“Do I have to?!” Ranko looked pleadingly up at her sister, shaking her head nervously as her eyes fell back down to the device in her hand. “I don’t wanna.”
With a roll of her eyes and an admonishing shake of her head, Yui groaned. “It’s called the Dragonfire for a reason, dipshit. Go on, don’t be a baby.”
Wincing, Ranko shielded her eyes and clicked the trigger of the brulee torch in her hand, extending her arm as far from her body as possible. She waved the blue acetylene flame over the glass of murky yellow liquid on the bar counter, yelping as it ignited and snapping her arm back as quickly as she could. The quarter-shot of rum floated at the top of the glass burned a bright blue, toasting the chunks of pineapple and jalapeño and the single maraschino cherry suspended over the rim on a bamboo skewer like a pig on a spit.
“There you go! Baby’s first cocktail! Great job, little sister!” Yui reached down, ruffling Ranko’s curly hair. The redhead was fresh from the salon, having trimmed her hair to the shortest length it had been since discovering the Phoenix two years ago. It came just to her shoulders, bouncing in loose curls that tickled her wherever the green cotton shirt she wore did not protect them. Between dancing and the intense martial arts training she’d been doing with Akane to regain her form before the tournament in a few weeks, the shorter hair was more manageable, and - dare she admit it - Ranko thought it was super cute. It was still long enough to do ponytails and pigtails when the circumstances called for it, too.
Yui gave a little click of her tongue as she repositioned the maroon headband in Ranko’s hair, which she’d knocked loose with her hand. Satisfied once the glittery bow was just to the right of the crown of her youngest sister’s head, she nodded in confirmation. “Proud of ya, kiddo.”
Ranko blushed brightly, a weak smile forming on her lips. She might have the adulation of hundreds of thousands of fans around the globe, but inspiring pride in the people who took a chance on her when she was a homeless nobody was still one of the highlights of her life every time she thought about it. “I’m glad.”
Yui motioned to the stage with a tilt of her head. “Now, you’d better get back to your real job, girl. They’re waitin’ for you up there.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Aya to get here before I go up? When are you out of here?” Ranko sighed, wishing Yui’s last night at the Phoenix could last forever.
The blonde bartender shrugged her shoulders with a quiet sigh. “Sakura will be here when she can, and then we’re gonna…” She trailed off before changing the subject. “Aya’s not coming tonight. She’s still dealing with the baby stuff. And, it’s not like she’s running too hard anyway. She’s about ready to pop! So, it’ll still be on you to run stuff until Izzi gets here. Sorry to leave you so short-handed, sis.”
Ranko frowned, slumping onto one of the stools. “What’s going on with Aya’s baby? She’s been super stressed the last couple’a weeks, but she never seems to want to talk about it when I ask.”
Yui rolled her eyes, leaning forward on the counter with her elbows. “This is why I don’t wanna have kids. Too damn nerve-wracking. And that’s before you figure in the whole, having to fuck dudes part of it.” She giggled as Ranko made a disgusted face at the idea, sticking out her tongue and bugging out one of her eyes.
“Apparently Kage found out his family has the gene for some really bad medical thing. Down’s… something or other. They did some tests, and it looks like the kiddo’s in the clear, but it really got Aya freaked out. The docs keep asking her for her family medical history, so they know what to look out for on her side, but she doesn’t know it ‘cause she’s adopted. Her adopted mom, the adoption agency, everybody’s telling her they either don’t know anything about her birth family, or aren’t allowed to tell her, and she’s climbing the walls about it.”
Ranko winced. I’d better warn Mom she’s digging. That could get pretty awkward, pretty damn fast.
Yui waved at her little sister, trying to get her head out of whatever sad place it was in. She was sad enough without having to see it etched in her family’s faces, too. “Go on, you. Go sing something. I’ll stick around as long as I can, and Izzi’ll be here soon to take over back here.”
Sighing, Ranko nodded. She slipped off her stool and rounded the bar counter. Slamming into Yui’s body at almost a full run, she wrapped the tall blonde tight in her arms, squeezing her hard. “Gods, I’m gonna miss you, Yui.”
“Aw, c’mon, Ran-chan. I’m not going to the moon, kiddo. I’ll be around. Fukuoka’s a hell of a lot closer than some of the places you’re gonna be come April, ya know.” The blonde threw her right arm over her youngest sister’s shoulders, returning her hug.
Ranko blushed, smiling nervously as she thought about the pending first leg of her tour. Not really the time to remind me how lonely it’s gonna be, Yui. “Maybe, but at least I’m coming back after.”
Yui nodded, brushing the tips of her blonde bob from her eyes. “And that’s why I can do this. I know you and the girls will keep this place goin’ for me. Now, go on. Get your ass up there, superstar.” She tried to affect a chipper tone, but Ranko could hear the sadness in her voice.
Ranko forced a smile, nodding as she fidgeted with the tips of her newly-shortened hair. “Yes, big sister.” She turned to the front of the room, slipping between the twin bar counters and turning right toward the stage. She didn’t notice Yui’s sad sigh as she turned her back.
