One.
The world spun around her at lightning speed as Ranko’s form plummeted to the earth. There was a certain freedom in falling. Not knowing which way was up momentarily absolved her mind of worrying about keeping her footing. It made things feel more normalized, as if the daily chaos of her life was just expected and normal, and nothing at all to be concerned about. Whether it was the emotional thunderclap of Ken’s diagnosis and subsequent departure from the band, frantically trying to help Zoe ramp up to fill in for him on a semi-permanent basis on drums, her mother’s continued recovery, or her ongoing standoff with Yokai Records, it felt like everything in her world was upside-down most of the time lately anyway. No reason it shouldn’t be literally, physically inverted, too.
Two.
For most people, freefalling toward the earth head-first would be terrifying. Most people’s eyes would be forced open wide, frantically searching for purchase or the hope of solid ground, rather than serenely closed. Most people would barely be able to breathe at the thought of being at the mercy of gravity, rather than finding a quiet peace in the absence of so many other forces that would otherwise be pressing on them from every direction at once.
Ranko Tendo was not most people.
Three.
I’m gonna be okay. I am wanted. I have worth. I have people who care about me. People who have my back. People who won’t let me hit the ground, no matter how far, or how fast, I fall. There will always be someone there to catch me.
She snapped her body around, beginning to arrest the torque with which she was spiraling her torso.
And that’s four. Okay, Ranko. You’ve been spinning in place long enough. Time to level out and straighten up.
Ranko opened her eyes, bending at the waist until her sparkly silver sneakers almost touched her nose. She gripped her ankles tight, bracing for the sudden stop. She felt two pairs of hands on her back, cushioning her as she was cradled in a basket formed by the arms of two young women. Her backside was less than a meter from the floor when the two girls lifted with all the force they could bring to bear, immediately propelling her back into the sky.
The redhead tucked her knees tight under her chin, grabbing them with her hands as she rolled twice in the air.
It’s gonna be weird and I’m gonna be a little dizzy for a minute, but I’ll always land on my feet. That’s what a Phoenix does.
Ranko laid out from the tuck position, cushioning her landing with an outstretched ankle as her sneakers made contact with the rubber floor of the Minato University gymnasium.
“Yeah!” The ecstatic cheerleader kicked her leg high in the air, celebrating the first quadruple twist she had ever landed outside a competition. She was all smiles, her eyes sparkling more brightly than the twin streaks of silver glitter paint running parallel with her eyebrows on each of her cheeks. Forget a stupid plastic trophy - she had a far more important reason to bring her best effort to her performance that Friday mid-June afternoon.
“Introducing your defending champions, the Minaaaaaaaaato Myyyyyyyyyystiiiiiiics!” The public address announcer roared into the microphone from his little glass booth above the basketball hoop, which had been lifted to the rafters to get it out of the way.
“Lead onto the court by number three, team captain, Akaaaaaaaaaneeeeeee Teeeeeeeeeeeendoooooooooo!”
“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO! GO AKANE!” Ranko giggled as she leaped skyward, splitting her legs out to her sides and touching her toes mid-air. Quadruple twist or no, as her wife emerged from the locker room to the sound of Ranko’s cheers, the newest member of the Minato Mystics’ cheerleading squad thought maybe she really could fly.
“TEN-DO! TEN-DO! TEN-DO!” The crowd whooped and hollered for their captain, waving purple flags that had been handed out by the booster club. Ranko beamed as she caught the reflective silver foil pom-poms Shiori Nagata had tossed her, clapping them together in time with the capacity crowd’s chant of her family name. She was proud to join the crowd in it, strange though it felt to do so. Most of the time she heard that word chanted, it was for her, after all.
Clutching the shiny puffs in her hands as she was, she doubted Akane could see that she was rubbing the back of her left fist with her right hand. When the love of her life lingered for an extra half-second of smiles in her direction as she jogged past in her purple jersey and silver shorts, somehow, she suspected Akane knew, anyway.
