Ranko padded barefoot into the living room of her apartment, looking it over with sleep-crusted eyes. She wore a yellow nightgown, her hair matted to one side, having slept the night before with her head in Akane’s lap while the elder girl studied her organic chemistry book.
Oh, Akane, what am I gonna do with you?
The sink overflowed with plastic leftover containers, and the trash can overflowed with energy drink cans and snack wrappers just outside the kitchen. The floor itself was in dire need of a broom, nearly every surface bore a thin layer of dust, and it had been abundantly clear when she’d gotten home on Monday morning that the bathroom hadn’t been cleaned the whole time she’d been on tour, either. The couch was buried in discarded clothing, most of it inside-out, implying it had been worn and left there dirty.
A large pile of unopened mail dominated the right side of the dining room table, along with a small arrangement of yellow tulips and white daisies in a little white wicker basket. It had been delivered yesterday, a gift from the girls’ father and Akane’s sisters. The card expressed well-wishes for Hana, as well as a welcome home message for Ranko.
I love you too, Dad. Thanks for thinking of us, even though I’m guessing it was Kasumi’s idea.
Ranko sighed heavily. Alright. International pop star mode, off. Housewife mode, on. Where to even start with all of this? She pulled the pantry door open, retrieving her pink princess apron from the nail hammered into the inside of the door and slipping it over her head. She doubted she needed it over her nightgown, but the thought of it made her feel cute, and that made the daunting backlog of chores feel a bit more bearable somehow.
She crept quietly into the bathroom as she tied the apron behind her back, peeking through the door connecting the narrow room to the bedroom. Akane still slept, sitting up in the bed with her back against the headboard, and Ranko smiled softly at her. I don’t dare wake her to get her more comfortable. She won’t go back to sleep if I do. Snickering at Akane’s loud snoring, she pulled the door closed as quietly as she could, pulling the laundry closet in the bathroom open and popping the round windowed door of the washing machine. Sure, baby. You don’t snore. Whatever you say.
Ranko crept quietly out to the living room, beginning to gather the laundry strewn about the room. She left only the white socks behind, as those would not go in the same load as the colored clothes in her arms. I’ll do those with the whites, but the rest of those are in the bedroom, and getting them would wake Akane up. She stuffed the load of shirts and pants into the machine, adding a scoop of powdered detergent and pushing the silver knob inward to trigger the delicate wash cycle. She hadn’t quite mastered what laundry settings to use for what items, so other than bulky towels - which had their own labeled setting on the washer - she typically washed everything on the same don’t ruin the panties and dresses setting Izumi had told her to use, and it seemed to work out okay most of the time.
Alright. Gotta get dressed before I can take the trash out; don’t need anybody seeing me in this. And my clean clothes are in the bedroom, so… dishes, I guess.
Ranko turned the cold water knob on the kitchen faucet to its highest setting, and then began to carefully turn the knob until the red line on the resin knob aligned with the one painted in red nail polish on the stainless steel surface of the sink. Akane had marked it for her a few weeks after the wedding, as when the hot water knob was at that precise position with the cold water tap fully open, the water temperature was reasonably comfortable on her hypersensitive skin. At least I don’t have to do everything on full blast cold, now that I don’t gotta worry about a boy busting out of my nightgown, she thought with a soft smile. Still, she donned her yellow latex gloves as a precaution before scooping up a musty-smelling piece of plasticware and popping open the dishwasher with her foot.
“Once upon a rhyme, not so far away, our girl washed dishes that have been here since Thursday,” Ranko sang under her breath with a slight smirk as she passed the square plastic tub under the water and positioned it in the top rack of the dishwasher. The plastic leftover containers made up nearly all of the pile, save chopsticks and spoons – no doubt, Ranko’s sisters had pitched in to keep Akane fed while she was away, much as they had when her leg was injured and she was unable to cook for her wife. She picked up a round orange container, smiling at it in recognition. It was her mother’s, and Hana usually sent them home with some leftovers in it after the family’s shared holiday meals.
