“Hello.”
“Akane! Hi! Omigods, I’ve missed you so much! I lov…”
“You have reached the Tendo residence. I’m sorry, but no one’s here to take your call right now. Please leave a message at the beep and we’ll get back to you just as soon as we can. Have a great day!”
The joy in Ranko’s eyes faded instantly, and by the time the sad little beep came through the receiver of the payphone mounted to the wall just outside the mens’ room between gates 78 and 80 of the Eagle Farm international terminal, her voice was a hollow shell of the excitement it had carried a moment before.
“Hey, Akane. It’s me. We just landed safe in Brisbane. We’re waiting for our ride now. I wish you’d pick up. I don’t know if you’re not home, or home and just don’t wanna talk to me, but… I miss you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I’ll call again when I have the number at the hotel and our room numbers and stuff. Please call me back?”
She dejectedly returned the receiver to its cradle, turning away from the telephone to find Crash standing behind her. Crash held up the little black pager he’d just turned back on after deplaning, which was still buzzing as it caught up with all of the messages that had been sent to it in the four hours they’d been airborne en route from Auckland.
“I swear, when we get home, I am gonna cram this thing so far up her…”
Ranko sighed. “I’ll trade you. At least your girl wants to talk to you.”
Crash winced. “Sorry. Still nothing?”
The redhead shook her head. “Not since Honolulu. I really fucked up bad this time, Crash.”
Ranko’s friend stepped closer, pulling the slight girl into his arms. “It’s gonna be alright, Ran-chan. She promised she’d be there when you get home. She didn’t take her ring off or nothin’, and I’m sure the girls would tell you if there were, like, moving trucks outside your apartment and shit. I’m sure she’s just taking some time to blow off some steam before you talk. I mean, you know how it is. I swear, girls are just fucked up in the heads sometimes!” He blushed, stammering a little. “Uh… present company excluded, of course.”
Ranko managed a chuckle, shaking her head. “Nah, Crash. Present company chief among them.” She craned her neck past the guitarist, scanning the terminal with her eyes. “How’s Ken?”
Crash laughed. “Still in the bathroom. I swear, that dude has the stomach of a…”
The redhead shook her head admonishingly. “Aww, don’t pick on him. It’s not his fault. He just doesn’t do too good on planes.” She cringed slightly. “Or cars. Or boats.”
The blond guitarist shrugged. “Hope they got lots of trains around here, I guess.”
Ranko turned her eyes to the sign above the entrance to the main terminal, scouring its list of amenities. A symbol featuring a white animal in a red square caught her eye, and she pointed to it excitedly. “Hey, is that what I think it is? Maybe we could rent him a kangaroo to ride around town!”
“Dude! Do they do that?! Ride kangaroos, I mean?” Crash’s eyes widened excitedly.
“I dunno, maybe? I guess it’d be like those weird two-legged things in Star Wars?” Ranko shrugged, managing a little giggle. “Or like a chocobo in those video games Mei likes.”
Crash laughed loudly. “Well, if they do, we are definitely getting some! Where you think they do the rentals? You think you can like, joust on ‘em, like those old-timey knights and stuff?”
“How the fuck should I know, dipshit? I’ve been here just as long as you! Who the hell do you think I am, the mayor’s wife?!” Ranko rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief as she chuckled. Fuckin’ boys.
“He wishes,” Crash said, grabbing the handle of Ranko’s carryon bag and wheeling it behind himself to leave her arms free to cradle Starlight. After a few steps, he pointed excitedly to a red square sign featuring the silhouette of a white kangaroo. “Hey! There! It’s the kangaroo desk! Qantas. You think that’s how they say kangaroo in Australian?”
Ranko cradled her forehead in her palm. “I’m pretty sure that’s just kangaroo, dumbass.”
“What the hell are you two idiots doing?!”
Crash pointed up to the sign from the back of the line, turning back to Jacob with an excited grin. “Kangaroo rentals, dude!”
Jacob groaned, his shoulders slumping and his head shaking in stunned amusement as he turned to walk toward luggage terminal I. “Fucking hopeless, both of them, I swear to God.”