The slender redhead shivered as the gymnasium’s air conditioner kicked on again with a whir that was drowned out by the raucous cheering raining down on her from every direction. From her experience in the crowd last year, watching from the sidelines as Akane and her squad had won Minato’s first volleyball championship in two decades, she knew that it was always cold in the indoor arena at the start of a match. Eventually, the body heat of an energetic crowd and the radiant energy of the fluorescent lighting would warm it up, and the chill lingering in her bones would pass.
Of course, when I was sitting in the stands, I was wearin’ a lot more clothes.
Ranko blushed slightly at the thought of just how exposed she was. Her Minato cheer uniform left little to the imagination, with her midriff bared between the short purple crop-top and the matching pleated microskirt. The shirt, as it could only generously be called, was adorned with a row of sparkly silver stars that trailed across the bust and down the left side of her ribcage. The star pattern broke as the garment gave way to skin, resuming at the same spot on her hip at the waistband of her skirt and cascading down the purple outer pleats of her skirt until it reached the hem. The word Mystics was emblazoned both in kanji and in English across her chest in glittery silver thread, though, in Ranko’s eyes, it might as well have read Akane across her breasts.
Maybe I could have Izzi make me one that does, she thought, her cheeks aflame. I’m sure Akane wouldn’t hate it. She waved her pom-poms high above her head, whooping loudly for Haruki Oshima as the slender girl with the red pixie cut jogged onto the court behind Akane wearing jersey number six. Wish I’da thought about asking before tonight, come to think of it.
----------------------------------------
“Everybody’s freeeeeeeeee… to feel good!”
Ranko rocked her hips just behind Suzume, grinning up at the crowd as she went through the simplistic choreography steps. It’s so weird not to be in the lead. And to not be wearing a mic.
The redhead skipped in a circle between Suzume and Kotone, rocking her head side to side with every move. She giggled at the way the silver satin ribbon in her ponytail tickled her bare shoulders as she danced with the upbeat tune.
Honestly, though? It’s okay. For now, at least. I’m the new kid here, and I don’t need to go all prima donna girl right off the bat. That’s what turned Kotone off of me at Yusue, and she’ll be the first to freak out if I do it again here. They don’t owe me anything, and they gave me a scholarship, so they clearly know what they have when and if they decide they want it. I don’t need to be top billing all the time.
The effervescent redhead beamed up at the crowd as Shiori took her by the hips and launched her skyward into a double twist. Superstar? Pshaw. Not here, and I don’t think I wanna be. I’m just one of the girls, cheering for our team. I’m totally not just rooting for the team captain, who is totally just my sister, and who totally isn’t gonna take me out of this outfit and fuck me stupid the nanosecond she gets a chance to get me alone.
But she’s gonna have to wait. I’ve got plans for her, first.
The eurobeat rhythm thumped almost deafeningly behind her as she moved. The sound system is so much louder down here than it is in the stands, she thought as she backed up against Asami, the pair both flashing scintillating smiles at the home crowd as they danced back-to-back with their shoulders touching.
“Now is the moment to reach out to someone; it’s all up to you! When everyone’s sharing their hope, then love will win through!”
----------------------------------------
“That dude in the second row, the one in the white polo… fuck, Ran-chan, I thought he was gonna faint watching your dance solo.”
Ranko blushed a bit, brushing a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her eye as she walked with Shiori. “Yeah?” She smirked mischievously up at her friend. “I hadn't noticed.”
The blonde continued giggling, shaking her head. “Wait a minute, you saw… were you shaking your ass harder in his direction on purpose, to torment the poor bastard?”
“Oh, come on, Shi’ri, would I do that?” Ranko shot her another devious sneer. “After all, I’m a good girl, prim and proper innocence…”
While she’d never give a boy a chance to act on it, now that she felt fairly safe from their advances most days, Ranko didn’t necessarily hate the attention. Her attractiveness had been no small part of her rise to stardom, and she was beginning to find a comfort level with it. They’re gonna look. As long as they don’t touch, there’s no harm in acknowledging that, especially if it sells records. She’d never tell Akane, though, for fear every boy in the arena would be pummeled to death just for having a set of eyes.