You’re not done, buddy. You don’t get to retire. Not yet. We’re gonna have more Christmases and birthdays and all kinds of shit together, and Mom’s gonna fill you with all sorts of stuff. You’ll see. She’s gonna beat this. She has to. We need her. I need her.
Ranko plopped the container and its lid into the dishwasher. She reached into the sink for a soup bowl, but when she turned to place it in the top rack of the appliance, she was startled by someone standing next to her.
“Silly girl, I didn’t expect you to do all this. I was gonna do it all before you got home! Before I knew you were coming home early, anyway.” Akane smiled softly, reaching out and playing with a sleep-matted strand of her lover’s red hair.
The redhead winced. “Shit, Akane, did I wake you? I’m sorry! I was trying to be quiet.” She deposited the bowl in the dishwasher, shutting off the water tap and pulling off her latex gloves. “I think I’ve got the kitchen put together enough that I can cook in here, if you want breakfast.” Ranko tittered briefly, glancing at the refrigerator. “Assuming we have groceries in there, and I haven’t forgotten how to do this, anyway. It’s been a few weeks, after all.”
Akane laughed, shaking her head with a smile. “Come here to me, princess.” As Ranko stepped closer, the larger girl wrapped her in her arms, giving her a tight squeeze. She leaned down, resting her chin on Ranko’s shoulder and breathing deep of the scent of her. “Gods, I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, I can tell,” Ranko said over her laughter as she nuzzled into Akane’s chest. “The place looks like a typhoon hit it, and I bet you’ve lost a couple kilos since I’ve been gone!”
“That’s not why I missed you, and you know it, little miss.” Akane kicked the dishwasher closed with her foot, picking her giggling wife up and carrying her back into the dining area. She gently deposited Ranko in one of the chairs. Akane grinned, resting her hands on the back of the chair on either side of Ranko’s shoulders. “I just wanna look at you for a minute.”
Ranko blushed, shrinking under Akane’s gaze and hiding her face with her hands. “Oh, please. I must look awful.”
“You are absolutely beautiful,” Akane said gently, beaming down at her wife. “Did you know that?”
“Nuh-uh! I haven’t even brushed my hair or gotten dressed yet! I look terrible!” The redhead shyly curled up in her seated position, trying further to hide from her lover’s gaze.
Ranko’s eyes widened as Akane took her firmly by the wrists, pulling her hands down and pinning them to the tops of her thighs so that she could not obscure her face. Akane’s voice took on an insistent, almost admonishing, firmness. “I said… You. Are. Beautiful. And I want you to sit and relax. You don’t need to fly home all night from fucking Australia and clean up after me. I’ll take care of this stuff.”
The redhead smiled sweetly. “I don’t mind, Akane. I’ve missed taking care of you, and I can’t just sit here and watch you do the work.”
Akane shook her head. “You can, and you will. Besides, you’re gonna be busy.”
With a shrug, Ranko looked around the room. “Doing what? Nabiki and Crash are handling the band stuff, and Izzi’s up at the hospital.”
Reaching down with a smile, Akane poked her on the nose. “Sitting there and looking adorable for me. It’s a big job, you know. C’mon, gimme that apron.”
Ranko’s head swayed left and right in the negative as she crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “The looking adorable part, I guess I can do, but I’m at least gonna help you deal with this mess.”
Akane chuckled deviously. “If you say so. But let’s work on the adorable part first. Stay there a second; I’ll be right back.” She gave a cute little wave and disappeared back into the bedroom, returning in a moment with a green paddle hairbrush and four lengths of satin ribbon, two red and two yellow. She laid the ribbons on the table alongside the brush, leaning over Ranko’s shoulder from behind.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Four ribbons?” Ranko blushed. “Seems like a bit much, but if you wa…. Hey!” Ranko’s eyes widened as Akane grabbed her left wrist, pulling it down and behind the back of the chair. “What are you doing?”
Akane reached over her wife’s shoulder again, taking one of the red ribbons while still restraining Ranko’s left wrist. In a flash, she’d used the half-meter-long piece of red satin to lash Ranko’s arm to the back of the wooden dining chair.
