She’ll never understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like.
Ranko stepped forward, digging the toe of her black slip-on shoe into the still rain-slick gravel of the rooftop. With a grunt of effort, she slashed across her body with both arms, bringing the blue gilded ancestral katana of Clan Shimizu to bear. It whipped through the crisp evening air with a soft whoosh, kicking up a bit of gritty gravel dust that whirled in gray wisps around the young warrior’s ankles despite the damp.
She’s never been vulnerable. Weak. She’s been fighting off perverts by the dozen since she was fifteen. She doesn’t know what it feels like, having your power stolen from you like that.
Helpless.
Afraid.
The redhead raised the unsheathed blade overhead, tilting her head to the side at the last moment to avoid lopping off her own loose ponytail with the weapon. The sword seemed to course with power in her hands, as if it sensed her barely-contained rage and joined her in it - centuries of righteous feminine fury coalesced into a meter’s length of angry steel that moved as an seamless, rivetless extension of her left arm. The last drops of the indomitable Shimizu bloodline thundered through her veins as she whirled around, slashing at the air with a kiai that frightened off a pair of greenfinches from their perch on the nearest of three industrial air conditioning units.
I was completely helpless. At the mercy of everyone around me. I couldn’t even walk. I barely even remember it. Just flashes. Shadows. Phantoms. If it hadn’t been for Lance and Crash…
She followed the arc of the curved blade with a high spinning crescent kick, unintentionally dragging the tip of the weapon in the gravel as she flashed her leg skyward hard enough to elicit a loud snap from the fabric of her black gi pants. The thousands of tiny grains of rock and sand re-settling under her feet almost sounded like mocking applause.
I don’t know why she has to know everything. Why she has to fucking talk about everything. Why can’t she just let me deal with my shame in my own way?!
Ranko straightened her back, raising her mother’s sword overhead in a rigid tai chi form and lifting her left foot to knee height in a pose like a figure four. The setting sun glinted off the blade, casting a piercing ray of yellow light that bisected her shadow on the gravel rooftop of her apartment building like a gash of flame cleaved through her silhouette’s heart.
Of course I love her. I can’t believe she could even think I don’t. I just… when she touches me, the Cat’s Tongue goes off, and I feel like I’m losing control, and I’m… back there. Like the ground is falling out from underneath me. It terrifies me. But how the hell am I supposed to tell her that?! How do I look the girl I was supposed to marry as an invincible guy in the face and admit I was almost… Mikado was bad enough, but this?! She’d never see me the same way again.
Her ears perked at the sound of rattling steel coming from behind her. What’s that? Footsteps. On the fire escape. Can’t be Akane. She’s at work. Her eyes narrowed in determined focus, her gaze as adamant as her steel birthright in her left hand. I don’t know who you are, but you snuck up on the wrong fucking girl. Nobody’s ever going to get the drop on Ranko Tendo again.
“HIYAH!” Ranko whirled, the razor’s edge following her eyes as she whipped her body around to face the fire escape, but her wrist met resistance. A precision strike to her carpal tunnel, between the two bones of her left wrist, caused her fingers to spasm. Her hand jerked open involuntarily, and her weapon fell limp from her hand and clattered to the rooftop with a loud series of clangs that reverberated into the alleyway below.
Before Ranko could process what was happening, fifty-nine kilograms of weight crashed into her ribs with the force of a wrecking ball. She stumbled back, trying in vain to brace her back leg against the loose gravel. She was only spared from falling because her assailant grappled her around her torso and held on tight. The redhead blinked in surprise, taking a moment to assess her situation and recognize the distraught woman who had slammed into her chest at full speed.
“A… Akane?! What are you…”
Akane tightened her arms around her wife’s body, clasping her hand on the back of Ranko’s skull through her sweat-soaked hair and pulling it down tightly against her shoulder. “Ranko… I’m so sorry, baby. I know. I know everything. Crash told me what happened in Bangkok.”
No. Damn it, Crash! Ranko swallowed hard, struggling until she squirmed free of Akane’s grip. I’m gonna fucking kill him! “It’s not like you think. I… I can explain.” As she spoke, Ranko walked off to her left, bending down to collect her sword from the rocky rooftop and dusting the blade off on the tail of the red tang shirt that was once all but a permanent fixture on her torso.
