Ranko cursed under her breath, dumping another pan of charred eggs into the trash receptacle atop her previous three attempts at breakfast. She was determined to get the recipe right, but it was hard standing close to the gas cooktop long enough to scramble the eggs, considering she could stand half a meter away from the blue ring of flame and still feel like she was going to pass out from the radiant heat. Fortunately, the late November air was cool and crisp, and she’d opened the window right next to the cooktop to vent out some of the warm air from her tiny kitchenette space.
It’s fine. I just wanna learn how to cook a little bit. It’s not like I’ve decided I’m gonna run out and find a dude to marry or anything! It’s not Kasumi’s stupid bridal training. I just don’t wanna starve. Besides, if I’m gonna pull off this whole ‘living as a girl full time’ thing, I’m gonna have to try to stop freaking out and feeling weird and gross every time I do a girly thing. It’s never gonna feel normal unless I decide to let it.
She blushed, trying to push the intrusive thoughts from her mind. She turned off the burner, her eyes lingering on the tiny pile of ash in the drip pan that had been the last remnant of her former life. Her eyes were still locked on it when there was a knock at her door.
“What the…” She frantically fanned the smell of burnt eggs out the open window with the back of the skillet. “Uhh, come in?”
Izumi entered the room, wearing a brown coat lined with faux leopard fur over a white sweater and a hot pink knee-length skirt. “Good morning, Ranko!” She hopped excitedly onto the foot of the still-unmade bed. “Mei told me everything about last night. I’m so sorry I missed it! I hope I’ll get another chance to see you sing! How did it feel?”
Ranko blushed more brightly. She was prepared to see her coworker - and, apparently, her new sister - first thing in the morning, but her fan club might have to wait until the caffeine kicked in. She’d taken to drinking soda instead of tea in the mornings, as it was freely available downstairs and, as an added bonus, did not feel like lava being poured down her throat when she drank it.
She grabbed one of the wooden chairs from around her tiny square dining table, carrying it closer to the bed. She started to sit on it backward and straddle it, before remembering that she was wearing a dress. I guess I gotta learn to do the whole ‘lady’ thing, if I’m gonna pull this off. Turning the chair forward, she sat down carefully, minding her skirt. “Hey, Izzi. You’re here early today.” She glanced over at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, which still read 8:04 AM. "Very early.”
The older girl laughed. “Trust me, when you have kids, you’ll forget what sleep feels like, too.”
Ranko blushed again, even more deeply this time. She seemed to be doing that a lot more lately. “Yeeaaah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves on that one, ‘kay? Anyway, why did you come in so early today? Your shift doesn’t start until two usually.”
Izumi waved her off. “Sometimes it’s just good to get out of the house and let Kaito and Hoshi have some boy time. And, more importantly, it lets me have some grownup time. It’s been three years, and I still swear to the gods, if I ever hear about that damned itsy bitsy spider one more fucking time…”
Ranko giggled and rolled her eyes. “Now that is a karaoke event I’d pay to see.”
The brunette shook her head. “Not in a million years. But you – our very own pop idol? Who knew?!”
Ranko hid her face behind her hands. More of that damned blushing again. Stop it, face! “Don’t get carried away. I impressed thirty drunks, and half of them probably were just hoping I’d take my top off. And I’m still gonna kill Mei for putting me up to that, by the way, so if you have any last words you’d like to say to her first…”
Izumi grinned, throwing a pillow at the younger girl. “Admit it! You had the time of your life up there, didn’t you?”
I swear, I don’t understand why girls need makeup for their cheeks if all they ever do is freaking blush. Ranko didn’t say anything, but she did give a guilty nod, and that sent Izumi into another fit of giggling.
