Eidolon

The talk

As Karasu let Rei to his booth, the club’s neon lights fractured across her face; blue, then violet, then red. She presented a new tool in his arsenal. She was severely malnourished, but her beauty was unmistakable. With some proper food and sleep she would doubtlessly rival even the prettiest of the hostesses. For the first time in years, Karasu wondered if he’d just made a mistake. He sat down in his both and Jin settles across from him, gesturing for Rei to sit beside him. She didn’t move closer. She stayed a few steps away eyeing the exit, arms folded, sending her farther a look that most would have shied away from. Jin swallowed audibly. Meanwhile rain drummed against the club’s windows like a thousand tiny fists.

Karasu gestured to the empty seat beside her farther, “Sit.” She didn’t, “Thanks, but I’d prefer to stand… you don’t give orders yet right? Or have you decided if I’m yours?” A ripple of amusement crossed his face, though his blue eyes stayed sharp. Jin started to snap, “Rei, just do what—” but Karasu silenced him with a raised hand. “She’s right,” Karasu admitted. He took a drag from his cigarette, exhaled slowly, then tapped the ash into the tray, “First, prove to me you’re worth the trouble.” Rei bid her bottom lip, then walked toward him, boots echoing softly against the shiny floor. She slid into the booth on the seat next to Karasu, her chin raised, eyes steady, “What do you want me to prove?”

Karasu turned towards her calmly, his challenging charisma rolling of him in waves, “That you’re not a liability. Liabilities bleed me dry.” She blinked but smirked faintly, “Like my father?” Jin flinched, but Karasu only leaned forward, intrigued, “Sharp tongue. Dangerous, if you don’t learn when to cut and when to keep the blade hidden.” Rei leaned in, mirroring his posture, their faces only inches apart, “Then teach me. You’re the one holding the knife, aren’t you?” For the first time, Karasu let out a quiet laugh, low and warm but edged with steel, “Not bad”. He turned his head slightly toward Jin, who was shrinking into the seat in front of them, “She already understands leverage better than you.” Jin looked down at the table, shame burning in his face.

Karasu stubbed out his cigarette, the ember dying with a hiss. His voice dropped lower, just for Rei, “When you work for me, you get three things: protection, purpose, and enemies. If you can stomach all three, then you’ll earn more than your father ever could.”

Rei didn’t hesitate, “Fine. I’m in.” Karasu tilted his head, studying her. No fear. No begging. Just a quiet, defiant hunger. He almost saw himself at her age – waiting in the shadows of the fight pits, wondering if being used was better than being forgotten. “Then welcome to the game,” he said finally, his smile razor-thin, “But understand this – if you betray me, I won’t treat you like your father treated you. I won’t ignore it. I’ll end it.” Rei didn’t waver, “Good. I wouldn’t respect you if you didn’t.”

For a moment, they simply stared at one another, a silent contract sealing itself between them in the haze of the Den. Karasu leaned back, lit another blue cigarette, and blew smoke toward the ceiling. His eyes never left Rei. The booth’s golden velvet seat creaked as Karasu leaned back, fume winding around his face like a halo of bad premonitions. Across from him, Rei sat perfectly still, her hands flat on the table – no fidgeting, no tells. Just those unreadable black eyes. Jin squirming, sweat gluing his cheap shirt to his back. Karasu didn’t look at him. His gaze stayed locked on Rei. He tapped ash into the dragon ashtray, “If she works for me exclusively, contract-bound, and begins paying of your debt monthly, then I’ll help you disappear. If she fails to deliver or you make any kind of trouble – there will be… dire consequences for both of you.“

The silence after Karasu’s threat hung thick in the booth. Rei’s expression didn’t falter. Jin, sweating and miserable, saw an opening. He cleared his throat, a wet, nervous sound. “So… we’re square?” Karasu’s gaze remained locked on Rei. He tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. “Aoi,” he said, his voice barely raised above the club’s murmur.

