“Let’s go, Masahiko!”
Ranko jumped up in the air, kicking above her head. She laughed to herself as Yusue High’s third baseman approached the plate. I remember when I used to laugh at Shiori for giving a damn if we scored. Gods, look at me. I’ve been assimilated. But I have to set an example for the new girls.
“LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Ranko blinked at Kayo, by far the most enthusiastic of her new recruits. On second thought, good grief, girl. I mean, there’s cheering, and then there’s… whatever the hell that was. Take a breath, kid. Or a Valium. Or both.
The freshman turned to the crowd seated behind the left outfield, jumping up and down, waving her pom-poms almost desperately at the capacity crowd of the little municipal stadium, some eight thousand. “Come on! Get loud!” She didn’t even notice the crack of the bat behind her.
“Yeah! Great hit!” Ranko waved her pom-poms in the direction of home plate, but she cringed a mere quarter-second later as she noticed the trajectory of the ball.
Oh, shit.
She turned to her left, grabbing Kayo by the back collar of her uniform and pulling her down to the red clay of the warning track half a heartbeat before the ball sailed past her and bounced off the brick wall, at just about the height where the back of her head had just been. Ranko scrambled to her feet, pulling the dumbstruck girl out of the way before the Shibuya Stars left fielder could arrive to scoop up the ball. He threw it back toward the catcher, but it was too late - the Yusue runners on second and third had both scored, giving Yusue the lead and, since it was the bottom of the ninth inning, the win.
The remainder of the cheerleaders whooped and performed little kicks and flips in celebration as the baseball team gathered at mid-field to trade high-fives and shake hands in good sportsmanship with their vanquished opponents.
“Thanks, Ranko,” Kayo squeaked as she brushed the red clay off her knees, her embarrassment evident on her face.
“No problem. You’re doing great, Kayo. You just gotta pay attention, is all.” Ranko grinned in excitement. “C’mon. Now we gotta go set up for the real show.”
The public address system crackled to life. “And there’s your final, with the Yusue Lions defeating the Shibuya Stars five runs to four! Don’t forget, Lions fans! Stick around for a special performance from local recording artists Ranko and the Dapper Dragons, and the Yusue Lions cheerleaders!” A cheer that might well have rivaled the one celebrating the winning run rose from the crowd as a few of the groundskeeping staff began wheeling a round red platform into position over the pitcher’s mound.
Ranko waved to the crowd as she jogged to the center of the field, making eye contact with Jacob as he wheeled his keyboard stand out onto the grass. “Hey, bud! Ready to rock?”
The green-haired musician chuckled, looking his band’s lead vocalist over. “Damn, girl. And I thought you dressed skimpy on stage normally.”
The redhead blushed, looking over her cheerleading uniform. She waved him off with the back of her hand. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Trimble. Not my fault your girl’s on another continent and you’re hard up, man. I know you can’t help but stare, but…”
Jacob laughed, carrying his instrument up the four steps to the two-meter high platform. “Whatever. You got your girls ready for this?”
Ranko scoffed. “Are you kidding?! I trained ‘em! These girls can shake it with the best of ‘em!”
Ken put his arm around Ranko from behind, having not yet ascended to the portable stage. “Good, ‘cause they’re about to.”
The cheerleader blushed up at her friend. “Thanks, Ken. Love you too, man. Now, go get ready! We gotta do this!”
From the stage, Shinji looked down at the band’s diminutive drummer with a smirk. “Yeah, Ken. Get your scrawny ass up here already.”
“And you!” Ranko pointed up at Shinji with a wide smile. “Eyes off the merchandise!” She held out her arms as if trying to block his view of the thirteen cheerleaders who were amassing behind her, for whom she bore responsibility as their captain.
“Please,” the dour boy deadpanned. “Like I’d want to be with a cheerleader. That’s me, all pep and spunk. You should know me better than that.”
Crash tousled his friend’s hair from behind. “We do know you, Shinji, and so we know you wanna get with just about anything that moves.”
“Hey! Not anything that moves!” Shinji blushed, a rare splash of color on an otherwise nearly constantly monochromatic young man. Ranko could have sworn he wore makeup just to make himself more pale and gaunt-looking. “Just, anything that moves like that!”
“Yeah, well…” Ranko motioned behind her in the direction of her squadmates with a playful sneer. “Not yours. Don’t touch.”
“Ran-chan, you gonna change?” Crash peered down at the cheerleader from his perch on the stage.
