“Dude, seriously?! You brought that girl with the weird alien tattoo back to your room?! What did Crash do?”
Shinji shrugged as he popped open the taxi door. “Not my day to watch him. Maybe he stayed at the bar, I dunno.”
Ranko rolled her eyes as Shinji held the door of the yellow Toyota open for her, careful not to give him too much of a show under her kelly green sundress as she stepped out of the car in the hotel parking lot. She slipped her sunglasses on, adjusting the weight of her small black purse on her bare right shoulder. “Just left the poor bastard there with nothing to do all night and no room to go back to, huh?”
The bassist gave a low chuckle. “I ain’t had any since before we left Tokyo. Trust me, it didn’t take that long.”
Ranko cringed, crinkling her nose. “I really didn’t need to know that, thank you.” With Hitomi and Emi flanking her, and Shinji falling behind, she made her way across the valet lane in front of the four-star hotel Nabiki had booked the band in.
A man in a red uniform festooned with brass buttons pulled the glass door open, holding it for the party. “Welcome back, Miss Tendo,” he said with a wave.
Weird that nobody bows here, Ranko thought, waving back to him with a bright smile. I wonder if they know everybody’s name that stays here, or just mine. I wonder if… is it because I’m famous? Like, is this what it feels like to be Madonna or somebody? So lost was she in dreams of her celebrity status that she didn’t notice Shinji slip a few bills into the man’s hand. That was another strange thing that had baffled her after almost a week in America - it seemed like nobody just got paid from their job like normal; everybody who helped you with anything expected you to give them money directly.
Due to a lack of available venues, she and the other Dapper Dragons had a few days of downtime in Honolulu between shows. It had been a welcome break for Ranko, who hadn’t really gotten a chance to catch her breath from her injury, a frantic rehearsal schedule to make up for lost time, and the end of her high school career. She wished Nabiki would have just brought them home for a few days on the itinerary after the previous show, but flights and the transport needed to get their gear to Hawai’i was so much less expensive early in the week that it came out cheaper to travel early and stay in the hotel for a few extra days.
As it was, she’d spent most of the day before as a third wheel, tagging along with Emi and Hitomi as they hit the local shops. Ranko had bought very little of her own. She couldn’t exactly cook for herself on tour, and while the Yokai people were chipping in for her meals and incidentals every day, it wasn’t enough, and she was cognizant of spending too much money in Hawai’i and leaving Akane short in Japan for the things she needed.
Indeed, almost everything she’d purchased the day before was a gift to bring home to someone she loved. She was particularly excited about the book she’d bought for Yui, a catalog of some sixty different cocktails that could be made using pineapples. Since pineapple juice was the basis of the Dragonfire, she thought her sister might find it useful if she ever wanted to play around with the recipes again. If she’s feeling up to it, she thought. She’d spoken with her mother on the phone on Wednesday afternoon, who had told Ranko to her great relief that the number of stirring straws in Yui’s little cup behind the bar was continuing to increase. Hana had also told her that Yui and Akane had a surprise planned for her when she got home, and Ranko wasn’t sure if she was excited or worried about it. I haven’t gotten many surprises from Yui, but I know most of Izzi’s surprises generally involve lace and shoes that hurt my feet. Oh, and the occasional dress that I’m supposed to set on fire while wearing it on national television.
The second taxi carrying Crash, Jake and Ken back from the little breakfast restaurant pulled into the valet lane as Ranko entered the building, the welcome blast of air conditioning starting her bare legs shivering. I don’t know how people survive here; it’s so fucking hot. Pretty, but hot.
“Meet you back down here in twenty,” Hitomi said with a giggle, nudging Ranko gently in the ribs. “Hurry up and get in your bathing suit, girl! The beach is calling, and we must answer!”
“Alright, alright,” she replied with a bright smile. "But I’m getting an umbrella or something, and some more sunscreen. I’m gonna bake out th…”
“Ranko?”
