Ranko stiffened as she heard the knock on her apartment door. She was still a little jumpy after the night before. She exhaled heavily, calming herself. “Come in.” She heard the door open behind her, but did not turn to face it.

She sat on the bed, facing the mirror on the closet door. She was wearing the green velvet dress with the white faux fur trim that Izumi had picked for her, accessorized with white lace stockings that came up to the middle of her calves and matching white lace gloves with tiny satin bows at the back of the wrists, as well as her silver dragon bracelet. Her hair hung in a braided pigtail, but Izumi had weaved a white ribbon into it, giving it the red-and-white swirled appearance of a candy cane. Her fingernails were painted in an alternating red and green, and she wore a full face of makeup, in large part to hide the puffiness under her eyes that would have betrayed how much crying she had done the night before. A Santa hat in a matching green velvet sat on the bed beside her, and she was struggling to clasp a necklace behind her back.

“I’m almost done, honest. I’ll be down in just a few minutes.”

“So, I understand it’s tradition that the leading lady gets flowers in her dressing room before the big show.”

Ranko swiveled on the bed, her eyes brightening immediately at the familiar voice. “Akane! You came!” Her once-fiancee stood in her doorway in a white turtleneck sweater and a long, heavy red skirt, holding a vase containing a dozen white roses. It was good to see her. It had been a hard few days, and Ranko needed a little cheering up. “How did you even know we were doing this tonight?”

Akane set the vase on Ranko’s little dining table, reaching into the pocket of her corduroy skirt and pulling out a Polaroid photograph, holding it up so Ranko could see. “The Nabiki News Network.”

Ranko giggled a little at that. “Well, tell her thank you for me. I’m so glad you came.”

Ranko stood to join her at the table, and Akane looked her over from head to toe. “You look…”

The redhead sighed. “Ridiculous, I know. Don’t blame me, Izzi picked it out.”

Akane shook her head, grinning. “I was going to say cute. Really cute, actually.”

The songstress blushed deeply, biting her lip a little bit. As strange as it was to enjoy being called cute, it also made her feel guilty for all the times she’d said the opposite to Akane. She’d never realized how much it must have hurt her. “I, umm.. I’m glad you approve,” she said with a coy smile.

Akane motioned to the bed. “Do you need some help with your necklace?” She reached out, taking Ranko’s right hand without waiting for affirmation, giving it a playful squeeze as she started to pull her toward the bed. She looked up in surprise and concern when her once-fiance let out a sharp yelp. Akane turned back to her with concern in her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

Ranko exhaled through her teeth. “Nothing, I’m okay.”

Akane looked her over. “You know, I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re lying.” She reached up Ranko’s wrist, hooking her finger around the wrist of the lace glove on her hand and pulling it off. She gasped at what she saw. All four of Ranko’s knuckles were swollen and her fingers were bruised black and blue. “My gods, what happened? Were you in a fight?”

The redhead snatched her glove back up off the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She could not go down this rabbit hole now, not right before she went on stage.

“But.. are you okay?”

Ranko nodded, a light tinkling sound coming from the small silver jingle bells that dangled from her earlobes. “I’m fine. You should see the other guy.” Ranko legitimately did not know if the “other guy” was even still alive. She wasn’t entirely sure if she hoped so.

Akane put on a smile, taking Ranko’s lead that it wasn’t the best time to talk about whatever happened to her hand, but she made a mental note to ask about it after the show. She reached out with one finger, poking one of Ranko’s earrings and listening to it ring out. “Well, at least you can’t sneak up on anybody.” She bit her tongue. She was going to say the bells jingling when Ranko moved reminded her of a cat she once had, but she wasn’t sure invoking that particular mammal in present company was the best of ideas.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Well, come here, you.” She scooped up the necklace, a white lace choker with a little silver heart dangling from it. “Turn around, let me see?” Ranko complied, and she felt Akane drape her arms over her shoulders. There was a brief tension on the choker as Akane pulled it back to manipulate the clasp. “There, all done!”

Ranko spun around in place, finding herself face-to-face with Akane, the shorter girl’s arms still wrapped around her neck. She blushed furiously, flashing a shying smile. “I, ah, um… thanks, Akane.”

