“I am so fucking proud of you guys right now. You have no idea.” Akane laughed, standing between Toshiaki Suzuki and Daichi Arita, her two advanced students. “And let me ask you, Toshi: how does it feel to be the first ever student of Anything-Goes Martial Arts to win a sanctioned tournament?”
The bullish boy grinned down at his first-place trophy. “Not gonna lie, Sensei. It feels pretty damn awesome. But Daichi put up one hell of a fight.”
“You bet your ass he did,” Ranko said through a laugh, throwing her arm over the vanquished young man. “Great job, both you guys.” She turned to the five gathered students in the white gis standing with Soun. “And me and Akane are super proud of you all in the novice group, too. You’re all brand-new to martial arts, so don’t get discouraged. There’ll be lots more tournaments.”
Juro Nakahara, his cheek still smarting from the punch that cost him his own finals match, still managed a small smile. “Damn straight. We’ll get ‘em next time, Sensei.”
Akane laughed. “I’m not sure if any of you will even still be in the novice category next time, Juro. Not at the rate you’re all learning.”
“Maybe for the boys,” Shiori said with a groan as she pulled hair down from its tight ponytail. “I got my ass straight-up handed to me.”
Ranko shook her head. “Shi’ri, first off, I don’t think that girl should’ve even been in novice tier to begin with. She was pretty good. And she ended up winning the whole thing, so it’s not like you lost to a scrub.”
Juro rubbed his cheek as he nodded in agreement of Ranko’s assessment of the tween blonde who had dispatched him from the tournament as well.
The redhead gave Shiori a playful punch in the shoulder. “You did great, and with as far as you’ve come in just a couple’a months? You got this. Please. If you could turn me into a fuckin’ cheerleader in a few weeks, I think me and Akane can get you up to speed on this stuff, too.”
She blushed, thinking about the cheerleading practice she was missing at that very moment to compete in the tournament. It’s just a walkthrough for the routine; they’ll be fine. They all know it cold, except for Hideo, and all he has to do is stand there in that freaky fucking cat costume and wave, pretty much. Ranko flashed a grin up at her former captain. Two more weeks of practice, and then I’ll make them champions again, Shi’ri. Just like I promised you.
Ranko laughed as her thoughts were interrupted by the booming sound system of the Tokyo Budokan. The transition from C+C Music Factory’s Things That Make You Go Hmmm… to another popular dance track was punctuated by a loud, devilish cackle raining through the public address speakers.
Man, I’m over here thinking about cheerleading, at a martial arts tournament, while listening to myself sing Demon in Your Radio. Sheesh. Maybe I need to take it down a notch.
She was jostled from her thoughts by a feminine shout from behind her. “Ranko! Ranko Tendo!”
Ranko turned, needing a moment to recognize the blonde martial artist, probably two or three years Ranko’s senior, who had won the novice division after having vanquished both Shiori and Juro. “Hey. Good fighting today. What’s up?”
“I, um… I hate to ask,” the blonde began, blushing as she looked down at the tournament program in her hand. “Since we’re from competing dojos and all…”
Ranko chuckled, shaking her head with a disbelieving grin and motioning to the program and the silver marker in the woman’s hand. “Sure. Give it here. What’s your name?”
“At… Atsuko,” the blonde stammered.
Returning the flushing Firebird’s grateful smile, she opened the booklet to the page listing the roster for Akane’s dojo. Folding the thirty-two page booklet’s cover over itself to make the book more rigid in her hand, she uncapped the marker in her teeth before writing something on the glossy page next to her black-and-white photo, just beneath Akane’s.
“There ya go,” she said after sticking the tip of the marker into her mouth to re-cap it, wiping the cap off on the leg of her gi pants before handing it back to her. She left the book open so the tittering fan could admire the signature, and to allow the marker’s ink to dry.
Atsuko squealed excitedly, reading what Ranko had written: Hey, Atsuko! Congratulations on your win today! Keep fighting! - Ranko❤️
“Omigods, thank you so much! Sorry, was that weird of me to ask? I bet it was weird. I’m so friggin’ weird.”
