Ranko tittered loudly as Akane pulled her into the crosswalk by her hand. “Hey! Where are you even taking me?”
Akane smirked back at her as they reached the opposite sidewalk. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll see.” She could feel her fiancee’s hand trembling slightly. It was a chilly early February morning and the Cat’s Tongue offered Ranko no reprieve from the cold, even in her white peacoat and long-sleeved blue dress.
Having little choice, Ranko followed along as she was led down the sidewalk, craning her neck to look in every shop window as she tried to guess what Akane had planned for her. Her hopes soared when they passed a fantastic-smelling sidewalk cafe, but Akane led her past it without slowing. Three doors down, though, Akane opened a glass door, setting off a little electric chime to alert the proprietors that they had customers.
Ranko looked around in a bit of confusion.The place looked like it might have been a clothing store once, but it looked as if the whole store was having laundry day. Nearly nothing was on hangers, and there were piles of clothes on tables everywhere, some folded, some not. Along the far wall, piles of purses and shoes with orange zip ties connecting like pairs were heaped onto tables and metal shelves. There was a slight musty smell to the place, and it was jammed so full that if there were any employees present, Ranko could not find them.
“Akane… what is this place?”
The larger girl shook her head, wrapping her arms around Ranko and rubbing her back vigorously to help her warm up. “It’s a store, silly.”
“It doesn’t look like any store Izzi ever took me to…”
“That’s because Izzi took you to fancy places. This is a second-hand shop. It’s a little less organized and you’re getting stuff that maybe didn’t fit somebody anymore or whatever, but it’s a great way to get a bunch of stuff for cheap.”
“I thought you said you wanted me to get a new dress. What do I need a bunch of stuff for?” Ranko blushed. This was sounding like a much bigger commitment than she’d agreed to a few days ago, before she’d sprained her ankle at the Invitational.
Akane shook her head. “Come on, Ranko. You know you only have like 20 outfits, right? You need options, girl.”
Ranko shrugged. “If you say so. What am I looking for?” As with every shopping trip her sister had taken her on, she smiled nervously as she awaited the exacting parameters for her search according to whatever occasion or need the outfit was being purchased for.
Akane shook her head, smiling broadly. “That part’s the surprise.”
Rolling her eyes, Ranko shaked her head with an amused scoff. “Baby, how am I supposed to pick something out if I don’t know what I’m looking for?”
Squeezing her hand, Akane flashed her a reassuring grin. “You’ve been doing this a while now. You know what sorts of things you like.” Akane squeezed her hand. “Pretty much everything you have is either hand-me-downs or stuff Izzi picked for you. You have maybe two outfits you picked for yourself. I want you to have what you want.”
Ranko’s crimson face darted around the room. The mounds of clothing had become much more intimidating all of a sudden. “Sure, but like, am I looking for a dress, or a shirt, or, what?”
Scanning the room to ensure no one could see them in the corner of the cluttered store, Akane leaned in and gave her love a kiss on her cheek. “Whatever. You. Want. Anything you’d look cute in. Anything you think would be comfortable. I don’t care what it is. I want you to get whatever will make you feel good about yourself, whether it’s one thing or twenty.”
“But, like, is this for work, or a date night, or… Akane, I’m confused. I don’t know where to start.”
Akane sighed gently, lacing her fingers between Ranko’s. “Gods, how do I say this…” She looked around the room for a moment as if the words she wanted were hidden between the pounds of second-hand clothes. When she resumed speaking, her voice was lowered to nearly a whisper.
“Ranko, I know you’re used to people doing this for you. Telling you what to wear. What to be. It’s been so long since you’ve let yourself just want something. I want you to be able to get excited about it. It’s like when we’re talking to Izzi about the wedding, and you keep saying whatever Akane wants to anything. You’re allowed to have wants, too, baby.”
“It’s not that. I just…” Ranko’s face flushed, and she bit her lip a bit, turning her eyes from her love ashamedly.
Akane bobbed her head softly in understanding. “You think it’s weird to want this kind of stuff, don’t you? Like, dresses, stuff for your hair, wedding stuff, things like that.”
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Ranko nodded, saying nothing.
