Ranko sat in the grass, watching her squadmates practice. They still weren’t letting her participate in stunts, and today wasn’t a practice to work on choreography, so she didn’t have much to do. She was supposed to be working on learning the various chants and cheers they did for the sundry sports and pep rallies, but she wasn’t much in the mood. She was still somewhat lost in thought over Akane, and besides, the whole rah-rah thing was an effeminate bridge too far, even for a singer who lived in chunky heels and bodycon dresses of late. She cringed as she thought about it, realizing she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a pair of pants. Then, she cringed about that, realizing that even though she had been in exclusively skirts and dresses for weeks, it hadn’t bothered her enough to notice at all.
Popping a bubble she’d blown with her watermelon-flavored gum, she watched as the pyramid of girls collapsed for the… well, she’d lost count of how many times. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t gotten one killed yet with the number of times the cheerleaders dropped each other on their heads. This time, though, where normally a heap of discombobulated prima donnas was hilarious, something was off. There was a loud yelp that came from somewhere at the bottom of the pile, and as the girls detangled, it became apparent that one of them wasn’t getting up.
“Kotone, are you okay?” Shiori knelt beside the girl, who was fighting back tears.
“It’s my ankle,” the crumpled brunette said. Shiori tried to help her to her feet, but the injured girl was unable to put weight on her leg at all. She and another of the cheerleaders, a shorter girl with purple pigtails named Tamiko, helped her to a nearby bench. There they began taking her shoe off to check on the extent of the damage.
Shiori left Kotone in the care of the other cheerleader, walking over to the girl sitting alone in the grass. “Hey, Ranko. So, it looks like we’re a girl short. Ready to come off the bench?”
The redhead popped up to her feet. “If you want.” She motioned to the bench with her neck. “Kotone gonna be okay?”
“Just a sprain, I think,” Shiori said with a hopeful glance back at the bench where the injured girl sat. “You ever done stunts like this before? I never thought to ask.”
Ranko stood, shrugging. “Something like.” The stuff she’d done in her martial arts career would have turned these girls’ hair white, and she was frankly a little resentful that they hadn’t given her the chance to prove herself before benching her. The stunts and the cheers were the price she paid for the performing, and not her favorite part of the whole cheerleading thing at all, but if she was going to do it, the last thing she wanted was to look like the girl who couldn’t cut it.
“Mind subbing in? You can take side base, it’s easiest.” Shiori pointed to a spot where the girls had been building their formations.
“You mean the girl that gets stepped on? Sorry, I don’t know the terms.”
Shiori laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “I swear, we’ve got to teach you some of the basics before the competition. But, basically, yeah.”
Brushing the grass from the back of her skirt, Ranko smirked confidently. “What do you call the girl that gets thrown up in the air?”
“The flier.” Shiori shook her head. Maybe recruiting this girl was a mistake after all. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing. “But usually, fliers are the girls with the most stunt experience. It’s dangerous if you aren’t trained for it.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Yeah? Let me try.” Ranko stretched her arms behind her head.
Shiori sighed. If Ranko were going to be performing her song at the competition, they’d have to get her front and center somehow. She supposed she’d have to make some allowances. “Alright, but let’s take it slow.” She motioned one of the taller girls, a stocky blonde named Kou, over to join them.
“Let’s start with something really basic. Kou’s gonna lift you up and put you on her shoulders. She’ll move her hands on your hips to let you know she’s ready, and then you jump at the same time she lifts, to help her. You got that?”
“Sure. I’ll take a whack at it.” Ranko cracked her knuckles. She hadn’t gotten to train like this since back at the dojo. Maybe this is going to be fun after all.
The blonde motioned her over. “Let’s do this.” She put her hands on Ranko’s hips, and the redhead blushed a little bit. Having another girl holding her from behind like that made her think of Akane, and for a split second, before Kou gave her the little warning bounce, Ranko felt as if she might be doing something wrong by letting another girl put her hands on her at all.
Ranko jumped upward, and Kou barely had to do anything for her to clear the nearly two meters to Kou’s shoulders. Kou took a firm grip of her ankles as Ranko stood atop her. “Okay, now what?”
Shiori smiled. Maybe she can be taught after all. “Normally in this position, we just do some claps, chants, stuff like that. Then, to dismount, Kou will let go of your ankles, and you’ll take her hands and she’ll lift you down.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if I just jumped down?” Ranko shrugged. She didn’t understand why the girls made this so much more complicated than it needed to be.
Kou laughed. “That’s a long way to just hop.”
“Let go of my ankles, I’ll show ya.” Ranko’s voice had taken on a tone with a little bit of sass in it.
“Your funeral.” Kou released Ranko’s ankles from her grip, and as she did, Ranko popped up off of her shoulders, trying not to kick off too hard and hurt her. She tucked into a forward roll before uncurling and landing on her feet. “See? No problem!”
A chorus of whoas came from the other cheerleaders, who had assembled to watch the new girl get broken in.
Shiori laughed, blushing. We’re gonna win for sure. “Okay, you didn’t tell us you were a gymnast, too!”
Ranko shrugged. “Ya didn’t ask. Wanna see some more?” The dozen girls assembled to the side whooped excitedly.
Taking a few steps of a running start, Ranko dove forward into a handspring, then a second, and launched herself off the ground with her arms, tucking into a backward roll before landing on the roof of the equipment storage shed on one leg. She admonished herself not to take the instinctual kung fu crane form with her arms as she landed. From there, she hopped about a meter into the air, tucking her body tight into a ball and making three full forward rolls before landing softly on her feet, her knees bending slightly to absorb the shock. Still got it, she thought to herself with a wide grin.
“Holy hell,” a black-haired sophomore named Yori marveled.
“So,” Ranko asked, turning back toward Shiori. “Did I get the job, captain?”
Shiori’s eyes were wide as saucers as she nodded in silence.
“How do you even do that, Ranko?” Yori walked over, looking over Ranko’s legs as if searching for the bionic implants.
Ranko turned to her, smiling brightly. “I’ll be happy to teach you. All of you. If it’s okay with our captain, that is.” She knew she didn’t need to wait for an answer.
Well, it’s not exactly a dojo, Ranko thought to herself. But, such as it is, welcome to the Tendo School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts. Class is in session, ladies.