Phoenix: Reignited Edition [Ranma 1/2]

[AnneOminous]

I'm so very sorry this is a day late, Firebirds. I have zero backlog right now after some grueling times during the holidays, and with a commitment to release four chapters a week - all of them new this week during this new arc in Reignited, it's been a tough slog. As soon as I'm done posting this chapter everywhere, I'm downing another energy drink and cranking out the finale to this arc, so you will get a chapter tomorrow too, even if it's late in the evening like this.

 

[AnneOminous]

"This is perfect," Mei said with a giggle as she turned her gift over in her hands. It was sky blue, almost the same color as her hair, with pixelated white flowers embroidered onto its nylon body. She pulled open the hook-and-loop closure, examining the internal storage of the small carrying case. "Oh, rad! There's spots for the games and everything!"

Ranko beamed, stealing a quick, victorious glance at Ayako. Toldja she'd like it. "Well, I thought, you keep dropping your Game Boy in the bar, and one of these days, it's gonna break if you don't have something better than your purse to carry it in."

With an emphatic nod that sent the red bows in her long blue pigtails bobbing, Mei reached for the shabby yellow cloth drawstring bag that served as her daily driver purse. "I mean, this is the third one I've had as it is, so, you're totally right!" She pulled the grayish device from her purse, tucking it into the padded main compartment before beginning to connect the periwinkle plastic clips of the shoulder strap to the matching loops on either side of the bag.

"At least she only cracked the screen on the second one," Izumi said, giggling as she sidled back to her spot on the couch between her boyfriend and son, handing Kaito a disposable plastic cup full of eggnog that smelled strongly of cinnamon and rum. "The first one ended up in the freakin' fryer."

"Proof," Yui said with a grin at Mei, "that not everything is better deep-fried. Most things, I'll grant, but…"

Ranko giggled, pulling her knees under her skirt from her seat on the floor next to the sparsely-decorated Christmas tree in the living room of Hana's apartment. She wore the velvet green dress and hat from her Christmas concert, it being the most festive outfit she owned. She nearly froze in it on the short walk from the Phoenix in the dawn hours of Christmas morning, but she wanted to fully embrace the event. I'm having a real Christmas, with a real family. I want them to see just how excited I am. How grateful I am just to get to be a part of it, she thought as the twinkling white lights on the artificial tree sparkled in her blue eyes.

She smiled brightly up at an orange origami bird, made of a heavy construction paper, that rested on one of the lowest branches of the tree. She had made it that morning, at Hana's insistence. It took her four tries, but she wanted it to be flawless. It bore her name, written in romaji lettering like the signatures she'd occasionally give bar patrons, along its belly. Most of the tree was decorated with white swans, but there were eight paper birds of differing colors sprinkled throughout, each with a name written on them. As Hana described it, they were not swans like the white ones, but phoenixes - and each represented a member of their family. Hana's black bird rested near the middle alongside Ayako's green and Kage's gray, while Mei's powder blue and Yui's tan bookended the silver plastic star at the treetop. Izumi's fuschia ornament was flanked by Hoshi's red on the left, and the deep purple one Kaito had been invited to make alongside Ranko that morning on its right. Our little flock. And I get to be a part of it, Ranko mused in wonder.

So engrossed was she with every detail of the tree that she did not notice the projectile flying at her head. It struck her on the temple, the impact mostly blunted by the overlap of her Santa hat. It didn't matter all that much; even with the power of the Full-Body Cat's Tongue amplifying her every physical sensation, Ranko doubted that the lobbed wad of cerulean wrapping paper would have hurt. "Hey!" She turned, gasping in Mei's direction.

"Well, you're not doing your job, blockhead! Get in the game, here! The youngest girl's always on distribution and trash duty! Let's go!" Mei laughed as Ranko retrieved the wrapping paper from the floor and crammed it down into the bulging black trash bag at her feet.

"She's enjoying that far too much," Hana said with a laugh in the direction of her eldest daughter. She wore a heavy red plaid pair of flannel pajama pants and a plain black sweatshirt, her hair held back with a simple white headband.

Ayako nodded, grinning at the redhead seated on the floor. "Can't say as I blame her; she spent three Christmases down there. She was just hoping for a promotion before it ended up being Hoshi's turn."

"Aww, man, do I have to?" Hoshi whined, looking up from his new Godzilla figurine for the first time in twenty minutes.

Laughing, Ranko shook her head as she reached behind her for a bulky square package wrapped in a shiny gold foil paper with a pair of large silver bows with long tails that dangled almost all the way to the floor. "Nah, little man - I showed up just in time to spare you. Let's see, this one's for…" She searched the package for a loose bit of wrapping paper that had been folded over itself and taped to the box between the bows. Finding it, she opened it like a tiny book, reading the immaculate calligraphy written within. "Me, from Izzi, Kaito and Hoshi. Aww, you guys! I already got one from you." Indeed, the young redhead was grateful for the heavy violet electric blanket she'd been gifted previously. Man, that heating thing is gonna feel so good when it gets cold tonight, she thought with a toothy grin.

Izumi shrugged, sipping from her cup of eggnog with a satisfied grin on her cheeks. "Well, you need a lot of stuff. Besides, there's three of us. Now, you gonna bitch, or you gonna open it?"

Needing no further encouragement to tear open the paper with her green gel-coated fingernails over the sound of her sisters' laughter, Ranko extracted a large brown shoebox. It was more square than those she was used to seeing. Okay? Popping a few strips of transparent tape holding the box closed, she removed its lid and the crinkly white tissue paper underneath to reveal a pair of white boots with flat soles. They looked to be about ankle-height, made of a puffy, almost plastic material not unlike Mei's winter coat. The ankle openings were lined with a soft white fur-like material.

"Hopefully, those'll keep your feet warm," Izumi explained. "Since you're always shivering whenever we go out, Little Miss Frosty."

Yeah, well, the Cat's Tongue is kind of a bitch in ankle-deep snow, Iz, Ranko thought as she excitedly pulled the thin black boot off of her left foot and slipped the corresponding white one on in its place. She stifled a giggle as the soft fur tickled the backs of her calves. Definitely gonna need bigger socks with these. "Oh, wow! Yeah, these are so much better, thanks!"

After donning the matching boot and putting her black pair in the box in its stead, she returned the box to the second-largest pile under the tree, where she'd been organizing her gifts. Only Hoshi's pile was bigger, as Ranko expected given the inexpensive toys the child had received, and the family's insisting to the boy that half of them had come from Santa Claus himself.

Ranko blushed as she reached for the next wrapped gift, remembering her own brief encounter with "Santa" at the mall a few days prior. We'll see if you pull that request off, buddy, she thought with a grin as she checked the gift tag on a large package wrapped in green paper dotted with illustrations of red cartoonish elves and reindeer. I wonder what Akane's doing. I hope she's having fun.

"To Ayako and Kage, from Yui," she read aloud before handing the package up to her eldest sister on the loveseat behind her with both hands. "Careful, it's heavy."

Grunting as the weight of the box was transferred into her hands, Ayako pulled it back into her lap. She herself was seated on her new husband's lap, her ankles crossed under the viridian A-line dress she wore. It was printed all over with large red poinsettia blooms. "What do you think it is, babe?"

Kage leaned down and rested his chin on his wife's shoulder, tickling her neck a bit with his stubble and eliciting a bright laugh and a slight squirm from her. "Based on the size and the weight, I'm thinking… a pony."

"A pony?! Okay, Mr. Jirito, no more eggnog for you," Ayako said as she searched for a seam in the wrapping paper big enough to slip her slender fingers under. She tore the paper from the box, revealing a stainless steel slow cooker. "Oh, wow, Yui! This is gonna be so great!"

The blonde shrugged, looking over at Mei with an air of surprise in her eyes. "Yeah! I hear that kind makes really good… food." Her sister and roommate giggled in response, and Yui hid her face in her hand. You don't gotta make it that obvious you picked it out for me, Mei! Damn, girl!

"Since we have a master bartender here, maybe you could settle a question for me, Yui," Kaito asked with a chuckle. "Does red wine or white go best with food?"

Giggling almost uncontrollably, his wife-to-be turned to him and answered on her sister's behalf. "Definitely wet wine. The very best kind."

"Look here, you little shit, it ain't my fault I've been parked behind the bar for years and never get to go in the kit…" Yui's voice trailed off as the wadded ball of wrapping paper that had been torn from the slow cooker ricocheted off the shoulder of her ivory cable-knit sweater.

