Eidolon

Warning (PG16)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

The Aspark glided into the mall’s underground car park, a space of modern, polished brick and soft, ambient lighting. As they made their way through the parking to the elevator and out into the bright, bustling halls, they created a ripple of quiet attention. The looks they received weren’t the judgmental stares of the hotel lobby, but something more curious and assessing.

A pair of men in designer attire glanced their way, first with amusement at Rei’s silk pajamas. But their smiles faltered as their eyes truly took in her face, her striking frame, the ruby hair, the innate elegance that transcended her outfit. Their gazes then slid to Cillian’s tall, broad-shouldered frame encased in the impeccable brown suit, and a flicker of disappointment crossed their faces. The unspoken assumption was clear: she’s with him.

Similarly, a group of women, their blonde hair sleek and styled, first noticed Cillian. Their eyes appreciatively traced his form, lingering on his handsome profile and the startling green of his eyes. Their attention then turned, quizzically, to Rei’s unconventional attire before snapping back to Cillian with renewed confident interest. Finally, their gaze settled confidently on Rei’s face, only to freeze there. The realization of her beauty seemed to hit them like a cold shower, their expressions shifting in an instant to either haughty dismissal or quiet discouragement.

Cillian, for his part, seemed to look straight through the spectacle, his posture that of a professional on duty. But Rei, with her trained eye for reading a room, knew his security-trained mind was registering every glance, every shift in body language. She observed it all with rapt attention and unveiled enjoyment, fascinated by the silent narrative they were creating.

As they entered the first store that interested Rei, a vibrant space with glass mannequins dressed in bold textiles, she leaned in close to Cillian. “I’m sorry, I seem to be scaring off all the Norwegian blondes checking you out,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Cillian chuckled, a low, dry sound, “Don’t trouble yourself. I’m way too busy keeping the eager guys away from you,” he countered smoothly then sighed with satirically heavy disappointment, “Unfortunately, I don’t have time for blondes at the moment”.

Grinning, Rei turned her attention to the racks of clothes, her expression transforming into that of a kid in a candy store. Fashion had always been a passion, but one previously experienced only through magazines and billboards. Later, her wardrobe had been curated first by Karasu’s underworld flair, then by Takumi’s corporate chic. Now, for the first time, she was making a collage on her own body.

Her selections were instinctive, a reflection of her current world. She picked out a pair of wide-leg jeans with a subtle, swirling bamboo pattern. She added a crop top featuring tigers on the prowl, their forms powerful. Finally, she chose a fluffy angora wool sweater embroidered with a troll that, with its grimacing features, was strangely reminiscent of an Oni.

The sweater’s cozy bulk was a stark contrast to her usual sleek attire. She was consciously seeking out plus-size styles with the iconography of the power that now bound her, dressing herself defiantly for the man she was scheduled to cook for. Arms full of her chosen armor, she dove into the changing room, a polished metal box in a row of many.

The shiny door of the changing room clicked shut, leaving Cillian standing guard amidst a riot of bold patterns and clashing textiles. He surveyed the racks with a look of detached disapproval, his classic sensibilities clearly offended by the proliferation of embroidered demons and prowling predators.

He didn’t consider the approach of the pretty blue-eyed girl relevant to him, until she was beside him, holding up a long-sleeved shirt patterned with swirling waves and clusters of seaweed. She spoke to him in melodic Norwegian. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Norwegian,” he said, turning his professional, polite gaze on her.

She blushed, switching to flawless English, “My apologies! I just wanted to ask… would you mind trying on this shirt? I work for a fashion magazine, and we’re doing a feature on this brand. You have just the perfect frame for it.” She gave him a suggestive smile, “Your eyes… they would shine even more brilliantly against this blue-green.” Cillian’s attention flickered instinctively to the changing room where Rei was hidden, “I’m flattered, but I’m here with someone. I don’t really have time for—”

The door swung open, cutting him off. Rei emerged, transformed. The bamboo-patterned jeans and the tiger-print crop top, hidden under the bulk of the troll-embroidered sweater, should have been a chaotic mess. Instead, she looked effortlessly cool and entirely herself.

She did a little spin in Cillian’s direction, her eyes immediately catching the presence of the other woman. A bright, curious smile blossomed on her face. “How do I look Cillian?” she asked him first, then turned her friendly, open expression to the girl, “Hi there – and what do you think?”