As if summoned from the darkness itself, the massive form of Aoi materialized beside the booth. He was a mountain of a man, his bald head reflecting the neon lights, the intricate dragons and tigers tattooed on his powerful arms shifted in the dimness. He stood with an immovable silence, his presence a sudden, palpable pressure. Jin flinched, withdrawing back into the booth’s cushions.

Karasu finally turned his head, his azure blue eyes cool and dismissive, “Our client Jin here requires a swift and discreet exit from Mirage City. Arrange it. The southern route. First mag-lev to the coastal free-port. See that he has five hundred Fund Units for a… fresh start.” He flicked a glance at Jin, the meaning clear. A one-time payment. Don’t squander it. “Do everything Aoi says, no exceptions,” Karasu finished, his tone leaving no room for discussion, “And never come back.” Jin’s shoulders sagged in a guttering wave of relief. He scrambled to his feet, bowing repeatedly, his movements jerky, “Thank you, Komorebi-san! I can never thank you enough, I’m forever in your debt” Rei pulled her arms under the table, her hands balling up. “You are,” Karasu agreed flatly, “- and your daughter is the collateral.”

The reminder hung in the air. Jin turned to Rei, his face a mess of guilt and desperate hope. He took a hesitant step toward her, “Rei… baby… thank you. You’ll see. This is… this is for the best. You’ll be safer here.” He reached a trembling hand out, as if to touch her shoulder. Rei didn’t look at him. Her arms crossed, her profile a stark, unyielding line against the vibrant chaos of the club. She focused her gaze on some distant point, seeing nothing. Her silence was a void, more absolute than any outright rejection. Jin’s hand hovered in the air for a moment before falling limp at his side. The hope in his eyes flickered and died, replaced by a shame so profound it seemed to shrink him. He gave a weak, awkward nod to no one in particular.

Aoi’s hand, heavy as a slab of granite, settled on Jin’s shoulder. “This way,” he rumbled. Jin allowed himself to be turned, a broken man being led away. He shot one last, fleeting glance over his shoulder at his daughter – a look of part guilt, part futile hope – but Rei didn’t turn her head, her black eyes now meeting Karasu’s, utterly dismissing the man who had sold her. Aoi guided Jin through the smoke and pulsating light, past the glowing bar and the whispering hostesses, toward a plain, reinforced door near the back of the club, far from the main entrance. Jin shuffled, head down. The door opened by Aoi revealed a glimpse of a rain-slicked alley. He ushered Jin through with a firm, final push. The door slammed shut with a heavy, definitive thud that cut off the sound of the city and sealed the fate of Rei Morita.

The silence he left behind in the booth was louder than his pleading had been. It was a vacuum, filled only by the distant throb of the electric jazz and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of Rei’s breathing. Karasu took a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing like a malevolent eye in the dimness, his gaze fixed entirely on the girl he now owned. He did not immediately speak. He finished his cigarette, the blue smoke a final, contemptuous farewell to the man who had just sold his daughter. He crushed the stub into the enamel ashtray, the dragon seeming to swallow the ember whole. His eyes, the color of a cloudless Aurora Cliffs’ sky, remained fixed on Rei.

She hadn’t moved. She sat beside him in the golden velvet booth, a stark, still figure against the opulent shadows. The glow from the club’s interior played over her – catching the fiery strands of her crimson hair, deepening the obsidian pools of her eyes. She was watching the space where her father had vanished, but her expression wasn’t one of loss or betrayal. It was assessment. As if she were calculating the structural integrity of a collapsed bridge she’d just been forced to cross.

“You didn’t say goodbye,” Karasu said, his voice a cavernous murmur that cut through the music. Rei’s gaze slid from the door to him. There was no hesitation, no flicker of emotion. “There was nothing left to say,” she pushed a stray lock of hair back behind her left ear. “Because he sold you,” Karasu stated it flatly, a test. “He sold a burden and solved a problem,” Rei corrected, her voice as cool and steady as his.