Ranko shoved a large box, almost a meter on a side and wrapped in shiny silver foil by a clearly unpracticed hand, across the hardwood floor toward her sister's feet. Despite its size, it seemed to have very little weight to it. "You wanna focus, sis? We're still gonna be opening presents on Foundation Day at this rate."

Leaning down to the floor, Yui picked up the box, a curious expression building on her face. "The hell? What's in here, air?" She tore into the paper, letting it fall in a few large shreds to the floor around her ankles and revealing a box labeled as containing four bottles of a popular brand of rum. It had obviously been opened and resealed with clear packing tape.

"Alright, what in the heck could…" The blonde popped the last strip of tape free of the box flaps and it burst open, as if its contents did not fit properly in the box without the support. She peered down into the box, her eyes widening - and watering. "What…"

Reaching down into the large corrugated box, she extracted a plush bottle-nosed dolphin, its dorsal side blue and underside grey. It was soft to the touch and not firmly stuffed, with large, expressive blue eyes made of plastic and a little indentation atop its head to indicate a blowhole. The bartender's jaw fell slack as she lifted it, examining it from every possible angle. "It's… who the hell could have… I never told anybody…"

She set the plush down on her leg, reaching down for the discarded wrapping paper and searching for the tag. Finding it on the third shred of paper she checked, she lifted her eyes across the floor to her youngest sister, who sat silently, watching her with pride painted across her face. "Ranko, this is…"

The redhead stood from her cross-legged seat on the floor, closing the three-step distance to stand in front of the battered green recliner that Yui occupied. "You know… a very wise woman told me something once: our pasts will never go away, but we can choose not to let them mess with the present."

Yui rocketed out of her seat, the dolphin nearly falling off the armrest of the chair to the floor. She wrapped her arms tight around Ranko's neck, resting her elbows on the shorter girl's shoulders. "I don't know how you even knew, but… Ranko, it's perfect. Thank you."

"No, Yui," Ranko said, her voice muffled as she spoke into the plush sweater sleeve pressed around her. "Thank you. For everything. For showing me there's a way out of the hole I was in when you found me."

The tall blonde sniffled, lowering her head and wiping her damp eyes on the shoulder pad of Ranko's green velvet dress. "I love you, kiddo."

With a happy sigh, Ranko squeezed tight around Yui's waist in return. "I love you too, big sister."

A merry laugh pierced the tender moment, and both women released the hug to turn to Yui's right and face the source. Mei stood from her white plastic folding chair, shaking her head. "Would you girls mind taking it a little easy on the mushy shit? It is way too early to have to redo my makeup."

"It's okay," Yui said, pulling her diminutive sister between herself and Ranko and hugging them both in her arms. The pair almost seemed like children standing next to her, with Yui having nearly thirty centimeters of height advantage over Ranko before the heeled boots she wore, and Ranko herself being a few centimeters taller than her next eldest sister. "It didn't look that good anyway."

"Heeey!" Mei whacked Yui in the forearm with her left fist, her right arm still draped over Ranko's shoulder. "You didn't say anything before we left the apartment!"

The blonde shrugged, speaking over the laughter of the rest of their haphazard little clan. It all but echoed in the small living room. "You were gonna make us later than we already were, and besides… we're all family here. All of us already knew you're a fucking disaster."

Izumi stood from the couch, stretching her back with a loud vocalization as she reached for the ceiling with clenched fists. "Man, we're gonna have to start earlier next year at this rate! Santa was awfully generous to us again this year. We must've been really good!"

"Or at least, good at it," Hana said in reply, earning a blush and a scoff mid-yawn from Izumi.

"Mama!" Izumi shook her head, a look of shock on her face. "In front of Hoshi? Really?!"

Yui laughed, throwing her arm over Izumi's shoulders. Ranko had flitted off behind the Christmas tree, leaving her a free side for hugs. "Kiddo's growing up in this family; he's gonna have to get used to it."

The old barkeep started to stand from her seat next to Kage and Ayako, but Ranko waved her back. "Just a second, Mama. There's one more thing." She emerged from behind the tree, a large, flat package wrapped in paper depicting a mosaic of lit candles in every color and size in her hands. The family's youngest ward handed the final gift to Hana, who eyed it curiously.

"Well, go on," Ranko urged, a contented smile on her face. "Clearly, everybody's hungry, so…"

Hana tore into the paper, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes widened as she took in the black-framed canvas painting Ranko and Ayako had selected, a red near-silhouette of a regal-looking phoenix preparing to take flight from its perch against the backdrop of a rising sun.

Ranko reached down, helping tear the paper from the last corner of the unwieldy gift so Hana could see it in full. "I figured, for your office? Give it a little more life, ya know?"

"I think it's beautiful, Ranko," Hana said, starting to set the frame down on the floor to stand.

"Hey, Mama?" Mei motioned to the frame, wagging her finger at it. "There's something written on the back."

As Ranko looked on, beaming with pride, Hana hefted the frame back into her hands. She turned it over in her lap, beginning to read the characters aloud. The characters were written in a sloppy but careful hand in silver marker to allow them to stand out against the black lacquered frame.

"For the woman who made a bar a home, and made a bunch of strangers a family," she said in a quavering voice.

---

"Look out!"

Mei ducked her head, not that she needed the extra clearance as a wooden tray passed harmlessly over her head in Ayako's hand. "Low bridge!" she exclaimed with a giggle.

Raising her voice over the loud mechanical whirring sound that filled the apartment's tiny kitchen, Hana rested her hand on Izumi's back to alert her daughter to her presence. "How we looking on the potatoes?"

Pausing the old, industrial green stand mixer to quell the racket, Izumi looked back over her shoulder with a smile. "Five more minutes, tops? Just trying to get the last few lumps out."

"Mmph. Needs more butter," Mei declared as she swallowed, pulling her finger back out of her mouth.

Blinking down at the narrow trench that had been swiped through the mashed potatoes in the mixing bowl, Izumi shot a glare over at her little sister. "Mei Hotoro! You little…" The brunette sighed, chuckling with a defeated shake of her head. "Get me the butter."

"I got it," Ranko said, darting off to retrieve a red ceramic dish that had already been carried into the living room. There, Hana's small dining table and two folding tables retrieved from the Phoenix had been butted end-to-end and covered with holly red tablecloths to create enough seating for nine people. There were four chairs to each side, with a place of honor for Hana on the table's far short side. As befits the head of her clan, Ranko thought with an easy smile.

She paused for a moment in the narrow archway between the living room and kitchen, watching the chaos as the meal came together. Ayako stood at an electric frying pan, dropping the last few drumsticks of raw chicken into sizzling peanut oil. She wore a red full apron styled to look like a winter dress, as if it were of the same design as Santa Claus' signature suit, with a thin fringe of white lace dangling from the hem. Mei hovered over the small butcher block island, filling dozens of five-centimeter pie crusts with a bright green mixture from a bulging pastry bag. Izumi continued coaxing the potatoes into the path of the mixer's twin beaters with a plastic spatula. Hana had lined up a series of stem glasses on one edge of the countertop, and was bouncing a chilled bottle of fragrant red wine over them in sequence.

Ranko turned her gaze back to the living room, where Kaito and Kage sat on the couch, watching a pop music performance from a popular girl group on Hana's small television. The concert was being broadcast live from an amphitheater in downtown Shibuya. Ranko recognized the venue. She'd slept huddled behind the speakers on the concrete stage one night in October, when a torrential rain had forced her to take shelter under the overhang protecting the audio equipment from the elements. Hoshi sat on the floor at his soon-to-be stepfather's feet, surrounded by his new action figures, seemingly oblivious to all the commotion surrounding him.

"Shit," Yui cursed under her breath, turning off her sister's portable video game device after losing her final life as quickly as she had the previous two. She slipped it back into Mei's new carrying case, returning it to its place hanging off the back of the threadbare green recliner in the living room. She glanced back up at the television as the idol group's song ended. With a gesture toward the screen, she turned her gaze up toward her youngest sister. "Who knows, Ran-chan? Maybe next year, we're all gonna be sittin' here watching you up there."

A tinny metallic clatter rang out behind Ranko, coming from the direction of the kitchen. The young singer turned to seek its source, finding Mei dropping to her knees. Mei began to wipe a bit of her lime meringue from the pale green tiled floor with an old shred of yellowing bath towel that had been cut into a size more befitting a dishrag. A broken pie crust lay a few centimeters away, where it had fallen from the counter and landed upside-down.

