01-27-2023, 07:51 PM
Eido sat. It was polite, and there was nowhere she might easily retreat to in the small room, though she wished there had been. After pouring for Kōta, she sat with her hands resting flat on her thighs. Black hair arrowed either side of her face, the pale ghost of her expression empty. Her back remained straight. She was aware the gokudō glanced at her briefly, though she wished he hadn't – she hoped her part in this was now done. In any case she only directed her attention towards watching her brother. He sobered when it came time for business. Severity cut the line of his features. Eido was not accustomed to seeing him so.
She knew he worked on occasion with the Edenokōji in Moscow, and with the Niamatsu back in Osaka before that. Even back home he had been looking for ways to escape the life they had been chosen for, though as it turned out he'd had good reason for his fears. The Yakuza’s reputation had changed since Custody integration, but Eido and Kōta’s clan in Kyoto was ancient; prejudices ran deeply in a people so old, and his dabblings had never been looked on favourably. Eido usually turned her eyes away from his dealings, as she always had. If he had ever maintained contacts of his own within the Korii, Eido didn't know about them. Ignorance was the root of her discomfort now, for she would rather remain it. But duty was the stronger incentive.
“He is an earthquake rumbling in a glass shop. You would know him if you’d seen him,” she added quietly as Kōta perused the picture on the wallet; a repetition of Kiyohito's own description, verbatim, and why Kōta had come so quickly. It was the real reason she had not wanted to stay to hear the discussion to follow. They didn't hunt those born with ancient gifts, not unless they had a reason. And in six years they had never had one. Eido hoped the stir of instinct was utterly wrong; that the description was simply one of exuberant youth.
Kōta was quiet a while, thoughtful.
"I have seen him," he agreed, sliding the wallet back.
She knew he worked on occasion with the Edenokōji in Moscow, and with the Niamatsu back in Osaka before that. Even back home he had been looking for ways to escape the life they had been chosen for, though as it turned out he'd had good reason for his fears. The Yakuza’s reputation had changed since Custody integration, but Eido and Kōta’s clan in Kyoto was ancient; prejudices ran deeply in a people so old, and his dabblings had never been looked on favourably. Eido usually turned her eyes away from his dealings, as she always had. If he had ever maintained contacts of his own within the Korii, Eido didn't know about them. Ignorance was the root of her discomfort now, for she would rather remain it. But duty was the stronger incentive.
“He is an earthquake rumbling in a glass shop. You would know him if you’d seen him,” she added quietly as Kōta perused the picture on the wallet; a repetition of Kiyohito's own description, verbatim, and why Kōta had come so quickly. It was the real reason she had not wanted to stay to hear the discussion to follow. They didn't hunt those born with ancient gifts, not unless they had a reason. And in six years they had never had one. Eido hoped the stir of instinct was utterly wrong; that the description was simply one of exuberant youth.
Kōta was quiet a while, thoughtful.
"I have seen him," he agreed, sliding the wallet back.
![[Image: cherry-blosson.png]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/cherry-blosson.png)