Hana sat at one of the round tables of her bar, poring over a nine-page document held together with a staple in the upper-left-hand corner. The youngest of her five daughters fidgeted in the chair next to her in a gray business suit consisting of a knee-length pencil skirt and matching blazer with an emerald green satin shirt, similar to the one she’d worn for her initial evaluation for her grades last December. The first time she’d been called Hana’s daughter. Between her nerves and the itchy fabric of the skirt on her hypersensitive skin, Ranko was struggling to sit still, but she did her best not to let anyone see.
As Hana read in silence, Ranko turned behind her to the only other table with anyone seated at it. The four members of her band sat around the table, looking around aimlessly. Nobody had made them dress up. Maybe none of them had fussy big sisters who insisted that they look professional for the meeting. Once Izumi finished her fashion design degree, she’d have a slew of pretty models at her disposal, and maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to dress her little sister up every chance she got. With a silent little chuckle under her breath, Ranko realized that she very much doubted it.
“You guys okay?”
Shinji just shrugged, catching the hacky sack he threw into the air. “Yeah, just bored.”
Ranko grinned, motioning with her neck toward the bar, where her blue-haired older sister flitted around preparing for the night’s service. “Why don’t you ask your girlfriend to make you a drink?”
Ranko’s bassist smirked. “Because then I’ll be buzzed, and still bored.”
“Okay, Ranko?” The young woman in the yellow blazer across the table from Ranko waited for her to turn back around in her seat. “What are we thinking of the terms?”
Blushing, Ranko smiled proudly at the matriarch of the Phoenix as she read the last page of the document. At least Izzi had dressed her in something appropriately uncomfortable, too. “Like I said, my mother is serving as our agent. We’re waiting for her thoughts.”
Hana flipped back to the front page of the document, setting it down and standing. She turned to face Ranko and the band together. “Okay. So, as best I can tell, this is looking pretty solid. You’ll all get a small bonus as an advance today when the contract is signed, and Yokai will put out more of the cassette singles for Rise now.
“Their staff songwriters will offer you other songs, and if you like them, you can perform them and they’ll be considered Dapper Dragons songs. Between those, and anything else you all write yourselves, the next nine songs you produce, plus Rise, will go on your first full-length album, which Yokai will produce and publish. You’ll need to film a music video for Rise and at least four of the other songs. Yokai’s got the equipment and the people to help with that. They get creative control of how the videos are done, but you will of course get input on how you want things.
“As for money, you get 2% each of the single and album sales, not counting the ones they already sold in the trial. Ranko, Crash and Shinji will get an extra 1% each because they’ve got the writer credits. Yokai gets 10% of any fees you’re paid for public performances that include the songs from the album for the next two years.”
Crash nodded. “Seems fair to me. Guys?”
Jacob put his hand up. “What about sales of guest of honor?”
Hana blinked in confusion. “Uh, what?”
Crash leaned over to Jacob, and the pair whispered back and forth for a moment. When they finished, Jacob turned back to Hana, blushing. “Sorry. Sales of merchandise.” The Australian was fairly conversational in Japanese, but less-common words still threw him sometimes.
Hana smiled. “Ah! Got it. They have the right to produce merchandise for the songs and use your logos, pictures, stuff like that. You get 10%, so 2% for each of you, of anything they sell. If you produce your own, they get 10% of that.”
A round of shrugs and nods of assent came from the four young men around the table.
The Yokai Records representative stood, adjusting her blazer over her white blouse. “So, thoughts? Questions?”
Crash gave a nonchalant grin. “I’m good.” Ranko saw right through it. He was over the moon to finally have a published song after all his years of practice and toil.
Ken nodded, drumming on the table nervously with his fingers. “Works for me.”
Shinji slipped his hacky sack into the left pocket of his black leather jacket, leaning back a little in his chair. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
Jacob nodded with a bob of his neon green fauxhawk, a little hesitant to speak again after his gaffe.
Hana turned to her daughter, smiling down at her proudly. “Then it’s just down to you, baby. Are you ready?”
