Phoenix: Reignited Edition [Ranma 1/2]

[AnneOminous]

"Alright, kiddo, spill it."

Ranko looked up from the dishwasher into Yui's inquisitive face. "What?!"

Yui gestured with her head over the packed bar room of Friday revelers to the table closest to the stage and its lone occupant. "That girl. You haven't stopped looking at her since the second she came in."

Ranko's skin spontaneously invented a new shade of red. "She, umm… I told ya, she's a friend of mine, from before I came to the city."

Yui bit her lip, pretending to go along with the explanation for the moment. "Uh-huh." She walked to the other side of the redhead, ringing the sale of a pair of Dragonfires into the cash register for a duo of harbor workers still in their uniforms. "She's cute."

Ranko smiled dreamily. "Yeah, she… wait, what?!"

Yui giggled, a bright grin crossing her lips. "Gotcha, little sister." She continued speaking over her sister's voice, ignoring the redhead's stammered protests. "You should go talk to her."

The redhead's cheeks still burned, and she turned her face away from the bartender to focus on the soda she was pouring for a customer at table eleven. "I did, before we opened."

Yui shook her head, nudging Ranko's shoulder with two fingers. "I think you know what I mean, blockhead."

Ranko looked up, gasping and letting her jaw fall slack as she realized what Yui meant. "Naw. I couldn't! She's a girl!"

The blonde bartender nodded. "So?"

Ranko threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I'm a girl!"

Yui flashed her a little smile that was somewhere between wistful and devious. "Soooo?"

Ranko glanced over at Akane. The girl who had once been her betrothed was looking around the room, sipping her soda and just taking in the environment that had been Ranko's home for the last few months. "I couldn't do that to her. She deserves so much better than me." She sighed, a downtrodden glaze falling over her eyes.

Yui clasped her hands on Ranko's shoulders, physically turning the younger girl's body until it faced her. "Listen to me. We've talked about this. There is no better than you, Ran-chan. You're as good as they come, and if she deserves you, and she makes you happy, then don't you dare miss the chance." She looked down at the floor between her outstretched arms. "Trust me on this one."

Ranko sighed, looking over at Akane again. Even if I did want to be with her, there's way too much bullshit in the way. Our parents. The dojo. My new life here. Re-introducing all of the nonsense of everybody back home back into my life. We'd never find a way to make it work. It's just too much, and that's before you even get into the whole 'I'm a girl now' thing.

As certain as she was that it was impossible, something inside her desperately wished it weren't. What I'd give if we could just get past all the bullshit and just be two gi… two people, being together because we care about each other.

The sound of a little service bell from the kitchen pierced Ranko's thoughts. As the redhead looked back toward the saloon door, Hana called out to her. "Ranko! The burgers for table eighteen are getting cold!"

Ranko snapped herself back into the present. No time for daydreaming on a Friday night, dummy. She rushed back, picking up the plates with a brief apology for Hana. Moving quickly to make up for her delay, she delivered the entrees to the designated table, putting on a stage smile as best she could. Ranko turned her head to gaze at Akane again, finding that she was no longer sitting alone, as Izumi had taken the chair opposite her. What the hell is that all about? What are you up to, Izzi?

"Excuse me, miss?"

Ranko whirled to face the customer at table seventeen who had summoned her. "Yeah?"

"Could we also get three more Dragonfires and a beer, when you get a minute?" The young woman grinned up at Ranko drunkenly.

The young server nodded with a smile. Last round. After this, we're gonna have to cut her off. She's pretty far gone. "Sure thing!"

Back at her table, Akane bit into a fried cheese stick. "So, how is she, really? When she isn't putting on a brave face for me and telling me everything is great?"

Izumi sighed. "When she got here, I'm not going to lie, she was pretty broken. All of us were at one point or another, when we first found this place. Thing is, this place is sort of equal parts nightclub and orphanage, in a weird sort of way. Me, Yui, Ayako, Mei, all of us girls had our reasons to end up here. Even our mama, the lady who owns the place. But because all of us have been broken over the years, we've learned how to put each other back together again. We've done our best to help Ranko out. There's a lot she still won't talk about - we suspect it's too painful for her - but we are here for her whenever she's ready."

Izumi sighed, stealing one of Akane's cheese sticks. "The poor kid's had it rough, though, even since she's been here. This is only her second night all the way back, after some jerk tried to force himself on her in the middle of the bar. She ended up hitting her head and getting a pretty nasty concussion."

Akane gasped. She sometimes had a hard time remembering that Ranko's condition severely hindered her ability to be the invincible martial artist she once was. She also dreaded Ranko - any girl, but especially someone who grew up as a guy - being in that position. How terrifying it must have been for her, and how alone she must have felt, not being able to tell anyone the truth.

Izumi continued. "But, she's resilient. She's trying so hard, and getting so much more confidence. She told us she was raised as a tomboy of sorts, because her father really wanted her to run his family business. Poor thing didn't even know what bra size she wore. We've been trying to help her. She's a quick study, but being a teenager, especially as a girl, is a lot when you don't have someone in your life to help."

Akane nodded knowingly - after her mother had died, she had no idea what she'd have done if it hadn't been for Kasumi. "Has she talked about me at all?" There was a hopeful timbre in her voice.

Izumi frowned a little. "She doesn't talk much about her past in general, and when she does, it's usually kept pretty vague. About the only thing we've ever gotten out of her about people in her past, other than her parents, is that her father tried to make her get married – to more than one person, even."

Akane sighed, her shoulders drooping. She'd often wondered, especially since Ranko had left her home, just how different their relationship might have been if Soun and Genma had just let things take their natural course.

"She also told us that because of all that pressure, she never had an opportunity to tell the person she really cared about how she felt." Izumi bit into the cheese in her hand, pulling it away from her teeth until the strand of stretchy mozzarella finally broke.

Akane blinked, her eyes rocketing from her basket of fried cheese back to her brown-haired companion. Could it be?! No. No way.

"Anyway, all that is to say that she's come a long way. She works hard, and she's finding her footing in the world. We're thrilled to have her in our little family, and we're damn proud of her." Izumi grinned up at the redhead darting between tables, balancing three baskets of chicken tenders on her forearm. She found it interesting that Ranko refused to carry warm dishes that way without first covering her arm with a bar towel, as if the teenager were afraid of being burned by food that wasn't even too hot to bite into.

Akane smiled, looking across the room at the redhead in the yellow dress as she laughed with her customers, darting off to fetch three orange-and-yellow-tinged glasses with little wisps of smoke rising off of them on a cork board serving tray. "So am I."

---

The music blaring from the sound system faded, and Mei's voice took its place over the speakers. "Okay, everybody. We know what you're really here for, so… who's ready?!" The crowd roared enthusiastically.

Akane looked around, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. Wow. I teased her about it, but… these people really are excited to see her. I'm glad. She deserves it.

Izumi stood quickly from her chair. "That's my cue! Gotta get ready. There's always a huge rush at the bar after she sings. It was good talking to ya, Akane."

Mei sighed vocally over the microphone in her hand. "Clearly, you guys haven't had enough to drink yet! Loosen up! It's Friday night! I said, who's READY?!" The crowd cheered nearly twice as loudly as they had before, and this time, Akane joined in with them.

Ranko took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her mouth, her microphone clenched tightly in her trembling hand as she peeked out from the side door of the kitchen just behind the pool table. I haven't been nervous like this since the first time Mei made me get on stage, and I'm deluding myself if I pretend like I don't know why. I'm gonna feel like such an idiot singing in front of Akane like this. Doing all the things I… normally do on stage. She's just gonna laugh at me. She glanced over at Akane's table, her eyes filled with shame, but when she did, she found Akane on her feet, watching the stage, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked – excited?

Ranko took another deep breath. Well, okay. Then I guess we're doing this. This is my life now, she thought furtively. I hope you like it. I hope you accept it. But I can't change it for anybody this time. I've worked too hard for it. This is who I am, Akane. The first note of a high-energy Japanese pop song blared, despite the stage still standing empty. The crowd looked around, confused.

With a hard swallow, Ranko pushed through the door behind the pool table and jogged her way toward the stage, making a point to pass less than a meter from Akane as she made her way to the back corner of the bar room and stepped up onto the triangular wooden platform, switching her microphone on with her thumb as she ascended.

"Hey! How's everybody doing tonight?!" She smiled widely, waving to the assembled revelers. A loud whoop came from every direction at once. "Alright, that's what I like to hear! We having a good time? I know I am! Who's with me?!" As the crowd roared, Ranko powered her voice into the first verse. She moved with an extra level of energy and an exuberance that infected the crowd immediately. Every snap of her hips and every note she sang seemed to be possessed of extra precision and purpose.

Mei leaned into Yui's torso from behind the bar, watching the stage. As Yui was more than thirty centimeters taller, the top of her head came barely to Yui's armpit. "What's gotten into her tonight?"

Yui beamed, putting her arm around Mei's shoulders and squeezing her from behind. "Mei, honey, I think our little sister's in love."

Ranko started the chorus, performing it call-and-answer style with the crowd. There wasn't an eye in the building focused on anything but her. The louder the crowd got, the more energized she seemed to become, darting across the two-meter-wide stage with her head on a swivel to ensure different areas of the bar were engaged. She whipped her head around, catching a glimpse of Akane standing in front of her table, clapping her hands. Holy crap! She actually looks like she's enjoying herself! Ranko smiled sweetly at her, pointing to her and wiggling her fingers in a cute wave as she sang.

Akane blushed, but didn't seem to mind. Rather, she stood mesmerized, witnessing a transformation she could not begin to explain. The girl that commanded that tiny little stage was not the person she'd been forced to beg to sing backup at last year's Christmas party. Nor was not the broken husk of a person that came back from that mountaintop without a Phoenix Pill to show for their efforts. Nor was it the martial artist she once sparred against a few times a week, though some of the precise agility could be glimpsed in her dancing if Akane looked hard enough. The singer could not have been the same person who begrudgingly accepted her feminine form when she had to or when there was benefit in it for her, and who had always seemed distant and sad even as a guy.

It couldn't be.

What Akane saw on that stage was, purely and simply, joy.

The song ended and the bar's patronage roared, but there was only one voice Ranko cared to hear. She turned to face Akane's table, but found it empty. Her brow furrowed in a disappointed frown. Did she leave? She bowed politely to the crowd and stepped down from the stage, and as soon as she did, Akane emerged from the throng and wrapped her arms around Ranko's waist in a tight hug. The singer giggled as Akane squeezed her tight and lifted her a little off the ground, just for a second, before setting her down and giving her enough space to make eye contact.

"You…" Akane shook her head in disbelief. "You are incredible. Just… wow."

Ranko blushed, averting her eyes a little, but unable to fully hide her thousand-watt smile. "Aww, c'mon, Akane. You're embarrassin' me."

Akane clasped her hand on Ranko's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "No, I mean it! It's so good to see you doing something that makes you so happy."

The redhead smiled coyly. "I'm just happy you got to see it. I was so afraid you'd find me, but now that you did… I'm just really glad you came, Akane."

Akane grinned, her own cheeks reddening. "Me too."

---

After her fifth performance of the evening, Ranko stepped off the stage to again find an applauding Akane waiting for her at its edge. Ranko walked with her back toward her table, grinning playfully. "Now, time to get back to waitress mode. So, can I get you something to drink, ma'am?"

The girl in the Furinkan school uniform giggled as she slipped back into her chair. "Can you hang out for a minute?"

Ranko turned, scanning the bar room with her eyes and surveying her tables. Finding that Izumi was still covering them, she nodded. "I think so, yeah. Just for a few minutes, though. Nobody gets too many breaks on a Friday around here." She pulled out the chair across from Akane and sat, crossing her ankles reflexively.

Akane reached for the last mozzarella stick in the red plastic basket in front of her, spreading it apart with her fingers and offering half to the redhead across the table. "So, I've been meaning to ask you…"

Ranko nodded. "Anything."

The raven-haired girl craned her neck, ensuring none of Ranko's coworkers were within earshot. She lowered her voice, leaning across the table to be heard over the karaoke stylings of a drunken pharmacist who clearly thought he was Whitney Houston. "When you gave them your name… you could have picked any name you wanted. Why Tendo?"

Ranko blushed brighter than she thought possible, looking down at her hands and picking at her fingernails. "I… I think you know."

It was Akane's turn to blush. "I… well, uh, yeah. I, um… Oh, shit! Look at the time! I should probably get home! It's really late."

Ranko shook her head, smiling softly. "It's almost one o'clock, dummy. The trains stop at midnight."

Akane looked at her watch, a panicked expression crossing her face. Shit. Now what do I do?! "Oh! Well, umm, I guess I'll need to call a taxi or something."

Ranko reached across the table for Akane's hand. "Y… ya know, you could stay here tonight, if you want."

Akane blinked in surprise. "You mean, with… with you?!"

Ranko bobbed her head, a bright smile forming on her lips and a hopeful glint sparking to life in her eyes as she felt Akane squeeze her hand in return. "I… I mean, only if you want. You don't gotta, or nothin'."

The girl in the school uniform nodded, her cheeks aflame.

