“Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed about this day?”
Ranko rolled her eyes, hiding her face behind the paper cup of mango smoothie in her hand and sucking on the red plastic straw. “Probably since about five minutes after you knew I was a girl,” she said in a hushed tone despite the surrounding din of the mall food court. “Just don’t think it’s gonna be an everyday thing, alright? I ain’t some shrine maiden or nothin’; I’m a freakin’ rock star.”
Beaming, Nodoka nodded, looking over her daughter’s attire. Ranko wore a plain, heather-gray hoodie over her red Phoenix staff tee shirt and a black pleated skirt that barely came to her knees, whereas Nodoka herself was clad in a yellow silk kimono, with a cyan obi that matched the large flowers printed all over it. “If I had any doubt of that, dear, the twenty minutes I spent watching you sign autographs in the parking lot would have dispelled it.” She lifted her foam cup, sipping at her tea. “But, for this occasion, I’m afraid your punk princess aesthetic isn’t quite appropriate.”
“I know, I know,” Ranko said, picking at her udon half-heartedly with her disposable bamboo chopsticks. “Freakin’ Kasumi had to go all traditional. If she’d done a Western-style wedding, I could’a worn a dress like a normal person.” Gods, if three-years-ago me could’ve heard me saying fancy dresses were normal, she mused with a chuckle.
Nodoka grinned. “Well, I’m afraid that just this once, you’re going to have to embrace the fact that, even though you spend most of your time performing Western-style music in a Western-style bar, you are, in all actuality, a Japanese lady. There’s nothing abnormal about that, even if it may seem out of the ordinary for you. Had I raised you, I assure you, you would be more used to it.”
If you had raised me, I’d be going to the wedding in a suit and tie, Ma. Somehow I don’t think we’d have stopped by Jusenkyo on the way to the farmer’s market, Ranko thought with a smirk. Ain’t much I’m grateful to Pop for, but that one…
With a loud groan, Ranko jabbed her chopsticks down into her mostly-empty udon container. “I know, I know. Just, with my normal clothes, you can at least put a little personality in it. Kimonos are so… blegh. She’s lucky I love her! If Kasumi thinks I’m doing that white geisha makeup though, she’s got another thing coming! Sister or no, there are limits!”
“If it’s any consolation, dear…” Nodoka tipped her cup in Ranko’s direction in a cheers sort of gesture. “You won’t be embarrassed in front of Akane, because she’ll be doing it right alongside you. Kasumi asked for all of you to wear kimonos, right?”
You think that spares me from teasing, Ma? Sometimes she has me do the kind of stuff she’s used to just so she can pick on me about it! Ranko sighed softly, thinking back to her lengthy conversation with Akane after the truth of her experiences in Thailand had been revealed at last. But she also understands. She doesn’t mean anything bad by it. She’s always got my back. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, even when she makes me squirm. The redhead’s cheeks flushed. Sometimes, especially when she makes me squirm.
“Has Kasumi given you any guidance on colors or patterns?”
Nodoka’s question snapped Ranko out of her thoughts and back to the present. “Uh… not really. She said no black, but other than that I think it's up to me. She's wearing red, so I should probably avoid that.” The young singer blushed, playing with the braided ponytail that hung over her left shoulder. “Well, from the neck down, anyhow.”
The elder woman nodded, rubbing her chin. “I think something floral could work for you. But, we’ll see when we get… Ranko?” She turned her head to follow her daughter, as Ranko had launched herself out of her seat like a rocket and was walking around the table.
“Gimme just a sec, Ma,” Ranko said, pulling her hood up over her hair and pulling the drawstrings tight. “I’ll be right back.” She shouldered her purse and hurried through the central corridor of the mall after someone she’d seen walking past the food court in the crowd, weaving through the meandering shoppers with ease in her silver cheerleading sneakers. It took her but a moment to catch up to a tall, spindly boy in a Shibuya Stars basketball jersey. It wasn’t the uniform for her alma mater’s rival that interested her, but the large boom box he carried over his shoulder. It wasn’t currently playing anything.
“Hey, you got a sec?” She reached up, tapping the boy on his shoulder blade as she couldn’t quite reach the top of his shoulder.
“Huh?” The boy turned, looking down. He towered over Ranko by more than thirty centimeters. “What can I do for ya?”