"Hot chicken!" Ayako yelled as she rescued the last breaded drumstick from the crackling hot oil in her electric frying pan with a pair of long aluminum tongs.

"Mm! Save me a thigh," Hana called back in reply, rushing to respond as she swallowed the mouthful of wine she'd drunk directly from the now-empty bottle owing to it not fitting in any of the glasses arrayed in front of her.

"We know, Mama! You always want the dark meat," Mei shouted as she rose from the floor, tossing the larger pieces of the graham cracker pie crust into a waiting plastic trash receptacle on the floor next to the butcher's block.

"Hey, Ranko?!" Izumi looked back over her shoulder from the mixer, urgency in her eyes. "Where the heck's my butter?!"

Crap, Ranko thought, stirring from her looking down at the butter dish still in her hand. Despite having been caught slacking in her responsibility, she couldn't help but linger in place for one last moment to soak in the scene.

It's absolute chaos, Ranko mused as she watched her benefactors finalize their preparations. It's a disorganized, wild, weird-ass mess from one end to the other. This whole thing has absolutely no business working.

She beamed brightly, watching as Ayako scolded Mei for pilfering a steamed pod of edamame with her fingers.

But it does.

Hana whizzed past her youngest charge, beginning to distribute wine glasses around the long table. Ranko heard her say something in the periphery of her consciousness, probably calling Yui and the boys to the table, but paid it no mind. She watched, almost enthralled, as Ayako, Mei and Izumi laughed together in the kitchen, with Ayako wagging a long pod of edamame in Mei's face as if scolding a misbehaving puppy.

They all come from different places. Different backgrounds. And yet… it works, for no other reason than because they decided to make it work. I guess at the end of the day, that's all it really takes. Ranko looked up, a giddy smile still lingering on her cheeks as she felt a hand rest on her shoulder and sought its source.

"Hey, little sis. You gonna come sit down, or what?" Yui asked, gently rumpling the shorter girl's wavy red hair with her hand.

"Not yet, she isn't!" Izumi shouted back. "I still need my damn butter!"

They are a family, Ranko asserted in her mind, blushing at her flightiness as she hurried back into the kitchen to deliver the butter dish. Crazy. Mismatched. Strange.

And absolutely perfect.

The loud whir of the stand mixer ended, and Izumi pulled the stainless steel bowl from its turntable with a clatter. She tapped each of the two beaters on its rim a few times to free the last few gobs of potatoes caked within them, the loud metallic ping of each strike effectively sounding the dinner bell. Ranko stood transfixed next to the butcher block, watching as Izumi passed her with the bowl, took the seat between her son and fiancé, and handed the bowl to Kaito on her right.

"Ranko! Do you need an engraved invitation? C'mon, honey! It's gonna get cold!" Hana waved to the dazed redhead, pushing the empty folding chair to her left out from under the table with her foot.

They are a family, Ranko repeated in her thoughts as she rounded the table, smiling sweetly to Hana and taking her seat.

And I am one of them.

 

[AnneOminous]

I. Suck.

This was supposed to be Thursday's chapter, and I'm only an hour away from not getting it posted in time for Saturday's release window. The last few weeks have continued to be amazingly hectic - the last few days in particular - but it has been amazingly good stuff. My life has been turning for the better in almost every conceivable way - and it's just been eating up a lot of time to do it.

With the Bad Times in October through December eating through all of my chapter backlog, and things still being insanely busy here in Anneworld, it hasn't been a great time to need to write whole-cloth chapters weekly for Book XIII and a four-chapter, fifteen thousand word brand-new arc for Book II of Reignited simultaneously. That arc now concludes, and I am so very proud of it. As soon as I get this chapter posted, I'm going to grab a quick bite and set about reigniting the chapter that was supposed to come out today, and with any luck, get that out either tonight or in the morning as well to get back on track.

It's becoming clear to me that at some point soon - the most logical point being the end of Reignited book II in a few more chapters - I'm going to need to pause for a few days to catch my breath and rebuild a backlog. I didn't want to have to do that, but when I set this schedule - and the even more ambitious one I've already scaled back from - I was not counting on the total and complete life upheaval I have experienced since October. Things are good now - better than I can recall them ever being - but I am just now starting to clear away the debris of the stability I had to bulldoze to create space for something new and improved, and thinking about what new palace is going up in its place. It's exciting, and terrifying, and very, very time-consuming.

Anyway. Enough rambling. Enjoy some belated Christmas fluff! I'm so sorry again for the delay, I appreciate everyone who has reached out with support (and insistence that I should look out for myself first and the story second, if that), and I promise I'm evaluating ways to do this that I can reliably deliver without continuing to fry my brain six ways from Sunday. I love you all, my wonderful Firebirds.

~ Anne

 

[AnneOminous]

As the sun rose on the first day of 1990, the young singer-in-residence of the Phoenix swayed behind the service bar humming an upbeat Japanese pop song. She made quick work of arranging the Collins glasses she extracted from the dishwasher onto the back bar behind her, readying them to be filled with the mojitos and Dragonfire cocktails of a Wednesday night service shift. The last week-plus since the Christmas concert had been a blur for her, a whirlwind of family activities, shopping, and work. Her throat was still a little scratchy after spending most of the previous night's New Year's Eve celebration on stage, though the performance had been nowhere near on the scale of the twin Christmas shows that had saved the little dive bar she called home from financial ruin. Must be the cold weather getting to me, she thought with a shiver.

Perhaps the biggest reason the days had run together since the Christmas show was that she hadn't seen Akane since the morning after it, and Ranko missed her something terribly. She hadn't even had a chance to give her girlfriend her Christmas gift yet. Ranko had never been anyone's girlfriend before - despite all the boys who'd tried to claim her as such since her fateful trip to Jusenkyo - but she was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to feel as lonely as it seemed to. She closed her eyes, remembering the kiss she and Akane had shared in her bed that morning, and her left foot involuntarily kicked off the floor and rose behind her backside as she set about wiping down the bar counter with a light blue rag.

It sucks that she hasn't been able to get back here to see me, Ranko thought, her brow furrowing as she set about scrubbing out the steel sink basin behind the service bar. I hope I didn't freak her out, and now she's just hiding from me. I guess her dad might have just been running her ragged with holiday stuff too. I wonder if they had a big party again this year. I wonder what she wore. I wonder if anybody there missed me. I wonder if Akane…

She sighed, shaking the intrusive thoughts from her head. Thinking that kinda stuff isn't gonna do me any good. Still, I wish I could at least call her. Just to hear her voice, and have her tell me I'm being stupid thinking stuff like this. But, if I call the house, her dad and Kasumi and Pop will know where I am, and… that's the freakin' last thing I need, them making shit weird when I'm finally feeling like I've got a good thing going here.

Ranko had still not told any of the bar staff about the kiss she and Akane had shared, but from the incessant teasing, she knew that both Yui and Ayako at least expected as much. Hell, I think Aya thinks we're doing a lot more than kissing, based on her reaction when I freaked out that mall Santa, she mused with a devious smirk in the dark. But, I mean, she said, "Ask for something impossible that you really want." Not my fault if Father Christmas hasn't been asked to make a teenager start liking girls before. If you're so magic, figure that shit out, buddy.

Ranko grinned as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall behind the service bar. She wore a burnt orange cable-knit sweater and a long blue denim skirt, her hair dangling over her shoulder in a loose ponytail. The skirt had been a Christmas gift from Mei, and the sweater one from Hana. She had definitely received far more gifts than she had given, but she suspected her new family had used the holiday as an excuse to help her expand her wardrobe and fill in some of the missing sundries in her little upstairs apartment without bruising her pride.

Her morning tasks done, Ranko pushed through the slatted blue door leading into the back rooms of the Phoenix with a spring in her step. She glanced into her adoptive mother's office through the open door, beaming at the framed painting of a phoenix alighting from its perch. Aya was right, it looks better over the couch, she thought. She winced slightly at the sight of a pile of opened envelopes on the corner of Hana's cluttered desk. Crap. Forgot to go get the mail.

Reaching the prep counter island, she tentatively touched the back of her hand to the Styrofoam to-go cup she'd left on the steel work surface. Finding that it had cooled enough to be only lukewarm, she picked up the cup and took a sip of her tea.
After walking back through the front room of the bar, she pushed through the glass double doors and stepped outside. Brrr! Shoulda got my coat. It's fucking cold out here! Ranko lifted the flap of the cast iron mailbox mounted to the red brick wall next to the front door, slipping her slender hand in and extracting a pile of mail. There was the usual stack of ads and a few envelopes - thankfully none stamped with the telltale red ink indicating they were past due bills.

