“Akane, be careful!”

The singer’s fiancee giggled, taking another tentative step on the rooftop of the two-story building. She led Ranko, teetering forward on a pair of red patent heels with her eyes closed, forward by the hand. “I promise, I’m not going to throw you off the roof, silly girl.”

A cool April breeze brushed through the layers of red organza around Ranko’s knees, causing her to shiver slightly. Ranko could hear the din of people - a lot of people - and the distinctive bassline that could have only been Rise.

“Almost there, baby, a couple more steps…” Akane led her to a corner of the building behind a rusty handrail that hadn’t been maintained in far too long. “There. Open your eyes.”

Ranko did as she was bidden, and the first thing that caught her eye was the spotlights. There were four, oscillating back and forth and projecting swaying beams of white light from the ground up into the night sky. But then, her eyes fell to the sidewalk surrounding the Phoenix. She stood atop the building she’d all but crawled into, half-starved and devoid of anything resembling pride, just eighteen months ago. How different it felt tonight.

The front half of the building was surrounded. The sea of people stretched around the building’s frontage and all through the street. Ranko caught a glimpse of flashing colored lights, and turned to notice two police cars blocking off the street to car traffic. Another pair of police cruisers blocked the road on the opposite side, cordoning off two whole blocks in each direction directly in front of the bar. Parked just behind the police cars, inside the blocked-off space, were a trio of TV news vans with their broadcast antennas extended and ready.

Stretching some twenty meters wide, a temporary platform had been erected in what would normally have been the far lane of traffic. Steel trusses climbed nine meters above the platform, supporting a vast array of suspended stage lights and speakers. Somebody must’ve run one hell of an extension cord, Ranko thought with a silly smirk. The platform itself was dotted with speakers, amplifiers, video cameras, and a set of instruments awaiting their masters. A huge black cloth backdrop had been hung from the rear truss, displaying the Ranko and the Dapper Dragons logo. Ranko’s pink signature alone had to be thirteen meters wide. The songstress couldn’t help but savor the observation that the backdrop completely eclipsed the building behind it, effectively erasing the dojo that had turned her away all those months ago from the street for the evening.

Off to the left side, in the middle of the Phoenix’ side of the street, a large trailer bearing a portable structure was parked without its towing vehicle. A lit sign hanging from the structure’s roof indicated that it was a merchandise stall. The line to reach the open side of the stall and browse the selections over its counter had to have been at least a hundred people long.

A square of folding tables some ten meters across had been assembled to the right side of the party space, and ten frantic workers poured drinks as fast as their hands could move for revelers on all sides of it, routinely running back to the larger table at the center of the square for a fresh bottle. Ranko could just barely make out the shape of the tall, lithe blonde that stalked between the workers, encouraging them and animatedly correcting any mistakes the temporary bartenders made. You tell ‘em, Yui, Ranko thought with pride in her big sister.

“Akane…” Ranko looked up at her beloved, her eyes welling.

Akane nodded, putting her arm around Ranko’s shoulder. The singer was shaking with nerves, and her knees were weak. “I know, baby. But you’re going to need to get used to it.” She hooked her fingers under Ranko’s chin, turning her lover’s head until they made eye contact. “This is going to be normal for you pretty soon.”

“This… could never feel normal.” Ranko’s heart was racing, and she wasn’t sure if it was due to anxiety, excitement, or both. “How do I even…”

Akane smiled reassuringly. “You know how you told me once that the stage in the Phoenix is your home, and when you’re there, you feel like you can do anything?” She turned her eyes down to the stage that had been constructed in the street below. “Tonight, that’s your stage. And so is every stage you ever step on for the rest of your life. You aren’t trespassing, Ranko. You aren’t pretending. This is for you. This is where you belong, with bright lights showing you off and thousands of people chanting your name. Go take what’s yours.” Akane’s smile faded slightly. “All I ask is that while you do, you never forget that you’re mine.”

Ranko reached down for Akane’s hands with both of hers. “Akane, I could never. I could never, ever have gotten here without you, and I never want to go anywhere else without you again. You’re my song, remember?”

Akane nodded, a tentative, hopeful smile returning to her lips. She leaned over the pair’s joined hands, kissing her future wife on the forehead, the taste of the singer’s foundation lingering on her lips. “Then I guess you’d best get your butt down there and sing it, princess.”

