Ranko smiled, leaning back on the blue-and-yellow plaid blanket. It was such a perfect day. The November air was crisp but comfortable, the grass beneath the blanket was soft, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky – hence the decision to set up the blanket beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree in the common quad of Minato University.
She was so proud of Akane today. After weeks of disappointment at her separation from the volleyball team, she’d finally decided to try a new extracurricular activity – but this one was very different. For one, Akane herself was leading it.
Today was the first official class of the Minato chapter of the now-only remaining branch of the School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts.
At first, Akane had offered to have Ranko teach, or at least assist, but she’d refused. “This isn’t my thing anymore, baby, it’s yours now,” she’d said. If she wasn’t the master, then Ranko was a student, and there was no one on Earth she’d rather follow than Akane.
No, today she was there in the only role she wanted – that of supportive girlfriend. She’d made it a point to dress the part, in her purple crushed velvet shirt and black pleated miniskirt. To Akane’s surprise, Ranko had even put her hair up in twin pigtails with purple ribbons. She knew she shouldn’t announce herself as Akane’s girlfriend, but she wanted Akane to know that the redheaded girl watching from the picnic blanket in the shade was her own personal cheerleader nonetheless. And, admittedly, she couldn’t help but notice the way it made Akane squirm when she put her hair up like that, and she kind of liked it.
Akane stood in the grass, barefoot, shining in the sun in her cream-colored gi. Ranko had seen her like that a thousand times before. Sparred with her about that many times. Been concussed by her probably close to that many times. But she’d never looked so beautiful, so strong, or so fierce in it as she did today, to Ranko’s eyes. Gods, I love that girl.
As three o’clock struck, Ranko looked around, waiting for people to show up. She’d helped Akane plaster the school with flyers advertising the first free lesson for a few days now, and was hopeful for a good turnout. For the first three or four minutes, there was no one at all. But one by one, seven boys made their way to the little grassy alcove in the quad. Not great, Ranko thought, but still a bigger class than Pop or Mr. Tendo ever managed. There were, to Ranko’s surprise, no girls.
“Okay!” Akane bowed to the group of potential students after giving the stragglers a few minutes to arrive. “Welcome! My name’s Akane Tendo, and I’ll be…”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” One of the boys, a tall beanpole of a fellow with blonde hair and an earring in his right ear, rolled his eyes. “You’re a kid. And a girl. What could you possibly teach us?”
From her blanket, Ranko winced. Push back, Akane. You got this.
“Excuse me?” Akane glowered. “I’ve been training in the martial arts since I was four years old. I am a master of the School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts.” Ranko smiled proudly. It was such a relief to not hear the word Saotome. Suck on that, old man.
“Yeah?” A second boy, a redhead with freckles, shook his head. “How many classes have you taught before?”
Akane gulped. “Um, this is actually my first public class.”
The blonde boy chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what we thought. Just a fuckin’ tomboy playing at being a fighter.”
Ranko watched sadly as Akane shook with rage and embarrassment. It reminded her, quite painfully, of all the times she’d said something all-too-similar, back in the days when Ranma Saotome was alive. She waited for Akane to do as she’d always done back then, and clobber the guy into next week. He more than deserved it.
But Akane swallowed it professionally, forced a smile, and continued. “For our first lesson, I thought we’d focus on blocking. It’s important to be able to defend yourself, before you set out to attack someone else.”
“Oh,” the redheaded boy said. “So, cowering as a martial art. Great! I feel like a badass already.”
Ranko growled. She could not stand this anymore. She could wipe the floor with all seven of those guys in a second if she had to, and so could Akane. But she knew Akane wouldn’t do it. As the sensei, Akane had to appear unflappable. Serene. In command of herself.
But only Akane had that responsibility.
Putting on the widest, cutest stage smile she could manage, Ranko left her shady little picnic blanket and flitted herself down to where Akane stood with a little skip in her step. She took a place in line next to the blonde boy, and Akane’s eyes bulged. What the hell is she up to?
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Ranko put her hands to her sides, bowing formally to Akane. “I am so sorry I’m late, sensei. Cheerleading practice ran long. You know how it is.” Come on, kid, take the bait.
“Great,” the blonde groaned. “So this is a martial art for little pigtailed girls. Forget this. I’m outta here.”
