“Soooo,” Ranko said, leaning forward on her bar stool excitedly. “When’s the wedding? I’m calling dibs on planning your bachelorette party. I owe you two lovebirds for as much as you fucked with me and Akane.” And the fact that I couldn't walk right for a week after the honeymoon, to boot.
“About that…” Yui blushed, looking up at Sakura with a soft smile from the employee side of the bar. “We’ve… decided not to do a wedding.”
Ranko rocked back. “What?! But, you’re engaged! You’ve got a ring and everything! Don’t tell me she got cold feet again! Sakura, do you and I need to…” She clenched her left hand into a fist.
Sakura giggled, squeezing Yui around the shoulders. “No, no, Ranko, nothing like that. Just… how to say it? We’re… together enough.”
“Yeah. It’s like, when Akane asked you, we knew there wasn’t anything official to the wedding, it was just about the show. And you guys wanted that. Well, Akane did, anyway, and let’s be honest: you wanted whatever Akane did. Besides, you should just admit it - you’re way too much of an attention whore not to have gotten a chance to be a bride. But, for me and Sake…” Yui shrugged. “We just decided we don’t need it. It won’t be legal anyway, and all the hoopla’s just… not us.”
Ranko sipped at her soda. “So, Sakura’s just, your wife now? That’s it?!” No fair! I didn’t get a chance to get out of doing the big foofy dress and everything…
“We’re together,” Sakura said, squeezing Yui around her chest from behind. “Forever. We don’t necessarily care what people call it. She’s mine, and I’m hers, and that’s just all that matters to us.”
“Well,” Ranko said, gingerly dismounting her stool with a slight wince. Owwww. Stop that, stupid uterus. Nobody asked for your opinion. “That’s just bullshit. I don’t get to tease you or nothin’?!” The bright smile on her face helped to blunt her complaint. As she spoke, she walked around the counter, slipping behind it and wrapping her arms tight around Sakura’s waist. “Well… I guess, welcome to the family, big sister. Love ya.”
Sakura giggled brightly as Yui looked on, all smiles. “Love you too, little sister.” She squeezed Ranko back just as tightly. “Ya know, I always wanted a sister.”
Ranko let out a loud laugh, shaking her head in some combination of irony and pity. “Well, now you’ve got more of them than you know what to do with, so, like, have fun sorting that shit out.”
“She’ll manage,” Yui said with a smirk. “Even if some of you are a right pain in the ass. Speaking of which, what the hell are you even doing here this early? Aren’t you supposed to be all, like, college girl and shit?”
The redhead shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Nabiki said I had to be here, so I’m here. I don’t make the rules. I show up when I’m told. I sing when people say sing.”
Yui laughed. “Well, if you’re not careful, I’ll put an apron on you and put you to work, diva.”
Ranko frowned. “Yui, I wish I could make you guys understand that I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to help. I’m not too good to cut up a few oranges or wash some dishes. No stupid plaque on the wall is gonna change the fact that we’re a family and we work together.”
“Just checking,” Sakura asked, gesturing to the orange-and-gold rectangle on the wall over her new little sister’s shoulder behind the service bar. “The stupid plaque we’re referring to is the Japan Record Award, right?” As she spoke, she made the motion of little quotation marks in the air with her fingers.
The young starlet shrugged, scooping up a paring knife from the bar countertop as she slowly remounted her stool. “I mean, it’s cool that we won a couple of ‘em, but… I’ll always be the girl that learned how to live by waiting tables in this place. That’s nothin’ to be ashamed of. Now, gimme that bin of lemons.” She twirled the knife in her fingers as she spoke.
Yui tossed the aluminum tray up onto the counter with a loud clatter, and Ranko snatched up one of the fruits, setting into it with the knife in her hand. “Well, if you two are officially official, Yui, you’d better hurry up and get that girl a ring.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Ran-chan,” Yui said, rolling her eyes with a soft smile as she glanced down at the golden diamond-and-ruby ring on her own left hand, extending her fingers to admire it. “She’s already been shopping. Don’t be surprised if I’m broke as hell for the next six months or so.”
“I’m worth it,” Sakura purred, leaning over her lover’s back as the blonde cleaned one of the beer taps.
Yui blushed deeply, nodding her head. “Nobody said you weren’t, babe. Just, you might have to be worth it while we’re living on instant ramen for a minute, is all.”
Ranko scoffed. “Oh, come on, Yui. You’re my big sister. You hooked us up when I messed up my leg in January. You know I won’t let you starve.”
“Yeah,” the blonde said with a mournful chuckle. “But you’re gonna be island-hopping in a little over a month, and that just leaves us with Akane’s cooking.”