Akane reached tentatively for the redhead’s forearm, frowning sadly when her wife pulled it out of reach. “Ranko, do you honestly think there’s anything to explain? Baby… what happened to you out there, it’s unspeakable. It’s…”
With a loud grunt and a sharp wooden clack, Ranko slammed the sword into the blue wooden scabbard strapped to her back. “Akane, I swear to all the gods, if I hear one more fucking person say it wasn’t my fault…”
“It wasn’t!” Akane reached for her lover’s arm, but Ranko stepped back out of her reach. “Ranko, you didn’t ask for what happened. You… You didn’t know better. Nobody taught you the kinds of things to watch out for, to protect yourself. Nobody thought they had to, back when…”
“... back when I was a guy,” Ranko finished for her with a heavy sigh. “Just one more thing that guys don’t ever think about, unless they’re fucking inflicting it on somebody.”
Akane nodded softly. “Yeah. And Yui and the girls never thought to warn you, because they didn’t realize you wouldn’t know, and… nobody would dare try anything with you or any of your sisters at the Phoenix anyway, not with everybody watching each other. At least I should have known you wouldn’t have been told to watch out for your drinks like most girls are, because I knew about your past. So if you want to blame anybody, blame me. I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Please don’t,” Ranko pleaded. “You were half a continent away, and I promised you I’d take care of myself, and I was careless, and I almost… They could have done anything to me, Akane! Fucking Mioko would have had a better chance to defend herself! Some badass martial artist I turned out to be! I was just another giggling, drunken bitch in a short skirt that was thirty seconds from winding up pregnant or dead in a mother fucking alley somewhere, having to count on boys to protect me.”
Akane sighed, wincing at her wife’s words. While she knew they were partially true, it wasn’t an image she wanted help to conjure in her mind. “You’re being way too hard on yourself, Ranko.”
The redhead shook her head, an angry glare in her eyes. “You don’t get it, Akane! I used to see girls in a state like that all the time, when I was traveling with Pop. And I used to…” She clenched her teeth, looking away from her wife in her humiliation. “I thought they were just being stupid and careless, by willingly putting themselves in a position where anything could happen to ‘em. Like, what kind of idiot would get themselves that fucked up, where they’d be vulnerable to anybody who wanted to mess with ‘em unless somebody showed up at the right time to protect ‘em. And I was supposed to be the one doing the protecting, and now I’m the one needing it!”
Ranko’s partner nodded sadly. “Perspective’s changed a little now, huh?”
The devastated singer shrugged, utterly disgusted with herself. “I don’t know. Maybe I deserved it, after everything,” she mumbled, not expecting Akane to hear her.
“Oh, nuh-uh. Don’t you dare with that, missy. No one deserves that. No one! Especially not you.” Akane bit her lip, slumping her shoulders somewhat. “You got caught with your guard down, but that’s no reason to think that way about yourself. Besides, you did the most important thing you could do to protect yourself, at least. You made sure you weren’t alone. And you never will be again when you’re out on the road. We’re gonna make damn sure of that!”
Ranko nodded dejectedly, kicking a large pebble off the rooftop. It clattered down the grated steel steps of the fire escape with a series of metallic bangs. “I knew you’d never trust me after this. It was part of the reason I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Baby, no!” Akane approached her again, but Ranko again backed off, not wanting to be touched. “You didn’t do anything wrong, princess. I trust you, always and forever. I don’t trust everybody else. You are beautiful, and talented, and glorious. You’re incredible, Ranko Tendo, and it’s made you famous. But it’s also made you a target.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Akane stepped closer, and Ranko had no choice but to submit to her touch, cornered as she was on the roof’s edge. The backs of Akane’s fingers stroked gently down the redhead’s damp cheek. “If there’s one part of the life you left behind still in you, it’s that nobody beats you the same way twice. I have every confidence that no one will ever pull one over on you like this again. The chances that something like this could ever happen to you a second time are one in a billion.” Her hand moved to her wife’s other cheek, wiping away her lover’s silent tears. “But when we’re talking about the most precious thing in my universe, that’s one in a billion chances too many.”
