“And I won’t miss the way that you kiss me. We were never carved in stone…”
The television blared in the tiny living room of Ranko and Akane’s apartment, blasting her favorite music video channel at near the small set’s maximum volume. Ranko had really enjoyed having the television since receiving it as a Christmas gift from Hana, even though she didn’t have an awful lot of time to sit and watch it. It made for a better radio than her Walkman, and it didn’t run on batteries she had to keep remembering to replace.
She’d already started dinner in the slow cooker, and both the washer and dryer churned merrily about their tasks as well. She’d gotten the bed made, but had only just started on the kitchen. Akane had taken care of cleaning the bathroom last night. Ranko was really grateful that her lover was pitching in more with the chores, but a part of her almost wished she wouldn’t; she wanted to take care of everything for Akane, even though her body and her schedule didn’t always cooperate with those goals.
“And I’ll tell myself I’m over you, ‘cause I’m the king of wishful thinking…”
Wearing a pair of yellow rubber gloves to keep the cold water from reaching her skin, Ranko continued working on clearing the dishes from breakfast. One plate at a time. I’ve got this. She picked up a loofa on a short stick and set about removing the remnants of tamagoyaki from the topmost square cerulean bowl.
I wish our bowls were red, so they matched our plates. It looks so disjointed on the table.
She placed the first rinsed plate in the dishwasher, shaking her head and hiding half of her face with her rubber-clad right hand. Did I really just care about place settings? Who are you, Ranko? When did you become so domesticated?
Half-tempted to try and use the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique to speed up the process, she plodded through rinsing and loading the flatware as quickly as she could. I shouldn’t do that; I broke a glass last time I tried.
The television continued blasting the upbeat song, which she had really liked since hearing it in the Pretty Woman soundtrack when Akane took her to see it a few weeks ago. “That you have made a hole in my heart, and now, I’ve got to fool myself…”
Ranko started the dishwasher just as the song ended, looking around as she peeled the rubber gloves from her hands and draped them over the handle of the oven to dry. What next, what next… the floor, I guess.
The aspirational synthesized brass of the next song poured from the little television speaker, and Ranko grinned weakly. But first, I need a minute.
She flopped down onto the couch. She was exhausted. Between rehearsing the new song she’d been working on with the band, the studio work for Sneak, work, homework, and frantic final preparations for her cheerleading competition, she was as tired as she’d been before she lost an argument with the pizza oven and had to drop her homeschool courses.
Ranko reached behind the end table, picking up the guitar Crash had bought her for Christmas and looping its strap over her neck. The repetitive and relatively simple core rhythm of the song made for great practice. Slipping the plastic pick from its place weaved between three of the strings, she tried to play along with just the notes of the chorus. She sang quietly along with the television and her guitar, trying to use the instrument with which she was most comfortable to hold her pitch.
“It’s the final countdown… whoaaa… we’re heading for Venus, and still we stand tall…”
She knew she had no chance at the huge guitar solo that made up the bridge and didn’t try, but she moved her fingers over the strings without plucking them, pretending as if she were.
Re-engaging the strings as the familiar rhythm restarted, she cringed at a misplayed note, but only skipped two beats before catching back up with the song.
Completing her very rough attempt to play along with only a few more missed notes, Ranko removed the guitar strap from her shoulder and returned her guitar to its place leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh as her thoughts returned to her chores. Today, not even the stream of upbeat music videos could keep her going. She’d kill for an energy drink right about now, but Akane wouldn’t let her buy them at home. If you’re tired, sleep, she said. Like that was always an option. That said, she knew that if she spent another two or three minutes idle on that couch, Akane would come home to find her passed out there, still in her green nightshirt and a pair of white panties, and she wouldn’t be finished with everything she’d promised to have done by then.
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“That was The Final Countdown from Europe, and before that, King of Wishful Thinking, by Go West,” the host of the music video programming hour said, turning to his co-hostess with a grin. “Man, King of Wishful Thinking is really storming up the charts, isn’t it, Yoko?”
