Eidolon

Warning! (PG18)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

Advanced Lessons

The club’s back office smelled faintly of whiskey and smoke, neon slashes of violet and blue casting long shadows across the worn yet sleek furniture. Karasu leaned forward, seizing the bottle on his desk and poured two glasses of amber spirit, the liquid catching the low light from his desk lamp. His private commsbeside him beeped. He had just picked it up when the soft click of the door announced Rei’s arrival. He didn’t look up immediately, finishing reading the message. When he finally looked, the comms stilled in his hand. He didn’t let a flicker of the internal shift cross his face. His expression remained one of cool, analytical assessment, giving away nothing as his eyes traveled from the tips of her heels to the determined set of her jaw.

Rei stood framed in the doorway, the muted sounds of the club a distant hum behind her. For a moment, the air seemed to leave the room. The orange of her dress was a masterstroke, a color that didn’t just complement her hair but turned the fiery strands into a crown. The cut was perfect, clinging to the new curves of her body, the high slit a bold, intelligent tease. But it was her face that truly arrested him. She had painted herself not as a girl, but as a woman. The smoky, knowing eyes, the severe line of the kohl, and the profoundly red lips that were a direct, unspoken quote from one of the women he occasionally favored. His first, primal thought was a surge of pure, unadulterated appreciation. She had not just dressed up; she had conducted meticulous research, studied the aesthetics he found compelling and replicated them with a precision that was both flattering and intriguing. The care she had taken was a message in itself: I see you. I absorb. I act.

Rei stepped inside, her heart hammering in a rhythm that was almost delight, almost panic. Karasu was seated in the high-backed chair behind his desk by the window, Chochin buzzing behind him. His pale eyes tracked her as she closed the door. There was something in the way he leaned back, casual, yet undeniably alarming, that made her stomach twist. “You asked for the advanced lesson,” he said softly, “You’re brave, Rei. Or maybe reckless.” He set down his comms. “Brave and determined,” she corrected, trying to sound firm. “You followed instructions, you look stunning,” he said, his voice betraying none of the heat that had ignited in his chest. He gestured toward the velvet chair across from him, “Sit down.” Rei perched at the edge; hands folded neatly in her lap. Karasu studied her, the way the light played across her hair, the flush already creeping into her cheeks.

He grabbed the glasses, using the movement to bury the unsettling realization that this girl, this investment, wasn’t just learning the game; she was beginning to understand the player. And in that understanding, she was becoming more valuable and her proximity riskier. He stood, moving with the fluid precision of someone who knew exactly how to dominate a room without trying. “Now, control the space. Own it. Even if you’re nervous”, he murmured, coming closer, leaving the two drinks on the far end of her side of the table, already disinterested in them.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the chair, as he stopped in front of her, just inches away, the heat of his body pressing subtly against hers. He sat down across from her on the table, his knees only almost touching hers. She inhaled the whiskey and smoke drifting off Karasu, tangling with the stir in her chest. “Remember, touches and looks are a dialogue,” he said as his hand brushed lightly against hers, “Start communicating.” Rei followed his lead, tracing a finger along his wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath the surface. His thumb stroked her knuckles, just enough to make her pulse spike. She realized with a start that her chest was tight, her knees weak. She was not in control here, he was. Karasu’s smirk deepened, “You hesitate. Why?”

“I… I want to do it right,” she admitted, voice barely a whisper. “Loosen up,” he said, his voice low, almost a rumble, “Don’t be afraid to feel it.” He leaned in, his cheek brushing hers. His mustache tickled her skin before his lips traced the hollow of her throat, the touch soft but undeniably intimate. Rei took in a sharp breath. Her hands wanted to roam, but she froze, caught between instinct and training. “Touch me,” he dared, his hand moving to rest lightly against her hip, “Show me the rhythm. Don’t just react.”