The vocalist wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “Nah. This is a school function, so I should look like part of the squad. Speaking of which, I gotta go get them ready. You got this?”
Receiving a thumbs-up from Crash, Ranko trotted back to rejoin her squadmates. “How we feeling, girls?”
Kumiko blushed at her friend. “Nervous as hell. I… I don’t think I can do this, Ranko, I don’t wanna embarrass you if I mess up.”
“Then don’t mess up, new kid,” Tanda said with a jocular sneer.
“Hey.” Ranko stepped closer to the young brunette, putting a reassuring arm over her shoulder. “We’ve been practicing this for over a week. You do it perfect every time. You got this, Kumi.”
Kumiko shook her head emphatically. “That was on a rugby field with just us. This is… it’s performing for thousands of people with an actual pop star! I can’t! There’s no way!” She waved both hands in front of her desperately.
Ranko reached forward, pulling her friend into a tight hug. “Hey. Remember Dream-Color Chaser? Stop worrying so much about Ranko’s a pop star, already! Just come have fun and dance with me and our friends. Can you do that, Kumi?”
Brushing her auburn hair out of her face shyly, Kumiko gave a meek nod. “I think so.”
As Ranko addressed her nervous charges, Aoi jogged up to her, a small black bundle in her hand. “Crash said you might want this.” She handed the jumbled wire to the squad captain, and helped Ranko clip the battery pack to the headset to the back of her pleated red-and-silver skirt. After having to uncomfortably duct tape the device to her back at the All-Tokyo Invitational nearly six months ago, Crash had helped her rig a locking clasp to the battery pack for her own headset so that it could survive gymnastics maneuvers.
The fourteen young women gathered into a cluster at the front of the stage, and as they did, the din of hundreds of conversations in the stands ended almost immediately at the introduction of a playful beat emitted from Jacob’s synthesizer. The crowd was taken a bit off-guard by it, because there was no singer on the little round stage.
The fourteen girls formed a triangle pointed toward the front of the stage, with rows of one, two, two, four, and five cheerleaders -- the middle row missing its middle position to leave a hollow in the center of the triangle -- and began to snap into perfectly synchronized motion, their pom-poms alternating between shaken in the air and propped on their hips as girls popped their bodies left and right to the music. Tanda, with her bright orange hair, took point on the pyramid, with the hope that at a distance, the crowd would mistake her for Ranko.
As they danced through the lengthy intro, the chevron of girls moved forward as a group ten or so meters from the stage. As the beat began to settle into a different rhythm, Tamiko and Yori stepped forward from the second row. Dropping their pom-poms on the grass, each of them took Tanda by one of her arms, and together they lifted her into a standing position on their shoulders at the front of the triangle. Bending her knees, Tanda launched herself upward from her perch into a double twist, and as she launched herself through the air, Tamiko and Yori separated by a step to their left and right, respectively.
Under the girl still twisting in the air, the second girl in the fourth row ran forward to the front of the triangle, and the crowd began to rumble in its approval, for this was the only one of the fourteen girls with that telltale red hair. Tami and Yori closed the gap, basket-catching Tanda and depositing her between them. Tanda stepped back through the missing spot in the third row to replace Ranko in the fourth, as the squad’s captain turned to her left.
Ranko, flanked by her thirteen squadmates performing identical choreography, pushed downward to her left, with her pom-poms, bending at the waist as if digging with a shovel. Every time she pulled her arms back, she stepped to the left with a pop of her hips, almost like she was pulling herself along with a rope. With each step, the entire triangle began to rotate around the stage like the spoke of a wheel with the stage as its hub.
The girls behind Ranko - except the rightmost three in the back row - moved left as well. As she did, she began to sing, her pop princess affectation on full display. Her song was light, bouncy, and almost playful, a far cry from another she’d started writing a few days ago.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“When we started out, everyone said we were delirious. No one thought we even had a chance to get this serious. Everyone who knew us thought we’d call it quits pretty quick!”
The triangle of young women had orbited a full ninety degrees around the stage, now pointed in the direction of the left outfield rather than the right. Mizuki, Kayo and Ayame, the three girls that had not moved with the triangle from the back row, stayed in position, forming a new, smaller triangle with Ayame in front.
“They all thought we’d both get hurt, it would be tragic. The sparks between us should have burned, but they made magic! And now they can’t believe it’s looking like this thing’s gonna stick!”