Beyond that, though, as much would have mortified any remaining vestige of Ranma Saotome’s psyche in her mind, she’d been fantasizing for the better part of a year about cheering for Akane at one of her games, and then having the star athlete bring her home to have her way with her own personal cheerleader. She felt sexy as hell, and was having a hard time convincing herself to pretend otherwise.
“Yes. Yes you would, you sly little shit.” Shiori laughed merrily alongside her friend. “I’m gonna go get changed before the thing. You comin’?”
Ranko blushed deep crimson, shaking her head with a devious grin. “Nah, I’m just gonna wear this tonight.”
“But… oooh, that’s just cruel,” Ranko’s friend said with a smirk. “I fucking love it. I’ll probably be about a half hour behind you. That cool?”
The redhead nodded. “Sure! Whenever you get there’s cool! See ya, Shi’ri!” She waved excitedly, turning as Shiori headed for the locker room at the sound of someone approaching.
“Hey, Ranko! Great job today, new kid!” Suzume gave her a wink and a thumbs-up. Ranko responded by gesturing outward with her hands as if sprinkling seasoning over a roasting chicken in the Pixie Dust gesture Shiori had invented. She ended the gesture by pointing up at the ceiling of the gymnasium with both of her index fingers as Suzume continued speaking.
“So, me and a couple of the girls are gonna head over to Ishiro’s Cafe for some milkshakes. We do it a lot, to go hang and unwind after a show. You wanna come?”
Ranko grinned at being invited to hang out with the girls. “I’d love to, Suzie. You have no idea. Thanks so much for inviting me, but I’m gonna have to take a rain check…” She blushed, looking down at her hands and biting her lower lip gently. “I’ve got a date tonight.”
Suzume nodded with a broad smile. “Well, then you have a great time and don’t let me hold you up. We’ll catch you next time.”
“It’s a plan!” Ranko waved with a thousand-watt smile as Suzume made after Shiori to the cheerleaders’ locker room. Ranko, for her part, wandered out into the hallway just outside the main athletic locker room, leaning on the cold cinder block wall. It caused the whole of her body to shiver, and she closed her eyes, resting her head on the white-painted concrete with a blissful grin.
“Hey there, hot stuff. Going my way?”
Ranko turned her head to the sound of her lover’s voice, nodding emphatically. Her ponytail bobbed on her shoulder, and she squirmed with the way it tickled her. “I’m going wherever you are, Akane. Always.”
Akane smiled softly. She’d changed out of her volleyball uniform, and wore a pair of green denim jeans and an ivory turtleneck sweater. There seemed to be something off in her eyes, as if there was something bothering her that she didn’t want to talk about.
I promise, Akane, I didn’t forget, Ranko thought with the smallest of frowns as she spied the disquiet in her wife’s eyes. You’ll see.
“Well, all-star, you gonna walk this cute little cheerleader home, or what?” Ranko giggled, leaning into her lover with a happy sigh.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Akane blushed, looking around to see if anyone was in earshot. “You don’t gotta ask me twice, princess.” Ranko linked arms with her, resting her fingers on Akane’s wrist as the pair headed for the leftmost set of glass double doors that led out to the street.
Not sure if walking arm-in-arm like this is an acceptable sister thing, or if it's risky to do in public. Tonight? Ask me if I fuckin’ care, Ranko mused with a fawning smile at her lover.
“You were great tonight,” Akane said, patting her wife on the hand and fidgeting slightly with her wedding ring. “I was so proud of you.”
The redhead's face steamed, looking down at their joined arms as they walked. “You… you were watchin’?”