Her fingers hesitated, then grazed his chest, tentative, moving lower, testing. Karasu’s chest rose under her fingertips, and his face told her she had done more than mimic. She felt herself seduced, caught in an excitement that was no longer about acting. His lips hovered just above her neck, and when he pressed a soft, mischievous kiss there, her eyes fluttered closed. A low moan escaped her, startling even her own composure. She was losing herself, enjoying it, maybe too much, the lines between practice and desire blurring. She placed her hand behind his neck and pulled herself up, pushing him back against the desk, standing flush against him.

Karasu stood still for a heartbeat, then pulled back, stepping away. “Enough”, he said firmly, tone sharp enough to startle her, “Go to the apartment.” Rei’s chest heaved as she stood, her fingers brushing at the trembling edge of her dress. “But…”, Her face was flushed, eyes wide, mind busy with the realization of how close she had come to losing control. “No discussion”, he continued, voice calmer now, but tension coiled in his shoulders, “You’ve got a long way to go, before you can maintain real composure.”

Her legs shook faintly as she walked toward the door. She dared a glance back. Karasu was still there, watching, calculating, his expression unreadable. Her chest tightened, not fear, not embarrassment, but a pleasure that lingered. She closed the door behind her, pressing a hand to her chest. She had learned. But she had also felt something real, something she hadn’t expected. And she knew one thing for certain: next time, she would need to be more aware and even braver.

In the days that followed, Rei tried to request another session, her determination fueled by the memory of her own failure. “Not yet,” Karasu would say, not looking up from his ledger or his data-slate, “Your performance on the main floor is still inconsistent. Handle a drunk financier without needing the ring, then we’ll talk.” It was a logical, infuriatingly practical excuse. Karasu was building walls. The sight of her, undone and vulnerable under his focused attention, had stirred something in him that was far more dangerous than simple professional interest. It was a possessive, genuine attraction that complicated his cold calculus of power and debt. He needed distance to suppress it, to re-establish the boundaries she was so dangerously blurring.

Then came the night with the Yakuza lieutenant. The man was a menace; his knuckles tattooed with old gang insignias. Rei, remembering Karasu’s lessons, didn’t try to pry as she hosted him. She listened. She poured his sake, her movements graceful and unhurried. She laughed at his dry jokes, her smile not a weapon but a genuine reaction. She became a silent, sympathetic confessional, and in a low, gravelly voice, he grumbled about territorial disputes with the Iron Oni, mentioning a specific warehouse on the western docks that was about to become very hot.

When she relayed the information to Karasu in his office afterward, his eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise, “The western docks? That’s actionable. Well done, Rei.” She beamed, “Thank you, Karasu-sama.” Her posture straightened, a new confidence in her eyes. “You’ve earned a reward,” he stated, turning and starting towards a long box with intricately patterned paper on his shelf. Rei didn’t hesitate, she walked over, meeting his gaze squarely, “Then please give me an advanced lesson. That’s the gift I want.” Karasu’s hand hovered over the box. He let out a long sigh, a sound of resignation that was far more revealing than he intended. He looked at her, the brilliant spy-in-the-making, the intoxicating complication, the woman who was steadily dismantling his defenses. He stepped away from box without opening it. “You certainly are stubborn, Rei…”, he exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated tick Rei had only witnessed once before, “Okay“, the word a quiet concession to the inevitable, “Tomorrow night. Don’t be late.”

A plan

The club’s hallway to the office smelled faintly of smoke and tea. Rei paused before entering, her reflection caught in the polished wood of the door. She centered herself. Her hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, her silk dress adjusted to show just enough curve, but still tasteful. Eyes sharp, lips a reddish purple and slightly parted.

Her fingers brushed the rim of the tray with tea she carried, the subtle warmth rising from the pot grounding her. She had replayed the last lesson in her mind countless times; the brush of his lips against her neck, the moment her moan had reached him, the quick pullback that had left her both flushed and frustrated. And she had remembered something crucial: Karasu had felt it too. He had felt the pull of her desire as a tangible thing, a challenge he hadn’t fully expected. Rei’s strategy had crystallized in the quiet hours afterward. Desire wasn’t her weakness. It could be a weapon if she controlled it, directed it, and made him manage it without losing herself. She wasn’t going to turn into putty in his hands this time. She was going to tempt, tease, and keep the upper hand.