Akane shook her head, squeezing Ranko’s hand again. “There’s no reason for that, baby. You’re a girl. You’re allowed to like feminine things. You’re allowed to take pride in yourself. It’s not weird, and there’s no reason to be ashamed of it. It’s perfectly normal for you to have things you like, that you like how they look on you, how they feel on you, all of that. I told you ages ago, if you want to be cute, get cute things. If you want to be a little more tomboyish, then get those kinds of things. Or, have some of each so you can wear whatever you’re in the mood for.” Akane gently stroked the back of Ranko’s still-chilled cheek with her fingertips. “I want you to be your own girl, whatever that means.”
Ranko took a step closer, hugging Akane a bit nervously. “What if I feel safer just being your girl?”
With a chuckle, Akane kissed her cheek again. “You always will be, beautiful, but the happier you make yourself, the happier you can make me.”
“Alright, well, what do you think would be good?” Ranko grinned, hanging on to her arm.
Akane shook her head, gesturing as if locking her lips and throwing away the key. “The whole point is for you to pick. I’ll be right here.” She gave her lover a little nudge forward on her backside.
Ranko blushed, standing amid the racks and looking around, an overwhelmed sigh escaping her lips. This is so much easier when somebody else picks, even when I don’t always like what they pick.
She first made her way to a table piled high with what looked like pants, but they seemed to be made of the wrong material; they were somewhat stretchy. She held a green pair up to Akane, shrugging. “These pants are weird.”
Giggling, Akane shook her head. “They’re leggings. You wear them under skirts to keep your legs warm.”
Ranko blinked. That’s an option? She picked up two black pairs and a white one in addition to the green she already held, checking the sizes to ensure they would all work for her.
Akane motioned her over. “Here, let me be your shopping cart, so you have your hands free to look around.”
Blushing, Ranko handed her selections off and began to look at a rack of dresses. She flipped through the outfits tentatively, pulling out a red dress she liked. She checked the tag, finding it to be the wrong size and returning it to the rack. She next pulled down a black Chinese-style dress with a red and orange flame pattern running up the right side. Finding the size to her liking, she smiled a bit, holding it up to Akane for approval. “You like?”
“If you do.” Akane smirked. Not getting out of it that easy, babe.
A search of two racks of tee shirts turned up nothing Ranko found interesting. Akane watched intently, smiling as her fiancee experienced the freedom to define a style for herself for nearly the first time.
With a tittering grin, Ranko looked back at Akane as she leaned over a table full of assorted garments. “You’re sure you won’t tell me if you like something or not?”
Akane shook her head. “Nope. You’re on your own, love.”
Smickering devilishly, Ranko picked something up from the table, walking over to Akane and holding it up with one finger. “Definitely no opinion of me in this, then?”
Akane blushed furiously, her eyes widening at the incredibly short pink skirt Ranko dangled in front of her. She shook her head vigorously, but the redness of her cheeks confirmed Ranko’s victory.
“You sure? I mean, if you don’t think I’d be cute in it, I don’t have to get it…” The redhead winked playfully at Akane.
“I mean…” Akane looked down, her cheeks afire. “... If you want it…”
With a smirk, Ranko tossed the miniscule garment over Akane’s shoulder, patting it gently and returning to the racks. Gotcha, girlfriend. She glanced over at a shelf on the wall, sighing and turning away from it before feeling Akane’s hand on her shoulder.
She turned to face Akane, who gestured back to the shelf with her neck. “You’re allowed to look at anything you want. Nobody’s telling you not to look at pants if you want to.”
“But, you said I should pick out cute things?”
Akane shook her head. “I said, pick out things you like. Go ahead. Everybody needs some stuff like that. Hell, I’ve seen Izumi in jeans.”
Blushing again, Ranko nodded. “I guess. If you’re sure it’s okay.” She selected a pair of blue jeans in her size, adding them to the pile in Akane’s hands. “That’s probably too much, isn’t it?” Akane had not shared the budget for their little adventure.
“I think one or two more things would be okay.” Akane smiled. It might hurt a little come the end of the week, but watching Ranko getting to take care of herself this way was worth a few tight days.
Ranko’s eyes fell on a dowel stretched horizontally between two shelving units, on which a variety of hair bands and other accessories hung. “Oh, yeah.” She unbuckled a red leather bracelet with several studded spikes encircling it, trying it on her right wrist opposite her silver dragon. I could use this soon enough.
Shaking her head with a smile and a laugh, Akane motioned to the register. “C’mon, gorgeous, let’s get out of here.”