“Always and forever?!” Ranko scoffed, looking for a way around her wife and finding none. “You didn’t trust me two hours ago, and then you got all indignant when I thought the same shit about Sho.”
The raven-haired girl nodded softly. “You’re right. That’s fair. I just… You haven’t let me touch you since you’ve been home, and that’s so… not like you. And you’ve been so weird around the band, especially Crash. Now I know that it was because they knew what happened in Thailand, but at the time…” She threw her hands up in the air, letting them fall to her hips with a loud slap. “I put two and two together and got snorkel. It’s not right, and I’m sorry. I owe Crash an apology, too. I just…”
Ranko sighed. “I’m sorry about the song, and everything with Sho, Akane. I won’t perform it, promise. I just… with this stupid contract thing, and then being all broken inside like this, I feel like I’m letting you down. I feel like I’m a shit partner. I feel like I might as well have stuck that pen in your back. And then this happens, and…” The redhead shrugged, turning away again. “I don’t think you’re gonna leave me for Sho because you want him. But sometimes I think you’re going to leave me for him because you should. Because I deserve it.”
“I can understand why you think that, but, listen.” Akane sighed, walking around her beloved and resting her palm gently between her breasts. “You did what you had to do, Ranko. I know you want to tell the world about us. It’s criminal what Yokai’s doing to you - or at least it should be. But don’t you dare spend another second thinking I am ever going to want anybody but you. I feel so blessed, getting to be with you every day, but…”
Akane’s shoulders slumped as she continued speaking. “Every time you go out on the road, I keep thinking the day’s gonna come when you find your footing in the big, wide celebrity world and realize you can find somebody better out there among the rich and famous. I need your reassurance sometimes, too. I need your honesty. When you’re hurting, I need to know, so I can be there for you, but also so that my mind doesn’t fill in the empty space between us with the things I fear the most.”
Ranko shuddered. “I’m sorry. I want to… I’m just so fucking ashamed of myself. I feel so gross all the time, about everything, and like… Akane, I want to make love to you again, so much, but every time I feel your hands on me and the Cat’s Tongue makes my nerves start to shut down, I feel myself falling again. I’m scared. Scared to give up control like that again. And I know I shouldn’t be, ‘cause it’s you, but… my heart wants to let go, and my brain is hanging on the edge by its fingernails because if I let go, I’m in that place again. At somebody else’s mercy.”
Akane’s shoulders slumped with regret. “And I’ve made it worse because I’ve been pushing you so hard.” She stepped back a few meters, suddenly realizing she wasn’t likely helping Ranko’s anxiety by having backed her up to a two-story drop in her bid to get closer to her wife.
Her words were met with a shrug. “That’s my fault. You’d have stopped if I’d told you what the problem was. I tried, on the phone before I came home. I really did. But…” Ranko turned, looking down at the street below from the corner of the roof’s edge.
Akane stepped forward again, a part of her mildly concerned that her lover might be considering jumping.
“I couldn’t look you in the face and watch your respect for me turn into pity. It’s one thing, with the Cat’s Tongue, to not be the martial artist I used to be anymore. I’ve learned to live with that. But this… this is different. This is… I couldn’t bear to watch myself shrink in your eyes, from the warrior I was, to this pathetic, helpless… well, whatever you wanna call it.” Ranko let her hands drop to her thighs in exasperation. When they clapped against her legs, the katana rattled in the wooden scabbard strapped to her back.
Akane shook her head, chuckling darkly. “I guess I was wrong before, when I said there was only one part of Ranma that survives in you. There’s another one.” Akane approached again as Ranko turned to look at her, and Akane delivered a poke with her index finger right between her lover’s eyes. “You’re still as stubborn as a mule, and you still think that your worth in my eyes has anything at all to do with the way you fight. You’re feeling diminished because something profoundly bad, and profoundly feminine, happened to you. I get that, but you’re handling it exactly like the dummy of a boy I used to be engaged to.”
“Damn, Akane,” Ranko said, managing the faintest of smiles. “You ain’t gotta insult me like that! Ouch!”
Akane managed the smallest of smiles, glad to see her words starting to break through her lover’s melancholy. “Ranko, you keep holding yourself up against the person you were before the Cat’s Tongue. Before the band, and the Phoenix. But, baby… I knew Ranma. I saw him every day. And…” She bit her lip, exhaling heavily. “I didn’t love him. I tried, but… I couldn’t love him.”