"I'd… really like that, Ranko."

~~~ END BOOK ONE ~~~​

 

[AnneOminous]

Here ends Phoenix Reignited Book I: Ashes. Starting Tuesday the 26th, we begin Book II: Embers. I'm so excited for you to see it! Embers will continue in the same work, so there's no need to adjust subscriptions or anything, it'll just... carry on with the next part of the story.

Normally this is where I'd make any Anne-ouncements, but because there were a crapload of them at the end of this book, I pulled them out into a Tumblr post.

Don't forget, you're all invited to visit the Storytellers' Speakeasy, a fandom Discord for fans of Phoenix and other incredible fanworks from more than a dozen popular Storytellers in the Ranma fandom (and 30-some others.) You might even hear me sing sometimes...

 

[AnneOminous]

Phoenix Ignited (Reignited Edition)
Book II: Embers​

Akane groaned, sitting up in the narrow bed with a yawn and a huge stretch. She leaned back, resting her shoulders against the cold white metal of the headboard. She glanced around at her surroundings, finding herself in a largely unfamiliar little studio apartment. Sunlight streamed through the lone window just beyond the small white nightstand to her right. Her eyes fell to the purple down duvet cover her legs were still under, and then to the borrowed lime green nightshirt she was wearing.

Oh. Right. I spent the night at the bar, with…

She turned her eyes down to the floor on her right, the side closest to the kitchenette, spying Ranko's old bedroll laid flat on the floor. A lavender bed sheet lay crumpled on the floor off to one side of it, and one of the pillows from the bed rested atop it in a matching cotton pillowcase.

Akane couldn't help but shake her head and smile. After the pair had sat up talking for the better part of two hours the night before, catching up on Ranko's escapades in the bar business, Ranko had insisted that Akane take the bed, even though it was technically her apartment. We're both girls; it would probably have been fine to share, Akane thought as she stretched her legs a bit under the covers. I wonder if she was just trying to be polite to a guest, or… She blushed, able to think of only one other reason for such a gesture. I mean, it couldn't be something like…

Akane's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a flushing toilet, and she turned to her left to identify the source of the noise. The bathroom door crammed into the corner of the little apartment opened, and Akane's former betrothed came through it into the main room of the apartment in a pale yellow nightdress with ruffles along the edges of the sleeves and hem. It was almost indecently short on the redhead's legs, owing to it having once belonged to the much-shorter Mei.

"Oh, hey, Akane! Morning! Sorry! I didn't wake you, did I?" Ranko blushed, lightly brushing the matted curtain of red hair out of her eyes with her fingers. "Not used to sharing a room with anybody anymore, I guess."

Akane smiled, crinkling her nose and shaking her head. "You're fine. What time is it?"

Ranko grinned in return, smoothing out her nightdress. "About ten thirty. It's pretty easy to sleep in when you live on bar hours." She bent down, picking up her sheet and pillow. As she did, her emerald green hipster panties came into full view under the poorly-fitting nightgown.

Wow, Akane thought, blushing and turning away. Girls' underwear? She really is serious about this, I guess. She hid her face behind her hand, cringing a little at the time. "I should… probably be getting home."

Ranko dropped the pillow on the bed at Akane's feet, balling up the sheet and jamming it down into the yellow plastic laundry hamper. "Sure, if you want, I guess. But it was already pretty late when you called your dad and told him you'd be staying the night, so he's probably not expecting you home super early anyway. If you wanna hang out a while longer, that is." She knelt on the floor, beginning to roll her sleeping mat.

Biting her lip slightly, Akane nodded, trying not to notice her cheeks warming as the room's other occupant bent over the bedroll on her hands and knees. "I probably shouldn't stay too late, if that's okay. I have a lot of homework and stuff to do this weekend."

The redhead nodded in her disappointment as she buckled the last of the straps around her bedroll, rocking up from her knees to her bare feet. She opened the narrow closet door next to the bathroom door, tossing the cushion on the top shelf. "You hungry?"

Akane was surprised to see the number of dresses that hung in the closet. Apparently last night's outfit wasn't a one-time thing, either. Who even are you anymore? She blushed a little more, nodding as Ranko closed the closet door and turned to face her. "What did you have in mind? Anything good around here?"

Before Akane finished her sentence, Ranko had crossed the small room and her head was buried in her little refrigerator. She emerged momentarily with a handful of eggs, setting them gently on the counter of her little kitchenette and watching them for a moment to ensure they didn't roll off.

"Wait, you…" Akane gestured to the ingredients being assembled on the counter. Since when does she know how to cook? Did she actually pay attention to that ridiculous training Kasumi put her through?

Ranko looked over her shoulder with a grin, her cheeks flushing a bit as well. "Yeah, yeah. I know. It's new. Don't get too excited; I'm not very good at it." She filled a small rice cooker with a few scoops of dry rice and water, closing it and turning it on. The little device had been a lifesaver, as getting too close to boiling water given the Full-Body Cat Tongue - and the potential of a masculine body bursting out of her hand-me-down nightdress at the slightest splash - was not especially her favorite thing of late.

She poured a small quantity of sesame oil into a small skillet, turning the burner on and taking a step back while it heated. Normally, she would have opened the window to help keep the radiant heat from the small gas cooktop at bay, but she could feel the chill of the early December morning just walking past the double-paned glass, and she didn't want to make Akane uncomfortable. "You sleep okay?"

Akane nodded, though Ranko didn't see it while facing the cooking surface. "Yeah. This is a really cute little apartment. I kinda like it." She motioned to a cheap canvas featuring a still life print of a pale pink vase full of orchids that hung in a white wooden frame over the headboard. "I'm guessing you didn't do the decor."

Bobbing her head in reply, Ranko shrunk back a bit shyly as her cheeks reddened even further. Stop that, face! Sheesh! "Yeah, it's been great. Hana invited me to stay here after my first shift at the bar. It's kinda been weird living alone, though. Before I left your place, I hadn't slept a night in ten years without havin' to listen to Pop snore."

Akane frowned a bit, not expecting to like the answer to her next question. "Where were you staying… before that?"

Ranko cracked an egg carefully into the skillet, the sizzle of the oil masking the sound of her sigh. Her shoulders slumped over the handle of the frying pan. "Oh, ya know. Here and there. Wherever I felt like crashing. Having all your stuff in one backpack does have its advantages."

The redhead may have hoped it would sound like an adventure, but Akane knew it was far more likely to have been a prolonged nightmare for her once-intended. The poor thing, all alone, and… it's been so cold. She didn't even have a blanket. How did…

"Ran…" Akane sighed and self-corrected before she could make a mistake. Her new name is going to take some getting used to, she reminded herself. But I have to try. "I'm… sorry you had to go through that for so long."

Ranko shook her head dismissively, nudging the egg in the skillet with a red plastic spatula to see if it was close to being ready. Seeing that it was not, she turned to face Akane. "Ahh, you don't need to be sorry for nothin', Akane. It was my choice to leave. I'm the dummy who ran off without a plan in the middle of the night. Yeah, it wasn't easy, but I'm glad I ended up where I am, even if I had to take the long way to get here." The rice cooker played a few cheerful digitized chimes as she finished her sentence, and she turned back to the counter.

"Can I help with anything?" Akane threw the duvet cover off of her legs, shivering a little as she swung her legs off of the bed. Gods, with the Cat's Tongue, she must be freezing wearing that.

A nervous chuckle came from the smaller girl as she darted around the tiny cookspace. "I, uh… I think I got it. Thanks, though!"

Nodding, the raven-haired girl stood from the bed, pulling the duvet cover back up and straightening the pillows against the headboard. I guess she wants to wash the sheet. "Have you thought about what comes next for you?"

Ranko cocked her head as she scooped half the rice from the rice cooker into a yellow plastic bowl and splashed it with soy sauce. "Whaddya mean?"

Turning her back to Ranko, Akane pulled the borrowed nightshirt off over her head and placed it in the hamper. She opened the closet, reaching for the hanger bearing the white shirt of her school uniform. It was nice of her to hang this up after I fell asleep, Akane thought with a soft smile over the sound of chopping on a wooden cutting board. She must've remembered how easily it wrinkles. "I mean, you can't be a waitress in a bar forever, can you? All of your plans have changed. Do you know what you want long-term?" She pulled her shirt from the hanger and slipped it on over her head, reaching for her teal pinafore.

Ranko added a small pat of butter to the bowl and then carefully lifted the fried egg from the skillet with the spatula, placing it atop the butter to help it melt. She chuckled as she used the side of the knife she'd chopped the scallions with to scoop them from the cutting board on the counter into the bowl. She wished she had some nori to add, but she hadn't been shopping since tagging along with Mei almost a week prior. I guess she can't be too upset. It's not like I was expecting company, least of all… "I'm still trying to figure out what I want tomorrow. All of this is still so new to me." Ranko picked up the bowl and laid a pair of red lacquered chopsticks over it, placing it on the little dinette table.

Akane finished dressing, made her way over to the small wooden table, and sat down in one of the two white pine chairs.

As she did, Ranko cracked another egg into the skillet, closing the rice cooker to keep its contents warm. "I'm honestly pretty shocked by the way all of this feels. I never thought I could be okay like this, and… I mean, it's still hard, every day. It still feels weird. Like, almost like a dream, but like, one of those super vivid ones you have, like, when you have a fever or something. But… I think it helps that Hana and the girls don't know about… ya know, everything." She gestured to her body. "So, they don't treat me like a guy in a girl's body, they just treat me normal, and I think it's helping me get used to it, too."

Akane nodded as Ranko filled the ceramic tea kettle with water and turned the burner under it on, waiting to pick up her chopsticks until her hostess could join her at the table. "Are you ever going to tell them? About Jusenkyo, I mean?"

Ranko turned, looking a little saddened by the thought. "I don't know. Part of me wants to, and part of me doesn't. I feel like I'm being dishonest by not telling them everything, but it feels so good to not be the weirdo for a change. And I…" She sighed heavily, letting her words trail off because she wasn't entirely sure how she wanted the sentence to end.

Her houseguest nodded in understanding. "You're afraid they'll think less of you if they find out, aren't you?"

Ranko nodded slowly. She turned to check her egg, and as she nudged it in the skillet, she heard the scrape of a wooden chair on the floor, followed by the feel of Akane's hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. It's going to be okay. You should have heard the way Izumi was talking about you. They seem to really care about you." Akane rubbed the redhead's back gently through the thin cotton nightdress.

Ranko gave another gentle sigh, shivering a little at Akane's soft touch on her ever-sensitive skin. Her whole body froze for a moment, and she stopped moving the spatula in her hand. That feels so…

"I… I hope so. I'm starting to feel like I'm a part of something here, and I'd pretty much given up hope of ever feeling like that. So, if it falls through now…" She turned her head, forcing her lips to smile between her neon red cheeks. "C'mon, your breakfast's gonna get cold."

Akane smiled brightly, catching the hint. "Right! It smells great!" She returned to her seat as Ranko finished composing her own bowl and carried her breakfast and the whistling tea kettle to the table. She felt a momentarily twinge of jealousy with the first bite of her breakfast. How dare she, having basically never cooked before, be so much better at it than me?! Akane did her best to swallow the feelings and the food at the same time, putting on a bright smile. "It's really good! Thanks!"

Ranko blushed. "I'm glad, because I'm pretty sure almost made chickens go extinct with all the eggs I burned before I got it right." She lifted a bit of rice and a sliver of egg white to her lips with her chopsticks.

The elder girl giggled, pouring the hot water from the white ceramic kettle into the waiting black teapot. Somehow, I'm guessing she'd prefer not to handle boiling water these days. "When do you start work?"

Ranko rolled her chopsticks in the air in a just a second gesture as she finished chewing, swallowing her food before speaking. "Noon, usually, but I let the girls know I might be down a little later today since you're here."

So much about her is different. She doesn't talk with her mouth full. She doesn't eat like she thinks somebody's gonna take her bowl away. She… smiles. She's like a whole new person. Akane shook her head, looking away as her cheeks flushed. "Oh, don't be late because of me. I don't wanna get you in trouble. I can find my way to the train station on my own."

Ranko nodded and swallowed her last bite of egg, a gentle smile crossing her lips at the sight of Akane's reddening cheeks. "If you're sure." She had to admit, there was a part of her that wished Akane would stay, but she knew that every moment her old and new worlds continued to intersect had tremendous potential for disaster. Still, is this what it's like, being a couple? Waking up, making breakfast, talking about your plans for the day? Nobody fighting over the last rice ball? Nobody getting tossed in the pond? Nobody getting cracked over the head with the dining table? It feels… normal. It feels nice. Realizing she was allowing herself to think of herself and Akane as a couple, Ranko blushed furiously as well. Don't be stupid, Ranko. It could never happen. Not now. Not anymore.

Akane stood, picking up both empty bowls and teacups and flashing a warm smile at the seated redhead. "Thanks again for breakfast, Ranko."

Her hostess rocketed to her feet, almost knocking her chair over to the floor in her hurry. "I can get that, Akane! You're a guest."

Akane waved the redhead off as she set the items in the sink and turned the faucet on. "Oh, come on. You cooked; I can do this. Besides, you still gotta get dressed."

Ranko looked down at herself, blushing further still. She'd almost forgotten what she was wearing. She was getting used to dressing more femininely, but around Akane, she felt some of her old embarrassment creeping into her mind. Is it because I don't want her seeing me as a girl, or because I…

"Yeah, you're right, I guess. Thanks." The redhead walked to her closet, opening it and searching in vain for one of her more androgynous outfits. I gotta stop waiting until the last minute to do laundry, she thought with a sigh.

Akane glanced over her companion's shoulder as she placed a teacup in the white plastic rack suspended over the sink to dry. "I like the white one."

Shit, Ranko thought, leaning on the white-painted wooden frame of the closet door. I'm getting dizzy from all of my blood being in my freakin' face at the same time. She glanced up at the floral lace dress she had worn on her birthday, when Izumi took her shopping. That's… not exactly what I had in mind. Her voice crept up an octave as she squeaked out a quiet "Yeah?"

Akane nodded, dropping the newly-cleaned spatula in the dish draining rack. "Yeah! It's super cute!"

Ranko pulled the lace dress she'd worn on her birthday out of the closet tentatively. "If you think so." Not sure if Akane's just issuing a challenge to see if I'm willing to wear stuff like that in front of her, or if she really does like it, she mused. Either way, the decision was made. She turned her back to the kitchenette, pulling her nightdress over her head and tossing it into the hamper atop the lavender bed sheet and the nightshirt Akane had borrowed. She reached up to the single wooden shelf at the top of the closet, past her bedroll, for her black bra. Before she pulled it out, though, she paused and reconsidered her decision. Izumi said dark colors look bad when ya wear 'em under light-colored outfits. I swear, it's gotta be easier to fly a space shuttle than dress like a girl. She pulled out her white bra instead, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

Akane turned to say something, but stopped mid-inhale once she saw Ranko was changing. She snapped her head back to the sink, her cheeks aflame. I didn't mean to peek! Crap! Since she had in fact peeked nonetheless, she couldn't stop herself from feeling a little surprised at the fact that Ranko was wearing bras of her own volition.

Ranko slipped the dress on, pulling the zipper up. "There, how's that?"

Akane put the last bowl in the dish drainer, turning slowly. She still felt a bit lightheaded. Her eyes and smile both widened at the sight of the redhead. "Wow… that… really is pretty on you."

The redhead's face instantly warmed enough to boil another kettle of water. She didn't know if Akane calling her pretty made her want to smile with pride, or hide under the bed. Maybe a little of both. "Thanks," Ranko squeaked nervously.

It was still so weird to her how much people paid attention to what girls wore. As a guy, she'd worn the same shirt and pants almost every day and no one seemed to care, but when she dressed like a girl, she felt like she was always on a judging stand to be rated by everybody. She couldn't deny that she was starting to enjoy the compliments when she got them, but the whole practice felt a little invasive to her. Still, getting any sort of affirmation from Akane was a treat, and she appreciated it.

Akane beamed at the young redhead in white. Gods, she really is… cute. Back at home, whenever Ranma had dressed up as a girl, it always used to infuriate Akane. In her mind, Ranma was making a mockery of their engagement – and of her – and the constant reminders that Ranma's feminine form was better built than Akane's didn't help matters much. Until the night before, Akane had never given her once-betrothed the satisfaction of admitting that she agreed with the redhead's assessment that she was the prettier girl. But now, the sight of the beaming redhead in the white lace dress pocked with embroidered roses brought a legitimate smile to her lips. For a split second, she imagined what it would be like to see Ranko in a wedding dress, before the blood flow to her face flooded the thought from her mind as quickly as it had come.

Finishing brushing her hair in the bathroom mirror, Ranko scooped her loose tresses back over her ear. She fastened the white bow clip Izumi had given her on her birthday into her hair to keep it out of her eyes, beaming at herself in the mirror. Izumi had given her a small makeup kit, too, but she hadn't yet felt brave enough to even try and dig into it, and she certainly wasn't feeling brave enough to take it for its maiden voyage in front of Akane. "There. Presentable enough, I guess," she called through the open bathroom door.

Akane laughed loudly. "I'll say."

Gods, she is so pretty. It's not even fair…

"You, uh, about ready to head downstairs?" Akane looked around at the room for the thermostat; she hadn't seen Ranko adjust it, but it definitely felt warmer in the apartment than it had a few moments ago.

Ranko nodded with a smile and reached for the little purse hanging from the closet door knob. "Do you need cash for the bus or anything?"

The elder girl shook her head. "I'm fine, but thanks."

Ranko slipped on her black flats and opened the door, beginning to make her way down the steps with Akane following close behind. The pair emerged into the hallway joining the bar to the kitchen, and Ranko turned left, leading Akane into the main bar area.

There, they found Yui already slicing oranges for the night's service. "Oi! Morning, Ranko! Akane, good to see you." She wore an absolutely devious grin that made both of the younger girls blush again.

"Hey, Yui," Ranko replied flatly as she held the blue wooden door open for Akane. "Wipe that smirk off your face. I know what you're thinking."

Akane could only wave, almost facefaulting at the implied insinuation. Does she think that we actually…

Ranko led Akane to the glass double doors at the front of the bar, resting her hand on its brass bar handle. "It really was good to see you, Akane. Thank you for coming. And, you know, not killing me."

Her guest chuckled, shaking her head. "You're welcome. It was nice to see you, too. Really nice. I'll come back again soon?"

The redhead nodded with a bright smile. She seemed to grow three centimeters as her posture straightened in excitement and hope, her eyes sparkling like a puppy that had just been promised a treat. "I'd really like that!"

"Sounds good. See you soon, Ranko! Bye, Yui!" Akane waved, wiggling her fingers as she pushed through the door into the street.

Ranko turned toward the interior of the bar, resting the back of her head on the glass door with a happy sigh and a smile that outshone the nearly noonday sun on the sidewalk beyond.

 

[AnneOminous]

Ranko walked back toward the kitchen door, playing with the skirt of her white dress in her fingers. She felt like she was floating on air.

She had one foot in the hallway leading to the kitchen when Yui reached out with her left hand, grabbing the blue saloon door and holding it fast to prevent it from swinging further inward. "Nuh-uh. Don't you dare, missy. Sit. Spill. I want to know everything." She grinned, gesturing in a mock threat with the knife in her hand before setting it to work on an orange.

Ranko stepped on the brass footrest and climbed up onto the brown vinyl seat of the barstool opposite her sister's workstation. As she turned her backside to the seat, she remembered at the last moment to be mindful of her skirt. Dresses are such a pain in the ass, man. "There's not much to tell. Nothing happened. We slept, we talked, we had breakfast, she left. She's just a friend, Yui."

Yui gave a disbelieving smirk, tossing a bifurcated orange into the plastic container waiting nearby. "Uh-huh. Sure she is."

Ranko blushed deeply, recoiling a little from a squirt of juice that spritzed her cheek when Yui sliced into another fruit. She reached out to the bin on the other side of Yui's workspace for a lemon, picking up the knife Yui slid across the counter to her. "What?! She is!"

The blonde nodded, an amused chuckle breaking through her attempt to pull off a serious response. "Okay, Ranko. She's just a friend, and I'm the emperor's daughter."

Her youngest sister sighed as she pushed through a lemon with her paring knife, a sad reality reintroducing itself after a blissful few hours' respite. She could not muster a reply.

Yui frowned, reaching out for Ranko's right wrist between slices to get her attention. "Hey. We talked about this, kiddo. If you like her, you've gotta tell her."

Ranko shook her head in exasperation. "Even if I did like her like that - and I'm not saying I do! - it wouldn't matter. She doesn't like girls. Plus, her father is super traditional about these kinds of things. He'd never tolerate it. And, honestly, I'm not sure how I'd feel about it, either." Of course, the idea of being a girl and dating a girl was a lot more appealing to her than being a girl and dating a guy. The thought of a boyfriend made her skin crawl.

That was part of the reason I had to get the hell away from Pop, before he got the bright idea that if I wasn't gonna be able to change back, he could sell me off to somebody as their... She shuddered at the very thought of it. With my luck, it'd be Kuno, or like, some snooty rich French dude or something. He'd have stuffed my ass in a wedding dress and sold me into slavery in a fucking second, and never thought twice about it.

"Maybe it's better if I don't date anybody at all," Ranko mused darkly, the fried egg she'd made for breakfast suddenly not sitting as well in her stomach as she might have liked.

Yui nodded sadly, fingering her sleeves and remembering her lost Kimiko. "I get feeling like that. Believe me, I do. I haven't been on a date in… shit, almost ten years now? I know you've gotta be careful about these things, especially around old-fashioned jerks. But I also know that you lit up like a Christmas tree when you saw her, whether you want to admit it or not, and I'd hate to see you ignore that."

Ranko nodded distantly, lost in her own thoughts.

What if Mr. Tendo did allow it? Nabiki could still marry someone to take over the school, right? I mean, Kasumi's all but certain to end up with Dr. Tofu. I don't envy anyone showing up at his office if that happens, though. Damn. My neck still hurts sometimes just thinking about it. But it would never work. Nabiki isn't half as devoted to martial arts as Akane is. I only saw her practice a handful of times the whole time I lived there - and besides, the whole point of the engagement was to merge the schools as well as the families. Under the circumstances, that ain't happening now.

Plus, if I ended up with Akane, I'd be expected to go back to the dojo, and that would mean all the drama of that world again, and leaving… everything good I'm building here. I can only imagine what Pop would say if he saw me now, wearing a cute white dress with a bow in my hair for no reason other than wanting to look pretty for Akane. Her cheeks flushed brightly at the realization that impressing Akane had, in fact, been the motivation for her current attire. There'd be yelling, pouting, a healthy dose of shame and dishonor talk, and somebody would probably be taking a one-way flight into the koi pond. No thanks. Compared to that, living as a pop idol and Izumi's personal freakin' Barbie doll sounds like a freakin' cakewalk.

A quiet smirk crossed her lips for just the briefest of moments. Oh, what I'd give to put Mama and Pop in a room together for five fucking minutes, though. Whoo. Not enough popcorn in the freakin' universe for that shit.

But, me and Akane? It would never work. Be real, Ranko. We managed to pull off being friendly for a few hours, but if we got together long-term, it would only be a matter of time before we'd be back to arguments and hammers, calling each other un-cute, and all of that shit. Everybody else would be all up in our lives, and all the friggin' circus freaks around with the Kunos and Ryoga and everybody else around there would never let us live in peace. If the shit really hit the fan, Akane couldn't cut her family out of her life and haul ass as easily as I did.

More importantly, Akane deserves better than being ridiculed for being with a girl, and the only way to protect her from that would be to keep a relationship quiet. I've spent long enough hiding who I am and holding my breath around a mountain of secrets, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially Akane.

Besides, how could she take care of someone else? She was already living off Hana's charity, and not making nearly enough to support herself, let alone two people. She had no marketable skills and hadn't even finished high school. Her nonexistent pain tolerance – courtesy of Koh Lon – had ended any hope of a career in martial arts, and Akane was right: she had no backup plan to speak of. On the other hand, she wouldn't necessarily be held to the responsibilities of being the guy in the relationship, because she wasn't anymore. But would Akane see it that way? Worse, could she really stand the thought of Akane being the breadwinner in the relationship while Ranko waited tables, or worse still, became a homemaker? Dressing and acting like a proper girl was hard enough for her to figure out, but turning into Kasumi was several bridges too far.