The girl, who later introduced herself as Astrid, looked momentarily shocked, taking a subtle step back from Cillian. But her professional excitement quickly overrode her personal disappointment. “It’s fantastic on you! Your mix of patterns is very bold, but you carry it with such confidence!” she gushed, her eyes alight, “Actually, you both have such incredible presence. I was just asking your boyfriend if he would model for our feature. We’d love to have you both as part of the shoot!”

Cillian opened his mouth to deliver a firm, definitive rejection for the pair of them and set the record straight regarding the nature of their relationship, but Rei was faster. “Really? That sounds fun. I really love these playful fabrics!” Rei said, her enthusiasm genuine, “The combinations you can make with these clothes are so expressive.” She stepped closer, peering at the shirt in Astrid’s hands, “This with those linen trousers over there, would look amazing on him.”

Astrid’s eyes widened, and she pulled out a thick collection book. For a few minutes, the two of them were lost in a world of fabric swatches and suggested pairings. Rei complimented the designs and offered fresh combinations. Cillian stood rigid beside them, the dread of the impending spectacle solidifying in his gut.

Sure enough, they were soon being ushered into a closed-off section of the store, a photo set already buzzing with activity. Other models were being photographed under bright lights. Astrid explained the deal: no payment in Funding Units, but they could keep all the clothes, shoes and accessories they were fitted with.

Cillian, deeply uncomfortable, was about to refuse, stating he had no need for a wardrobe of seaweed shirts. But Rei cut him off, grabbing his arm and leaning into him with a convincing, girlfriend-like familiarity. “Isn’t that great babe?” she exclaimed, her voice a little too cute, “All these clothes! We should do it.” She agreed to everything without giving him time to protest, and soon they were being funneled through makeup and a rapid-fire fitting.

Finally, they stood before the camera under the hot lights. The photographer, a man with impossibly tall hair and prominent cheekbones, directed them through a series of stiff posh poses before urging them to be more natural, “Okay, now, just a hug. Maybe a little dance? You two really are a striking couple!” Rei thanked him, but Cillian tensed, his body going stiff. The thought of Takumi’s certain, jealous fury upon discovering these photos was a cold splash of reality.

Rei felt the tension coil in his arm. She leaned into him, placing a reassuring hand on his chest, her face tilting up to his until they were mere inches apart. It was the closest they had been since that first quiet, charged night of poker. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, her voice for his ears only, “I’ll make sure Takumi understands that this was all my crazy idea.” Her gaze was earnest, promising to shield him.

For Cillian, time seemed to freeze, the studio brightness blurring into a halo around her face. The photographer went wild, the shutter clicking frantically. “Perfect! Perfect! Yes! Just like that! Don’t move!” he chanted, the word ‘perfect’ stuttering into a breathless mantra. He was capturing a moment of pure, unguarded tension, a stolen intimacy that was entirely real, even if the context was a complete fabrication.

The photoshoot continued in a whirlwind of fabric and flashing lights. After the initial, charged moment, Cillian seemed to decide that if he was trapped in this circus, he might as well have a bit of fun with it. He began to improvise, his stoic professionalism giving way to his wry sense of humor.

For one series, he was dressed in trousers with a wild floral print and a chunky knit shirt, while Rei wore a flowing skirt covered in leaping colorful fish and a tight-fitting top patterned like coral. As the photographer called for another ‘natural’ pose, Cillian leaned in, his lips close to Rei’s ear. His whisper was a low, warm rumble, “I’ve had enough of this spectacle. We’re leaving after this one.”

Before she could respond, he effortlessly scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He took a few purposeful strides as Rei burst into laughter, drumming her fists playfully against his back. “Cillian, no! Be patient! Just a few more photos and then I’ll buy you lunch!” she pleaded between giggles, her fish-print skirt swaying with his movement. The photographer, ecstatic, captured it all, the images a bizarre blend of high fashion and playful chaos.

Finally, blessedly, it was over. Astrid had all their new clothes, a vibrant collection of bold textiles featuring florals, maritime themes and animal motifs, packaged in pretty, mirror-like plastic boxes lined with silk paper. “Thank you so much,” she gushed, grinning at them, “You were the cutest couple we’ve photographed yet!”