The stunning brunette on the television turned to her cohort, adjusting her sunglasses and crossing her legs in the beach chair she sat in. “It sure is, Isao! But we’ve got another one that’s really rising as well coming up next! This up-and-coming band out of Tokyo just came out of nowhere, and their first single just shows no sign of slowing down. Here’s Rise, from Ranko and the Dapper Dragons, on Bangers on the Beach!”
Ranko sat up like a rocket on the couch.
“Alone, with no place left that you call home…”
The redhead sat mesmerized, watching a closeup shot of herself singing the first verse, her eyes wide. Is this really happening right now?
Crash and everybody looked fierce, and she looked… dirty, she noted with a laugh. That fucking dirt, man.
“Your heart still remembers the smoldering embers! The fire was in you all along!”
Yuji had been right; cutting the shots of Hitomi’s legs and the fire in had really been convincing.
It was such a surreal experience. She’d expected the video for Rise to look amateur somehow. She knew every little thing they’d done to fake something for a shot, every camera trick and mistake that was made, and she’d thoroughly been prepared for the video to look like something she shot with Kage’s home movie camera, that would be embarrassing next to the production quality of the American videos. To her shock, it looked like it belonged, as if the song, and the band that produced it, had a rightful place among the hits of the day. She was still coming to terms with the fact that she sometimes got recognized at the grocery store, and here she and her friends were getting sandwiched between Europe and freaking Madonna, and not looking at all like they didn’t deserve to be there.
“You have grown, but no one gets there on their own, and when you think that you’re alone, it’s the ones you love that are thinking of new ways to remind you…”
She sang along with herself as she watched, and as she did, a brightness returned to her eyes. Sure, she was beat, and she was broke, and she still felt a little like somebody had taken a crowbar to her ribs from her last attempt at the quadruple twist. But she had also gotten Akane back on the volleyball team, and she had a plan for fixing some of the other things Sneak had broken, much as she was not looking forward to implementing it. She’d gotten herself out from under Eiji, and was working on her sixth, seventh, and eighth new songs. She had the love of six sisters - her own four and Akane’s two - and Hana as well. She grinned, looking down at her left hand. And I get to be Akane’s forever. Whatever that looks like.
“Burn like a demon to earn what you’re dreamin! The Phoenix inside never dies!”
Even on the hard days – even when the floor needed sweeping and she didn’t have the energy to do it – she was living her dream.
“You ignite, and you RISE,” she sang along with herself on the couch with a bright giggle.
“I’ve gotta tell you, Isao,” the hostess in the beach scene said on the television as the video ended. “I can’t wait to see what else Ranko Tendo and her band put out. I just freaking love the energy that kid has. You can just tell, watching her sing, that she loves what she’s doing.”
Ranko blushed, kicking back on the couch with a satisfied sigh. It’s happening. Somehow. I can’t believe it.
Her blissful daydream was interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock, and Ranko quickly hopped up and pressed the power button on the television, rushing over to the door. The second Akane stepped foot into the apartment, Ranko was on her, wrapping her arms around her fiancee.
“Whoa! What’s all this about,” Akane asked, blushing as she returned the hug.
Ranko nuzzled against Akane’s shoulder, kissing the side of her neck. After a moment, she released the hug and pulled her hands to her chest, leaning into Akane’s chest and letting her lover’s arms envelop her. “I’m just… happy.”
Squeezing her tight and rocking her a little, Akane smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad, baby. Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
The redhead giggled. “Enough to forgive me for not getting the floor swept before you got home?”
“I don’t know,” Akane said, lifting the smaller girl off the ground with a smicker and sitting her on the dining table. “That’s an awfully serious infraction.”
“I’m sorry, sensei,” Ranko said, lowering her eyes in mock shame, a playful twinkle still radiating from her eyes. “Please don’t be too harsh with me.”
“Miss Tendo, I’m afraid I have no choice.” Akane picked the slender redhead up again, tossing her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carrying her toward the open bedroom door. “I’m clearly going to have to teach you a lesson.”