No, it's too late. I had my chance, and I missed it. I ran away from it. But… it was Ranma that screwed everything up with her, and Ranma isn't here anymore. Maybe things could be dif...

"Hey…" Yui waved her hand in front of the redhead's face. "Earth to Ranko. You still with me over there, kiddo?"

Ranko blushed, snapping out of her thoughts. She reached for the paring knife she'd left on the countertop, shaking her head. C'mon, airhead. Get with it. You're supposed to be working. "Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess."

The blonde smirked softly, giving her sister an understanding nod. "Cute girls can have that effect on us sometimes."

Saddened though she was, Ranko couldn't help laughing, and Yui joined her.

"You gonna see her again?" Yui asked hopefully, popping a wedge of orange into her mouth and wiping the juice off on the hips of her blue jeans.

For all the good it'll do. Still, just getting to hang out with her again after all this time… Ranko shrunk a bit on her stool, biting her lower lip, but she smiled through it and gave an excited little nod.

Yui grinned, tossing another orange into the garnish bin. "Atta girl! Talk to Iz, and she'll get you set up with the perfect date outf…"

With a crash, the front door swung open and Izumi burst into the room. She wore a tan knee-length skirt under a jewel-tone green turtleneck sweater. She wore no makeup, an almost uncanny sight on the perpetually fashion-conscious brunette. An absolutely frenzied expression painted her face as she rushed toward her sisters.

Ranko breathed a sigh of relief at no longer being the center of attention. "Uhhh, Izzi? You okay, sis? Little too much coffee this morning?" She made a pinching gesture with her fingers.

Ignoring Yui's laughter, Izumi darted to the bar counter and mounted the stool to Ranko's right, shaking her head wildly. "No! You guys! You're not gonna believe it!" She waved her left hand frantically, and a glint of light caught something on one of her fingers. "Kaito asked me to marry him!"

"What?!" Yui dropped the knife in her hand, letting it clatter to rest on the cutting board. "Oh, Izzi! Honey! That's amazing! Give it here! Let me see!" Yui took her sister's hand, manipulating it every which way to examine the modest silver setting and solitaire diamond that adorned Izumi's left ring finger.

Glad that at least somebody's gonna get their happily ever after. Ranko smiled brightly, trying to wash the jealousy from her eyes before lifting them from her sister's hand. "Izumi, I'm so happy for you both. And Hoshi, too!"

Izumi giggled as Yui fawned over her ring. "We haven't even told Hoshi yet. We're gonna do it over dinner tonight. But… I can't believe it, girls! I'm freakin' getting married! We decided on a Western-style wedding, just like the one that princess in England had a few years back. My gods, I'm gonna need a dress, and flowers, and a cake, and…" Her words quickly trailed into a hysterical screech of excitement.

Yui squeezed her hand. "Breathe, Izzi. You've got time. You don't need to do all this in one day. And it's not like you won't have backup."

The bride-to-be gasped, pulling her hand back and clasping it on her cheeks along with its mate. "Ohmygods, you're right! I'm gonna need everybody's help! You girls are gonna be my bridesmaids, right?"

Yui smiled warmly, patting the back of her hand. "Of course we will!"

Ranko chuckled, shaking her head as she picked her knife back up. "That's gonna be a freakin' huge wedding, with three bridesmaids."

Izumi turned her head to face the redhead. "Four. Can't you count, dummy?"

Ranko cocked her head. "How do you figure? You've got Ayako, Yui, Mei, and… waaaaaait a minute, you don't mean…"

Izumi nodded emphatically. "Of course I do! I want all four of my sisters to stand with me."

So much blood rushed to Ranko's face that the resultant lightheadedness rocked her back on her stool. "I… I don't know what to say." She meant it. All she knew about the act of being a bridesmaid was that it involved a whole lot of primping and dressing up. I'm still getting the hang of fastening a bra. I'm nowhere near prepared for this shit. You must be crazy, Izzi!

Izumi grinned, throwing her arm over her redheaded sister's shoulders and pulling her across the gap between their stools into a side hug. "You say yes, blockhead."

Ranko exhaled with intimidation. She knew that the pressure to look and behave as a perfect lady, especially in a Western-culture ceremony about which she knew practically nothing, would be staggering. What if I embarrass Izumi on her wedding day? What if I use the wrong fancy fork or something, and somehow dishonor Izumi in front of Kaito or his family? I have no fucking idea what would be expected or what I'm supposed to do. Just, like, stand there with flowers and smile? Try not to fall on my face in heels?

She was terrified, but then again, leaning into the new and strange had been working for her so far. As she contemplated her response, she looked down at the dress Akane picked for her, and her mind slowed from a thousand simultaneous thoughts to just one. If she was flustered seeing me in this, she mused, fingering the embroidered roses of her skirt, then how would she react to…

The sound fell out of her mouth before she could finish her thought.

"Yes."

 

[AnneOminous]

Akane stared forward blankly, idly fiddling with the black plastic band of the Casio digital watch she wore on her left wrist. Her mind raced with a flurry of new realities. Not only had she learned, after months of worry, that Ranma was alive, but that he - she, Akane reminded herself - was actually thriving!

When she had last seen the person she now knew as Ranko, that night at the dojo, her once-betrothed was so depressed at the idea of having to live life as a woman that Akane had legitimately feared for Ranko's life. So many nights since, Akane had looked up at the stars out of her second-story bedroom window and prayed that she was safe, both from any number of attackers who could have preyed upon the vulnerability presented by the Full-Body Cat's Tongue, and from the very real threat that a despondent and hopeless martial artist could have posed to herself. That somehow, some way, the person with whom Akane's destiny had once been entwined could find a way to make peace with the new circumstances she had found herself living with.

And yet, after all of that, when Nabiki had finally found her by random chance, it had been with pierced ears, painted nails and a closet full of dresses, singing onstage for strangers! Calling herself sister to people who had been strangers a month ago! And somehow, she was happy about it! It was all almost beyond Akane's comprehension.

Akane looked up, just for a moment, as she felt the brakes of the bus release with a loud hiss. The vehicle lurched forward, direly in need of maintenance as it was, but Akane was already lost in her thoughts again. She barely reacted in time to pull her knee out of the aisle and allow the pair of twenty-somethings in business skirt suits that had boarded at the Shinjuku stop to pass. "Sorry," she muttered, wincing as the woman in front nearly fell forward with the sudden jerk of the bus' automatic transmission.

What am I gonna say when I get home? I can't tell anyone at home about Ranm – Ranko! Shit. I gotta remember to be careful and keep that straight. Nabiki said it really hurt her when she messed up and used the old name. Only Nabiki and I know where she is, and Ranko made it abundantly clear that she didn't want anybody else to find out about her. Our fathers and Happosai are definitely out, and nothing good will come of it if the Kunos or Ryoga or any of those people figure out where she is. That's the last thing she needs right now, when she's trying to get established with a whole new identity.

I mean, maybe I could trust Kasumi with it. Then again, Kasumi kind of sucks at keeping secrets. She doesn't mean to, she's just too kind-hearted to be able to convincingly lie. If she finds out, she'll spill the beans to Dad within a week.

No, I think I've gotta go with the 'nugget of truth' approach here. I went to visit a girl I went to Furinkan with last year, who moved to Tokyo before the start of the new school term. I gotta come up with a name to give in case they ask questions. Ranko is too close, and they might guess. Can't take the chance. Maybe… Yoiko? Akane smirked, chuckling quietly to herself as she watched the Shibuya skyline whiz by the window to her right. No, That's silly. Nobody would name a girl that. If she were a puppy, maybe. How about… Rima? That could work, I guess. I don't know. It's really pretty, but it's kind of close to Ranma, too. She grinned at her faint reflection in the bus window as the vehicle zoomed past a towering red sign for a restaurant situated just off the highway. Aiko's Teppanyaki House. Perfect! Aiko it is!

Akane rolled her eyes, glancing down at her wristwatch. I imagine that this is the same sort of delicate dancing around the truth Ranko has to do every day, now that she's got people involved in her new life, asking questions and stuff. It's definitely not easy. I don't envy her one bit for it.

What about Ukyo? Maybe I should tell her. I know she's been super worried, too. Ranm… fuck! Did it again! Ranko said Ukyo gave her some money when she ran, and never said anything about it to me or anybody else. So, maybe she could be cool, if she knew. But, then again, Ukyo also wasn't much better than Xian Pu and Kodachi and…

She winced, shaking her head sadly as her mind returned to the intrusive thought that had festered in her mind on repeat since the night fate had chased Ranma from her home, and from her life.

I wasn't any better. I was cruel, too. All of us girls were so focused on what we wanted with Ranko that nobody ever really even thought to ask her. Nobody gave her a chance to speak for herself. Those other girls, they all had their reasons for the things they did, but I should have been different. I should have been the one to take her side. I should have been the one she could count on.

At least now, however weird her new situation is, it seems like Ranko's getting to make her own decisions. Maybe that's part of the reason she seems so much happier. So, I don't know if Ranko would even want Ukyo to know. I can't take the risk - however small - that I'd mess up a good thing for her now that she finally has a life she's proud of.

Akane braced her knee against the seat in front of her as the bus hit a bump in the road, rocking it forward a bit.

And her new life! Wow. Working in a freaking bar, with three other girls that call her their sister? Akane smiled, remembering Ranko's excited retelling of her first interactions with the other women who called the Phoenix home. No, four! I forgot, there's the oldest one, that Ranko said doesn't work there anymore. Ayako, I think she said her name was?

She grinned brightly, remembering her brief introduction to the older woman who ran the bar. Hana. She was really nice, too. Didn't even charge me for my food. Akane sighed, beaming as she recalled the abject reverence in Ranko's eyes whenever she looked at the bar's proprietress - the one her once-betrothed called Mama.

Gods, Ranko, it's so good to think of you finally getting to have a mother figure in your life - at least, one that's more than two years older than you. You deserve it. I wonder how much easier it would've made… everything you've been through since Jusenkyo.

"Nakano Station, now arriving," came the driver's announcement through the crackly public-address speakers positioned throughout the bus. "If this is your destination, please gather your belongings and exit through the doors at the center of the bus. If not, please clear the aisles to make room for boarding and disembarking passengers. Thank you."

Akane looked up as the bus shuddered to a stop. Her cheeks flushed as a young woman with a bright pink shock of hair passed her in a flowy white sundress and a matching wide-brimmed hat despite the chill of that early afternoon in December. For the briefest of moments, she thought it might have been the beautiful redhead she'd left in an empty bar room in Minato, having thought better of letting her go home alone. She sighed softly at the thought.

Everything about her is so different now. Is it even still the same person I used to know?! I mean, she sings! In public, for strangers, multiple times a night! Like, without having to be threatened!

And, like, there wasn't that cocky, alpha-male jerk attitude anymore. The confidence is still there, I think, but there's a timidity, a shyness, behind it now that I never saw before. She was… kind. She was sweet, and considerate. Maybe she learned better while she was on her own. While she was…

Akane frowned, a sadder sigh escaping her lips. While she was homeless and alone. I hate that she went through that. Nobody should ever have to… She must have been so scared. I hate that she didn't feel like she could stay with m… with us. But, before she left, she was so sad. So desperate.

Even before the whole thing with the Cat's Tongue and the Phoenix Pill, I guess she was always a little disconnected. She never really seemed comfortable in her own skin, even when she was in boy mode. If I had to guess, I'd say it probably started about the time a certain cursed spring in China gave her the skin she's wearing now. I tried to reach out to her, but she always kept me, and everyone, at arm's length. She didn't ever really want to talk about her feelings. After having spent so much of her childhood traveling alone with the father of the century that Mr. Saotome was, I doubt she ever really learned how.

Maybe she would have stayed with us, if I could have found a way to be more supportive. If she didn't feel like she was going through everything all alone. I tried, but I just didn't know how to get close to her. It always got so awkward and weird, and I'd get to feeling things, and one of us would get flustered, and she'd say something rude, and I'd just… hit her, or yell at her, or storm off in a huff. I wish I could have been better at talking about stuff with her. She wasn't blameless either, but… Akane scoffed slightly under her breath. We both really suck at this, don't we, Ranko?

Of course, it was nothing Akane hadn't thought a hundred times, in the months since her erstwhile betrothed had fled their home in the middle of the night. All the conversations I wish I could take back. All the things I should have said differently, or not said at all. All the times I should have just shut up and… listened. And not stopped listening until she said what she needed to say.

Thinking about it now, I'm glad she left when she did. If she'd have stayed in that dark place she was in after she lost the Phoenix Pill, with Dad and Mr. Saotome and everybody always talking about her like there was something wrong with her that would never be fixed, who knows what would have happened. Nobody could live like that forever. Besides, she'd never have had a chance to build a new life while she was still surrounded by the ruins of her old one. I hate that it was necessary for her, but it likely was. I don't have to like it to understand it.

With another loud hiss, the brakes released and the bus resumed motion, quickly merging back onto Tokyo Metropolitan Road Route 318.

But, what am I gonna do now, Akane wondered. Now that I know where she is? Now that I know she's okay? I had a plan. I rehearsed it in my head all week. I was gonna go over there after school, and see her one last time. Just see with my own eyes that she's alive and kicking, so I could sleep at night, and say my goodbyes. I was gonna tear her a new asshole for storming out on us like that, and throw every single mean and scary thing I've thought for the last two months in her face and make her choke on it.

I could tell that's what she thought was gonna happen, too, given how scared she looked when she first saw me in the alley. I guess she thought I was hiding back there waiting to ambush her. I didn't have the guts to tell her I was just sitting there trying to work up the courage to walk in the front door and see her again after all that time.

Of course, my brilliant plan lasted until the moment I saw her face, and then, all I could do was smile like a big goofy idiot. Nothing else mattered anymore, and I felt stupid for thinking it ever did. I just wanted to give that great big dummy a hug and tell her I was relieved she was okay, and that she's finally starting to find something approaching happiness for once in her life.

And she was so sweet to me last night. The way she looked after me all night while she was working, letting me have the bed, making me breakfast this morning… Akane smiled as she thought of the way it had felt to be taken care of in that way by her former partner, even if it had something as simple as a fried egg and a bowl of rice.

I always figured, if we ended up together, I'd have to do all the domestic stuff. That's what Kasumi was always saying, anyway. Like, I was the girl, and so I was the one that had to master cooking and cleaning and all of that crap, whether I'm any good at it or not, and I'd never pull off being in a relationship until I figured it out. She could have done bridal training with me until I was sixty, and I probably still wouldn't be able to fry a fish filet worth a damn. Poor Ranko, she got sick so many times off of crap I fed her, but even when she complained, she always tried it. She knew how scared I was that nobody would ever want me because I wasn't cut out for all of that homemaker shit. But, there was so much pressure to get it right, so I kept trying, and I got so mad and frustrated when it went to hell every time.

And… I saw it as the pressure was all happening because I was engaged… and so, I took it out on the person I was engaged to. As if she asked for the engagement any more than I did.

Gods… I took so much out on her.

Forget how much I had to forgive when I saw her last night. How could she ever… forgive me?

Akane shook her head, her shoulders slumping as she crumpled to her right in her seat and curled up against the sidewall of the bus. She grimaced, inhaling sharply through her gritted teeth as the metal armrest jabbed into her ribs through her teal Furinkan pinafore.

She'd never. Not all the way. Not enough to… Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as she realized what she was considering. Am I actually thinking about… with her? With… a girl?! I… I couldn't! Not in a million years! I just couldn't…

… could I?

Besides, there's no way Ranko feels that way about me. Not after everything that's happened between us. I mean, hell, she barely understands herself right now, let alone being in a position to be in a relationship with anybody else. I can't even dare suggest it. I'd just look like a total freaking idiot. I'd embarrass us both. All she wants in the world is for her life to get simpler, and here's me rolling into her life unannounced with my big dumb idea that's way too little, way too late. The last thing she needs is that complexity in her world right now when she's still trying so hard to figure herself out.

But then… what the heck am I gonna do? I can't just… not go back. I promised her I would, and she looked so happy when I did. Maybe it's best to just pretend I don't feel anything. Keep my mouth shut. Ignore it until it goes away. It's a silly, stupid thought anyway. There's no way it could work. She's a girl now. It's wrong.

But then why does it feel so…

I mean, she's still got all the things I liked about Ranma before. She's still strong, and brave, and loyal. She's determined and she's fierce. But, she's softer now, too. Kinder. Sweeter. Happier. All the stuff that made me want to punt Ranma into the sun is just… gone, and in its place…

The raven-haired girl beamed, remembering every detail of the young woman she shared a bedroom with the night before as if she had been someone Akane had met for the first time, and not at all the same person her father had forced into an engagement with nearly two years ago. Remembering how she moved in that adorable white lace dress. Remembering how her pulse quickened when Ranko bent over to roll up her sleeping mat and Akane had caught a glimpse of her underwear. Remembering the way Ranko's eyes brightened at the sight of Akane's smile when she clipped that lace bow in her hair.

The high schooler rested her temple against the cold glass of the bus window. She bit her lower lip as she realized that her cheeks were likely warm enough to melt away the fog forming on its outer surface.

The way she smiles now. Gods… She was…

Her introspection was interrupted by a tinny, crackly chime emitted from the public address speakers overhead.

"Nerima Station, now arriving. If this is your stop, please gather your belongings and exit through the doors at the center of the bus. If not, please clear the aisles of your personal effects to clear the way for boarding and disembarking passengers. Thank you for riding with us, and have a pleasant rest of your day."

The brakes gave a loud, shrill squeak as the dilapidated bus jerked to a stop. Akane stood, smiling shyly at her flushed reflection in the frosted-over window pane.

She was… perfect.

 

[AnneOminous]

Ranko bowed, her cheeks aglow with an enthusiastic smile. The patronage of the bar still cheered as the last note of a Japanese pop song faded from the air.

"Thanks, everybody!" She waved excitedly from the stage, taking advantage of her elevated position to survey the tables for anyone who needed her attention. "I'll be around in just a second to check on you all!"

A few of her regulars waved back to her from their seats. They'd quickly become accustomed to the routine in the last few weeks, whereby their table service was occasionally unavailable for a few minutes on account of her needing to go croon a love ballad on the bar's tiny corner stage. The bar's staff had settled into a routine in which, on busy nights where the full complement was on shift, Ranko would cover the half of the tables closest to the stage, and Mei the far half nearer to the front door. That left Yui to run the main bar for people who walked up to buy a drink, Izumi behind the service bar crafting cocktails for Ranko and Mei to deliver to the tables, and Hana running the kitchen. As it was late in the evening, food orders had dwindled, however, and the majority of the orders being taken were of the alcoholic variety.

Ranko hopped down from her little corner platform and retrieved her notepad and serving tray from atop the karaoke monitor. That done, she headed toward table nineteen, the closest of her tables. "Hey, everybody! We all having a good night? What can I get you? Anybody need anything topped off?"

The six young men at the table all started shouting their orders to her at once, a cacophony of cocktail names and special requests raining down on the flummoxed server.

"Whoa! Easy, boys!" Ranko held up her hands in surrender. "I can only handle one of you at a time."

A black-haired guy in a brown leather jacket snickered wolfishly, and Ranko could only shake her head and roll her eyes in his direction. Honestly, dude? Why you gotta make it all nasty like that? I've only been a cute girl working at a bar for a couple of weeks, but I've already seen plenty of shit that makes me ashamed I was ever a guy. I hope I never came off all gross like that with women. Especially Akane.

After a high-five or two and a smattering of laughter, the half-dozen patrons eventually calmed down enough to give Ranko their orders individually. Having jotted them all on her notepad, she headed for the service bar to relay the drink requests to Izumi. She stopped behind the main bar to drop a few empty glasses off in the dishwasher.

"Hey, Ranko, honey?" Hana waved to the redhead from behind the blue saloon door. She wasn't used to standing idle on a busy night, but since Ranko had acclimated to her role, her girls had become so efficient that she barely had anything to do some nights, especially when the kitchen was slow. "Are you doing okay? You haven't had a break in a few hours."

The redhead grinned, waving dismissively in the direction of her adoptive mother as she scooped her tray back into her hand. "I'm alright, Mama! It'll take more than a few catcalls to wear me out."

Hana laughed with a shake of her head. "I was more worried about your dance routines up there, goofball, but alright. If you're sure. Let me know if you change your mind, okay? Things are quiet enough back here that I could cover for you for a minute, if you need to sit down."

Ranko grinned, chuckling under her breath. If she only knew how much physical exertion I'm used to enduring. I could do this shit all day.

A sliver of moonlight pierced the darkened front half of the bar as the glass double door opened, admitting three tall men into the establishment from the street. All wore conservative business suits, and they definitely didn't look like they belonged in a dive bar in Japan at midnight on a work day. From their appearance, Ranko wondered if they were Americans.

Ranko smoothed her lavender sundress around her hips, adjusting her ponytail as she walked up to the hostess stand. She willed herself to suppress a shiver as she stepped into the colder air that had followed the men into the bar, greeting the newcomers with a welcoming wave. "Hi, guys! Looking for a table, or would you rather sit at the bar?"

The tallest of the three replied, but in English. "We're okay. Thanks."

Ranko looked at him with a bit of confusion, but he extended his palm in a back off gesture and led his party to an empty table near the stage. Once seated, the men all began looking over the drink menus, having said nothing further to their server.

Well, alright, Ranko thought with a shrug and a sigh. Good to see you too, I guess.

Ranko made a pass by the bar, picking up the six drinks for the table with the rowdy guys at table nineteen and dropping them off. She only had to dodge one hand trying to sneak up the back of her dress as she passed out the cocktails. One of these days, someone is going to catch me in a bad mood with that nonsense, and they're gonna have to explain to their wife how their wrist got broken when they get home. You guys are lucky that I need to protect the reputation of the bar for Mama, and I don't want the girls to know how good I really am at martial arts, because way too many of these dudes have had an asskickin' on back order for long enough as it is. Suppressing her instinct to punch the offender, she instead flashed a furious glare at the black-haired man as she stepped out of his reach, hoping he got the hint.

After picking up a few empty glasses and topping off a few beers from a pitcher, she decided to check on the Americans again. She sidled up to table twelve with an exuberant wave, trying to bury her frustration at the boys at table nineteen, and also to offset the brusque greeting the Americans had given her at the hostess stand, by killing them with kindness. "Hi, everybody! My name's Ranko, and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Welcome to the Phoenix! What looks good to you?"

The American who had spoken to her at the hostess stand rolled his eyes, responding very slowly, almost condescendingly, in English. "Three beers and some cheese sticks." He tossed the laminated menu to the tabletop, shaking his head in disgust.

Ranko bit her lip, nodding and heading back to Izumi to relay the drink order before slipping through the saloon door to ask Hana to prepare the food. One of these days, I gotta learn how all these machines and crap work back here, so I can help out more. I wanna learn how every little thing in this place runs. I don't want there to be a single thing I can't do to help them, after everything they've done for me.

She buzzed back down the narrow white hallway to the front of the house, scanning the back half of the bar room from behind the twin counters. Seeing that her tables all appeared to be fairly contented for the moment, Ranko rinsed out a few glasses and started the dishwasher while Izumi continued preparing drinks.

As her sister still had a few drinks lined up in the queue ahead of table twelve, Ranko walked to the back corner next to the stage to kill a few minutes. She glanced through the music catalog on the karaoke machine, trying to decide what she might want to sing next and blushing at some of the costumes the girls on the album covers were wearing. It's only a matter of time before Izzi manages to stuff me in something ridiculous like that when I sing. She's already tried more than once. Gods only know what kinda sadistic getup she's gonna make me wear for her wedding. At least that, I won't be suffering alone; Yui and the other girls are gonna have to do it too.

