Debrief & Karasu

The club was quiet when Rei slipped back in, the scent of incense curling through the low-lit corridors. Karasu was waiting in his office, perched behind his lacquered desk, a half-burned cigarette between his fingers and a glass of sake sweating at his elbow.

She didn’t bother with formalities. A simple nod and she dropped onto the velvet chair opposite his desk. Karasu’s sharp eyes flicked up, intense and searching. She crossed her legs, and her dress rose up just enough to reveal a faint bruise, one of Takumi’s eager fingerprints. “Takumi Junior’s ours”, she said simply. For a long moment, he just studied her, his gaze darting to her swollen lips for a fraction of a second before commanding, “Tell me.” Rei tilted her head, “Which part?” Jazz from the club below drifted up at filled the silence for a moment.

“The part where you made him trust you”, his tone was casual, but the way he ground the cigarette into the ashtray betrayed a forcefulness beneath the surface. She smiled faintly, savoring the rare sight of such clear reactions form Karasu. “He came on time tonight. No tail. No excuses”, she leaned back, letting the silk of her dress fold against her skin, “He initialized touch first, I didn’t pull away. By the end, he was kissing me like a drowning man.” Karasu’s jaw flexed. He reached for his sake, but the glass paused halfway to his lips, “You kissed him back?” Rei nodded, brows furrowing, “Of course. Isn’t that the point?” A silence stretched between them, taut as wire.

Then Karasu set the glass down and leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, “You enjoyed it.” Not a question. Rei’s pulse kicked, but she held his gaze. For a minute she considered telling him about the invitation to the love hotel but thought better of it. Instead she murmured, “Isn’t that what you told me to do? Experience or acting – acting isn’t my strong suit…”

For the first time, his composure cracked, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was stirred by her boldness, but he wouldn’t give her the win so easily. Rei rose from her chair and walked around the desk, slow and deliberate. She perched on the edge, close enough that the jasmine on her skin reached Karasu’s nose. “You don’t like hearing it,” she whispered, “That I touched him. The way he touched me.” Karasu didn’t move. His eyes tracked her, unreadable. “You wanted me to seduce him”, her hand ghosted over the desk, inching closer to his, “So why do you sound jealous now?”

That did it. He turned in his chair and stood up in front of her. His hands shot out, not grabbing her but resting on the desk on each side of her, caging her in. His voice dropped low and hazardous, “Careful, little fox. You think you’re playing me?” Rei leaned in, letting her lips hover near his ear, “It takes two to play.” She expected him to pull back, to shut her down. Instead, he turned his head slightly, just enough that his moustache and breath brushed her lips. His presence was overwhelming; controlled, deliberate, a storm contained in a glass.

“Then play,” he murmured.

Her heartbeat stuttered. She slid closer, testing, her hand brushing his chest. His gaze burned into her, steady, waiting. Rei pressed on, emboldened, leaning so close her dress caressed his thigh. “You’re not untouchable,” she said, her voice a breath. Karasu moved then, slow fingers skimming the curve of her knee, tracing higher. Rei sucked in a breath, the game slipping, her composure cracking. “That’s right,” he said softly, savoring it, “I can play too…”

His hand travelled higher, never quite reaching where she most wanted. Rei shivered, leaning into him despite herself, the memory of Takumi’s clumsy kisses paling next to this razor-edge tension. She wanted more. Too much. Karasu stopped, pulling back just as her breath fastened dangerously, just as she trembled. He stepped back from his desk, towering over her, forcing her to tilt her head up.

“Enough,” he said, his tone firm, final, “Go stay in your room. You’ve done well tonight. But you’re not ready to play this game with me.” Rei sat frozen on the edge of the desk, glowing and breathless, her lips parted in frustration. But she obeyed. When the door closed behind her, she realized that though he had let her make her move, let her seduce him, in the end he had still left her wanting. And that was the cruelest victory of all.