Akane blushed as well. “Ahh… well, I… I know you’re going to do great tonight.” She pulled her arms back quickly.

The performer smiled. “I hope so. We’ve got a lot riding on this tonight. I’ll tell Izzi to save you a seat up front.”

Akane waved her off. “Yui already took care of it.”

“Well, that’s good. Hopefully, it’s busy enough that you need the reservation. We really need a big night tonight.” Her eyes bore a nervousness Akane wasn’t used to seeing on Ranma’s face, but, Akane reminded herself, it was no longer Ranma to whom she was speaking.

Akane grinned. She really didn’t know. “Um, Ran-chan…” She was still struggling to get used to Ranko’s new name, and Ukyo’s old nickname for her seemed a reasonable compromise. “You haven’t looked out your window, have you?” Checking herself over in the mirror one last time, Ranko shook her head, another little jingle punctuating her response.

Akane waved her over. “Come here a sec.” She pulled the thin curtain to the side, exposing the apartment to the orange glow of the setting sun, and the street behind the bar. The songstress padded over in her lace stockings to join Akane, and her eyes widened as she took in the scene. There was a line three and four people wide all the way around the building, despite the light snowfall. Many were dressed for a classy date, not a typical night out at a bar.

Ranko gasped. “All those people…”

Akane smiled in proud reassurance. “Are here for you, superstar. You about ready?”

She shook her head, her earrings jingling. “As I’m gonna be.” She bent down and reached under the bed, picking up a shoebox and tucking it under her arm, opening the door and heading downstairs with Akane in tow.

Ranko walked up to the saloon doors but dared not exit yet, peeking over them at the activity. The tables had all been removed, and a crowd more than double the bar’s usual capacity were standing shoulder-to-shoulder waiting for the show to begin. Izumi was running drinks frantically through the crowd to customers, and Ranko wished she could help, but Hana had forbidden her from doing anything other than performing tonight. Yui, meanwhile, was cranking out drinks and seeming to have a blast doing it, in part because Ayako had come in to help tend bar as well. The two of them worked alongside each other with a fluidity that could only come from years of synergy. Hana pushed past Ranko, grabbing another few pizzas for hungry revelers.

Mei came out of the kitchen to meet Ranko at the foot of the steps, a sheepish look on her face. She was wearing a purple jewel tone blouse and a black knee-length skirt. Ranko turned behind herself. “Akane, would you mind giving me and Mei a minute?” Akane shook her head and took a few steps back up the staircase, and Ranko followed Mei back into the kitchen.

“Ranko, I…”

The redhead nodded. “I know. It’s okay.”

Mei frowned guiltily. “No, it’s not. I owe you so much more than an apology and a thank you, for everything. And besides, I didn’t even work with you to put together a setlist for tonight. So you’ll be winging it in front of all these people, and it’s my fault.”

Ranko placed the shoebox on the counter, putting her hands on Mei’s shoulders. “First of all, Mei. You don’t owe me anything. You wanted to believe in somebody even when people were telling you not to, just like Hana did for all of us. If you ask me, that’s brave, even if it didn’t work out this time. I should have told you the truth about my history with Mikado. I just… I guess I couldn’t bear to admit what he did to me, either. I was ashamed, and I didn’t want you and the others to pity me. But that was my fault, not yours.” She slid the shoebox across the counter. “And the show is handled.”

Mei blinked, opening the shoebox. Inside were a series of cassette tapes in plastic cases, lined up in a row and numbered. Each was queued up to exactly the place it needed to be started from, and on top of the tapes were several hand-written pages of notebook paper on which Ranko had scripted (and done multiple drafts judging by the number of scratch-outs) the entire show, all the way down to lighting changes.

“Oh! Wait! Last minute change!” Ranko grabbed a pen from the counter, drawing an arrow into the third song slot and moving two tapes in the box. “Trust me.”

Mei nodded her head. “I’ve got to tell you, I’m impressed! You did a great job with this!”

Ranko smiled proudly. “I hope so. They’re the ones who really need to think so.” She motioned over her shoulder at the front of the house.

Mei grinned. “What say we go find out?”