Ranko took a deep breath and squeezed Akane’s hands tightly. “I think I’m ready.”

Akane nodded with a wide smile. “I know you are, baby. Let’s do this. Together.” Releasing one of Ranko’s hands, she led her by the other away from the edge of the rooftop, to the door leading to the stairway back down into the building.

image [https://i.imgur.com/AwVV1gD.jpeg]

Emerging in the common room of the bar’s bottom floor, Ranko looked around at her assembled team of musicians and supporters. Hana, Ayako, Izumi and Mei were all huddled behind the service bar, sussing out their final plans for the evening once the show began. Shinji sat on the stage with Ken, conversing with Amaya Uyehara, the representative from the Yokai Records team. Seated at one of the round tables near the front of the room, Yuji Oe and a cadre of camera operators and producers discussed the best camera angles for filming various parts of the show. Jacob and Ariel peered out the front window at the assembling crowd, marveling at it together in English. Emi leaned over Jacob’s back, trying to see as well, and Hitomi paced nervously alone in the far corner.

As the first to make eye contact with Ranko, Crash slid his backside off of the table he sat on the top of, between Nabiki and Ukyo’s chairs. “Hey everybody?”

As the conversations stopped and all eyes followed Crash’s to the blue saloon doors, where Ranko stood with Akane at her side, Crash approached the vocalist he’d recruited to join his band. In his wildest dreams, he hoped tonight would come, but never did he predict it would be this soon. He raised his arm to her, holding out a dynamic microphone that he knew she wouldn’t need; all the equipment for the performance was already set up and tested outside.

“Hey, Ran-chan. You ready to go make history?”

Ranko took the microphone, holding it in both of her hands as she looked over her family and friends, a warm smile on her lips and a tear forming in her eyes. “I just want to say… Tonight couldn’t have happened without every single one of you. I can’t even find the words to tell you all how grateful I am.”

From his seat on the stage, Shinji cupped his hands around his mouth and called out. “Well, you’re the lyricist, so if you don’t have any words, we’re all fucked!” The group laughed, Ranko included.

Ranko looked down nostalgically at the microphone in her hand. It’s really all come to this. I can’t believe this is how it started, and this is where we are. Raising her eyes to her supporters, she spun the microphone in her left hand in her trademark style.

“Dragons, everything we’ve worked for starts tonight. Are you ready?!”

Still standing right in front of her, Crash nodded. “Hell yeah, I am.”

Shinji whooped from the stage, and to his right, Ken called out, “We got this, guys!”

Emi took Hitomi’s hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. “You bet your ass, Ranko!”

Jacob and Ariel shared a high-five, and Jacob screeched excitedly. “World domination, baby!”

Ranko nodded resolutely, smiling to her friends. “Then let’s go make some magic.”

A collective whoop rose from the group of musicians as they began to filter toward the door, but Ranko stood still, watching them head out into the throng one by one. After the other seven members of her band had all made their way through the glass door, Ranko started to step forward, but she was stopped by a palm pressing against her sternum to hold her in place. She looked up at its owner with a nervous smile.

Hana cupped her daughter’s face in her hands, smiling down at her as if she were walking on clouds. Ranko could only remember two other times she’d seen her normally-stoic mother look like that: when Akane first proposed to her at Christmas, and the day Mioko was born.

“Girl, do you have any idea how fucking proud of you I am?”

As Akane looked on with a joyful smile, Ranko reached forward and pulled her mother into her arms. “Mama, thank you so much. For everything. All of this is because of you. Because you took a chance on me.”

Hana kissed the top of Ranko’s head through her blown-out red hair, wrapping her arms around her back as well. “I love you, kid. No matter how big a star you become, don’t you ever forget it.”

Akane wiped a tear. See, Mr. Saotome? This is the family she always deserved. This is why she didn’t choose you.

“I love you too, mom. Always.” Ranko released her mother from the hug. “Now, I better stop this, because if I fuck up my makeup crying, Izumi’s gonna hang me from that truss out there.”

Ranko walked to the door, stopping just in front of it. She put her hand on the brass bar that served as the door handle, smiling back at the two women who had, more than anyone, shaped her new life. She took a deep breath and turned her eyes back to the door. As she started to push, Akane’s voice called to her. “Ranko, wait!”

Ranko turned just in time to collide with Akane’s body, as the love of her life had run to her and nearly tackled her. Before she could process what was happening, Akane’s arms were around her and her lips were locked with the singer’s.

