Ojou and Grace

Ryuji woke up to the sound of gentle piano keys tickling his ears. He fought back a grin as a wave a familiarity washed over him, a warmth from his childhood days. He didn’t need to know the technicalities of who wrote it or what era it was famous from. The girl that fondly resided in his memories playing such notes was all that mattered.

He opened his eyes, clefts, crotchets, and quavers flying over him. These black music notes made him jump before he realized that he was in a dream.

There he was again, in Ojou’s room. Yet, a pink-haired girl was playing the piano.

Ryuji had slowly grown used to the sight. Grace was Miyabi. Miyabi was Grace. That much made sense in his mind. What didn’t was the fifteen-year gap that made the two of them so different, yet similar all the same.

His eyes looked over at each of Grace’s features. She was dolled up in a cartoonish charm that was something out of Akihabara. She would have fit right in with Ozaki’s cosplay events at his club, yet an aura of serene innocence told him that she was still that innocent girl that he handed treats to.

The strange outward charm of hers reminded Ryuji of the ‘gal’ types that stuck out with their weird sense of fashion, eye-catching but ultimately skin deep.

When he closed his eyes, Miyabi overlapped where Grace sat.

Black. Pink. Black. Pink.

His mind didn’t know what to make of the presence before him, so flimsy that it didn’t technically exist for anyone but him.

“Are you still mad at me?” Ryuji called out to her as he walked over.

Grace slipped on her next notes, jarring the pleasant tune before self-correcting.

“You ignored me the whole way home,” she ended with a pout.

“Of course, I did. After you controlled my body and made me look like an utter weirdo.”

“You looked like you were having fun.”

“Maybe I did. But I’d appreciate it if you would save that for when I have a handy excuse. Perhaps, a drink in hand. Plus, a necktie around my head.”

Ryuji pulled out a set of drinks and set them on a table before her. He had gotten used to conjuring things from thin air within his dreams. Once he was aware that lucid control was possible around Grace, it had become almost second nature. If someone could create an entire pleasure district in dreams, a few refreshments sounded rather elementary.

Grace stopped playing and gingerly took her drink, a rare streak of embarrassment causing a timid expression.

“I rarely get to be in the real world, so I forget to hold back.” A sheepish laugh cutely left her lips.

“What, the Doc keeping you all to himself? Granted, I can see how easily your abilities could be exploited. You made games of skill trivial with your predictive know-how. I could easily see attacks from ordinary thugs coming at me like a child playfully winding up for a comical punch.”

Fighting aid, gambling cheats, augmented conveniences – Ryuji was starting to see why someone would be looking so hard for the AI program that could supposedly do it all. Grace being human aside, technology that was this much of a game changer wouldn’t have flown under any crime syndicate’s radar. The strange medical devices that he recovered from the Azumito offices suddenly clicked in his head.

It didn’t register at the time, but those devices weren’t that different from the headpiece that he wore to connect with Grace. He could no longer see that as a coincidence. The traitor, Shindou, could have leaked that tech to gain Azumito’s support for the ensuing chaos in the Tenjou Clan.

An internal war between the clan lieutenants was unfolding, the winner at the end looking to claim the largest underground group in Japan. It was significant enough to involve a rival faction. And because of that, Ryuji knew it had to be stopped. He could no longer sit back and simply clean up the streets like he had been doing. He couldn’t ignore the keys to the Tenjou Clan ending up with Shindou.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around him. Pink hair drooped in front of his eyes, making him look up at the fairy girl fluttering over him.

“There’s no need to look so tense. The dream world is a time for you to rest and recover. No matter what goes on in your awake time, sleep is a refuge for everyone. Let’s make the most of it. Let’s have fun.”

Ryuji chuckled, letting his worries dissolve away at the gentle gaze of Grace. He could never deny such an earnest request. Not ever before, and not now.

“How, pray tell, should I enjoy myself then? The dream world is your specialty, isn’t it?”

Grace pondered for a moment before beaming a wide smile.

“How about something you loved as a child?”