Seeing the drinks for table twelve being lined up on the counter, Ranko rushed back to collect them, "Thanks, Izzi!"

"You got it, sis," the brunette bartender said with a grin and a nod of her head as she shook a cosmopolitan over her shoulder in her aluminum tin.

Not wanting to further frustrate the irritable-seeming Americans with further delay, Ranko hurried to table twelve. "Here you go, guys!" She placed a frosted glass of cider in front of each of the men, flashing each a bright smile of their own. "Your food should be right up."

One of the Americans looked over his pilsner glass in disgust, pushing it back in her direction on the tabletop. "We said beer. What the fuck is this?" came his angry English reply.

Ranko looked over the glass. What's the issue? She didn't understand his frustrated glare. "Is it flat? That can happen sometimes when we get a little backed up behind the bar. I'll get you some new ones right away! Sorry about that!"

She picked up all three glasses, placing them on her tray and returning to the bar counters. As Izumi was still buried in orders, she approached the main bar instead. "Yui, I think these got messed up somehow. I don't know what's wrong, but they didn't want 'em. Maybe the glasses are dirty or something?"

Yui looked over the glasses, shrugging and pouring the first of them out in the sink behind the bar. "Those seemed fine, but we'll redo them anyway. I know that type can be picky sometimes," she said with a sigh. "Sometimes, I think they just want to make you do something twice so they know you paid attention. Sorry they're giving you a hard time."

While Yui popped open some fresh bottles, Hana emerged from the kitchen with the food order for table twelve, which Ranko gratefully accepted. The redhead headed over to the table again, hoping to placate the irritable patrons. "Hi again! So sorry about your drinks; your new ones are almost ready! In the meantime, here's your appetizer!" She placed a tray of nachos at the center of the table, walking off before she heard the shortest of the three exclaim in English, "What the hell?!"

Just can't make these guys happy tonight. Damn! What's got them so pissy? She quickly grabbed the three new ciders, this time serving them in the bottles to help ensure that they didn't lose carbonation in the pouring.

When she placed them in front of the three men, one of them slammed the table with his palm. "Oh, come on!"

Ranko looked at the three of them, a little panicked. She was trying to determine what to do next when she heard Hana's voice over her shoulder, speaking in English to the man who had smacked the table.

"Is everything okay over here? Anything I can do for you?"

The frustrated man motioned to Ranko as he looked up to Hana, rolling his eyes. "Yeah. You can get rid of this ditzy bitch and find us somebody who can get our orders right!"

Hana glared at them, raising her voice a little. "Hey now. We're sorry that your order wasn't right, and I'll be happy to fix it for you, but I won't have you talking about my girls like that!"

The brash American groaned, gesturing in Ranko's direction again. "Why not? It's not like the fucking idiot has any idea what I'm saying."

Ranko, for her part, stood at Hana's side like a deer in headlights, feeling quite ashamed that the owner had felt the need to get involved in one of her tables at all. I'm supposed to do this stuff so she doesn't have to. It's my job, she fretted nervously.

Hana's furious eyes panned the irritated trio, and she crossed her arms over her breasts with a creak of the well-worn black leather jacket she was almost never seen without. "What did you order to drink?"

The youngest-looking of the three Americans chimed up. "Just three beers. Not like it's especially difficult."

Hana nodded sharply. "Alright. You got it. I'll get you three beers, no charge. You can drink them on your way out the door."

The proprietress' voice had an angry edge that Ranko hadn't heard much before, and it was deeply unsettling to the bar's youngest employee. Oh, shit. I pissed her off. Fuck.

The man sitting in the middle of the three motioned angrily toward Ranko, smacking the table hard enough to shake it and draw the attention of a nearby couple having a date at table eleven. "Can you believe this shit? You're kicking us out because you can't hire competent help? Whatever, lady! I bet the place down the street has cuter girls, anyway."

Hana motioned for Ranko to follow her, and stalked angrily up to the bar. "Yui, get me three beers, in to-go cups, for our douchebag friends. Quickly, please."

Ranko frowned, grimacing at Hana's Japanese instructions to her older sister. Of course they were upset! I got their order wrong! Fuck, I probably screwed up their food, too!

When the beers were placed on the counter, Ranko hurriedly reached for one, glad for the opportunity to correct her mistake. She looked up, worry in her eyes, as Hana grabbed her wrist and prevented her from taking hold of the first plastic cup.

"Nuh-uh. You, sit." Hana pointed to the closest bar stool. "You aren't going anywhere near that table until those guys are gone, you got me?"

"I… yes, ma'am." Ranko mounted one of the brown vinyl-covered bar stools, looking down at the countertop with a sullen expression on her face. She hadn't really made too many mistakes since she started working at the bar, and she didn't like how it felt at all.

Hana collected the full cups in her arms, carrying them to table twelve. She handed each of the men a beer and waited until they stood before physically shepherding them toward the front door.

Ranko didn't know what was being said, but she couldn't imagine any of it was pleasant. She wanted to go over to them and apologize; to try to make up for her mistake. Better not. Mama made it abundantly clear that I wasn't to talk to them any more. The last thing I wanna do is disobey her and make her even angrier.

When Hana returned, she motioned for Ranko to stand. "C'mere, Ranko."

Seeing the dejection in her sister's eyes, Mei turned to follow and offer support, but Hana waved her off. The matriarch of the Phoenix gave Mei a reassuring smile that Ranko did not see. "Give us a minute, please, Mei? Hold the fort for us out here?"

Mei nodded, and looked over the floor to see if any of Ranko's tables needed anything.

Meanwhile, Ranko followed her adoptive mother into her office, hanging her head. She did not like how the situation was playing out, at all. While she hoped it was just Hana's frustration at the rude guests, there was a stiffness in the old barkeep's mannerisms that terrified Ranko. Am I… going to be let go?

When the office door latched closed, she could wait no longer to plead her case. "Mam… Hana, I'm so sorry I messed up their table. I promise I'll be more careful next time." She bowed stiffly to the elder woman, remaining bent at the waist with her eyes to the floor.

Hana, for her part, looked up at her daughter with a puzzled expression that quickly changed into one of disarming understanding as she slipped into the ratty black office chair behind her overflowing desk. "Ranko, honey, come on. Stop that. I'm not mad at you! Not at all. Those guys were jerks. We don't need their kind around here."

The redhead exhaled heavily, and her mother could see her fear begin to dissipate in her muscles as Ranko straightened her back and opened her mouth to speak. "Then, what is…"

The bar's owner put up a hand to interrupt Ranko's words. "You… don't speak English, do you?"

Ranko grimaced and shook her head. "A few words and phrases here and there. That's it. I'm… I'm really sorry."

"But…" Hana blinked in confusion. "You've sung plenty of American songs out there. What am I missing?"

The young singer shrugged. "I practice the American ones until I can mostly make the noises I hear in the track like I'm supposed to. I don't have the slightest idea what the heck I'm singing about, most of the time." I really hope it's nothing gross; I mostly just pick them from the pictures in the computer thing.

Hana nodded, a concerned expression on her face. "I don't understand. It's been a minute since I went to school, but I know high schools require a couple years of English classes." Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open slightly as the realization struck home. "You… never finished school, did you?"

Ranko did not answer in words, but the shame with which she bowed her head told the proprietress all she needed to know.

"Oh, honey…" Hana's hand rose to cover her open mouth.

Ranko sighed, only speaking after a long few seconds of silence. "With all the time I spent traveling with my father, I was probably years behind anyway. I think they only put me in the grade I was in last year because Pop knew somebody on the city council, and I didn't even pass that." She bowed at the waist again. "I'm so sorry."

Hana stood from her chair. She closed the distance between them in two quick steps, and as Ranko rose from her bow, Hana wrapped her arms around the slender girl. "Sweetheart, stop that. Don't you dare apologize."

What I would give to be able to get my hands around the throat of this poor kid's father, just for a minute, and give him a piece of my mind for all the shit he put her through, Hana thought as she held the slightly trembling teenager.

"Listen to me, Ranko. Everything is okay. I'm not upset with you at all. We're going to find a way to make this easier for you, I promise. I just need to think on it for a minute and figure out what to do. In the meantime, if you get any other customers that don't speak Japanese, just come get me or one of your sisters. We'll handle it."

Ranko cringed. "I…" She lowered her head. "Yes, ma'am. I guess I'll need to tell the other girls, then." She bit her lip, her embarrassment painted all over her face.

Hana shook her head, giving her charge another squeeze around the shoulders. "I'll take care of it."

The redhead stepped back from the embrace, wiping her eyes before they could well past the point of no return. "I should… get back out there."

 

[AnneOminous]

Everybody, I am so sorry this is a few hours late. I've been dealing with a lot of health issues, and I straight up blacked out at my desk. I got all my prescriptions for the first time since August yesterday, so once the pharmacy fills everything, I should be on the upswing. Fingers, toes and everything else crossed.

In the meantime, you have my sincerest apologies and my promise to get back on track tomorrow.

 

[AnneOminous]

Ranko spit the last mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, sticking her out her tongue with a crinkled nose as she rinsed her toothbrush and rested it on the counter. Blegh. That mint stuff is nasty. She yawned loudly as she made her way to the open closet. To her dismay, no new options had appeared in it while she was in the shower.

I have gotta find a minute to do some laundry. It's just such a pain in the ass to haul everything to the laundromat around the corner, especially when it's cold. Maybe I can get Aya to give me a lift next time she comes by, Ranko thought hopefully. Of her newfound family, only Ayako and her husband Kage owned a car; Mei and Izumi preferred to rely on public transport, and Yui had taken after the girls' adoptive mother and purchased a motorcycle.

Sighing in resignation, she extracted a red corduroy skirt that didn't quite reach her knees and a light gray t-shirt with a large pink heart on the front from her cramped little closet, beginning to get herself dressed. I'm gonna freeze my tits off in this outfit, and it is going to suck. A lot. As soon as I get some spare money, I have got to get myself some warmer clothes. The Amazon curse of the Full Body Cat's Tongue had made her skin terribly sensitive to heat, but almost more so to extreme cold, and she acutely felt the December chill every time the front door of the Phoenix opened at night.

Pulling her hair into a loose ponytail with a white hair elastic, she looked herself over in the mirror that hung from the closet door. Not amazing, but it'll do, she thought to herself, stepping into her black slip-on shoes and opening the apartment door to head downstairs and start her day. She was out the door far earlier than usual on that Monday morning; the slow Sunday night before had permitted Ranko and her sisters to complete most of the closing tasks in the last hour the bar was open. Prior to the night before, the last shift at the Phoenix that Ranko recalled ending before three in the morning had involved a blunt-force head trauma.

She could have stayed upstairs and relaxed, but truly, Ranko wanted to get a head start on the day. Maybe I can get most of the morning stuff done before the girls even get here, to help out. I bet, with everything going on, they'd appreciate it. I mean, Izzi's neck-deep in wedding planning, and Mei… Ranko blinked, shaking her head with a sudden realization. Come to think of it, I don't know what the heck's up with Mei. She's only worked one or two nights this week. I hope she's okay. Maybe she's just busy with homework and shit. In any case, I should probably plan on another shift of just me, Mama and Yui. Hopefully it'll be slow again tonight, 'cause man, covering the whole floor by myself and singing once an hour is kinda kicking my ass, especially on the days Izzi tries to make me wear freakin' heels.

Ranko sighed as she reached the base of the stairs. Even Mama Hana's been a little distant with me the last few days. I hope it's not, like, 'cause she's still disappointed in me 'cause I didn't finish school or anything like that. It's not that I didn't wanna graduate, I just… I couldn't. Not like that. Not at Furinkan. Not as a girl. She shuddered, recalling the feel of Tatewaki Kuno's hands exploring her chest as they had the first day she had met the philandering upperclassman. I can't wait 'til Akane's out of that fucking hellhole. I know he graduated, but I'm sure he's still hanging around, especially given his freakazoid dad runs the joint. And it's not like all the rest of the horde is any better, they're just not good enough martial artists to even stand a chance against Akane.

She shook her head, casting her eyes to the floor as she made a right turn and walked into the empty bar kitchen. I'm sorry, Akane. Maybe I shouldn't have run. It was selfish, I know. I mean, I'm in a much better place now, but maybe I should have stayed and protected you, even though… Ranko sighed again, dropping her fist onto the metal prep counter with a loud thunk.

Who am I even kidding? She'd be protecting me, rather than the other way around. I'm the fragile little girl now, especially compared to her. She's the most badass martial artist in Nerima now, and I'm the one making a living shaking my ass for strangers in short skirts and twin pigtails.

Ranko scoffed under her breath, allowing herself to laugh at her own realization.

And, while I absolutely hate everything I had to lose to get here, gods help me…

I'm having the time of my fucking life doing it.

I'm happy. I'm safe. I have people that actually… She beamed down at the ever-present silver dragon coiled around her left wrist. Its tiny sapphire eye almost seemed to smile back at her. "I am wanted, I have worth, and I have people who care about me," she whispered, breaking the almost oppressive silence in the normally-bustling commercial kitchen.

Ranko pulled up a metal stool to the prep counter. That done, she walked to the back corner of the room, pulling open the door to the walk-in cooler. Fuck! Cold-cold-cold… where are you… She wrapped her arms around her torso, not that it did much to combat the Full Body Cat's Tongue's reaction to standing in a freezer in a thin cotton tee shirt and a skirt that didn't cover even down to her knees. She frantically scanned the aluminum racks of the cooler, bending down at the waist to lift a large plastic bin of oranges from the bottom shelf on her left. Her cheeks flushed as she realized that the way she bent for the bin would have given anyone standing behind her a show under her red corduroy skirt. Sad thing is, I'm grateful for the warmth on my friggin' face.

She hurried out of the walk-in, kicking it closed behind her with her heel as she carried the bin of fruit back to her stool. Ranko mounted the stool, yelping audibly as her backside came in contact with the cold metal. "Shit!" The redhead rocketed back to her feet, tugging her skirt down as much as it would go on her slender frame in an attempt to prevent her skin from making contact with the seat. Exhaling heavily and bracing herself in case she misjudged the skirt again, she tentatively sat, this time more comfortably.

Sighing, she grabbed an orange from the top of the heaping bin. She reached to her right, her hand grasping at air over the knife rack. Ranko sighed and rolled her eyes. You put them all in the dishwasher last night, stupid. She stood again, making her way toward the main bar down the narrow hallway. After pushing through the blue slatted door into the bar room, she popped open the dishwasher behind the service bar with her foot. Its lower rack slid out to meet her, and she drew a long chef's knife from the plastic silverware caddy in it with a ringing sound not unlike the unsheathing of a sword. She giggled for a moment, imagining herself as some samurai warrior from a Kurasawa movie as she grasped the chef knife's handle with both hands, taking a wide stance behind the service bar. "I, Ranko Tendo, swear on my honor as a martial artist that I will purge the world of all vile, corrupt fruits! Citrus demons, begone!" Spinning the knife back into a more defensive posture for safer carrying, she continued laughing as she walked back through the white linoleum-tiled hallway toward the kitchen. She paused halfway, having noticed something strange that had failed to catch her eye on the way out to the bar room.

The door to Hana's office was partially ajar.

Mama never leaves her door open. She's too embarrassed about how messy it gets in there. She cracked a slight smile. I've got some extra time this morning. Maybe I could clean up in there a little for her before she comes in. It'd be a nice surprise, to show her how much I appreciate everything she's been doing for me.

Ranko gently pushed the office door open the rest of the way, its hinges protesting with a quiet creak. As she did, she found Hana slumped over on the cracked red leather couch along the far wall. She was quietly snoring. An empty glass tequila bottle lay on the brownish-red area rug, not far from where her left arm loosely hung.

Ranko sighed, putting the knife down as quietly as she could on the cluttered desktop next to a pile of papers, tucking its blade under the stack. "Mama, this isn't good for you," she said quietly, almost to herself rather than her sleeping boss. She picked up the black leather jacket that was still draped over the back of Hana's dilapidated office chair, covering her form up with it as best she could.

As the weight of the coat landed on her body, Hana stirred with a loud groan and reached up for her right temple. "Huh? Wha… oh. Hey, Ranko."

Ranko could tell just from the smell of the old barkeep's breath exactly where the tequila had gone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. Are you… okay? If you need to rest, you're more than welcome to use the bed upstairs."

Hana waved her off limply, her coordination clearly not fully online yet after having just woken up. "I'm fine, fine. You don't fret about me, now, baby. I'm the mom around here. That's my job."

The redhead sighed, shaking her head with an amused smile. "We take care of each other here, remember? That's what you always say, anyway." She spoke more quietly, mindful of the wince on the proprietress' face in response to her initial greeting. Ranko bent down, this time remembering to do so at the knees in deference to the lack of modesty afforded to her in her less-than-modest skirt, and scooped the empty bottle up from the floor. "Can I… make you some tea or anything?"

Hana shook her head, a new grimace and her left hand rising to her other temple indicating that she regretted making that particular gesture. "Coffee. Black. Strong."

Ranko flashed the proprietress a spritely grin. "Coming right up!" She had been trying to put on as cheerful a demeanor as possible around Hana of late, trying to proactively demonstrate that she was feeling more happy and confident. With any luck, she hoped, it might slow the torrent of well-meaning but prying questions she got about her past from all five of the other denizens of the Phoenix. Ranko actually found it fairly easy to do; she had just gotten in the habit of using her customer service voice when speaking to Hana as if she were one of the bar's patrons and not its owner. She found it hard to do so and simultaneously modulate her vocal volume in order to be considerate of Hana's apparent hangover, however. The redhead disappeared from the untidy office, returning a few moments later with a steaming white ceramic mug that she handed to the elder woman.

Hana cupped the mug in both of her hands, as Ranko had not offered it to her handle-first. The hypersensitive teen could not bear its heat directly on her skin without the few centimeters of air gap the handle provided. Beyond that, she dared not risk something as innocuous as a few spilled drops of black coffee unveiling her deepest secret: the long-avoided masculine form lying in wait to burst out of her miniskirt in a fit of agony at the first touch of hot liquid. Hana downed half of the mug's contents quickly, making a little grunt in reaction to the still-scalding brew coursing down her throat.

Ranko pulled the tattered, wheeled office chair around the desk, sitting in it and facing the bar's matriarch. "Miss Hana, is there anything you want to talk about? You've seemed kind of… off lately. I'm worried about you." She had been a little hesitant to use the honorific Mama in Hana's presence for the last few days, owing in large part to her continued sense of guilt over the incident with the American patrons.

The bar's matriarch shook her head, more gently this time. "It's nothing you can help with."

Ranko sighed quietly, looking down at her hands. "Maybe not, but I'd like to try. You've done so much for me."

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?!" Hana's voice took on an irritated tone that took Ranko by surprise.

Ranko recoiled in shock at the sound of Hana's raised voice. "I… yes, ma'am."

Hana sighed, downing the rest of her coffee in one gulp and standing. She hesitated for a moment, leaning on the wall behind the couch to regain her equilibrium. As she did, a letter-folded piece of white paper fell off of the couch, seemingly having ended up under Hana's body when she passed out on it after the previous night's service.

Ranko bent down in Hana's chair and picked it up. "Mama, you dropped your…" As she held the document up to the barkeep, she caught a glimpse of what was written on it. She hadn't been trying to pry, but the kanji FINAL DEMAND FOR PAYMENT stamped in red across the top were hard to miss.

Hana turned as Ranko spoke, but given her diminished reflexes, she could not react fast enough to keep the letter's contents secret. She sighed defeatedly, slumping back down on the couch. "So, I guess you know now. We're in some trouble here." Hana shook her head dejectedly. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, honey. I'm just… I don't know what I'm gonna do."

Ranko looked at her benefactor, her jaw falling slightly slack. "But… we've been doing so well lately, I thought. The bar has been full most nights."

"Since you started singing, yeah. But we were behind long before you got here, honey. It's just been too little, too late. And I… I'm out of ideas. More than thirty years of my life I've poured into this place." She rocked back on the couch, resting her elbows on her thighs and cradling her head in her hands. "I just haven't been able to figure out how to tell you girls, especially you. You finally had some fucking stability in your life."

Ranko looked over the bill in her hand, assuming there were several more bearing such threatening warnings buried in the teetering stack of papers on the desktop behind her. Her mind raced. Not only will I be out of a job, and a place to stay, but what will it do to Hana and the girls?! Their whole lives are tied up in this place. All of them pay their bills out of here. Their whole identity is the Phoenix. Just the way they say the name of the bar, you'd think it was their clan name.

These people helped me when nobody else would. Maybe I can't be the big, bad martial artist that protects Akane from dozens of horny jocks back at Furinkan anymore, but this? Maybe this, I can do something about. There's more than one way to protect the people you care about. This cannot stand. I'm gonna handle it for them. Somehow. I swear it.

Ranko put on as bright of a customer service smile as she could muster, and eyes filled with hope, hoping to replenish Hana's diminished reservoir of it. Meanwhile, at her side, her left hand clenched tight into a determined fist.

This family is not gonna get hurt on my watch, she resolved to herself. Ever.

"What we're gonna do is fix it, Mama." All of the hesitation Ranko had felt about using the honorific for her benefactor had evaporated in an instant.

Hana scoffed dismissively. "That's a great sentiment, Ranko, but how?! We owe way too much, and there just isn't enough time, especially with Christmas coming."

The teen sighed wistfully, thinking back to the prior Christmas. She'd spent it at the Tendo house. She'd never for a moment considered it would be her last one together with Akane. If she'd only known what she was starting back then, when she forced me to dress up and sing for her dad with her…

Ranko's eyes lit up, launching herself to her feet with such force that it sent Hana's rickety office chair skittering nearly all the way to the back wall of the cramped office space. "Mama, that's it!"

Hana looked up at her ebullient ward with an utterly befuddled look on her face. First off, she's being entirely too perky for nine in the morning, especially given she just got terrible news. Second, my head is killing me. Third, how could this kid honestly think she's gonna come up with something in a few seconds, when I've been racking my brain for months, with four decades of bar experience under my belt, and come up with bupkus? And, fourth… my head is really killing me.

"You said it yourself," Ranko asserted excitedly. "The bar started filling up when I started singing. So, that's what I'll do."

Hana groaned, both in frustration, and in response to the noticeable rise in Ranko's speaking volume. "Didn't you hear me? We couldn't possibly sell enough drinks to catch up the bills before they're due."

The hopeful songstress nodded, grinning with pride at her sudden epiphany. "Which is why we're going to sell tickets at the door, too. We're going to have ourselves a Christmas concert!"

Hana looked up from her palms. "You… you can't be serious."

Ranko nodded forcefully enough to throw her ponytail over her shoulder. "There's room for what, about three hundred people in the bar, if we take the tables in the middle out? If we charge three thousand yen a person, that's…" She searched through the loose papers on the desk for a scratch pad and a pencil, writing out the math problem, and taking a painfully long time to complete it. "Nine hundred thousand yen, before drink and food sales. Would that be enough to get us out of trouble?"

The leather-clad barkeep sat up, a spark of hope beginning to take shape behind her mask of melancholy. "Not by itself, but it would be a damn good start!"

Ranko beamed. Did I actually… have a good idea? "And if we have to, we can always do two events, like, on back-to-back nights or something."

Hana sighed, gently shaking her head. The momentary excitement in her face faded as quickly as it had appeared. "Yeah, but let's be realistic. This is way too much to put on you, especially in, what? Eight, ten days? Shit, I don't even know what fuckin' day it is. But, you're already working so hard, and you're just a kid. This is why I hid all this from you girls in the first place."

The young singer closed the gap between them, reaching down and offering Hana her right hand. "In the few weeks I've been here, you and Yui and Izzi and Mei have been there for me more than my blood family were in eighteen years. You've invested so much in me, and now it's time for that investment to pay off." She squeezed Hana's hand reassuringly. "Please, Mama? Let me do this, and help my family? The way you've all helped me?"