She blushed as Akane released her from the kiss, and Akane giggled at the dumbstruck expression on the singer’s face. “For luck.”

“I don’t need luck.” Ranko grinned, starting to push the door open. “I have you.”

The sidewalk itself shook under Ranko’s feet with the pounding of the massive speakers that ringed the cordoned-off party area. I feel bad for anybody who’s trying to sleep within 10 blocks of this place, Ranko thought as she strode through the crowd in her fire-engine-red dress. Two crowd control personnel flanked her to keep the most aggressive of the attention-seekers at bay. As she walked toward the stage and people started to recognize her, the cheering began to build and, slowly, a gap opened in the sea of humanity to allow her passage to the stage. The cacophony of thousands of voices began to organize itself into but one.

“RAN-KO! RAN-KO! RAN-KO!”

Blushing, Ranko waved to the crowd as she made her way to the steel platform on which her friends were already preparing their final instrument checks. As she ascended the steps, the chanting devolved back into a deafening roar.

With trembling fingers, she picked up the headset microphone that awaited her atop Jacob’s synthesizer and pulled it over her hair, adjusting the microphone boom to rest exactly where she wanted it. Giving Crash a little nod as she swallowed the last of the butterflies in her stomach, she turned to face the huge crowd with an enormous smile and an enthusiastic wave.

“How we doing tonight, everybody?!”

Not waiting for the screaming to die down, Ranko continued. “My name’s Ranko Tendo. These are my friends, Crash, Shinji, Jacob, Ken, Emi, Hitomi and Ariel. We call ourselves Ranko and the Dapper Dragons.” She looked back over her shoulder with a grin at her band. “We’re dropping our first album tonight! It’s called Phoenix Rising, from Yokai Records. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

The partygoers roared, and many hundreds of them held the cassettes and compact discs they’d already purchased from the merch stand up in the air.

Ranko laughed. “Great! Well, then I guess you can all go home and listen to it, and I can take the night off! Cool?” She giggled as a chorus of laughs and playful boos surrounded her. “Well, you’d better be careful when you put that CD in! It just might get you!” She closed her eyes and bowed her head, standing perfectly still at the center of the stage with her arms crossed at the wrists over her chest.

Shinji leaned forward into his microphone, bellowing out a deep, almost demonic cackle, and Hitomi crossed in front of Ranko in a red skater dress. She sang out at the low end of her range, waving to someone she knew in the crowd.

“Whoa-oh-oh! Uh-oh! Look out, look out! Whoa-oh-oh! Uh-oh! She’s gonna make you shout!”

A short burst of six notes rose from the synthesizer before falling back into silence. Emi crossed in front of Hitomi in her matching skater dress, and they shared a high five as Emi’s higher-pitched voice took over for her roommate’s. “Whoa-oh-oh! Uh-oh! Beware the flow! Whoa-oh-oh! Uh-oh! Turn off the radio!”

As Shinji’s demonic laughter shook the stage under her feet and the rest of the band joined in the main rhythm of the song, Ranko opened her eyes with a dark, almost malicious smile, made all the more devilish by the red accents Izumi had painted around her lips and eyes. She took four steps forward to the front of the stage, packing her lungs as full of air as she could for the rapid-fire lyrics to come.

“It’s the legendary lyricist, the Phoenix rose, here to shake your body from your hair down to your toes! The beat starts in your ears, and flows down your spine; works your way into your hips until it makes you mine!”

Hitomi and Emi snapped their bodies jerkily this way and that as if they were moving involuntarily, and true to her word, the 170-beat-per-minute dance track made it almost impossible to stand still for anyone in the crowd either. Ranko herself stalked between her backup dancers, waving her fingers at them as if casting a spell on them and animating them through some dark musical necromancy.

“Oozes down into your heart, and it infects your soul until your whole, entire body starts to lose control. ‘Cause the second you start hearing my hypnotic groove, you’ll forget how to think, and you can only move!”

Ranko flung her arms forcefully to either side, her fingers opening wide as if releasing Hitomi and Emi from her unseen grasp. The two girls’ movements became far less robotic and both donned broad smiles. They continued the same basic dance moves much more fluidly, as if the power over them had faded, but they were now enjoying what they were doing far too much to stop.

