Reporting to Karasu

The air in Karasu’s office was its usual mix of smoke and quiet intensity. Rei sat across from him, the plush velvet of the chair a stark contrast to the cold, clinical surfaces of Kuroda Plaza. She relished not wearing one of the tailored dresses, relaxing in her own clothes; jeans and a cropped sweater, a small act of reclaiming herself. Karasu listened, his fist resting under his chin, his blue eyes fixed on her as she relayed the events of the latest days with Takumi. Karasu’s intimidating Nephila persona was fully present, absorbing every detail.

“…so he’s still having me trained,” she explained, keeping her tone factual, analytical, “Posture, etiquette. How to pour exact amounts of tea soundlessly. He says it’s for the new project his division is launching. A premium Synapse Dive experience. It’s supposedly revolutionary, in that they include simulations to customize it… they named it Eidolon. He wants me to be the ‘face’ of it. A brand ambassador”, she took a breath, deciding how much of her unease to reveal, “The scans they did onboarding me, included a full biometric and neural work-up and were pretty extensive considering the tasks and lessons he is giving me. Takumi said it was standard for corporate access. But it was… they measured everything.”

She left out the immersion bath, the intimate violation of it. Some things felt too sensitive to voice casually. Karasu didn’t move, but she saw the subtle shift in his expression. His mind was working, sorting the information, looking for angles. The personal concern was there, a dense undercurrent, but it was secondary now to the professional opportunity.

“Eidolon,” he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a foreign substance, “A synapse and simulation product… and he’s scanning you for it.”, he leaned back, picking up his cigarette, “He’s grooming you for more than pouring tea, Rei. He’s making you a part of his asset pool”, he took a drag, the blue smoke framing his face, “This might be a good opportunity.” Rei blinked, surprised.

“Intel, little fox,” he said, his voice low and focused, “You’re being invited into the boardroom. You’ll hear things and see things people like me pay a fortune for and still can’t get the full scoop about.” His eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating light, “Kuroda’s next-gen SD tech… that’s a valuable secret. Their marketing strategies, their investor lists…”, he pointed his cigarette at her, “Your priority is to play your part. Be the perfect, pretty accessory. Listen and remember everything. Names, project codenames, technical terms – anything that seems important. You have a sharp mind; use it.”

His tone hardened, just a fraction, “But you do not take risks, do not ask probing questions. You do not get caught looking where you shouldn’t. If he tells you to stand and look beautiful, you stand and look beautiful. The information will come to you. Let it. Your safety is more important than any corporate secret. Understood?” It was a command, but it was wrapped in a layer of concern that was uniquely his. He was giving her orders for a mission, but his main instruction was for her to stay safe. Rei nodded, a strange mix of relief and tension settled in her. Karasu saw the opportunity, not just the personal threat. He was treating her like an agent, not just a possession, “Understood. I’ll be his perfect doll and remember everything.”

“Good girl”, he crushed out his cigarette, “Now, tell me about the scan again. What exactly did they measure? And the scientist’s name. Kaoru, you said?” The Master Spider was already at work, piecing together the puzzle, using the fragments she gave him. For now, the digital ghost of Eidolon was just a name. But Karasu was already plotting how to exploit it.

Rei took a steadying breath, focusing on the details, pushing the visceral memory of the gel and the probing sensors aside, “Yes, the scientist’s name is Doctor Kaoru Sato. He’s… twitchy. Brilliant, but he looks at you like you’re a data sheet, not a person.” She described the posture capture, the vocal resonance tests and the neural cap. “They showed me images – violent, peaceful, funny, sexy, off-putting and some… well, some that are harder to describe. They were measuring my brain’s reaction to everything.”

She also reluctantly mentioned the most invasive part, the immersion bath, but her slight shudder conveyed enough for Karasu to not push further. “It was far more than a security clearance, Karasu. Kaoru called it a full-spectrum bio-signature capture. For a brand ambassador? It doesn’t add up.”

Karasu’s expression was grim, his mind clearly cataloging each piece of technical jargon. “A bio-signature is a blueprint,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, “Eidolon… a digital construct. He’s not making a poster, Rei. He’s building an avatar.” The cold fury was back in his eyes, but he banked it, focusing on the practical, “Kaoru Sato… I’ll have Aoi dig into him. See what other blueprints he’s been drawing.” He stood up, the intensity of the boss receding, “Enough for now. You’re home now. Let’s go to the apartment.” He walked to the door, holding it open for her, “You cooked last time. My turn.” It was a startling domestic declaration.

Back in the small kitchen he rummaged through the fridge, pulling out packets of pre-made udon noodles, broth, and vegetables. His cooking was efficient, practical, devoid of artistry but tasty. They ate at the low table in the main room, the steam from the bowls warming the space. The conversation, per their agreement, didn’t involve work. He asked about the noisy neighbor in her apartment building. She asked if he’d heard anything more about the fish vendor and the snake. They traded small, inconsequential stories, the fragile normalcy they’d built feeling more necessary than ever. After they’d cleared the bowls, Karasu didn’t retreat to his office or light a cigarette. Instead, he gestured to the worn couch, “Movie.”