Akane nodded, a soft smile on her lips. “How could I not? I mean, just look at you! Coach Anada had to repeat the play like three times in our time outs ‘cause I kept losing focus!”
Ranko simpered adorably, biting her lower lip. I'm gonna chew this damn thing off tonight at this rate. “Are you trying to say I'm distractingly cute? Doesn't seem like a very proper thing to think about your little sister. You're such a dirty pervert, Akane Tendo…”
‘Yeah?” Akane yanked Ranko hard by the arm, pulling her into a darkened, narrow walkway between two buildings. “Then you're gonna hate this…” She slammed Ranko’s back against the rough brick wall, cradling the back of her head before it could contact the side of the building. She ignored Ranko’s quiet yelp as the porous brick surface scratched at her bare back, pinning both of her wrists to the wall. Akane threw herself forward, forcefully kissing the slender cheerleader.
Ranko whimpered needfully into the kiss, making no effort to fight Akane’s grasp. “No, no, it's okay,” she said after taking a moment to regain control of her breathing. “I can be convinced.”
Akane snickered wolfishly at the restrained redhead, locking her elbows to keep her lover’s wrists pinned to the bricks. “You know, little girl, you should be more careful walking in dark alleys dressed like that. Anyone could just sneak up and take advantage of you.”
Ranko blushed neon red, averting her eyes downward between her forearms as she bit her lip yet again. “P… please?” Her voice raised an octave, almost hopefully.
Akane laughed, releasing the smaller girl’s arms. “Maybe when we get home.” She flashed an impish grin at the love of her life. “If you're a good girl, that is.”
You have no idea, Akane. Ranko whined, wishing for the thousandth time that the pair didn't already have plans for the evening. “Hey, can we swing by the bar real quick on the way? I left my school bag there and I gotta get my homework for tomorrow.”
Akane rolled her eyes. “Fine, but I don't wanna get stuck there for two hours talking to your sisters, and absolutely no going on stage. I have plans for you tonight, missy.”
“Promises, promises,” Ranko purred as she turned down the street toward the bar she suspected a part of her would always call home.
Akane blinked in concern as they approached the door of the establishment. “The place seems awfully quiet for a Friday night.”
“Well, of course it is, silly! You're monopolizing their star power.” Ranko dragged her finger down Akane's nose, swishing back to face the door hard enough for her cheer skirt to flare around her waist and brush against Akane’s jeans. She stood outside the door, making no move to reach for its brass handle.
Akane blushed a bit, basking in every moment of Ranko's flirtatious attitude. “Aren't you gonna go in?”
The cheerleader scoffed and put her fists on her hips, flashing Akane the mockingly playful glare of a disappointed, jilted girlfriend. “Honestly! Didn't your father teach you anything? You're supposed to open doors for a lady, ya big dummy!”
“You're right! My mistake, Miss Tendo.” Akane reached for the door handle, starting to pull it open.
“SURPRISE!”
Akane rocked back on her heels, her eyes wide. “What the…?!”
The redhead whirled to face her wife in the doorway, popping her heel up behind herself as she pulled Akane into a gentle kiss.
“You didn't really think I went and forgot your birthday, didja? Now, go on, get in there. Your public awaits.” Ranko giggled, swatting Akane playfully on the butt through her skinny jeans.
----------------------------------------
“Woman, if you don’t put that fucking tray down…”
Hana rolled her eyes, turning in the narrow hallway connecting the kitchen to the bar area. “Mei, honey, it’s been over a month. I can manage carrying a couple of friggin’ baskets of fries, honest.”
Mei snatched the tray from over her mother’s shoulder with her left hand, wagging her finger admonishingly at her nose with her right. “The doctor said no work until next month. I was sitting right there when he said it, ya stubborn old mule! Now, go on, get outta my kitchen! Shoo!”
“It’s not like I’m in here cooking, sweetheart. You girls have been carrying the load for long enough; I’ve gotta do something! I can’t just sit around and let you all wait on me. It’s not my style.” Hana smiled softly. They really are all such good kids.
