Eidolon

Warning (PG18)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

The hot spring was a marvel of contradiction, a natural-looking grotto carved directly into the mountain, yet the water was perfectly heated and filtered by a hidden, technological heart. Steam rose in gentle clouds, blurring the sharp edges of the stone.

Rei stood at the edge, her mind racing. If the main trial of control was for Takumi’s benefit, and he was no longer here to witness it, what was the point of continuing the charade?

The question must have been plain on her face. Reon chuckled, the sound echoing softly, “Don’t fret, Kitsu. I’m not going to spank you.” Rei didn’t laugh. She merely lifted a skeptical eyebrow and took a cautious step back towards the water’s inviting warmth.

Reon sighed, a theatrical sound, “You don’t have much reason to trust me, huh?” He shrugged, the motion fluid in the steam, “Well, this part of the trial is for you. You are still under my command, but I would like you to relax. I promise, I won’t order you to do anything you don’t want.” A visible wave of relief washed over Rei. The breath she’d been holding escaped in a sigh.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly, “…I actually love hot springs.” Choosing, for now, to take him at his word, she turned her back to him. With an impressive casualness, she unhooked the golden corset, letting it fall away, and hung it neatly on a nearby wooden rack. She performed the customary rinse with quiet efficiency, her movements natural, serene, not bothering to ask permission for any of it.

Reon did the same, revealing a body that was a testament to his craft; powerfully defined and etched with the similarly intricate tattoos to those that marked Takumi, though his were still vibrant and even more plentiful. He also had an Oni demon tattoo above his heart.

As far as Rei knew, only the highest-ranking members of the founding families had the right to such tattoos. She studied him openly as she sank into the blissfully hot water, the heat immediately beginning to soothe her aching muscles. “So Reon, apart from these rituals, what do you do? Do you train martial arts all day long?” she asked, her voice relaxed.

Reon laughed, joining her in the water. He kept a small almost respectful distance, “A big part of a Ceremonial Master’s responsibility is teaching and maintaining the Iron Oni Fist. But it’s not my only duty.” He sank deeper, his cerulean eyes finding hers through the steam, “Thankfully I regularly have the pleasure of performing rituals – such as this one with you, Kitsu.” He looked at her for a long, weighted moment before adding, “And other, more boring, leadership duties.”

Rei closed her eyes, surrendering to the warmth, letting it seep into her bones. She felt the water shift as Reon moved closer, not touching, but invading her personal space. She didn’t open her eyes. “Please don’t come any closer, Reon,” she mumbled, her voice drowsy but firm. The movement in the water stopped instantly.

When she opened her eyes, he didn’t look angry as she had feared. Instead he was smiling, a new, strangely pleased expression on his face. He leaned back against the rock, his body almost, but not quite, touching hers.

“You are both exactly what I expected,” he observed, his voice a low rumble in the steam, “and impossible to fully envision. As beautiful, alluring, feisty, infuriating and cunning as my intel told me. Yet, meeting you in person… it seems the combination of all that is hopeless to really contain with words.” Rei’s jaw nearly dropped beneath the water. The string of compliments was so honest, so profound, it left her utterly speechless.

Reon laughed, throwing his head back against the stone. Then he reached out, his finger gently pushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “And that,” he said, his gaze darkening with intensity, “the flashes of honest reactions and innocence… the spice of purity and transparency in all your sinful elegance… that’s the most intoxicating part.”

Reon was a beautiful man, undeniably so, and the uncanny resemblance to Karasu sent a familiar, dangerous thrill through her. Her body was warming for reasons that had nothing to do with the spring. But she would not let herself be seduced by a self-proclaimed appreciator of ‘ceremonial abuse’, especially not after he had promised not to order her around.

Rei swallowed, inching slowly away through the water, creating distance. She didn’t go far, just enough to make her point. “Flattery won’t work on me,” she said, her tone light, almost joking, “Even if you think all that, it doesn’t change my thoughts.”