Ranko waved dismissively with her hand at the absolutely electrified crowd. “Don’t be shy! Everyone knows you can’t help but lose it when your system’s overridden by the sound of music! It’s not your fault! Nobody can maintain their focus when they’re sucked into the Dragon-style hocus-pocus!”

Without taking her eyes off the crowd, Ranko gestured to her band behind her.

“Don’t know why you’re surprised that you’re completely transfixed and absolutely mesmerized by the track that we mixed. With Ranko on the mic, Crash strummin’, Ken, drummin’, Shin and Jacob dropping bombs back there? You should’ve seen it coming!”

The crowd roared in appreciation as Ranko acknowledged her musician friends as Emi’s voice called out to the crowd in warning. “Whoa-oh-oh, uh-oh! Beware the flow!”

Hitomi’s lower pitch countered as she gestured wildly to the crowd, waving her arms as if trying to warn them of impending danger. “Whoa-oh-oh, uh-oh! Turn off the radio!”

Ranko’s dark, sinister smile returned, and she stalked heel-over-toe unblinkingly toward the front of the stage. Every movement was calculated and deliberate, in juxtaposition with Hitomi and Emi’s wilder flailing to the dance beat.

“You can’t help but dance! There’s no time to rest! There’s a siren on the mic that’s making you possessed! There’s nowhere to hide! Nowhere to go!”

Shinji’s booming bass harmonized with Ranko’s high-pitched pop princess-twinged voice as they slid further and further down the musical scale. “No escaping from the demon in your ra-a-di-o!”

As the title of the song sluiced from her tongue, five pyrotechnic cannons belched columns of flame upward from the top of the trusses, and all of the stage lighting shifted from white to a hellish red that complemented the devil-inspired dresses of all three female performers.

Again, Shinji’s booming, villainous laughter crackled through the speakers as Ranko dove straight into the second verse, grateful for the few seconds’ pause Crash had left between them. Singing this fast was hard, and she could barely dance while maintaining the pace.

“There’s another verse coming, so I’m back from hell to put your shakin’ butt right back under my spell. There’s a slither in my rhythm, shipped in straight from Hades, heating all the boys up…”

Ranko turned her head to the left, winking with a devious grin to her fiancee in the wings of the temporary stage while Hitomi and Emi harmonized the phrase she’d snuck into the lyrics to acknowledge the true object of her desires.

“... and most of the ladies!”

“Damn, girlfriend’s pulling no punches out there!” Ukyo leaned into Akane in the wings at the side of stage left, grinning. “I had no idea she was this good.”

As a chorus of predominantly feminine whoops rose from the audience, Ranko continued.

“So, don’t call a doctor! Don’t call a priest! You’re a thrall to the rhythm and can’t be released! All that’s left is to surrender and profess your devotion as you’re lyrically commanded to perpetual motion!”

“Oh, Ukyo…” Akane giggled. “You have no idea.” She gestured her head in the direction of the guitarist to Ranko’s left. “How’s things with you and Crash?”

The brunette blushed, hiding her face with her hand coyly. “Pretty good, so far. He’s a sweet guy.”

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Grinning, Akane gave a little nod. “Yeah, I guess he really is.” Even when he wouldn’t give up on Ranko, he was always decent and respectful about it. Far cry from guys like Kuno or Saburo. Gotta give him credit where credit’s due.

Ranko smiled broadly, watching her song having the exact effect for which it was intended. The four blocks of cordoned-off street had already morphed from road to concert, and now they had become an all-out dance party.

“I’m a psycho on the microphone, vile and evil! With a rhythm this insidious, it’s gotta be illegal! As long as you can hear me, then you’re mine for the taking. Now, my devilish revelry’s got your skeleton shaking!”

Her cadence could only be more a spoken rap than singing at the speed with which she fired volleys of lyrics at her fans. Her lungs burned for a break, a chance to fill with air again, but Ranko’s relentless verse had not quite yet neared its end.

“Your muscles take over, your mind’s deactivated as this tricksy singing pixie makes you totally captivated. Might as well give in and come to grips with your fate; once you heard the bass drop, it was already too late!”

As Ranko’s chest heaved, Emi’s warning again showered the audience, albeit far too late. “Whoa-oh-oh, uh-oh! Beware the flow!”

Hitomi shook her head, flailing her arms at Emi as if trying to convince her to stop what she was doing. “Whoa-oh-oh, uh-oh! Turn off the radio!”

