Simulations vs. Reality

Rei tilted her head, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “I’m thirsty,” she said softly, as though the cruelty Takumi had just laced into her skin hadn’t landed at all, “Will you pour me a drink?”, she purred and handed him her empty glass. The request was audacious in its casualness. Takumi’s jaw shifted, the smallest flicker of irritation in the clean lines of his composure. She dared to act unbothered, to ignore his abuse. Grudgingly, he enjoyed her strength even when it bit at his control.

Without refuting, he took the glass, bypassed the Yamazaki bottle on the desk and turned to the lacquered bar in the corner, crystal clinking as he poured plum wine into the cut glass. She had once said it was her favorite drink. The thoughtfulness peculiar in the wake of his recent viciousness. His movements were exact, ritualistic.

When he walked over and handed her the glass, she raised it slowly, letting the amber catch the light. “Kanpai “, she said light-heartedly, raising the glass and continued undisturbed, ”Desire… it’s interesting, isn’t it? It’s not only about control”, she sipped, the sweet burn sliding down her throat, “It’s as much about surprise, about choice. I can submit when I want to – but that’s the point, Takumi, when I want to. The fear of rejection, the thrill of being chosen… that’s the fuel behind the real inferno.”

Rei sauntered to the sofa, sinking into its cushions as though she had clocked out and could finally take a load off, her legs folding with effortless elegance. She waited for him, embers flickering in her eyes. Her expression turned almost contemplative, “You watched me stare down my shadow… I realized something in there”, she took another sip, the warmth a grounding sensation, “You may own the avatar. But you’ll never own the complication. And that’s all I am to you now, isn’t it? The one complication you can’t solve with an algorithm or Fund Units. Simultaneously insignificant and irreplaceable.”

Takumi’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes absorbed her as he sat down beside her. “Once you claim something,” she continued, inclining her face towards his, “Once you’ve had what you desire, some of the shine wears off right? Unless…” she leaned closer, holding the glass gently near her mouth, caressing her bottom lip with the rim, “…you never really had it at all.”

She showed him a glimpse of a blaze he couldn’t control; a puzzle he couldn’t solve. The first rule of her new game had been subtly announced: from now on, every yes would be hard-won, and every almost would be a calculated torment. She was going to become the most frustrating, fascinating, and ultimately unconquerable complication of his life. His grey eyes sharpened, catching every inflection, every word.

Takumi’s answering words came low and treacherous, “Is this your attempt at intimidating me? Implying that you can never be… claimed?” His hand brushed the side of her face, his thumb ghosting over her cheek. He let the question echo through the huge room. Then his tone shifted, predatory curiosity glinting in his eyes, “Let’s not pretend it’s only abstract desire we’re dissecting.”

He traced the rim of her glass, then set it aside firmly, “You blushed when you saw her – your double. The perfect, plastic Eidolon Rei”, he leaned close enough that she felt his breath against her ear,“Tell me, which world do you crave more? The simulated illusions, the sins of Chochin – hustling as a hostess, or the private cars, carrying you to glittering towers? The Spider in the shadows… or the executive with power enough to give you anything… or take everything?” His hand slid up her bare thigh, stopping just short of her hip, pressing heat into her skin without taking a hold.

Rei’s eyes fluttered as her own hand found the line of his chest, resting on the fabric of his blazer, sensing his heartbeat beneath her palm. She pressed lightly, just enough to feel the strength beneath. Her lips parted against his throat, a soft kiss placed where pulse met skin. He stiffened, barely, before retaliating, finding the delicate line of her collarbone with his own mouth, a delicate kiss. His other hand drifted to her ribs, almost but not quite touching the bottom of her breasts. It became a game of proximity, of exquisite denial.

His mouth found her neck; hers grazed his jaw. His hands climbed but stopped short; hers slipped inside his jacket but lingered on his chest and shoulders. Each caress was a promise unfulfilled, a cliff’s edge neither leapt from. When he pulled back, Rei’s breath was uneven, her glass forgotten on the table, she realized what he had done, what they had done, they had lit the fuse but refused the detonation.

Takumi’s smirk was faint, but his pupils betrayed the depth of his yearning, as he pulled back and stated in a husky voice, “Simulations can only ever pretend, embellish and aim to fulfill. But in reality there is pleasure—” his thumb brushed over her lips again, his mouth hovering just short of a kiss, “— in knowing exactly when not to give in.” Rei steadied herself, retreating and reaching for her glass, lifting it slowly to her lips. She sipped, calmer now, her body still thrumming from his nearness but her will refusing to give in.