A slow, genuine smile touched Karasu’s lips, a rare crack in his controlled facade. It wasn’t a kind smile; it was the smile of an investor who had just found a uniquely flawed, rare and fascinating artifact, “You see the board clearly for someone who just became a piece on it.” Her eyes swept over the club – the hostesses with their manufactured laughter, the clients with their hungry eyes, the shadowy corners where secrets were traded, “Aren’t we all pieces? The main difference is who’s moving me. Same game, same moves, new handler. “

Karasu leaned forward, resting his elbows on the lacquered table. The scent of sandalwood and his distinctive blue tobacco clung to him, “The game is power. Everything else is a path to it, or a distraction from it. The secrets I trade, the fights I fix, the blackmail I hold… it’s all currency. And now, you will learn to be a counterfeiter.” Rei listened attentively, a spark lighting in her eyes, “By lying? Stealing secrets?”

“By becoming a secret yourself,” he said, his voice dropping, intimate and conspiratorial, “A person who is never quite what they seem. The most valuable secrets aren’t in data chips, Rei. They’re in the unguarded moments between people. A sigh after a third drink. A hesitation before a handshake. The way a man’s eyes linger on a woman.” He let the implications hang in the smoky air between them. It was a challenge, and he watched to see if she would take it. Rei’s lips twitched, the outline of a cynical smile, “So you want me to be a hostess? To flirt and pour drinks and laugh at boring jokes?”

“I want you to be a weapon,” Karasu countered, his gaze intense, “First you need to be sharpened. Then, being a hostess is just the sheath. The blade is your mind. Your ability to listen, to observe, to make a man feel like he is the most important person in the world, just long enough for him to forget that the world is full of enemies. Starting with me.”

He reached into his vest pocket and drew out a fresh blue cigarette. He didn’t light it immediately, instead rolling it slowly between his fingers, “Your father saw a desperate escape. I see… potential. But potential is worthless until it is forged. You are malnourished, unrefined and transparent in your disdain. All of that must change.” For the first time a flash of worry travelled across her face, “What if I don’t change into what you wanted?” Her tone was more curious than defiant.

Karasu finally lit the cigarette he had been holding, the flame illuminating the sharp planes of his face for an instant. He exhaled a cloud that curled like a question mark between them, “Then you will change again or become a liability. And I have already told you what happens to liabilities.” He paused, letting the threat settle. Karasu slid out of the booth and stood up, a fluid, powerful motion that dominated the space around the booth. He looked down at her, a king in his sinister court, “I’ll take you to your room. You will eat what you are given. You will sleep. Tomorrow, your education begins. You will learn everything from how to walk in heels, to self-defense, how to recall everything and how to extract corporate secrets.” Rei rose to her feet, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. She was thin, fragile-looking, but her stance was unwavering. Karasu took a long drag, his sky-blue eyes glinting with a possessive, calculating light, “Your first lesson is to understand that from this moment on, every breath you take, every word you speak, belongs to me. Your freedom is a debt. And I am your creditor.” The bassline shuddered through the floor. He gestured toward a door at back of the club, “Let’s go.”

Rei held his gaze for a heartbeat longer, a silent acknowledgment of the new chains that bound her. Then, without another word, she turned and walked toward the door at the back, her steps firm on the polished tile. Karasu walked up in front of her, his long legs and resolute pace making him considerably faster. Rei followed, keeping just half a step behind him, close enough to hear orders, far enough not to crash into him, if he stopped suddenly. He led her past the dance floor, where real life performers moved together with holographic dancers flickering in and out of existence, their bodies dissolving into static. Up a narrow staircase, the air grew thicker with the scent of old wiring and sandalwood incense. Upstairs was a different world from the club’s decadent facade. The hallway was plain, lit by a single, cold LED strip, the walls painted a practical off-white. It smelled faintly of disinfectant and laundry. Once in front of a door at the end of the hall a retinal scanner blinked red, then green at Karasu’s approach. He turned the handle and the door hissed open.

“Welcome to my home – and now yours”, he said matter-of-factly. His apartment was a study in controlled chaos. Neat but small, every surface utilized. A sleek katana hung on the wall beside a fluorescent tube rendition of Chochin’s skyline. The kitchen to the left was spotless, save for a single sake glass drying on the counter. In front of the room was a dining table, at the back and worn couch and a television. Rei hovered in the doorway, assessing, before stepping in cautiously.

