Ranko took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened, stepping out into the long, sterile hallway. After four days, she’d mastered the labyrinthine layout of the fourth floor of Ikebara Hospital, and she made a left turn, heading for the cardiac care unit. Pushing through the pine double doors with her backside, Ranko waved to one of the nurses she’d been friendly with over the last few days. With her arms full, she could only wiggle her fingers. “Hey, Hinako! Brought ya somethin’!”
The nurse turned to regard the two boxes of donuts in the redhead’s arms, grinning a bit as she kicked the brakes on the cart she was pushing. “You know, you and your sisters are gonna kill us with all the food you’ve been bringing us.”
Ranko shook her head, handing her the boxes. “Nah, you’ll be fine. We just appreciate what good care you’ve been taking of our mom, and we want to say thank you, that’s all.” She blushed a bit. “Sorry, today’s offering isn’t homemade; I’m better at cooking than baking.” I should practice that some more, I guess.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Hinako said, opening the top box and pulling out a dark brown glazed donut. “I suppose I can forgive you, just this once, but only because you brought me chocolate.” She giggled, biting into the confection.
Ranko adjusted the pink backpack on her back, which she wore over a fuschia satin blouse and a blue denim pencil skirt. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a matching pink ribbon, and she’d finished the outfit with a pair of white chunky heels. “How is she today?”
“Good,” Hinako said through a mouthful of donut, swallowing before she continued. “Seems to be getting a lot stronger. A couple more days, and we should be able to get her out of here.”
Ranko smiled brightly. “That’d be great! I’m gonna go see her, cool?” Receiving a nod in reply from the chewing nurse, she made for the fifth door on the left, room 422, and pushed the door open.
“Morning, Mama!” Ranko smiled brightly, waving to Hana.
The color in Hana’s face had largely returned, and her bed had been adjusted so that she was nearly fully sitting up. She had been watching the news on the small television mounted on the wall with a swivel arm, the sound coming out of a tinny little speaker tethered to the bed that also served as the television’s remote control. “Hey, little star. What are you doing here today?”
Ranko blushed, setting her backpack down on the mauve vinyl chair in the corner of the room and beginning to unzip it. “Well, I remembered what you and Yui did a couple years ago, and…” She pulled a disposable camera out of her bag, ripping the package open and depositing the empty cardboard sleeve and silver anti-static bag in the little pink trash can in the corner. “I couldn’t let a little thing like a heart attack keep you from getting to take pictures on the first day of school. I know it’s important to ya.”
Hana laughed loudly, a wide smile crossing her lips. “Oh, I love you, Ranko.” She reached out with her right arm, her left one still a little hard to move with the IV and pulse oximeter connections, and Ranko handed her the little camera, having already wound it to prepare it for the first picture.
“You look adorable,” Hana said as she pointed the camera, snapping a photo and starting to wind it with her thumb. “Do you miss the uniform?”
Ranko giggled, smiling for the photo and framing her face with her hands. “Not. At. All. Fuck, that thing was so itchy! I still can’t believe you got me into that damn thing in the first place.”
Hana smiled softly. “Yeah, but aren’t you glad you did it now? Look at you, off to college.”
The redhead blushed, but couldn’t resist a grin of pride in herself. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re the mom. You’re supposed to be right; ya ain’t gotta gloat about it!” Just the thought of being able to assume that a parent had her best interests in mind and a general wisdom in their decision making was still such a foreign concept to Ranko, much though it was becoming less so after nearly three years spent as Hana Takahashi’s youngest daughter.
“I wouldn’t call it gloating,” Hana said as she snapped another picture. “I’m just so damn proud of you, is all. I always knew you could do this if you tried, even when you doubted it, and it does my heart good to see it happening for you. You deserve it.”
“Yeah, well…” Ranko blushed more deeply, knowing it would be captured on Hana’s camera. “I’m proud of me, too, silly as it feels to say so. But, speaking of doing your heart good, how are you feeling? The nurses say you’re doing great, and we can bring you home soon.”
Hana sighed, looking over the various wires and contraptions still connecting her to the medical equipment scattered along the back half of the room. “I’m doing. I can’t wait to get out of here, though. I’m going stir-crazy, and I am gonna kill somebody if they don’t bring me something decent to eat soon.”
