Ranko glanced up at the clock. Every night since her birthday, she’d done at least two songs on stage, trying to get the early and the late crowd. At Yui’s suggestion, she made it a point not to sing at the same time each night, so that people had to stay - and drink - longer if they wanted to catch a show. Her last song had been about two hours ago, so she figured she’d do one last round of her tables and then head up. Since Sunday, Mei hadn’t even had to corner her to get her to go on stage anymore.
Word of mouth had reached a stage where most people entering the bar knew there was a singer who performed there, and that it was the redheaded waitress, so she frequently got asked at her tables when she would be singing next. She leaned into it as she made her rounds, asking her guests, “so, hey, I’m about to hop up on stage for a few minutes, do any of you need anything before I go?” Most of her patrons responded enthusiastically, but there was one table with two really grumpy guys at it that just didn’t seem terribly talkative. They were both huge, jock looking types, and she figured they were just angry drunks.
She looked herself over in the mirror behind the bar. She was wearing a black velvet choker, a birthday gift from Mei, and her bracelet from Yui. She had on a knee-length denim pleated skirt and an orange blouse with a little more revealing of a neckline than she was used to. As the need to up her costume game had become apparent, Izumi had started bringing outfits from home every day to dress her in. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and Mei had helpfully added a white ribbon tied in a large bow around it.
In the last few days, she’d pre-selected the songs she would sing, so she had a bit more time to prepare – usually involving watching the music videos to pick up on any mannerisms she wanted to bring to the performance. Ranko hopped up on stage, giving Mei a “cue it up” gesture and began to dive into a harder-edged rock song. As usual, the crowd was enthusiastic to cheer and sing along, with the exception of the two sour guys in the back. Finishing the song, she made her rounds again, refilling drinks and signing more than one autograph this time.
She approached the table with the rude guys last. Still, she was trying to win them over. When she got there, one of the men had left the table, presumably to hit the restroom. She leaned down to shout over the sound system. “Hey there, can I get you or your friend anything else?”
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The massive man glowered up at her. “Sure, I’ll take a kiss.”
Ranko shook her head, attempting to deflect as she always did. “Maybe next time?”
The brute reached up quickly, wrapping his fingers around Ranko’s choker and twisting it, cutting off her airflow. “No, how about now?” She gasped, dropping her tray to the ground with a loud crash. She flailed at him to try and disengage, only mildly aware of the frightened shrieks from the other bargoers, but his arms were much longer than hers and with his elbow locked, she couldn’t reach him. The man stood, dragging Ranko by the neck as he did. “Yeah, I heard about you and what you did to my friends the other day. Not so tough now, are you, bitch?” He grabbed at her shirt with his other hand, tearing it partially open at the neckline. The crowd began to stampede away from the altercation. Ranko thought she heard Mei scream her name at the periphery of her consciousness, which was beginning to fade as her oxygen supply diminished.
She swung desperately for the man’s face again, and as she did, the second man crashed into her from behind. He restrained her left arm, but his momentum knocked her forward enough that she could reach her assailant with her right, and she threw a punch at his face with lightning speed. Her fist connected, but the mountain of a man was barely fazed. At least he lost his grip on her necklace. She coughed and sputtered, trying to orient herself. He raised his arm, swinging for Ranko’s face. She tried to dodge, but the room was still spinning and she could not get her bearings in time. The back of his hand struck her square across her cheek with a loud smack and she staggered back a step, her face exploding in pain. As she did, her foot made contact with the puddle of frozen margarita that had spilled when her tray had fallen, and her shoe slipped out from under her, sending her reeling backward.
With a loud thud, the back of her head struck the pine bar top. Her body continued to fall between two vacant stools, and there came a hollow ringing of metal as her temple made contact with the brass foot rail at the bottom of the bar. She looked up with bleary eyes at her attacker’s face as he approached. In the space between conscious and not, her nightmares flooded into her mind accompanied by the ringing bells in her skull. This was everything she’d ever feared since Mikado, brought to life just when she was finding her stride. She thought she heard what sounded like television static, and caught a glimpse of white smoke, but before she could identify the source, the world faded to black.