When her laughing subsided, Izumi looked Ranko over a bit. She was wearing a white short-sleeved dress with a rosette at the base of the neckline, a mid-calf length skirt, and an embroidered pattern of white roses throughout. Somehow, it had seemed appropriate for her first day of thinking of herself as a bona fide girl. It had a white satin sash around the waist, tied in a bow at the back. Ranko would have taken it off; she thought that might be a little much, but it was sewn to the dress. Izumi knew the outfit well; it was hers. “I gotta say, you clean up good, kid.”
Ranko hid her face again. “I swear, if you don’t stop making me blush, I’m gonna black out from lack of blood to my, everything that isn’t my face!” If she was going to spend the rest of her life as a girl, though, she was at least glad she was a pretty one. It opened a lot of doors for girls, she had learned.
“One sec.” Izumi got up and bounced into the bathroom, opening one of the drawers. She returned with a small white object in her hand. “Here.” She brushed her hand forward into Ranko’s hair, pushing it out of her face, and pinning it back over her ear with a white lace bow on a banana clip.
Ranko wasn’t sure how she felt about putting bows in her hair, but she had to admit it was nice to have it out of her face and at the same time, not in the braid that tugged eternally on her sensitive scalp. She craned her neck over Izumi to look into the mirror on the back of the closet door, and she couldn’t help but acknowledge that she did look kind of cute. Harder still for her was acknowledging that not only was she cute, but she didn’t entirely hate it.
“Get your shoes and come downstairs with me.”
Ranko nodded, happy to oblige. She’d left her room in something of a state of disarray last night after her epiphany, and was a little bit embarrassed by it. After all, she was a guest, and she was determined to be respectful of the space she was being offered.
She bounded down the stairs after Izumi, and was surprised to be greeted in the bar kitchen by Hana. “Man, does nobody sleep on Saturdays around here? Good morning, Hana.”
The bar’s matriarch waved with a warm smile. “Good morning, Ranko. Aww, don’t you look pretty today?”
Ranko smiled, trying not to blush for a change. She failed miserably. “Thank you. Apparently I have a second job as Izzi’s personal dress-up model.”
Izumi laughed from a stool at the far end of the prep counter, affecting a posh accent. “And you’re fahhhbulous, dahhling. Simply smashing.”
Ranko looked around, seeing that Hana already had a fair amount of prep work done, but nothing being prepared seemed to match the types of food that the Phoenix normally served. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s going on with all this stuff?”
Izumi gestured to the trays. “Somebody booked the whole place for a private party tonight. Some super-important brat or something.”
Ranko nodded, picking up an black apron from a hook on the wall. She didn’t normally wear them, but she was wearing all white, and she didn’t want to risk damaging Izumi’s dress. “What can I do to help?”
Hana set her whisk down, walking over to the redhead and snatching the apron from her hands before she could get it over her head. “You can do absolutely nothing. It’s your day off, young lady.”
Ranko blinked in surprise. She hadn’t seen a schedule, but she had somewhat assumed that she would work every night so long as she was getting free room and board. “Are you sure? There looks like so much work to do, and you said it’s always busiest on Saturdays! I’m happy to pitch in. It’s the least I can do, after everything you’ve done for me. Come on, Izzi, let’s give her a hand.”
Izumi smirked, shaking her head and crossing her legs on the footrest of her steel stool. She folded her hands idly on the metal counter. “Sorry! No can do! It’s my day off, too.”
Ranko looked at her incredulously. After everything Hana’s done for her, she won’t even pitch in and help? How freaking ungrateful could you be? “If you’re not scheduled to work, what the heck are you even doing here? And at the butt-crack of dawn, no less?!”
Hana turned, grinning at Izumi over her shoulder. “You didn’t tell her.” She didn’t pause her stirring.
“I did not,” Izzi replied with a devious smirk.
Ranko looked between the two women, a mystified expression crossing her face. “Okay, you’re both making me nervous now.”
Izumi rose from her stool, making her way toward the redhead at the entrance to the kitchen. “I’ve been given an important mission. One that I am uniquely qualified to handle.” She took Ranko’s hand. “I am under strict orders to get you the hell out of this bar for a few hours and show you a good time. You haven’t seen anything outside these doors in days.”