No More Games

The apartment was silent save for the hum of neon bleeding through the blinds. Rei stood in front of her mirror, the silk of her nightgown whispering against her skin as she untied her hair. The fabric was thin, barely there; the kind Karasu’s occasional lovers wore when they slipped out before dawn. She studied her reflection: lips still slightly swollen from Takumi’s kisses, cheeks flushed with the lingering thrill of the night. But it wasn’t enough.

Not even close.

Karasu’s office still burned in her memory; the way his fingers had traced her thigh, the heat in his gaze when he’d dared her to play. He’d shut her down, but she’d felt the crack in his control, the hunger beneath the ice. Rei turned from the mirror and padded across the living room, barefoot and deliberate. His door was ajar, a sliver of golden light cutting through the dark. She pushed it open without knocking.

Karasu sat on the edge of his bed, shirtless, wearing loose cotton slacks. The dragons on his torso coiled in the low light. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, its ember casting flickering shadows across the planes of his chest. He didn’t look up as she entered. “You should be asleep,” he said, voice rough. Rei leaned against the doorframe, letting the silk ride up her thigh, “I’m tired of pretending.” That got his attention. His eyes lifted, dark and assessing, tracking her legs, the curve of her neck, the dip of her collarbones, her cleavage. The cigarette stilled between his fingers.

“Pretending what?”

“That this is just training”, she stepped forward, the floor cool beneath her feet, “That I don’t want you. That you don’t want me.” Karasu exhaled smoke, his gaze never leaving hers, “You’re playing with fire, little fox.” She stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the heat of his skin, “Burn me, then.” For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then Karasu’s hand shot out, gripping her waist and yanking her down onto his lap. The cigarette tumbled to the floor, forgotten, as his other hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back.

“Last chance,” he rumbled against her throat, “walk away.” Rei arched into him, her nails sinking into his shoulders, “Make me.” Karasu’s control shattered. He kissed her first tenderly, then all tongue and greed. Rei gasped into his mouth, her fingers interlacing behind his neck as he dragged her firmly against him. There was no finesse now, no calculated teasing. Just raw, reckless want. When he broke away, his breath was ragged, “This isn’t a lesson.”

“I know”, Rei nipped at his ear, “This is real.”

He flipped her onto the mattress, his weight pinning her down. The silk of her nightgown tore under his hands, the sound loud in the quiet room. Rei gasped, breathless, as his mouth found her neck. “Mine,” he grumbled between kisses. Rei tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, “Prove it.” The air in the room was thick with the scent of him; sandalwood, smoke, and the sharp, clean sweat of his skin. His mouth was hot on her throat, his hands rough as they mapped the territory of her body, claiming it with an intensity that left her light-headed. The silk of her nightgown was a ruined puddle around her shoulders and back, the cool air against her newly bared skin a shock that only made the heat of him more intense.

He was everywhere. His weight, the hard planes of his chest against hers, the taste of him; whiskey, nicotine and something uniquely Karasu. Rei’s world narrowed to the points of contact: his teeth on her collarbone, his calloused palm skimming her ribs, the relentless pressure of his thigh between hers.

She was losing herself in it, in the sheer animalistic need of it. Rei trembled under him, as he kissed her neck. She moaned, “Karasu.. I’m so glad… you’ll be my first”. Then he stopped, his body tensing above her. The only sound was their ragged breathing, mingling in the scant space between their mouths. He pushed himself up, the silver-threaded hair falling over his forehead. His blue eyes, usually so cold and calculating, were dark with a storm of conflict; looking at her, at the trust in her eyes, the faint tremble in her bottom lip, the youthful defiance warring with a vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide.

The air in the room, once thick with heat and hunger, went stale. The domineering fire in his eyes banked, replaced by a sharp clarity. He removed himself fully from her, the motion swift and final. The torn silk of her nightgown gaping left Rei feeling a shocking exposure. The sudden cold where his body had been was a physical ache. Rei stared, confused and wounded, as he swung his legs off the bed and retrieved a fresh cigarette from the pack on his nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her, and lit the cigarette with a hand that was almost steady. The click of the lighter was unnaturally loud; the flare a tiny, violent explosion in the dark. He took a long, deep drag, the blue smoke curling around his head like a troubled thought.