Ranko waved her off with a giggle. “I promise, I’m used to it.” And this is nothing. When the tour starts… hell, I’d better pack an extra wrist.
“Indeed. It is little wonder that all who encounter the fair Ranko Tendo fall enchanted by her, as I long have been.”
Atsuko turned to look up at Tatewaki Kuno as he approached behind Ranko, blushing. “Aww, Ranko, is this your husband?”
Aaaaand, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. Ranko could only shake her head in the negative as she gagged, but she did so quite emphatically.
“Kuno,” she finally managed to sputter. “What do you want?”
“Tatewaki, please. Whilst you have sundered this lonely warrior’s heart with your refusal to date with me, we need not return to such stilted formality, dear Ranko.” His voice was soft, carrying a gentleness Ranko was not used to hearing from the brash martial artist.
Says the guy who talks like Don Quixote after a dozen of Shin’s special recipe cookies, Ranko thought to herself with a smirk. “I’m not gonna date anybody, Kuno. I’m married. I thought everybody knew that. It’s in the freakin’ album notes of Wild Orchid, even!”
The tall man nodded. “Oh, I’m aware. I must say, I found the news grievously distressing, given… that which you confided in me when we spoke on the matter previously.”
Ranko sighed, grateful Atsuko had already darted off to show her autograph off to her friends. Yeah, shit. I guess I did tell him I was into girls. “Well,” she said, sipping from a water bottle to buy herself another moment to come up with a good pivot, “you did say that night that if I found the right person, I might change my mind, and, well…”
Kuno sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I see. While I am saddened beyond description that you have chosen another, it is my most fervent wish that you have found and continue to have happiness, Ranko. Truly. After so long at the mercy of that thrice-damned Saotome, you deserve no less.”
Wow, Kuno. Look at you, being… nice. Now I almost feel bad that I gotta kick your ass in a minute.
“Thanks, Ku… Tatewaki. Really.” Ranko smiled sincerely, stealing a glance over his shoulder at Akane. “I really am happy.”
Her soon-to-be-opponent nodded sagely. “This gladdens me. And should the day ever come when that be no longer the case, you need but speak the word, and I shall be your sword. The vengeance of the Blue Thunder shall be swift and true, and my arms will open once again to thee, fair Ranko.”
Aaaaand, it’s gone.
“Yeah, I’m good, man. Really. Thanks, though.” She smiled brightly at the sight of someone speaking with Akane. “Hey, listen, I gotta go, okay? I’ll see you in the ring.”
Kuno grimaced. “It brings me no pleasure to raise my blade against thee again, Ranko. The honor of my sensei demands I must, but the thought of striking the flesh of an angel…”
Oh, don’t worry, buddy. I’m not gonna let you hit me. Not this time.
“Yeah, that does kinda suck for you, I guess. Gotta go!” Ranko waved as she jogged over to Akane, grinning brightly. “Hey, Ma!”
Nodoka turned, beaming at her daughter. “Ranko! There you are! You’re doing so well, honey!”
Ranko sighed happily as her biological mother engulfed her in her arms. “See? I still got it!” It wasn’t all for nothing, Ma. I can still fight. And if it wasn’t for the whole “merge the schools” business, I never would’a met Akane. So, even if I never fought again, it wasn’t all for nothing. It gave me everything.
“You certainly do! I’m so very proud of you, my little orchid.” Nodoka beamed, leaning in close and whispering to her daughter. “If this is what you’re capable of after what happened to you…”
The young singer nodded sadly. Yeah, Ma. I used’ta be a badass. You don’t gotta remind me of what I lost, okay? Not now. “Nah. This is me holding back the good stuff. Gotta be a good sport, right?”
Nodoka chuckled, releasing her daughter’s shoulder. “Well, then I certainly wouldn’t want to tangle with you!”
“Just remember that, because you and me made an agreement, and I expect you to honor it.” Ranko tipped her water bottle in her mother’s direction.
Akane looked up to her wife with a curious smile. “Oh? We have more on the line than a week’s worth of dishes?”
“TWO weeks, missy. Nice try!” Ranko laughed, smirking up at her mother. “Ma issued me a challenge. If I win the tournament…” She reached forward, poking Nodoka’s belly through her silk obi. “... this one has to let me take her to the mall and buy her an actual dress.”