The young singer stopped mid-word, whipping her head with enough force to smack Shinji in the face with her tight red braid. That sounded just like… She scanned the few couches arrayed in the lobby of the hotel, her eyes locking on the second one from the left.
“Akane?!”
Akane blushed, nodding as she stood and smoothed the yellow dress she wore. Her short black hair was held back by a yellow headband with a large off-center bow above her right ear.
“Surprise!” Akane ran forward, and before Ranko could finish stammering, the redhead was nearly tackled in a hug.
Ranko, for her part, squeezed back, giggling as Akane picked her up off the ground and spun her in the air. “What are you doing here?! I thought you had school!”
Akane nodded, scanning the lobby with her eyes. Damn. Too many people to risk a kiss out here. “I managed to get a long weekend, and Mom told me to play hooky from work and catch the next flight out here. So, here I am! Hi!”
“Yeah, hi!” Ranko giggled, squeezing Akane tight. “Gods, I’ve missed you so much! So, you’re just like, here to hang out? I’ll tell Hitomi and Ems I can’t come with them. We just were gonna go drag the boys to the beach.” She leaned in closer, whispering. “I’ve got a 500-yen bet going with Emi that Shin catches fire as soon as his skin is exposed to sunlight.”
Akane giggled. “I mean, sounds like a safe bet to me. Don’t cancel the beach, though! That sounds fun! I’ll just come with! I don’t care what we do. I’m not here to see Hawai’i. I’m here to see you.”
Ranko blushed deeply. “O… okay.” She smiled at the little red-and-white weekend bag Akane was dragging behind her. She went and got the matching bag to finish our set. “I gotta go change first, though.”
The singer’s wife eyed her curiously. “What’s got you all blushy, little miss?” She was all smiles as Ranko pushed the elevator button for the fifth floor.
“N…nothin’.” Ranko grinned coyly at her lover as the elevator started to move. “I’m just glad to see you, is all.”
Akane nodded, stroking her wife’s neck softly with the backs of her fingers in the elevator they found themselves alone in. “You look so good, baby. You look so pretty. You look happy.” The redhead, in her flowing green sundress, sunglasses, yellow flip-flops, and the little white straw hat with the hibiscus flower tucked into the brim looked the perfect picture of a vacationing beach bunny.
Ranko blushed more deeply still, shivering slightly under the touch she’d been starved for all week. “I am, now that you’re here with me.”
Akane sighed quietly. “You know, you’re allowed to have fun when I’m not here too, right? Nobody expects you to sit locked up in your tower like Rapunzel and wait for the show just because I’m at home. I want you to go out and experience things on this trip, too.”
The redhead nodded. “I know, and I am. Like, I was gonna go to the beach before I knew you were here, and I went shopping with the girls yesterday. But… everything’s just so much better with you.” As she spoke, the elevator dinged and the door opened, and Ranko turned right, leading Akane to the third door on the left side of the hallway. She swung her purse forward on her shoulder, unzipping it and digging within for a single key on a keychain decorated with a bright orange rubber fob indicating the room number.
“Well, such as it is, home sweet home,” Ranko said as she swung the door open. The housekeeping staff had apparently already been by for the day, as her queen-sized bed was made. It always made Ranko blush to see it; the maids had the adorable habit of tucking Starlight under the blankets as if she were sleeping. A few articles of dirty clothes were crumpled in one corner of the room, next to her large suitcase, propped open on a folding luggage rack against the far wall. Her cosmetic bag lay on the bathroom counter, with half its contents spilled out over the countertop, and her red-and-white polka-dotted garment bag hung open in the narrow closet, its door still slightly ajar. The dresser, nightstands and headboard were all in a white oak that gave the room a beachy ambiance, and a plush green chair and matching ottoman by the window rounded out the furniture. A few paintings of beach scenes hung from the walls in pale frames that appeared to have been constructed of driftwood.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Oh, this is cute! Nabiki hooked you up,” Akane said, pulling open the somewhat ugly blue and yellow floral curtains. They were made of a heavy material that blocked nearly all light. “Wow! You’ve even got a view of the water!”