Gotta put on a smile now, Ranko. The songstress closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Life of the party. Life of the party. Life of the party. Here we go, girl. Slowly, she opened her bright blue eyes, summoning a cute grin as she surveyed the three hundred and twelve people who packed the Phoenix’ main room for a Saturday night party in early December.
Smoothing the long-sleeve kelly green shirt she wore so that the words Santa, I Can Explain Everything screen-printed on it in white were more visible across her breasts, she waved to the crowd. She reached behind herself, flipping the switch on the plastic battery back clipped to the waistband of the white lace gathered skirt she wore over her dark green leggings.
“What’s up, Phoeeeeeeeeeeeeniiiiiiiiiiix?! You guys ready for a party?!”
Dissatisfied with the volume of their cheered response, Ranko shook her head with a little tsk. “Clearly, not ready enough. Yui! Dragonfires for everybody!” The cheer grew in volume as Ranko reached to her right, pointing with two fingers at a regular she recognized. “That guy’s buying!” She fidgeted with her hair as the crowd laughed, swaying her hips slightly despite there being no music playing behind her yet.
“You know, guys… You might have heard, I’m goin’ on tour pretty soon.” Indeed, the poster of tour dates plastered to the inside of the Phoenix’ front window gave its clientele little choice but to be aware. “And I’m gonna miss the shit outta this place, and all of you. Like, it’s gonna be cool to play all kinds of new places, but this is always gonna be home, ya know? There may be different places, but there ain’t no place better than a Saturday night right here at the Phoenix with my sisters, my mom, and the mother fuckin’ original Firebirds!”
As the crowd cheered at their acknowledgement, Ranko walked over to Shinji. She pointed behind him as if asking permission, which he granted with a quick nod and the beginnings of a smile. Reaching behind him to the instrument stand where the versatile musician kept his arsenal of gear, she lifted his cherry red lacquered electric guitar and slipped its strap over her shoulder.
She pulled a shiny black plastic pick from a leather pouch glued to the back of the instrument, beginning to stab at the strings in a short solo. As she strummed the first few chords of the song, she crossed back to her right, making eye contact with her best friend. When the two were within arm’s reach of each other, Ranko and Crash nodded in sync, bouncing on their heels as they both slammed into the main rhythm of Ranko’s newest songs on their guitars.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
However heavy her heart was, nothing brought a smile to Ranko Tendo’s face like music. She whipped her head to the side with a grin that outshone the sun, her bouncy red locks flying around her cheek as the headset microphone butted up against her maroon bow headband picked up the first few notes of the first song of what would eventually become Ranko and the Dapper Dragons’ third studio album.
“Three floors, full of boys in their suit coats and ties. Brass doors you gotta wait, like, half the night to get by. Staff tees; everyone behind the bar looks the same. Twelve TVs, so you can watch a freakin’ dozen ball games…”
She bounced playfully on the stage, swaying the lace skirt around her hips under the candy-red guitar. Ranko knew she couldn’t dance as much as she normally did while she was playing, and the song didn’t especially need the second guitar, but it was a special kind of fun to play it while she moved. Somehow, it made her feel like more of a real musician, and she imagined herself in the company of Jon Bon Jovi as she thrashed the six strings of the electric axe resting on her breasts with her left hand.
“Hot pink; everything’s covered in neon. Gold sink, matching toilet that’s too pretty to pee on. It’s all shine. The floor is covered with glitter. That’s fine, if you want a dish of mints in the shitter.”
Taking her hands off of the guitar for the moment and letting it dangle loose on the black leather strap over her shoulder, Ranko laced her fingers behind her neck, just behind the dangly silver hearts swaying from her earlobes. She rolled her hips playfully, closing her eyes for the moment and letting herself be lost in the music as she thrashed her head side to side with the support of her hands.
“Give me standing room only, and twenty-four tables. Give me shakin’ my ass off for as long as I’m able. Give me top-shelf gossip and bottom-shelf liquor, in bottles rockin’ faded, worn-out sell-by stickers.”
“Hey, beautiful.”
Yui looked up, managing a weak smile as she made eye contact with her longtime girlfriend. “Hey, Sakura.” Her voice was distant, and she bit softly at her lower lip as she turned her eyes back to the stage.
Sakura weaved deftly between the counters, pulling Yui into a kiss that the blonde bartender only half-heartedly returned. “You about ready to go start our big adventure?”
“Give me fools all fallin’ off their stools, and fallin’ off the wagon. Give me thirty-year-old speakers, thumpin’ Ranko and the Dragons!”
Ranko grinned brightly as she sang over the roar of just north of three hundred Firebirds. “‘Cause it’s hard to let your hair down when the bar looks like the mall! So, you’ll find me raisin’ hell, here in my hole in the wall!”
Yui spun a pair of tin shakers in her hands, rocking the two of them like maracas in time with the music. She turned each to their sides, splitting them from the mixing glasses capping them simultaneously with her long, powerful fingers and draining a pair of margaritas into waiting conical glasses on the bar top. She was grateful for the order, as it gave her just one moment more to be what she had been for the last three years - the Phoenix’ lead bartender.