Hana looked up resolutely, a tear forming in the corner of her right eye. "Okay, kiddo. If we're going down, fuck it. Let's have ourselves one hell of a party."

Ranko beamed, punching at the sky with her free hand. "YES! I promise, I won't let you down!"

Hana stood tentatively, wrapping an arm around Ranko's shoulders both in affection and to steady herself. "You couldn't if you tried, honey. But hey, do me a favor today?"

The redhead nodded, breathing deep of the scent of Hana's leather jacket. The smell always seemed to relax her. She associated it with hugs. With safety. With love.

"Anything, Mama."

The elder woman smiled, leaning down and softly kissing her young charge on the forehead. "Keep your fucking voice down, would ya, please?"

---

Hana leaned back in her wooden chair, her eyes searching the faces of the four women seated with her at table sixteen for reactions to Ranko's idea. Her own facial expressions were obscured by the dark-tinted sunglasses she wore to help keep her raging hangover at least partially at bay. The sparkly pink heart-shaped frames looked utterly ridiculous on the middle-aged, rough-and-tumble woman, but they were the only pair her youngest charge had available to loan her.

Yui spoke first, sitting up in her chair. She set her half-empty beer bottle down on the tabletop. "So, let me get this straight: we're in the shit, and our solution is to throw a friggin' party?!"

Ranko nodded. "Something like that, yeah. If we get the word out on the college campuses and stuff, I think we can put a pretty big dent in the problem, anyway. C'mon! We've gotta try, girls!"

To Ranko's right, a diminutive young woman with cotton-candy blue pigtails shrugged in exasperation. "But Christmas is less than two weeks away! How do you think we're going to pull this off?!"

Ranko cocked her head in Mei's direction, flashing her big sister a confident smile despite her own concerns. "It's gonna be hard, and even if we do everything right, it might not be enough. But I think we can pull it off, if we remember what we're fighting for and we do it together. This place is too important to all of us to not do everything in our power that has even a chance to help. We have an obligation to try."

"Well, I bet we could do a couple of special holiday-themed cocktails to get people ordering more drinks. I've been wanting to experiment with some stuff for a while," Yui said thoughtfully. "Maybe something with peppermint?"

Ranko clapped her hands once. If Yui's on board, I just know the others will follow suit. "Yes! Yui, that's a great idea! We'll need to make sure we have plenty of Christmas songs loaded up for me, too."

Hana nudged Ranko's arm, reclaiming her young ward's attention. "One problem we're glossing over, missy. Most Christmas songs are in English, remember?"

The redhead shrugged. "I'll just make the sounds; I don't even have to know what they mean. I already do that up there, sometimes."

The proprietress shook her head. "That's not going to work. You won't know what to choreograph, or what words to emphasize. Besides, if you're going to make me accept your help, I'm going to make you accept mine. We're going to help you learn it. I'm not saying you're gonna get you fluent in a week or anything, but let's see what we can do."

Ranko rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Christmas hardly seems like the right time to go back to school, but if you think it'll help, I'll try." She turned back to the blue-haired girl on her right. "Any ideas on how we can festive the shit outta this place on the cheap, Mei?"

Mei rubbed her chin for a moment thoughtfully before answering. "Didn't Ayako say Kage's mom loved Christmas, mama? I could have sworn she was talking about that with us at the wedding. And with her in-laws in Florida for the winter, I bet all their decorations are just sitting in an attic somewhere. Maybe we could borrow them?"

The only brunette at the table clapped her younger sister on the shoulder through her pastel green cardigan. "Great thinking, Mei! You wanna give Aya a call later and ask?" Izumi beamed with excitement. If there was one thing that never failed to energize the young designer, it was the opportunity to work on a creative endeavor - especially one that had a chance to involve stuffing one or more of her sisters into some over-the-top outfit or another.

Mei nodded. "Will do. I could try to do some Christmas-themed desserts or something, too, I guess."

Izumi gave her sister a bright grin and a thumbs-up. "I think that'd be awesome! I bet Aya'd love to help with that, too! She always did love working back in the kitchen!" The family's designated fashionista then turned her gaze back to the red-haired starlet seated opposite her. "And, speaking of getting things decorated all pretty…"

"Hmm?" Ranko looked up, swallowing hard at the sight of the devious expression on her sister's face. I don't know where this is going, but something tells me I ain't gonna like it.

Izumi grinned at her youngest sister. "This isn't just folks coming to a bar for a drink and listening to some karaoke while they're waiting on their tater tots. If we pack this place at three thousand yen a pop, they'll be paying specifically to see you, superstar. We've got to make sure you look the part. I'm talking, dress, hair, nails, makeup, the whole shebang."

Yui chuckled, tilting her beer bottle toward Izumi. "You've been trying to primp and polish that poor kid up since the second you met her, Izzi. She's not a fuckin' Barbie doll." Turning her gaze to Ranko, she softened her smile. "That said, this time, I think she's probably got a point, Ran-chan."

Ranko groaned, lowering her head. I did say I'd do anything I could to help. I guess that includes… She sighed in resignation, cradling her forehead in her palm and resting her elbow on the tabletop. "Alright, alright, Iz. You win. This time. But don't let it go to your head. This is special circumstances."

Izumi clapped her hands excitedly. "Yes! A true fashion emergency! I've been training my whole life for this! It's what I live for!"

"Think you could spare some of that energy to spread the word around your school?" Ranko grinned. "If you hit Shibuya Tech, and Mei can cover Minato University, that's thousands of potential people, and we can only fit three hundred in here anyway. Three-fifty, tops, if everybody gets real friendly."

The brunette turned the little pink notebook she'd been writing in to show Ranko that it was already filling up with ideas of places where the show could be promoted. "I got this, hon."

Hana looked around at her girls, wearing a proud smile despite her migraine. "It seems like everyone has a job except me."

Yui grinned, throwing her sweater-clad arm over Hana's shoulder. "Oh, I'm sure we'll find a use for you yet, old lady."

The girls' mother gave Yui a you've gotta be kidding me glare over the rims of her borrowed sunglasses. Her brief fit of mock indignation gave way to a broad smile, and she reached up to her face, pulling off the dark glasses so that everyone could see the sincerity in her eyes as she spoke. "I am just so proud of you all."

Yui stood, leaning over Hana's chair to hug her tighter around the shoulders. "Well, I guess it's a good thing all of us had someone in our lives who taught us how to pick ourselves up when we get knocked down and fight like hell for what's important to us."

Hana smiled up at the tall blonde. Within moments, the other three girls stood and huddled around Hana's chair as well, joining her and Yui in a short group hug.

The bar's mistress of mixology let go first, clapping her hands loudly. Yui cringed a bit, when she noticed Hana recoiling from the sound. "Well, alright, girls! What are you all standing around for?! We've got work to do!"

Spurred on by Yui's call to action, the wayward sisters scattered throughout the bar to attend to their designated tasks.

"Don't forget, girls, we still have to open tonight, too. Let's make sure everything's ready."

From four different places in the suddenly-bustling bar room came a merry chorus of assent: "Yes, Mama!"

Ranko started heading for the kitchen, realizing she'd never gotten around to slicing the oranges she'd taken out of the walk-in nearly two hours prior. Before she could reach the saloon door, Izumi playfully grabbed her ponytail and gave it a gentle tug. "Excuse me, little miss. Where do you think you're going?"

The redhead shrugged, pulling her hair back out of Izumi's hand gently. "I was gonna help prep the kitchen, like I always do."

Izumi grinned absolutely mischievously. "Okay! Good idea! I'll head over to the mall by myself, then, and you can just… wear whatever I decide to pick out for you."

Ranko swallowed with a gulp that was audible even over the clink of glass bottles being stocked behind the service bar. "Uhhhhh, Mama? Izzi and I are… going out for a while."

The excited brunette threw her arm around the small of her shorter sister's back, pulling her out from between the main and service bar counters and toward the bar's glass double doors at the front of the building. "I thought you might say something like that, Ran-chan! C'mon, let's go!"

 

[AnneOminous]

Ranko inhaled sharply, slowing to walk behind Izumi instead of next to her. From her slightly ragged breathing, it sounded as if she was in some sort of pain.

The third time she heard it over the whistling of the light wind blowing in her face, Izumi looked behind with a concerned expression. "Ran-chan, are you okay? You're awfully quiet." She placed her hand on Ranko's shoulder, and before the younger girl could answer, she knew the problem. "Gods, you're shivering something terrible! Are you that cold?!"

Ranko nodded emphatically, unsure she could speak without her teeth chattering. The temperature was fairly mild for a December in Tokyo, but not for someone in a tee shirt, a knee-length skirt, and a full body's worth of skin as sensitive as a cat's tongue.

"Why didn't you put on something warmer, silly?" Ranko's sister shook her head, brushing a wisp of her hair that had been displaced by the wind out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear just beneath her gray knit hat.

Ranko looked down, a glint of shame in her eyes.

Again, Izumi answered her own question. "You don't have anything warmer, do you?" For as obsessed with her new sister's wardrobe as she had been, she couldn't believe that she'd only actually added a few outfits to the eight or so that had been in the upstairs closet the day she arrived. The rest of the outfits Ranko had worn on stage had been things Izumi had loaned her from her own closet. We've gotta do something about this. At this rate, she's going to wind up coming down sick with something, Izumi thought with a deep frown. Well, I know what you're getting for Christmas, Ran-chan.

Izumi grabbed the faux leopard-fur trimmed sleeve of her heavy black cropped jacket, beginning to pull it off. "Here, put this on."

Ranko shook her head. "I'm f-f-fine."

Izumi rolled her eyes. "Like hell you are. Come on now. I've still got a sweater and jeans; I'm plenty warm without it. Let's go, little sister. I'm not asking here."

Ranko sighed regretfully. I can't make a girl suffer in the cold while… She shook her head with a self-admonishing roll of her eyes, her cheeks warming slightly despite the chill. You're a girl now, too, dummy. You don't have to be the white knight and take the hit all the time anymore. "O-k-kay. Th-th-th-thanks."

Izumi wrapped the puffy jacket around the redhead's shoulders. As Ranko's hands found their way into the sleeves, Izumi rubbed her back vigorously through the thick material to warm it up for her faster. "Since we're out shopping anyway, we are getting you at least a coat or something you can wear in the cold. It's non-negotiable."

"I th-think I'd like that, please," Ranko replied with a grateful smile.

---

"Alright. First things first, we need to find something warmer for you to wear. We need a pop star, not a pop-sicle." Izumi consulted the backlit directory kiosk of her favorite Shibuya shopping mall as she spoke.

Ranko nodded vigorously, rubbing her bare legs with her hands to try and warm them. She followed as Izumi led her into a large department store, pointing her in the direction of a display of denim.

"What size do you wear in jeans?" Izumi asked, already digging through a pile of slim-cut offerings.

Ranko turned to answer. She opened her mouth to speak, realizing at the last moment that the answer she was about to give had been in men's sizes. "I… actually don't know. Sorry."

Izumi shook her head with a smile. "Come to think of it, around the holidays, nobody does, honey. Get used to it." She pulled the same style of navy blue jeans in three different sizes from the white cubby shelf in which they were stacked, handing the pile of folded pants to her protégé. "Fitting room's right over there. Go on. Shoo."

After waiting for a moment for one of the three booths to be vacated, Ranko dropped the stack of jeans on its small padded bench, latching the door behind her. She unbuttoned the waistband of her red corduroy skirt, letting it fall to the floor and reaching for the topmost pair of pants. The first pair Ranko tried was far too big for her, but the second slid on comfortably. Zipping them up, she started to test her movement in them. They definitely fit tighter than men's pants, especially in the front. Of course, most of the pants she'd ever worn, especially in her masculine form, had been gi pants that were far more forgiving, designed for flexibility rather than fashion.

While she was slowly getting used to spending time in skirts, owing to Izumi's constant quest to doll her up for the ravenous crowds that watched her on stage, there was a certain comforting feeling about wearing pants again. Looking at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but notice what the tight jeans did for her shape. Speaking objectively as someone who used to be a dude and spent a lot of time looking at girls, this ain't half bad. And hey! Bonus! They have pockets! Glorious pock… wait. She pulled her fingertips out of the slit in the fabric, where they had barely delved past her painted fingernails before hitting bottom. Okay, what asshole got the bright idea to put fake pockets on girls' clothes?! Seriously, that's just a cruel freakin' tease.

She emerged from the fitting room, carrying the red skirt she had been wearing, and setting the two rejected pairs on the little chrome rack designated for products that needed to be reshelved. "How's this look?"

Izumi gave her a thumbs-up. "They fit you good, it looks like! Keep 'em on until we're ready to leave so you stay warm, and you can change out of them when it's time to check out. If you like them, grab another pair or two, and let's keep going. Lots to do, and not a lot of time."

Mindful of her still-limited budget, Ranko returned to the shelf where Izumi had found the jeans she was wearing and picked up one more pair, this one in black. Turning, she hurried after her sister-turned-stylist.

Izumi led her up an escalator to the second floor, taking a mere moment to locate a display of winter coats. "Here, pick yourself something out from here. Ideally something in a neutral color, like we did with your purse."

Ranko nodded, setting about looking for something in brown, black, white, or gray. Hey, she thought with a bright smile, I'm learning! She wasn't sure if she was proud or embarrassed, but she leaned toward the former. Her gaze quickly fell on a white peacoat. It was constructed of a heavy fabric, so it would be warm without the addition of fur or other textures that would be distracting on her skin. She picked it up and held it against her body on the hanger. It came down almost to her knees, which she hoped would help keep her legs warm even when she was wearing a skirt. Izumi's cropped jacket had barely reached halfway down her rib cage, by comparison, even on her shorter frame.

"Nice choice! It's cute, too! Here, let me help you try it on." She helped Ranko out of the jacket she had loaned her sister, tossing it over the aluminum rack for the moment, and held the white coat open for Ranko to slip into.

Ranko found that the peacoat was surprisingly comfortable and easy to move in, and it felt warmer even than Izumi's fur-lined jacket she had on previously. "Oh, yeah, I like this one! Does it look okay?"

Izumi grinned, pulling her own jacket back on as she spoke. "One of these days you're gonna get the full shopping experience, where you try on eight or nine things before you find something you like."

The redhead shrugged with a winning smile. "Hey, what can I say? I'm easy to please. Low-maintenance girl, right here." She gestured to herself with her thumbs for emphasis.

Izumi scoffed. "Just wait until you're trying on wedding dresses. You have to do like two hundred of them, and they take twenty minutes each for two people to get you in and out of."

The white coat contrasted sharply with the neon red shade of Ranko's face.

"Oh, stop with that look." Izumi tittered, rumpling her sister's hair gently. "I know it never feels like it until it does, but it'll happen for you one day, too."

For a split second, Ranko allowed herself to form the mental picture of herself in a white wedding gown, almost hearing Akane's voice in the recesses of her mind, before she shook herself free of it. Snap out of it, idiot. There's about fourteen levels of wrong with that picture. I've got a better chance to walk to the moon. "Yeah, if you say so," she replied mousily, her cheeks warm enough to fry bacon on.

"Speaking of which…" Izumi took her hand, pulling her a few dozen meters into another section of the store. There, numerous formal gowns were displayed on mannequins positioned next to racks mounted high on the walls to keep the long dresses from dragging the floor. She pointed at a sky-blue shimmery satin dress. It had spaghetti straps, a fairly modest cut at the chest, and a floor-length skirt with a knee-high walking slit snaking up the left side. A blue-gray satin ribbon encircled it at the waist, tying in a loose bow at the left hip. "What do you think of that?"

Ranko's face flushed deeper still. "Yeaaaaaah, I don't think that's going to work. I can't wait tables in that!" Or, you know, wear it at all, she thought to herself. I'm a girl now, but I've still got limits.

Izumi laughed. "Not for work, blockhead! For the wedding! I'm thinking about going with that for the bridesmaids. I really like it, but we'll need to find some sort of a shrug for Yui if I do."

Crap. I almost forgot I agreed to do that. I mean… Ranko was almost lightheaded from all the blood flow to her face as she glanced over the dress again, now giving herself permission to actually consider it. It's really pretty, but, like, for somebody else. There's no way I could pull off something like that. I wouldn't even know how to behave dressed like that, when everything's all formal and proper and shit. I'll say the wrong thing, or eat something with my fingers that I wasn't supposed to, and some duchess somewhere will have a heart attack just thinking about it.

"Uhhh, how do we feel about a nice, casual wedding? Jeans, tee shirts, maybe some barbecue?" She chuckled nervously, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Not a chance, little sister. Did you forget who you're talking to? Hello, fashion queen, right here!" Izumi pointed to herself with both of her index fingers. "Sorry, but you're going to have to suck it up and be elegant for a day. Who knows, you might even enjoy the whole princess dress-up thing if you give it a chance." Judging by what Ranko had told her of her childhood, Izumi doubted she had experienced that type of play very much growing up.

"I wouldn't hold your breath," came Ranko's grumbled reply.

Izumi chuckled a little darkly. "If the corsets I've tried on so far are any indication, I just might have to."

Ranko could not stifle the tension-breaking giggle that followed, and Izumi joined her in it.

"Come on, you. Let's find you something fabulous for your big show. Your first real concert." The young fashionista motioned her recalcitrant sister toward another array of racks.

Ranko groaned, half-kiddingly, and followed as she was directed to a seasonal section. The racks were filled with festive cocktail dresses in red, green, white and black, as well as sweaters with holiday patterns on them. Her eyes fell on a green knit sweater, an enormous drunken reindeer fashioned on its front out of red sequins. Images of glittery presents and an array of elves, candy canes, bells, and other holiday imagery covered the entire rest of the garment. Who the hell would wear something like that? They're hideous! I mean, maybe they're warm, and that's why? I guess somebody's buyin' 'em, though, 'cause they've got a shitload of 'em.

"Okay, kiddo. Our mission is to find something flirty, cute, and Christmas-ey. Let's lock in."

Ranko shuddered. "Flirty? Really?! Do you honestly not think I get enough wandering hands on an average shift?"

Izumi rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. You're not likely to be out in the crowd too much this time, though. You're pretty much gonna be nailed to the stage, girl. Besides, you're putting on a show. You're an entertainer now, little sister. We have to give them what they want."

The redhead sputtered a raspberry with her lips. "Says who?"

Izumi snickered. "Don't forget, this whole thing was your idea, Ran-chan."

Ugh. She's right. Why does she have to be right? Resigning herself to her fate, Ranko began searching the racks. Alright, Ranko, think. What would have excited me to see Akane wearing, back when I was a guy? Or, for that matter… Her face warmed yet again, but she willed the intrusive thought out of her mind as quickly as it had entered. Stop that, Ranko. It's never gonna happen. She emitted a quiet, resigned sigh. I damn sure wouldn't have been worried about whether it was itchy, or too short, or warm enough, or if it had pockets, though. Man, shit changes when you don't have testosterone pumping through your brain by the liter, I guess.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Izumi called out, "How about this?"

Ranko looked up as Izumi raised a hanger above her head, on which hung a mostly sheer red satin garment. Wait a second. That's a dress?! That looks more like something a girl would wear under a dress, if they wanted to be all sexy and shit. "No way I'm wearing that in public." Or in private. Or anywhere.

As she returned the hanger to the rack, Izumi gasped, her eyes falling on something across the aisle. "Oh, that's it. I got it!"

Ranko sighed resolutely, mentally preparing herself for whatever fresh hell her self-nominated fashion consultant had deigned to torment her with, and plodded along after her.

The elder girl reached the rack first, and pulled another hanger from the aluminum clothes rack. From it hung a forest green dress made of crushed velvet. The neckline was fairly modest, square cut and rimmed in white faux fur. It had long sleeves, with more white fluff lining the cuffs like Izumi's coat had. Izumi held it up to Ranko's body. Its lower hem, lined with more of the soft fake fur, came to just above the songstress' knees. A white vinyl belt was wrapped around the waist, and part of the vinyl was molded into a small white bow that concealed the clasping mechanism to secure the belt.

"That's… actually not that bad. All things considered, anyway." She glanced up at the wall-mounted mirror, chuckling a bit at her reflection. I'm gonna look like Santa's naughtiest elf in this thing. I'm guessing that's the point.

Izumi nodded excitedly. "Are you kidding? It's amazing! Go try it on?!"

But… you got me a coat and a pair of jeans, and I finally got warm! With a nod and a groan, Ranko snatched the hanger from her hand and locked herself in a nearby fitting room stall.

When she emerged in the festive holiday dress, Izumi clapped her hands excitedly. "Yes! That's perfect! It just needs a few finishing touches. I'm on it! Go get changed back into the outfit you wore in, so we can get checked out, and I'll be right back!"

By the time Ranko re-emerged in her tee shirt and red skirt, still wearing the white peacoat, Izumi was leaning against the fitting room wall waiting for her. In her hand was a small, green plastic shopping basket full of various accessories. There were hair clips, some sort of stockings, and a green velvet Santa hat that matched the material of the color of the dress nearly perfectly, and more things besides. "All set? Here, I also grabbed these, so you'd have some selection to choose from." Izumi pulled a stack of Christmas-themed cassette tapes out of the basket, showing the spines of the plastic cases to her companion. "You think these will work?"

Ranko shrugged. "Hell if I know. I guess so?" She'd never picked the music when she sang Christmas songs at the Tendo home; she had always just gone through whatever motions Akane had asked her to. At the bar, it had mostly been Mei picking the songs. And in any case, it's not like I know what they say, anyway.

The brunette nodded. "Alright. We should pay for this stuff and think about getting back to the bar. It's getting late, and they're gonna need us in time for opening." She led her sister to a nearby checkout station, where a bored-looking clerk in his early twenties leaned on the counter. He was almost impossibly thin, his red uniform polo almost a full size too big for him.

"Hello! Thank you for shopping at W… w…" His voice stopped mid-word as his gaze fell on the redhead standing at Izumi's side. He reached for Izumi's shopping basket, his eyes not leaving the redhead, and almost knocked it off the counter when he misjudged the distance he had to reach to extract the first of the accessories Izumi had chosen from it. "S-s-sorry."

Izumi flashed her sister a mischievous grin as the clerk managed to begin scanning their selections, dragging them across a barcode reader mounted under a panel of glass in the countertop.

Ranko pulled her new peacoat off, setting it on the counter to be scanned. She could have sworn the poor guy at the counter's eyes were going to pop out of his head as he picked up the coat with a tremble in his wrist. What's this guy's deal? He's acting like he saw a ghost or something.

Reaching into her purse, Izumi laid a stack of bills in the plastic payment tray on the counter, bowing in polite thanks as she collected the three bags containing their spoils, handing the two containing the jeans and the coat to her sister. "You should pop back into the fitting room and put these back on, so you're warmer on the way home."

Ranko nodded, and the pair started walking back toward the changing area. She shot Izumi a side-eyed glance, as her sister had started giggling the moment they were out of earshot of the register. "What's so funny?!"

"Oh, come on, girl! Don't even try to tell me you didn't see that." Izumi smirked, glancing back at the checkout counter.

Now what the heck did I get wrong? The redhead flushed in embarrassment. "Izumi, what the hell are you talking about?"

Wow, Izumi thought, blinking in surprise. She really is that oblivious, huh? She leaned in closer to her sister, speaking in a hushed tone. "That guy was totally checking you out, sis."

Ranko gulped so hard that thought she might swallow her own tongue. "N-no way!"

"Don't worry, little sister," Izumi said as they reached the fitting room stalls. "I'll stand guard while you change, so nobody comes peeping." She flashed her sister an absolutely devilish sneer. "Unless you'd prefer I didn't, that is…"

The redhead pushed open the middle of the three stall doors, turning back to Izumi with a flustered smile as she set her bags on the bench. "So, hey, Miss Konishi? Bite me."

---

Some forty-five minutes after departing the shopping mall, the pair entered the bar they called home through the glass double doors. Ranko was indeed grateful to have her new jeans and coat, as the temperature had dropped significantly in the two hours they had spent in the mall, and the wind had picked up as well. There hadn't been much conversation on the train ride back; Ranko had spent most of the train ride using Izumi's portable cassette player to listen to the new tapes through a bulky set of headphones that were fortuitously doubling as earmuffs, trying to get a head start on choosing and memorizing songs.

