These days, it took a lot to make Ranko feel out of place, but Izumi had managed it.
Ranko sat at one of the tables, wearing a pastel blue dress. Mei had convinced her it was a good idea to wear stockings, as some of the nastier scrapes on her legs hadn’t yet healed. She had to control her breathing just to tolerate the constant tickling of the nylon slithering on her sensile skin. She’d tried to pull her hair back into a ponytail, but the pressure on her scalp gave her a headache almost immediately, and so she opted for a pair of barrette clips to keep her hair out of her eyes.
Yui reached over the bar from the patrons’ side, lining up shot glasses on the counter and spinning a bottle of tequila in her hand. “Who’s ready for another one?” A chorus of cheers came from the women surrounding the guest of honor, a few of whom had probably had enough to drink already.
Off to one side of the stage, a small pile of boxes wrapped in white and pastel paper mocked Ranko silently. There were dozens of empty tables, as tonight’s event was private, but they’d stacked the presents on her stage knowing it wouldn’t be used for anything else, and Ranko desperately wanted it to.
One of the women stood up, shouting to the group. “Let’s play another game!” Ranko groaned quietly to herself. Yui had briefly explained the concept of a bridal shower earlier that morning, and the whole women get together and give the bride stuff she’s going to need once they’re married thing made perfect sense. However, she hadn’t been warned that there would be games, and that a lot of them would have to do with sex. With guys. However perverted Akane had accused her of being in her former life, the last ninety minutes had convinced her that girls had the capacity to be much worse. And now, she was expected to play along.
The current provocateur, whom Izumi had introduced as Makoto, walked to the wall with a huge roll of paper and two thumbtacks. She attached the paper to the wall about two meters high with a tack in each of the upper corners and let it go, and it unrolled to reveal a life-sized black-and-white photo of a muscular guy without a shirt on.
“Okay, ladies,” Makoto began. “The objective here is to give my friend here a kiss on the lips. Sounds easy, huh? Well, not so much!” She reached in her pocket, pulling out a long strip of black cloth. “When it’s your turn, you’re going to grab one of these lipstick tubes here and put some on. Then, we’ll blindfold you, and we’ll see who can get the closest! Izumi, you’re the bride, so you’re first.”
Ranko looked under her table, and Ayako leaned over to her. “You okay, sis?” With Yui organizing the party and bartending, and Mei running music, the eldest sister had been tasked with keeping an eye on Ranko.
The redhead nodded. “Just looking for somewhere to hide.”
Izumi’s kiss landed squarely in the photo’s armpit, and the two women that followed her barely hit the paper at all. The fourth had actually kissed a beer ad that was hanging off to the left of the photo. Makoto looked down at the guest list. “Ayako, you’re next!”
The eldest of Ranko’s sisters blushed, standing and walking over to the designated humiliation station. She donned a liberal coat of hot pink lipstick and Makoto tied the cloth around her eyes. As she was loosed from Makoto’s grasp, Ayako stopped for a moment, listening for the tittering of the guests to get her bearings, and walked forward. Her kiss landed on the man in the photo’s chin – not perfect, but easily the best so far. Ranko had to clap; her strategy had been sound.
“Okay! Ranko, you’re up!”
The redhead hid her face in her hands, blushing furiously. She silently thanked any god or good spirit that had a hand in Akane having to stay home and catch up on schoolwork tonight. She stood, trepidatiously walking to Makoto. She picked up a bright red tube of lipstick, her hands shaking. She’d actually never done this before, and now some twenty women were watching. Fortunately, the majority of them had been sloppy with the makeup on purpose for the humor of it, so she was spared too many judgmental eyes when the job she did was far less than perfect.
The cloth was laid over her eyes, and Makoto gently took hold of her shoulders. “Okay, here we go!” She spun the teen once, twice, three times, with the other women helpfully counting out the rotations. “Okay, go get him!”