“Guest room’s there”, Karasu nodded to a sliding door to the right of the sofa, barely wider than a closet. He walked over and slid it open. The room was small and sparse, but clean. A single bed with a plain blanket was pushed against one wall. A simple velvet armchair stood in the corner. A small, high window looked out onto the flickering neon signs of Chochin Row, painting the room in pulses of electric blue and crimson. “The bathroom is the first door on the left after the kitchen. It’s shared. You’ll find a towel and a new toothbrush in the cabinet. Second door after the kitchen is my bedroom, it’s off-limits.”, Karasu said, stepping aside to let her enter the guestroom. He didn’t follow her in but remained a silhouette in the doorway. Rei walked in, her arms wrapped around herself. She didn’t look at the bed and stepped over to the window. Standing there staring out at the rain-blurred city. Her hair seemed to absorb the neon light, glowing like embers.

“You’re not a maid, but you’ll keep the place clean. And you’ll cook when needed,” Rei arched an eyebrow, “You trust me near your food?” Karasu gave a cruel laugh, “Poison me and you lose your best shot at climbing out of the gutter.” He tossed her a keychip. It landed in her palm with a quiet click, “Use this until we get your retinal scan fixed.” A beat. Then the ghost of a smirk touched Rei’s lips. Karasu turned toward the window too, observing the watercolor of neon and shadow. Beside him Rei’s stomach rumbled. Karasu watched her for a moment, his sharp features unreadable. Then he turned, “Wait in the living room, I’ll get us some food.”

He returned not long after, carrying a brown paper bag stained with grease. The scent of steamed buns, soy, and ginger filled the small room, a stark, homely contrast to the club’s perfumed air below. He placed the bag on the small dining table, “From the Dim Sum house next door. Let’s eat.” He sat down, pulling out another blue cigarette but not lighting it yet. He rolled it between his fingers, a habitual gesture. Rei started unpacking the food, wetting her lips. “Tomorrow, your life changes. There will be no more running from debt collectors… or scavenging for meals.”, Rei paused her unpacking, eyes darting to him. Then she sat down and separated a pair of bamboo chopsticks. Karasu’s tone hardened as he continued, ”But there will be no idleness, either.”

Rei looked up, a dumpling hovering between her chopsticks, then took a bite. Her face, pale and sharp, was guarded even while eating. “A tight schedule awaits you,” Karasu said, his sky-blue eyes pinning her in place, “In the mornings, you will learn from Yuri and the other hostesses. How to speak, how to walk, how to listen. How to make a man melt”, he paused, letting the implication sink in, “In the afternoons, you will train with one of my guards. Basic self-defense. How to disarm an opponent. How to run. How to fight dirty if you have to.”

He unbuttoned his vest and picked up his own chopsticks, getting comfortable. His energy shifted and his presence suddenly filled the small room with a new warmth, “You are an investment, Rei. I intend to see a return. That means you will eat what you are given, sleep when you are told, and learn everything my people teach you. Is that clear?”

Rei’s black eyes met his. There was no fear, only a weary defiance, “Crystal.” A flicker of something – approval, perhaps – crossed Karasu’s face. He started eating, bending forward to pluck dumplings. The overhead lighting illuminated the metal threads in his hair in flashes. The food was hot, flavorful, the first real, warm meal she’d had in days.

After dinner Karasu lit a cigarette, “Clean this up and then get some rest. The quiet ends at dawn.” With that, he turned and left, entering his bedroom and pulling the door shut behind him. Alone, Rei sat for a long moment, listening to the distant thrum of the club and the relentless tap of rain against the window. The scent of the takeaway food was a tangible presence. She started to clean up, getting to know the kitchen. She found the trash bin under the sink, put the leftovers on a shelf in the empty fridge, showered and went to her room. Hanging her towel over the door of her empty closet, she crawled into the small bed, drifting into sleep, preparing herself for the storm of her new life to begin.