Slipping back through the front door of the bar, Ranko flipped through the envelopes as she walked back to the service bar. She reached under it, pulling out the steel trash can stowed under the counter. Let's see. Junk. She tossed a promotional flyer for a pest control company in the wastebasket atop a few bruised lemons she'd rejected during morning prep. Junk. Bill. Junk. Junk. Junk. Bill. Bi… wait, what the…?

The second-to-last envelope had caught her eye, because it was addressed to her. She didn't recognize the return address.

Who the heck would send mail to me here? Who even knows I'm here? Collecting a paring knife from the aluminum tray behind the main bar, she slit the envelope open, dumping its contents onto the wooden bartop. There was a sheet of paper with some sort of rigid card folded inside. She carefully unfolded the paper, and as she caught a glimpse of the card within, her breath caught in her throat.

Stuck to the center of the paper with a little glue dot was a provisional Tokyo Metropolis government identification card featuring her photograph, wearing the blue blazer and ivory blouse she'd borrowed from Izumi the day Hana took her to the library. It listed her address as that of the bar, and the correct birthdate - November 25, 1971 - but that was of little consequence. The card listed her name as Ranko Tendo, and her sex as female.

Her legs buckled.

For several long moments, she remained on her knees behind the bar counter, staring at the little card and trying to wrap her mind around how earth-shatteringly significant the little piece of plastic truly was.

I'm… a woman. Legally. Officially. My name is Ranko Tendo. I… live here. She looked around at her surroundings, though she could see little but the ceiling and the edges of the counter from her knees. It's… it's not a lie anymore. It's not an act. It's just… me.

I don't have to feel like a fraud or a pervert if I use my name or wear a dress. I'm a girl. A real one.

Ranma Saotome is dead, she thought with a grin as she glanced down at the silver dragon coiled around her left wrist, concealing the scar left by her masculine form's mortal wound. For good.

My name is Ranko Tendo. I have a home. I have a family.

I am wanted. I have worth. I have people who care about me.

I exist.

She rocked back on the balls of her feet and propelled herself up to a standing position. Leaving the knife and the empty envelope sitting on the counter, she darted through the saloon door, her puffy white boots making nearly no sound as she hurried to the stairwell. Ranko ran upstairs to fetch her little purse, slipping the card into a small credit card pocket inside and closing the bag securely. She clutched the bag to herself with an exhilarated smile, squeezing it tight against her chest. Now, it's safe, she thought. Now, I'm safe.

Ever since she'd abandoned her former identity, she had felt, for all intents and purposes, like a ghost. A non-person. Every time she so much as introduced herself to someone or was announced as she came on stage, she was adopting a persona, putting on a mask to hide the fact that the person underneath it no longer existed. She'd been constantly forced to dredge up the whole story, remember all the pain and hardship, and weave another layer into the incredibly elaborate falsehood that was her life. She felt a pang of guilt and shame every time someone addressed her by name. But now? No guilt. No questions. No stares. No pity. Just normalcy.

Now, it was real. She was just a girl. Less than four months prior, the thought had been enough to drive her to the brink of self-harm. But, at that moment, Ranko couldn't have wished for anything else. Ranko Tendo was no longer the stage name she used in the constant performance she'd been living for months. Now, it was just… her. An identity of her own making.

And no one can ever take it from me, she thought with a victorious grin as she flopped onto her as-yet-unmade twin bed with a happy sigh.

Ranko laid on her bed for a moment, allowing herself to daydream. I'm a Tendo. Just like Akane. I mean, it's gonna be weird when I introduce people to my girlfriend and she has the same last name as me, but Tendo's a fairly common name, so it should be okay. I mean, it's not like me and her can ever get married or anything, since we're both girls, but… She kicked her feet in excitement, her fur-lined ankles still dangling off the edge of her mattress. I'm so glad I panicked and picked that name when Hana asked me. It's like a promise I made to Akane, that I wanna be a part of her life. Now, it'll feel like me and Akane are… She giggled at the thought.

I've gotta get out of here and do something, she thought excitedly. Show somebody. Mama and the girls will never know what a big deal this is for me; to them, they think I just lost my identification card when my purse got stolen or something. I don't give a damn if it's buying a subway pass, or a sub sandwich, for that matter. I just want an excuse to give somebody, anybody, my name and not feel like it's something I stole.

Ranko bounced to her feet, looking herself over in the full-length mirror mounted to the back of her open closet door. Looks like a girl to me, she resolved with a million-watt smile as she shot her reflection a knowing wink and scooped her purse back up off of the bed. She ran down the steps, strapping her bag across her body and slipping her white peacoat on as she descended.

Better not make anybody worry, she thought, ducking behind the service bar for one of the yellow notepads she used to record drink orders. On it, she scribbled a note in hurried, informal script:

Went out for a bit. Back in time for opening.

The teen hesitated, a grin cracking her cheeks again as she eyed the somewhat sloppy note. Picking the ballpoint pen up again, she finished the note in slower, deliberate strokes, putting more effort into making her penmanship look as neat and feminine as possible.

Love, Ranko ♡

Leaving the pad on the end of the bar counter where Yui normally dropped her purse upon arrival to work, she slipped out between the glass double doors. Her smile widened even more as she locked the doors behind her with her key. Of course I have a key. It's my home. Even the government says so. Shouldering her purse again after returning her key ring to it, she practically skipped her way onto the sidewalk before choosing a direction at random and starting to walk.

A few blocks to the east of the Phoenix, she found a little coffee cart near the harbor. The line wasn't too long, and the smell emanating from it was warm and welcoming. Ranko rarely shopped there - the prices were a bit high for her usual budget. It's a special occasion, she thought. She strode confidently up to the counter, and after the elderly woman in front of her had finished requesting a green tea, Ranko placed an order for a small cappuccino.

Four minutes later, when the barista called out, "Order for Ranko!" she rocketed to her feet from a weathered wooden bench overlooking the water and waved enthusiastically. "That's ME!"

And, for the first time, it really was.

She strolled down the street, back in the direction of the bar, letting the hot liquid in the Styrofoam cup in her hand cool for a few minutes before daring to sip at it. Can't get too crazy, she thought. I might be Ranko forever, but the Cat's Tongue is still definitely a thing. And besides…

The teenager chuckled to herself, thinking back to the fateful event that had begun her journey into womanhood, years ago. In her mind, Ranko inverted the circumstances that had changed her life, almost hearing it in the heavy Chinese accent of the guide assigned to the Cursed Spring of Jusenkyo. You have a very tragic curse. Hot water will turn you into a boy. Don't worry, though! Cold water will change you right back! Now, the shapely redheaded girl with the singing voice everybody loved? That Akane thought was cute? That had a mother and four sisters who loved her? That was her true form. Even the government of Tokyo said so, and the proof was in her purse.

She scanned the businesses on the street as she walked, looking for any further opportunity to introduce herself. Discount store? No, nobody there would ask for my name. Hardware store? Ranko paused for a moment, shaking her head and continuing to walk. I mean, Goji in there knows my name, but… I dunno. I don't like the way he looks at me when I go in there by myself. Gives me the mad Kuno vibes.

Ranko chuckled as her eyes fell on the dojo she'd fought at on the day she met Hana. The day her life as she knew it truly began. Man, good thing that guy kicked my ass and made me look for a different job, she thought with a quiet scoff. Most grateful I've ever been for a black eye. Well, maybe second-most, after the first time Akane met me and clobbered me with her dad's dining room table.

She thought back to Sensei Fukui's mocking dismissal, after the Cat's Tongue had brought her to her knees. The brutish martial arts master had suggested she join his intermediate girls' class, and for a split second, she considered doing it, just so she could write her true name on the application form.

I still can't believe that clown beat me, she fumed as she passed the frosted glass storefront of the kempo dojo. I mean, I wasn't exactly at my best, I guess. Hadn't slept or eaten worth a damn in nearly a week. Still, though. Before the Cat's Tongue, I'd have eaten that dude for breakfast. Ranko shook her head as she recalled the encounter. What a fucking idiot. All I wanted was a job, and that dipshit thought I was challenging his fucking dojo.

She cringed, remembering all the sensei's young students laughing at her as she retreated. It felt just like the match with… Ranko shook her head hard, as if trying to forcibly eject the intrusive thoughts from her mind. She looked down at her reflection in the glass of a newspaper vending machine, taking a moment to mentally steady herself. Nice try, Mikado. Not even you can fuck up this day for me. Not today.