The blue-haired girl rolled her eyes with a little shake of her head. “You can, and you will. There’s seven of us, not to mention Seiichi, and there’s not a single one of us who wouldn’t rather run twice as hard if it means you rest and heal up strong.” She took a few steps toward the bar, resting her free hand on the blue saloon door. “I swear, Mama, if you don’t get out here and put your ass in a chair, I’m getting you one of those shock collars that goes off if you try to walk past this door.”
“Alright, alright! You win, I’m coming.”
Hana laughed as Mei started to push through the door, but her daughter froze halfway through the door at the sound of steel scraping aluminum.
“I heard that. Put. The mother fucking pizza. Down, Mom.”
----------------------------------------
“So, that’s your new cheer uniform?” Jacob looked the redhead over in her purple-and-silver glittery outfit, a hungrier look in his eyes than Ranko was used to seeing from her green-haired friend.
Ranko didn’t seem to notice it, though, more preoccupied with sipping at the Regular Girl cocktail in her hand. She nodded, a proud smile on her lips. “Yep! Official Pixie!”
“Man, that’s a bummer,” Jake said with a chortle. “Any idea when they’re gonna let you have the rest of it?”
The redhead lowered her eyes a bit, trying to hide her blush behind a confident smirk. “Look, Trimble. Ain’t my fault your girl… partn… Zoe wears three layers head to toe everywhere they go.” She shrugged, cocking her head to the side cutely. “Poor, poor boy, never getting to look at anything this hot.” She folded her hands sincerely, resting them on her chest with a piteous expression in her eyes as if she were beholding a hungry puppy. “I feel for you, friend. Truly.”
Zoe scoffed, rolling their eyes. “I’m plenty hot, mate. I jus’ don’t need to advertise it. Jakey gets plenty, don’t you worry none.”
Ranko giggled. “I’m just playin’ anyway, Zo.”
“Uh, Crash? Babe?” Ukyo nudged her boyfriend gently in the ribs with her elbow through his black Slayer tee shirt. “Are you okay, sugar? Do you need a bib or anything?”
“Whuuh? I wasn’t lookin’ at nothin’! Honest!” Crash waved his hands frantically in front of his face, snapping his head back to look away from his best friend hard enough to nearly snap his neck. He turned to face the young chef he’d been dating for the better part of a year, a nervously sheepish grin crossing his face.
Ukyo giggled, lowering her voice as she leaned in close to him and draped her arm around his lower back. “Don’t lie to me, Crash. It’ll get you in even more trouble, and besides, you kinda suck at it. Of course you were looking! For fuck’s sake, dude, I was looking!”
“I was not,” Crash pleaded.
With a laugh, Ukyo turned to the two women behind her. “Judges?”
The giggling blonde looked down to her girlfriend, and then both nodded in Ukyo’s direction. “Oh, yeah. He was definitely ogling. We saw the whole thing,” Emi said with a smirk.
“Well, Ems did, anyway,” Hitomi said with a bit of an impish grin, holding up the glass high-heeled shoe she was drinking from. “I was busy gettin’ drunk and starin’ at Ranko’s ass.” She shrugged, crinkling her nose a bit. “It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.”
----------------------------------------
“Did we have to invite him?” Ranko glowered at the tall man in the green button-down shirt talking with her wife, stabbing at the ice cream in her margarita glass with her spoon as if it were a dagger.
Yui sighed, reaching over the bar counter to steal one of Ranko’s puffs of fried potato and popping it into her mouth. “It’s her party and he’s her friend, Ran-chan. Sho’s not gonna try anything, especially not with all of us here.”
Ranko nodded, staring plaintively into her sparkly cocktail glass. “Are you sure? ‘Cause, I mean, I bet it would be hilarious watching some guy get his balls get ripped off by a cheerleader.”