Checkmate, asshole, Ranko thought to herself. The fact that he’d called her a pigtailed girl was just the icing on the cake.
“Well, I mean, I know I’m just a girl and all, so between that and our silly obscure martial arts style nobody’s ever heard of, you’ll have no trouble at all beating me in a spar, right?” Ranko giggled.
The blonde laughed, turning to his freckled friend. “Friggin’ pathetic. You wanna do this, or should I?”
Ranko smirked cutely. “Oh, no need to choose, boys. I’d hate for one of you to feel left out.”
Akane laughed quietly, shaking her head. Oh, Ranko, I love you. And boys… are you in for it now.
Ranko took a weak fighting stance, deliberately choosing a poor form. Almost immediately, the redheaded boy came at her with a wild high kick which Akane expected her to easily block.
Instead, her girlfriend let out a terrified shriek, taking two steps back. “Oh, no, mister guy, sir, please don’t hurt me!” Ranko clasped her hands in front of herself, staring at him pleadingly. Come on, boys. Anybody else gonna join in, or are we ready to dance?
The blonde boy laughed. “What a fucking joke.”
“C…Can I try?” Ranko affected a nervous shudder.
Again, the blonde laughed. “Sure. This oughta be cute.”
Ranko smirked, taking one running step from her relaxed standing position, leaping at the blonde. She spun backward into a kick, striking her opponent hard in the cheek. She pushed off of the blonde’s face with her leg as she made contact, using the momentum of her strike to launch herself to the left. A flying punch sent the unsuspecting freckled boy to his back before Ranko’s feet touched the ground again.
“Omigods!” Ranko giggled cutely as both boys writhed on the ground. “Just lucky, I guess! Wanna try again?”
Akane covered her face with her hand. She didn’t want the rest of the class to see her laughing.
The boys both clamored to their feet, and the blonde spoke first. “Okay, you wanna play for real, huh? You got it, girlie!” He charged at her, and as he threw a hard punch at her face, she crouched under it, using her shoulder to carry his momentum in a fluid aikido motion and throw him over herself. Before he could land, she thrust her leg backward, kicking him in the small of his back and sending him flying another two meters.
As Ranko focused on the redhead, another of the boys, a short twenty-something with black hair in a fauxhawk, ran at her from the side just out of her field of vision. Normally, Akane would warn her, but she just stood there, her arms crossed, enjoying the show. She’s got this.
Ranko didn’t turn her head at all, staring down the redheaded challenger. “Oh, excuse me, sir, I think you dropped something.” She jutted her elbow out to her right side, bracing her fist with the palm of her left hand to direct its force. It struck the running guy with the fauxhawk in his sternum at his full gallop, as he made no effort to defend himself because he thought he had the element of surprise.
“Here, let me pick it up for you!”
As the boy with the fauxhawk collapsed to the ground gasping for breath, Ranko grabbed him by the scruff of his cut-off denim jacket, throwing him at the redhead and bowling them both over.
Only now did Ranko take a true fighting stance, crouching low and cocking both of her arms in a deadly-looking form. Her arms were drawn tight, shaking with potential energy. “Well? Who’s next? Anybody?”
The blonde hobbled back from the tree he’d crashed into with a pained expression, doubled over and putting pressure on his sore back with his left hand. “Good gods, that girl is ridiculous.”
Ranko turned to face him with a wide grin, crossing her ankles and gripping the hem of her skirt. She bent her knees, giving the boy a deep curtsey as if she were a ballerina. “Why, thank you, sir.”
Girl power, bitches. Eat it.
She straightened her legs, turning her eyes to her amused girlfriend. “And if you think I’m good…” The mocking sneer faded from Ranko’s face, and a sincere smile of encouragement and respect took its place. “Sensei Tendo taught me everything I know about being a true martial artist.”
The four boys who hadn’t fought Ranko rushed up to Akane. “Please, how do we sign up? Will you teach us?!”
Ranko looked at the back of her hand with a mock scoff, smiling over her outstretched fingers to Akane. Love you, baby. Now you take it from here. “Sensei? May I please be excused? It seems you have a beginner’s class to teach, and I have an emergency. I think I chipped a nail.”
Akane could only laugh quietly to herself. “Of course, Ranko.”
Ranko bowed deeply. “Thank you, sensei.”