“You should go,” he said, his voice graveled, all the heat gone from it. Rei pushed herself up on her elbows, the torn silk slipping further, the rejection a physical blow. “Why?” The words came out sharper than she intended, laced with a hurt she didn’t want him to hear. He didn’t turn. The cigarette glowed, “I’m not a tender lover Rei. I take. I consume. I leave marks”, he turned his head, just enough to look at her, his expression unreadable, “You said I’m your first. That changes things… I’m not a gentleman, Rei. And I don’t want to be.” The words were like a door slamming shut. Hurt and confusion twisted in her chest, sharpening into anger.

Rei laughed, the sound short and bitter. She crawled out of the bed stepping out to face him, the nightgown flowing like a cape at her back. Naked and furious, she looked at him boldly. “You think I want careful? After everything? After the life I’ve had? You think a gentle touch is what I need? You think I’m afraid of you?” she challenged, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and humiliation. “You should be,” he stated flatly, finally lifting his eyes to look at hers. His expression was unreadable; a mask carved from stone and shadow, “This isn’t a game. It’s… me. And it’s I’m not for beginners.”

The condescension in his tone was the ultimate spark. Rei yanked the torn fabric of her gown together, her face burning. “So what?” she spat, the words lashing out before she could stop them, “You’d prefer Takumi take me first? Is that it? Is that better for you? Let the Kuroda heir have what you won’t?”

The air left the room. Karasu’s eyes narrowed to slits, the icy control snapping back into place so completely it was terrifying.The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the faint hiss of rain against the window. Karasu rose slowly, the cigarette limp between his fingers. The look on his face was no longer stone. It was something far more dangerous. He loomed tall in front of her. He didn’t touch her. The heat of his body and the chill of his anger creating a dizzying paradox. The scent of smoke and cold fury rolled off him potently. “Don’t,” he whispered, “ever use another man’s name to try and get what you want from me. It’s a pathetic immature move”, he leaned in, his eyes burning into hers, “If you were anyone else, I’d have thrown you out on the street for that.”

Rei stood her ground, her heart hammering, her fists clutching the nightgown. She refused to look away. The truth of his words stung, mixing with the raw wound of her pride. “Then who am I to you?” she pleaded, her voice barely audible. Karasu stared at her for a long, tense moment. The anger in his eyes slowly receded, replaced by a weary, frustratingly unreadable depth. “A complication I didn’t need,” he said finally, his voice quiet again.

“Why is it so complicated?” she taunted, her fury returning, hands shaking and her heartbeat drumming in her ears, “Is it honestly less complicated throwing me away, than claiming me? Is it really simpler to order me around, to have others touching me instead of you?” His hand came up then, not to strike her, but to cup the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. It wasn’t a caress. It was a possession. He forced her to look up at him, his face inches from hers. “You are mine Rei,” he growled, the words vibrating with a primal intensity, “Every breath you take in this city is because I allow it. Every beat of your heart belongs to me.” The anger in his eyes was molten, but beneath it, she saw the raw, unvarnished want she had provoked. The jealousy her taunt had unearthed. “Then take me,” she whispered, all the fight leaving her, replaced by a desperate, aching need, “I’m not afraid of you. I’m only afraid of you pushing me away.”

For a long moment, he just held her there, his gaze searching hers, looking for any hint of fear. He found none. Only defiance and trust so absolute it was its own form of madness. A low sound rumbled in his chest. His hand in her hair gentled, becoming almost a caress. The other came up to trace her jawline, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “You foolish, brave girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with something she couldn’t name. Then he turned away, picking up his robe from a chair and pulling it on, tying the sash with a sharp, precise motion, “Now get out.” He just stood by the window, smoking, without looking at her again, his silhouette a stark cutout against the drenched night.

Rei stood frozen for a second longer, the torn silk cool against her heated skin. Then, with a wounded sound, she turned and fled the room, leaving the scent of jasmine and shattered pride hanging heavy in the air behind her.