Ranko paced nervously, waiting for the word.
Mei gasped. “Sheesh, there’s gotta be three hundred people out there!” She closed the curtains, looking back at the redhead, who still stalked back and forth across the stained pine floor. “We should start selling tickets!”
Ranko blushed. “We’re selling twice as many drinks already.” She wore a form-fitting mauve sweater with a large red heart embroidered on the front, and a black pleated miniskirt. Determined to prove to Yui that her balance was fully restored, she’d opted to brave a pair of sleek black ankle boots with 6-centimeter heels. The distinctive clack they made on the floor echoed through the empty room like a ticking clock as she paced.
Izumi smiled back at her sisters. “Everybody ready?”
Ranko took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I think so.”
Yui and Mei nodded assent, and Izumi unlocked the door and stepped out into the cold. “Hey everybody! Who’s ready for a show?”
A roar erupted from the assembled line. “Let us in already, it’s freezing out here,” one guy yelled from the back of the line.
Izumi smiled, stepping out of the doorway and holding the door open. “Let’s go, then!” The group began streaming into the establishment, Izumi struggling to keep count as they did.
By the time the bar had filled, Izumi had to turn the last fifty or so people away. Most opted to stay in line until someone else left. Izumi slipped into the bar, starting to get people sorted into booths and tables. The bar was lined four deep all the way around, and Mei and Yui were frantic to fill drink orders. Somewhere at the back, beyond Izumi’s sight in the sea of revelers, Ranko was also directing traffic. Izumi saw a large group of eight college-aged tweens enter together, directing them to the largest booth in the front corner. It was furthest from the stage, but with that many people, Ranko wouldn’t have time to serve them all effectively, so Izumi felt that it was best to seat them in her section.
It took nearly a half an hour to get most of the bar served and settled. They made no announcement, but as soon as the house lights dropped, the crowd roared in excitement. Ranko took the stage, smiling brightly and waving to the crowd. She’d donned a pair of pink-rimmed sunglasses - a recent addition during her light-sensitive performances, but she kind of liked them. The bass brought the crowd to its feet, and she moved effortlessly across the stage, mimicking the movements of another popular idol group as she performed a rendition of their newest hit. She spared no effort to deliver a high-energy performance; after a week under wraps, she was eager to prove to the crowd - and to her coworkers - that she was back at full strength.
The whole place shook with applause when the song ended, and Ranko hopped down from the stage with a wave to make another round with her serving tray. She took a new round of orders from four of her tables, stacking some twenty empty glasses on her tray. She took a few steps and saw an orange peel that had been discarded on the floor from one of their cocktail garnishes. She set her tray down on top of a trash can, lifting her leg and bent down to pick it up before someone slipped. She knew full well how dangerous slipping and falling in here could be. As she did, she caught motion out of the corner of her eye. She turned, seeing her tray and the mountain of glasses it carried falling to the floor. Reflexively, she lunged forward with the incredible speed only she could muster, catching each glass and restoring it to the tray. As she started to set the tray down, she heard someone clear her throat behind her and a familiar female voice spoke.
“Busted. Hello, Ranma.”
Ranko froze. No. This couldn’t happen. Not here. Not now. She turned her head tentatively, praying to be wrong. She was not. “Uh, Hey, Nabiki. Wha..what brings you here?” She instinctively tried to cover her outfit with her hands, not that it did much good.
Nabiki scoffed in irritation, putting her hands on her hips. “I am a college freshman. I’m supposed to be hanging out in bars. But you? Where the hell have you been all these months?! We’ve all been worried sick about you!”
Ranko cringed. “Please, keep your voice down.”
Nabiki put her hands on her hips judgmentally. “What’s the matter, Ranko? Afraid everyone will find out you’ve been lying to them all this time?”
Ranko’s eyes flashed and she looked up with irritation. “I’m not lying.”
Nabiki nodded, pursing her lips. “So everyone here knows you’re really a boy, then?”
Ranko looked down at her hands in shame. It had been days since she’d even thought about her old life. She said something, in the most timid, quiet voice imaginable, easily drowned out by the karaoke performance on the stage.
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you!”
Ranko gritted her teeth. Even though she’d accepted it, she’d never really had to say it out loud before. “I said, I’m not a boy. Not anymore.”
Izumi walked toward the pair, tray in hand. “Ranko, who’s…”
The redhead cut her off. “Uh, yes ma’am, the bathroom is right around the corner there to your right. Thank you.” Once Izumi had passed, Ranko took Nabiki by the wrist. “Come on. We can’t talk here.”
Nabiki glowered. “Hey! Let me go!”
Ranko pulled her through the side door by the pool table into the back room and pushed her toward the stairs. “Go on.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Nabiki opened the door into Ranko’s bedroom. The unmade bed with its purple duvet cover was half-covered with dresses, outfits Ranko had gone through while deciding what to wear tonight. Ranko closed the door behind them, leaning on it as if to keep the world out for a few more minutes.
Nabiki turned on her, pointing a finger in her face. “Honestly, Ranma, where do you get off doing this? Just walking out on us in the middle of the night like that? You could have been dead under a bridge for all we knew, and you’re here, in some bar in Tokyo, slinging shots in high heels? What the hell are you thinking?”