Before Ryuji could think of what she meant, she snapped her fingers, changing Ryuji and her into a set of baker’s uniforms. The background changed to that of a kitchen backdrop. A whirlwind of utensils and appliances swirled around them, landing perfectly in place to form the setup for a cooking show.

What Ryuji saw before him was a giant ball of dough, excessively large tubes of cream, and a rainbow of different jams and jellies for filling. He instinctively reached out at them, only to feel the static of neglecting his craft for over a decade.

I can’t go back to those days. This isn’t Ojou I’m making it for anymore. It probably won’t taste good anyways…

Excuses upon excuses filled Ryuji’s head. But all it took was a pair of hands overlapping his to break out of the downward spiral. He watched as Grace pulled his hands toward the dough, both of them kneading into it. His reluctance was blown away like a candle as the familiarity of the craft took over. Soon, they were moving in tandem, picking up the pace.

“Let’s take it up a notch!” Grace yelled out, flipping the dough over and motioning to Ryuji with a hammer fist.

It took barely a second for him to realize her intent before he balled up his fists and slammed them down onto the dough. The moment he lifted up, Grace flipped it again, starting a cycle of pounding and flipping.

Heh. Mochi pounding. Should’ve known.

Her menu clear to him now, their motions sped into a blur, impossibly fast for normal people to follow. But Ryuji and Grace had a connection to each other, their minds synced in rhythm.

Grace pulled the dough and let it fly into the air. Right after, Ryuji picked up a knife and sliced so fast that the giant glob separated into tens of small bits raining down to the counter. Letting himself get psyched up, a dash of flames blew from his back as he reared back his arms before letting out a machine gun of slaps across the counter, flattening each piece paper-thin.

Grace followed up by spooning jams and jellies onto the centers of the disks, before Ryuji circled back to tuck the edges in and smooth it into balls. To finish it off, Grace added a dab of cream on top.

With the job done, Ryuji suddenly snapped out of his trace, realizing that old habits were hard to get rid of. It hit him even harder when Grace beamed a smile at him, tray of finished treats on top. All those years of fighting couldn’t cover up who he really was – just a baker that wanted to please someone. A boy that wanted to see the smiling face of a girl.

Grace was not Ojou. At least, not the one he knew.

But that no longer mattered. He would protect her all the same. His fist clenched in determination to see that no one would take advantage of her kindness, her carefree personality.

Ryuji reached over and plucked one of the mochi, popping it into his mouth. A familiar sweetness enveloped his tongue.

“It’s good. Damn good. Great job, assistant!”

Grace wolfed one down as well, shooting him a thumbs up. A wave of cheers erupted around them, making Ryuji turn around to see silhouettes applauding in the audience.

“Heh, you even added spectators. Putting on the pressure, aren’t you?”

“Of course. No one wishes for talent to go unseen. Particularly, ones that are kept close to the heart.”

Ryuji extended a hand to her.

“Thanks, Grace.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a good reason to do what I need to do.”

Grace reached out and took his hand, ever the cheerful girl that Ryuji was growing fond of. He could feel the surroundings growing dim, a sign that he was about to wake. But just as the final bits of darkness swept over them, Ryuji whispered.

“You can count on me.”

v

Ryuji sat up, eyeing his bedroom. He got up and dressed, picking his most comfortable outfit – a casual set of black slacks and jacket. It would be someone’s funeral, but certainly not his.

His cell phone buzzed on the table as he checked himself in the mirror, making note of how clean his clothing was for the moment. He picked it up, the message causing his brow to wrinkle.

Took out the last one, boss! Let’s meet at Keio Plaza. 10:00.

Ryuji pocketed his phone with a grin. He knew that Ozaki would pull through for him. Unlike Shindou, he didn’t need an army. A few dependable guys would do just fine.

Slipping on the headset, Ryuji called out to Grace.

“Can you set a map to Keio Plaza? It’s time for some answers,” he cracked his fist for emphasis.

“Righto! Coordinates set for Keio Plaza. Estimated travel time by taxi is twenty-five minutes. Mission start!”

Ryuji stared at a similarly-dressed Grace, black suit and tie, and even with sunglasses. That would have been fine if she weren’t wielding a strange blaster in one hand.

“We aren’t fighting aliens, you know.”