Ranko smiled. “Me and the girls do, yeah. The boys are on the other side of the hall, and their windows look out onto a billboard for shaving cream.”
Akane giggled, waving her hand in the air. “They’re boys. They don’t appreciate the finer things anyway.” She pulled the curtains closed again. “And speaking of finer things… Don’t you need to be getting out of that dress?”
The redhead looked down, her cheeks afire. “I, um… about that.” She walked into the bathroom, returning with two fairly small garments in a matching electric blue. The color reminded Akane of Mei’s hair. Large white flowers were printed throughout both the top and bottom of the outfit.
“Um… Hitomi said my old bathing suit wasn’t cute enough… She, uhhh, made me buy a new one.”
Akane bit her lip coyly. “Well, remind me to thank her later. Come on, now.” She reached behind her wife, pulling at the tails of the white ribbon sash cinching the green dress around her lover’s waist until it came untied. “You wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, would you?”
Sitting on the edge of the bed in the adjacent room, Emi sang quietly to herself as she applied a milky white sunscreen lotion to her long, pale legs.
“But now I’ve got the recipe to make you wind up next t…”
Her eyes darted up as a loud thud shook the drywall dividing her hotel room from Ranko’s hard enough to tilt the framed painting of a red wooden lounge chair under an umbrella on the sand hanging above the dresser a few degrees on its nail. She shook her head, giggling at the sounds that followed.
“Uh, ‘Tomi? Take your time, hon,” she called into the bathroom. “Something tells me we’re not leaving in fifteen minutes.”
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“So, hi.” Hitomi giggled, nudging Ranko in the elevator. Ranko was wearing her new blue and white bikini, covered with a long white sheer wrap dress. Because it was transparent, Hitomi could easily confirm that more than just the singer’s cheeks flushed red. “Feeling better, Ran-chan?”
Ranko shrank into the corner of the brass-lined elevator, looking up to Akane for rescue. The black-haired girl in the yellow-and-blue striped one-piece bathing suit offered none. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Emi giggled. “Oh, definitely not. But whatever it is she’s talking about, Crash, Shin and Norio all needed a cigarette after it. Saw ‘em in the hall on the way down.”
“They did not!” Ranko hid her flushed face with her hands. If she thought the move was stopping people from staring, it was in fact having exactly the opposite effect.
Akane shrugged, smirking at her wife even as she answered Emi. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t mean it. All of you in the band have something you play with to make music, and well…” She dragged her fingers gently down the back of Ranko’s neck, eliciting a quiet whimper from her. “So do I.”
Hitomi giggled. “For sure! That last note… Ems, do you think that was an O-5 or an O-6?”
“Shaduuuuuupp,” Ranko pleaded with a quiet whine as the elevator door opened, darting through it to escape the girls’ teasing.
“Excuse me,” she overheard Jacob ask the clerk in English at the reception desk as she hustled past him toward the hotel’s front door, hiding her face in her palm. “You guys don’t happen to sell earplugs in the gift shop, do you?”
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“Oof!”
Emi giggled in her white bikini, gazing through the net at Crash sprawled on his stomach in the hot sand. He wore no shirt, no shoes, and a pair of green floral board shorts, and his black Ray-Ban sunglasses lay in the sand a few centimeters from his face. “Awwww, so close!”
“But, not close enough,” Ranko said, stalking across the sand and giving her friend high-fives with both hands as Jacob helped Crash to his feet.
“Woooooo, girls team! Score more points!” Hitomi cheered loudly from her lounge chair, in a hot pink sports bra and a black bikini bottom, as she watched the action unfold.
Ranko laughed. “Yikes. We’re gonna have to work on your cheerleading technique, ‘Tomi.”
The brunette shrugged with a bright grin under her neon green sunglasses. “Sorry, Ran-chan. I traded in my pom-poms for mai tais today.”
“It’s not a fair match,” Ken said with a groan, laughing as he tossed the white volleyball back over the net to Akane. “You’ve got a ringer!”