Ranko took a few more steps, wondering if the nail salon next door to the dojo would ask for her name if she walked in. I mean, I guess I could use a fresh paint job, she mused, glancing down at her fingernails. The glitter stuff Izzi used for Christmas didn't hold up as well as the professional shit they used at the mall. Oh, what the hell. I get paid on Friday, and I can eat bar food for a couple days until then.

Her hand was still on the door handle, and the smell of the acetone on the air in the little beauty parlor had only just begun accosting her nostrils, when Ranko froze suddenly. Her jaw fell slack, a thunderstruck expression in her ice-blue eyes. Oh my fucking gods! That… that's it! Well, part of it, anyway! She gasped and turned, tossing away her half-full beverage in the tiny trash can just inside the door of the salon.

"Hey, wait! Come back! We're having a sale!" a middle-aged stylist called after her, but Ranko was already halfway across the street before the woman's words reached her ears.

She rushed down the sidewalk, her hands shaking as she fumbled in her bag for her keys at the front door of the Phoenix. How the fuck didn't I think of it before?! Stupid, Ranko! Stupid! Crashing through the pair of doors, the young redhead tossed her purse on the small wooden podium that served as the bar's hostess stand. Her mind raced as she began pacing circles in the empty barroom as fast as her legs would carry her.

Holy fucking shit. If we can do this, Ranko thought hopefully, maybe me and Akane can be together after all! Well, it's one problem down out of about a thousand, anyway, but it's a start!

Again, her eyes fell on her reflection in the mirror behind the service bar. She sighed, willing her heart to stop pounding as she pulled the white elastic from her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair. She clenched her hands into fists, pulling her hair with a groan until the tension on her ever-sensitive scalp became too much to bear.

"Come on, now, think, Ranko!" she mumbled as she frantically searched her own eyes for answers in the mirror.

"How in the actual fuck are we gonna pull this one off?!"

 

[AnneOminous]

A few moments ago, I made an announcement about the release schedule of Phoenix Reignited and Phoenix Odyssey going forward. TL;DR: I'm doing my absolute best, but life is kicking my ass, and I'm gonna miss chapter drops now and again while I figure it out. I promise I will continue to work on Phoenix every day, and I'll keep content coming just as fast as I can while holding myself together with duct tape and chewing gum.

But in the meantime, here's the long awaited reignition of one of my favorite chapters in the original Phoenix story. It felt so good to give it a much-deserved glow-up. I hope you enjoyed!

 

[AnneOminous]

Ranko sat alone on the Tokyo commuter train, her leg bouncing on the floor with nervous energy. The rhythmic clattering of the train on the tracks rattled in her ears like a ticking clock counting down to some dark fate. Everyone had told her not to stress about the events of the day, but she couldn't help it.

So much is riding on this. If I screw it up, I'll embarrass Mama. I'll… hell, I don't know what the heck she's gonna make me do even if it goes well. But, I gotta do my best. Somehow.

A shrill series of tones pierced her thoughts, followed by a robotic, monotone voice. "Arriving, Hiro-o Station."

The commuter train hissed to a stop, and the redhead stood, picking up her white peacoat from the seat next to hers and slipping it on over her blue tee shirt. She'd paired it with her black jeans and black heeled boots. It was unseasonably warm that Friday afternoon, and Ranko was glad of it; after the frigid December, she thought it might take until May to get the chill out of her bones. Part of her had wanted to dress up for the occasion, to make as good an impression as possible and hopefully balance out the disdain she expected to receive as soon as she walked in the door. Ultimately, she'd decided that if she was going to go into battle, she needed a little bit of armor, and fidgeting with her uncomfortable clothing would only have made things worse.

Slipping the strap of her black leather purse over her torso and stepping off of the train onto the platform, Ranko looked around with a resigned sigh. The thick heels of her boots made a metallic rattling sound as she strode across the steel grating of the station floor, the noise giving way to a rhythmic clacking when she stepped outside the station and onto the sidewalk. Ranko winced, shielding her eyes as she emerged from the subterranean transport hub into the mid-afternoon sun. Man, I gotta get some shades, she thought as she blinked the sunspots from her eyes. She remembered the heart-shaped pink sunglasses she had back in her little studio apartment, though she'd never thought to wear them other than onstage. I mean, I guess they're cute, the redhead mused as she scanned her surroundings to get her bearings.

Her foot tapped the asphalt with nervous energy as she waited for the signal to enter the crosswalk. When the light indicated it was safe to cross, she scurried across the busy street and into a wide expanse of grass. It was one of the largest green spaces in the Minato district, and there was a peaceful air about it that permeated Ranko's anxiety, if only a little. She hummed to herself as she rounded one of the winding bridge trails that made their way across Imperial Pond, smirking to herself as she spied a brilliant blue kingfisher perched on one of the bamboo poles jutting upward from the surface of the murky water. In another life, another day, I'd have jumped across those just to prove I could, she thought with a chuckle and a shake of her head. And today, I'm just worried it would mess up my hair if I fell in. I guess a lot of things are different than they used to be these days.

Ranko smiled, watching a young couple playing fetch with a small, shaggy dog in a clearing as she passed along a path of weather-worn red cobblestone. I should've come here more often when I was homeless. There's a serenity about this place I could have used back then. Indeed, her heart rate felt almost normal for the first time all day. Checking a pillar-shaped signpost to confirm she was heading the right way, she took the left path at a fork and continued her stroll through the park. A quick glance at a wrought-iron clock on a tall black pole informed her that she needed to pick up the pace, however. Last thing I need is to be late because I stopped to smell the flowers.

The nervous teen emerged from the treeline into a large clearing at the back of the park, making her way toward the white five-story building nestled into it. She passed between two white, square columns, pausing for a moment to steel her nerves before stepping close enough to the glass double doors to trigger the motion sensor that slid them open and admitted her. Inhaling sharply through her teeth, Ranko winced at the echoing sound her heels made on the white tile floor in the cavernous, and eerily quiet, main room. Several people turned in their study cubicles to look at her, and she blushed awkwardly at the realization that she was being watched.

Her attention snapped forward again at the sound of the young man at the circular oak desk greeting her. "Hello, welcome to the Tokyo Metropolitan Library. How can we help you?" He looked up from the novel he was reading, taking a moment to remember he was supposed to smile despite his annoyance being interrupted during an action scene.

Ranko swallowed hard as she addressed the collegian in the white shirt and thin blue tie behind the desk. "Uh, hello. My name is Ranko Tendo, and I'm here for the high school equivalency placement exam?" She fumbled around in her little black bag, producing her new identification card and a slip of green paper indicating that she was registered for the test.

"Ah, of course. You want the second floor," he said, pointing with an open hand to the steel door behind him. "The exam is being administered in a study room just to the right of the elevator. It's room two-fourteen. Good luck!"

Ranko thanked the receptionist, waving as she made her way around the desk. Her face warmed a bit at the realization that his eyes were lingering on her backside as she walked to the left side of the lobby. She pressed the backlit button on the wall to summon the elevator, and by her estimation, it must have taken a week and a half for it to descend from the third floor and open its doors with a little ding. She stepped in, pressing the button for the second floor and leaning against the back wall of the metal cube as it ferried her to her destination.

When the elevator opened with another merry chime, Ranko immediately spied the open door of the study room. Several other people were milling into the room, all of them wearing similarly nervous expressions. Ranko was the youngest of them by at least fifteen years. She sighed, a sense of shame welling within her.

Look at all these people, losers like me who never managed to get through school. But, I guess I'm lucky; if Mama didn't push me to do this, I'd probably end up having to do it for some reason or other when I was way older. She allowed herself a soft smile. She's always lookin' out for me. 'Cause I'm her daughter, Ranko recalled, her grin widening at the memory of her first meeting at the library.

With a nervous wave to the proctor sitting at the large aluminum desk facing an array of smaller ones, Ranko slipped into the room. She slid her backside into one of the empty plastic chairs near the front of the room, behind a small pressboard desk on which rested a thick packet of paper and a green strip of cardstock lined with hundreds of little printed circles. Two sharpened pencils rested to the right of it. Whew. Okay, Ranko. Here we go. I can do this.

