Eidolon

Warning (PG18)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

The food was transported to a low dining table positioned before a vast window framing a sunset that set the sky ablaze in hues of orange. As they began to eat, the flavors exploded; the spicy-sweet kick of the tteokbokki, the savory-sweet harmony of the japchae, the satisfying mix of the bibimbap. Reon offered genuine compliments between bites, his satisfaction evident. Rei took command of the soju bottle, pouring for them both with a steady hand that ensured their glasses were never empty for long.

Rei’s cheeks had taken on a warm, rosy glow from keeping pace with him. After a round, she discreetly only filled her glass halfway. Reon’s observant eyes caught the move immediately. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” he asked, a teasing challenge in his voice. Rei finished chewing a rice cake with deliberate slowness.

When she spoke, her tone was meticulously formal and respectful, a clear effort to navigate the slippery slope of inebriation and etiquette, “I fear it would not be very becoming for a concubine to act drunk and risk being sloppy or crude…  or would it, Honored Master?” She met his gaze, her own slightly hazy but earnest, “Of course, I’m willing to adhere to any Oni traditions. If you wish to drink me under the table, I have no choice but to comply.”

Reon didn’t laugh, but a new kind of smile graced his lips. He could see the alcohol already softening her movements, slowing her reactions. “An Oni Concubine,” he conceded, “especially one with a high ranking master such as you, Kitsu, should always aim to maintain perfect poise. It seems you lack the stomach to be my drinking buddy.” 

Rei conceded with a cheeky look, “Indeed, you are far too brilliant at drinking.” She struck a delicate pose, hands demurely folded, neck gracefully bent. It would have looked perfect in a kimono but, in her tiger-print crop top and wide-legged bamboo jeans, it made her look like an ironically posing K-pop idol, “How could a delicate thing like me ever hope to match you?”

That broke his composure and Reon burst out laughing, the sound rich and unguarded in the quiet room. He finished his bibimbap and leaned back, his expression shifting from amusement to solemnity. The air in the room seemed to still.

“Kitsu,” he began, his tone firm and resonant, the voice of the Ceremonial Master. Rei adjusted her posture instantaneously, the playful glint in her eyes replaced by focused attention. “Though your decision to not fear me and be open has been a great source of enjoyment for me,” Reon started, his gaze unwavering, “it’s my duty to school you in how such casual thoughtlessness is not suited for an Oni Concubine.”

He reached into the back pocket of the linen pants she had given him and produced a slim, portable visual display. With a tap, he triggered a holographic projection that floated above the table. He flipped through a series of images, the photos from her modeling shoot earlier that day. Rei’s breath caught. Astrid had said those photos needed to be filtered and would be sent within the week. A quick, surreptitious glance at her comms confirmed she had received nothing.

Reon stopped on a specific image: the one where Rei had her hand on Cillian’s chest, leaning in to whisper in his ear. The photograph was stunningly intimate. Cillian’s green eyes were fixed on the curve of her neck, his expression a complex mix of listening intensity and something far deeper. Rei stared, shocked by the image’s power and by the fact that Reon possessed it. He let the photo hang in the air for a long, charged moment.

Then, he flicked his finger. The image changed to the one of Cillian carrying her effortlessly over his shoulder, her face alight with a beautiful, unforced laugh as she playfully struggled. A soft gasp escaped Rei, both at the astonishing fact that Reon had all these photos at hand and at how convincingly, joyfully like a real couple they looked. 

“Your spontaneous modeling stunt,” Reon explained, his voice cool and analytical, “was exceptionally easy to gather evidence of. After all, you not only told me it happened, you gave me the name of the brand and the scout. A few calls from my associates were all it took to acquire the raw files before your own copy even cleared the photographer’s filter.” He leaned forward, the projected images casting a glow on his face, “This is the most damning carelessness I must correct. Every action has consequences, Kitsu. Your moment of ‘fun’ leaves a digital footprint – and in our world, footprints can be used to build traps.”

The reality of the situation crashed down on her. Even if she could explain to Takumi that it was all just a game, the visual evidence was damning. She had openly, even in pretend, flirted with another man after Takumi had formally branded her as his. She swallowed, her gaze dropping to the uneaten food on her plate. “Seeing the photos… it’s clear to me now,” she began, her voice quiet as she attempted the difficult balance between excuse and explanation, “I was thoughtless playing the model. As Takumi’s concubine, I should never even jokingly flirt with someone else.”

Reon hummed, a sound of partial agreement. He flicked his finger, and the projection changed to another image: Rei and Cillian in a slow dance, her arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies close. “As Kumi’s Oni Concubine,” Reon corrected, his voice alarmingly smooth, “you are to obey him.”

Rei’s head snapped up, her eyes alert. Though Takumi hadn’t told her to seduce Reon, he had ordered her not to disrespect him, and in Oni terms, that meant not to turn him down. She remained perfectly still, weighing her next words carefully. Then, daringly, she bowed her neck in a show of respect before asking, “How is it that you, Honored Master, even after the initiation ritual that bound me to Takumi, are able to command me? Does your claim… override his?”

