Hospitals and Songbirds

Ryuji’s eyes popped open to the sight of a now-unfamiliar white ceiling and blinding fluorescent lights. His body folded up and he drew a sharp breath as he noticed the constraints around him. The air had a cold, sterile taste to it. The mask where it came from made him slightly claustrophobic.

He reached up to pull it off, seeing an IV stuck on his left arm. Medical equipment gave off a rhythmic beep and whirl that made it unmistakable where he was and what had happened.

Trying to sit up immediately caused a burst of pain in his abdomen.

“Yep, that stings. Getting shot does that for sure.”

He recalled that moment when Takashima burst back in to take revenge. Shirokawa yelled out a moment too late, and this was the result.

Ryuji shook his head as the memories came flooding back. He felt groggy, tapping his head to sort out what else had happened. Needless to say, someone had brought him to safety afterward. He felt the urge to dial up his kyoudai to get a clearer picture.

Not to mention…

What the hell was up with that dream? That was the most bizarre encounter I’ve ever thought up.

A dream nurse, tending to his mind in some kind of dreamscape. The boys would probably drink their hearts out to that story if he ever told it. It was as crazy as they came. Likely induced by the panic of a near-death experience.

He rested back on his hospital bed and let out a chuckle, parting his gown to dab at the wound on his stomach that had been sewn up. The bullet had likely passed clean through, missing anything too critical. Otherwise, his legend would have ended there.

Ryuji’s eyes hovered over the blood-clotted gauze, wondering about the actual damage, but then, the door to his room slid open. A doctor around his age popped in, clipboard in hand and a silly grin on his face. He looked like some rich kid whose parents had paid him through medical school. The lightness of his steps made Ryuji wonder if he was a proper physician at all.

“The dragon has awoken, it seems. From what I hear, a bullet or two shouldn’t be too much of an issue, but I still have to recommend limited activity for the next few weeks, if possible.”

Ryuji subconsciously turned, hiding his back. Even though it was a needless action given his circumstances, yakuza shied away from common areas like gremlins in the light.

Seeing his reaction, the doctor nonetheless waltzed right up to him and set the clipboard down.

“Relax, Yamaoka-san. This is a hospital owned by the Tenjou Clan. Even if it operates by normal standards, we have measures to place certain people in our care. I think the special ward is a discreet place even for someone like you. The name’s Higashi, Higashi Haru. Doctor Higashi if you want to be proper. You’re in the ward for comatose patients at Tokyo Metropolitan Medical.”

Ryuji eyed the offered handshake before looking up to analyze the doctor’s face for any hidden intentions. Being in the underworld for so long had given him a sixth sense for feeling out people’s masks. Still, the clear gleam in Doctor Higashi’s eyes spoke of nothing ill, but rather, a hint of childishness and curiosity. Strikingly familiar to…

“I don’t think you need to worry so much about me. Especially not after you had an eventful encounter with our Nurse Grace.”

“Wait, that wasn’t all made up?” Ryuji sputtered, tensing up.

“Afraid not. She leaves quite the impression, doesn’t she? I had a similar look of disbelief the first time I bumped into her, many years ago. It makes me chuckle every time a new face reacts to her. Grace is the star of this profession, the only one capable enough to bring people roaring back to consciousness.”

“What the hell is she?! How can she just dive into my mind and, and show up at my old home like that?!”

“Think of her like an experimental AI that can read your memories and act upon them. An optimized solution to light up your brain processes to the maximum, so that consciousness is sufficiently aroused. A strong will to live is rather important for the road to recovery.”

Ryuji brought a hand up to his head, recalling how ‘real’ his old home felt. It was more so than any dream he had before, which were typically hazy and vague. The taste of cream was rich, and his sense of pain was sharp.

He sat up, suddenly wondering if what he was feeling now was any different. He was groggy still, and in pain. The edges of his vision were slightly hazy, and he suddenly found it hard to focus.

“Careful, there. Just keep resting. You woke up from a sudden spike in brain activity, but you’re nowhere near stable just yet. Most patients need to ease themselves back to normal, so just let Nurse Grace take care of you until then. I’ll be here on this side to make sure things remain stable.”

Ryuji’s vision dimmed as he looked up at the doctor with skepticism. Leaving his care to a quack doctor and his techno mumbo jumbo nurse seemed like such a stretch.

“Have fun, Yamaoka Ryuji.”

Those words rang out above him as he faded back into the darkness.

v

“Welcome back!”

Ryuji was greeted with a cheery grin right in his face. The pink hair and otherworldly presence of Grace told him immediately that he was dreaming again.

Undeterred by his eyeroll, the dream nurse brought her hands forward to pull him up.

“Hey, stop that. I can get up my-”

Ryuji’s words stopped in his throat as the surroundings sank in.

“This place…”

His head whipped around at the familiar room of western design but Japanese décor. But more than anything, a large emblem hung on the back wall, indicating exactly where his mind had fallen into.

“Oyabun…”

It was the home of Chairman Honjou, the father figure that he looked up to. But more than anything, it was where his thoughts of joining the yakuza had started.

Ryuji rose to his feet, walking over to a clean desk where a neatly-wrapped package of goodies was placed. The scent of baked goods drifted to his nose, bringing tears to the corner of his eyes. With trembling hands, he pulled back the cloth, revealing a box with the words “Yamaoka Bakery” upon them.