Rocketing to the front of the stage, Ranko kicked her leg out to the left, leaning to her right and rocking back and forth at the hips. Hitomi and Emi flanked her from just behind, forming a chevron behind her as the three danced in perfect synchronization.

“You can’t help but dance! There’s no time to rest! There’s a siren on the mic that’s making you possessed! There’s nowhere to hide! Nowhere to go! No escaping from the…”

This time, she trailed off, letting Shinji’s gravelly bass voice finish the line as it crept lower and lower in pitch with each note. “DEMON in your ra-a-di-o!”

Ranko turned her back to the crowd, gyrating slowly despite the high-energy dance beat. The effect was seductive, but in practicality, the bit of choreography had been designed to allow the singer a moment to pack her lungs with air for the final half-verse, which was even faster than the rest had been. She closed her eyes, breathing in all the air she could hold in her lungs through her nose, holding her breath for a few seconds and letting it out. She’d learned the technique to quickly regulate her breathing and recover from a blow to the ribs, although she doubted anything would be kicking her tonight except the bass that quaked the whole of the platform underneath her feet at least once a second. She repeated the steps a few more times in the couple of seconds of rest afforded to her by the musical bridge.

She turned, her wavy red hair flouncing over her left shoulder as she whipped her head around with a self-satisfied grin. She was proud of the rest of the verses, but when she wrote this one, she’d just been showing off. She was especially impressed with herself for having written it without Mrs. Tanaka’s help, because she strongly doubted her English teacher would have approved of what she was about to vocalize. She rocked on the balls of her feet, holding her hands outward at waist level as she danced as much as she dared during the coming volley of vocals.

“You’re not ready for me, boy! I’m strange and exotic! Diabolically, chaotically, hypnotically erotic! Even if you don’t wanna be dancin’, well, you’re forced to be, so cower to my power of seductive sonic sorcery! You know you’re totally enchanted, so give in to my hex! You ain’t gettin’ with me…” She snapped her head to the left, grinning just offstage at the one person at the party for whom that statement was false. “... and so it’s better than sex!”

She pointed at the back of the crowd, where people still stood in line waiting to buy their own Phoenix Rising cassettes and compact discs. A few had even purchased the album on vinyl. “Even the wallflowers over there, bored and listless, will be crawling to the floor, screaming out…”

Hitomi and Emi both bowed at the waists, extending their arms over their heads and lowering them toward Ranko in mock worship. As they sang the final two words without Ranko, so too did a smattering of people in the crowd who had already listened to the song on their portable music players and knew what was coming.

“Yes, mistress!”

Ukyo blinked up at Akane. You… you’re okay with her doing that out there? Damn. You really have come a long way in trusting her…

With no pause after the last verse, Ranko launched herself directly into the final chorus.

“You can’t help but dance! There’s no time to rest! There’s a siren on the mic that’s makin’ you possessed! There’s nowhere to hide! Nowhere to go! No escaping from the demon in your ra-a-di-o!”

Ranko’s eyes narrowed sinisterly as she reached out with her right hand to the crowd, clenching her fingers around an invisible ball as if ripping the souls right out of her audience’s chests.

“Now that I’ve got you, I ain’t ever gonna let you go! No escaping from the demon in your ra-a-di-o!”

A hard bass drop nearly blew out the giant speakers hanging overhead as the high-energy dance beat ended, and only Shinji’s hellish cackle punctuated the song’s ending. That, and the absolute eruption of the thousands of people that filled the block in front of the Phoenix.

Ranko waved to the crowd with her left hand as she carefully mopped sweat from her brow with her right. That song had been hard to rehearse, but gods, it was harder to do when she was putting show-level energy behind it. Fortunately, she’d planned herself a little respite in the set list – physically, at least.

“Whew! We’re done, right? Or do you guys want more?”

Again, the crowd, who seemed nowhere near as tired out as she was, enthusiastically began chanting her name again.

Ranko laughed, waving to them. “Okay, okay. But we’re gonna slow it down a little, if that’s alright with you guys.”

She turned as Crash approached her from behind, carrying a wooden stool and what appeared to be a half-meter long representation of a firebird in flight, with a round hole eight centimeters in diameter punched through its chest.

Ranko perched herself on the stool, crossing her ankles as Crash helped her slide the black strap of the phoenix-styled guitar the label had procured for her stage performances over her neck. She looked up at her friend and musical mentor nervously, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “You got this.”

