Eidolon

Warning (PG16)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

Rei watched Takumi over the rim of her glass. The Bicoca jewelry felt heavy against her skin, a reminder of his constant, invisible presence. Her mind drifted to the whispers in the sauna, Bride-Prince, and the woman who was the source of that title. A sour, unwelcome envy twisted in her gut, and she decided to use it, to weaponize her own genuine, messy feelings.

Her eyes dropped to his left hand, to the simple, platinum wedding band he always wore. She let her gaze linger, then looked up, her expression a carefully crafted blend of casual curiosity and sharp-edged irony. “Is the ring why you keep your distance?” she asked, her voice deceptively light, “Surely the daughter of a CEO is more worthy of your attention. I’d imagine she demands it.” She let the scorn bleed through, a defiance that said she might be his asset, but she did not feel intellectually inferior to any woman, CEO’s daughter or not.

Takumi stilled the glass halfway to his lips. The calm on his face was a practiced mask, but a new flame ignited in the depths of his grey eyes. They had never, ever spoken of his wife and he preferred it that way. Seeing this flash of unguarded jealousy in Rei was a rare and potent spectacle. He let the silence stretch, savoring the way her casual posture began to tighten, the subtle pout she couldn’t quite suppress.

Finally, he let out a low, quiet laugh. He set his glass down, “Rei, I find your straightforwardness somewhat amiable,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble, “But only ever air it when we are completely alone, as we are now.” His gaze was intense, pinning her, “And I do not wish to discuss my marriage. Consider the topic of limits.”

The dismissal was absolute. Rei’s face fell, disappointment and a flash of temper overriding her careful control. She reached for the bottle and poured more wine for herself, pointedly not offering him any. Attempting to cover for her mounting grudge, she turned her face and stared out into the night.

Her mind, fueled by wine and a turbulent cocktail of emotions, conjured the image of him walking out on her that night, leaving her breathless and wanting in the leather lingerie. She pictured him going straight home, to his wife, to a marital bed where all his controlled passion was finally, fully unleashed.

“So that’s it then?”, she said, the words tumbling out, sharp and bitter. She turned back to him, her black eyes blazing, “Am I just a substitute for a blue pill? A way to inject a little excitement into an old, dusty marriage?” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a bitter whisper, “Is that why you won’t take me? Did you promise her you’d never enter me? Never give in completely?”

The words hung in the air, a brutal, naked challenge. She had stripped away all pretense, all business logic, and laid bare the raw, humiliating suspicion that had been festering inside her. She was no longer negotiating, she was accusing, and in the tense, electric silence that followed, she waited for his answer.

A storm erupted in Takumi’s grey eyes, a tempest of pure, incandescent fury. The air in the penthouse crackled with it. She had not only disobeyed his direct command to drop the subject, but she had plunged a dagger into the most private, calculated arrangement of his life and twisted it with her humiliating theories.

He didn’t desire his wife, the truth was a cold, hard stone in his gut. He was a man of limitless ambition and seduction was a tool. His marriage to the CEO’s daughter had been the most powerful seduction of his life, a masterstroke that secured his throne. She was a useful, complicated tool.

And Rei, Rei was a tool turning dangerously sentient. She was not just talented or useful for Eidolon. She was not just a beautiful, intelligent pawn, she was, in every conceivable way, attractive to him. Her fiery intellect, her defiant spirit, even this inelegant, furious, jealous rant, it all coiled a hot, forceful desire in his belly. 

Witnessing her swinging her wine glass around in a tirade, had conjured an urge to take her right there on the dining table, a want and image so vivid it was a bodily ache. His discipline, the iron control that was his greatest asset, was the only thing that kept him seated.

He was playing a longer, more exquisite game. He would not fold first, he was patiently, ruthlessly waiting for the moment she would break, when she would look at him not with defiance, but with surrender, and beg him to take her. Until then, he would savor every second of this building torment. Her emotional unraveling tonight was not a setback; it was a sign he was winning. She was closer to being truly his. Still, her disobedience could not go unpunished.