“Why are you doing this?” Ryuji turned to ask a patiently-waiting Grace.

“Irasshaimaseeee!” Grace replied with a twirl, her nurse outfit morphing into that of a counter server, peddling treats. She beamed a smile that made Ryuji pause in awe, making him swallow before asking again.

“Why are you showing me this, Miss Grace?”

“Deeply held core memories, ones that define your character, are undoubtedly the most effective at neural stimulation. Of course, I have scanned through your thoughts and chosen ‘good’ memories for positive feedback. Negative memories usually result in a recoil of one’s will to live and should be avoided, unless totally necessary.”

“No, I mean, why have you chosen this place, this one memory? I’ve had plenty of fun occasions throughout the years. If all you wanted was to replay some happy moments, then I have lots to go off of!”

“I see… but even now, does your heart not race at the very sight of this atmosphere?”

Ryuji gripped his chest, suddenly noticing the vigorous thumping. It rang in his ears. It made him perk up at every noise to hear over it.

“I WANT TO JOIN THE FAMILY!”

A boyish holler echoed in the room, a declaration from decades ago. It was his younger self with an earnest plea to the Honjou head. At the time, he didn’t know that that same man was the Chairman of the entire Tenjou Clan that oversaw Kanto. Ryuji was simply a teenager with dreams to protect and youth to gamble away.

“Come back when you’re older, brat. You can’t protect shit as you are.”

The words of the man before him were resolute, but promising, nonetheless. They lit a fire that Ryuji never knew he had, and for the first time in his life, he had a distant goal to work towards.

“I won’t let you down.”

Ryuji’s younger self said before marching out of the room. All of this happened like a hologram playing out before Ryuji, which was strange considering he was within a dream anyway. But the pounding in his chest sure didn’t feel like it was contained to one. It was the same anticipation as if he freshly renewed his yakuza vows. Surely, his body on the other side was getting steeped in vitality from this encounter.

Ryuji looked around and noticed that Grace had vanished.

“Huh, Miss Grace?”

The distant melody of piano music was his reply. He stood up and ambled toward the door, the notes growing clearer as they tickled his ears.

A wave of nostalgia swept over him. Though he was hardly a fan of classical music, the pleasant tune gripped him by the chest as he found himself drawn forward by its familiarity.

Before long, his chin started to tremble. A deep breath sucked into his lungs as his lips tasted the word that he had long dropped from speaking.

“Ojou…”

He felt like a bullet had struck him, his body teetering forward as his legs wanted to give out. But still, he corrected and marched forward. The sounds that were so precious pulled him like a collar around his neck.

Ryuji pushed the door open, leading to a wide ballroom that housed a grand piano. His eyes grew hazy as they turned to the one playing the music. Pink hair tossed as fingers flew across the keys, nimble but gentle. Though the windows were closed, a breeze somehow washed over him, along with the chirping of songbirds and the scent of spring.

He recalled the first time that he heard it. A young girl, still in elementary school, had made him stop abruptly in the middle of his delivery. It was like he had discovered a fairy in a garden. Her slender fingers and flowing raven hair was seared in his eyes as he was taken on a trip to some magical world purely through song. And before he knew it, enough time had passed that the box of treats he held had lost the warmth from the oven.

He would later find out that she was the daughter of the Honjou patriarch, a prodigy in the music world. But that mattered far less than the expression on her face as she played – pure bliss, yet a hint of hidden longing – like she was searching for something missing.

The foolishness of his childhood told him to walk right up to her and offer a treat, perhaps as thanks for the music. The girl stopped and gingerly took his gift, beaming a smile of wonder.

It was a simple cream puff, but she stared at it like a gemstone was offered instead. When innocent curiosity had waned and hunger took over, she was left with a face full of cream. A delightful giggle escaped her lips.

“I like-”

Thunder struck Ryuji’s nerves. Perhaps, it was because it was his first time making them for customers. Maybe, it was the fact that he personally saw the taster’s enjoyment. Whatever the case, he was floored.

A female servant entered the room, likely wondering where their guest had gone, and redirected Ryuji to the kitchen. She took the girl by the hand and led her out of the room. With all smiles, the girl turned back and called out.

“Thanks for the treat, onii-chan. My name is Miyabi. Please bring more next time!”

He made it a goal to personally make and deliver the cream puffs every time an order was received. It was an excuse to hear her again. To see her. To connect with something magical.

The final notes drew to a close, leaving an echo of the melody hanging in Ryuji’s mind. He turned to the dream nurse that had recreated that moment, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“How was my playing? I hope it lives up to what you remember. Memories can be hard to interpret sometimes.”

“How are you able to do that?”

“We have a machine to scan your mind and automatically transfer the data to my-”

“No, I mean, how are you able to shake me up so well? You’re a program, right? An AI that is meant to make me want to live so I can wake up again.”

“That is... correct.”

“Then, you should know what happens next makes me want to die!”

Ryuji dashed out of the room and left the house, running into a foggy, white existence. He couldn’t bear to stand there any longer. The bittersweet memories only made the regret come that much stronger.

He ran into the whiteness, hoping that it would somehow hide his tears from Grace. He was fine when others were around to distract him, but being alone made it all come back.

His legs kept going, until the house was far behind him. For years and years, he had kept running to avoid ever looking back on what he had lost.

To forget the moment that he failed to protect Ojou’s life.