Crash stepped back as the stage lights faded, leaving only a pair of spotlights trained on her stool. He flashed a winning smile, giving a little wave to the brunette that stood with Akane at stage left as he took his mark. The remainder of her bandmates sipped from bottles of water, enjoying their break as Ranko took a deep breath, pulling her pick out of its little pocket on the back of the guitar. Here goes nothing. Never done this on stage before.

Ranko began plucking a simple melody out on her new guitar, only a few chords in a repeating pattern. Jimi Hendrix I ain’t, but it sounds pretty, she thought to herself with a blush. And for this song, that’s all she needed. So much so, in fact, that none of her bandmates joined her with their own instruments - this song was Ranko’s, and hers alone.

“Did you know the way time stops when our eyes meet? The way that everything else fades out of mind? Did you know I hear your name in each heartbeat? That you’re the one my soul was always meant to find?”

Ranko smiled warmly up at the crowd, many of whom were waving their lighters in the air.

----------------------------------------

“The Phoenix inside never dies! Hey, Minato! You’ve been great! Thanks for coming out, and enjoy the album! Good night!” Ranko waved, speaking over her four bandmates echoing the never dies line.

She leapt upward nearly a full meter off the stage, thrusting her right fist in the air. “YOU IGNITE AND YOU RISE!”

Before her feet landed back on the stage, all the lights facing it blinked out, leaving Ranko and her bandmates in total darkness other than the faintest hint of moonlight.

“Gods, how does she… I’m tired just from standing here watching her!”

Akane laughed in Ukyo’s direction. “She does it because she loves it.” Akane did wish they had thought to add seating on the side of the stage for the pair of band partners that chose to be backstage. Ken never formally brought his boyfriend to shows, though the band had made it clear he was welcome to. As far as Akane knew, no one in the band had ever met him or even knew his name, though she hoped he at least was out in the audience somewhere.

Ranko had already sung seven of the nine songs on the Phoenix Rising album; after Demon in Your Radio and You’re My Song, there was Not Yours, Don’t Touch, followed by Call Me Pandora and Freak. They’d decided not to perform Fly; what amounted to a lullaby didn’t seem to suit a high-energy concert. After a quick costume change into a white bodycon dress, Ranko and her band had performed Nothing, and now, Rise was coming to an end.

The crowd chanted furiously in the dark in response to what they considered to be a premature end to the concert. “RAN-KO! RAN-KO! RAN-KO!”

Ukyo blinked at Akane, a confused expression on her face. “Why aren’t they coming off the stage?”

With a grin, Akane turned to her friend and former rival as a jaunty spy-themed tune started spilling from Shinji’s bass guitar and the crowd went berserk. “Because they’re not quite done.”

The stage lights all sparked back to life at once, and within seemingly the same microsecond, Ranko’s voice was already sliding sultrily from the speakers.

“You say you’re not sorry that we’re lovers, babe. Why’d you hide me underneath the covers, babe? You tell me I don’t have any flaws, but then, why’s my stuff still locked up in your closet, then? You tell everybody that there’s no one here, and lock the door and touch me, and it sends me to the stratosphere! I don’t understand the need for this mystique. If I’m so good for you, why do you sneak?!”

The band repeated the few bars between the first verse and the first refrain, extending the space and giving Ranko a few moments to speak to the crowd. “Oh, come on, now. You guys didn’t really think I was gonna sneak out of here like that on you, didja?!”

Ranko placed her hands on her hips as the crowd roared, Hitomi and Emi echoing the movement on either side of her as they rocked side to side in their tight costumes. All three girls sang as one.

“Sneak, baby, sneak, baby, don’t get caught! You don’t want anyone to know about this thing we’ve got! Sneak, baby, sneak, baby, don’t tell yet, because it isn’t just the temperature that makes you sweat!” A significant percentage of the audience sang the refrain along with the three girls on stage.

Ranko bit her finger in mock nervousness, giving a sad, blank valley girl look in the direction of Crash as Emi and Hitomi huddled around him. They danced in place, but acted largely as if the three were engaged in a conversation to which Ranko had not been invited.