Ranko smiled warmly up at the woman who had changed her life. Who had given her a job, purpose, a home, and the encouragement to allow herself to dream and then chase those dreams. Just ten months ago, she’d been homeless, friendless and hungry, and now, she was a signature away from being a bona fide pop star. Ranko wondered if she’d ever be able to do enough for her to show the depths of her gratitude. “If you say it’s fair, mom, I trust you.”
Hana beamed with pride. It still made her happy that Ranko called her that. Not even mama like the other girls did, but mom. It was like Ranko wasn’t just acknowledging that Hana behaved like a mother, but that she had replaced her biological mother entirely in her mind. Of course, Ranko had never known any other mother.
“Then, I suppose let’s get some pens and make this thing official! Miss Uyehara?”
The woman in the yellow blazer stood. “Excellent!” She laid five copies of the nine-page document on the table, and each of the young men took one. Ranko picked up the last one, sitting down next to Crash, and the representative from the record company leaned over the chair to Ranko’s left with her own copy of the contract. Each person signed their name and then passed the contract to the person on their left. There was a bit of a delay in the cadence when the contracts reached Ranko, however. Her hand quivered as she carefully wrote her name, as neatly as she could. Her penmanship still had a lot to be desired, and in her mind, that was a trait of guys who didn’t care how things looked as long as the job got done. Something inside of her wanted this document to look like it had been a real girl who had signed it. Each time Ranko signed a copy of the document, there was a bright flash for a half-second followed by a click and a mechanical whir as Mei snapped another Polaroid from behind the bar.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The agent smiled, folding her copy of the contract once vertically and putting it in the inside pocket of her yellow blazer. “Well, that does it! Welcome to the Yokai family!” She pulled a folder from her black leather attache case, opening it and producing five checks that she distributed to each of the band members. Ranko slipped hers into the narrow pocket on her right hip.
Izumi made her way around the bar, quite slowly at seven months pregnant, carrying the camera. “Okay, everybody, let’s get a shot of the whole band!” The four young men and Ranko piled together, smiling and posing for the photo. Yui let out a little whoop, watching her sister and her friends celebrate their incredible accomplishment.
Ranko’s eyes moved between her three youngest sisters. They deserve to be a part of this, too. Their support, and their encouragement, made this happen. Hell, if Mei hadn’t put that microphone in my hand, I doubt I’d have ever set foot on that stage. Everyone in the world that had been a part of her journey to this moment was there.
Nearly everyone, anyway. Ranko knew that Akane had an exam today she couldn’t get out of, but with all the struggles between them lately, she really wished her girlfriend could have found a way to be there. Their relationship was a secret publicly, and Ranko was learning to deal with that, but here, in what was all but her family’s home, she wanted the woman she loved by her side for one of the most important days of her life. There was an aching disappointment that just wouldn’t go back in its box.
“Guys, you have fun. I gotta do… I just need a minute.” Ranko slipped behind the bar as her bandmates waved and pushed through the saloon doors, making for the stairs on her right that led up to the tiny apartment that had been her home for most of the last ten months. She left the door open a crack, sitting on the foot of the bed with her arms around the enormous pink teddy bear she’d left on the bed when she moved out.
She had only been alone with her thoughts for a few minutes before Hana pushed open the door to the upstairs apartment. “Baby, what’s going on? Are you okay? You should be down there celebrating with the guys. This is everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Ranko scooted over on the bed and tossed the gray blazer she’d already removed up toward the head of the bed to make room for Hana to sit next to her. “I know, mama. And I am excited, really. I’m just sad, too. Sometimes I wish I’d never left here. Somehow, when I was here, everything just made more sense, ya know? Like there was always a box full of answers under the bed.”
The matriarch of the Phoenix’ little clan smiled. “That’s the sort of thing that happens when you’re surrounded by older people who love you and can give you good advice. But you know you don’t have to sleep here for that to happen, kiddo. Talk to me. What’s going on? Is there trouble with you and Akane?” She put her arm around Ranko’s shoulders.
“No. And also yes.” Ranko sighed sadly. “Mama, when I’m alone with her, it’s like magic. I’ve never been so happy in my life. I love her more than I thought it was possible to love another person. She makes me feel pretty and loved and appreciated. She makes me want to be better all the time. Like what you and the girls do, but even more. When she touches me, oh my gods, Mom, it’s indescribable. But, as soon as we go out the door, it’s like I don’t exist. She won’t tell anyone about us, and she pretends like she doesn’t even know me in front of her friends.”