Ranko laughed a bit nervously. “That’s not true. I totally took the trash out on Wednesday!” She turned to Hana. “But, are you sure you don’t need help? I really don’t mind.”
Hana waved her off. “Mei and Yui will be here any minute. I’ll be fine. Go on, get upstairs and get your stuff. Now, missy.”
Ranko stepped back, putting her hands up with a bright smile. “Okay, okay, I surrender! Be right back.” She darted back up the narrow stairway, pushing the door open. She rushed to the dinette table, grabbing her wallet. She looked at it with some measure of disdain - it was quite obvious that it wasn’t the sort of thing a girl would carry, and she couldn’t exactly hide it anywhere. The white dress she had borrowed did not sport the miraculous pockets of the lavender one she wore the day before. Crap. I don’t even have socks to stuff it in. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled the few bills from her billfold and rolled them up, palming them in her hand and heading downstairs.
Izumi held the heavy back door to the alleyway as soon as Ranko appeared at the foot of the stairs, motioning to her. “Come on, you!” As Ranko approached, the brunette took her by the wrist and pulled her along, not entirely gently.
A few minutes later, the girls found themselves seated next to each other on a train heading into the Shibuya shopping district. “So, listen, Ranko,” her companion began, “If you can think of anything fun you’d like to do, let me know. Besides that, is there anything you need? I know you kinda…” She looked around the train, not wanting to embarrass her friend and new surrogate sister. “... packed light.”
Ranko nodded, appreciating Izumi’s discretion. The reality was, she knew there were almost certainly things she needed, but she had no idea how to shop for them, and there was no way she could reasonably ask about it without looking like she had no idea how to be a girl. Last thing I need is getting figured out on day one.
“Hey, is your hand okay? You’ve had it in a fist since we got on the train.” Izumi motioned to Ranko’s left arm, which the redhead held cradled in her lap.
Ranko blushed, wincing a bit with embarrassment. “Yeah! I just didn’t have any pockets, so…”
Izumi shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t have a purse?”
The younger girl shook her head. “No, I… um… lost it?” A lie, but it beat the hell out of saying I’ve only been a girl for eight months, and haven’t really thought about it.
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“Okay. First order of business, then. We need to get you a bag. Fortunately for you, you are in the presence of a grand master black belt shopper.” Izumi made a mocking little gesture like she was taking a karate stance, swinging her flattened palms around in the air in front of herself.
Though Ranko was a bit embarrassed, she couldn’t help but laugh. Izumi’s form was terrible. “Yeesh! Well, Izzi, how’s about we leave the shopping to you, and the martial arts to me?”
The older girl shook her head. “Better idea. Let’s teach each other.”
Careful what you wish for, Ranko thought. I don’t think either of us are ready for that.
The doors of the train hissed open, and Izumi stood, shouldering her purse. “C’mon, Ran-chan. This is our stop.”
Ranko stood and followed, having really no earthly idea what she had gotten herself into by agreeing to go on the impromptu trip. She was concerned about spending a day shopping; she had made some money over the last week, but not nearly enough that she could afford to be frivolous.
Izumi led her out of the train station and down the sidewalk for about half a block, turning down a long walkway toward a large indoor shopping mall. Everywhere, people - mostly women, some accompanied by their husbands - scurried this way and that, paper sacks swinging on twine handles from their wrists. Ranko scurried to the other side of Izumi, clinging onto her wrist and hiding behind her somewhat.
“Hey, what are you…” Izumi sighed softly. “You’re okay, sweetheart. There’s no need to be nervous.”
Ranko swallowed hard. “I just… I feel so out of place here. This isn’t normal for me. I don’t want to embarrass you.”
Izumi stopped, turning to Ranko and shaking her head. “Honey, you’re not embarrassing me. Not at all. I mean it. Don’t you ever think that.”