The internal battle was visible for a fleeting second, the tightening of the skin around his eyes, the slight flare of his nostrils, the white-knuckled grip on his glass. Then, with a force of will that was almost supernatural, he forced the urges to recede. The turbulence didn’t vanish; it was compressed, frozen into a core of arctic-cold threat.

He set his glass down quietly. “I do not like repeating myself,” he said, his voice dangerously calm, each word precisely enunciated, “The subject of my wife is off limits.” He leaned forward, just slightly, his gaze pinning her to her seat, “If you insist on continuing in the same strand, there will be consequences. This is your last warning.”

A violent shiver, equal parts fear and a strange, thrilling respect, ran down Rei’s spine. The raw, unchecked emotion she had let loose shriveled under the absolute authority in his tone. She had pushed too far, and the abyss had stared back. Looking down into the deep red of her wine, the fight drained out of her. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I- I’m sorry Takumi… I lost my temper,” she murmured, the words barely audible.

The silence that returned was heavier than before, the temporary truce strained. He had reasserted his dominance, punished her transgression, and in doing so, had only made the tangled web of desire, ambition and control between them more visible. With a repentant look she poured him more wine. A much-needed tranquility gradually settled over them as they sipped silently, both watching the city beyond the vast windows.

“About the jewelry’s Bicoca recordings,” she began, steering the conversation back to safer, more tactical ground, “The data from the… forced scenario was flawed. You said so yourself. So, I have a proposal. ” He turned from the window, his grey eyes sharpening, but not with anger, with interest. “For the next few weeks, don’t restrict or instruct me. No limitations. Let the jewelry just… observe how I am. The authentic me, when I’m not performing a specific scenario for you. During my free time here, and maybe eventually on the weekends at my apartment, I’ll do whatever I want… with whoever I want”, she held her breath, waiting for the dismissal, the reassertion of control.

Takumi studied her, observing the calculation in her eyes, but also seeing the logic. He had come to respect her mind, her unique perspective that was proving more valuable than simple obedience. “A baseline,” he mused, nodding slowly, “An authentic dataset against which future more concentrated circumstances can be measured.”

He steepled his fingers, “For a limited time, your scheduled obligations to me and the project’s meetings remain – but all time outside of that is your own. But to monitor this effectively, you will continue to stay fulltime at the penthouse, no excursions to Sakura Avenues or Chochin…  and no contact with your old Den.” The allowance was staggering. It wasn’t freedom, but it was a taste of sovereignty, a space to breathe. Even with the condition of having to stay within the walls of the plaza and his highlight of Karasu’s amputation from her life, Rei felt relieved.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the moment passed. Takumi’s eyes clouded slightly, the weariness seeping back in. He finished his wine and stood, the movement fluid but heavy. “It’s late,” he said, his voice returning to its more familiar, subdued register. He picked up his jacket, “We have the Helix Apex integration review at seven.” Rei remained seated, “I’ll be ready.” 

Rei felt a confusing mix of triumph and unease. She had won a significant battle, carving out a piece of her life back from his control. But the victory felt intertwined with the disarming sight of Takumi Kuroda discussing the benefits and shortcomings of soy sauces, apologizing for his busy schedule and furiously but fairly putting her in place during her jealous fit.

He was becoming a man, not just a monster, and that was a far more perilous landscape to navigate. As she stood in the silent penthouse, the weight of the jewelry felt a little lighter, and the terrifying, nascent feeling of being seen began to bloom alongside her carefully nurtured plans for revenge.

Takumi paused at the elevator door, looking back at her. The fatigue was a mask, but behind it, she saw the man who had debated tamari with her, a man of intense, fastidious opinion, hidden beneath layers of ruthless ambition. “The wine,” he said, gesturing to the bottle, “Finish it within three days. It shouldn’t be wasted.” Then the doors whispered shut, and he was gone.

Rei sat in the renewed silence, the rich taste of Burgundy and the mentally conjured taste of tamari lingering in her mind. The visit hadn’t been about seduction, punishment or even data. It had been a flicker of something else; a shared exhaustion, a momentary meeting of minds in the most unexpected of places.

It was a truce more disarming than any conflict, because for a few minutes, he hadn’t been her warden; he had just been a tired man and that, Rei realized as she poured herself another glass of the priceless wine, was far more unsettling.