“As far as I’ve seen, he hasn’t made any advances when he’s been by, Ran-chan. He’s been respectful enough. They’re just friends, just like you and Crash.” Yui reached for another of her sister’s tater tots, but Ranko pushed the remainder of the basket across the counter to her with a sigh. Referencing her friendship with Crash was not the reassurance Yui thought it was.
“If you’re still feeling this way, you’ve gotta talk to her about it,” Yui said, gesturing to Ranko’s face with open fingers with her mouth still full of potato. “This pout from the shadows vibe you’re throwing has Sneak written all over it.”
The songstress sighed, pulling her spoon out of her mouth upside-down. “I tried, in Hawai’i, and everything went to shit between us. We were gonna talk about it when I got home, but Mom got sick, and then neither of us wanted to rock the boat, I guess. Things are good, as long as I don’t talk about it.”
Yui frowned, leaning on the countertop. “Ranko, honey, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re sitting here at a party you threw for your person, and you’re busy cryin’ in your booze with your big sister. I don’t know what that is, but I don’t know if I’d classify it as good.”
Ranko slid off the stool, her eyes going wide. “Owwww!” She reached behind herself, wincing a bit as her feet hit the floor.
“You okay? What happened?” Yui straightened up on her feet to peer over the countertop.
The redhead blushed, looking down a little in humiliation and rubbing her backside as she glared at the brown vinyl of her stool. “My ass got stuck to the fucking seat.”
The blonde cackled, smirking down at her sister. “Yeah, sorry about that. The safety directions for the bar stools made it clear you’re supposed to be wearing some clothes when you sit in ‘em.”
“We should put up a warning sign. It’s a fuckin’ hazard.” Ranko managed a smile at her sister. “Alright, that’s enough of this shit.”
“Ranko? What are you…” Yui sighed in exasperation as her youngest sister stalked over to her wife and Sho. “Please be good,” the bartender mumbled under her breath.
Ranko wrapped her arms around Akane’s waist. “Hiya!” She smiled brightly up at Akane, her head pressed to her chest just below Akane’s right armpit. Sheltered under Akane’s arm, she shot a glare of warning up at Sho. Not yours. Don’t touch.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Akane said, squeezing her tight. “Sho was just telling me about this new Western movie coming out, where a singer in a bar has to pretend to be one of those Catholic shrine maidens to hide from the mafia. It’s supposed to be really funny.”
Ranko nodded. “We’ll go see it together, you and me, whenever you want. It’ll be a fun date.” Feels a little close to home for my tastes, but, no chance I’m letting him invite her. While she spoke to Akane, her eyes never broke contact with Sho’s.
Sho chuckled nervously down at the possessive cheerleader, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. “Well, I think I’ve monopolized the birthday girl long enough. I think I’ll… go get another drink.” He spun on his heel, walking back in the direction of the bar.
That’s right, bitch. You’d better run. Ranko squeezed her wife even tighter around the waist, smiling as she reveled in her victory. This is mine.
“I hope you had a good time, Akane.” Ranko rested her head back on her wife’s chest, nuzzling against her with her cheek. “We got you good.”
Akane chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, you sure did, babe. Never saw this coming, not even when you said you needed to go by the bar.”
The redhead giggled a bit absently, and Akane suggested the three Hypnoteasers Yui had made her probably had a lot to do with it. “Well, I know I couldn’t one-up last year, but Disney already had somebody to play that Belle chick.”
“Ranko Tendo, you are all the princess I need. Get your cute little butt over here and kiss me.” Akane reached behind the cheerleader’s back.
Ranko licked her lips, which scintillated in the bar’s lighting, caked as they were with sugar glitter from her drinks. “Yes, ma’am. Anything for the birthday girl.” She leaned closer, purring softly as Akane’s lips made contact with her own.
“So… you about ready to get out of here?” Ranko simpered pleadingly up at her beloved. “I still have to give you your birthday present.” She played with the shimmery silver ribbon in her hair, leaning into Akane’s chest.
“I even put a bow on it for you.”