The office was dimly lit and the flashes of signs from the city sliced through the blinds in streaks of violet and green. Karasu was already there when she entered, seated casually with one ankle crossed over the other in the chair behind his desk. Shirt sleeves rolled up, his dragon tattoos traced shadows across his forearms, and the faint glow from the windows painted his face. He looked up, a slow smirk curling on his lips.

“Back with a vengeance it seems,” he said, voice amused, “I take it last session lingered in your mind.” Rei set her tray down carefully on the desk in front of him, slowly placing the cups and pot cautiously, letting her fingers linger over the porcelain, then looked him straight in the eye, “It did. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” Her tone was soft and suggestive, but the firmness behind it betrayed intention.

A tense silence stretched. “I hope you’ve grown brave enough to keep your composure,” he replied, leaning back. “I have a plan,” she said, stepping closer, moving with grace, “This time I want to test you.” Karasu arched a brow. “This time I want to see if you can manage me,” Rei said, her eyes narrowing just slightly, heat threading through her calm exterior. His chuckle came unsettlingly slow, “That’s ambitious. Risky, even.”

Rei met his smirk without flinching. She perched on his side of the table, set her hand lightly on the edge, and leaned forward just enough to close the distance. Not melting, not gasping. Her gaze flicked to his chest, his strong arms and then back up, letting the heat of her eyes linger. Karasu’s straightened in his chair, subtle but perceptible. The first sign of a real reaction in him since she’d walked in. He didn’t move away, his body still claimed the space, but now with more awareness. “Good,” she whispered, voice low, “I want you to feel it too. Don’t look away, but don’t give in…” Her hand brushed his forearm lightly, a fleeting contact. He flinched almost imperceptibly, then collected himself, blue eyes sharpening darkly as he studied her. “You’re… improving,” he said softly, “You realize that there are consequences to challenges?” She bid her bottom lip before replying, “I know… I’m confident though. You see, I’ve realized that desire can be directed. And I can make it count.”

Her other hand slid to his knee while she subtly arched her back, her lips tilting into a teasing smile. The movement was poised, not flustered. Karasu’s jaw twitched, and she caught the brief, almost indiscernible tightening and release, the tell she’d been hunting for. Rei’s pulse raced, but not from fear. Excitement. Power. She let her fingertips trace a line down his chest, intentionally slow, testing him, feeling the subtle shift in his self-possession. “Impressive,” he murmured, voice low, deliberate, “You’re… learning faster than I expected.” Rei’s lips curved in a small, victorious smile, “Am I more skilled than you thought? Or are you discovering a soft spot for me Karasu?”

Karasu leaned closer, his presence immediately filling the entire room, but she didn’t retreat. She let the tension build, testing her boundaries, feeling the ecstasy of the game. The neon lights traced the curve of his jaw, the shadows of his chest. She could see the control he exerted over himself. She pushed, leaning even closer, hovering over his shoulder. Her lips brushed his neck fleetingly, just to elicit a reaction. His breath fastened; quick, subtle, controlled.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He put one arm on the small of her back and used the other to grab her chin and turn her face up to his. She felt his warm breath on her lips. Rei’s chest rose and fell, her own pulse echoing the thrill of the tease. She had tested him. She had made him feel it. But she also felt, just like last time, her desire taking over. It was becoming real and the scenario and simulation was melting away until it was only him and her and nothing else.

Karasu’s hand rose unhurriedly up her back, brushing against her shoulder, the contact firm but not pressing, signaling he was in command without ending the game. He leaned back, eyes glittering with dark amusement, “Enough for tonight. You’ve proven your point.” Rei straightened, letting the conscious intensity bleed out of her limbs, a triumphant flush on her cheeks. She had stirred him, felt him react, and yet she had maintained control. Karasu’s eyes followed her as she backed toward the door, the quiet hum of the city below filling the silence, as he finally picked up his drink and downed it.