The redhead nodded, managing a small smile and following as Izumi resumed walking. I am wanted, Ranko thought to herself. I have worth. I have people who care about me. She smiled more fully when Izumi pulled open the glass door to the shopping center, holding it open behind her for Ranko.
“So, this is a good place to start.” Izumi led her companion into a small shop containing dozens of little white cylindrical podiums, each displaying some different sort of purse or bag, with little spotlights highlighting each one. Metal racks holding more assorted bags were mounted to the walls, and multi-level displays dominated the aisles. Here and there, plastic bins containing even more bags could be found.
Ranko looked around in disbelief. Do girls actually need so many of these things? How the hell do you even… fuck. I don’t stand a chance.
“Do you see anything you like?” Izumi nudged Ranko’s hip with her own, stirring her out of her bewilderment.
Ranko looked around, utterly devoid of any idea where to start. She turned to Izumi and shrugged. “I’m… not exactly the poster child for cute. Do you have any advice?”
Izumi looked her over head to toe. “Girl, if you don’t think you can pull off cute, there’s no hope for any of us.”
Ranko’s face caught fire, and she looked down at her feet demurely. It only enhanced the effect in Izumi’s eyes.
“Okay. We’re not looking for something specialized to match an outfit perfectly or anything. We want something a little more neutral that can go with everything. So we’re looking mostly for black, white, gray or tan. That eliminates about half the store. Making progress! Now, you don’t have a ton of stuff to carry; eventually you might need a decent-sized bag like this one for makeup and stuff, but for right now we’re looking for keys, wallet, identification, stuff like that. So we don’t need anything huge. We’re not going formal gowns, so clutches are out; we want something with backpack straps or a shoulder strap.”
Ranko watched her work with wide eyes. This is like a science to her. It’s honestly kind of impressive.
“Since it’s going to be a daily driver, we probably want to nix white; it’ll show a lot of scuffs if you carry it all the time. Something darker will look good longer with repeated use. So, I think we’re looking black or dark gray, small sized, shoulder straps or backpack straps. There can’t be too many of those. Let’s start looking!” Izumi scurried off toward a large spinning aluminum display rack to her left.
Ranko was tempted to follow, but clearly the expectation was that she could hold her own, so she decided to try. Walking by several dozen options that Izumi’s exacting criteria had eliminated, she picked up a pewter-colored shoulder bag. It was large enough to maybe carry two or three times the volume of the masculine wallet she’d left back at the bar, though she suspected that would be getting retired. The strap was a silver-colored metal chain. She picked it up, not sure at all what to do next. Izumi was on the entirely opposite side of the store, blazing through the displays like a bargain-seeking missile, so Ranko decided to carry the candidate bag with her and continue looking.
The next bag she picked up was a black leather bag that was taller than it was wide, with a long black shoulder strap. It had a flap that opened from the top and buckled in the front with a silver clasp that was shaped like a rose. A border of white flowers lined the edge of the flap on three sides. It looked like it could hold perhaps a small hardcover book. Ranko picked it up, looking at it with the sort of mystified expression that one would expect to see on someone that had just encountered an alien.
“Oh, now that is cute!”
Ranko looked up from her examination as Izumi closed on her. “Huh?”
“Open it up?” Izumi closed the distance between them, looking down at the second bag Ranko had selected.
Ranko complied, unclasping the bag clumsily and gazing into its interior, though she had no idea what would constitute good or bad once she saw it.
“Okay, so it’s got lots of little pockets inside. That’s great if you aren’t going to carry a separate wallet and everything, and you can still keep things organized. But it’s got a big enough central compartment that you can carry something of decent size if you needed to.” Izumi grabbed the little yellow tag dangling from the strap. “And it’s on sale, too. You’re better at this than you let on, girl!”
Ranko chuckled nervously. She hadn’t gotten as far as finding the price tag, but she already dreaded it.