----------------------------------------
Ranko fidgeted nervously in the narrow hallway outside unit 402, picking at her fingernails and rocking her weight back and forth on her silver cheerleading sneakers. She wore her yellow dress with the flock of doves and roses, her loose ponytail pulled back in a white ribbon, along with her silver-and-diamond star necklace and a pair of silver star-shaped earrings.
“For real, girl. You wanna take a breath?” Jake laughed, nudging Ranko’s bare forearm with his fist. “You look more scared shitless than when we go on stage.”
The redhead looked down at her feet, blushing. “When people buy tickets to our show, I already know they like me.”
“Oh, stop with the self-deprecating act. You’re fucking awes…” Jacob’s voice cut off as the door to the apartment was pulled open. “Hey, you!”
As Jacob and his partner embraced, Ranko looked them over. Zoe was short for an Australian - only a few centimeters taller than Ranko herself. Their hair was short and spiky, like Orochi’s would be if he let it grow out a bit more, and dyed a bright pink - almost the color of Ranko’s signature in the band’s logo - with a white streak of highlights down the left side. They had spiked piercings jutting out of the backs of both of their earlobes. Zoe wore a purple princess vest-style shirt that exposed several tattoos wrapped around both of their arms. Below that, they wore a pair of black jeans, the legs of which were all torn up as if they’d been washed with a bag full of razor blades, and a pink leather collar, the front of which was molded into the shape of a star. Their eyes were a bright teal behind the round rose-colored fashion sunglasses they wore.
“Hello. You’re welcome at my house,” Zoe said in Japanese, bowing to Ranko and her bandmates as Jake released them from the hug.
Not perfect, but not bad, Ranko thought as she returned the bow. “Hi, Zoe! It’s so good to finally meet you!”
Standing behind her in his trademark leather jacket, Crash returned a shallow bow, laughing as he did. “Jake’s told us lots of really good lies about you.” To his right, Shinji waved wordlessly.
The quartet was ushered into Zoe’s apartment, which was the absolute portrait of chaos. Laundry was piled on every conceivable surface - on the floor, the couch, the drum set in the corner of the living room, and even a shirt tossed over the corner of the television set. The carpet was a dingy brown; Ranko wasn’t entirely sure if it was originally that color or just hadn’t been vacuumed in three years. A collection of barrettes, magazines, and the odd Chinese takeout container dominated the little glass coffee table. No two pieces of furniture in the room matched, other than that all of them were equally shabby, as if they’d been collected from thrift stores and people discarding things they no longer needed in front of the apartment building’s dumpster. Posters for various bands were hung on the living room walls with scotch tape and thumbtacks, including one featuring the cover art for Wild Orchid.
Gods, I’d be mortified if anyone saw my place like this, Ranko thought. Her disgusted grimace morphed into a soft smile, rolling her eyes and laughing silently at her thoughts. Yeah, that’s me. Ranko Tendo, ex-boy, and domestic goddess. Sure glad I dressed up to impress her.
“Happy to see you straightened up the place for us, babe,” Jake said with a chuckle as he tossed an olive green dress and a pair of black shorts to the floor and sat in the space on the couch it had created.
“This is straightened up,” Zoe said, laughing as they leaned on the wall. The couple had switched to English in their conversation.
“So, Zoe King,” Jake said, gesturing around the room. “This is Crash Matsuyama and Shinji Yokota. And this…”
Zoe waved their hand to the boys, rolling their eyes at Jacob. “I know who the chick whose face has been taped to my wall for two years is, ya wanker. Hi, Ranko.”
Ranko waved from her standing position near the door. “Hi!” She smiled brightly, trying to focus on the person and not their surroundings. “It’s so good to finally put a face with the name. Jake talks about you all the time!”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The pink-haired Australian grinned, nodding at their boyfriend. “Yeah, he’s a good guy, even if sometimes he is easier to deal with when you pawn him off on a rock star in Japan for a couple’a years.”
“Listen here, you little shit…” Jacob approached Zoe with a mockingly threatening posture, before wrapping them in his arms and lowering his head to kiss them.
Crash nudged Ranko gently in her ribs. “Maybe we oughta go. They haven’t gotten much alone time in a while.”