The severe-looking woman at the desk at the front of the room stood, adjusting her thick-rimmed glasses. "Okay, I think that's everyone, so I think we can get started. Would someone get the door, please?" She nodded her thanks as a middle-aged man in denim overalls stood and walked to the door to close it. "So, welcome. You will have two hours to complete the test. Remember to fill in the bubbles on your form completely and carefully with your answers, or the machine won't be able to read them properly. There's no penalty to your score for getting a question wrong, so if you're not sure of something, take your best guess. When you're finished, put your form in the slot here, and you can head out quietly, so as not to disrupt the others. Good luck." She pressed a button on the black box on the desk, and a series of red digits appeared on its face, ticking from 2:00:00 down to 1:59:59.

Ranko picked up a pencil, looking over the Scantron form. She found the blank for her name, carefully writing out the hiragana to spell out Ranko Tendo. She took her time with this; she was still quite proud that the name was truly hers, and she wanted it to look nice. Despite her best efforts however, the lines were uneven and shaky, and she cursed her terrible penmanship under her breath. I gotta work on that. Girls are supposed to have pretty handwriting. My chicken scratch is a dead giveaway that I used to be a dude.

She glanced up at the clock, seeing that two minutes had elapsed, and only her name was filled in. The nervous teen chuckled grimly to herself. Hey, at least I know I got one question right, and that one would've been wrong until last week, too. So, progress, I guess? Ranko used the end of her pencil to break the sticker sealing the test packet and opened it, tucking a stray strand of flame-red hair behind her ear. Okay, Ranko, let's do this, she thought to herself with a heavy sigh of determination.

The first section of the test focused on basic arithmetic, and Ranko flew through it with ease, filling in the little circles on her form quickly. If the whole test is this easy, all my worries were for nothing, she thought with a confident snicker. By the time she reached the fourth page, however, most of the numbers in the math problems had been replaced with romaji letters and Greek symbols. Weeeeeell, shit. So much for that. She closed her eyes, straining to remember the few times Akane had tried to help with her algebra homework. Bouncing her toes nervously on the floor, she worked the problems as best she could and bubbled in answers on her sheet, but she was far less confident in her responses.

Furrowing her brow, Ranko held her breath as she turned the page, hoping to move on to history or language arts. Instead, the spread of pages was covered with pictures of triangles and parabolas on graphs, and something about limits and derivatives, whatever those were. To the bewildered teenager, the problems might as well have been written in cuneiform. She stared at the graphs in horror for several long moments before stealing a glance up at the clock. Almost thirty minutes had elapsed, and there were still dozens of pages to go in her test packet. She had no idea where to even begin with the geometry and calculus problems, so she bubbled in the third answer for all fifteen questions. Maybe I'll get lucky on a few of them, she hoped.

Turning the page, she was relieved to find questions that were written in words she actually understood. The history section began much as the math section did, with questions she considered fairly easy. What cities the Americans bombed in World War II, the Meiji period and the fall of the daimyos, what year Emperor Hirohito took power, no problem! Then the questions began to delve into the details of the Manchurian incident, the Battle of Namdaemun, and the Yoshida Doctrine, and again she found herself lost and filling in random bubbles on her sheet.

The Japanese language section wasn't too challenging for her; there were a few kanji she didn't recognize, but otherwise, she felt confident in most of her answers and she breezed through it in a matter of a few minutes. Tapping her pencil eraser on the desktop, she looked up to check the clock. One hour to go. Thumbing through the corners of the pages to count the remaining pages of her test packet, Ranko emitted a small sigh of relief. Doing okay, I think.

She turned to the next page, and found herself staring at the start of the English section. Well, fuck. This is what landed me here in the first place. She grimaced, remembered the trio of Americans that had been so rude to her in the bar that night, and glowered at the page. No way you jerks are gonna beat me, she thought to herself as she readied her pencil. I'm gonna figure this shit out, and then assholes like you aren't ever gonna get to laugh at me again. With all the confidence of ignorance, she dove into the questions. She actually felt comfortable with some of the vocabulary, but the sentence structure and more advanced words eluded her. In fairness, they tend not to teach words like tequila in high school English class anyway, she thought with a smirk.

With twenty minutes to go, she delved into the final section of the test: science. The first few questions dealt with biology subjects, and of the questions she could answer, nearly all of the requisite knowledge had come primarily from her martial arts training. She cringed when a question asked her the number of bones in the human body, remembering that she quoted the figure to Mikado before beating him half to death behind the Phoenix just before Christmas. On the next page, she was prompted for the chemical symbols for several elements on the periodic table, the formula for water, and so forth.

She turned to the last page and groaned. The fuck?! More math?! This isn't fair! The differential equations of the chemistry section, and the laws and theorems of the physics portion, loomed up at her from the page. Ranko scratched her temple with the eraser end of her pencil as she read a question asking her to calculate the volume of a mole of hydrogen. Huh. I thought all animals were carbon-based, even moles. Whatever. Science is for nerds, she thought. Mei would probably be fine. The next problem described a ball being thrown out of a fifth-story window, and asked how long it would fall. Ranko was grateful the question was multiple-choice, because she likely would have written "until it hits the ground" otherwise.

Ranko checked the clock again as she closed the test packet. Four minutes to spare. Holy fuck. She sighed, looking over the little graphite dots all over her paper. I could try to go back over my answers, I guess, but let's be real: it ain't gonna get any better, and I'm just gonna second-guess shit. With a quiet sigh of resignation, she stood, dropping the slip into the slot at the top of the dark-stained wooden box on the corner of the proctor's desk. She offered a slight bow to the exam proctor and exited the room, the clacking of her heels momentarily drawing the attention of the few remaining people still taking the test.

She quickly exited the library, taking a few deep breaths once she emerged into the open air of the park to try and calm herself. Whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen, I guess. There's no changing it now. However it goes, I'll deal with what comes next, and I'll have help if I need it.

The young redhead sighed, beginning her walk back through the park toward the train station. Her cheeks warmed at the sight of a blonde girl, maybe three years her junior, walking a dachshund on a leash in a high school pinafore in red and white. Could Mama… really try to make me go back to school? As a girl?! I mean, that's what made me haul ass from Akane's place in the first place! Would they even let me, or am I too old? Would I have to go to an all-girls' school, or am I gonna have to deal with… boys? She swallowed hard, looking down at her feet. I've got enough wandering eyes, and wandering hands, to deal with at work as it is.

Ranko watched the high schooler with the dog meet up with a tall boy with shaggy black hair, letting a thin smile crack her lips as he wrapped his arms around her. I wonder what Akane would think of me having to go back to school. Wearing a girl's uniform like that. Would she find it cute, or is she more likely to just laugh at me? Especially since next year, she'll be off to college, and I… won't.

She shook her head vigorously, trying to dislodge the intrusive thoughts from her mind as she emerged from the park onto the sidewalk. The light at the crosswalk was already illuminated, so Ranko quickened her step to make it before the cycle changed. No use worrying about it now. We'll figure it out when it happens, and besides… I have something more important to think about right now.

Ranko bounded down the stairs to enter the subway station, anticipation bringing a lightness to her heart and a smile to her lips. Let's see… which one to Shibuya… ah! She hurried through the crowd of commuters, only stopping at the sight of a young boy sitting on a wooden bench with a white bucket at his feet. Digging quickly in her purse, she produced a few hundred yen in small bills for the boy. A few moments later, she boarded the train for the shopping district, beaming down at the single long-stemmed white rose in her hand.

I'm finally gonna get to see Akane tonight, she thought, grinning wide as her nostrils filled with the sweet scent of the flower she clutched to her chest.

I have to look fucking perfect.

 

[AnneOminous]

Akane grabbed the brass handle, pulling open the heavy glass front door of the Phoenix to the sound of thundering applause. Under her breath, she cursed her calculus teacher for holding her late after class and making her miss the first hour of Ranko's performance. She hadn't even taken the time to go home and change clothes, so she was still in her blue and white school uniform. Akane wished she'd thought to bring a change of clothes, as she worried that her Furinkan pinafore reminded Ranko too much of the life she'd left behind. She'd promised Ranko - by way of a message delivered via Nabiki the day before - that she'd be there, though, and keeping her word had been the most important thing. She didn't want her new girlfriend to think that she'd been stood up.

My girlfriend. Holy shit. I have a fucking girlfriend, Akane thought, her cheeks flushing hotter than the flaming Dragonfire cocktail Mei carried past her with a wave and a smile. The flustered high schooler was barely coherent enough to return the gesture. Does that mean I'm… gay? I mean, I don't like girls. Not like that. It's not like she and I have… Somehow, her face warmed further still. I don't think I could ever do that with a girl. I've never even done anything like that with a boy! Never really wanted to either, though. Wait, does that mean…? Shit.