“Real pleasure doesn’t pretend to fulfill…”, she declared, then crossed her legs, gaining an academic air about her, “You asked what I prefer… I find there are some interesting distinctions between simulations and reality; strengths and weaknesses to both,” she said, her tone airy but her eyes sharp, “This is real, us sitting here, refusing to give in to temptation. Which only makes the pull stronger.” Takumi’s head tipped slightly, his gaze sharpening with unasked questions, awaiting her elaborations.

“Have you ever read Oscar Wilde?” she asked. A completely unguarded flicker of surprise, a clear crease at his brow, revealed his thoughts entirely. He didn’t answer, but she caught it. Her laugh was light, “What? Did you think I was illiterate? Komorebi happens to love Wilde.” That name, Komorebi. It cracked something cold and vicious beneath Takumi’s surface. His finger tapped his glass a single time, his smile just a shade too pointed. Still, he said nothing.

Rei let the silence stretch before she continued, her voice lilting with casual delight, “This is one of my favorite lines from The Picture of Dorian Gray: ‘The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing…’” Takumi’s expression shifted. His voice low and edged with iron, “Are you implying we’re damaging our health, by not giving in to attraction right here, right now?” The way he said it was both a question and a threat, a promise of pleasure and pain. His smile was playful but cutting. Rei bid her bottom lip, her own smile enigmatic, “Not every temptation is healthy to indulge in.”

The ambiguity hung heavy in the air. She was learning quickly, turning his weapons back against him. He both relished and resented it. “There’s a distinction that interests me,” she went on, standing, “regarding the difference between simulations and fantasies.” He watched her intensely as she walked to the bar, her dress catching the neon light, and carried the Yamazaki bottle from the desk back with her to refill his glass. She moved languidly, her voice steady despite the adrenaline in her blood.

“You called Eidolon a fantasy. But fantasies live in the mind, in the privacy of thought. My desires guide me. If they bore me or if they unsettle me, they fall flat. My instincts, my subconscious… it’s the real author”, she poured his glass, meeting his eyes as she sat back down close beside him, “A simulation though? It gives the illusion of indulgence without revealing the full truth. It risks corrupting the very desire it feeds on – tricking people into believing they’ve satisfied a temptation when they haven’t. Neither an expression of unconscious desire… nor the real act itself. Just a perverse impotence of both.”

Takumi shifted closer, the air between them stirring. He draped his arm along the back of the sofa, his hand curving around the back of her neck. She shuddered, just slightly, but didn’t retreat. If anything, her chin lifted, her body leaning almost imperceptibly into his hold.

“A perverse impotence,” he repeated, his voice a velvety rumble. His thumb pressed lightly against her pulse point, not in anger, but in emphasis, “What exactly is the defining distinction between the private fantasy and the simulation? Isn’t the simulation a tool to test one’s fantasies? The fact that an Eidolon user can give prompts and control the digital construct, doesn’t that work similarly to you picturing me taking you in your thought-scape?” he murmured, thumb brushing once against the line of her throat.

Rei’s hand moved with careful boldness, tracing over his throat, chest, abs. His gaze followed, steel-grey, his composure fraying, the control in his grip tightening slightly. “My fantasies about you…,” she whispered, wetting her lips, “… are about what I want you to do to me – what I want to do to you… and they come from me. They don’t necessarily include a realistic version of you… they include the version of you I want. They burn because they’re real to me. They belong to my emotions. In contrast your simulations… they’re an imitation of heat based on recorded data, possibly irrelevant facts. Smoke without fire.” The space between them thickened, charged. His breathing was steadier than hers, but she saw it; the faint tremor, the hurricane in his eyes.

Rei smiled provocatively, “That’s the distinction, Takumi. Imagination through fantasies… it amplifies, not bound by reality. But the curated simulation?”, she gripped onto his vest, pulling him a fraction closer, eyes locked on his, “It pretends, poses and in pretending, it risks distracting the origin of the desire, by appealing to desperation – selling a fake realistic release. It is distance from desire, not glorified intimacy.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Interesting theories Rei. But tell me, if the simulation is an impotent illusion, then what are your fantasies?” His other hand moved, tracing a line from her knee up her thigh, stopping a hair’s breadth from touching the heat he knew was there, “Isn’t it also an imitation? This tension we are so carefully cultivating, isn’t this the one real thing even your fantasies can’t predict? If your fantasies aren’t bound by realism, what exactly do they amplify besides a differently fake impotence?” He pulled back just enough to watch her face, his piercing eyes boring into her. She was flushed, trembling, still her voice, barely audible and threaded with a moan, came steady, “Yes… maybe you’re right… but my fantasies are mine…”, her lips parted, remaining open, her breathing hitching, before continuing, “Eidolon Rei isn’t mine. She is your fantasy.”