The green-haired keyboardist broke the kiss, turning to his friends. “Nah, don’t be like that. Besides… me an’ Zo have news on that front. We wanted to wait to tell ya until we could do it together. You wanna tell ‘em, babe?”
Oh, no, Ranko thought, gasping quietly to herself. Is he leaving the band?
“Well,” Zoe said, grinning up at Jacob. “Our plan had always been for Jakey to finish architecture school in Japan, while I wrapped up my master’s degree here. When we were done, he’d come back here to `Straya to stay.”
Shin turned to Crash, his eyes wide, with a sinister sneer on his face. “Jakey?” he mouthed silently.
“But,” Zoe continued, “that was before he fell in with you lot. And well, now it looks like he’s not gonna be designing buildings anytime soon. But, while there’s kids everywhere I can teach, there’s only one place on Earth where Jakey can be a Dapper Dragon. So, change of plans - I’m gonna move to Japan instead!”
Ranko squealed loudly. “No shit?! That’s so awesome, Zoe! When are you coming?”
Zoe smiled as Jacob squeezed them around the waist. “I’m finishing up my last exams and stuff in the next couple of weeks, and then it’s just about getting my shit together and getting out there. So, by the end of May at the latest, I should officially be settled in!”
“That’s fantastic! Ukyo was so bummed she didn’t get to meet you! Now all the Dragon partners can finally hang out!” Crash beamed.
“Yeah,” Ranko said, smirking. “We’ll have a party! We’ll invite Zoe, and Akane, and Ukyo, and Ryo, and Shin’s hand, and… hey!” The redhead ducked as Shinji hurled an empty beer can he found on the floor in her direction. It bounced off a Pink Floyd poster on the wall and skittered into a corner, where it joined three of its mates.
“You’re gonna have to find a new place when she gets out there, Jakey. I don’t think you’ve got enough room in that little studio you rent for a fucking goldfish.” Shinji smirked, pulling out the wadded black Pantera shirt that was wadded up under his backside on the yellowing couch and tossing it to the cluttered floor.
Jacob blushed, turning to his friend. “So, Shin? I know it’s a little weird if you’re used to the way they taught you English in school, and without all the -chans and -kuns and stuff, but Zoe uses they and them instead of she and her. So, like, whenever you’d say ano kata in Japanese, use they instead.”
“Huh? I thought they was for like… more than one person,” Shinji replied in Japanese, looking up at Zoe quizzically as he spoke to their boyfriend.
“It normally is, but it’s….” Jacob sighed, switching back to English. “Like, if I said to you in English, my boss was mean, and you didn’t know if they were male or female, you’d say what did they say? It’s the same idea.”
Shinji blinked in confusion. “Okay… and why do you do that exactly? Seems… complicated.”
Jake nodded. “It can be. Zo, babe, would you please explain? I’m still kinda getting used to it myself, and I don’t wanna screw it up.”
Zoe smiled, pulling out a wicker chair from under their dining room table. They shook it off, letting the various detritus on the seat to fall to the floor before pulling it more into the center of the cluttered room and turning it backward to straddle it.
“Sure. It’s kind of a new thing, for me, and generally, so, I don’t expect a lot of people have heard of it. I picked it up from my friend Lee a few months ago at school, and it just sort of… fits me, I guess. It means something different and personal to everybody anyway. So, just because I say this, doesn’t mean it’s the same for everybody who refers to themselves this way. It’s just how I see myself.
“Basically, here’s the idea. Everything you think about when somebody says boy or girl, male or female, is there because it’s sort of the pattern a lot of folks follow. You think of a boy, and you think of leather jackets, rough and tumble, muscles and stubble, cussing while they drink a beer and mow the grass. Like, Shinji over there. That’s what the average person would think of if I told ‘em to close their eyes and picture a boy.”
Zoe’s eyes turned toward the door. “And then you think of a girl, and you think of earrings and painted fingernails, and small and slight, and soft smiles and pretty dresses and bows in their hair. Cooking dinner, drinking fruity little cocktails and wine spritzers, giggling about the latest gossip and bein’ all prim and proper. Being a lady. Like Ranko over there. That’s a hundred percent what you would picture if I said, draw me a girl.”
Ranko blushed furiously, saying nothing.