“Do you like it?” Izumi’s eyes rose from the bag back to her new sister’s face, gauging her reaction.
Ranko shrugged, a befuddled expression on her face. “It’s nice, I think.” It wasn’t over-the-top girly with big pink bows and sequins like a lot of what the store carried, and it did fit all of Izumi’s criteria.
Izumi beamed excitedly. “Why don’t we grab this one then, and if we see something else later, maybe we’ll grab that, too?”
This is sounding expensive already. Ranko nodded tentatively, bowing to the pressure of the entire experience. She had planned to spend the morning peeling potatoes when she woke up, and experiencing her first shopping trip as a girl instead was still quite a culture shock for the bewildered teen.
Izumi took the bag from Ranko, setting down the selections she had made and dismissed, and carried it to the counter. Ranko began to count out her money, but Izumi waved her off. “Mama sent me with a budget. We got this. I’d tell you to put your money away, but I guess you can’t until we finish ringing out.” Izumi giggled.
Ranko smiled sheepishly. She hated the idea of more handouts, but she couldn’t deny that did need some things, and didn’t want to be rude and refuse. Besides, if she was going to learn to live this new life - and she had committed to herself that she would do so just a few hours earlier - she was going to need to figure a lot of things out, and Izumi was proving to be an excellent mentor whether she knew it or not.
Izumi completed the transaction, breaking the string holding the price tag onto the buckle at the base of the strap. She turned to Ranko, handing the bag to her. “Here you go!”
Ranko smiled nervously. “Thanks!” She opened the silver clasp again, finding a small pocket with a zipper closure and slipping the fistful of bills she’d been carrying for an hour into it. At least they’ll be more secure in there, she thought. She slung the bag over her shoulder, and it hung down almost to her knees. “What do you think?”
Izumi put her head in her palm and shook her head, smiling amusedly. “Oh, honey. What are we going to do with you?” She reached over to the strap, using the buckle to tighten it to a more reasonable length, and then picked it up off of Ranko’s shoulder and draped it over her head onto the opposite shoulder such that the strap crossed Ranko’s torso between her breasts. “There. Much better.”
Ranko agreed – not only would it not bang her knees when she walked, but having it close to her body meant it would stay put better if she had to fight while wearing it.
“Okay! On to the next stop!” The shopping spree was supposed to be Ranko’s day out, but Izumi was clearly the more excited of the two women about it.
Ranko fidgeted with the bag strapped to her side, the black leather contrasting with the white dress she had on. She knew that she’d never be able to hide her confusion for long under the circumstances. She had to come up with an explanation, and fast.
“Hey, Izzi – thanks for your advice. I’m kind of embarrassed that I’m not… ya know, better at, like, fashion and style and all of that shit. I can tell it’s really important to you. My dad and I left home when I was really little, so I really never got to know my mother, and I didn’t have, like, any sisters or anything. I guess I’m trying to say, I never really had any girls to learn all of this stuff from growing up. I’m really sorry; I want to be excited and all, I just kind of feel like an idiot.” A tomboy, more like. She had thought to use that word first, but decided against it because it felt like admitting something was wrong with her. A wave of guilt crashed over her. Is this how it felt every time I called Akane a tomboy? No wonder she was always so mad at me. She wondered if she’d ever get a chance to apologize. She doubted it.
Izumi stopped in the middle of the mall, turning to face her companion and taking Ranko’s hands in her own. “I don’t know how many times we have to tell you this, Ranko, but… you do have sisters now. You don’t have to be embarrassed about where you come from or the situation you grew up in. You don’t have to apologize for your past. We’ve all been through hell, and none of us are in a place to judge anybody. If you want to keep doing what you’re doing, that’s fine. Nobody’s going to try to change you. But if you want help with this stuff, we are here for you.” She smirked proudly. “Especially when it comes to style. After all, I’m almost done with my fashion design degree.”