Ranko nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom. The doctor made us promise not to bring anything in for you. They caught Mei trying to sneak in some chicken wings yesterday and read her the riot act. They really want you to change up your diet. Apparently thirty-five years of bar food six nights a week isn’t super good for you. Who knew?” She smiled brightly. “But, the night you come home, Mei and I are gonna work together, and we’re gonna make you anything you want. I promise.”
“Just you two?” Hana laughed. “Not gonna invite Akane to help?”
Ranko cackled loudly, shaking her head as her mother snapped another photo. “We’re trying to get you better, not kill you!”
The singer’s mother laughed along with her daughter, adjusting her weight slightly in the bed. She winced as she tried to sit up, and Ranko stepped closer to help her lift her body, careful not to snag any of the wires or rumple the thin white hospital gown her mother wore.
“Have you girls reopened the bar yet?”
Ranko shook her head. “Tonight’s our first night back. Yui and Sakura are freakin’ frantic, but I don’t know why; it’s not like we haven’t done it a million times before. Mom, I gotta tell ya. All those nights in huge stadiums are great, but I can’t fucking wait to be back on that little stage in there. It’s still home.”
Hana grinned. “I’m glad to hear it, baby. I gotta say, I was a little worried you were gonna outgrow us once you got out there on tour. You’ve gotta tell me all about it.”
The redhead reached down, taking her mother’s hand, and the laughter in her eyes gave way to a soft sincerity. “Mom, I am never gonna outgrow you, or my sisters. Never. If I keep growing my whole life, one day I might feel like I’m good enough to stand next to you. You and the girls… you’re my heroes, Mom. I said it in Once Upon a Rhyme, and I meant it. I love you so much. And you can’t fucking scare me like this again, you got me? That flight home, not knowing if you were gonna be here when I landed… I didn’t think I could hold my breath for ten hours, but I swear, I did.”
Ranko’s mother squeezed her hand tight in return, and Hana’s daughter smiled at the feeling of strength returning to her grasp. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m not done fighting for you girls yet.”
The songstress leaned down, kissing her mother softly on the forehead with her strawberry-glazed lips. “You better not. I waited too damned long to find you.”
“I love you too, Ran-chan,” Hana said with a smile as Ranko straightened back to a standing position. “How much time do you have before your class? I don’t want you being late on your first day.”
Ranko shrugged, reaching down to her waist and pulling a small pink object out of her pocket. She pressed the button on the glittery transparent pager, reading the time on the little monochrome LCD screen. “I’ve got about another ten minutes and then I gotta scoot.”
“Make it five,” Hana said, handing her daughter back the disposable camera. “I don’t want you to have to rush. You’ve been stressed out enough on my account lately.”
With a nod, Ranko rolled her eyes. She knew there was no point arguing with her mother. “Yes, ma’am.”
Fumbling under the blanket, Hana found the remote for the television and pressed the large red button to turn it off. “What class do you have first?”
“Today’s just English. Tomorrow I have humanities and public speaking,” Ranko said with a blush. “Can you believe that bullshit? They told me I have to take a public speaking class, because they want to make sure I don’t have stage fright. Can’t I just be like, bro, you do know I sang for almost two hundred thousand people in the last three weeks, right? And I did it in a fuckin’ sailor fuku, to boot.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Hana shrugged. “Look at it this way, baby. It’ll be an easy class for you.”
With a smirk, Ranko nodded. “Well, just wait ‘til I bring in three roadies, a pyrotechnics expert and a couple of backup dancers to help me give a speech on, I dunno, butterflies or some shit. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
Cackling, Hana leaned her head back on her mattress. “What other classes are you taking?”
Ranko shook her head, shouldering her backpack. “Just those three for this term, and a once-a-week intro to computers class. Akane and I talked about it, and we decided that between school, cheerleading, the bar and the tour, it was better to take it easy for the first term, especially since it’s not like getting my degree is holding me up from doing my career or anything. That was about the minimum I could take for the scholarship, so we’re gonna try to get some of the general education crap out of the way now so I can focus on the good stuff once the tour’s done. I didn’t even wanna do the computer thing this term, but Akane said I’m gonna need it sooner rather than later.”
Laughing, Hana rested her left hand on her chest. “Ranko Tendo, taking it easy and not pushing herself to the limit? Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter? Careful, you’re gonna give me another heart attack from the shock!”
“Don’t even joke about that shit, Mom!” Ranko shook her head. “That’s not fuckin’ funny.”