Akane gasped, covering her open mouth with both of her hands. “A dress!? Why, Ma Shimizu, the scandal!” She giggled brightly. Oh, honey. The idea that you, of all people, would consider dress shopping to be a reward and not a punishment…
Nodoka blushed deeply, averting her eyes from Akane. “Yes, well, my daughter has been trying for months to convince me to stop dressing like it’s the sixties.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The redhead cackled, tossing her empty water bottle in a nearby cardboard trash can. “She means the sixteen sixties.”
“Please take your seats. Starting in five minutes in the center ring, our master-level final: Tatewaki Kuno of Ginza Academy Kendo Club versus Ranko Tendo of the Tendo School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts!”
Ranko looked up at the blaring speakers overhead, the deep voice rumbling through her body as if she’d been spoken to by the disembodied voice of the gods. “Alright, alright, sheesh!” She turned her eyes to her wife with a grin. “So, whaddya think, sensei? Ready to go kick one more ass today?”
Akane smiled, wrapping her arms around Ranko from behind and squeezing her tight. “Ranko, I would follow you anywhere.”
Yeah, Akane. Anywhere. Except Australia, and China, and Thailand, and Indonesia, and… Ranko sighed quietly, her smile disappearing. She willed herself to swallow her hurt at the reminder that her wife had decided not to accompany her on her upcoming tour, glad that Akane could not see her face from behind. Every day that the tour grew closer, Ranko’s resentment was growing as well, but there was nothing to be done for it, so all she could do was keep it to herself.
Gotta put it out of my head. Can’t let it mess with my mind right now. Gotta go fight.
“Good luck, baby. Be careful.” Nodoka cupped Ranko’s cheek even as Akane held her, leaning down and kissing it.
Ranko forced herself to flash a confident smirk up at her mother. “No worries. It’s in the bag, ma. Better start thinkin’ about what color dress you want.”
“And here it is, folks, our final fight of the master’s division, here at the 1992 Honshu Mixed-Style Martial Arts Tournament, and it features Tatewaki Kuno, the Blue Thunder of Ginza Academy, against Ranko Tendo, of the Tendo School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts - and notably, also of Ranko and the Dapper Dragons!”
“You know, Seno,” Yuri Amada said with a chuckle as he turned in his seat to respond to his fellow radio commentator. “We were a little skeptical about that nickname, so we sent one of our interns out to Ginza Academy to ask their students, what is the Blue Thunder?”
Nobuo Seno laughed, as he already knew the punchline to his partner’s jibe, tousling his hair as he leaned into the microphone on the table between them. “Yeah? How’d that go?”
“Of the hundred students who responded to our survey, fifteen said Blue Thunder is a sports drink. Thirty-one said it’s an American action movie - which it actually also is, for what it’s worth. Fifty-four respondents told us they think it’s a… how do I say this on air… a personal massager.”
Nobuo chuckled. “And how many does that leave who said it’s a martial artist?”
Yuri reached forward, grabbing the microphone and pulling it closer to his lips, deepening his voice. “Um, that would be zero, Seno.”
Ranko bowed to her opponent, flashing Akane a glance as she rose. Akane looked terrified, and the fear evident in her eyes was beginning to erode Ranko’s own confidence.
It’s Kuno. I’ve beat him a thousand times. Just gotta do it once more. Easy peasy. I got this.
Don’t get hit, Ranko. Don’t you fucking dare get hit, girl. He hits you with that damned stick, it’s over.
“Alright, fighters,” the referee began after Kuno and Ranko had both bowed to him. “Congratulations on making it to the finals. Remember the rules. No strikes to the throat, groin or knees. First to three points wins. Points are scored for a strike to the head or chest, or a ten-second pin of both shoulders. Understood?”
Receiving a pair of nods, he raised his hand between the combatants as Ranko adopted a kung fu stance, dropping it like a gate to release them against each other. “Fight!”
“En garde, Ranko!” Kuno slashed horizontally with his bamboo shenai, and Ranko heard it whoosh loudly over her head as she bent backward. It passed close enough to her face that if she’d stuck her tongue out, she could have licked it.
