Ranko did her best to smile, humming alongside Emi and Hitomi. She hadn’t seen Takao yet today, and hoped not to. She’d promised Yui she wouldn’t accept his ultimatum, and while she was relieved beyond measure to no longer be dreading doing so, she wasn’t looking forward to having to look him in the eyes and tell him no, either.

“Not bad, girls. Not bad.” Katsuo sat back on his stool, looking them over with a smile. His group of background dancers was coming together fairly well, and he’d even gotten the new girl to follow directions regarding her hair and other elements of her appearance. He was quite pleased with himself indeed.

“Ranko, let’s put a little more wiggle in it, huh? I want to see flirty.”

And I want to see you bleed out through your eye sockets, she thought as she smiled in response.

The choreographer checked his watch. “Well, girls, what say we break for lunch? Be back here in an hour?” A little cheer rose from Hitomi, and she hopped down off the platform, the loose boards rattling loudly.

Ranko stepped cautiously into the narrow plywood hallway. Reaching the far end, she looked into the band rehearsal room. Fortunately, Takao was nowhere to be found. Her eyes locked on the door beyond, she stepped forward, and walked face-first into something solid. She stepped back and blushed furiously. “Oh! Hey, Crash!”

The tall guitarist grinned down at her. “Well, fancy running into you here.” He laughed. “Literally.” He tousled his hair, looking her over. “Is this the group uniform they picked for you? It’s cute.”

Ranko blushed. “Yeah, I guess. A little showy for my tastes, but they say that’s the biz.”

Crash crinkled his face a little. “Naah, I’ve seen worse. You on a break?” She nodded, her pigtails tickling her shoulders. “Well, let me grab a smoke real quick, and then why don’t we see if we can scare up something to eat together?”

She smiled sincerely. This whole place felt like a jungle full of predators, and it was good to have a friend. “I’d like that, Crash.”

The young man stepped out the back door to the smoking patio where she’d met him, and Ranko walked over to watch his bandmates while she waited. She closed her eyes, imagining herself on a stage with her band behind her, a cheering crowd in front of her, and Akane backstage to greet her. They were playing an upbeat pop song, and the crowd was singing along, tens of thousands of them, enough to fill a whole stadium. She thought about what Yui had said – that they would find a way to make it happen, no matter what. She really hoped her sister knew what she was talking about.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by a voice over her shoulder. “Hello, Ranko.”

She turned, looking up into the mirrored sunglasses of Takao Tashima, and swallowed hard. “Uh, hey, Takao.”

The executive grinned down at her hungrily. “Rehearsals going good today?”

Ranko forced a smile. “Yeah, we’re humming harmonies now, so that’s something.”

Takao nodded. “Right on, right on. Given any more thought to my offer from Friday?” He motioned to her, leading her into a smaller room where some excess instruments were stored to give them a little privacy.

The teen winced, and nodded. So, this is happening, ready or not. She supposed it could only have been a matter of time, and it was better to get it over with rather than dread it for days. “Yeah, Takao, about that.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

She bit her lip. She wanted to tell him to jump in a lake, ideally, one filled with piranhas and acid and lasers and shit. The level of diplomacy with which she had to mitigate her response to his advances disgusted her. She didn’t know how girls without martial arts and meditation discipline did it, but she had certainly cultivated yet another newfound appreciation for how hard it was to exist while being a woman.

“I’m… not sure it would be appropriate. I’m… I’m seeing somebody.”

Takao laughed dismissively. “Oh, that’s fine. I didn’t mean like that. Just, ya know, some coaching, maybe a little dinner. There might be some candles involved.”

She rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Takao, I said no.” Whatever was going to happen, the die was cast now.

She had started to turn away from him when she felt his hand on her bare left leg, just under the hem of her skirt. “Hey, come on now. Don’t be like that.”

Ranko gritted her teeth. “Please take your hands off of me.” Her body shook with anger, but she restrained herself, trying to think of all the unwanted advances she’d endured at the bar. She’d contained herself then, and she could now, too.

Takao reached forward, his right hand landing on her other thigh, and took a step closer to her from behind. “Whoa, easy there, tiger! No need to get your panties in a bunch. We’re all friends here, right?”

She closed her eyes, but somehow still saw red. Every instinct in her called for her to turn around and dropkick the jerk through the ceiling. She knew it was within her power to do it. She could break him, just like she had Mikado. Just like the last guy who thought her body was his for the taking. She had the strength. She had the skill. The only thing that stopped her was… everything else. But, something had to be done nonetheless.

She reached down and behind herself, taking hold of his left wrist and wrenching it slightly, turning to face him as she did. “I said, take your hands off of me.” She twisted his arm a few degrees further, smiling at him as she did. “Please.”

Takao growled in pain and surprise. Nobody had ever stood up to him like this. Nobody had ever dared. Doesn’t this impudent little tart know who I am? I am Takao Tashima, maker of stars! Well, maker of the girls who are grateful to stand behind the stars and have their pictures hanging over the bed of every thirteen-year-old boy in Japan, anyway.

He glared down at her, gritting his teeth. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, girl?”

Ranko scoffed angrily, twisting his arm a bit more. He was not taking the hint. “Just another creep who’s too busy staring at my ass to realize he’s being one.”

So focused was she on staring unblinkingly into his face that she didn’t notice his right hand move until the back of it came crashing into her cheek. The impact felt like being struck by a loose board in a typhoon, and she crumpled backward in a heap on the floor.

Her assailant chuckled darkly to himself. “You thought you were something special, huh? You’re just like every other airheaded bimbo that comes marching through here thinking they’re gonna be the next Seiko Matsuda. But you’re gonna fi–”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Takao turned his head just in time to meet the fist flying at it, and it caught him square in the nose. He stumbled backward, crashing through the head of a bass drum a meter or two from Ranko.

Ranko stared up with wide eyes, her hand still rubbing her cheek. Other than Ryoga, she didn’t know if she’d ever seen a man look as furious as Crash did in that moment. He roared his words at the pervert he had just flattened. “I thought you were the one decent guy left in this whole damned business, Takao! I called you my friend! How fucking DARE you?!”

As Ranko scrambled to her feet, Takao sat up, holding his nose. Blood dripped between his hands, and the two halves of his broken sunglasses dangled from his ears. “That’s it! You’re done here, Crash. Both of you! Get your shit and get out!”

Crash glowered. “Fuck you, Tashima.” He offered Ranko his hand. “Come on, let’s get out of this shithole.”

She took his hand, blushing a little as she did and hoping the redness of her cheek where she had been struck would hide it. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing.