“No thank you!” Ranko sighed heavily, rolling over in bed and covering her head with her pillow. Housekeeping is so insistent here, she grumbled mentally. Can't you let a girl sleep? It's… She glanced at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand with a low groan. It’s eight o’clock in the freakin’ morning!
The door rattled with another series of loud bangs.
Oh, alright. I'll get up, Ranko thought as she threw off the white down comforter with a growl. And when I do, whoever is on the other side of that door is gonna die.
Ranko threw on a pastel blue robe over her pink nightdress, slamming the brass hotel lock open and turning the deadbolt. She ripped the heavy door open almost hard enough to tear it off its hinges. “WHAT do you wa…”
She blinked as a brown paper cup full of iced coffee was thrust into her hand, and a pair of women burst into her room. “Shut up and drink that,” Emi said with a smirk as Hitomi drew open the curtains to let in the sunlight and the balcony view of Manila from the fifth-floor hotel room. Hitomi next stalked over to the north wall, throwing open the bifold doors of Ranko’s hotel room closet.
Ranko rubbed her eyes, a quiet whine escaping her lips. “You guys, what the hell do you want? It's early!” After a five-hour flight from Tokyo the day before, Ranko and her band mates had traveled via taxicab immediately from the airport to the Araneta Coliseum. Their plane had landed at 5:16 in the afternoon and they were due onstage at eight to perform a show, the first of two in Manila. After the show, the post-show meet-and-greet, getting out of her costume, and checking into the hotel, she hadn't gotten to bed until well past two in the morning. But they were up all night, too.
“How the heck are you girls so… alive?” Ranko sipped her coffee as Hitomi pulled her favorite white lace dress out of the closet, spreading it out on the bed next to her friend and beginning to scour the dresser drawers for underwear. “And, why?”
“Divisoria.” Emi said the word with a certain reverence, as if it were some magic spell.
“Divi-what, now? Is that the name of whatever drugs you girls are on that are makin’ you think you can drag me out of bed this early? ‘Cause if so, I need some, before I pummel both of your scrawny little asses.” Ranko wiped her eyes again, stretching her arms skyward with a wide yawn as a pastel blue bra and matching panties were tossed atop her dress beside her.
Emi reached into her back pocket and handed the redhead a trifold brochure from the tourism information stand in the hotel lobby. “Divisoria. It's this huge shopping district. The prices are supposed to be incredible, and there's literally thousands of vendors, and there's food, and… would you just freakin’ get dressed already?!”
Ranko shook her head. “Look, girls, I appreciate that you're trying to inv… yurk!” Hitomi took her by the wrists, yanking the half-awake redhead off the edge of the queen-sized bed to her feet.
“Oh, no you don't,” Hitomi admonished. “You're not getting into that, oh, woe is me, Akane stayed back in Japan funk again. No, ma’am. You were no fun at all in Australia and we are not letting you do that shit this time. So, we’re instituting a mandatory girls’ day. But the day is wasting, and if you don't get your cute little backside in that dress, and I do mean right now, you're gonna see what it feels like to be stuffed into it kicking and screaming.”
Um, have you girls even met Izzi, Ranko thought with a blush as she cast her terry cloth robe to the mattress. Maybe if I told them I wasn't always a girl, they'd let me skip the girls’ day and go back to bed. “If this is a girls’ day, where the heck is Zoe?”
“First,” Emi corrected as she dug through Ranko’s bag of hair supplies, “Zoe's not a girl.”
“That, and they chucked a steel-toed boot at me when we tried to invite them,” Hitomi added with a giggle.
Ranko blinked, laughing a bit as the caffeine from the coffee accelerated the process of rebooting her neurons from sleep. “Wait… that was an option?!”
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“Whoooooa!”
Ranko panned the chaos around her with her wide eyes as she stepped clear of the taxicab. There were people absolutely everywhere. Vendor stalls under colorful awnings and tents lined the outside walls of the buildings on both sides of the street, and both they and the buildings themselves overflowed with shoppers trundling canvas tote bags and loose items. In one tent area, plastic folding tables displayed hand-dipped candles. In another, a dingy rug laid on the sidewalk proffered ceramic jugs and stone yard ornaments. The aromas of countless exotic local delicacies hung heavily in the air. Even for a woman who spent her life surrounded by thousands of watts of speakers, the cacophony of bustling and bargaining was almost overwhelming.
Hitomi clutched Emi about the waist, looking around in starry-eyed wonder. “Ems… we’re home!”
“Just remember, whatever you buy, you gotta get on the plane and lug around with you for the next few weeks,” Ranko warned as Emi made a goofy face into a diamond-shaped infinity mirror that was propped against a wooden crate on the ground.
Emi shook her head, scowling a bit. “Naaah! We’ll just pack it up and ship it to Hitomi’s dads’ place, and it'll be there waiting for us when we get back to Japan! It'll be a little pricey, but the stuff here is so cheap, it’ll still work out better than buying most things at home!”
Ranko grinned broadly, looking over a small cement dragon painted in a brilliant blue. “You're a genius, Emi!”
Hitomi tittered, throwing her arm around Ranko’s shoulder. “Nah, we're just expert bargain hunters. It's almost like a martial art.”
“And in martial arts, anything goes,” Ranko replied with a smirk.
“You got it!” Emi cackled, wandering toward a folding table covered with an orange sarong under a green tent. She bounced on her heels, gasping loudly and pointing to something on the tabletop. “You guys! Check this out!”
Hitomi approached with Ranko in tow, and sputtered in laughter as her eyes caught what her girlfriend was drawing their attention to. Mixed among a sea of CDs in unwrapped jewel cases, most with covers printed on plain paper on a low-quality printer, was one bearing Ranko’s photograph. The Wild Orchid title text had been replaced with something in Filipino that Ranko didn’t understand.
“What the… I didn't think Yokai made CDs in any other languages!” Ranko picked it up, turning the case over to note that the back was also translated, equally inaccurately.
“They didn't,” Emi said. “These are bootlegs. Unauthorized copies.”
The man working the booth finished a sale at the far end of the table and rushed over to the trio. He greeted them in English. “Welcome, welcome! Please, look around! All the latest hits from around the world, yeah? Everything is a hundred percent authentic!”
Hitomi scoffed, nodding her head and replying in the English language they had in common. “Sure they are. I think we’d know.” She snatched the jewel case from Ranko’s hand, holding it up next to her friend’s face so the booth worker could compare the photo to the genuine article.
“Oh my… I'm so sorry! I… I didn't know!” The middle-aged man waved his hands defensively. “I'll get rid of it right away! I don't want any trouble!”
Ranko laughed, pulling her black leather purse forward on her hip and unzipping it. “Actually, I want to buy it!”
Emi put her hand over Ranko’s bag before she could pull it open. “Don't you dare pay this guy for robbing you!”
Hitomi turned to the vendor, waving the CD in the air. “We are taking this, and we had better not see any more of our albums on your table!”
The man cowed in defeat. Ranko was fairly certain he was about to roll over and show them his belly like a chastised puppy. “Yes! Yes! Please, take! So sorry!”
Ranko grinned, grabbing the case back from Hitomi’s hand and stuffing it down into her purse.
Emi shook her head with a disbelieving smile as the trio exited the stall. “Why the heck did you want that anyway, Ranko? It's not like you don't have a million of ‘em back at home.”
The redhead preened as she zipped her bag closed. “It’s something my pop used to say: you know you got somethin’ good when people are willing to steal it. Sure, this guy probably cost us a couple yen, but girls, this is what it looks like to make it! I can't friggin’ wait to show Akane!”
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Hitomi shook her head, rolling her eyes as the girls walked toward the next stall. “Uh, Ran-chan? I have told you you're a fuckin' weirdo, right?”
Ranko giggled, gripping her purse strap as they walked. “Not today…”
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“Oh my gods, you guys, you gotta try this.” Emi bounced excitedly on the rubberized metal bench attached to the red plastic picnic table, not waiting to swallow before speaking. She reached out to her left, thrusting the styrofoam bowl in her hand at her girlfriend.
Hitomi gazed down skeptically into the bowl. It contained a thick, brown stew with large lumps of meat and a variety of vegetables. It smelled sweet, and the broth almost had the consistency of melted ice cream. “What… is it?”
Emi swallowed, glancing at the menu chalkboard leaning against the wall of the little streetside cafe again to refresh her memory of what she ordered. “It's called kare kare. It's a peanut oxtail stew.”
“Sounds… interesting?” Hitomi shrugged, popping the white plastic spoon in her mouth. She emitted a quiet moan while it still protruded from her lips. “Oh, wow.” She motioned to the bowl with the spoon before dunking it back into the local delicacy and passing it to her left. “Ranko, girl, you gotta get in on this.”
Ranko took the bowl, exchanging it for her own. “Here, try my adobo. It’s chicken and it's got, like, vinegar and soy, I think?” She took a heaping spoonful of the peanut stew, her eyes widening as she chewed. Wait to talk until you swallow. Manners. Three years in, that’s still one of the hardest things to remember about the whole ‘being ladylike’ thing. “Yo, that is the bomb. I gotta get one!”
“Save room, if you wanna try that coconut fruit dessert thing,” Emi reminded her. “The… bilo bilo? How come everything in this country has the same name twice?”
Ranko giggled, passing her blonde friend back her bowl. “Beats me, Emi-Emi!” She grinned at her laughing friends. “Hey, thanks for today, you two. I really did need it; I’d have just sat in the room and pouted all day. Maybe let me sleep a little more next time, but…”
“Not a chance,” Hitomi said, tittering through a mouthful of sinigang. “Shop ‘til you die, sleep when you're dead.”
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“You've got to get this, Ems!” Ranko reached up to a long length of wire strung between two wooden poles in one of the many street stalls, pulling down a long orange wrap skirt and handing it to the tall blonde. The fabric was patterned with large white flowers, and its bottom hem was fringed in gold lace with little dangly tassels every few centimeters. “It would be just stupid cute on you!”
Gods help me, I've turned into Izumi.
Emi held the hanger up to her waist, turning to Hitomi. “Whatcha think, lover?”
The brunette bit her lip, nodding slowly. “It'll look fantastic on the floor, babes. But I think Ranko should get one, too. The orange will work really good with your hair, Ran-chan.”
“Yeah?” Ranko blushed a bit, brushing her wavy hair behind her right ear with her fingertips. “And what about you? Don't wanna be twi… triplets?”
Hitomi shook her head. “I'm too freakin’ short. I'd step on it. Besides, if I wanna wear it, I'll just borrow Emi’s.”
Emi gestured to her girlfriend, tittering with Ranko. “Bad enough she always wants to get in my pants, now she’s after my skirts, too?!”
“Keep teasin’, Ems, and I'll get into more than that when we get back to the room.” Hitomi tossed a pair of green silk panties from a nearby wire rack at her partner.
Emi grinned hungrily as she returned the underthings to the rack. “Promises, promises.” She turned to Ranko. “Go on. Go find one in your size! I wanna get it for you.”
“You sure?” Ranko blushed again. “You don’t have to. I've got my own money.” It was still a relatively new concept for her, however infrequently she actually did have money to spare. She'd done without for far long enough, so she was immensely proud of having worked herself into a position that she could consider herself a modest success.
Emi nodded, draping the skirt over her arm after checking the tag to ensure the correct size for herself “Uh-huh! I know you do, but… sometimes, it's just cool to spoil your friends!”
Ranko smiled warmly. “Okay, but I’ll get your next thing, then.” As she spoke, she felt her hair being messed with, and looked up in the mirror behind the sunglass display as Hitomi clipped a large banana clip bearing a white faux flower similar to those on the skirt.
“Oh, yeah. That's happening,” Hitomi said, noting the smile on her friend’s face and the slight blush on her cheeks. “You want one too, babes?”
Emi shook her head. “Nah. It’s too light; it’ll wash out in my hair. But for her, absolutely!”
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Still looking down at the postcards she had purchased to send home to Akane, Yui and Soun, Ranko followed behind her friends on autopilot as they turned into the next building.
“Okay, so if this is… alright, we make a right here, and…” Emi looked up from the trifold map at the sound of Hitomi cackling, and soon joined her in her laughter.
Ranko blinked, looking around at the shop she found herself in. It was far cleaner and classier looking than most of the stalls outside. Most of the displays consisted of glass shelves containing dozens of small, shiny boxes, well-lit in white light and pink neon. A framed poster of a brunette with blown-out hair, in just her black bra and panties, hung on the back wall. The store was entirely unfamiliar to Ranko, but clearly Hitomi and Emi knew something about it she did not.