“You tell me you’ve started hearin’ wedding bells. Still, your friends try to hook you up with someone else. When they’re next to you, it’s like you don’t know I’m alive. The second that they look away…”

Ranko slid her hand provocatively down the front of her dress. “... you send me into overdrive! I can’t help it, fallin’ underneath your spell. You’re the best at kiss, and kiss, and never tell.”

Hitomi and Emi both covered their eyes, and Ranko crept behind one of the large box speakers on the stage. “We’re living in a game of hide and seek. If I’m so good for you, why do you sneak?!”

The songstress wrapped her arms around herself, letting her hands explore her own body through her tight white dress. While seeking to appear seductive, she was careful not to accidentally tease herself to the point that she could not actually sing – a lesson a handsome “boy” named “Aki” had so expertly taught her a few weeks ago at the Yokai recording studio on Valentine’s Day. Right before “he” had asked Ranko to be “his” wife.

“Sneak, baby, sneak, baby, no one knows how many nights I’ve lay here beggin’ you to hold me close! Sneak, baby, sneak, baby, tell those lies, and don’t admit the way my body leaves you hypnotized!”

Ukyo blinked, turning incredulously to Akane. “Is that really…”

“I told you. She’s not the same person you knew anymore.” Akane giggled, a wolfish smicker lingering on her face. “She’s a fuckin’ fox.”

“But…” Ukyo blushed, her mouth hanging open. “You’re really okay with her singing like… that?”

“Oh, honey, just wait.” Smirking at Ukyo, she sang along with her lover behind the stage curtain, grabbing the hem of her skirt and swishing it playfully. “You made me your dirty little secret, then, you made me your dirty little freak again…”

Ranko covered her mouth as if she were shocked and offended by something Hitomi had said to her. “I’m a good girl, prim and proper innocence! They don’t see your fingers creepin’ up my dress.” Ranko’s fingers ever so slowly walked up her bare thigh, lifting the hem of her dress no more than about a centimeter, but it was plenty enough for the boys in the audience to lose their minds.

“I’ll keep quiet for you, baby, it’s okay. Hold my breath so they don’t hear you take my breath away. The way you move my body makes me weak. If I’m so good for you, why do you sneak?!”

“Good gods!” Ukyo’s face was redder than the first costume Ranko had worn on stage that night. “She’s a dirty little thing now, isn’t she?” Where the hell was this when I had a shot with her?!

Ukyo’s eyes widened even more mid-sentence as Ranko continued. “Sneak, baby, sneak, baby, hide your face, so no one figures out it’s you touchin’ my special place!”

The brunette stopped speaking just in time to hear Ranko purr seductively into the microphone alongside the refrain’s last line. “That’s why I’m buried in my pillow when you make me scream…”

Akane giggled. “What’s the matter, Ukyo? Is it gettin’ to ya? Come on, it’s not that big a deal…” Tough shit, girlie. Suck it up. She’s hot, she’s talented, and she’s all mine.

“Just… wow.” The look on Ukyo’s face was definitely somewhere between shock and arousal.

“You don’t seem to notice how it gets to me that you don’t let them know you’re sleepin’ next to me. Every heartbeat, I am under your command. What I’d give if you’d let them see you hold my hand. I’m your candy, baby, drip me off your arm. Let them talk, babe, we ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong! You say you think I’m perfect and unique… if I’m so good for you, why do you sneak?!”

“Please tell me she’s almost done.” Ukyo’s face was aflame. Ranko had performed the song the night she first met Crash, but she’d been talking with Akane through it and hadn’t really paid attention to the performance. Now, she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. I can’t take much more of this, though. Not if Akane expects me to behave.

Akane nodded. “Almost.” With a little smirk, she turned her eyes back to the stage. Just one more bit.

“Speak, baby, speak, baby, tell them, please, the way your whisper in my ear can put me on my knees! Speak, baby, speak, baby, say it’s true that you’re okay with people knowing I belong to you! Speak, baby, speak, baby, say you’re mine, and send another little shiver up and down my spine! Speak, baby, speak, baby, say I’m yours, and I don’t have to be your lover just behind closed doors…”

As Hitomi and Emi’s hands whirled around Ranko’s body, Ukyo bit her tongue hard. I could hit one of them over the head. Take their spot. Nobody’d ever notice. Nope! Can’t think like that. Bad, Ukyo! You promised. And besides, you’re with Crash. And he’s great! He’s not Ranma, but then again, clearly, neither is whoever the hell that is up there.

