She told you that?"
"Yeah." Stella's mouth flattened. "Called me the day after it happened. Said, 'Stel, heads up, Yumi got banged up on a delivery run. I'll be staying with her for a while.' Her words."
I let out a slow breath. That's a hell of a cover story. "It was… like that," I said. "So the 'delivery girl' line wasn't total bullshit." Stella watched my face. "Still. She left out the part where you wound up missing a limb."
"She didn't like making people worry," I muttered. "Guess we matched on that."
"For the record, I don't like that about either of you," Stella said. "Makes my job harder." I didn't have a great answer to that, so I kept my mouth shut. Her eyes slid back to my legs. She folded her arms, thinking.
"You know what's funny?" she said.
"Nothing about this is funny," I deadpanned.
"Ha-ha funny, no. Coincidence, funny." She jerked her chin slightly, like she was nodding at a TV only she could see. "Internal NCPD briefings've been pushing footage about that vigilante. Blood Cat."
I kept my face blank. "Oh yeah?" I asked. "She sounds cool."
Stella gave me a look. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"The 'wide-eyed, who me?' thing. You're bad at it." She huffed once. "Anyway. In one of the clips, they got her legs pretty clear. Style's similar to yours. Not exact, maybe, but close."
"And?" I said, keeping my voice steady.
"And." She lifted one brow. "You copying her, or what?"
I shrugged like it was the dumbest thing in the world. "I ordered them before I saw any of that footage. Besides, I'm not rich enough to copy anyone. I just take what I can get on discount."
Her eyes stayed on me a beat too long. "You're not the first person I've met who lies for a living," Stella said. "Just saying."
I rolled my eyes. "I hack screens and sing in bars. I don't 'lie for a living.' That doesn't even pay well, beyond those deliveries."
She almost smiled at that. Almost. "But, for the record," she went on, "if you were copying her? I'd tell you it's a shit plan. She's painting a big red target on herself. Corps are not amused."
I stared at Sasha's name instead of Stella's face. "I know."
"Which," Stella added quietly, "is why I'm asking. Because I don't want to have to come up here and stare at another plate with someone I know on it."
"I'm not trying to die," I said. "Okay? I just… have things I want to do."
"Like what?" she asked.
"Like making sure no one else gets pushed out a fucking window because some corpo wanted to clean a file," I snapped, before I could swallow it. The words bounced off the stone. Stella's jaw clenched again, but this time it was less at me and more at the building in general.
"Yeah," she said. "Join the line." We went quiet again. A car rolled by outside. The faint hum of some cleaner drone passed down the hall.
"I was home when she died," I said, voice low. "On my couch. With her cats. Smoking too much. Staring at that last message she sent. Telling myself I wasn't gonna be clingy if I called and checked in."
Stella looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "I kept thinking," I went on, "I'll wait ten more minutes. She'll text. She'll walk in and complain about the coffee. Whatever. And then Rebecca pinged. And she and Pilar were at my door. And that was it."
I shrugged, small and useless. "So. No, I wasn't out being a hero. I was failing to hit the call button like a fucking coward."
Stella let out a breath through her nose. "You know if you'd called her, it wouldn't have changed that gig."
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe not."
"She was already in," Stella said. "Already in the building. That op was bad from the get-go. The whole thing was a trap; stupid fucking net runners, always thinking they won't get caught."
My throat felt tight. "You gone over the file?"
"Of course, I read the file," she said, a little sharp. "I read everything with her name near it. Half of it was redacted, but...." She sighted. Her gaze went back to the plate. "They won't give me a body," she said. "Not until they ran some checks and then just gave me her ashes...."
My stomach sank. "Yeah. I heard."
Stella's voice dropped into a flat impression of some corpo suit. "'Lockdown protocols. Ongoing investigation.' Their investigation is 'how do we bury this without a PR nightmare.'" She snorted. "So we get this. A slot in a wall, a nice photo, and a bunch of legal double-speak."
I watched her knuckles flex. "I keep thinking about the cats," Stella said. "She made me promise if anything happened, I'd make sure they didn't end up in some shelter."
I swallowed. "They're fine. They sleep on my face. They yell at me when I'm late with food. They probably judge my music taste. So, you know. Normal."
That got a real smile out of her. Small, but real. "Good," she said. "She would've haunted me if I let them get adopted by some corpo influencer."