Holy fuck, that was close. Yikes. Looks like Mr. Chivalry’s not planning on taking it easy on the cute girl after all. Alright then.
She snapped back to a vertical position, getting her right forearm up just in time to block a slash in the opposite direction. Ranko yelped loudly, cradling her arm as she stepped back. Fuck, that hurt! Can’t block that damn thing. Doesn’t matter if it scores if it messes me up too much to fight. Fuckfuckfuck. Stupid, stupid.
“Are you alright,” the referee asked, and Ranko gave him a sharp nod, shaking her arm limply in the air with a grimace. “Alright. Continue.”
“It hardly seems fair that they let him have a weapon,” Nodoka fretted nervously.
Akane nodded, biting at her fingernails. “I know, but she knew the rules when she signed up.” She should have brought her own, honestly, even if she only used it to block.
Ranko’s eyes widened as Kuno brought his wooden sword down with an exaggerated overhand strike at her head, holding the weapon with both of his hands.
Nope, not today, Ranko thought, closing her hands with open palms at lightning speed. She caught the shinai between her palms a few centimeters from her forehead, grabbing it tight and falling backward. She yanked the wooden weapon forward as she plummeted to her backside on the blue vinyl padded mat, pulling Kuno over herself with it, and planted her foot in his ribs. While the kick itself was enough to score, Ranko pushed off with her foot and rolled backward onto her shoulders, launching him over her body and onto his back on the concrete just beyond the edge of the mat.
“Point, Tendo! One-zero!”
Nodoka screeched excitedly, jumping up and down behind Akane.
Kuno padded back to the mat on his bare feet, bracing his ribs with his hand. “Well struck, fair Ranko!”
Yeah, whatever. Bring that goofy ass back over here so I can finish kicking it, Ranko thought as she kick-flipped back to her feet, glaring at Sasuke as he returned his master’s weapon from the periphery of the ring. She rubbed her still-stinging forearm for a moment before assuming a defensive stance.
Let’s see what else ya got, dude. Two more points. That’s all I need.
“Fight!”
Ranko side-stepped Kuno’s weapon as he swung wide to her left, watching carefully for her opportunity. Stay small. Don’t give him anything to hit, she thought, crouching low as she adopted a capoeira ginga.
Keep moving. Wait for it. Wait for it…
Ranko stepped forward in the crouched Afro-Brazilian dance just as Kuno slashed at her from the side.
There it is.
She hopped up, striking at his wrist with a fast punch, extending the middle knuckle of her right hand out further than the rest to create a point that she jabbed precisely into the cavity between the two arm bones, striking directly at the ligaments of his carpal tunnel. The strike forced his reflexes to misfire and he opened his fingers, and the wooden shinai fell from his right hand into her waiting left.
“Gimme that thing!” She raised his own weapon against him, clasping both hands over the hilt and braining him hard with the bamboo stick.
“Point!”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Either this place is packed with Firebirds, or they just like seeing the girl win, Ranko thought with a grin, flipping the wooden sword around in her hand and offering it hilt-first back to her opponent.
One more to go.
“YES! Ranko!” Akane cheered loudly, jumping up and down next to Nodoka in her black gi and forgetting for the moment that she was supposed to be coaching, rather than just being her wife’s biggest fan as she usually was.
The referee summoned both of the combatants back to the center ring, raising his arm between them again. “Two-zero, Tendo. And, fight!”
Ranko hopped over a low sweep of Kuno’s shinai, retreating a bit and watching for another opportunity. Just need him to screw up one more time. She pulled her arms up in a jeet kune do stance. Come on… one more mistake…
With a loud kiai, Kuno whipped the sword diagonally at her. Ranko sidestepped, but wasn’t quite fast enough, and the downward slash just barely clipped her chest. The redhead fell to the mat with a loud cry, curling her knees tight as she lay on her side.
“Point, Kuno! Two to one!” the referee called out, his eyes raising as Akane ran out onto the mat.
“Time,” Akane screamed as she skidded to her knees next to Ranko on the padded floor.
“Baby? Are you okay?” Akane leaned down close, resting her hand gently on Ranko’s shoulder.