The main bar room was a flurry of activity. Hana stood on a tall stepladder, weaving strands of shiny silver garland through the trusses holding up the stage lighting. The garland was being fed from the topmost of six stacked plastic bins, with Ayako standing next to the pile ensuring the garland didn't tangle as it emerged from its plastic prison. Yui was furiously shaking her cocktail tin over her shoulder, behind an array of dozens of bottles of every shape and size scattered across the main bar counter. Behind the disorderly row of liquor bottles was an assortment of festively-decorated glasses containing liquids of varying colors and thicknesses, each with black plastic straws protruding from them. Unless she was in the kitchen, Mei did not seem to be present. An upbeat instrumental Christmas song thumped through the sound system.

Izumi waved to three of her friends, all women, who were huddled around table eight in the corner. One of them held aloft a hand-drawn poster advertising the last-minute Christmas concert to be held on Saturday night. "How's this look, Izzi?"

Izumi gave the girls a double-thumbs up. "That's looking great, girls! Good job! Can we do ten more just like it?"

Yui removed the mixing glass from her shaker tin, dipping a straw directly into the shaker rather than pouring its contents into a clean glass. She covered the end of the straw to create negative pressure, scooping a small sampling of the cocktail into her mouth. She smacked her lips loudly as she turned around, dumping the contents of her shaker into the sink. "Nope, way too tart. Let's try that one again."

Ranko looked around, taking in all of the commotion. "Wow! This came together fast!"

Izumi grinned, poking her sister playfully on the nose. "It's all for you, sis."

The younger girl blushed, tucking a stray strand of her red hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

Yui grinned up at the pair, finally having looked up from her mixology experimentation long enough to notice they had returned. "Hey, hey! What do you think, Izzi? Is our star ready to shine?"

Ranko's face took on more color yet, and she fidgeted with her hair some more, using it as an excuse to hide her face behind her hand.

Izumi, picking up on the young singer's discomfort, smiled reassuringly at Ranko and laid her arm over the shorter girl's shoulders. "She was born ready."

Yui gave a warm smile in response. "Damn straight. Oh, hey! Izzi, c'mere! You gotta try this!" She handed over a Collins glass filled with a thick white liquid. The outside of the glass was striped in a thin red ribbon, and a sprig of fresh peppermint floated at the top.

Izumi covered the top of the straw with her finger, lifting the straw to her mouth and releasing the pressure to free the liquid trapped within. A quiet mmm escaped her throat as she swallowed. "It tastes just like a candy cane! That's so freaking good, Yui!"

Noticing Ranko looking over with a curious expression in her eyes, Izumi reloaded the straw, holding it out to her. "Come on, kiddo. I won't tell if you don't."

Ranko grinned and stepped forward, and Izumi popped the straw past her lips and released her thumb. "Oh, wow. That really is good!"

Yui beamed, offering her sister a cocky smirk. "Did you honestly doubt me? I'm working on a gingerbread one and a spiked eggnog, but they're not quite right yet. I'll get 'em though; I've still got some time."

The young singer's eyes panned the room as she tried to make eye contact with everyone individually. They're all working so hard to put my idea together, in order to help Hana out. To help my family. Fuck, it feels so good to be a part of this.

Looking around, Izumi leaned over the counter. "Hey, Yui? Where's Mei hiding?"

The blonde shrugged, a perplexed expression on her face. "Your guess is as good as mine."

 

[AnneOminous]

It wasn't late. I still had, like, 9 minutes left in Saturday! Shaddup.

 

[AnneOminous]

"Said Santa to a pork chop, what have you a…"

Hana laughed, shaking her head and putting up her left hand. Her right, meanwhile, cradled her forehead in it. "Baby, baby…"

Ranko stopped singing mid-word, slumping her shoulders and growling low and loud in her frustration. "Damn it! I messed it up again, didn't I?!"

Her adoptive mother nodded. "It says boy child," she repeated in English, slower and more clearly enunciated than the lyrics had done. "Like, a little boy, like Hoshi."

The redhead sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow with a blue bar towel. Despite the late-morning December chill still lingering in the empty watering hole a few blocks from the Minato harbor, she'd been dancing under the bar's lone spotlight non-stop for hours. She had on a long-sleeved black turtleneck, a hand-me-down gift from Izumi after nearly freezing to death during their shopping trip two days ago. It clung tightly to her form. Below that, she wore her new black jeans and a pair of black heeled boots.

"I'm never gonna get this stuff in time! Maybe we should stick to Japanese songs." As she vented, she walked over to the karaoke station, pressing stop and ceasing the upbeat guitar blaring through the twelve ceiling-mounted box speakers that made up the bar's sound system. No lyrics appeared on the monitor, as they'd had to resort to regular cassettes, and so Ranko had nothing but her ear to try and mimic the unfamiliar English words.

"I don't know if there are enough Japanese Christmas songs, honey. Not popular ones, at least. But you can do it. You've already gotten four of them down, and we've still got a couple of days yet. C'mon, little star, sit down a minute. You haven't left that corner all day." Hana turned to look over her shoulder, calling back to the service bar. "Izzi, honey, bring your sister something to drink when you have a second, would you, please?" She pulled out a chair at the table closest to the stage for Ranko, physically guiding her to it by the shoulders.

Ranko sighed, nodding her thanks as Izumi handed her a pilsner glass full of soda. "It wouldn't be so bad if I could just keep everybody focused on the dancing, but there's no room to really do anything up there except wiggle in place." She gestured to the tiny triangular stage crammed into the corner of the bar against the back wall of the ladies' room. "I might almost be better off standing on one of the tables."

Hana flashed a knowing glance and a bit of a smirk in Izumi's direction as the brunette buzzed back to the service bar to resume stocking the back bar with liquor. "I mean, you wiggle with the best of 'em, baby." She chuckled deviously. "Maybe not so much in that top, though."

The redhead flushed deeply. "Mama!" She hid her face in her hand. "I think it shrank a little bit in the dryer. I feel awful; Izumi gave it to me and I messed it up the first day."

"It happens, honey. You gotta read the labels on stuff. I swear, half the stuff they make these days, you look at it funny and it just… poof!" Hana flared her fingers outwardly on both hands, miming an explosion. "Shit just evaporates! That's why it's tee shirts and jeans all day for me. No muss, no fuss."

Ranko scoffed, sipping from her soda glass. "Yeah, well, convince Izzi that I can dress like a biker on stage every night, and I'm in, too."

"Fat chance!" came a shout from the direction of the service bar.

The young singer giggled, shrugging at her mother. "What the hell, it was worth a tr…"

With a loud bang, the double doors at the front of the bar opened from the street, and Mei burst through them, tossing her purse on the counter. "So sorry I'm late, everybody. Time got away from me."

Yui grunted something in acknowledgement, but didn't seem very impressed with her sister's explanation. "For the fourth time this week," she grumbled as she shelved a bottle of bourbon.
Mei looked around, waving to Ranko as she took in the finished state of the bar's holiday decor. "It's looking really good in here!"

Yui scoffed, spinning a bottle of peppermint schnapps into her palm. "Nice of you to notice."

The blue-pigtailed girl rolled her eyes with a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, well… I guess I'm going to get the kitchen set up."

Ranko winced a bit at the tension building between her sisters.. "Here, Mei, let me come help?" Mei didn't react, instead just disappearing into the kitchen, and Ranko followed behind shortly thereafter, joining her at the prep counter in the small commercial kitchen. As Mei had already taken to preparing the batter for the chicken wings, Ranko began pouring flour and water into the steel bowl at the base of their countertop mixer, starting to get a batch of pizza dough prepared. "Hey, Mei… are you… okay?"

Mei growled under her breath in response. "Why is everybody asking me that all the time lately? I've just been busy, alright?"

The younger girl nodded quietly, approaching as non-threateningly as possible with her hands up at the level of her breasts. "Hey, it's cool. I'm not judgin' ya, sis. Just, ya know, if there's anything you want to talk about, you know I'm here, is all. Gods know you've been here for me; it's the least I can do."

Mei looked up from her plastic bin of flour and seasoning, managing a smile. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, hon. I just… I didn't wanna talk about it with Yui and everybody, especially while they've been so focused on getting ready for this show." She blushed a little bit, and her smile widened. "I've been seeing somebody."

Ranko gave a surprised little gasp, smiling as she rounded the prep counter across from her sister. "Well, that's great! I'm so happy for you! Tell me about him?" She flushed, realizing she'd never learned much about her sister's preferences in matters of romance. "Or her, I guess, if that's…"

The elder sighed dreamily, leaning forward on the metal counter between them over the large plastic tub. "My gods, Ranko, he's so handsome, and he's a good dresser, and the way he talks is so, I don't know, almost regal."

Ranko nodded as she added some paprika to the bin between them, rotating her wrist sideways in a please continue gesture with a little giggle.

"Gods, let's see… he's super popular, too. He's one of the top athletes at Shinagawa Academy. Like, he's set all kinds of famous records and stuff. Though, not as many, since he and his partner split up and he started competing solo."

The redhead looked up, confusion in her eyes. "Partner? What sport does he play? Tennis or something?"

"Believe it or not? Figure skating! You wouldn't think that would be so popular, especially compared to the more rough-and-tumble sports. But, ever since he started, he's only ever lost one match. I guess it doesn't matter what you do, they love you if you win!" Mei emitted a giddy little laugh as she reached for the oregano.

Ranko's face fell. Oh, no, she thought to herself. "Wh…what's his name?" Please be wrong, she thought. Please be wrong.

Mei smiled brightly, a far-off look in her starry eyes. She pronounced the name with almost reverence, as if she were speaking of a movie star or a king. "Mikado Sanzenin."

Ranko felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach, and the room started to spin a little bit. Not him. Not Sanzenin. Not here. Anything but that. Ryoga, Xian Pu, hell, Pop can find me here. I'll deal with it. But Sanzenin? After everything he took from me? Her mind flashed back to that day. Being lifted off her feet, restrained helplessly, and kissed. Taken. Violated. She looked up at Mei, still blissfully humming as she measured out spices for the fried chicken.

Can I tell her? Can I not?

A quiet "Oh." was all Ranko could get past her lips as she slumped onto one of the metal stools in front of the prep counter, her body limp as a sack of potatoes.

"Well, glad to see you're so excited, Ran-chan." Mei scoffed, flicking a fingerful of flour in Ranko's direction and leaving a few splotches of white on Ranko's black sweater.

Ranko did not seem amused by her antics, though, and her eyes had significantly clouded with a dark sadness in the space of a few heartbeats.

Mei waved her hand in front of the redhead's face. "Helloooo-o? Earth to Ranko! What got into you all of a sudden? I thought you were supposed to be Little Miss Holly Jolly today, anyway."

Ranko swallowed hard, reaching across the metal countertop for her sister's hand. The look in her eyes was deadly serious. "Mei, you… you shouldn't see this guy anymore."

The elder girl's demeanor changed instantly, the anger and frustration returning to her eyes. "Why not?! He's amazing, and he's actually interested in me. I mean, he asked me out; I didn't even have to chase him. He makes me feel special!"

Ranko sighed despondently. She couldn't tell her the truth. She wanted to, but doing so would admit what Mikado had done to her, and also tie a direct line back to her former life. She didn't imagine it would be that difficult to look up in the records to see just to whom the Golden Pair of figure skating had suffered their only defeat. At least, the victor's name wouldn't have been recorded as Ranko Tendo, but a photograph would be hard to deny.

"I just have a bad feeling about him, okay? Please, Mei… just trust me."

Mei slammed the plastic bin down on the counter, a cloud of flour poofing out at its sides. "You've never even met him!"

If only, Ranko thought to herself. "It's not like…"

"I've finally got somebody that's interested in me, who's not a total dirtbag and an addict, and all you can do is tell me not to see him?! Why can't you just be happy for me? Did I tell you to back off when you were floating on clouds about maybe dating a girl? Honestly, Ranko, I can't believe you!"

Ranko's eyes widened. Ouch. Low blow, sis. Fuck, how do I… "I… I just don't want to see you get hurt, okay?"

Mei roared at her in anger, rocking the redhead back in shock. "Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do!? After everything we've done for you?! You've barely been here a month, and all of a sudden you're everybody's perfect little princess! You've got the whole place revolving around you, and so excuse me if I found the last person left in Tokyo that isn't too busy worshiping you to notice anybody else!"

Ranko gasped, reaching out for her sister again. "Mei, I…"

The saloon door opened and Yui peeked inside, just as Mei thrust the clear plastic container forward with a furious scream, coating Ranko's face and sweater with flour and spices. "Just forget it! I'm out of here!" Mei threw her arm up at Yui over the countertop. "Go on, Ranko! Your adoring fans await!" The blue-haired young woman spun on the heels of her white tennis shoes and crashed through the steel back door with a loud bang, leaving it hanging halfway open as she turned to run down the alley toward the street.

"What in the actual hell was that about?" Yui made her way down the hallway, her heels making ominous clacking songs as they approached her coughing youngest sister.

Ranko coughed as she turned on her stool to face Yui, tears beginning to form in her right eye and streak through the thin dust of flour covering her face. She was crying so much more since she became a girl, and she didn't like it at all. I can't believe how quickly Mei turned on me. If only she knew what he did to me. What he tried to do to Akane. Who he really is. Mei was right to be angry, though. All I had to do was tell her, and I wasn't brave enough to open my damn mouth.

"She, um…" Ranko wiped her face with a scratchy brown paper towel, wincing as its rough texture scraped over her skin. "She's got a boyfriend."

Yui's stance softened a little, but her face wrinkled in perplexity. "That's what's got her so pissed off? She's… happy?! How's that happen, exactly?"

Ranko shook her head. "I've got a bad feeling about this guy, Yui. I tried to tell her, and…" She gestured to the open door.

Yui frowned, looking her sister over as if seeking some hidden information that might be written on her face somewhere. "Do you know something about him?"

Ranko swallowed hard, with an audible gulp Yui heard from a full meter away. All I have to do is say it, and… I just can't. He's a creeper, Yui. He hits girls and quits 'em. He takes without asking. He's an honorless scumbag. Akane and untold hundreds of people in that arena at Kolhotz High had seen how he shamed her. She couldn't bear one more person knowing, especially one who could carry that knowledge into her new life. I can't have Yui and all of them look at me like Pop, and even Nabiki and Kasumi, did once they found out. I can't stand the thought of them laughing at me. Mocking me. Looking at me with disgust in their eyes, like I'm some sort of…. She couldn't even bear to finish the thought in her mind, let alone give it voice. "It's just a feeling."

"You gotta be careful with stuff like that, Ranko! Clearly, she's really upset!" The blonde barkeep sighed, beginning to brush loose flour from the countertop into a nearby trash can with her hand.

Ranko nodded. "I know, and I feel terrible. I just don't want her to get hurt."

Yui stepped forward and put a hand on Ranko's shoulder, brushing some flour off of her black sweater onto the floor. "Sometimes, you gotta let people make their own decisions. Be there for them if things go bad, but don't go around assuming the worst and make them doubt the good things when they come. Besides, it's entirely possible you're wrong about this guy."

Ranko desperately wanted any hope to hold on to, for Mei's sake, that Yui might have a point. However frantically she searched her mind for it, she could find none.

 

[AnneOminous]

Akane walked briskly down the sidewalk, shivering from the cold. It was getting dark, and the December chill sliced through her school uniform like a naginata. She idly whistled the tune of Tatsuro Yamashita's Christmas Eve, smiling at the colored lights draped over the balcony railing of an apartment she passed. Man, that freaking song is everywhere this year. Those stupid train commercials, just every five freakin' minutes.

Pulling her black coat tighter around herself to guard against an icy gust, she smiled wistfully down at the Shakujii River, its water a dark snake cutting through a concrete channel opposite the chain-link fence to her left. So many times walking to school, Ranma ended up falling in there. Heck, half the time, I threw him in there myself. And out would pop… She felt her cheeks warm despite the chill in the air at the thought of the redheaded girl with whom she'd recently reconnected.

I wish I could call her. I can't risk calling the bar from home, but… maybe a payphone? She glanced down at her wristwatch, sighing in disappointment. Damn. It's almost six. They'll be opening any minute. She'll be too busy to talk, between her tables and singing. Akane smiled gently at the thought of her once-betrothed swaying on that tiny corner stage, beaming with joy and waving to the crowd. I wonder what Izumi's got her wearing tonight. She closed her eyes, breathing deep of the frigid December air and wrapping her arms around herself, imagining a slender redhead between them.

She giggled as she kicked a pebble along the sidewalk. Gods, what's gotten into me? When she was here with us, back when she was… when there was a chance, all I could think of most days was getting Dad to let me out of being stuck with Ranma Saotome. And now that she's a…

Akane turned her eyes to the southeast, staring up at the stars beginning to peek through the encroaching darkness. She half-expected to see spotlights dancing in the sky, beacons calling out to anyone who might follow them to a two-story brick building near the harbor, and within, the most beautiful thing in the Minato district. She bit her lip softly, shaking her head and turning back toward home. Ranko Tendo, what have you done to me?!

The high schooler sighed, turning her gaze from an office building. Both of the bushes flanking the walkway up to its front door were wrapped in colored lights and pocked with red and white glass balls. She was only with us for a year or two, but it already doesn't feel like Christmas around here without her.

Gods, I miss her.

---

Kasumi hummed to herself as she cleared the dinner table. Everything had been so peaceful at home lately, and she was glad for it, wrong though it felt sometimes. She felt terrible every time she allowed herself to associate the dramatic reduction in yelling, fighting, destroyed furniture, and general chaos permeating her home with the day that Ranma left. Of course, she missed Ranma, and still prayed often for his safety, wherever he might be. I hope he's at least found somewhere safe to spend the holidays, especially with the forecasts predicting more winter storms for the coming week, she fretted.

"Oh, Father? I forgot to ask you. What would you like me to make for dinner on Saturday? I'll need to go to the store tomorrow to make sure I have time to get everything ready."

Soun smiled up at his eldest daughter. She's becoming more and more the image of her mother every day, he thought with a proud sigh. "Whatever you think is best, Kasumi. I have every confidence in you."

Akane looked up from the television. "What's so special about Saturday?"

The Tendo patriarch chuckled, leaning over the table and reaching for his tea cup. "Well, Akane, as you know, the city council elections are early next year, and the mayor wants me to run again. More than that, though, he thinks I'd be well-suited to run for mayor myself, since he's retiring after his term ends. He's asked if he could come by for dinner and talk about it with me soon."

Akane grinned, turning excitedly to face her father from her cushion on the floor. "Wow, really, Dad? Mayor? That's great! I'm so proud of you!"

Soun chuckled, tamping down her enthusiasm with a downward wave of his hand. "Now, now, Akane, I haven't even decided if I'm going to run, let alone gotten any votes. But I have to admit, it's interesting, and we could certainly use the city salary since the dojo has been so quiet of late." He smiled happily at his girls. "I was actually hoping the three of you would all be here. I'd love to introduce the whole family to Mayor Dato."

His youngest daughter beamed, nodding emphatically. "Dad, that would be…"

Nabiki glared at her sister behind their father's back, making a throat-slitting gesture in her direction as she side-eyed the giant panda seated at the far end of the dining table. .

Akane blinked in surprise, but caught her sister's hint. "I… I don't know, Dad. Maybe? It's this Saturday, you said?"

Nabiki walked out from behind her father and sat on the tabletop, crossing her legs with her typical brash air. "I'm terribly sorry, Daddy, but Akane and I already have plans. The sorority I'm joining is going to have a lot of girls graduate this year, and they're hoping to recruit my little sister to replenish the ranks."

Akane shook her head in surprise, making a confused gesture to Nabiki out of her father's view. "Uh, yeah! Nabiki, crap, was that this Saturday? It slipped my mind. Could we maybe do dinner with the mayor Sunday instead, Dad?"

Soun stammered, glancing up at Kasumi. "Well, I suppose I could ask him. I mean, if you're both too busy for the mayor…" How is it that my youngest daughters have fuller social calendars than I do?

His middle daughter nodded, shrugging her shoulders in her father's direction. "You know how it is, Daddy. Availability is the price of popularity. That advice is free, but if you want me to help you manage your campaign, we'll have to come to some other arrangement." She smirked confidently, winking to her sister. Having captured Akane's attention, Nabiki hopped off the table to her feet and made her way to the stairway, ascending it and lingering in the hallway between her room and Akane's.

"Well, I'd better get upstairs! Lots of homework to do tonight! Thanks for dinner, Kasumi!" Akane stood, stretching her back and making for the stairs. As she reached the second floor landing, she rolled her eyes in her sister's direction, looking Nabiki over suspiciously. "Okay, Nabiki. Mind explaining why you just made me lie to our father and blow off the freaking mayor?! We don't have plans on Saturday night!"

Nabiki grinned deviously. "What are you talking about, little sister? Sure we do."

Akane growled, stomping her foot in her frustration. "What are you talking about?! I'm not going to some stupid sorority party! Who has the time for frivolous crap like that?"

The lithe brunette cackled in amusement. "Oh, Akane. I said we had plans. I didn't say we have the same plans." She reached into the pocket of the green puffy vest she wore over her orange sweater, pulling out a Polaroid photograph and waving it in the air. "But you do, in fact, have somewhere to be."

Akane groaned in exasperation. "Would you please just stop with the games?! I'm not going to pay you for your stupid picture, okay, Nabiki?! Just tell me what this is all about!"

Nabiki sneered in self-satisfaction, leaning her backside on the wall between her bedroom door and Akane's and nonchalantly crossing her ankles. "Oh, my dear little sister, there's no charge. Not this time. Let's call this one an early Christmas present." She handed Akane the photo. "I'll let Daddy know you'll be at the sorority house with me until morning." She winked with another mischievous smile, popping her back off of the wall and quickly slipping into her room, closing the door behind her.

Honestly! She's so smug about this kind of stuff! Akane turned over the Polaroid photo in her hand, her facial expression changing from fury, to confusion, and then to warmth. The picture depicted a chaotic jumble of colored papers on a college campus bulletin board. There were multiple flyers announcing that people were giving away old furniture. A yellow sheet with several tear-off tags at the bottom bearing the same phone number offered calculus tutoring. A black-and-white photocopied picture of a poorly-drawn demon in a stone archway was overlaid with text seeking people to play something called Dungeons and Dragons. A formal-looking scroll of nearly-packed kanji blared that the college's kendo team was holding open try-outs on December 23rd. And, at the dead center of the photo hung a hand-drawn advertisement promoting a special Christmas party and concert Saturday night at the Phoenix.

Akane's heart leapt with excitement. I might actually get to spend Christmas, or at least a little of it, with Ran… her! She hugged the photo tight to her chest, grinning up at the little duck dangling from a nail on Nabiki's closed bedroom door. Mercenary though she can be, when I least expect it, Nabiki can always find a way to surprise me with her kindness. You can try to hide it from the world, and let everybody think you're a heartless bitch, but… You're still my big sister, and you're always looking out for me. Thanks, Nabiki.

She slipped into her room, closing and locking her bedroom door and throwing open her voluminous closet. A real concert? Ranko?! I bet she's going to be amazing. She's gonna be perfect. Gods, what the hell am I gonna wear?!

 

[AnneOminous]

Ranko grumbled to herself, taking a long draught of her room-temperature tea. She wished she had some rocket fuel to pour into it. Between worrying for Mei's safety, her crushing sense of guilt at not being more forthcoming about her history with Mikado, and preparing for the concert to save the bar starting in just forty hours, she hadn't slept a wink in days. Mei hadn't come into work since her argument with Ranko, so the Phoenix had been short-staffed and more hectic than usual, to boot.

If this is a joke, Mama, I'm not laughing. This is ridiculous. Ranko's groan echoed in the empty bar room as she leaned forward on her stool, her elbows resting atop the main bar counter. Hana had instructed her to be up and dressed by 8:30 in the morning, though for what reason, she had not said. Still, Ranko was not about to disappoint her boss and benefactor, so she had done as she was told. She wore a businesslike blue blazer and matching pencil skirt over a cream-colored button-down shirt, all of which Izumi had brought for her the night before and insisted she wear for whatever the unknown occasion was. She hated the outfit; it was tight in the wrong places and itchy everywhere on her hypersensitive skin.

She heard a key in the front door lock and looked up as a stream of sunlight poured through the double doors. Ranko lifted her hand to shield her eyes as Hana stepped into the room, doffing her aviator sunglasses. At least, Ranko thought it was Hana. She barely recognized the old barkeep dressed as she was. Hana wore a pair of mid-gray nylon slacks and a matching suit jacket over a jewel-tone blue button-down blouse, the top button of her collar left open. Her short platform heels clacked loudly on the wooden floor of the empty bar, and her just-longer-than-shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair was held back with a series of barely-visible hairpins.

"You don't have to stare, you know," Hana said with a smirk down at her youngest ward.

Ranko shook her head, blinking the drowsiness from her eyes. "Oh! I'm sorry, Mama! I've just… never seen you dressed like that before! It works for you."