“Akane! What the heck are you… hey, stop that!” Before Ranko could adjust, though, her right wrist was in Akane’s grasp, and she soon found both of her arms tied tightly behind her back through the latticed chair back, the second red ribbon woven through the silver dragon bracelet coiled around her wrist for added security.
Akane reached through the slats in the chair back, untying the sash holding Ranko’s apron around her back, before reaching over her and lifting it off of her. “There. Next time I tell you to sit still, you should listen.” Grinning, Akane slipped the apron over her own neck and began to tie it behind herself, despite having no serious concern about dirtying the gray Minato University Athletics tee shirt she’d slept in the night before.
“But, I… it’s no fair!” Ranko pouted as Akane giggled at her plight.
“Keep complaining, and I’ll take your nightgown, too.” Akane’s devious sneer sent a shiver up Ranko’s spine, and the younger girl was entirely sure her wife intended to make good on her threat if necessary. Having finished securing the apron around her back, Akane reached down for the hairbrush, turning it so that the bristles were pointed downward toward the floor. She slid it under Ranko’s chin, using it to lift her lover’s face until she was making eye contact. “Smile for me, beautiful.”
Despite being entirely stunned by Akane’s actions, despite her exhaustion and worry, and despite her cheeks burning hot enough to cook an egg on, Ranko found it easy to comply. Akane pulled the hairbrush back, walking around Ranko’s chair and beginning to gently untangle her wife’s crimson mane.
Ranko whimpered, rubbing her thighs together like a cricket as she squirmed in the chair. “Akane… this isn’t fair. You know what it does to me when you mess with my hair…”
Akane snickered, leaning down and giving the restrained girl a gentle kiss on her neck, just below her right ear, before lifting her head slightly to whisper into it. “Do I? It’s been a while. I might have forgotten. You should probably tell me again, just in case.”
Ranko’s face somehow grew redder still as she sharply inhaled, her whole body stiffening under the feel of Akane’s breath on her skin. “It m… makes me wanna…”
With a taunting giggle, Akane cut her off with another kiss to her neck, causing Ranko’s sentence to die in her throat with a quiet gasp. Again, Akane whispered in her wife’s ear, this time on the left side. “I don’t think you’re in a position to do anything right now. Maybe you should try that again, princess?”
Ranko lowered her eyes and turned her head to the side, trying in vain to hide her face despite having no access to her hands to do it with. She understood exactly what Akane wanted from her. “It makes me want you to play with me.”
Akane gathered the right half of Ranko’s red hair in her hand, corralling it into a pigtail in her hand. Before she secured it, she pulled it to the side, forcibly tilting Ranko’s head to the right and exposing the left side of her neck wide. “That’s better.” Holding her hair tight, Akane leaned down and tauntingly gently blew cold air over Ranko’s shoulder, grinning as a mountain range of goosebumps appeared instantly. “Good girl.”
The quivering redhead did her best to sit still as Akane secured the right side of her hair in a white elastic before tying one of the yellow ribbons around it in a large bow. Prepared though she was for it, she still gasped involuntarily when Akane forcefully yanked her head to the left side, repeating the gesture and teasing her newly-exposed right shoulder as she had the left.
Once Ranko’s second pigtail was tied off and decorated with the second yellow ribbon, Akane walked around the chair to stand in front of her restrained lover again. “There.” She smiled down at her blushing bride, seemingly proud of her accomplishment. “Now. Tell me what a pretty girl you are. I want to hear you say it.”
“I’m your pretty girl,” Ranko whimpered quietly, her face a brighter red than her newly-styled hair as she tried again to hide her face against her shoulder. The utterly failed attempt only widened Akane’s smile of pride in her handiwork.
Akane reached down, softly resting her hand on her wife’s cheek. “Damn straight. And you always will be. Don’t you dare forget it.” Akane leaned down, kissing the restrained girl on the lips and receiving an enthusiastic response from her as Ranko pleaded wordlessly not to be left in the state she was presently in.