“Uh… uh-huh, I just… owwww…” Ranko whimpered, and Akane resisted every urge to pull her up into a comforting hug.
I have to be her sensei now. All these people are watching. “Can you keep fighting?”
Ranko nodded, still curled up tight on her side in the fetal position. “He… fucker got me right in the fucking nipple! Mother fuck, that hurts!”
Akane cringed. Yeah, that would probably put me down too, babe, Cat’s Tongue or no Cat’s Tongue.
“You’ve got two minutes, sensei,” the referee said after tapping Akane on the shoulder. She acknowledged him with a nod, her eyes never leaving her wife.
While Akane tended to Ranko on the mat, Sasuke ran out to the center of the ring with a water bottle in hand. “Well done, master! You’re going to win for sure!”
Kuno rolled his eyes, as he often did at the very existence of his manservant, opening his mouth wordlessly. Sasuke raised the bottle to squirt water into his master’s mouth, but his aim was off, and he sprayed a stream of clear liquid all down the side of Kuno’s kendo uniform and onto the floor mat behind him.
“Ugh! You cretin! Can you not manage even this most simple of tasks?! Give me that this instant, and begone with you!” Kuno snatched the water bottle from the diminutive wretch, squirting the remainder of its contents into his mouth. His refreshment finished, he hurled the empty aluminum bottle, striking the poor servant in the back of the head with a hollow bonk as he retreated from the ring.
“Thank you, master,” Sasuke mewled as he crawled the rest of the way out of the ring.
Kuno’s opponent winced as Akane helped her to her feet. “You’re sure you don’t want me to call this, Ranko?”
Ranko shook her head vehemently. “No way. I only gotta get one more point to win this thing.”
Akane nodded. “Then go get it, babe.” She leaned in close under the guise of adjusting the belt around Ranko’s purple gi, whispering to her. “I love you.”
Ranko gave her a warm smile through her gritted teeth in reply as Akane jogged back to the sideline to take her place next to Nodoka, Soun, Shiori and Toshiaki.
Alright. You heard her, Ranko. Let’s get that point and go home. Gotta get a cute little plastic trophy to put next to your Japan Record Awards. She took a tight karate stance, protecting her chest closely with her hands.
“You’re sure you’re alright to continue, Tendo,” the referee asked, satisfied with her nodded reply. “Alright. Then, fight!” He stepped nimbly out of the way, and Kuno brandished his weapon, but neither fighter made a move toward the other.
“Come on, Kuno! Let’s finish this!” Ranko growled as she motioned toward herself with her fingers. “Bring it!”
“Very well. En garde!” Kuno swept his shinai forward in a wide slash, and Ranko whipped into a roundhouse kick at his wrist. Again, she dislodged the wooden sword from his hand, and it sailed out of the ring, clattering hollowly on the concrete next to Kuno’s sensei.
Alright. Good. Now it’s hand-to-hand. Not exactly your strong suit, is it, Kuno? Advantage, me.
Ranko approached, flashing a high kick at her opponent’s cheek, but he swatted it aside with his right hand, retreating backward as he frantically scrambled for a new plan of attack. Pressing her advantage, Ranko charged into Kuno’s half of the mat, lifting her leg for another high kick.
Kuno ducked, kicking at the shin of her standing left leg in an attempt at a sweep. As he did, Ranko whipped her leg around, the momentum of her roundhouse applying torque to her foot on the mat. The grip of her bare toes on the vinyl was loosened by the small pool of water she’d planted her foot in, left over from Sasuke’s failed attempt to give his master a drink. She bent her knee a bit to compensate as she slipped, lowering her center of gravity to prevent herself from falling entirely.
Just as she did, Kuno’s sweep made contact with her leg.
Akane could have sworn that she saw Ranko’s left knee bend the wrong way, just for a fraction of a second, before her wife crashed to the mat in a writhing heap, grasping at her leg with both of her hands.
The half-capacity crowd of the Tokyo Budokan, so boisterous in their cheers a moment before, fell entirely silent. No sound could be heard in the cavernous arena, save one:
Ranko’s agonized scream.
~~~ END BOOK TEN ~~~