“Packed all night, parking lot full of shiny brand-new Ferraris. Wound so tight, it’s like they’re all two hours deep in shibari. When I drink, I wanna party with the boys who go hard, but they think they can just pick a girl, and charge her to their card…”
“Sure thing, guys! Come back and see us again!” Yui waved as she handed the young blond man back his credit card, sighing as he led his date back toward the stage with their drinks in hand. Come see them, anyway. Her eyes surveyed the little corner behind the bar that had been her home these last few years - the place where she had grown from the broken girl Ayako found bleeding in the alley into the confident woman she was now.
“I’m not fond of watchin’ rich guys’ daughters gettin’ all spastic - trust fund blondes, with their purses and their noses full’a plastic. It’s high-class. It’s just the crème de la crème. But I’ll pass - who wants to party with them?!”
Ranko flitted to the wall at stage right, smirking as she reached out and ran her finger over the top of a mirrored glass plaque promoting one of the house brands of tequila they served. She brushed her hands against each other, knocking the dust from her fingers before throwing her fingers downward again over the strings of Shinji’s guitar.
“Give me blacked-out front windows the haters can’t see through. A dirty dance floor that you can’t help but stick your feet to. Give me two working burners and an ice machine that’s busted, jukebox full of oldies that were new the last time it was dusted…”
She leaned to her side, resting her head on her best friend’s shoulder as the pair played through the melody together on their guitars.
“Give me threadbare red benches that are turning brown with age…” Ranko wiggled her hips, causing her skirt to sway teasingly around her legs. “... and people makin’ out within an arm’s length of the stage…”
Sakura rested her hand gently on the shoulder of Yui’s sparkly yellow sweater. “Come on, babe,” she coaxed in a soft tone. “We’re gonna miss our train.”
“Rather play a little dive bar than a concert hall, so come find me up on stage here in my hole in the wall…”
Yui nodded, reaching to the wall next to the beige plastic cradle for the bar’s cordless telephone and freeing a small wooden frame from the nail that fastened it to the dark wood paneling. She ran her fingertips slowly over the glass, smiling wistfully down into her own eyes. The photo featured Hana and all six of the Phoenix’s daughters, huddled around Ranko in her fluffy red dress. All seven women in the photo were aglow, beaming in celebration of the release of Phoenix Rising at its debut party in the street in front of the bar earlier that year.
Sakura sighed, rubbing her girlfriend’s back. “Yui, I know it’s hard, but we’ve got to get g…”
“I… I can’t.”
Sakura gasped, taking a step back. “What?”
Yui sighed, fingering the frame in her hands as she turned to her girlfriend, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t leave this place, Sakura. The Phoenix is everything, Sakura. My whole life is here.”
“But…” Sakura slumped onto one of the barstools. “I already accepted the job. I can’t…”
With a sniffle, Yui brushed her hair away from her face and wiped at her left eye, nodding sadly behind her hand. “I know.”
“Give me workin’ guys who show up on payday to drink the hurt off, and girls a half a shot away from tearin’ that tee shirt off…” Ranko kicked at the air, slamming hard downward onto the strings of her bassist’s shiny red guitar.
Sakura cradled her head in her hands, her elbows resting on the bar counter that had been Yui Fukawa’s shield from the world for nearly thirteen years. “But that would mean.. we…”
Again, Yui nodded sadly, this time wiping both of her green eyes with her fingers and smudging her blue-tinged mascara slightly. “I know. I’m so sorry, Sakura. You should go. You’re gonna be late.”
“Give me posters on the wall for cheap American beer, and laminated menus ain’t been changed in a year.” Ranko waved to a regular she knew even as she bopped back-to-back with Crash on the stage, both of their guitars pointed skyward as they played the final refrain.
The raven-haired girl shook her head desperately. “Yui, please! You can’t do this! I love you!”
The taller girl nodded, leaning back against the bar counter hard enough to rattle the glass bottles strewn across it. “I love you too, Sakura. And that’s why I have to let you go.”
“I… just like that? After everything?” Sakura’s hands shook as she reached for Yui’s across the bar counter. “Please, Yui, think about this…”
Yui bit her lip, nodding. “I have thought about it. Please go, before you miss your train.” She turned away, fidgeting with a half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan to avoid having to make further eye contact with the woman she loved. “Go. I mean it.”
“I… I’ll call you, okay? I’m not ready to give up on us. Not like this.” Sakura slipped off the bar stool, careful to mind her black nylon pencil skirt. “I love you, Yui.”
Yui could only nod silently in reply as the woman she loved made for the door. She distracted herself by turning her eyes back to the latest young woman that her family and the bar they all called home had saved, as she sang with her friends on the little stage they’d built for her.
“All I need’s a couple spotlights and a headset microphone. You rich kids might call it hell, but girls like me can call it home. It’s a rowdy, dirty, funky, flirty free-for-all, where you’ll find me and my girls here in my hole in the wall.”