The young songstress cringed as she tossed another bifurcated lemon into the tray. “Yeowch. Yeah, fair point. You’re pretty fucked, hon. Sorry. I’ll say something nice at the funeral, promise.”
“Morning, ladies,” Nabiki said as she pushed through the front door, smirking at Ranko.
It never failed to make the redhead blush that Nabiki went out of her way to use the most feminine words possible to refer to her at every opportunity. Akane did it too, but while her use of effeminate terms felt like a constant reminder that she embraced Ranko’s reconfigured identity, something about the way Nabiki did it always came off like she was teasing. There was no malice in it. Ranko was certain of it. It was clearly intended more as a bit of playful sisterly mocking. But, Ranko didn't always enjoy the way it made her squirm, as if Nabiki were constantly taunting her with a secret she could decide to reveal at any moment if the mood struck her.
“Hey, sis,” Ranko said with a wave, the paring knife still in her hand. She willed away her momentary ire, putting on a smile. I know Nabiki loves me, and she's just trying to be a good sister the best way she knows how. It’s not her fault. No matter how sincerely a shark smiles, it can't help but let you see its teeth.
“Get yourself cleaned up, Ran-chan. She's gonna be here in a few minutes.” Nabiki tossed her green clutch on the bar counter with a sigh. “Ugh. The train sucked today.”
Ranko nodded, jamming the knife deep into a lemon to sheathe the blade and ensure no one hurt themselves on it. “Who’s coming? You never told me.”
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“Oh? Didn’t I?” The lithe brunette nodded, taking off her green blazer and hanging it over the back of a bar stool near her purse with a devious sneer. “There's a reason for that. If I had, you wouldn't have shown up.”
“Fantastic. My confidence is overflowing,” the redhead mused darkly with a roll of her eyes as she dismounted her stool again. She slipped behind the bar, turning the faucet on its coldest setting. Nabiki winced a bit as she watched her sister shiver when her hands entered the cold water. The water heater was all the way on the other end of the bar, and so the temperature of the water at the service bar’s sink was hit-or-miss. Keeping it as cold as possible was the only way for Ranko to ensure discomfort did not become agony when the hot water suddenly made it all the way through the pipes and began to flow from the faucet.
As Ranko dried her hands with a blue bar towel, a girl probably a year her junior burst into the room, almost falling forward on her face as the double doors out to the street swung inward. She was a few centimeters shorter than Ranko herself, her blonde ponytail tied back in a yellow elastic. A trio of white plastic barrettes in the shape of small bows formed a line down the left side of her scalp. She wore a gray houndstooth skirtall over an ivory turtleneck sweater and black knee-high boots.
“Omigods! It’s really you! I thought they were pranking me.” The girl was practically vibrating with energy as she approached the songstress. On the way, she deposited the large, cube-shaped black nylon bag hanging from her shoulder on the top of table eleven.
“Uh, sorry?” Ranko blinked, tossing her towel aside. She looks familiar, but I can’t place her face…
Nabiki smirked, walking around Ranko to join the blonde. “Ran-chan, this is Natsuko Ogawa. She’s twenty years old, and she’s a sophomore at Yokohama College, majoring in public relations. And, as of this morning…” She flashed a satisfied smirk in Ranko’s direction, clearly enjoying the way she knew her little sister would blanch as she finished her sentence.
“... the president of the official Ranko and the Dapper Dragons fan club.”
Ranko blinked as the blonde bowed low to her. “Um, what?! We don’t have an official… um, one of… those!” She scratched her head with a nervous chuckle, knocking the purple headband with the little polka-dotted bow on it askew in her hair. What the hell are you playing at, Nabiki? She returned Natsuko’s bow, a skeptical expression in her eyes.
“You do now,” Nabiki said with a chuckle. “It’s important for every major band to have one, and well, last I checked, you’re becoming a major band.”
Natsuko beamed at the redhead. “Oh, gods, Ranko, this is gonna be so great! We’re gonna tell stories, and talk about your tour, and hang out, and take pictures and stuff… we’re gonna, like, be besties!” She let out a sound that sounded somewhere between a squeal of excitement and the screech of a starving fruit bat as she bounced on her toes.
Ranko glanced back over to the bar. She said nothing, but her eyes could not have more clearly expressed a cry for help if the kanji had appeared in her pupils. Yui gave her nothing but a shrug and a smirk before returning to flushing the soda tap behind the bar out with vinegar.