She flashed Ranko a soft smile. “But, seriously, though. Mama took all of us in because our own families weren’t there for us. But now, we’ve become an even stronger family because all of us chose to be part of it rather than being born into it by dumb luck.” With a closing step, she wrapped her arm around Ranko’s shoulders. “You aren’t alone anymore, little sister. Not in this, and not in anything.”
Ranko felt herself melt into the taller girl’s arms. Not being alone anymore really did sound amazing. Even when she’d lived with the Tendos, with six other people in the house, she always felt like she was on an island of her own and nobody truly understood her, or cared to try. “I don’t know what I did to deserve meeting you all, but I’m glad.”
Izumi pulled back from the hug so she could look sincerely into Ranko’s blue eyes. “We all are, too.” She took Ranko by the hand again. “This must be so overwhelming for you. You’ve been with us barely a week and here we are, declaring ourselves your family, dragging you shopping just when you’ve finally got a little money in your pocket – well, your purse!” She giggled a little. “We can do this at your own pace. Please tell me, or any of us, if we’re being too overbearing. We want to help relieve pressure on you, not add more.”
Ranko nodded in understanding and appreciation. “Izzi, that means more to me than you know. My whole life, I’ve felt like I am trying to live up to everybody else’s expectations. I want to live for me for a while, and I’m not really sure I know what that looks like.” She looked down at her new bag, and the hem of her dress flitting lightly around her legs as she walked. “I’ve always been terrible at being a girl, and it’s made everything so awkward for me. I’m not trying to be a Barbie doll or anything, but I think I would like to learn, a little bit. At least, enough that I don’t just come off as weird.” If Ranko is here to stay, I need to stop acting like I’m still trying to be a boy.
Izumi nodded. Poor thing, having to grow up as a teenage girl without anybody to teach her about makeup, or prepare her for the changes a woman’s body goes through at a certain age, or any of that stuff. No wonder she always looks so uncomfortable and nervous. While all of the girls in their little haphazard clan had been abandoned by their biological families, none so early as Ranko’s apparently had. “There’s no wrong way to be a girl, but I think I get what you mean. I think we can help you out with that, miss Ranko.” Izumi smiled disarmingly down at her new young charge.
Ranko blushed furiously. She was adjusting well enough to answering to the name Ranko, but she didn’t know that she’d ever get used to being a miss. This was your decision. You chose to let go of your old life so you had room to build a new one, and that’s going to be a little uncomfortable for a while, she coached herself mentally.
Izumi slid herself onto a bench surrounding a little indoor planter, inviting Ranko to join her. “So, why don’t you tell me what you think you want to do, and I’ll see if I can help?” Ranko looked up at her nervously, and Izumi continued. “Honey, I told you. No judgment. If you want, we don’t even have to tell the others anything.” Izumi smiled reassuringly, placing her arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders again.
Ranko blushed yet again. Even if she did know what she needed - and she doubted she did - she didn’t know how she’d ever formulate the words to ask for it. A few short weeks ago, she’d have clobbered anybody who suggested she wear a dress, let alone carry a purse or any of the rest of it. She wondered if she had made a huge mistake. Am I really ready for all of this?
She swallowed hard. The only way out was through. “I, um…” She bit her bottom lip nervously. “There’s just so much. I don’t know what’s important, or even what I’m not thinking of. I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing. I mean, I essentially grew up… like a boy, and I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” If only Izumi knew how literally she meant it. It would be so much easier if Ranko could tell her, I was a guy until eight months ago, but that seemed like it wouldn’t end well for anybody.
Izumi nodded. “It’s okay. What did I tell you about apologizing? Girls learn this stuff one step at a time growing up, and so will you. I’ve got you, honey. Would it be easier if I made suggestions?”
Ranko nodded emphatically, looking up at her new sister with wide, hopeful eyes. “Please?”
“You got it!” Izumi rose to her feet, offering Ranko her hand. “Come on, Cinderella. Let’s get you ready for the ball.”