Reon raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by the bold question in the midst of her scolding. After some deliberation he decided to grant her an answer. He turned off the display and walked around the table to kneel directly beside her. His fingers, warm and stable, lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his terrifying gaze. “As a Ceremonial Master,” he explained, “every concubine I help initiate is, by default, also mine. I command Kumi, therefore, in order to command him, I command what is his – I command you.”

His grip on her chin tightened almost imperceptibly, “In your careless courage, you made a crucial mistake: you disregarded the fear that protects the Oni machine. Fear keeps you alert, it keeps you obedient and cautious. You may have thought playing model in a new town was harmless fun. But those photos?”

He released her chin, his gesture encompassing the now-vanished images, “They could be used for all kinds of propaganda and misinformation. They could damage your value as Eidolon’s Brand Ambassador; and within the Oni, they create an image of Kumi as a man with an unruly, disloyal concubine. In our world, managing information is not a skill, Kitsu, it’s the fundamental requirement for surviving within the syndicate.” Rei’s blood ran cold. The casual afternoon of fun now felt like a brush with a danger she hadn’t even seen.

Reon smiled wickedly, but his voice softened slightly, “You are very naïve in the ways of the Oni. The responsibility of your ignorance partially rests on Kumi – he has prioritized your corporate duties over briefing you in your concubine obligations. Thankfully, you told me about your blunder directly and soon enough for me to acquire the photos and take care of the issue. They will never see the light of day. The Oni is not only masterful in gathering, but also in controlling information.”

He stood, pulling her up with him by a guiding hand wrapped behind her neck. He studied her beautiful, now-frightened face, a grim satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Good concubine, Kitsu,” he purred, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin beneath her ear, “You should be scared, you should use that fear. Never be so foolish again.” He leaned closer, his breath a whisper against her cheek, “Fun? That is not something you decide to have on a day off with your security personnel – it’s a gift bestowed upon you by your masters, by Kumi… or by me.”

Rei gathered herself, letting the genuine fear he had instilled still radiate from her, while she also drew upon her inner resilience. Her spine straightened, her shoulders settled into a line of graceful dignity, and her eyes, though wide, held a new strength as she met his stern gaze. “Honored Master, I’ve been a fool,” she began, her voice clear and steady, “I see that clearly. I apologize for my recklessness and will accept my punishment.”

A flash of genuine worry then crossed her features. She glanced out the window at the deepening twilight, then back at Reon, “Have you… have you told Takumi? Will he be the one to…?” She left the question hanging, but her preference was clear. Rei would rather face Takumi’s fury than Reon’s calculated games.

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. Without a word, he released her and retrieved his comms. With a few taps, he initiated a holographic call. Rei froze. Takumi answered within seconds, his image materializing in the space between them. The connection was crystal clear, and Rei recognized the sleek interior of their hotel suite behind him.

“Is the connection secure?” Reon asked, his tone casual. “It is,” Takumi confirmed, his voice carefully neutral. He gave a shallow, respectful bow of his head, “Honored Ceremonial Master.” Reon waved a dismissive hand, “Kumi. I trust you had a chance to review the photos I sent?”

Takumi’s jaw tensed visibly and a muscle twitched near his eye, “I have. You have my thanks for handling the matter swiftly…”, a tense pause hung in the air before he continued, “And you have my apologies for Kitsune’s indiscretion. I have already spoken with the security detail and planned her disciplinary measures extensively. I’m prepared to collect her personally.”

From his vantage point, Takumi could see Rei standing in the periphery of Reon’s holographic feed. His grey eyes scanned her patterned, casual outfit, his expression hardening with clear disappointment. Reon’s tone shifted suddenly, becoming almost jovial, “There’s no need for all that, truly. I have no problem taking on the necessary disciplinary penalties myself. I would gladly take her off your hands. I should be able to send her back in a few days.”

The change in Takumi was subtle but profound to anyone who knew him. His perfect composure frayed at the edges. His shoulders tightened, his eyes narrowed to slits, and his breathing slowed to a dangerous calm. Despite that, his voice remained level, a testament to his control. “I understand,” he said, the words seeming to cost him, “However, given our critical position with the Helix Apex timeline, I must request that her… instruction… be confined to the evenings. I require Kitsune present at certain meetings throughout the days next week.”

Reon looked momentarily annoyed, as if irked profoundly by the inconvenience introduced to his plans. He sighed theatrically, “Very well. You may collect her around lunchtime tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, he severed the connection, Takumi’s tense image vanishing into nothingness. Reon turned his full attention back to Rei, his expression one of amusement, “It seems your corporate duties have granted you a temporary reprieve, Kitsu. But your evenings now belong to me – until I’ve ensured you’ve learned a lasting lesson.”

The shock of being so casually traded between masters reverberated through Rei, a cold tremor settling deep in her bones. Her mind raced, recalibrating to the stark new reality: like during the ritual, she was now entirely at Reon’s mercy for her punishment. Visions of what that could entail, humiliation, pain, sexual servitude, played out behind her eyes like a terrifying film. She needed a moment to think, to find some semblance of control in a situation designed to strip it all away.

Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself to her knees before him, bowing deeply. The gesture was one of surrender, but also a strategic pause. Reon seemed pleased. He lowered himself as well, settling onto one knee, remaining elevated above her, a physical manifestation of their hierarchy. “Will you behave now, Kitsu?” he asked, his voice a caress that promised retribution.