“Natsuko’s going to be writing a monthly newsletter for the fans,” Nabiki explained. “For each edition, she’ll do an interview with you, or one of the guys in the band. She’ll take a bunch of pictures, stuff like that. You’ll see her at a lot of your shows from now on, and we’re flying her to Manila so she can cover the two shows there when you go back out. The idea is that we want to give your fans a sort of backstage pass to the band, and let them feel like they’re part of it - especially the ones who can’t get here to the bar to interact with you whenever they want.”
Sure, because there’s totally nothing behind the curtain I don’t want to announce to the whole world, Ranko thought with a nervous glance at her wedding ring.
Nabiki turned to the blonde, motioning to her right with her neck. “Natsuko, why don’t you go get your camera set up? C’mere, Ran-chan. We’ve gotta fix your hair.”
The exhilarated girl darted back to retrieve her bag with another ear-splitting squeal, and Nabiki took Ranko by the wrist, dragging her a few meters away and beginning to adjust her headband for her.
“Just checking, Nabiki. You know I hate you with the fury of a thousand suns, right?”
Ranko’s elder sister and manager nodded, her voice rising in pitch in a mocking tone. “Uh-huh! Just don’t forget to smile pretty while you do it, cuuuutie pie.”
The redhead sighed in resignation, glancing back at the tripod being assembled behind her. “You couldn’t have at least warned me there was gonna be pictures so I could’ve picked a different outfit and maybe put a little more effort into my makeup?”
Nabiki shook her head. “Naaah. The whole idea is that it’s supposed to be candid. She’s the avatar for every one of your fans who wishes they could just… hang out with you, and see you when the stage lights go down and you’re just being the real you. You should start thinking of her like she’s part of the band.”
“So… you’re never gonna tell me when she’s gonna show up waving a camera in my face?” Ranko lowered her head. “Why would you do this to me?”
“Two reasons.” Nabiki sneered, dropping a little wink at her sister. “First, I wasn’t kidding. You do need a fan club. Yokai gets letters every month from people asking how to sign up for it.”
Ranko blushed brightly. Really?! Nobody ever told me. “... And the second reason?”
Nabiki giggled, gesturing to her sister’s cheeks with her hand. “The look on your face is fucking priceless.”
“For you?” Ranko glared sheepishly at her sister, smoothing the purple crushed velvet dress she wore and willing it to somehow transform into something a little less casual. “I thought everything had a price.”
“I’m all set!” The effervescent blonde squeaked again, and Ranko prayed Natsuko didn’t see her roll her eyes hard enough to offset the rotation of the planet.
“Hey, Nabiki, would you mind taking a picture with Ranko and me?” Natsuko motioned to the black anodized aluminum tripod, on which her Nikon camera sat poised like a sniper rifle aimed at Ranko’s face. “It’s the green button there on top.”
Nabiki smirked, stepping behind the camera and winking at Ranko. “Oh, I got it. I’ve always been pretty handy with a camera.”
Die in a fire, Nabiki, Ranko thought as Natsuko draped her arm behind the small of her back, her radiant stage smile masking her true emotions as the first flash of the camera blared in her eyes.
“So, what now? We done?” Ranko’s hopeful expression was dashed as soon as Natsuko sat down at table eleven, moving her camera bag to the floor. “Right. Interview.” Ranko chuckled nervously, slipping into the chair opposite Natsuko. Fuck my life.
Natsuko reached down into her camera bag, extracting a small black spiral notebook with pink and white writing emblazoned across its cover and pulling her pink ballpoint pen out from where it had been jammed through the wire loops of the binding.
She’s rocking my merch. Because of fucking course she is. Ranko tried to contain her sigh as Natsuko uncapped her pen and got situated. “So, what do we talk about first? I’ve… never done this before, sorry.”
“Now that you girls are all cozy, I’m going to dip out. Busy, busy!” Nabiki giggled, scooping her blazer from the bar stool where she’d left it. “Have fun, now!”
Ranko smiled brightly, waving to her sister. “Take care, Nabiki!” I don’t know what happened, Akane. I swear, I was just standing there, minding my own business, and the ice machine fell over on her head. There was nothing I could do. At least it was quick and she didn’t suffer. We’ll all miss her very much.
“I thought we’d talk about the first part of the tour,” Natsuko said excitedly. “I mean, you guys did a couple of countries, dropped three songs we haven’t heard on your albums yet, had to do two shows with an emergency drummer, and then had to cancel a concert! Talk about a crazy freakin’ month! We’ve gotta know everything!”
Ranko winced, lowering her head into her hands. “Telling you all that would take all day.”
“Uh-huh!” Natsuko giggled, turning to an empty page in her notebook. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got all the time in the world.”