The triangle of cheerleaders continued popping their hips and pulling themselves to their left along invisible ropes, this time leaving Rin and Moriko from the fifth row and Tanda from the fourth behind to form another chevron of girls pointing toward the left outfield.
“Pretty sure I know exactly how you feel! There’s just one more thing I need from you to seal the deal…”
As her rotating triangle pointed to third base, Ranko held out her left hand, her right on her right hip. Still holding her pom-poms, she stared at her left hand intently as she wiggled the rest of her body. Both the seven remaining girls behind her, and the two trios the squad had deposited as it had made its way widdershins around the little round stage that still stood without a lead performer, mimicked her movements.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring! Come on, put it on my finger! That ring, ring, ring! I’ll be your own personal singer! I want that thing to remind me every day that I’m yours!”
From the back of Ranko’s triangle, Aoi, Etsuko and Shika huddled together, with Aoi holding out her left pom-pom. Shika and Etsuko looked down at it, pulling their pom-poms up to their chins and wiggling around her as if squealing in excitement. In the outfield, Tanda and Ayame did the same with their smaller groups.
Yori, Tamiko, Kumiko and Momoe remained behind Ranko, continuing to dance with her in a chevron pattern, flanking her similarly to how Hitomi and Emi often did.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring, and I won’t take it off, never! That ring, ring, ring, so they know I’m yours forever! Don’t want you to be the thing I’m hiding from the world anymore!”
The five remaining girls continued moving counter-clockwise around the stage until Ranko faced first base as the infectious pop beat continued behind them. The song had not been written originally with a repetition of the first chorus, but they’d added one to the performance in order to give the choreography time to develop before the start of the second verse. When designing the dance and stage blocking, Ranko had wanted to ensure that no matter where someone was seated, they’d get a good show – she’d never performed while surrounded in all directions by the crowd before.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring! Come on, put it on my finger, that ring, ring, ring! I’ll be your own personal singer! I want that thing to remind me every day that I’m yours! Gimme that ring, ring, ring, and I won’t take it off, never! That ring, ring, ring, so they know I’m yours forever! Don’t want you to be the thing I’m hiding from the world anymore!”
Leaving Kumiko, Yori and Momoe to form a fourth triangle and completing the almost compass rose effect around the stage, Ranko and Tamiko jogged the last few meters to the original starting point of their orbit around the stage, between Yori’s triangle and Ayame’s. Ranko performed a single back handspring, launching into a single twist, and landing on the grass in a full split. Off of two handsprings, Tamiko propelled herself into a double twist over Ranko’s head, landing on her feet behind Ranko and facing her. Ranko stood and turned her back to the crowd, running at Tamiko before turning into another double handspring. She fired herself off of her hands, catapulting herself up at Tamiko. Much as Kou had done with Ranko at the Invitational, Tamiko boosted her higher in mid-air as she passed. Ranko executed a triple twist, landing facing right field in a superhero crouch on the stage between Shinji and Crash.
Not waiting for the crowd’s thundering roar to die down as Tamiko jogged back to the right to join the triangle her girlfriend led, Ranko popped up to her feet, letting her twin pigtails fly behind her as she snapped her head to the side.
“As we’ve gotten close, we’ve had our challenges without a doubt. But we’ve always talked it through together, got it sorted out; forgiven and forgotten all the stupid stuff in our past.”
As she sang, Ranko rocked her hips back and forth sassily, placing her left hand – still holding its sparkly red and silver pom-pom – on Crash’s chest. She stepped forward thrice, gently herding him backward to the middle of the round stage closer to Jacob and Ken.
“When we disagree, it’s like we’re takin’ turns at being wrong. Everytime we do and work it out, we’re gettin’ twice as strong. That’s the way I know this crazy thing we have’s gonna last!”
Ranko stepped forward to the edge of the stage, this time using her right arm on Shinji’s chest, reaching over his bass guitar and pushing him backward to join the rest of the band and clear the outer third of the stage in all directions for her to move.
“I knew long ago my answer would be yes! But if you wanna know, my love, just ask, don’t guess!”
The lone cheerleader on the stage stalked to her right along the newly-cleared edge of the stage. She’d dropped her pom-poms at Shinji’s feet, so she was now able to look at the fingers of her outstretched left hand, and the diamond sparkling on her hand that indicated Akane had already granted the song’s request.