Reon’s smile froze, but he didn’t pursue her. Instead, he asked, “And what do you think?” She was surprised he wanted to know. Her mouth opened but she paused, remembering his earlier order against insulting him and saw the trap clearly.

Even if he promised not to order her, he hadn’t said he wouldn’t punish her for breaking a previous rule. She wet her lips, mirroring him by leaning against the stone rim, maintaining the safe distance. “I think you are the best martial artist I have ever spared with,” she said carefully, “Your rank and responsibilities make perfect sense.”

Reon waited, his expression visibly impatient for the ‘but’. Rei rested her head back against the stone, studying him, “And I think that in order to be able to do your job at ceremonies like these, it must be helpful that you clearly enjoy… the bullying.” Her eyes were probing, testing him, seeing if the clinical observation would be counted as an insult.

Reon moved closer through the water. “Yes, Kitsu”, he said, his voice dropping, “That counts as an insult. And yes, I will punish you for it. Admittedly, I’m somewhat sadistically inclined.” He tilted his head, “So why did you take the risk?”

Rei didn’t shy away. “To make you reveal yourself,” she answered without hesitation, “To make you show your true colors. Here, with no Takumi to perform for, what you reveal is… your own selfishness.” She was echoing his own lesson, throwing the ideology of the Oni’s greatest sin back in his face.

Reon stopped short, caught off guard. The instinct to grab her and reprimand her physically warred with a stunned, intellectual need to dissect her accusation. But as he looked at her, poised and defiant in the water, he realized she wasn’t wrong.

He had feigned respect for her boundaries, only to use it as a technicality to satisfy his own need to touch her, to provoke her. It wasn’t just about testing her obedience for the Iron Oni’s sake. It was because he wanted to. Takumi, the ritual, the collective, in this moment they were all secondary to his own desire. She had seen right through him.

Reon was caught in a whirl of conflicting emotions, which he hadn’t felt in years. A deep, prickling irritation warred with a thrilling sense of aliveness. The old customs, the Oni traditions; they were meaningful. He was good at them and his high rank allowed him the privilege of interpreting the rigid rituals with a creative flair others couldn’t or wouldn’t. But his daily life had become predictable; he always knew the outcome, and he always got his way.

This woman, this Kitsu, was different. Even as he held all the power to bend her to his will, he found himself wanting something more. He wanted her to want to bend, wanted to win her respect, not just her obedience. It was a strange, unsettling desire, surprising in its potency also given that she was, just a Chochin hostess, a corporate model for a digital brothel.

But she was also the woman his untouchable cousin had desired, and the woman the legendary Takumi had branded as his own. Reon had underestimated her sharpness, but even more, he had underestimated the scale of his own growing fascination. And she had seen it, the selfish truth of it, before he had fully acknowledged it himself.

He simply studied her, this defiant, awaiting creature in the water. Her eyes showed him she would endure any punishment for Takumi’s sake, but also that she knew his true motives, that his want of her was not for the syndicate.

Finally, a low chuckle escaped him. Placing his hands on the stone edge behind her back, he edged closer through the water. “What kind of punishment would you like, then?” he asked, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, “Is there one you would consider less selfish, less sadistic of me? You could… hand-wash my underwear?”

Rei laughed. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh, a velvety, musical sound that caught him completely by surprise. How could she look so poised, so utterly relaxed in this moment? She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye, “I could cook for you.”

Reon’s eyebrows shot up in genuine intrigue. The memory of her file surfaced: her mother, the Italian-Japanese chef, the reports of her cooking in her Mirage City penthouse. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face. He nodded, “I accept. But there is no time now. Kumi made it clear that you two are expected at a high-stakes corporate lunch.” He gave her a look that was both a promise and a threat, “It’ll have to be a rain check… a binding one.”

Rei smiled gratefully, “I promise to make you whatever you want to eat another time then,” her tone light but her eyes serious. “I’ll think of something delicious until then,” Reon replied, his voice a low purr.