“But, then…”
Akane lifted her hand, cutting Ranko off before she could interrupt further. “Stop trying to turn the woman I love back into the man I couldn’t. Please stop trying to convince yourself that I would trade one second of my life with Ranko Tendo for a lifetime with Ranma Saotome - in a dress or otherwise.” She reached forward, holding her hand under Ranko’s chin for just a moment to allow her wife to emotionally prepare for physical contact before initiating it. She cupped Ranko’s chin in her hand, supporting her head and tilting it gently upward.
“You are a girl now, but that’s far from the most important thing that’s changed about you since then. On your worst day - at your weakest, saddest, most desperate moment - you are better than he was at his best. You are stronger - maybe not in your fists, but in your heart, where it really matters. You are braver than he ever was, because he might have been tough enough to go toe-to-toe with Ryoga when he knew there was no chance he would lose, but do you think he’d have had the balls to get on stage in front of twenty-five thousand people and sing? He could barely handle Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree with Dad and my sisters! You are smarter than he was, and I’m not talking about going to school. I mean, you know more about how to live, and how to love, than he could have ever understood.
“You keep trying to compare yourself to the ghost of Ranma, and I guess you don’t remember him as clearly as I do, because if you did, you’d realize there’s no fucking comparison. Stop apologizing for outgrowing him. You are twice as formidable as the woman you are than the man you used to be could have ever hoped for. You don’t owe me some vision of manhood. I don’t expect you to act like a boy, or handle things like a boy. I don’t expect a husband and a protector, and I don’t want one, either. I expect you to be the princess I married. If the tradeoff for that is that I have to stand up and do your fighting for you, then I will be damned proud to do it, because baby girl, you are worth fighting for, and you seem to be the only person left in your life who doesn’t see it.”
Akane framed her lover’s face with her fingers, brushing her hair to the side and smiling lovingly into her eyes. ”You are my orchid girl, and you are perfect, exactly as you are today. You might be a little more delicate than you used to be. You might need more protecting than you used to, from time to time. But, you know what? That’s okay! I think even Ranma probably could have used a little more protecting than he got, too, if I’m being completely honest. At least my Ranko is brave enough to accept help… eventually. You might be a mess, girl, but damn it, you’re my mess, and I wouldn’t trade you for all the world.”
Ranko blushed, shrinking from her wife’s gaze with a shy smile crossing her lips. “Do… do you really believe all of that?”
“Anytime you doubt it, princess, look at your left hand.” Akane lifted her eyes up to meet her wife’s, smiling softly. “I couldn’t be your song, if you weren’t my singer.”
“What am I supposed to do, Akane?” Ranko sighed dejectedly, kicking another pebble off of the rooftop. “I don’t know how to…”
Akane silenced her lover with a gentle kiss to her forehead. “That sounds like a good question for Fred, babe. I’m gonna make you - make us - an appointment first thing tomorrow.”
“I can’t tell F…”
Ranko’s eyes bulged as Akane laid her index finger across her lips. “You can, and you will. You don’t need to be ashamed. You’re a survivor. You went to hell, and you fought, and your friends fought for you, and you came back to me. I know it’s gonna be hard, but… you’re going to talk to him, baby. I don’t have all the answers for you this time, but hopefully he does.” Akane brushed a loose strand of Ranko’s hair from her eyes. “The most important thing to remember right now - to hang onto as tight as you possibly can - is the absolute fact that you are going to be okay. Me, and your mom and sisters, and the guys, and everybody, we’re gonna make absolutely sure of it, whatever it takes. I promise. And, you and me? Yeah, things are hard right now, but we’re going to be okay, too. I refuse to accept anything else.”
The redhead nodded. “What are we gonna do about… ya know?” She motioned to her lower torso, sighing in despair.
Akane shook her head softly in reply. “We’ll ask Fred about that too, but in the short term, we’re gonna take it nice and slow. We’re gonna go gentle, and we’re gonna do it at your pace.”
“But… what if that takes a long time?” Ranko looked down at her feet with concern.
Akane grinned, stroking Ranko’s damp cheek again. “You’ve never particularly minded that before, beautiful.”