Hana nodded, an amused chuckle escaping her lips. "I can clean up when I have to, I just don't like to. Now, let's have a look at you." She walked in a half-circle around Ranko's bar stool. "I think that'll work, yeah. Not bad, kiddo."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I'm happy to please, not that I got much of a choice. Izumi didn't exactly make it sound like there was any room for debate on my wardrobe choices." Today, or basically ever, she thought with a slight flush of her cheeks. "So, when do I get to find out what we're actually doing at stupid-o-clock in the morning?"

Hana laughed heartily. "Tell you on the way. C'mon, you." She offered a hand to help Ranko off the stool. She had seen enough flight attendants and secretaries dismount the brown vinyl stools in pencil skirts to know that the transition could prove tricky even when one wasn't filled with bourbon at the moment.

The teen blushed furiously; the idea of being helped with such a basic maneuver owing to her clothing felt so feminine, and dependent, and weird. She'd reached a point where she didn't always hate it, but it was still a foreign experience for her.

Hana led her young charge out the front door, locking it behind them with her key. Following the Phoenix matriarch's lead, Ranko began walking in the direction of the train station. In a bid to amuse herself and take her mind off of her anxiety, she hopped up onto a long concrete seating ledge along the sidewalk, walking alongside Hana at eye level with the taller woman.

"Don't you think you should get down from there? What if you fall?" Hana smiled up at her martial artist daughter with a slightly disbelieving shake of her head.

Ranko smirked confidently in response. "Yeah, you're probably right." She hopped up from the seat of the long bench and continued walking, without breaking stride or slowing, along the top of the thin back rail of the bench instead.

The old barkeep rolled her eyes. "Okay, showoff, I get the idea. Now get down here before you hurt yourself."

The young lady, as she was being reminded to play the part of, stepped down next to her. "Yes, ma'am." Her father would have had a heart attack and died at the thought of his child following instructions from an elder without a fight – but then again, he had never tried actual respect in his dealings with her. "So… where are we going? What's with the fancy duds and everything?"

Hana smiled, disarmingly. "We're going to the library."

Ranko nearly face planted. "You… You got me dressed up like a secretary, and out here before the sun has had its friggin' coffee, to go stare at some dusty-ass books?!"

The older woman laughed, shaking her head. "Of course not, honey. We have a meeting."

Ranko blinked in confusion. "About what?"

"About you," came Hana's reply as she pulled open the glass door of the train station.

"Yeah? What does the freakin' library want with me, anyway?" Ranko looked legitimately confused. I've never known books to issue challenges before, but stranger things have happened in my life, I guess.

Hana dropped a pair of coins into the turnstile, leading Ranko through it and onto the train platform. "It's about your education."

The teen's mouth fell open incredulously. "Wait, what?! I'm not even in school anymore."

"I know. But we need to do something about that, young lady." Hana smiled reassuringly down at the teen, offering her a hand as Ranko stepped up onto the train.

Ranko shuddered with the memory of the night she left the Tendo home, staring up at Nabiki's old teal school pinafore. She couldn't… She wouldn't try to send me back to high school after everything, as a girl, would she?! There's gonna be questions, and stares, and probably some groupies, and girls who would expect me to know how to behave, and guys who… well, who don't know how to behave around girls. "But… I can't go back to school. I told you, I was so far back, it was ridiculous."

Hana patted her young charge's knee as they took their seats on the metro train. "I know, honey. Which is why we're going to do it another way. We're going to come up with a plan to get you caught up, and when you're ready, we will either get you enrolled in classes, or you'll take your equivalency exams and get your diploma. I promised you we would. The person we're meeting with today is an advisor who will help us get you on the right trajectory."

"But, I don't need school, or some test. I'm happy right where I am! Besides, you need me there to help with work stuff!" Ranko pouted, looking out the window as the Minato cityscape began to pick up speed zooming past.

Hana cocked her head. "Oh?! So you want to wait tables and have drunk guys grabbing at your ass for the rest of your life? What's your career plan beyond that?"

Ranko blushed in embarrassment. She really had no plan, and Hana knew it. There is one aspect of my job that I wouldn't hate making a career out of. I'd feel like an idiot even saying it out loud, though. That ain't ever gonna happen. With a defeated frown, she turned back to Hana. "I… I guess not."

"That's better. I don't want you to be scared about this, baby." Hana squeezed the redhead's hand tightly, giving it a reassuring little bounce in her lap. "You are behind through no fault of your own. None of this was your mistake, or your choice, and there isn't any shame in it. But we do need to fix it for you, little star. There's no time limit on this, either. We will help you every step of the way, and if we have to hire tutors to help you, we will find a way to do that, too."

Ranko blushed yet again. "I guess. I just don't know why it's such a big deal. I've been doin' okay so far."

Hana groaned in mock frustration. "Because you're a smart girl, Ranko, and you deserve better than slinging beer until you're forty. I want you to be able to do something you're proud of."

The redhead blinked, taking a moment to process what she'd heard. She didn't think anyone had ever called her smart before, and especially not a smart girl. She was learning to feel a little more comfortable every day in her new life, but hearing someone actually call her a girl out loud sometimes still made her feel as awkward and false as she did the first day she stepped out of that damned puddle in China. "Like… like what?"

Hana smiled, squeezing the teen's hand again. "Like literally anything you put your mind to, honey. I have every confidence that you can. We just need to help get you some of the tools you're missing so you can get there." She looked down into the young waitress' eyes with a sincere and serious expression. "I mean it, Ranko. I know your whole life was planned out for you before, and you didn't get an awful lot of say in the matter. I want you to know that you are allowed to dream for yourself now. Pick a dream, any dream, as long as it's yours and yours alone, and you can chase it. That's your right as a woman. And whatever you decide, we'll all be behind you and beside you the whole way."

My right… as a woman? To hear Pop talk about it, I didn't even get any rights as a dude. Ranko sighed at the mention of dreams. Hers hadn't been especially pleasant of late. "All of you? Even Mei?"

Hana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, even her. She's just being protective of her boyfriend. I don't know why you are so worried about him, but I'm sure you two will work it out. She loves you just like your other sisters do."

Ranko opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Why can't I just tell them? He hurt me. I stopped him from hurting me again, and hurting Akane. I won. So, why am I so damned ashamed? I could end this right now, and I'm too much of a fucking coward.

The overhead speaker chimed to indicate their stop, and Hana stood, Ranko behind her. "Come on, young lady. Let's go find you a dream."

Hana's young ward blushed and followed where she led. The pair exited the train station, crossing the street and entering the library building. Hana walked up to the circular oak receptionist desk, Ranko in tow. "Hello, good morning? My daughter and I have an appointment with Ryuki Kagawa, please?"

The young male receptionist began to search the appointment book, and Ranko just stood there, her head spinning as if she'd been hit in the face with a board.

D… daughter?! I've been calling Hana Mama on and off for a few weeks, just to show respect. Just like when Akane called the old freak 'Grandfather' Happosai. Being comfortable with the idea of being referred to as a girl, or a woman, is taking some getting used to, but I'm getting there. But… being someone's daughter?! Like, having someone who sees me as a girl, isn't disgusted by it, and actually wants to claim me? Up until the day I left the Tendos' place, six months after what happened on the mountain, Pop still called me my boy without fail. That Amazon witch left me a wound that will never heal, and Pop couldn't help but rub salt in it every chance he got.

After years of her father expressing disdain anytime she made any effort to make peace with her feminine half, and the constant warnings that her mother would disown her - or worse - if she ever suspected that her child displayed any feminine tendencies whatsoever, Ranko had always just taken as fact that there was a part of her that would never find acceptance. But there, in that moment, there was Hana, dressed up all professional and serious-like, telling someone that she was her daughter with a straight face. She wasn't embarrassed. There was no disgust or derisiveness. She actually sounded… proud?

Sure, it's not like there was a legal adoption, or even that she's even using what the government would consider my real name. But it doesn't even matter. I'm stuck as a girl, sure, but for the first time in my life, someone sees me like I am and… wants me anyway?!

The singular word - daughter - brought the gift of validation to the impossible hope with which she'd left the Tendo home: that despite how freakish the circumstances that had befallen her were, if she were only willing to leave the cursed and broken boy behind, that she just might get to live as just a normal, regular, totally non-weird person. Sure, that normal person spends most of her time in skirts now, but she doesn't have to spend it hiding from crazy Amazons, poisoned roses and razor gymnastics ribbons, exploding rocks, prose-slinging swordsmen and panty-thieving ghouls. She doesn't wake up daily to the reminders of what a disappointment she is to her family, she thought, her mind racing with possibilities. To Ranko, those few syllables meant acceptance, trust, pride, love, and so many other good feelings that she had been chasing hopelessly for years. At that moment, she doubted anything in the world could have made her happier than being a daughter.

"Miss Tendo? Ranko?"

Ranko shook her head to jog herself back into the moment, looking up into the eyes of a concerned-looking older woman in a frumpy floral dress.

"Are you all right, dear?" The kindly-looking old woman peered over the rims of her glasses at the young redhead.

Ranko blushed furiously. "Yes, ma'am, I'm so sorry. I… just didn't sleep much last night." She bowed respectfully. Twenty minutes ago, I was laughing this off, but now, even if the whole thing blows up in my face, no matter what I do, I can't embarrass Han… Mama… after she claimed me as her own. She rose from the bow, giving her most demure, sincere smile up at the administrator. This is about my family's honor now.

"Ah, to be young." The elderly woman smiled, motioning to Ranko and Hana to follow her to a small cubicle in the back corner of the administrative area of the library. "So, Ranko, your mother told me what she could about your educational history, but there are some pretty big gaps. In fact, we couldn't even find your birth records or family registry anywhere, let alone any school transcripts."

Ranko gulped. This is going to take some fancy dancing, she fretted as she took one of the two leather chairs across the desk from Ms. Kagawa. "Firstly, please understand that this is no fault of… Miss Hana's," Ranko began. "My father and I traveled constantly, from the time I was five or so, including a lot of time we spent out of the country. So, I missed a lot of time in school, my school records are hard to come by, and I honestly couldn't even tell you what city I was born in. But, my pop…"

She thought about how to handle the next part for a moment, finally grunting in resolution. At least in this version of the story, he'll get the blame he deserves. "My father abandoned me about nine months ago, and I was living on the street until Miss Hana took me in." She smiled reverently up into Hana's beaming eyes.

The old woman frowned. "My gods, you poor thing! And, what about your situation now? Are you alright? Is everything working out where you are now?"

Ranko smiled gratefully up and to her right again, where Hana listened to the story with riveted attention. I guess parts of this are news to her, too, Ranko realized. "Oh, yes, Miss Kagawa." She reached to her right, squeezing Hana's hand and trying to say with her eyes all that she could only summarize in words. "She has been the absolute best mother a girl could ask for. I am so incredibly lucky that she found me."

Hana smiled back, looking away after a long moment and lifting her fingertips to her left eye.

The administrator smiled. "That's wonderful to hear, sweetheart, and bless you, ma'am, for having the kindness to look after her like that. I would love to help you get back on track with all of this, but we're going to have to start from the beginning and try to get you some sort of identification. I can't even file the paperwork to get you started without it. You'll need to go to the Department of Family Services for that, and they're closed for holidays until the new year. If you have any family that you can still get in touch with and see if they have any of your records, that will make the process a whole lot easier. Otherwise, we will have to almost rebuild your identity from scratch!"

Ranko's face broke out in a broad grin. That's exactly what I want, and all I have to do to get it is… nothing.

Ms. Kagawa continued. "If we're unable to find your school records, that's an easier problem to solve. We can give you a placement test in a few weeks. Don't worry about studying for it; the intent is not to grade you, but only to see what areas you still need academic work on. Our agency can then put you in touch with tutors and provide textbooks and other curriculum support to help you catch up any skill sets or refresh things you may have forgotten after not using them for a while. When you think you're ready, we can either enroll you in school, or you can take another exam to demonstrate basic academic competencies. If you choose that route, once you pass that exam, you'll receive a certificate that is functionally equivalent to a high school diploma. You can use it for most colleges, job applications, or anything else you need."

The kindly woman flipped the page on her desk blotter calendar, peering ahead to the following month. "How about we do the placement exam on January twelfth? That'll give you a few weeks to get the identification paperwork sorted out, too."

Ranko looked up at Hana for confirmation, and receiving a nod, she smiled at the registrar. "Sounds great! Thank you so much!"

The gray-haired woman stood slowly and arthritically, giving Hana and Ranko a grandmotherly smile. "You are so welcome, sweetheart. It was truly an honor to meet you both. Have a wonderful holiday."

Ranko bowed politely. "You too!"

The pair exited the building, Ranko breathing a sigh of relief. That could have gone a lot more painfully than it did, she thought. I was so worried they'd accuse me or Hana of fraud or something, without having any documentation to back up anything we said. Especially because what documentation I did have didn't match a damn thing I said… which is why I burned all that shit weeks ago.

Hana looked down to the young redhead, hugging her about the shoulders with one arm. "Do you have any idea how proud of you I am?!"

Ranko stopped walking, turning to face her sincerely. "I… think so, even though I don't always understand why. But, I meant what I said back there. I promise, I'm never going to stop trying to be worthy of everything you have done for me. I'm never going to stop trying to earn your pride. When you called me your… daughter… Mama, I thought I was gonna cry."

Hana leaned down, kissing Ranko on the top of her head through her braided red hair. "Me too, honey. Me too."

 

[AnneOminous]

"Please watch your step while exiting the platform. Thank you." A merry little chime alerted Ranko and her mother to the opening of the automatic train doors, and the redhead rose to her feet.

Ranko winced slightly, the backs of her legs having uncomfortably stuck to the vinyl seats under the borrowed pencil skirt she wore. Ow. Stupid Cat's Tongue.
The two well-dressed women stepped off the train and onto the platform. Ranko looked around, sighing softly as she followed Hana clear of the platform and toward the main concourse. She noticed Hana checking her wristwatch, probably for the fourth or fifth time since they'd left the library. She got a hot date or something? Ranko wondered. Honestly, I can't believe she even set this meeting up right now; between getting ready for the concert, the holidays and everything, it just doesn't seem like the most important thing. Her concerted expression gave way to a blush.

Hana motioned to a little cafe nestled into the corner of the station, just beyond the ticket booth. "You hungry, kiddo? We could grab a quick bite if you want. I just know you didn't get up early enough for breakfast before getting ready so early."

Ranko shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm okay, but we can stop if you wanna." In reality, she hadn't been eating much the last few days. Between concert preparations and the impending threat of an encounter with Mikado Sanzenin, she'd been running on pure adrenaline for the better part of a week.

Hana nodded. "Yeah, I could go for a tamagoyaki." She meandered over toward the order window, making and paying for her selection, leaving Ranko leaning against the gray metal railing overlooking the tracks and watching the trains come in. The teen seemed deep in thought.

After a few moments, the owner of the Phoenix returned from the order window, a white paper tray of folded egg in her hand. Her youngest adopted daughter was not where Hana had left her, however. "Ranko?" She craned her neck, scanning the crowd for the telltale shock of red hair, but she did not spy it. Maybe she went to the bathroom?

Hana walked toward the restroom, waiting a moment, and when no one she recognized emerged, she looked around again. Her eye caught on a dark little alcove, off of the narrow corridor leading from the main concourse to the restrooms. Sticking out into the entranceway at about knee height was a familiar black chunky heel. Ranko? Hana crept to the entrance of the darkened nook, as quietly as she could in her own heels. There, she found the young redhead, curled up in almost the fetal position on a slatted bamboo bench opposite a pair of dusty, inoperative vending machines that had been stored in the disused space. "There you are, little star. You disappeared on me."

The redhead nodded, sitting up on the bench and scooting over to one side to make room for her. "Sorry, Mama. I was just…" She shrugged, deciding the rest of her sentence was unimportant and not worth finishing.

Hana sat next to her daughter, offering her a bite of tamagoyaki with her wooden chopsticks. Ranko shook her head in polite declination, so Hana popped it into her mouth, speaking as she chewed. "What are you doing, hiding in here? You okay, kiddo? What's buggin' ya?"

Ranko frowned, looking down in shame at her hands. "Sorry. I was just thinking." She brushed a fleck of dust from the navy skirt she'd borrowed from Izumi. "I… used to sleep here sometimes, if it was too cold outside or it was raining or something."

The elder woman frowned, looking around the bleak little corner of the train station with a new perspective. "You're never going to have to do anything like that again, honey. You're never going to be alone again. Look at me." She waited for Ranko's eyes to lift to meet hers before continuing. "I mean it. I promise, Ranko."

Hana set her tray of food down on the bench at her right hip, turning on the seat to face her young ward. "Hey, you know you can talk to me, right?" Hana rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "C'mon. What's going on in there? I know you've got a lot on your plate right now with the show, this new exam thing, and whatever's happening between you and Mei."

Ranko sighed. The situation with Mei and Mikado was eating her up, not only with worry over Mei getting hurt, but with her own memories of her assailant being dredged up. If I tell them, and they pressure Mei to break it off with him, it'll be like I'm asking them to trust me over her. Mei already thinks I'm getting favoritism from them. It'll just make things worse and push her further away from me. Why can't I just… why can't I admit what he did to me? Why can't I be brave enough? She looked up into Hana's eyes again. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

Hana's shoulders slumped as she swallowed a bite of egg. "Hey. Knock that off now. C'mon." She reached out, stroking the teen's flame-red hair. "All of us are a mess, baby. You, me, all your sisters, hell, most people in the world. I'd take it all away from you if I could. Every single thing that's hurting you, or scaring you, or haunting you. But, I'm also grateful for the fact that one day, you woke up on this bench, and decided to make your life better. One day, you got up off of this bench and wandered into my bar looking for a job." She cupped her hand around Ranko's cheek. "And because you did - because you made that choice to look for something better - I got to meet my incredible little girl."

The redhead threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around Hana and squeezing her around the midsection. "Thank you. For the… for… thank you."

The old barkeep smiled, stroking her child's hair and putting her arm over her back. "Oh, Ranko, honey, you're so welcome." As she turned her body into the hug, she knocked her half-eaten tray of tamagoyaki to the floor. Whatever. I really wasn't all that hungry anyway; I was just trying to kill a little time. But, it should be late enough now, I think. "C'mon, precious. You about ready to get out of here, and go home?"

Ranko sat up, putting on a bright smile that was only slightly betrayed by her welling eyes. She did have plenty of reasons to smile, she realized, even when the reasons not to were the ones currently dominating her thoughts. "You bet!"

---

Hana slid her key into the lock of the glass door painted with her name, fumbling with it clumsily for a moment before turning it in the lock and pushing the door open. She held it open for her daughter.

As Ranko entered the main bar area of the Phoenix, she noticed that the aluminum stepladder and some of the other tools they'd used while decorating had been pulled out again. Maybe Ayako found some more decorations to put up? No, that's not it... She realized she no longer heard the attract music loop coming from the Pac-Man arcade machine in the back. Did it break? Mei's gonna have a conniption.

Hana stopped walking near the main bar counter, just watching the young redhead from behind with an excited smile. I wonder how long it'll take her to notice what changed, she thought as she pulled off her blazer and hung it over the back of a bar stool.

As Ranko approached the little alcove, she stopped suddenly. The arcade machine was completely gone, and so was the purple-felted billiards table. In their place were three six-top tables and chairs. They perfectly matched the ones that filled the rest of the bar, but Ranko had been through every centimeter of the bar she called home, and she knew they had no spares. The tables had to have been moved from somewhere. She looked back to the main room, counting the rows. Four, five, six, sev… no! The seventh row of tables is missing! Why? The lights in the back half of the room were turned off, so she hadn't noticed the change at first. She strode to the wall by the service bar and reached out for the light switch. When she flicked it, she gasped quietly as her eyes found the reason for the rearrangement.

The little triangular corner stage with the karaoke machine - her home for the last two months - had been entirely replaced. In place of it, a raised wooden platform now stretched the entire length of the back wall that separated the main bar room from the ladies' restroom. The platform was almost breast-high to Ranko, where the previous didn't even reach her knees, and there were three steps recessed into the right side to ascend it. Two of the large speakers that had previously been propped in the corner so the music could be heard over the arcade machine had been relocated, one on either side of the stage facing into the room from new mounts near the ceiling. Off to one side, near where the arcade machine had been, a small booth had been erected, and all of the sound and lighting control equipment had been moved into it. "What is… how…"

The entire front edge of the stage was lined in silver garland, and two large plastic candy canes stood bookending the stage in the back. The posters that had adorned the back wall were gone, leaving a clean backdrop of oak paneling. On the left side of the stage, in the very corner, stood a small, sparsely-but-tastefully decorated Christmas tree.

She stepped up the stairs, and she heard a loud mechanical clunk of a breaker being flipped. The Christmas tree lit up. The colored lights that used to flash patterns on the walls when the music played had been repositioned, pointing up at the center of the platform, where a simple pine stool and a microphone stand waited. The stool also had some silver garland weaved through its legs, and a few red baubles hung from it. Ranko covered her open mouth, taking another step forward. Resting on the stool was a single red rose, with a red ribbon tied around its stem bearing a small paper tag in the shape of a heart. She turned it in the beams of light to read it. Three immaculately calligraphed characters adorned the tag. They read, for our star.

"Surprise!"

Ranko turned, and found Yui and Izumi popping up from their hiding positions behind the bar. Both were wearing denim overalls smudged with dirt and wood stain, and Izumi's hair was tied back in a tight bun.

"You… you guys! You did this?"

Yui nodded. "Mm-hmm. Just barely finished in time, too. Mama was supposed to keep you out for another hour or so." The blonde rolled her eyes at Hana with a playful smirk of mock judgement.

Hana sighed in exaggerated defeat, shrugging her shoulders with a smirk. "The meeting didn't take as long as I expected, and I ran out of excuses, Sorry, girls."

Ranko looked out over the room from her raised vantage point atop her new stage platform, her jaw still slack in disbelief of what had been done for her. "But, how? We couldn't afford this…"

Yui pointed to the equipment as she spoke. "The lights, speakers, all of that stuff, we already had, we just had to move 'em."

Izumi grinned. "As for the stage itself, well, I guess it's a good thing one of us is marrying a building contractor in a couple months, huh? Kaito built everything. He had to run, but he says he loves ya."

"Girls, I… I don't know what to say. It's beautiful. I just… I can't believe you did this. Thank you so much." Ranko walked up to Yui, then Izumi, and then Hana, hugging them each in turn. "I'll… I'll be able to dance now!"

Hana smiled, wrapping her arms around Yui's shoulders on her left, and Izumi's on her right. "You deserve it."

Ranko bit her lip. On one hand, she was absolutely floored with the surprise and the consideration that had been paid to doing it for her at all. On the other hand, it broke her heart that Mei wasn't there, and she worried that the girls having made such a grand gesture without her input would only add fuel to her jealousy.

Hana looked around at the ladder and other remnants of the construction effort. "Well, since we're here early, we might as well help get this cleaned up."

"Of course." Ranko nodded and started moving toward the pile of tools.

Izumi stopped her with a gentle palm to her sternum, however. "Not in my favorite suit, you're not. Go get changed, silly."

Ranko blushed, looking down at her businesslike attire. "You got it!" She turned and rushed up the stairs.

---