Reminds me of Eiji, she thought with a smirk. “Sorry, I just… I saw your radio, and I wanted to ask you about it! It looks so cool!”
Grinning, the young man pulled the boom box down from his shoulder, motioning for her to follow him. He led her to a nearby bench, setting the radio down on it to allow Ranko to admire the custom spray-paint job that had been done on the front of it. The whole front of the device shell was purple mixed with blue, and flecked with some sort of glitter, so gave the appearance of a night sky. The black grill of the left speaker was unpainted, but the huge round speaker on the right side of the radio was painted to look as if the speaker grille were being torn open from the inside. A reddish-purple humanoid beast with sinister-looking horns atop her head reached her claws outward through the hole, as if trying to escape the speaker. “I painted it myself. I’m an artist,” the beanpole of a boy declared proudly.
“You did a great job! She looks amazing!” Ranko beamed, looking over the young man’s handiwork. “What inspired you to do the art this particular way?” C’mon, dude. Say it. As she asked, she peered through the clear plastic window on the front of the boombox, grinning at the sight of the familiar compact disc sitting in the vertical-mounted player within.
Blushing, the young man gave a shrug. “Just, thinkin’ about my favorite song, I guess.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit.
“Lemme guess… Demon in Your Radio?” Ranko beamed, biting her lip a bit. “It’s one of my favorites, too!”
The athlete gave her an emphatic nod and a wide grin. “You know it? It’s so good! I mean, I must have practiced for months to be able to do it as fast as she does.”
“Yeah?!” Ranko chuckled to herself, remembering countless flubs in her bathroom mirror when rehearsing the extended Hellfire version of her first dance hit, especially the line the irreverent revenant, revvin’ up everybody hearing me. “Me too!” She pulled her purse around her torso in front of herself, eyeing the custom paint job on the radio. “Hey… you mind if I… try something real quick? I’m… something of an artist, too. If you don’t like it, you can just cover it up, and I won’t mess up your pretty demon, I swear. It’ll only take a second.”
With a skeptical expression, the boy scanned her over, giving her a slow nod. “I… guess?” He watched her intently, crossing his arms over his chest. What is this weirdo on about? Who just runs up and asks to draw on your shit like that?!
“Thanks!” Giggling, Ranko pulled open her purse, reaching into it for a silver marker. She laid the radio on its back, with the demon facing up at her. Just below the speaker, on a patch of starry sky, she set the marker to work. “There! How’s that?”
With a gasp, the basketballer covered his mouth with both hands as he watched her sign her name with her trademark heart at the end. “Wait! You… you’re really…”
Ranko pulled back her hood to reveal her hair and the rest of her face, flashing the Firebird a grin and a wink. “Shhh. Don’t need a mob,” she implored in a hushed voice. “I’m here with my mom. Well, one of ‘em, anyway.” She laid her finger over her lips just in front of her excited smile, giving him just a moment before pulling her hood back up. “Enjoy it! Hey, what’s your name, dude?”
“I can’t believe it,” the young fan said, his eyes darting between his radio and the young starlet who had autographed it. “Ranko Tendo signed my freakin’ radio!”
Giggling, the redhead nodded excitedly. “Uh-huh! Now… about that name?”
“Sorry! It’s T-toshiya,” the young artist stammered.
The songstress nodded. “Good to meetcha, Toshiya! You know, you could’ve brought this by the Phoenix anytime, and I’d have signed it for ya, if you wanted.”
“Are you kidding?!” Toshiya rolled his eyes, continuing to speak in a hushed but excited tone of voice. “I’ve been trying to get into the Phoenix when you’re on for months, but it’s always packed. I’ve always dreamed of seeing you perform live!”
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With a thousand-watt smile, Ranko shook her head. “Now that, we can fix.” She reached in her purse again, pulling out a small stack of red business cards bundled together with a pastel pink hair elastic and drawing one of them out. The boy peered over her shoulder, and recognized the trapezoidal firebird logo on the front of the card immediately.
Ranko turned the card over, signing the back of it and blowing on it gently to help the ink dry faster. “Here.” She handed the card up to him, rising back to her feet. “Hand this to whoever’s at the door, and they’ll put you in VIP. I wanna introduce you to my sister, Yui. Maybe she’ll ask you to do some art in the new club we’re building!”
