“Do I know you from somewhere,” the muscular-but-slim young man said, smirking dismissively across the blue vinyl competition mat at his opponent. “You look familiar.”
Ranko grinned, popping her neck as she bounced on the balls of her feet in her purple student instructor’s gi, keeping herself warmed up as she spoke. “What’s the matter, Tatsuya? Don’tcha recognize me without the pleated skirt and the pom-poms?”
Tatsuka Mikino’s jaw fell slack. “The… cheerleader? From Yusue, right? I thought you were asking about the tournament for your boyfriend.”
Well, that’s refreshing, I suppose. I wonder how much longer people will recognize me as anything except the lead singer of the Dapper Dragons.
The redhead giggled brightly, giving him a mocking wave. “Oh, please. They ain’t built a boy yet that could handle me.”
“Hey, Ranko, c’mere a minute.”
Speaking of people who can handle me... Ranko’s face turned crimson as she turned her back to her upcoming opponent, jogging to the side of the mat to join her wife. “Yes, sensei?” Gotta keep it formal in front of her students. “Shouldn’t you be over with Toshi?”
Akane grinned. “Actually… Dad is over there working with him.”
“No shit?! Dad came?!” Ranko beamed. “That’s so great!”
The young sensei nodded, grinning proudly. “He wanted to see the first-ever tournament appearance of his art. The one you made happen. And since he was here anyway, he decided to help out. He said he loves you and good luck, but he figured we should divide and conquer a little bit.”
Ranko nodded in understanding. “No, it totally makes sense. Frankly, you should be over there helping them, too. I don’t really need coaching, but your students do.”
“Honestly, Ranko,” Akane replied, her hands on her hips almost admonishingly. “Did you really think I’d be anywhere else when you were about to fight?”
The redhead waved off her lover’s concerns. “I didn’t think so, no, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Akane, I’m gonna wipe the floor with this dude, and you know it. Mostly, I’m just watchin’ to see if he’s gonna try to grope me or something.”
Akane rolls her eyes. “One of those, huh? Well, if he does, you have my permission as your sensei to punt his balls into the upper deck, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ranko replied with a giggle. “No letting him grab what belongs to you. Got it.”
“Well, if you wanna be technical, all of you is mine, so I guess that means no getting hit at all. And you know what that means.” Akane smickered, stepping closer and crinkling her nose cutely as she poked Ranko on the nose. “What do we say?”
Ranko giggled, covering her chest with her crossed arms. “Not yours, don’t touch!”
Akane laughed at their little game. “All kidding aside, I mean it, Ranko. Watch yourself.” Akane reached into the pocket of her gi top, fingering Ranko’s wedding ring. The referees had made the combatants take off their jewelry to avoid the risk of hidden weapons or just someone having their cheek sliced open by a pretty diamond solitaire, and Akane had agreed to hang on to the custom-engraved ring for her wife. Ranko felt naked without it, but she was grateful that the long sleeves of her purple gi at least covered the angry scar that wormed its way across her left wrist, as her silver dragon bracelet also resided in her partner’s pocket for the time being.
“But… if I don’t get hurt…” Ranko blushed playfully, toying with the tip of her high ponytail as she craned her neck, making sure no one else was in earshot. “... what will you kiss and make all better?”
Akane’s face caught fire, and she hid her cheeks in her palm. “Oh, silly girl, I’m sure I’ll think of someth…”
“Fighters! To your places!”
With a nod over her lover’s shoulder to the referee, Akane reached out, clasping Ranko gently on her shoulder. “Go get him. Just be careful. This guy’s won a ton of tournaments. He knows what he’s doing. I mean, he’s no Kuno, but…”
Ranko nodded. “Akane, I got this.” As she spoke, and began walking toward the center of the blue vinyl mat, she rubbed the back of her fist with her hand, a gesture her sensei returned.
“Okay,” the tall ginger referee began after gathering both fighters. “Refresher on the rules. No shots to the groin, knees, or throat. Strike the torso or the head, or pin your opponent’s shoulders to the mat, to score. First to three points wins. On a point or an injury, I’ll call break, and you’ll wait by your sensei until I resume the match. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Tatsuka replied, and Ranko offered a sharp nod as the two fighters turned to bow to each other.
The combatant in the blue gi dropped into a judo aiyotsu stance, smirking confidently. “This is gonna be interesting. I’ve never fought a girl before, let alone one who had a girl for a sensei, too.”
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Ranko growled, pulling herself up into a taekwondo kuemgang form. “And now we know why you’re undefeated.” That, and you do judo, so you’re not even allowed to punch or kick people most of the time.
“Fight,” came the directive from the referee, and Ranko stepped back in time to watch a kick sail harmlessly across her face close enough to hear the whoosh of her opponent’s gi pants.
Ooh, somebody cross-trained in kung fu for mixed tournaments. Smart. Do that with thirty or forty more styles, and you just might be able to hang with me.
While the tall boy recentered after the wheel kick, Ranko stepped forward, swatting aside the hand he’d held up to protect his ribs. She snapped her hand back at the elbow, locking her wrist and striking up at his cheek with the back of her fist.