Rei curled up on one end, pulling a blanket over her legs. Karasu sat on the other, maintaining some space between them. He navigated to a channel playing old, pre-collapse action films full of practical effects and simple plots. The sound of exaggerated gunfire and cheesy one-liners filled the apartment, a comforting, mindless noise.

About halfway through, during a lull in the explosions, Rei felt a shift in the couch. Karasu’s arm settled along the back of the cushions behind her. It wasn’t pulling her close, just there. An invitation. She sat up, shifting to his side and leaned his way, letting her head rest against his chest. His muscles contracted for a second, then eased. He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the screen where a car was flipping over in slow motion, but his fingers began to stroke her hair absently.

It was a quiet, tender gesture. A world away from Takumi’s calculated touches and demands. This was not about measurement or control. It was about comfort, about presence. Rei felt the stress drain from her shoulders, melting into the simple, solid warmth of him. They stayed like that until the credits rolled, a silent, peaceful island in the raging sea of Mirage City. It was a perfect, quiet couple’s night, and it meant more to her than any luxurious dress or meal ever could.

The credits of the movie scrolled up the screen, casting a soft, pale light across the quiet room. The cheesy synth music faded slowly, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. Rei shifted, stretching like a cat, her head still resting against Karasu’s chest. He gave her hair one last, almost reluctant stroke before withdrawing.

“Bedtime,” he said, his voice a hoarse rumble. It was a command, but a gentle one. They moved through the familiar routine of preparing for bed in comfortable silence. In the bathroom, she used her simple soap, he used his, the scents of sandalwood and jasmine mingling in the steam. There were no demands, no intense, reclaiming kisses. Just the quiet intimacy of shared space.

When they slipped under the covers, he automatically turned onto his side, pulling her back against his chest into their usual spooning position. His arm draped over her waist, holding her close. Rei lay there for a moment, listening to the steady beat of his heart against her back, feeling the grounding heat of him surrounding her. But a different kind of warmth was building inside her; a need to give, to soothe, to offer him the same tenderness he’d just shown her. To show him that their relationship wasn’t just about survival or fierce possession. It could be about connection and kind affection too.

Slowly, she turned in his arms until facing him. His blue eyes were watchful in the dim light, curious. She leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t hungry or desperate. It was slow and explorative. A kiss meant to savor, to appreciate. She felt him start to respond, his hands coming up to grip her hips, his instinct to roll her onto her back and take control immediately surfacing. But before he could, she broke the kiss and placed a single, gentle finger against his lips. “Wait,” she whispered, her lips curving into a mischievous smile, “Just lie back for a while. Let me treat you nice.”

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise. This was a reversal. A request he wasn’t used to. A challenge to his need for dominance. She saw the deliberation in his gaze; the desire to command versus the novel temptation of pure, undiluted pleasure. For a long, breathless moment, he held her gaze. With measured exhalation, the resistance left his body. He gave a single, almost invisible nod, before rolling onto his back, his hands releasing her hips and settling on the mattress at his sides. It was a surrender. A small one, but profound.

Emboldened, Rei shifted, hovered over him and kissed him again, then began a slow trail down his jaw, his throat, his chest. She worshiped his body with her lips and tongue, paying attention to the places she knew held his tautness; the hard line of his shoulders, the old scar on his ribs, the coiled strength of his abdomen. She was slow, thorough, pandering in the most delicious way.

Karasu lay beneath her, his eyes fiery, his breathing growing steadily deeper and more ragged. A low groan escaped him as her mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. His hands, which had been lying still, came up to rest on her back, not guiding, just feeling, joining. When she moved to straddle him, settling over his hips, his eyes burned into hers. The control was slipping, the tiger straining at the leash. His hands went to her waist, his grip firm, “Rei…” It was a warning and a question. She leaned down, her hair curtaining their faces, and kissed him passionately. “We’re sharing control tonight,” she breathed against his mouth, “Just for a bit. Trust me.”

She felt the shudder that went through him. Trust. The word was a key. He released his hold on her waist, his hands sliding up to cup her face instead, pulling her into another searing kiss as she slowly, slowly lowered herself onto him, and they found a new rhythm. It wasn’t him driving into her, or her grinding against him. It was a shared motion, a perfect, fluid synergy. He would let her set the pace for a few moments, his hands roaming her body with awe, and then a growl would build in his chest and he’d surge up, flipping them over to reclaim his dominance for a breathtaking minute, before relinquishing control again, letting her rise above him once more.

It was a dance. A conversation of unleashed sensuality. For the first time, there was no clear leader, no obedient follower. There were just two people, giving and taking in equal measure, lost in the naked truth of each other.