She shook her head vigorously, almost launching her teal headband across the barroom. I don't like girls! I just really like that one! And, I mean, Ranko's definitely not like other girls. She's… special. She was a boy when I met her, and…

Akane swallowed hard as her mind filled with memories. No. No she wasn't. When she and her father came to the house that first time, she was a girl, and pretty much the first thing I did with her girl side was see her naked. And when I did… The high schooler leaned to her left, gripping the hostess podium while she waited for a path to clear to the bar. Whoa. Feeling a little lightheaded all of a sudden.

Man, Dad's gonna be so pissed, if he ever finds out about us. She snickered to herself as she started to push through the crowd. It's not like he has a right to be, though. You wanted me to end up with Ranma, right, Dad? Akane turned her eyes up to the new wooden stage that dominated the back wall of the Phoenix, her eyes drinking in the sight of its occupant captivating the Friday night capacity crowd with an energetic pop cover and the dance moves to match.

I'm doing exactly what you asked, Daddy, Akane resolved with a self-amused grin. I'm being a good girl. I'm just doing it… my way.

Ranko was wearing a baby pink ankle-length dress with short sleeves and a thin red vinyl belt, and her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail with a matching pink ribbon. Her ever-present silver dragon bracelet reflected the stage lighting as she danced. Whereas she had usually carried herself with a sort of quiet resignation at the thought of feminine attire in Akane's memories, that night, she seemed to revel in it. Every move of her hips and every kick of her legs seemed calculated to maximize the swish of the puffy tulle skirt around her body. She looked every bit the part of the babydoll idols in the popular girl groups, all the way down to the smile that was almost too radiant to be authentic.

Akane chuckled. Sheesh, Ranko. Call you cute one time, and look at you. I've been a girl my whole life, and I don't have anything half that frilly and girly in my closet. You always were one to take everything as a challenge and do it all the way, though, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. She finally made her way to the main bar counter, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the tall, lanky blonde behind it.

Yui gave her a welcoming wave and started pouring her a soda. "Hey there, Akane! Seems like you're becoming something of a regular here." She glanced up at the stage. "Can't imagine why." Snickering, Yui slid the Collins glass across the lacquered countertop to her sister's guest.

The teen blushed deeply, hiding her face behind her soda glass under the guise of drinking from it. "It's not like that!"

"Uh-huh," Yui replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes with a knowing smirk as she turned to a different spot at the bar to take another order.

Akane groaned, shouting after the bartender. "Hey! It's not!"

Behind the service bar, Izumi finished dropping a few glasses in the dishwasher and grinned deviously up at Akane. While maintaining eye contact with her, she spoke, but not to her. "Yui, did you see Ranko today?! I couldn't believe it! How many times have I tried to drag her shopping? She always comes up with some excuse why she doesn't wanna go. But, today, she just had to go out by herself and get a new dress special for tonight. Any idea what the occasion is?"

Almost on cue, Mei pushed through the saloon doors, her long blue pigtails bobbing out from under the large mushroom pizza she carried over her head. Even with the aluminum pan raised as high as she could reach, the diminutive server had to be careful not to hit any of her taller companions with it. "I mean, Ranko's working tonight, so she couldn't possibly have a date…" She flashed Akane a devilish wink from under the pizza pan.

Akane's face was warm enough to light a campfire. How do they all know? Did Ranko tell them? She said she wasn't gonna! She looked around the room, frantically searching for help she did not find. "Aww, come on, you guys! Ummm…"

Yui smiled, taking Akane's poorly-concealed nervous reaction as confirmation. "For whatever it's worth, you have our blessing, not that you needed it. Or, seemingly, waited for it."

Mei nodded along with her sister. "Just don't hurt her. Ranko's been through too much already, and I suspect we don't know the half of it."

On that point, Akane could not argue. She stammered, looking to the three girls for some sort of clue as to how they all knew what she and Ranko had agreed to keep secret.

Seeming to sense the question in her mind, Izumi walked up behind her from the direction of the service bar and put her arm around Akane's shoulders. "Don't worry. She didn't spill the beans. Not directly, anyway." She glanced over at her fellow waitress with a smile. Ranko had descended from the stage and was taking an order at a six-top table near the back of the bar. "But she's been walking on clouds since the last time you were here. It didn't exactly take a rocket surgeon to figure it out."

Akane blushed deeper still - somehow - but smiled happily. They all know she's with another girl… and they're okay with it? Hell, they seem to be reacting to it better than most people did when they found out I was engaged to a guy. But, more importantly, she hoped that Izumi was right, and that the idea of being with Akane was at least part of what was making Ranko so happy.

After a few more moments of light-hearted ribbing from the trio, Akane heard a familiar voice over her shoulder.

"Hey, Mei, can I get a basket of chicken wings for table eigh…" The redheaded waitress blinked as she rounded a bulky man seated at the bar and caught sight of her partner. "A- Akane! You made it!"

Akane spun around with a beaming smile. "Hey, you! Sorry I was late! I got held up at school."

The redhead shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad you're here! Yui, do you mind if I…"

The bartender rolled her eyes with mock indignation, but smiled. "Alright, alright, but only 'cause you've been singing your ass off for an hour. Go on, go take a break. We got this."

Waving her thanks, Ranko pushed through the saloon door into the back room, Akane in tow. The pair excitedly headed up the stairs to Ranko's little apartment. Ranko closed the door behind them, and as soon as she turned her back to it, Akane's arms were around her.

Akane could feel the smaller girl relax her muscles and melt into the embrace, as if Ranko had been holding her breath waiting for the hug for far too long. "Look at you!" Akane smiled. "You look like a freaking princess!"

Ranko blushed a shade as red as her vinyl belt. "Do you like it?" She said she wanted me to be cute. I'm so glad I didn't disappoint her. I've disappointed her so much already, and I don't know how many more chances I'm gonna get. I mean, she's not acting like she's holding any of the old stuff against me, but I'm not in a hurry to find out if she is. Especially not when things are going so good.


While running the backs of her fingers gently over Ranko's cheek, Akane bobbed her head in confirmation. "I do! Was all this for me?"

Ranko nodded, panic washing over her face. She wasn't sure if the shudder running down the whole of her body was a physical response to Akane's whisper-soft touch on her ever-sensitive skin, or just her nerves. "Is it too much? It is, isn't it? Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't know how to…"

Akane leaned forward, silencing her stammering girlfriend with a quick peck on her lips. "It's not too much. It's perfect. You don't have to be so nervous, ya know."

Again, the redhead nodded meekly. "I know, and… I'm trying. I just…"

Offering the trepidatious teen a reassuring smile, Akane sat gently on the foot of the immaculately-made bed. "You just, what? Talk to me, Ranko."

The redhead walked closer to the bed, standing in front of Akane and reaching down for both of the taller girl's hands with both of her own. "I don't know how to be anybody's girlfriend. Like, I know what guys like - not that I'm trying to get guys to like me or nothin' - but you're not a guy. And I just… I feel like I'm getting a second chance with you that I didn't especially deserve, and I don't want to mess it up. You're taking a huge chance on me, and I don't ever wanna do anything to make you regret it."

Akane chuckled, rolling her eyes with an amused grin. "Is that what this is about?" Receiving a sheepish nod in reply, Akane squeezed the smaller girl's hands tightly. "You don't have to impress me. All I ever expect you to be is yourself, even if you're still figuring out who that is, with everything being so… different… for you now. I really hope you know that."

Ranko blushed, the nervousness in her face shrinking to make way for an excited smile. "Speaking of being myself…" She squeezed Akane's hands once, wordlessly asking Akane to let them go. Once her hands were freed, Ranko flitted over to the dinette table, a skip in her step.

What the heck got into her all of a sudden? Akane covered her mouth with her hand, but failed to stifle her giggles at the way Ranko moved in the puffy pink dress. She looks like a ballerina had way too much coffee.

Having retrieved her black leather purse from the dinette table, Ranko hurried back to the bed and plopped down on the edge of the mattress next to Akane. The tulle of her skirt made a quiet crunch sound as it settled around her legs. After fumbling with the rose-shaped clasp for a moment, Ranko opened the bag and produced her new identification card from one of the thin organizer slots. She stuffed it into Akane's hands, bouncing on the mattress with glee. "Look! Look! It's official!"