“Point! Tendo one, Mikino zero,” the referee said, stepping between the combatants as Ranko backed off.
“Damn, you’re fast,” Tatsuka said, rubbing his cheek.
Ranko smirked a bit arrogantly. You’re just lucky I’m being sporting, bud. You’d shit that gi if I decided to bust out the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique.
“Fight,” came the referee’s instruction.
Ranko stepped forward, maintaining a jeet kune do stance. She smirked when her opponent took a defensive position. “Aww, what happened? Not as cocky now? C’mon, come get some more.”
“Alright, that does it!” Tatsuka roared, charging forward and reaching forward for her wrist to pull her into a judo grapple.
Uh-oh. Still telegraphing your moves there, dude.
Ranko sidestepped easily, giving him a bit of a shove in the back and sending him stumbling off of the blue mat onto the concrete floor surrounding it.
“Olé,” she called with a giggle, taking a stance like a Spanish bullfighter with one arm in the air.
Ranko’s opponent growled, adjusting his blue gi as he returned to the center of the mat and took a more aggressive stance.
“Fight!”
The referee barely had time to duck before the infuriated boy’s leg flew upward at the lithe, smirking redhead. Ranko stepped forward, catching Tatsuka’s ankle in both of her hands and lifting his leg as high as she could reach. Holding his left ankle high in the air, she hooked his right with her right ankle. She pulled her right hand down to his chest and shoved forward with it, thrusting Tatsuka hard off of his footing. Ranko lifted her leg, stomping downward with her right foot into her opponent’s stomach as he lay prone at her feet.
“Point! Two-zero, Tendo. Break!”
“Man, Imada, Tendo is really embarrassing Mikino here. We did not expect to see this from a first-time competitor, but she really came to fight today!”
The local radio broadcaster’s partner smirked, turning to his side as he leaned over the folding table that had been set up ringside and cocked his head to the black microphone on the table between them. “Turns out, she’s got the moves on or off the stage, Seno!”
“What’s wrong with you, Mikino,” the Shibuya sensei screamed at his student. “Get centered!”
Too late now, sensei. I’m in his head. Ranko smirked, settling into a jiu jitsu stance.
The tall boy closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, It was almost three full seconds before he opened his eyes, smiling confidently. He pulled himself up into a flat kung fu stance, looking significantly more relaxed.
“Well, look at this, Seno,” the commentator on the right side of the table said. “Mikino looks like he might be getting his head back in the match, and that could mean real trouble for Tendo!”
“Fight!”
Ranko stepped forward, raising her left leg for a high kick. Tatsuka reached up with both of his hands to protect his face, but his opponent never extended her knee. With his torso unguarded, Ranko leaned forward on her standing leg, letting herself fall toward him and driving downward with her fist into his stomach. She rode the defeated martial artist all the way to the ground, and she felt him sputter under her when they crashed to the mat.
“Or, you know, maybe not,” Yuri Imada said with a chuckle to his broadcast partner as the referee declared Ranko the match winner and the combatants clamored to their feet.
“And that is how you do that,” Ranko bragged as she returned to her wife’s side, beaming brightly.
Akane nodded, worry in her eyes. “Yeah, you did great, Ranko.” Her voice was distant, almost hollow.
The redhead scoffed. “Who ate your lunch over there? I whooped his ass, Akane. Why so glum?”
The young sensei motioned to the scoreboard with a tilt of her neck. “Kuno won his match, too. So, that’s who you’ll be facing in the finals.”
Ranko nodded, her own grin fading as she wiped the sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her gi. “I mean, we had to expect it, right? I… I got this. It’ll be okay. How about our boys?”
“With the novices, Daichi lost, but Juro’s in the finals. As for the advanced guys, we’ve got a little bit of an issue.” Akane nodded to her father in acknowledgement as Soun approached the couple from ring one.
Ranko cringed. “They both lost, huh? Damn. I really thought Toshi had a shot.”
Akane laughed as she hugged the girls’ father around the waist. “Actually… they both won, so it’s Toshi and Hideki in the finals against each other.”
Soun chuckled, releasing Akane from the hug. “A good problem to have! I’ll coach one, and Akane can take the other. Hello, Ranko!” He reached forward, and the slender redhead melted into her father’s strong embrace.
Man, hugs feel great. I fucking love hugs. Where was this my whole life?
“Hey, Dad! Thanks so much for coming!” Ranko’s eyes sparkled happily up at him as he released her shoulders.
“Are you kidding? My daughters are making me so very proud today. How could I stay away?” Soun laughed loudly, a sincere smile on his cheeks.
Ranko beamed warmly. It had been almost a year since Soun had accepted her into his family, and six months since he’d made it official on her wedding day, but being called Soun Tendo’s daughter still filled her stomach with butterflies sometimes. “Did you hear Aya had the baby? A boy. His name’s Jun.”
The old martial artist nodded. “Your sister told me. Izumi, I think her name is? I’m sorry; I feel terrible that I’m not more confident with their names, but there’s so many of them!”
The redhead nodded. “Yeah, they’re a motley crew, but they’re mine, and I wouldn’t trade ‘em for the world.”