Eidolon

Warning (PG16)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

As she cleaned up, Yumi glanced at the sleeping woman. With the pain and tension smoothed from her features, Rei looked almost childlike, her mouth slightly agape, her hands curled under her cheek. A flicker of something that wasn’t jealousy, an unwelcome, reluctant admiration, stirred in Yumi’s chest.

She removed the damp cloth from Rei’s mouth and dressed her with brisk, impersonal efficiency, not bothering with gentleness but not being needlessly rough either. Rei didn’t wake, only murmured a soft, unintelligible sound and curled her knees up slightly afterwards.

The door opened just as Yumi was wrapping up. Takumi entered, his gaze immediately drifting to Rei on the table. “How did it go?” he asked Yumi, his eyes fixed on Rei’s sleeping form. Yumi hated the subtle shift in his expression, the way the usual chill in his eyes seemed to thaw just a fraction. She sighed, the sound heavy with resignation, “Your Red is one tough chick. Only passed out after it was all done.”

A genuine flicker of surprise, followed by clear approval, washed over Takumi’s features. He raised an eyebrow, a silent, impressed acknowledgment. “She’ll be sore, but the new sealing spray means no aftercare. The second skin will peel off when it’s ready, like a snake molting.” Yumi explained while starting to pack her tools away in separate casings.

Takumi nodded, his attention never leaving Rei. He moved closer, his steps unnaturally quiet. He reached out and caressed her cheek, his touch gentle. “Rei,” he whispered, attempting to quietly wake her. She just mumbled incoherently, nuzzling unconsciously into his hand.

The sight was too much, too adorable. Yumi wanted them gone, but her curiosity and bitterness got the better of her, the jealousy surged into a white-hot flame. The words spilled out, hard and mean, “You’ve changed, Kumi. You used to be an impenetrable fortress, and now here you are, branding some sexy slut like a dirty old man who can’t—”

Takumi’s head snapped towards her. His glare was not angry, it was utterly, terrifyingly cold. It was the look he’d given Goro before placing the dog’s head on the table. The sheer force of it made Yumi fumble, the metal tool in her hand clattering loudly to the floor.

The sound jolted Rei awake. Her eyes fluttered open against her blindfold with a gasp, urgency in her sightless movements, her hands reaching out into the void, “Takumi?” He was there, pulling her off the table and against his body. “It’s time to leave,” he murmured into her hair, his soft voice a stark contrast to the look he was still leveling at Yumi.

As they passed her, Takumi stopped, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper meant only for Yumi’s ears, “You’re lucky I’m on a schedule. Be careful voicing such unfounded, unprofessional outbursts. Remember, the main Oni does not look kindly on insolence.” The threat was crystal clear. Speak to me like that again, and there will be consequences.

All the fight drained out of Yumi. She swallowed hard, the fear drying out her mouth, and simply bowed her head as Takumi guided Rei out of the room, leaving Yumi alone with the echo of her mistake and her machines.

Takumi led Rei back through the labyrinthine halls, his arm a firm, unyielding bar across her back. “Until next time, Sora,” he said curtly to the baritone-voiced guard, the politeness a thin mask over his impatience. Rei was sore with a deep, throbbing ache that radiated from the base of her spine with every step.

She was desperate to ask about the brand, to understand the permanent mark now etched into her skin, but she could feel the coiled tension in his muscles, sense the rigid set of his jaw. Now was not the time. She let herself be guided, a mute, blindfolded figure, all the way back to the waiting Aspark.

The moment the car door closed, she ripped the blindfold off, blinking in the sudden, sharp afternoon light. Takumi slid in beside her, the scent of antiseptic clinging to his clothes. He immediately rolled the partition up, sealing them from Cillian. “To the hotel,” he commanded through the intercom, “We have about an hour to change.” Rei took a shaky breath, the adrenaline fading, leaving only the persistent, burning soreness. She knew the tattoos were a sacred and secret subject for the Iron Oni, and she couldn’t speak of it directly with Cillian near, but her curiosity was killing her, “The… flower… what—”

“Not now,” he cut her off, his voice flat and final. Frustration bubbled inside her as she leaned back against the seat. The movement sent a fresh jolt of pain from the brand, and she winced, lurching forward with a sharp intake of breath. Takumi’s eyes flicked to her, observing her discomfort with the detached interest of a man watching waves on a shore. Annoyed, Rei turned to stare out the window, the elegant streets of downtown Oslo blurring past as Yumi’s anecdotes of a ruthless, ambitious young Kumi played on a loop in her mind.

The car ascended another cliffside, delivering them to a hotel of stunning, modernist beauty; slabs of cobalt glass and sculpted concrete cantilevered over the fjord. Their penthouse suite was the pinnacle of luxury. The floors a mosaic of green marble, the walls veined white granite, and the ceiling a living sculpture of holographic clouds where digital birds soared over shimmering waves.

“Change into this,” Takumi instructed, pulling a garment bag from the closet. Inside was a dress of liquid silver, backless and sleek, with a high neckline; sexy, formidable and perfectly formal for a crucial dinner. “You will only entertain Bjorn with your ‘musings’ if he explicitly asks. Do not invite the topic yourself – and if I change the subject, you will follow my lead immediately. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Rei agreed, her voice quiet. They changed in the shared bedroom, their luggage already magically unpacked. As Rei let her clothes fall to the floor and stood in front of the full-length mirror, she finally saw it. The seven-petal sakura bloomed just above the cleft of her ass, the metallic pink ink shimmering under the room’s light, the subtle purple watermark giving it an incredible depth. It was beautiful and alarming.

She turned slightly, her eyes meeting Takumi’s reflection as he buttoned his crisp black shirt. “Kumi?” she ventured, the name a soft, testing whisper. His eyes flared with a dangerous heat, but his gaze dropped to the tattoo. He crossed the room in three strides, his hands settling on her bare hips, holding her steady as he studied Yumi’s work. 

“She did a great job,” he murmured, his voice warm with a possessiveness that made her shiver. His thumb gently traced the edge of the inflamed skin, making her gasp. Then his eyes met hers in the mirror, the warmth gone, replaced by a command, “Never call me by that name.” Rei pouted, deciding to lean into the role he had given her. “Now that I’m your Oni concubine,” she said, her tone strategically sweet, “what duties or… privileges… do I have?” 

A sly smile touched his lips. He caressed her waist, then her cheek, before moving back to finish dressing. “I will explain more later,” he said, deftly tying his tie, “All you need to know right now is that I have made sure you are mine. Every other Oni will know you are under my protection”, he paused, his voice dropping, “But also my control. Disloyalty, betrayal – they can turn the brand from one of protection… into a curse.”

The ominous phrasing sent a chill through her, colder than the marble floor. She paused at the vanity, a tube of lipstick in her hand. But he permitted no delay.

“Five minutes,” he stated, and strode out of the room, already impeccably put together in a blue three-piece suit paired with a black shirt, tie and polished shoes, the corporate prince once more, leaving her alone with the impression of his touch and the searing, beautiful brand of his ownership.