Meeting of Families

[Eidolon]

The trivial task was met with the same graceful duty of care and attention she applied to everything in her life. Eido did not rush, if only from stubborn refusal to be cowed by the situation she found herself in. While she attended she was wary of any movement in the corner of her eye, for the things she was prepared to tolerate did not extend to the unwanted roam of a stranger’s hands. But there was no need for the vigilance. She decanted the bottle from the tray last and left it on the table between them, with compliments implied not spoken.

The weight of Zixin Kao’s attention afterwards did not go unnoticed, though. Neither was it welcome, but Eido only ignored it.

“You know him from home or something?” Gus enquired as she slid the tray back on the bar towards him. He scrubbed a hand through his thick beard and watched the table over her head. He was not talking about Zixin's stare. Noting the tone, Eido finally considered if retreat might be the wisest course of action. Conversation began to smooth behind, if not entirely friendly then certainly civil, but the knot of responsibility did not ease. She wondered if she was simply mistaking guilt for her brother’s lone work in the shadows. Her finger traced a thin scratch on her wrist. Repeating silently the risks she could and could not take.

When it was clear by his stance Gus was in the mood to persist with his questioning, she shook her head. She did not know him.

“You ever going to actually speak to me?”

“Kuchi wa wazawai no moto,” she responded after a moment. She did not presume Kiyohito was listening, though she believed the Japanese would carry. Such reminders of home always did, to her own regret. He had stirred up too much. Home was not a place she could return to any longer. 

“I can’t decide if you're going to cause me trouble,” Gus grumbled. She could feel the prickle of his attention, but did not look up to meet his gaze. This time when the glasses clinked, it was with a drink he poured for himself. Meanwhile Eido listened. She and Kōta were well travelled since leaving Kyoto, with no small portion of it spent traversing the other islands of southeast Asia. When they first arrived in Moscow, Kōta had been surprised to discover the Syndicate presence here little more than a bastardisation of the red krysha. If they were finally expanding territories it probably meant for turbulent times ahead.

“It means the mouth is the source of disaster,” she said for Gus's benefit.

Zixin knew too much. Kiyohito spoke himself of the careful guard to be kept around knowledge. Yet this stranger offered too quickly, too much, and too freely.

“Is anything simple and innocent?” she added as he downed the vodka in a single swallow.

Gus barked a short laugh. “Including you?”