Having changed into a pair of black jeans and a cherry red tee shirt bearing the bar's trapezoidal firebird logo across its chest, Ranko emerged from her little apartment. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail secured with a short length of white satin ribbon, and she wore a bright smile. They built me a stage. They're trying to build me… a life. She had nearly reached the base of the steps leading down into the hallway separating the kitchen from the front of the house when she heard raised voices.

"Look, we're doing a concert to try to save this place. It's kind of important! We had to make it look decent. We've all been working our asses off getting ready. You'd know that if you'd been around at all!"

Is that Yui? What's got her so upset? Better hang back. Ranko paused in the hallway, listening to the conversation to determine if it was safe to come out.

The second voice was definitely Mei's. "Well, excuse me, Yui, for finally having a life and not wanting to be here seven days a week until I die, like you!"

Yui's voice responded, sharpened but not to the level of yelling. "Yeah, but you could have told us if you needed time. You just haven't shown up, and left us short-handed while we're trying to put this whole thing together and get out of this jam."

Mei scoffed. "I honestly didn't think you'd miss me all that much, considering you had Princess Diva here to pick up the slack. I swear, it's like you girls forgot I exist!"

Izumi growled in frustration from the direction of the kitchen. "Mei, of course we were going to have to focus on her! She's new. She's scared. She needs us! ALL of us! Did you hear me lose my shit when you showed up, and I wasn't the baby anymore?! Mama slept on the floor next to your bed for a fucking month, trying to keep you clean and get you through detox, and not one of us complained for a fucking second! We're all holding that poor kid together with our bare fucking hands, and we could really use your help, Mei!"

Ranko backed up on the stairs, careful not to make a sound. It's even worse than I thought. I'm… hurting them, just by being here.

"It's bad enough that she's taking over everything about this place, but then when I go try to find a little happiness for myself and let her have it, she has to shit all over that, too! Telling me how I shouldn't be going out with Mikado. Doesn't she have enough people here to kiss her ass? Does she really need all four of us to have our heads up her ass every night, or could I maybe get the occasional night off to have a life?!"

Tell her, Ranko. Walk down those last eight steps, right now, look her in the face and tell her. You're dating a creep. A pervert. A predator. Maybe I could say it like it happened to someone else. Just someone I know. Ranko shook her head. One look at my face and they'd know I was lying. They're too perceptive for that, especially Mama. She hung her head, shaking it slightly. You're right to be angry with me, Mei. Not because I'm a jerk. Because I'm a coward.

"That's enough!" Hana snapped, her voice coming from the direction of her office. "Look, I know you were the youngest here for a long time, and that it can be hard when someone new starts getting attention. But you know what a mess that girl was when she got here. She needed us. She still needs us. All of us. She misses you something terrible, Mei. Besides, she's killing herself, trying to put this place on her back and get us out of trouble. She's been here barely a month, and she's carrying this family, and this is how you treat her?! I'm disappointed, Mei."

"Oh, I'm sure her throngs of adoring fans will stroke her ego just fine!" Mei growled, and Ranko could hear the slam of what sounded like an aluminum tray being thrown. "Don't worry. I'll be here to help tonight, so nobody needs to cry about having to pour a few extra drinks. Oh, and by the way, not that anyone's all that interested, but Mikado's coming by for a while tonight with a couple of his friends. Ya know, just in case my family cares at all about meeting my boyfriend. I'm not really holding my breath, though."

Ranko gasped, and it felt like the world had begun spinning. She slumped against the wall of the narrow staircase, trying not to make a sound and tip her family off to her eavesdropping. That jerk, here?! In the only safe place I've ever known? What, so he can humiliate me again? I've finally got some people in my life who respect me, and… She swallowed hard. Go tell them. Walk down the stairs. Tell her. Before he destroys us both.

She stared at her feet, willing them to move, but they would not.

Hana sighed, and Ranko held her breath as she watched her adoptive mother pass the staircase to join Mei in the kitchen. "We didn't stop loving you just because we started loving Ranko. We never will. We're not going to run out of love, baby. There's enough for everyone. You're always going to be part of this family, no matter how much it grows. Of course we want to meet Mikado. All of us do."

Ranko ran back up the stairs, grateful she'd passed on Hana's offer of breakfast. There would be less to throw up.

 

[AnneOminous]

This chapter contains depictions of attempted assault and extreme violence. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Ranko waved to the assembled patrons from her new stage platform with a pang of guilt, taking a shallow bow. I'm sorry, guys. You're not getting my best tonight. I've just… I've got more important things on my mind than pop music right now. Wherever she went in the room, her eyes were never far off from the table in the far corner by the front door, where Mikado Sanzenin and his two hangers-on: both slender but athletic men in their own right, sat. She might not have had experience with dating guys, but she knew danger when she saw it, especially when it sat in her home with a bottomless pitcher of sake.

I can't believe he hasn't even recognized me. I'm up here singing and dancing like a freakin' idol thirty meters from his table; it's not like I'm going stealth. Did… Did what he did to me mean so little to him that he doesn't even fucking remember me? Was it that casual for him, the way he got inside my head and filled it with fucking demons?!

When Ranko's gaze wasn't on Mikado, it was on his girlfriend. Mei still hadn't had much to say to her in days. It's not her fault, Ranko reminded herself as she stepped down from the stage. She doesn't know, and it's entirely my fault she doesn't know. Singing for two hundred strangers, I can do without a second thought, but having a conversation with my big sister and letting her know she's in danger… that, I'm not brave enough for. Some fucking big, bad martial artist I turned out to be. I'm not even sure she'd believe me if I did tell her, not with how hooked on him she is, and how pissed at me she is.

She glared up at table one, digging her pink-polished acrylic fingernails into her palm and wincing at the pain. I'm just glad Mei sat him in her section. If I had to bring that piece of shit a drink, I'd probably spit in it. Her stomach rolled at the realization that thundered through her mind. It wouldn't even be the first time he's tasted my spit.

The redhead rushed between her tables, doing her best to keep them happy while reserving herself as much time as possible. There was just one problem with that – the more popular Ranko's singing had become, the less interested the crowd had become in entertaining themselves with karaoke. Whether she had asked for it or not, the newly-expanded stage had become almost her exclusive domain, and the customers got restless when it wasn't filled. She almost didn't have time to serve tables between songs some nights, and the current shift was one of them.

She had barely dropped off a tray full of empty mugs when some of the more inebriated revelers at the few tables closest to the stage began cheering loudly, willing the platform spanning the length of the ladies' room at the back of the bar to come to life again. Ranko rolled her eyes at Yui, who could only wave her back toward the stage. With an exasperated sigh and a pitiful glance by way of apology at Izumi, who was frantically trying to cover the torrent of drink orders her two youngest sisters kept bringing her at the service bar, Ranko closed the distance to the raised platform and hopped up the three steps to take her place, picking up her handheld microphone from its stand. The hundreds of sparkly white rhinestones Izumi had glued to its once-smooth handle bit into her hand, and she squeezed it tight, letting the discomfort in her hypersensitive palm help her focus.

"Tell you what, why don't you guys pick the next song?" Ranko did her best to smile, and the crowd began shouting a cacophony of song titles at her. Hearing one louder voice call out a Japanese pop song she knew by heart, she pointed to the guy who named it. "Yeah, let's do One Night in Heaven! You guys know it, right?" Most of the crowd whooped in the affirmative; the song was new, and it had been getting a lot of play on the radio for the last few weeks. Ranko jogged down the stairs to the karaoke station in the booth where the Pac-Man machine once stood. She leaned over the monitor, pulling up the song and beginning the backing track. The Phoenix' songstress-in-residence hurried back up to the stage, grateful that the song's long instrumental intro gave her a few moments to take her position before the lyrics began to change color on the monitor.

As she finished the first verse, she looked up and spied Mei leaning on Mikado's table talking with him and his friends. Shaking her head slightly and trying to blend it into her choreography, she admonished herself. Mei doesn't want you looking after her, and you have a job to do, she thought to herself before launching into the chorus with a bit more effort. The crowd jubilantly sang along as Ranko gestured with her hands, waving both of them at shoulder height as she'd seen the two members of Wink do in the song's music video.

The songstress' eyes flashed throughout the room, trying her best to make eye contact with everybody at least once. The couple at table fourteen were going to need refills after the song. Table eighteen had put their menus down; they were likely ready to order. The girl in the green shirt at the bar had probably reached the point at which she shouldn't be served any more alcohol, and the creepy guy sitting next to her had definitely noticed her incapacitation. Yui was catching up on drink orders, Izumi was running the dishwasher, Hana had disappeared back into her office, and Mei was… nowhere to be found.

Almost forgetting to begin the next chorus on time, Ranko searched the darkened room frantically. Sanzenin's still in his seat, so everything's probably okay, but where's Mei? Searching the bar back area, she caught a glimpse of the trash can behind Izumi, which was missing its bag. She must have gone out back to toss it. Okay. She breathed a sigh of relief – but a short-lived one, because from the corner of her eye, she caught movement from the table at the back. Mikado made a gesture to his friends that anyone who had ever spent time with - or in the case of Ranko, as - a guy recognized as an indication that he was about to do something he wanted his friends to watch. He stood, heading out the glass double doors at the front of the bar and turning left, toward the alley. This doesn't smell right at all, Ranko thought.

The song was coming to a close, and all that remained was one more repetition of the couplets that made up the song's extended chorus. Thinking on her feet, Ranko waved to the crowd excitedly with a bright, if forced, smile. "Hey! You know the words! Let's hear you!" She pointed the microphone toward the crowd, and the exuberant audience got the hint, with a full sixty or so of the bar patrons beginning to sing the lyrics over the steel guitar backing track. As soon as her point had been made, Ranko tossed the scintillating microphone to a middle-aged woman standing near the stage and leapt down, leaving the revelers to finish the song on their own.

Ranko hopped down from the stage without taking the stairs and began pushing her way through the crowd toward the bar.

Yui looked at the young singer crossly as Ranko nearly threw a flight attendant out of her path. "Ranko! The song's not even over! What the hell are you doing?!"

Unable to get around a fat, balding man blocking the gap between the main and service bar counters, Ranko vaulted over the main bar with one hand. She did not especially care if the college coed perched on the closest stool got more of a show than she bargained for under Ranko's short black dress. She crashed through the slatted blue saloon door without answering Yui, rushing to the back door.

If I'm wrong about this, Mei will never forgive her, but if I'm right, and I don't act, I'll never forgive myself, Ranko resolved. It took her about two steps to make up her mind, and as she approached the door, which stood partially ajar admitting the frigid December air into the commercial kitchen, she knew she had chosen correctly.

"Mikado, what are you... Hey, stop that! I said stop!" Mei's voice echoed in the chill air of the alleyway.

Ranko slid through the door sideways without touching it, and found Mikado pinning Mei against the red brick wall of the drug store next door to the Phoenix at the far side of the alley. His left hand was holding both of her wrists above her head, and his right was beginning to make its way up her knee-length denim skirt.

Mei turned her face away from him and fought to break free, but the athlete's powerful grip was too much for her. Her urgent pleas quickly devolved into a desperate whine without discernible words.

"What's the matter, Mei?" Mikado chuckled darkly, toying with his prey. "I thought you liked m… urk!"

One moment, Mikado's face was centimeters from Mei's, and the next, it just… wasn't. It took Mei a moment to reorient, and as she did, she found Mikado lying on his back on the snow-covered asphalt.

Ranko, meanwhile, was rising from a sweeping crouch a half-meter or so behind him. Mei was almost afraid to look at her. They hadn't spoken in days, and now, forget the light dusting of snow covering the gravel of the alley – the fury in Ranko's eyes would have melted steel.

"Mei, you okay?" Ranko's eyes did not leave the prone antagonist as she spoke. "C'mere."

Mei pushed herself off from the wall, giving Mikado a wide berth as she circumnavigated him to reach Ranko's side. Though they didn't touch, Mei could hear in Ranko's breathing that she was shivering; the combination of a light snow, the Full Body Cat's Tongue pressure point, and the thin black minidress she wore was taking its toll on her, not to mention the tidal wave of adrenaline coursing through her.

Mikado stumbled to his feet, and Ranko leveled her arm in front of Mei, pulling her a step back and dropping into a defensive taekwondo stance between the two.

Mei grabbed at her arm. "Ranko, you can't! I told you, he's won hundreds of fights, and only lost one!"

Ranko smirked darkly, staring through her adversary. She wanted to watch him panic. It was high time he experienced what fear felt like. "Yeah, I know. Who do you think was the one that beat him?"

Look at me, you son of a bitch. Ranko sneered, tightening her stance. Remember me? I think you're gonna find I'm a little bit different than your average girl.

Mikado rocked on his feet with the realization. "No… It can't be… it is! It is you!" He smirked rakishly. "This night just keeps getting better! Back for more, finally? Just couldn't stay away, I suppose? No need to be jealous; you'll get your turn."

Mei opened her mouth to speak, but Ranko's voice broke the silence first. "Mei, get inside." She spoke through gritted teeth, a darkness roiling in her unyielding stare. How dare he condescend to me, after everything! Tonight, Ranko swore to herself, you're gonna pay. Not only for what you tried to do to Mei, but for what you did to me on that ice.

Ranko's every muscle was tensed to its maximum, pleading for permission to erupt in righteous fury. She ignored the icy tear streaking its way down her cheek, willing her eyes to produce no more. You're gonna pay for every single fucking time you've hurt me in my dreams. You've violated me over and over again, and it ends now. For the first time since the Phoenix Pill was destroyed, she did not fear being struck. She didn't care how much he hurt her, as long as she hurt him more.

She adjusted her stance slightly, bringing her arms more to her sides almost casually. Mei did not move, but Ranko's focus was now singular, and she spat her words in a voice icier than the December air at the nightmare made flesh in the alley in front of her. "I told you last time - if you ever laid your hands on me or someone I love again..." She no longer seemed to feel the cold.

Mikado laughed dismissively. "We'll see about that!" He rushed forward two steps, cocking his right fist back and launching it at Ranko's chest.

She did not move until a split second before his punch struck home, and then at lightning speed, both of her arms pivoted forward from her sides toward his arm, parallel to the ground with her left arm just in front of her right. Her right hand caught his wrist first, thrusting it harmlessly past her body to her left. Her left palm jammed into his elbow from the opposite direction with all the force she could bring to bear, and the alleyway echoed with a snap and a scream.

Ranko spun into a roundhouse kick to his chest that shoved her opponent back a step, and Mei gasped audibly at the sight of the supposedly invincible athlete's right arm now dangling limply at his side, bent the wrong way in the middle.

"You… you bitch! You broke my fucking arm!" Mikado roared.

Ranko nodded, finding a vengeful satisfaction in his wailing. "One bone down..."

She swept her left leg behind herself, low to the ground, and took a crouched pu bu kung fu stance, inverted to account for her left-handedness with her right leg and arm extended and her left arm poised behind her.

"Two hundred and five to go."

That's right, Ranko thought with a satisfied sneer, reveling in the fear in his eyes. My name is Ranko Tendo, and I'm the demon in your nightmares now. You'll never forget me again. She lifted her extended right arm, curling her fingers and beckoning mockingly in his direction.

With any semblance of strategy lost to his rage and the loss of his dominant arm, Mikado roared in fury and rushed her wildly. For a split second, Ranko had considered letting him off with just the one injury. Unfortunately for Mikado, that second was now over, and worse still, he had badly misjudged the momentum of his charge. Ranko knew that all of Mikado's martial arts experience and muscle memory involved fighting on frictionless ice, but on solid ground, the advantage was hers.

The lithe redhead easily sidestepped his charge, sweeping at his legs. Mikado stumbled forward, crashing headlong into the brick back wall of the Phoenix. Before he could turn to face her, he felt a sharp kick as Ranko dug her heel into his lower back, driving him forward against the bricks.

"How's it feel when you're the one being put up against a wall, bitch?!" Ranko jeered as she twisted her ankle, eliciting a grunt of pain from the figure skater.

"There!"

Ranko turned her head at the sound of voices, finding Mikado's two friends from the bar approaching from the direction of the Phoenix' front door. One wore a blue polo shirt, the other a green sweater, and both were in jeans. Okay, guys. You get one chance.

"He had it comin', guys." She shrugged, still pinning Mikado to the wall with her leg, her knee locked straight. "Do yourselves a favor. Walk away."

"Get her!"

Ranko smirked, pulling back her leg and driving her knee into Mikado's back and ignoring the two men charging her down the length of the alley. "Gotta say, you've downgraded from hiding behind Azusa. These guys are way stupider. Stay here a second, wouldja, Mikado?" As she spoke, she reached out with her hand, squeezing the skater's broken elbow and eliciting a loud scream. It still echoed through the alleyway as the girl in the black minidress turned to face her new challengers.

"Mei, get inside. Right now."

Ranko cracked her knuckles as Mei slipped through the back door and into the warmth of the Phoenix kitchen. "Well, okay, boys. If that's how you want it, who's first?" She dropped into a taekwondo back stance, her right leg and arm extended forward and her left arm cocked behind her with an open, upturned palm. For the first time since the Full-Body Cat's Tongue had been inflicted, she felt a sense of confidence in a fight. Can't get too cocky, though, she reminded herself. These guys may be nothin', but one good hit and I'm pretty fucked, and it's three against one.

The man in the sweater reached her first, and Ranko leapt forward into a kick toward his face. The assailant, the taller of the two, caught her ankle in both hands, gripping it tight. "Gotcha!"

Ranko grinned. "Yep! Thanks for the boost!" She propelled herself forward on her standing right leg, spinning upward and using his grip on her leg as leverage. Twisting in the air, she whipped her right leg around. His grip on her ankle released as the toe of her black leather boot crashed into his cheek. He fell to the gravel in a heap, and Ranko's momentum carried her toward the wall of the drug store next to the Phoenix. She landed in a crouch, glaring up at the man in the polo shirt who closed on her at a dead run.

Wait for it… wait for it… Ranko rose to a standing position, taking no fighting stance at all. When her opponent was less than two meters from her, she reached casually to her left, lowering a metal lever with a heavy clunk. The steel ladder for the drug store's fire escape slid down on its track punctuated by a loud squeak, crashing loudly to the gravel. The redheaded martial artist took a step backward, letting the charging thug slam face-first into the ladder.

Mikado's hanger-on had already started reaching for her when the narrow ladder dropped in front of him, and his right arm protruded between two of its rungs. Ranko grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward and slamming him into the ladder again at the chest. She ducked below his arm, still pinning him to the ladder with it, and delivered a series of three quick punches to his ribs. She only released his arm when she saw his sweatered friend approaching in her peripheral vision.

"Man, you guys just don't learn, do ya?" Ranko grabbed the side of the ladder, jumping and using the torque of her grip to add to the momentum of her horizontal motion. Again, her boot slammed into the young blond's cheek, sending him sprawling to the ground close to his friend.

After a quick glance behind her to ensure that Mikado was not rejoining the fight, she squared off against his two accomplices. "Guys, it's Christmas, so I'm gonna give you a present. Just this once." She raised her right leg until her knee was at waist height, holding her right arm forward and her left over and behind her head in a crane kung fu stance.

"Run."

The two men looked at each other, seeming to confer wordlessly about their plan of action. Nodding to each other, they turned and fled back toward the main street. "Sorry, Mikado!" the one in the sweater yelled as they turned the corner toward the harbor.

"That's ri — gyaaaa!" Having watched the pair until they reached the end of the alley to ensure they didn't turn back toward the front door of the Phoenix, Ranko had taken her eyes off of Mikado too long. She cried out as her hypersensitive scalp screamed with agony as Mikado yanked her beribboned red ponytail backward with his left hand, bending her backward until she was looking up at him and holding her hair tight in his grip.

Mikado sneered, his face lowering closer to hers. "You're good. I'll give you that. But now, about that kiss…"

No. No. Nonononononono… not again. Flashes of memories flooded her mind in an instant. A crowded arena. The stunned, pitied look on Akane's face. Her father's laughter when she went to him for advice. Fight. Fight it, she begged herself as the torrent of resurfaced trauma drowned out her thoughts.

"Get off of me!" Ranko threw her right fist out to her side, driving it up into his crotch.

Mikado released her hair, staggering backward with a pained grunt.

Ranko rose to a standing position, shaking her head. The avalanche of memories droned like alarm bells in her mind, and she wanted them gone.

I have to focus. It's time to finish this.

She cocked her fists in front of herself, her elbows tucked close to her chest, dragging her left heel through the gravel and bending her knees, weaving slightly on her feet in a muay thai southpaw stance.

"You want your kiss, Mikado? Come and get it."

I've learned a few new tricks since the last time we met, Ranko thought darkly. A little parting gift from the Amazons. She took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly as she replayed Koh Lon's instructions from a year ago in her mind.

Don't aim. Strike whatever's in front of you.

Don't defend. Your opponent will be too overwhelmed to attack.

Mikado rushed forward toward his prey.

Ranko did not move a muscle. Her eyes were almost glazed over, as if she were drunk.

Clear your mind. Thoughts make you slow.

Don't think. Just move.

She crouched slightly, and as he charged into her range, she drove upward into his ribs with a blisteringly fast punch, and another, and another, the blows crashing into him like an incessant hailstorm. Each strike rocked him on his feet, but they came so quickly that he could not regain his balance between them to defend himself.

Her mind was devoid of all conscious thought. Her hands moved autonomically, raining blow after blow upon her opponent. She did not know if each strike hit an arm, or a face, or a chest. She did not care. Every strike hit something, and the next invariably landed before Mikado could react. The memory of every tear Ranko had shed alone in the dark, every second of shame she had felt, and every mocking word she had endured because of Mikado Sanzenin became a spear that she fired into his torso with the force of a ballista and the speed of the deadly Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique.

Having cut herself off conscious thought - the key to unlocking the speed of the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique - also denied her the will required to block the unconscious memories that resumed pouring into her brain unchecked. Her mind's eyes flashed with images of that night. Of the arena. Of a kiss. Of Ryoga's mocking. Of Akane's horror. Of crying. So, so much crying. She was no longer conscious of her surroundings. She did not feel the cold or the crunch of snow-dusted gravel under her feet. She did not hear the wind. She did not smell the full dumpster a few meters away. She did not see her fists move, and was barely aware of their meeting resistance when they struck home.

She thought she heard a sound, like a voice, but garbled, as if it were underwater. She did not process it. In the void of her mind, she was seconds from being trapped in Mikado Sanzenin's arms again. She heard another sound, distant, muffled, like someone shouting into a pillow. It blended into the cacophony of cackling and catcalls that echoed in her memory. His arms were closing in.

Ranko's fists continued launching forward with the speed of a machine gun, entirely on their own. Her right arm encountered a sudden, unexpected resistance, jarring her out of her memories. The distant voice rang out again, clearly enough to comprehend this time.

"RANKO! PLEASE! STOP!"

She turned her head, blinking, to find Hana standing behind her. The elder woman's feet were firmly planted on the ground, and she had both of her arms wrapped tight around Ranko's elbow, which was still raised above her head with her hand balled into a fist. A sound echoed through the alleyway, sounding eerily like a scream in Ranko's own voice, but Ranko didn't remember making one.

She turned her head slowly back in the direction of her other arm, her eyes an empty glaze. Her elbow was locked with her arm straight, her fist clenched around the collar of a silver polo shirt. Crumpled on his knees with his head hanging limply to the side, Mikado was barely conscious. His face was swollen and bruised everywhere. One of his eyes looked up at her, unblinking and glazed, and the other was swollen shut. Blood dripped from his nose and upper lip.

"He's had enough! Let him go!" Hana pleaded, trying to pull the slender teen back toward the bar.

Blinking through the horrified expression on her face, Ranko unclenched her fingers, and Mikado slumped to the gravel with a thud and a pained groan.