Hana nodded, rubbing her back. Yui had told her a little about this. “How does that make you feel?”
Her youngest charge looked up, her eyes welling. “Disgusting. Wrong. Unwanted. I know she has everything to lose. I know she has every reason to do what she’s doing, and I want to be so mad at her and I can’t, because I know she’s doing what she thinks she has to. We even agreed to it, back when we first started dating. But the closer we get, the prouder I am of her, and of us, and I don’t care what people think anymore. I don’t care if some people can’t deal with it. All I want is to be hers, mom, and it’s breaking my heart that she won’t let me.”
“Have you told her all of this?” Hana squeezed her daughter’s hand with her right hand, her left still draped over her shoulder.
“I can’t. I’ve tried. I get so sad and I just walk away. I don’t want to be angry with her. I don’t want to fight with her. Like I said, she isn’t doing anything wrong. She’s doing what we agreed we’d do from the beginning, and I don’t feel like I have any right to complain. I just… the more I’m with her, the more I want. I’ve tried everything, mom. I’m working so hard. I’ve tried cheerleading, learning to cook, taking care of the apartment, everything with the music. I barely even sleep anymore. Would you believe I’m making fours and fives in all my classes except math? Me?! What more do I have to do to make her proud of me, mama?”
Hana smiled, brushing a wisp of her daughter’s bright red hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. “I would believe it, actually. Your brains were never the problem, you just needed space to actually learn the stuff. I’m thrilled that you were able to get back into school and experience a little of it before you graduate. As for the rest of it, I’m sure she’s proud of you, baby. I see it in her face. Maybe her issue isn’t you, it’s other people who are putting pressure on her?”
Ranko sighed, leaning into Hana’s body. “What do I do, mom? How do I tell her that I know she’s not wrong, but what she’s doing doesn’t feel right either, and not hurt her?”
Patting her youngest daughter’s hand, Hana sighed thoughtfully. “One of the hardest lessons to accept about being in a relationship with someone is the fact that you’re going to hurt each other. It’s inevitable. Around the people you love, you let down all your defenses, so every time they do even the slightest thing wrong, it’s going to cut a little deeper. Love is all about trusting them to do the right thing most of the time, and trusting them to listen when they don’t and you need something to change. It’s about knowing deep down that if a person really loves you, they are going to hurt you all the time, but trusting that they never mean to. If you can reach that point with her, then everything else that can go wrong is a misunderstanding that can be fixed with a little conversation. Let me ask you this, baby. Do you think Akane wants to hurt you?”
Ranko shook her head. “No. Never.”
“Do you want to hurt her?”
Again, Ranko shook her head, gently against her mother’s body. “I’d rather die than hurt her, mama.”
Hana nodded, stroking her daughter’s hair soothingly. “So, if you were to do something that hurt her, not meaning to, would you want her to tell you, so you could figure out how to stop? Or would you want her to keep it to herself and keep letting you hurt her?”
Ranko managed a little smile of understanding. “I’d want her to tell me. And you’re saying I should do the same.”
Hana smiled, kissing the top of her daughter’s head as it rested against her side under her arm. “That’s my girl.”
“But…” Ranko sighed. “How do I make sure that telling her doesn’t hurt her? How do I let her know that no matter what happens, I love her and I don’t ever want to lose her? I hate being her secret, but at least it’s better than not being hers at all, you know?”
The elder woman squeezed her daughter around the shoulders again. “Maybe do something really special for her first? Show her that you’re still happy with her, but that you need this one thing to get fixed?”
Ranko gasped with the formation of an idea and sat up, giving her adoptive mother a tight hug. “You’re a genius, mama. I don’t know what I’d do without you!”
Hana smiled, pulling her daughter’s head toward herself and kissing her on the forehead, not minding the chalky taste of Izumi’s foundation souring her lips a little. “And you’ll never have to.”
Standing, Ranko bounded down the stairs, looking for one of her sisters. “Izzi! I need your help! We have a shopping emergency!”