“The Dapper Dragons… might perform… in front of my art?! Excuse me, I’m just gonna go die now!” Toshiya sat down on the bench, picking up his radio and admiring the new addition to the artwork. “I think I might faint.”
Laughing, Ranko shook her head. “Please don’t, man. I’m not sure I can drag your ass to the doctor. You’re kind of a big dude! Anyway, I gotta get back over there with my mom. Enjoy it, and I look forward to seeing you at a show!”
“Uh…. uh-huh,” the boy replied dumbly as Ranko flitted back into the crowd and hurried in the direction of the food court.
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“I. Look. Ridiculous.”
Ranko groaned, exiting the dressing room in a burnt orange kimono. The silk was printed in an almost polka-dotted pattern of tiny white daisies, and the obi around her waist was white. “Hello, welcome to Yobu’s Sukiyaki House! Can I take your order please?” The redhead rolled her eyes in disgust.
“Oh, come now, dear, it’s not that bad.” Ranko’s mother snickered. “Okay, maybe it’s a little that bad. But…” She reached up to a wall rack next to her, pulling down the lavender kimono she’d selected while her daughter tried on the previous candidate. The majority of the silk was patterned to look like falling flower petals in a deep indigo, but the bottom - everything from about knee-level down - was styled to look as if the wearer were walking through a field of vibrant orchids. “How about this for my orchid gi-”
She blinked as Ranko snatched the hanger out of her hand. “Well, okay! I take it you like it? Why don’t you give m-” Sighing, she reached up, pulling the orange kimono that Ranko had just hurled over the fitting room door off of her head where it had landed. “I’ll… just put this back,” Nodoka said with a quiet chuckle and a resigned shake of her head.
Nodoka returned to the fitting room just as the door opened, and covered her mouth with her left hand at the sight of what emerged from it. “Oh, baby.”
Ranko blushed meekly, but was unable to hide the smile on her face. “You like it?” She’d paired the white obi from the previous kimono with the orchid-styled one. It reminded her a lot of the album cover for Wild Orchid, her second album. She turned, stepping up onto a little platform surrounded by three mirrors so the viewer could see herself from multiple angles.
“Do I like it?” Nodoka stepped up onto the platform behind her, wrapping her arms around her daughter’s waist from behind and resting her chin on Ranko’s shoulder. “You look incredible, honey. And I am so proud of you right now. Do you have any idea?”
Closing her eyes, Ranko breathed deeply, savoring the moment. I waited so long to hear her say that, and now I get it almost every time I see her. Never gets old, though. She rested her hands on her mother’s at the level of her navel. “I’m gettin’ there, Ma. Slowly, but surely.”
Nodoka kissed the top of her daughter’s head through the shock of flame-red hair. “That’s my girl.”
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Ranko grunted as she bent down into the back seat of her mother’s Toyota, carefully hanging the plastic-wrapped kimono from the handle just above the door frame and bundling the bottom of it into the car. “You think that’ll be okay like that?”
Receiving a nod in reply, Ranko slipped into the passenger seat of the car, pulling the door closed and reaching for her seat belt. “Thanks for doing this with me, Ma. Really. I had no idea what the hell I was doin’.”
After the click of her own seat belt, Nodoka waved off her daughter. “Don’t mention it. I had a wonderful time! And it seemed like you did, too.” She reached across the arm rest, patting her daughter on the thigh at the hem of her skirt. “It was good to see you smile. I don’t think I’d seen it since you’ve been back from the road this time.”
Ranko shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself in her hoodie. She answered after a long, pregnant pause. “Been… goin’ through some stuff, is all.” At least Mom, Akane, and the girls know now. I tried so hard to keep them from finding out, but I gotta admit, the fact that they know about it, and they aren’t laughing or anything, does help. She sighed quietly, shaking her head with a chuckle. They keep telling me talking about shit always feels better than secrets. Maybe one of these days I’ll even believe ‘em.
“Well, if there’s anything you ever want to talk about, little orchid, I’m here for you. You know that, right?” Nodoka took her hand back long enough to turn the key in the ignition, resting it on Ranko’s shoulder as she backed the car out of the parking space.
Yeeeeeeahh… as much of a relief as it is not having to hide it from everybody else anymore… we’re gonna need a little more distance from the “man among men” thing before I tell you somebody tried to… Ranko shivered under her mother’s hand. “I’ll be alright. Just… I got a lot of shit going on right now, and it’s confusing the hell out of me.”
