[color=00a651][i]Oni.[/i][/color]

It felt devious, wriggling through the the layers of detachment in the dreamy girl's brain and trying to corrupt the bastion of purity at her center. On the surface, it was a mask - unyielding and expressionless, like all masks - but it hung elevated above the golden fog, reveling in a position of unholy power over the mystical energy in the truck. It was behind the revolt of the pizza bots. It had to be. She could put a stop to all of this; she knew she could.

[color=00a651][i]I'm so hungry...[/i][/color]

Why wasn't Daisuke with her anymore? He'd gotten back up...hadn't he?

[color=00a651][i]Daisuke has to serve me fries...[/i][/color]

Putting this mask down would put a stop to all of this. And until Daisuke got up (he had to get up) to do something...

It was up to the dreamer.

And she thought she knew what to do. The Japanese girl's fist balled up as she stared into the demon's impassive face.

[color=00a651]"Get these hands."[/color]

And Kimiko Saitou threw her first punch.