“Please, Nabiki, sit down?” She offered Nabiki one of her dining table chairs before sitting on the bed facing it. The brunette complied, after some additional coaxing. Ranko sighed shamefully. She’d been dreading this conversation for some time, but she’d honestly hoped it would never come. “Look. I don’t expect you to understand. But, look at me. This is what I am now, and it’s not gonna change. I didn’t ask for this, but it happened, and I had to make peace with it somehow. But I couldn’t do that with everybody at your house wondering when or if some Chinese fairy dust was gonna show up and make it so I could marry Akane. She deserved better than waiting for me forever, and having to explain why she was engaged to a girl. She deserved more than the parade of whacko guys and crazy girls showin’ up and wreckin’ your house every three days because of me.”
Nabiki’s eyes flashed with anger. “And don’t you think she deserved to make that choice for herself?”
Ranko nodded sadly. “You’re probably right. But you know she never would’ve. Akane’s too stubborn for that.”
Nabiki shook her head. “So were you, once.”
Ranko sighed. “I was a lot of things, once.” She put her feet on her bed and hugged her knees. “How is she?”
Nabiki groaned. “Not like you care, but she’s been a mess since you left.”
Ranko rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I gave it a week after I left before Ryoga made his move.”
Nabiki nodded. “Oh, he did. He finally managed to find his balls and told Akane how he felt about her. He told her he’d do absolutely anything to make her happy.”
Ranko laughed. “Typical Hibiki, all that blustery chivalry. So what did she ask for?” Nabiki stomped her foot on the floor.
“It’s not funny, Ranma! You want to know what she asked Ryoga for? Alright, I’ll tell you! She asked him to find you!”
Ranko gasped. “Oh, that’s not fair. He’ll be looking for forty years just trying to find a payphone.” She felt bad for him. She knew he’d do as he said, that he’d never stop looking for her. The only thing worse than his never finding her, was the day he did.
Nabiki stood, her anger rising. “Of course it’s not fair! But you obviously didn’t care about what was fair for anybody except yourself when you skipped off to… whatever the hell this is. How could you do this? How could you not at least send us a letter to let us know you were all right? What the hell is the matter with you, Ranma?”
Nabiki was surprised to see that she did not retaliate. Instead, the redhead shrank under Nabiki’s tirade. She squeezed her knees tighter, trying to will the sound not to enter her ears. She shuddered slightly. This was… unexpected. Nabiki’s voice softened, taking on a slight note of concern. “Ranma?”
A mousey voice trickled out from behind Ranko’s legs. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Why wouldn’t I? That’s your name.” Ranko unburied her head from her knees, and Nabiki was stunned to see that she was crying. Ranma would never have let me, or anyone, see him cry. He’s way too macho for that. What the hell is this?
“Not anymore, Nabiki. Don’t you get it? Ranma Saotome is dead. He’s dead! That Amazon witch killed him. I’m all that’s left. And you and Akane and Pop and everybody kept standing around waiting for me to shrug it off and step back into a life that wasn’t mine anymore. I’m sorry I did what I did, okay?! I am. It was selfish and stupid, I know, and believe me, I’ve paid for it. I don’t expect you to understand.
“But I’m not sorry for where I ended up. These people treat me with love and respect. In their eyes, I can be a girl - be a woman - and not be seen as something less than I used to be. Like there’s something wrong with me. Is that what I wanted? Of course not. But it’s the best I’m going to get, and for the first time in my life I am trying to make the best of it for me - not what Pop and every girl in Nerima has planned for me, but what I want for myself. If I couldn’t have my old life anymore, I thought I deserved a chance to try to make a new one that I could actually live with. And you know what? I’m doing better than that. I can’t believe it, I swear. I thought I’d be miserable every second of my life if I had to live this way, but I had no choice but to give myself a chance. And now, here I sit, in a skirt and heels, wearing makeup, and somehow I’m actually happy, for the first time I can remember.”
She looked up, making eye contact with the brown-haired specter of a past she’d almost managed to bury. “You have the power to go downstairs right now, say just a couple of words to the girls behind the bar, and destroy all that for me. I’m begging you not to. Please, Nabiki.”
Ranko flinched as a loud knock came at the door, followed by a voice. “Oi, Ranko, you okay, little sister? We’ve got your next song queued up whenever you’re ready.”
Nabiki blinked. Sister? What the hell kind of bar was this? Ranko sniffled her tears up and wiped her puffy eyes. “I’m okay, Yui. I’ll be right down.” She looked up at Nabiki, who was still coming to terms with all of this, and all she could add was another desperate “please?”
Nabiki wanted to be furious with Ranma. She wanted to beat his head in with a frying pan for what he had done to her sister. For the months of worry. For the nights she and Kasumi had to hold Akane while she cried. Ranma Saotome absolutely, positively deserved to be clobbered into next week. But this… girl? She didn’t know who this person was, but it was not Ranma in any discernible way beyond physical appearance. The brash, egotistical, uncaring jerk she’d come up the stairs intending to berate was nowhere to be found, and in his place was a fragile, terrified, remorseful, and beautiful young woman.
She sighed with exasperation and defeat, throwing her hands up. “Come here.”
Ranko looked at her, fear in her eyes. “Why, what are you going to do?”
Nabiki popped open the little clasp on her purse. “With all this crying, you fucked up your makeup. You can’t go on stage looking like that.”
Ranko blushed, trying again to dry her eyes, and Nabiki began dabbing a soft pad on her cheeks. “So, what exactly am I supposed to tell Akane when I get home?”
Ranko pulled back and looked up at her sincerely. “You can’t tell her anything. She can’t find out where I am. Nobody can.”
Nabiki shook her head. “Come on, Ranm… Sorry. You know I can’t keep this from her. So give me something I can say.”
Ranko sighed. “Tell her I’m okay and I’m in a good place. Tell her I have people who care about me. And... tell her I’m sorry.”