“There, see? That wasn’t so bad!” Akane snickered mockingly in Ukyo’s direction. “No need to get all hot and bothered!” She turned back to the stage to sing along with the coda. “I’ve done my best at pla…” She stopped mid-word, a confused look on her face as Ranko’s voice did not join hers as expected.

“Something wrong?” Ukyo took a step forward, concerned for Akane’s sudden dismay despite the torment she’d inflicted these last few minutes.

Akane watched the stage with wide eyes. Why isn’t the band wrapping up? What the heck are you doing, Ranko?

Ranko stalked a wide circle in the stage as the last few bars of music repeated, the crowd beginning to murmur with the expectation that something may be up. Anyone who had listened to the album or been to a show at the Phoenix in the last few months knew the song should have ended by now. As she crossed stage left, she dropped a devious wink in the direction of the two women backstage. Cycling back around to the front of the stage, Ranko giggled coyly, biting her lip and blushing a bit, playing it up for her audience as they cheered.

“Whaaaaaaat? Don’t tell me, you guys want to know what happened next, or something?”

The crowd exploded in a deafening roar of cheers and applause.

Akane gulped. “Oh, shit.”

Ukyo chuckled, putting her arm around Akane’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, Akane? Now you’re looking a little nervous…”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Akane whimpered in a high-pitched whine, reminding herself to breathe. What the hell is that little minx up to now?

“Well, okay. If you insiiiist.” Ranko giggled as she held out her left hand, and Emi and Hitomi both began inspecting the back of it intently as Ranko began to sing over the din of cheering revelers.

“Not sure how you think we’re gonna hide this thing when I suddenly start showing off your ring.”

Akane nodded, exhaling heavily in relief. Okay. She’s being good. Good girl, Ranko. This is fine.

Hitomi grabbed Ranko’s left wrist, and Emi her right, pulling them both behind her back. Ranko winced a bit, as they were rougher than she might have liked, but it worked for the line. “Hold me down, ‘cause it’s gettin’ hard to explain all these claw marks dug into the mattress frame.”

Akane covered her mouth. On second thought, bad girl. Very bad girl.

Ranko shook her head as her backup dancers released her arms, affecting a sultry purr in her voice. “I don’t think our love's a secret anymore. I know they can hear me screaming from next door!” She grinned playfully. Sorry, not sorry, Mr. Gao.

Ukyo giggled, punching her fellow band girlfriend teasingly in the shoulder. “What’s the matter? I thought it was no big deal, Akane!” The audience certainly seemed to think it was, though, devolving into bedlam in excitement over Sneak’s even saucier surprise fifth verse.

Her face neon red, Akane could only cover it with her palms to hide from Ukyo’s good-natured ribbing. Oh, Ranko, baby, light of my life, I love you, and I’m gonna murder you.

An audio sample of a high-pitched squeaking noise played through the speakers. Ranko glanced back at Akane with a devilish smile that her blushing fiancee did not see through her hands, covering her eyes with them as she still was in flustered mortification. “And every time we make the headboard creak, it gets a bit more obvious we sneak!”

The crowd was absolutely rabid, screaming so loudly that Ariel had to adjust the speaker volume slightly for the last two lines of the newly-minted verse to be audible.

Ranko spread out the fingers of her left hand across her navel, and she rolled her hips provocatively in time with the music, Hitomi and Emi following suit. She knew that if anyone looked closely enough, they’d catch the light refracting off of the diamond solitaire dazzling on her left third finger, and at that moment, she did not care in the slightest. All the world was hers, and she was determined to enjoy it fearlessly, if only for an instant.

“Sneak, baby, sneak, baby, lock the doors, but I’m pretty sure the word is gettin’ out I’m yours! Sneak, baby, sneak, baby, hey, we tried, but what you do to me is way too good for me to hide!”

Akane’s face had gone from red to blue and back to red again in the span of approximately thirty seconds.

“I’ve done my best at playing mild and meek, but I’m tired of these teardrops on my cheek. All I want is you beside me. All you want to do is hide me!”

Ranko waved to the crowd enthusiastically with both hands. “That’s our show! Good night everybody! We love you!”

She snapped her head over her shoulder in time with her two backup dancers, and all three of them placed their open palms on their left hips, harmonizing one final line as the lights of the stage blinked out and some ten thousand voices roared as one.

“If I’m so good for you, why do you sneak?!”