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The blinded girl staggered on her feet. She knew she was no longer spinning, but she still felt like she was. Not only could she not tell what direction she was facing, she was struggling to even tell up from down, her head feeling like it was full of water sloshing back and forth in her skull. She took one step forward, leaning to her right and taking one big lurch in that direction before falling onto her hands and knees. She thought she was going to be sick. Not only was the room still spinning, but she had realized that the only thing more humiliating than trying to kiss a picture of a guy was trying and failing to do so.
Several of the partygoers laughed loudly. “I thought she wasn’t drinking,” one of them snarked. Ranko rocked on her hands and knees, trying to find enough of a rhythm in the vertigo to combat it. She dared not take one of her hands from the floor to remove the blindfold, for fear she would fall onto her face.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, and then the blindfold was removed, knocking the yellow barrette out of one side of her hair. Ayako kneeled down next to her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I should have realized this game was gonna be hard for you right now.” She offered Ranko a hand, helping her to her feet. The drunker women continued cackling until a glare from Izumi quieted them.
Ayako helped her sister to a chair, and Izumi turned to Makoto. “Keep it going,” the bride instructed.
Makoto called for the next participant, taking the attention of most of the revelers while Izumi made her way to the table where Ranko sat. “Hey, little sister, are you okay?”
A quiet “yeah” came in reply as Ranko decided her head was too wobbly to attempt a nod.
Izumi patted the back of her sister’s hand on the table. “You can go upstairs if you want, you know, if you’re still not feeling good.”
Ranko sighed sadly. “I suck at being a bridesmaid. I was a mess the day we did the dress fitting, and now this. I’m just embarrassing you and messing things up. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m so sorry, Izzi.”
Izumi handed her a napkin to remove the garish lipstick from her mouth. “You got dizzy because you’re not fully recovered from when you almost got killed saving my son’s life, and you honestly think you’re embarrassing me?”
The redhead shook her head gently, tossing the red-stained napkin on the table. “Izzi, Hoshi wouldn’t have even been at risk if it wasn’t for me. That guy that attacked us, he wasn’t some random mugger. He came looking for me, he found me, and he beat me. I’m not the superhero you’re making me out to be.”
Izumi scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Why would some crazy guy come looking for you at a carnival?”
“Because I’m with Akane, and he wants to be.” There was a lot more to it than that, but it was the simplest answer she could give, and had the added advantage of being true. Ranko looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the crumpled-up napkin.
“Ranko…” Izumi sighed. “Look at me, honey.” The younger girl complied with the request, and Izumi continued. A cheer rose from the crowd behind as the winner of the kissing game was announced. “Even if that guy was there looking for you, that doesn’t mean it was your fault. It means he was jealous and destructive, and he didn’t care who got hurt. You did. I know you could have gotten out from under that thing in time, but you went back for Hoshi. To protect him.”
Ranko looked away again, and Izumi stepped to the side to remain in her line of sight. “You didn’t back down from that guy even though you didn’t think you could win. Hundreds of people got away because you did. Last week, my son learned that girls can defend themselves and the people they love. He learned that no matter how big the bad guy, anyone can stand their ground, and win or lose, it’s always the right thing to do to try. He learned that girls can be every bit as brave and selfless as guys can. He didn’t get that from some manga book. You taught him that, Ranko. Two weeks ago, he thought heroes all look like Batman and Superman, and now, if you ask him who his hero is? It’s you. It’s a girl in a pretty dress who stood up to a bully when nobody else would. Who chose to go back into danger to help someone who needed it, without super strength or a cape, just a lot of courage and love. If that’s not a hero, what is? When Hoshi is that guy’s age, he will be a better man because of what his auntie taught him.”
Ranko blinked. She’d never considered herself an example for how to be a great woman. She was still getting the hang of fastening a bra. “Do you really mean all that?”
Izumi nodded, tucking a loose strand of Ranko’s hair behind her ear and offering her a hand. “You bet your ass I do. Now, come on, Wonder Woman, let’s get you to bed.”