Nodoka nodded, turning on the right turn signal to exit the mall parking lot. “I can only imagine, honey. You’re at a confusing time in your life anyway, and that’s before you add in all the extra complexity you deal with being… well, you.” She flashed her only child a smile as Ranko vocalized through a huge yawn. “Tired already? It’s barely past noon! The night life is wearing on you again, isn’t it?”
Ranko shook her head with another shrug. “Just haven’t been sleeping too good lately. Really stressed about tomorrow.” Scared shitless, more like. And angry.
Nodoka pursed her lips as she turned the car onto the highway from the access road leading to the mall. “Is this the meeting with your record people?”
The redhead gave a small nod. “Yeah. And I just…” She sighed, letting the back of her head fall limp onto the tan vinyl seat behind her. “I was so stupid signing that fucking contract. I should have told them to go right to hell, but…”
“They sort of had you over a barrel, Ranko. You said so yourself. They didn’t give you much chance to get out of it, and without your agent there…” The singer’s mother turned on her turn signal, merging into the center lane. She spoke over the horn blaring from the car behind hers as it changed to the right lane and passed her Toyota at a much higher rate of speed. “What choice did you have?”
Ranko slumped in her seat. “It doesn’t matter, Ma. I should have fought harder. I should have… I don’t know how Akane isn’t furious with me over it. I would be. I just feel like such a fucking asshole for doing this shit to her.”
Trying her best not to scowl at her daughter’s foul language, Nodoka exhaled slowly. “An argument could be made that you did it for her,” Nodoka admonished as another car whizzed past hers at twice the speed. “Preserving your livelihood helps you both, even if it comes at a cost.”
Ranko scoffed, fidgeting with her fingernails in the passenger seat. “Not a good one. I wish I could convince myself of that, but no. I did what I did for my family. Maybe Nabiki could have found a better way, maybe not. But I’ll never know now. Now I’ll just always feel like I sold my wife out when maybe I didn’t have to. I wish I could tell them how they’re just hollowing my guts out with this stupid thing, but at this point, I’m not even sure they care.”
Nodoka clicked her tongue, biting her lip and bobbing her head side to side a bit as she thought. “What about telling them in a song? I mean, other than that Naruto boy, I think I know better than anyone how… effective you can be at making your point that way when you set your mind to it.”
Chuckling, the redhead shook her head. “His name’s Saburo, Ma. But good on you for trying. And… I tried. But, what’s the point? It’s not like they’re gonna put it on the new album.”
“Oh!” Nodoka furrowed her brow, replaying the several shows she had caught at the Phoenix since her child’s wedding a year ago in her mind. “I don’t think I’ve seen you perform it.”
That’s because the costuming for Viper would give you a stroke, Ma. Traditional Japanese lady, it ain’t, Ranko thought with a smirk. “After the contract, there didn’t seem like there was a lot of point in being defiant when they’ve already got me in a cage. Nabiki’s gonna do her best to try to fix it, but I don’t think she’s gonna have much luck. And I’m just gonna be… stuck like this. I hate them so much, Ma. And it’s starting to make me hate music, because everything I do, they own. Every time I write a new song, it’s like I’m giving them some new weapon to use against me. Letting them make some more money off of hating who I am. It makes me sick inside.”
“I can certainly understand that.” Nodoka sighed softly, squeezing Ranko’s shoulder with a firm grip. “Can’t you just find a new record company? I know you said it was hard at first, but you’re a lot more successful now. Surely someone would be happy to sign you.”
Ranko rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. “I wish it was that easy. But, if I did, Yokai would still own everything I’ve done before. I’d basically be starting my career from scratch. And, I mean, I’m good, but… I don’t think I can catch lightning in a bottle again. I can’t promise myself, Akane, the boys, or anybody that I can write new stuff that’s gonna make people forget Rise, Sneak, Demon, and all of those.”
“Ranko, baby, take it from me.” Nodoka forced a smile across her lips, glancing over at her child as a tractor trailer painted with a giant ad for hamburgers whizzed by her car in the left lane.
“Speaking as someone who never thought she’d see her son again, let alone take her daughter shopping for her first kimono…” She reached out, patting her child on the thigh reassuringly. “Sometimes, when the current state of things does nothing but cause you pain, the best thing you can do is take a chance and start over.”