Hana nodded, reaching out to Ranko with her untethered arm. “C’mere, give me a hug, and then you gotta get out of here. And don’t try to push yourself to come back here after class, okay? Head to the bar and help your sisters.”
Ranko leaned close, giving her mother the tightest hug she dared given Hana’s still-healing broken ribs. “I will, Mom. I promise. Akane’ll be up here in about an hour for her shift, anyway. I love you. You rest up, okay?”
Hana rubbed her daughter’s back through her pink satin blouse, letting her go after holding her for nearly a full minute. “I will. I love you too, baby. Ranko, honey… I am so, so, so proud of you. I want you to have an amazing day, and enjoy it. You’ve earned it, little star.”
----------------------------------------
Man, the campus feels a lot bigger when you’re not just standing in the quad doing kata, Ranko thought as she adjusted the weight of her bag on her shoulders. The concept of all the classes not being in one building was foreign enough to her, let alone the lack of things like lockers. I gotta start leaving everything but the books for the day’s classes at home. Lugging all this shit around is almost as bad as when Pop made me carry all the camp gear.
“Hey, excuse me?” Ranko waved to a young man and his girlfriend as they passed on the sidewalk. “Do you know where Jubei Hall is?”
The woman lifted her arm from around her boyfriend’s back, pointing behind her with two fingers. “Maybe half a kilometer that way, on your left. Look for the abstract metal sculpture thing out front. You can’t miss it!”
If I didn’t already miss it, I wouldn’t be asking for freaking directions, Ranko thought with a sigh. “Thanks so much!” She offered a grateful smile and a wave before unclipping her pager from the waistband of her denim skirt and checking the time. Oof. I gotta hustle. She put a bit more speed in her step, jogging up the four concrete steps to a gray brick building with just under four minutes to go before the start of her class.
She quickly found the lecture hall listed on her schedule, and walked into a cavernous room that she might have confused for a small concert venue, complete with a stage and some three hundred tan stadium-style seats, each with a little black half-desk mounted to it on an aluminum bar. Ranko cringed slightly with the realization that the half-desks were all fastened to the right side of the seats, and she as a left-handed person would not be able to rest her arm on one to write. Well, that sucks, she thought. The seating was about three-quarters full, and Ranko slipped into the aisle seat in the third row from the back just as the instructor emerged from a door at the back of the stage.
The teacher wore a pair of blue slacks and a cream-colored blouse, and couldn’t have been more than about twenty-five years old. Akane had told Ranko about the idea of student instructors, and the woman standing on the stage at the front of the auditorium almost certainly fit the description. “Good morning,” she said loudly, without the benefit of a microphone. Fortunately, the acoustics in the room were excellent, and Ranko had no trouble making her out from the back of the room. “My name is Hisoka Kamiya, and I’ll be your instructor for this term. You should all have a copy of the syllabus, but if not, please see me after class and I’ll get you one.”
Ranko dug in her backpack for her yellow notebook and a black rollerball pen, as well as a yellow folder containing the three-page syllabus. At least I picked out my own supplies this term, and I’m not rocking band merch everywhere. I felt like such a tool with that last year. She did her best to set up her notebook on the half-desk, swiveling at the waist uncomfortably to try to apply her left hand to the paper.
“Alright,” the instructor said, turning on the projector. She pressed a button on a gray remote control, and a large screen began to descend from the ceiling on a motorized track.
“Let’s get started, shall we?”
----------------------------------------
“You okay? That looked miserable, having to sit sideways to write like that.”
Ranko looked up to the girl seated to her right as the class began packing up their belongings, shrugging a bit. “You get used to it. The world’s not really designed for left-handed people, I guess.”
Ranko’s classmate was probably twelve to eighteen months her junior. Her platinum blonde hair had a single blue streak running down the left side, and it was straight as an arrow all the way down to her shoulders. A second, thinner blue streak darted down the left side of her bangs, just above her eye. She wore a pair of cutoff denim shorts that didn’t even reach the edge of her chair under a black tee shirt depicting an anthropomorphic blue hedgehog wearing white gloves and red running shoes, and her steel-gray eyes were couched behind a pair of round glasses in translucent purple acrylic frames. “Maybe bring a clipboard? At least then you could set it on your lap,” the girl offered hopefully.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Ranko said with a smile. “Thanks! I’ll have to try and pick one up this weekend when I get a minute to find a store. Things are… a little crazy for me right now.”