Ranko laughed loudly, shaking her head piteously at her drummer. “I mean, it’s not like you guys didn’t know she’s a volleyball champion when you challenged us! Besides…” Ranko lay her fingers limply across her chin, cocking her head cutely under her white straw hat. “I thought you boys were supposed to be so much better at sports than us silly girls.” She gave a disappointed little click of her tongue, pursing her lips and shaking her head as if admonishing a misbehaving puppy.
“Shin! Get over here! We need a hand!” Crash waved frantically to the bassist, who sat in a nearby chaise lounge chair in a long white shirt that was unbuttoned open to reveal his abs and the waistband of his black board shorts. His shorts were decorated with white zig-zag lines all over in some sort of tribal pattern.
“Maybe in a little bit. My hands are full.” Shinji raised his arms, showing off the two beers in clear plastic cups he held.
“Don’t worry, Shin,” Akane said with a laugh as carried the ball to the back line to serve. “They’re not gonna last much longer anyway. What’s the score, anyway?”
Ranko giggled, knowing full well her wife already knew it. “That would be Princesses fourteen, Dragons five.” She waggled an open palm across the net at Crash tauntingly, extending all five of her fingers.
“Aww, shit,” Ken groaned in exhaustion as the ball rocketed over the tall net. “Look out, Crash! Comin’ to you!”
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“I told you she’d come,” Crash said, reaching over and squeezing the redheaded girl walking next to him on the sand in a side hug.
Ranko smiled hopefully. “It’s so surreal that she’s here.” She gazed across the beach at the woman in the blue-and-yellow bathing suit, who was currently fourth in line at the beachside tiki bar. “Even if it’s just for a couple days.” Her voice darkened considerably at the prospect of her wife going home.
Crash sighed slowly, lowering his voice despite none of their companions having a chance to hear them over the crashing waves. “You’re gonna try to convince her to stay, aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Ranko looked up at him questioningly.
The guitarist nodded. “I mean, try, I guess. And I wish you the best of luck. Just… don’t get your hopes up, okay? You were finally starting to sort of get over it and come out of your shell a little bit, and I don’t want you boarding yourself back up in your room and moping if it doesn’t go the way you want.”
Ranko bobbed her head. “I know. I’ll try, Crash. She’s just…”
The tall blond man rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. She’s your everything, you can’t live without her, blah, blah, blah. You girls are so fucking clingy sometimes.”
The redhead giggled as she was tickled by something buzzing in her friend’s pocket against her bare hip. “Speaking of clingy girls…”
Crash groaned, pulling the pager out of his pocket and checking the number, though there was little point; there was no suspense about who was calling him. “I swear, that girl’s gonna drive me batty with this fucking thing.”
Ranko waved her hand, laughing brightly. “Oh, you haven’t seen the half of how far up in your business Ukyo can get when she really wants to. Trust me on this one. But she loves you, and she misses you. Quit your bitching, and take the win.”
“Yeah, yeah… you see a payphone around here anywhere?” Crash scoured the beach, but Ranko tugged on his wrist, pointing him toward the side of the building where the tiki bar was. “Over there by the bathrooms.”
He turned to make his way in the direction she pointed, but Ranko pulled him back. “Hey, before you go, real quick. Would you be okay if we swapped out Worthy of You in tomorrow’s set with the new one we worked on Tuesday? Not for the whole tour, just this one show.”
Crash laughed, his eyes falling on Akane again as she made her way back toward the pair with a red frozen drink in each hand. “I can’t imagine why you might wanna do that! I don’t mind, but let me check with everybody and make sure they’re comfortable with the music and stuff. We won’t have graphics for the video board or anything for it, though.”
Ranko grinned. “I don’t care about that. Thanks, bud. Now, shoo. Don’t keep Ukyo waiting, and tell her I said hi.”
He laughed. “Will do. But if we change up the set list the day of the show, you’re telling Masa. Dude’s gonna have a fuckin’ stroke.”
The songstress blushed. “As long as he doesn’t light me on fire. It’s hot enough out here as it is!”