“Now, let’s see.” Akane looked around the apartment, making a show of sighing heavily. “There’s a lot to do here, and I’m nowhere near as efficient at this as my wife. Heck, this might take me all day.” She flashed a smirk down at her lover. “But you’re not going anywhere, are ya?”
“I… I guess not,” Ranko mewled as Akane resumed loading the dishwasher.
Akane grinned up at her wife as she deposited another plastic tub in the upper rack of the appliance. “So, Zoe played drums for you when Ken got sick? How’d they do?”
“Good. Really good! I felt so bad for Ken, though. I guess it’s better that he wasn’t there for all the shit hitting the fan when you guys called. Fuck, I’m glad Crash had that beeper.” Ranko sighed, her worry about her mother and her drummer both dampening the mood Akane had put her in somewhat.
Akane nodded as she started the dishwasher. “Well, we’re getting you your own pager before you go out for the next part of the tour. We’re lucky Ukyo was at the bar; I didn’t even have the number for Crash’s to reach you guys.”
“Aw, man,” Ranko whined. “I won’t be able to pick on Crash for getting his leash yanked anymore, if I’m gonna have my own.” She blushed furiously at the devious look in Akane’s eyes in response to her statement, deciding not to press the topic further.
Without breaking stride as she moved between the kitchen and the bathroom, Akane reached down and dragged her fingers over the back of her lover’s neck, eliciting another quiet whine from the restrained girl. She said nothing, pulling the washer open and beginning to transfer its contents into the dryer just below it. As she tossed the olive dress Ranko had borrowed from Emi into the machine, the telephone mounted to the kitchen wall began to ring.
“Aw, come on, Ranko, you’re not going to get the phone?” Akane sneered devilishly at her love as she passed the chair she was tied to again, picking up the receiver. “Hello? Tendo residence.”
Ranko craned her neck, trying to hear who was on the other end of the phone. After all, it could have been news about her mother. Akane stretched the coiled cord as far as it would go, walking around behind Ranko’s chair as she pinned the receiver to her ear with her shoulder.
“Yeah, Shi’ri. Ranko got in late last night.” As Akane spoke, her left hand cupped over Ranko’s mouth, pressed tight against her lips. She reached down, pulling Ranko’s nightdress up a little and running her fingers over the bare skin of her lover’s ribcage. Akane grinned at the sensation of air trying to leave Ranko’s quivering lips and finding no space for sound to form behind her hand.
“Yeah, she can’t come to the phone right now. She just got back, and you know how it is. So much to do. She’s just really tied up right now. You understand.” Akane’s gentle fingers became a quick pinching tickle, which the restrained woman could neither defend herself against, nor plead for mercy from. Ranko squirmed desperately against the ribbons tied to her wrists and Akane’s grasping hands, neither giving her any quarter.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her,” Akane said into the telephone, grinning down into Ranko’s eyes wolfishly as her tickling gave way back to gentle teasing of her lover’s hypersensitive skin. “I promise.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I have it on good authority that she’s really excited to get her hands on her new cheer uniform, so I’m sure she won’t miss it. Okay. I gotta run; I wanna keep the line clear in case anybody from the hospital calls. Take care, Shiori!” Akane winked at Ranko as she removed her hand from the redhead’s lips, walking over to the wall and returning the telephone receiver to its cradle.
“You are so bad,” Ranko said, her neon crimson face wearing the most sincere smile Akane had seen on it since her wife had been back in Japan.
Akane giggled, walking over to the front of the chair. “Well, I didn’t hear you complaining. Oh, wait. I guess you couldn’t, huh?”
Ranko rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “Look here, you little shit. I’m gonna…” She trailed off as Akane straddled the chair, sitting on the helpless girl’s lap facing her.
“Yeah? You’re gonna what?” Akane poked her lover on the nose, smirking victoriously at her.
The redhead’s cheeks burned. “Well, I’m gonna… I’m… I’m…"
“That’s what I thought.” Akane grinned, picking up one of Ranko’s pigtails and running the tip of it down the side of her neck agonizingly slowly. “Now, if you’re done being sassy, I’ve got a much better use in mind for your mouth.”
Ranko offered no further complaint as Akane’s lips met hers.