The younger girl blushed, nodding as she brushed her hair away from her face and shouldered her drab green messenger bag. “Yeah… first day jitters are real for all of us, I’m sure.” There was a distance to her voice, as if she didn’t really know what to make of her companion.
Ranko nodded, declining to bring up the as-yet-unknown fallout of her early return from Australia. After weeks of being hounded for autographs everywhere she went, it was nice to have a few moments to just be a normal person again and not a pop starlet. Not wanting to come off as a downer, she chose not to mention her mother’s ongoing hospitalization, either.
“I’m Yumeko,” the younger girl said with a warm smile. “Yumeko Niwa. I guess I’ll be seeing you?”
Ranko nodded, smiling brightly. “Sure hope so! My name’s…”
Yumeko giggled, nodding and putting up her hand before Ranko could finish her sentence. “I know who you are. I think just about everybody does. You’re… kind of a legend, especially in this part of town.”
Blushing, Ranko looked down as she zipped up her bag. “Damn! And here I thought I was flying under the radar a little.”
“Fat chance of that,” Yumeko said with a bit of a shy smile. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
With a shrug, Ranko crinkled her nose. “It doesn’t bother me, as long as people aren’t like, hounding me to sign stuff every day on my way to class or anything. I’m happy to do it, but like, there’s a time and a place, ya know?” She smiled a bit. “I’m just trying to go to class, do my homework, all that shit.”
“A Regular Girl, huh?” Yumeko giggled as she referenced Ranko’s discography. “Didn’t really peg you as the type to mean that. I figured Not Yours, Don’t Touch was more your true form.”
Ranko blushed at the acknowledgement of her music. It was so rare to encounter someone who recognized her, and didn’t fawn all over her to the point of annoyance. It was refreshing. “I mean, I try to be pretty chill, so long as people aren’t grabbin’ at my ass or nothin’.” She started walking alongside her new acquaintance as the pair ascended the stairs to the doors at the back of the auditorium. “I only do the whole viper thing to the people who deserve it.”
“Seems reasonable enough,” Yumeko said with a smile as she pushed the door open, holding it for Ranko and her overstuffed pink backpack.
“Thanks,” Ranko acknowledged the younger girl with a nod and a smile as she slipped through the door out into the early afternoon sun of a beautiful May day. This is nice, getting out of class and going outside, and not into some jam-packed hall lined with metal lockers. Feels more… free.
Yumeko followed her after continuing to hold the door for a pair of young men who were walking just behind them, taking a few hurried steps to catch up to the young singer. “What’cha got going on now? Another class?”
Ranko shook her head, pulling her pager off of the waistband of her denim pencil skirt and checking the time. “Nah, just got the one today. I gotta get to work, though.”
“You… still have a job? Besides the whole, pop sensation thing?” Yumeko blinked, looking over Ranko with a puzzled expression.
The redhead nodded, smiling. “Yeah! I mean, I do a lot of singing there, too, but… My family owns a little bar not far from here. The Phoenix. I sing, wait tables sometimes, whatever I can do to help. You should come by! I go on at eight every night except Tuesday. When I’m not on the road, anyway.”
Nodding, Yumeko cracked another small smile. “I think I’d like that. I’ve always been curious to see you perform live.” The young Firebird blushed shyly, fidgeting with her purple and white painted fingernails as she walked. “You’re… not what I thought you’d be.”
Ranko frowned, lowering her eyes a little bit as she walked. “I’m sorry. How so?”
Yumeko blushed more deeply, eschewing her fingers in favor of hiding her face with her rail-straight blonde hair. “Oh, man, you’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
“I mean, I’m not gonna force ya or nothin’, but…” Ranko blushed as her sentence died partway through. However she’d disappointed the younger girl, she wanted to fix it - the last thing she wanted was to come off as unapproachable in her new school. She knew it would be a tall order given her celebrity, but Ranko badly wanted to cultivate a few friendships. She couldn’t fathom how she’d have made it through her first few months at Yusue High without Kumiko; in fact, she made a mental note to give her friend a call later in the week to find out how her first week in her manga art school had gone, and give her an update on her mother’s condition.
“I guess I…” Yumeko cringed, looking down in embarrassment. “... kinda thought you were gonna be a stuck-up bitch.”