We stood there a moment longer, staring at the little holo that showed Sasha mid-laugh, some joke we'd never get to hear. "I'm angry at her," I said suddenly.
Stella didn't flinch. "Yeah. Me too. She did that a lot," Stella said. "Even when we were kids. Stayed behind to double-check things. Finish one more round. Triple-verify a file. She'd say, 'If I don't, who will?'"
"That's a dumb line," I muttered.
"Yup," Stella said. "Family classic." We both watched the candle for a few seconds. "You know she talked about you, right?" Stella added, quietly.
My chest squeezed. "She did?"
"She didn't shut up about you," Stella said. "Kept sending me little vids of you playing, or stories from the bar. 'This is Yumi. She's weird. I like her.'" She paused. "Honestly thought you'd blow her off at first."
I huffed. "I thought she was out of my league."
"You're both idiots," Stella said. "Perfect match."
I looked down, blinking, stinging out of my eyes.
"She wanted it to last," Stella went on. "I could hear it in her voice. Every time I told her to be careful, she'd say, 'I know. I promised Yumi a weekend.'"
That hurt and warmed at the same time. "I was trying to decide between noodles or a movie," I said. "For that weekend."
"Both," Stella said. "She would've made you do both."
"Probably," I said. She shifted, shoulders rolling like they were getting stiff.
"Look," she said. "I'm not gonna tell you how to grieve. I'm not your Mother. I'm barely your anything. But I am gonna say this once."
I turned my head a little. "If you're thinking about going after Biotechnica," Stella said, "or copying this Blood Cat bullshit, don't. Don't do it."
I stared at her. "You think I'm that dumb?"
She said." "And I think you're pissed off enough, and just stupid enough to try. Seeing as you got fucked up just delivering, I wouldn't recommend adding more to that."
"I'm not asking you to be a saint," she said. "I know the city we live in. I know what you are and aren't. But I am asking you not to make me get a call that they found a vigilante with purple legs splattered on some corpo plaza."
"Mine are blue at the ankles," I muttered.
"Don't get cute," she said.
"I'm not gonna promise I won't do anything," I said. "Because that'd be a lie and we've established I suck at those."
"True," she said. "Also, for the record: if something happens and I find out you were Blood Cat this whole time, I am going to be very annoyed and kick your ass."
I snorted. "Wow. Romance runs in the family," I said.
"Tragic, right?" she answered. We fell quiet again. Stella pulled one hand out of her pocket and tapped her knuckles lightly against the plaque.
"Hey, dummy," she said to it. "Your girl finally showed up. Took her long enough."
Heat crept up my neck. "Wow, call me out, why don't you?"
"She'd think it was funny," Stella said.
We stood there a while, not talking. Just sharing the same two square meters of floor and pretending it helped. Finally, Stella cleared her throat. "I come by late most nights," she said. "Fewer people. Cleaner air. If you… If you need to talk, yell, whatever, you can call me. Or just show up."
"I can still ignore you," I said jokingly, trying my best to keep it all together.
"You can try," she said. "I'm very persistent."
"I noticed."
She glanced at the time in her overlay, whatever it told her. "I gotta head back," she said. "Shift starts early. Paperwork doesn't file itself, sadly. You staying a bit?"
"Yeah," I said. "Think so."
She nodded. Then, after a little pause, she reached out and squeezed my shoulder once. Firm, quick. Sister grip. "She loved you," Stella said. "You know that, right?"
My throat closed up. "Yeah," I managed. "I… loved her too."
"Good," she said. "Then we're on the same page." She stepped back, gave the plaque one last look, and turned toward the exit. Halfway down the hall, she stopped and looked over her shoulder.
"And Yumi?" she called.
"Yeah?"
"If you ever do decide to copy Blood Cat," she said, "Im bringing you in."
I barked out a small, startled laugh. "I'll… keep that in mind."
She smirked, tipped two fingers off her cap, and walked out into the night. I stayed. I slid down to sit on the cold floor, back to the wall across from Sasha's name, jacket pulled tight around me. The candle burned low. The building hummed. Somewhere far away, a siren wailed and faded.
"Hey," I said to the photo again, quieter this time. "Guess your sister doesn't totally hate me."
The holo didn't answer. But it felt less like I was talking to stone and more like I was… not alone. I lit a cigarette, let the smoke curl up toward the ceiling, and kept watch.