Twice. With a third, and final, ring to come in just a matter of days.
Her ever-present silver bracelet swung ever so slightly on her wrist as she rocked her backside in time with the syncopated chorus. From their positions on the grass, the other thirteen cheerleaders mimicked her movements.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring! Come on, put it on my finger! That ring, ring, ring! I’ll be your own personal singer! I want that thing to remind me every day that I’m yours! Gimme that ring, ring, ring, and I won’t take it off! Never! That ring, ring, ring, so they know I’m yours forever! I don’t wanna be the thing you’re hiding from the world anymore!”
Ranko turned her back to the crowd behind home plate, swaying her ass slowly at them.
“Everybody said that I was way too wild and crazy.”
She twisted at the waist, facing toward them and covering her mouth as if her face was shocked by what her backside was doing.
“Everybody said that I could never be a lady! No one thought that they could tame me, but you went and you tried!”
The vocalist turned fully to the audience, shimmying with her arms in the air as if she were dancing in a tight crowd.
“Party every night, and always makin’ trouble at the bar. Wouldn’t let a soul get close, but baby, here you are. You made me a girlfriend somehow, now, come make me a bride!”
Thirty-two days, Ranko thought with a smile in the fraction of a second between lines as she again stared at her engagement ring on her outstretched hand. Thirty-two days until forever, Akane.
“I know this is nothing close to what we planned, but I won’t care at all when I look at my hand!”
Ranko hopped once on her toes, then jumped upward, tucking into a single backflip and landing on her feet in the same spot. All thirteen of her squadmates, in their own positions, did the same, and Ranko smiled proudly down at Kumiko as she stuck the landing. As she sang the chorus, her hips rocked almost violently between each utterance of the word ring, as if her backside was the clapper hanging in the center of a bell.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring! Come on, put it on my finger! That ring, ring, ring! I’ll be your own personal singer! I want that thing to remind me every day that I’m yours! Gimme that ring, ring, ring, and I won’t take it off! Never! That ring, ring, ring, so they know I’m yours forever! Don’t want us to be the thing we’re hiding from the world anymore!”
Ranko all but skipped ninety degrees in an arc around the stage to face the crowd on the third base line, continuing the same dance through the modified refrain for those who had yet to see it.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring! Tell everyone I’m taken! That ring, ring, ring, so nobody’s mistaken! Show me you’re not fakin’ when you tell me I’m the girl of your dreams!”
Orbiting her band a bit more until she faced right field, Ranko fanned her face with her hands as if she were flushed by a great surprise, as she’d seen women do when they won those stupid beauty contests Izumi loved to watch on TV.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring, and babe, I’ll let you bask in me! Ring, ring, ring, but you gotta get to askin’ me! If I don’t know it’s everlasting, gonna burst at the seams!”
She stalked around the stage, trying to affect a swaying walk even without the benefit of her usual chunky heels to force the movement. Sneakers are great for gymnastics, but they kinda suck for shakin’ ass. Ranko waved to the crowd with a bright smile as she finished the refrains to close the song, her fellow cheerleaders rocking side-to-side at their hips much as Ranko had done in the previous one.
“Gimme that ring, ring, ring! I know that you’re not gaming me! Ring, ring, ring, come on, and get to claiming me! Ring, ring, ring! I’m tired of going steady! Ring, ring, ring! Oh, baby, I’m so ready!”
Her orbit around the stage ended, Ranko turned toward her band, walking a few steps until she was within arm’s reach of Shinji and Crash. She reached out with both arms, grabbing each of them by the shirts and pulling them forward half a step as if adding even more force to her demand. As the boys stopped playing their instruments and put their hands up in surrender, she turned her head to the left, looking over her shoulder at the crowd.
“Gimme that ring!”
The synthesizer slammed once more in time with Ken’s thundering bass run, and the audience’s roar was deafening. Down on the grass, the remaining cheerleaders kicked their legs up and waved their pom-poms as they normally did after a performance at a sporting event.
Under Jacob’s command, the synthesizer roared back to life with a heavily-digitized beat as Ranko whirled to face the crowd, beaming with joy at the successful debut of Ring, Ring, Ring. As for the second song, the choreography had been easy to teach the cheerleaders, as Ranko and nine of her squadmates had won a trophy dancing to the same song not even six months ago.
“You ignite, and you… You ignite, and you… You ignite, and you RISE! RISE! Ri-ri-ri-ri-RISE!”