“What the heck is this place?” There was a certain look about Ranko that Hitomi recognized as deer in headlights.
Hitomi bounced in her transparent gel heels, laughing heartily at her friend's naivety. “It's a toy store, ya dummy!”
Ranko looked up at her backup singers, a quizzical expression painted across her face. “They must do ‘em different here than at home, then. Hoshi’s birthday shopping trip didn't look nothin' like this.”
Emi sputtered, letting her face fall into her palm. “Oh, honey. What are we gonna do with you?”
As Emi spoke, Ranko reached out for a small pink ovoid on a nearby shelf, made of some sort of rubber or silicon. It was connected to a black controller with two buttons on it, and she pressed one of them, a curious expression in her eyes. She jumped back as the device began rattling angrily on the glass shelf with a loud buzzing sound. “The hell?!”
Both of her companions positively cackled, and several other shoppers looked up at the sudden outburst.
“Who the heck wants a toy like that?! Is it for cats, or somethin’?” Ranko looked around the shop, her face turning crimson. “Why’s everybody starin’ at me like that?”
Hitomi leaned closer to her friend, putting her arm over Ranko’s shoulder. “It’s not for cats, ya nutball. But it is for pussies…”
Ranko’s eyes almost fell out of her head as the wave of understanding crashed over her conscience like an avalanche down a mountainside. “...What?!” She looked at the device on the shelf again, backing away from it as if it were a face hugger from one of those sci-fi movies Mei liked to watch, and it might leap at her from the display and attack at any moment. She was humiliated to have even touched it.
“Have…” Emi blinked in surprise, lowering her voice. “Have you really never seen one of those before, Ranko?” She chuckled quietly, watching Ranko shrink from her gaze, shaking her head. Her face turned redder still as Hitomi joined in the laughter, far less discreetly.
Emi stepped closer, almost looking concerned. “How do you manage being away from Akane for weeks at a time, without… “ She made a gesture with her hand, rolling her wrist as if trying to summon the words. “... ya know? Do you just… use your fingers?”
Ranko scrunched up her face, shaking her head wildly. “My fi… no! Eww! I just… don’t! Not until I’m home with Akane.”
Hitomi cringed, recoiling in horror as if her friend had just told her she liked to eat babies on toast. “No wonder you were so bitchy in Australia!”
The tall blonde waved her girlfriend off, an urgency in her motions. “Stop, ‘Tomi. Don’t embarrass her.”
Too late, Ranko thought, her ears practically steaming from the warmth of her face.
Hitomi picked up a shiny silver box, looking it over. “We should get her one, Ems.”
“I… no, I don’t want… I’m okay, I…” If there was anything else Ranko said, it was lost in her ever-weakening stammer.
The young brunette shook her head almost piteously. “No! You’re our friend. We can’t let you go on suffering like that. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that a girl can actually die if she doesn’t…”
Emi smacked her girlfriend on the back of the head with her palm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get her attention. “Stop. I mean it! You’re freaking her out.” She lowered her voice as she turned back toward Ranko. “But, we will help you pick something, if you want.” She smiled reassuringly, resting her hand on Ranko’s shoulder. “Even if you wait to use it ‘til you’re home with her, they can be all kinds of fun.”
“But, I…” Ranko eyed the device on the counter suspiciously, her eyes trepidatiously making their way to the other selections on display. I feel like such a pervert just looking at this stuff, but, I guess Yui has stuff like this, and Hitomi and Emi obviously do…
Hitomi snatched up a purple box next to an oblong lavender device on a nearby glass shelf and offered it to her friend. “Jackpot. I think this is the one.”
Ranko took the box in her hands, her fingers trembling. She turned the little cardboard box in her hand, examining it on every side with wide, curious eyes as if it were some artifact she’d unearthed from a long-lost civilization. “Why? Is it… is it… good? What makes it good? Does it… feel nice? Is it gentle? How can you tell?”
“Gentle? Oh, honey.” Hitomi took the box from her hand, instead replacing it with the display model from the shelf next to it.
As Ranko caught it, Hitomi pressed a button hidden on the back end of it, and the device began to rumble violently in her hand.
“That’s the lowest setting. Girl, this sucker will fucking crack asphalt.”