Aoi shipping Jin away

The reinforced back door slammed shut, cutting off the thrum of The Electric Dragon Den and plunging Aoi and Jin into the sudden, damp quiet of the alley. Rain fell in a fine, cold mist, soaking into Jin’s threadbare jacket. He shivered, but his face, despite the fresh bruises, was alight with a guttering, desperate elation.

“You’re really going to get me out,” Jin mumbled, more to himself than to the silent giant beside him. Aoi said nothing, merely gesturing with a tilt of his head toward a nondescript black car idling in the shadows. Inside the car, the silence was broken only by the swish of the wipers and Jin’s nervous chatter as they navigated the neon-washed routes of Mirage City toward the mag-lev terminal.

“Please understand,” Jin began, twisting his hands in his lap, his eyes pleading for an absolution Aoi had no interest in giving, “I couldn’t take care of her. Not anymore. The debts… the people after me… she wasn’t safe on the streets, but even less with me. This way, she has a roof, food… protection. Komorebi is a powerful man. This was for the best. For her. For me. For everyone.” Aoi drove, his gaze fixed on the road, his massive hands resting lightly on the wheel. The tattoos on his arms were still in the blurred light. He offered no comment, no judgment, his silence a wall against Jin’s torrent of self-justification.

At the terminal, Aoi moved with quiet efficiency. He purchased a one-way ticket to the coastal free-port, pressed a small pouch containing five hundred Funding Units into Jin’s hand, and guided him through the sparse crowds to the correct platform. The mag-lev hummed on the tracks, a sleek silver bullet waiting to deliver Jin to his anonymous future. “Upon arrival,” Aoi’s voice was a low rumble, his words precise and economical, “go to this address”, he handed Jin a slip of paper, “A cybernetic cosmetic shop. They will change your appearance and provide new identity documents. Do not linger. Do not contact anyone from your past. Your old life is over.”

Jin took the paper, his fingers trembling. The reality of his escape was finally settling in, and with it, the full weight of what he had done. The elation was fading, replaced by a gut-wrenching hurt.

It was then that Aoi spoke again, his tone not unkind, but brutally direct, “I am a father myself,” he said, his dark eyes finally meeting Jin’s, “I understand the need to believe the story. The one where you are the savior, making the hard decision that needed to be made”, he paused, letting the words hang in the damp air between them, “But you did not place her in a boarding school. You sold your daughter’s life to a ruthless ambitious man. Komorebi-sama may have more moral code in his own way than many in his business, but he does not run a charity. Remember that.”

Jin paled, his body trembling slightly. The last of his defensive narrative crumbled, leaving only the raw, ugly truth. Tears welled in his eyes, “Aoi-san… please. Just… can you send me pictures? Of how she’s doing? I won’t ever try to come back. I won’t claim her. I just… I need to see she’s okay. That she’s getting enough to eat. That she’s alive. She’s… she’s better off than with me, I know that, but.” His voice broke on the last word. Aoi looked at him, his expression impassive. For a long moment, it seemed he would simply turn and walk away, leaving Jin with nothing but his guilt. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached into his coat and pulled out a cheap, disposable comm-unit.

“This is a one-way device,” Aoi said, his voice low, “You cannot contact me. I will send a photo. Occasionally. Perhaps once a year. Do not expect regularity. And I may stop.” He pressed the comm into Jin’s hand, “I understand a father’s need to see his child. I would feel the same if, for some messed-up reason, someone else took care of my son.”

The mag-lev’s doors hissed open. Aoi placed a firm hand on Jin’s back and guided him inside. Jin turned, tears now streaming freely down his face, his mouth working to form words. “Thank you,” he whispered, a broken, choked sound.

Aoi said nothing more. He simply reached out and slammed the train door shut. The sound was a final, metallic period. Through the glass, Aoi watched as Jin slumped into a seat, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs as the mag-lev glided smoothly away into the rain-streaked night, carrying a dead man to his rebirth.