“But those patterns don’t fit everybody. That’s what the world has decided a stereotypical boy and a stereotypical girl are, and it doesn’t leave a lot of room for variance. For originality. If Shin wore a dress, or Ranko was chewing spitting tobacco, lots of people would look at them and say, they’re not supposed to do that. Well, why the hell not? Is it because of the bits they fuck with? Because that doesn’t seem like it oughtta be anybody’s fuckin’ business anyway.
“Being… what I am, whatever you wanna call it, means not letting anatomy determine the way I feel or behave. At least, that’s what it means to me, anyhow. I get to pick and choose the parts of what the world calls being a boy and the parts the world calls being a girl that I like, and I don’t have to pick the same things today that I picked yesterday. And sometimes I don’t really feel like picking either. And that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with the way Ranko and Shin do it, either. It’s about doing what feels right to you, in the moment, and not askin’ your naughty bits for permission first.
“I basically tell the world, if you’re gonna judge whether everything I say, wear and do is okay just because of whether or not I’m a girl, well, then I’m not gonna be a girl. And I’m not gonna flip a switch and burn all my skirts and say, now I’m Mr. Zoe and yes-sir this, no-sir that, either. I’m just gonna be Zo, and the world doesn’t get to apply some template to me based on being a boy or a girl to figure me out. If they wanna understand me, there’s no shortcuts. They’re just gonna have to fuckin’ get to know me.”
Where the hell was that concept a few years ago when I could’ve used it, Ranko thought, blushing. Am I… whatever that is? Somewhere between? She flushed further, trying to look away and hide it without being too obvious. I mean, there was a time, right after the Cat’s Tongue, where I didn’t really feel like a boy or a girl, so I get where they’re coming from. I mean, it didn’t feel exactly like that for me, but Zo said it’s different for everybody. Their outlook on it doesn’t have to be mine. And besides, Zo’s never heard of Jusenkyo.
But now, I do pretty much everything the way people would expect a girl to do it. Maybe that’s ‘cause of Izzi and everybody’s influence, but… I like it. Most of the time, anyway. And, I guess I didn’t have to do all of this to be a “real girl.” I could’ve never worn dresses, like Mom, or worn my hair short like Yui, or stuck with sports and martial arts like Akane. And I mean, Ukyo? Forget about it. All this stuff that I thought, “this is what I have to do because I’m a girl,” I know at least one girl who doesn’t do that, and they’re no less girls than I am. In fact, they’re the same women I’ve looked up to all this time.
Ranko glanced up at the blond boy leaning against the wall, between Zoe’s drum set and the sliding door leading out to the fire escape. I mean, hell, if I was trying to check every box and be the perfect stereotypical girl in society’s eyes, I’d probably be wearing Crash’s ring right now and not Akane’s.
Shinji nodded, a mystified expression on his face. “Well, shit. I didn’t realize it was all that complicated. Sorry I called ya she, then.”
With a shrug and a smile, Zoe waved their hand at him. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m still figurin’ it all out, too. I mean, all of us are, really. Besides, I still use she and her sometimes too, when the mood strikes. It doesn’t offend me or nothin’. Just do your best, don’t call me he or him, and we’re good.” Zoe reached out, giving Jacob a tight squeeze around his ribs with a bright smile up at their boyfriend. “You can call me his, though.”
Jake nodded, reaching across the coffee table and giving his partner’s hand a squeeze. “If you feel more comfortable, given all the language weirdness, just say Zoe.”
Zoe grinned. “That works, too. But anyway. Enough’a all that stuffy shit. What all have you all been up to since you got in town? Ready for the first show?”
Zoe’s boyfriend smirked. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told ya, Zo-zo. These dumbshits tried to rent a goddamn roo at the airport!”
“Dare I ask?” Zoe’s face drooped into their hand, their pink glasses sliding into their palm. “Yeah. I’m gonna. What on God’s green earth made you decide you needed to rent a fuckin’ kangaroo?!”
Ranko shrugged, giggling brightly. “I didn’t think we could afford to buy one, and it’s not like they’d let us bring it on the plane.”
Jacob shook his head, squeezing Zoe around their shoulders. “Look, I know they’re not too bright, but at least they’re cute. Whaddya think, babe, can we keep ‘em?”