Something flared behind his eyes; a furnace ignited by the insolence of it. The accuracy. Takumi didn’t retreat. He pressed forward, forcing her into the cushions of the sofa, his frame caging her in. One hand locked around her throat, thumb brushing her pulse, almost tender, almost cruel.

“You should be careful, assuming you know my fantasies,” he murmured, the words both laced with fury and thrill. His other hand slid up under her dress, gliding across the curve of her hips, her stomach, fingertips brushing so close she could barely contain herself. Her skin flushed, the pleasure impossible to hide.

“Eidolon,” he went on, voice smooth, “is business before anything else. You claim a fake release is impotence? Good. That is what sells. A complete release kills the market”, his hand released her neck, moving just below her left breast instead, “Selling fantasies to those desiring just that – to be swept away, lied to and placated. Daydreaming? That is free – temptation is stronger when not easily obtainable. Eidolon offers exactly what they’ll want to pay for.” He lowered his mouth near hers, his lips so close she could taste the Yamazaki, but the kiss never landed. His control was absolute. “You quoted Wilde”, he whispered, “Temptation is strongest when denied?”

Rei’s body shivered, longing for his kiss, but staying put, openly admitting nothing. The haze in her eyes was not surrender; it was defiance. He wanted her to beg. She wouldn’t. Instead, she arched her back in an unspoken dare, pressing her chest up against him, her body challenging him, her pleasure palpable. Rei was using him to please herself; she was not his victim; she was daring him to refrain and withdraw. Knowing he wanted her, knowing that his own stubbornness would not allow him to break first. The tension snapped like a highwire ready to fray. He tensed, his breathing accelerating against her lips. She felt him almost falter, and yet, he didn’t.

Takumi’s touch loosened, and suddenly she was free. He rose fluidly, as though shaking her off like excess rain. He passed to the low table, scooped up his glass, and drained the Yamazaki in a single swallow. Then, without a word, he turned to the window, hands clasped behind his back, the city’s infinite lights reflected against the flawless line of his suit. He stood like that for several minutes, steadying himself. It was first time he had let his control slip that much. The smiling flirty Eidolon Rei on the promo screen palling in comparison to the real thing like a withered flower.

Rei stayed half-reclined on the sofa, her chest rising and falling in fast intervals, hair tussled. The memory of it thrilled her more than she wanted to admit. He had been furious, the most controlling she had ever seen him, and she had seen him roused. She liked it, felt simultaneously powerful and afraid, both truths tangled together like live wires. He could kill her whenever he tired of her. He had her scans, her phantom. But looking at his tense back, remembering the fire in his eyes, Rei knew he wouldn’t. Not yet at least.

The stillness that stretched in the meeting room after Rei’s physical dare and philosophical dissection of Eidolon was profound. Takumi’s expression was no longer merely curious or predatory; it was calculating, reassessing her value on a fundamental level. When he turned back to her, the dangerous smile had faded, replaced by a cool, impenetrable mask.

His voice was smooth, “Albeit infuriating, you do have a unique perspective Rei. One that could prove invaluable to the project’s continued development.” He leaned nonchalantly against his desk, “In fact, it makes me once again reconsider the current… division of your hours. Splitting your focus between Kuroda and Komorebi’s back alley is an inefficient use of an asset of your caliber.”

Rei’s blood ran cold, but she kept her face a placid mask, saying nothing, waiting for the blow. Takumi’s expression turned more severe, “I think it’s time I made an offer to your current… vendor; acquiring your contract in perpetuity.” His gaze narrowed, a needle-thin hint of spite glinting within it. He knew; he might not have proof about the depths of it, but he knew about her and Karasu’s relationship. This wasn’t just about business efficiency; it was a move on the board to remove his rival entirely.

Rei forced a light, yet tired smile. She stood, smoothing her dress, “I believe I’ve already made my preferences known regarding that matter. If that’s all, Mr. Takumi? It’s been a long day.” Her refusal to even entertain his intimidation, only make him fume more, but he gave a slight, dismissive nod, already turning back to the view of Mirage City, as if her contract was already a done deal, “You’re excused. We’ll discuss your new tasks once the transfer is finalized.”