Akane looked it over, taking a moment to absorb what she was seeing. The finality of the Ranma she once knew being gone forever hadn't fully hit home with her, and a part of her felt like she was looking at his death certificate. Wow. She's really going through with this. With a quiet sigh, Akane shook the momentary pang of grief from her mind. There's no reason to be sad. Everything I liked about Ranma is still here, and so much of the stuff I didn't like has been replaced with things I like. With things I really like. Besides, even if it's hard for me, I can't let her see it. She's worked hard for this, and she deserves her moment to celebrate it.

"Look at that!" Akane put on a wide smile, rolling her eyes mockingly. "Of freakin' course you managed to get a cute ID photo. Nobody gets those. You lucky little shit."

The ebullient redhead giggled, shrugging her shoulders. "Hey, don't look at me. I had almost nothin' to do with it. Izzi picked the outfit and everything. All I did was sit there and smile pretty." Ranko winced slightly at the sight of herself in the blue blazer and ivory blouse, recalling that the photo had been taken the day she'd signed up for the placement exam she'd sat for earlier that afternoon. I still can't believe I had to do that, and Mama might be trying to make me go back to school. I'm embarrassed it's even a conversation. And honestly, I'm pretty sure I bombed it and I'm gonna end up in primary school next to fuckin' Hoshi. Her blue eyes met Akane's brown, and the intrusive thoughts faded from her mind. Tonight, I don't care, she resolved. That's Future Ranko's problem.

"Yeah, well, you got the pretty part nailed," Akane said, grinning at the way her girlfriend's cheeks reddened at her words. Tilting the card to better catch the light from the little lamp on Ranko's nightstand, Akane looked it over some more. "So… Miss Tendo, huh?"

Akane did not think she'd ever seen a smile as big as the one that formed on Ranko's face as the smaller girl nodded hard enough to jostle her beribboned ponytail over her shoulder. Giggling, Akane handed the card back to Ranko, her hand lingering for a moment atop Ranko's with the card between their palms. "But I haven't even proposed."

Ranko's face turned an even brighter shade of crimson. Oh, gods! Proposing? But we're both girls! We couldn't possibly! It's not even legal! Besides… if she were the one that proposed, would that make me the… the… bride?! She rocked back on the bed, her mind flooding with memories of Izumi warning her about one day shopping for wedding dresses. I couldn't! No way! That's… like, I'm a girl now, but that's a whole-ass 'nother level! I'd fuckin' never pull that shit off!

Sighing, she looked down at Akane's hand laying atop hers. Even with the card between their hands, Ranko could feel the warmth of Akane's palm in her own. The Cat's Tongue amplified every nerve - every cold breeze, every rough texture - but something about Akane's touch stimulated it in a way nothing else ever had. It felt as if every cell of her skin were somehow reaching out to Akane, wordlessly pleading for more of her touch wherever it could be had.

But if she ever asked me, Ranko thought, I'd like to think I'd find a way to try anyway.

"I'm really happy for you, Ran-chan… Ranko." Akane gave the redhead's hand another gentle squeeze. She's gone to a lot of trouble to earn this new identity she's made for herself. The least I can do is give her the respect of saying her name out loud. I bet it'll feel good to her. The bright grin and the glistening eyes of the girl sitting on the bed next to Akane told her that she had guessed correctly.

Ranko turned to look behind her, craning her neck in the direction of the little digital alarm clock on her nightstand. "I should get back down there. Remember, the other girls don't know about… us."

Akane smirked, scoffing quietly. "Uhhhh… I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Frowning, Ranko groaned quietly. "What? How?! I didn't tell them, I swear! How would they…"

Akane reached out, fluffing the skirt of her girlfriend's pink dress for emphasis. "I think they might have caught on from the way you're behaving, especially around me. It's a good thing you're a better singer than you are an actress."

Ranko looked down at her lap, a slow, disappointed sigh escaping her lips. "I'm really sorry, Akane. I didn't mean to…" She blinked, her voice trailing off as Akane slipped two fingers under her chin and used them to lift her head up until the two young women made eye contact.

"Don't you dare apologize to me for being happy we're together." Akane's face formed into a gentle, easy smile, her eyes sparkling with contentment. "I'm glad that you're as proud to be my girlfriend as I am to be yours."

---

The remainder of the night's service - and Ranko's several subsequent performances - had flown by fairly quickly. Akane set herself up at the small four-top round table in the alcove closest to the stage - the one Yui had taken to calling the VIP table - and Ranko made a point to visit her every chance she could between songs and running food and beverages to her other tables. Hana had graciously offered to comp anything Akane wanted to eat or drink, which Ranko greatly appreciated. Asking her girlfriend for money at the end of the night would have been awkward for her.

Akane smiled softly, swaying along with Ranko's final performance of the evening. Last call had been announced, and people were beginning to pay their tabs and filter out of the bar, but the raven-haired teen in the teal Furinkan pinafore was still fixated on the stage. I don't think she's done a single song tonight that wasn't a love ballad. I wonder if that was for me? Nah. Probably just a coincidence. She raised her eyes from the swishing dress around Ranko's hips to look deeply into her eyes, and what she saw there warmed her soul. Or… maybe not?

When the last customer had departed, Ranko swung by Akane's table, leaning over her shoulder with a gentle touch on Akane's forearm. "Hey, I just need to help them with cleanup for a bit and then we can go hang out. I promise, I'll hurry."

She turned to return to the service bar, but before she could take a step, Izumi waved her off. "We can handle it, Ran-chan. You two go ahead. Good night, Akane. Have fun." She giggled, flitting away to refill another soy sauce bottle.

Ranko blushed at her sister's sing-song tone. It's one thing that they figured out we're… together, whatever that means, but they don't gotta make it sound like we're doing… well, shit we're not! I don't even know how two girls would do that without a… She buried her face in her hand, feeling the warmth of her cheeks radiating into the skin of her palm. I guess if I ever really wanna know, I can ask Yui. If nothing else, it'd be hilarious to see the look on her face when her baby sister asks her to explain how gay girls fuck.

Akane took Ranko's other hand, pulling her out of her amused, and embarrassed, daze. "C'mon, you. Let's get out of here before they change their minds." Ranko smiled in response, and the pair hurried through the blue slatted door and up the stairs to Ranko's studio apartment. They flopped down on the bed next to each other, giggling together.

Rolling onto her side to face Ranko, Akane began idly playing with the pink ribbon adorning Ranko's ponytail. "I can't believe how freaking cute you are. It's not even fair!"

The redhead blushed. "You aren't so bad yourself, you know."

Akane scoffed, letting her jaw fall slack in mock offense. "Not bad, huh? Not bad?!"

Turning onto her side, Ranko flashed her arm toward Akane at lightning speed, finding purchase on her ribs and tickling her through the coarse fabric of her school pinafore.

The larger girl writhed under the assault, kicking her legs in the air involuntarily. "Hey! Stop that!"

Ranko shook her head defiantly, unrelenting in her teasing. "No way. You want me to stop, you're gonna have to stop me." She moved her hands to yet another spot, and another, never slowing for a moment.

Akane flailed to block Ranko's fingers, but the redhead was simply too quick. She flopped limply to the mattress on her back. "Okay! Okay! Mercy! Mercy!"

"Nope. You can't stop me!" Ranko rose to her knees, driving her hands down at Akane's ribs again and again. There was an impish mocking in her tone. "You'll never be fast enough!"

"Oh?! You don't think so? I'll show you!" Akane's voice took on an air of determination, and her hands swung back into motion, swatting at Ranko's wrists as best she could.

Ranko grinned victoriously. There it is. There's the competitive spirit I was counting on. Come on, Akane. That's it! Fight back!

Akane flung her arms this way and that, blocking about half of Ranko's attempts to reach her torso with her pinching fingernails. It seemed that the faster she blocked, the faster Ranko's hands moved. She gasped for every breath, laughter purging the air from her lungs as quickly as it could enter them.

Ranko pinched at her partner's bare feet, giving chase as Akane tried to retract them under her skirt. "I thought you were gonna stop me! You aren't giving up, are ya, Akane?!" She had a devilish simper about her. Come on, Akane, take the bait, she thought to herself. I've got one chance to make this work.

Akane's face became one of combative resolve despite the smile still lingering on her lips. "Never!" Her adoring assailant's arms darted this way and that, and Akane desperately flailed her hands to keep up. If she wanted to breathe, she had to block. Whatever had gotten into Ranko, she wasn't letting up.

Faster and faster Ranko moved, and faster and faster Akane fought to counter. She reached a point where her hands seemed to decouple from her conscious mind; they moved almost instinctively, sparing the delay between thought and action. She blocked one pinch, then another, then another. Five in a row. Then ten in a row, then twenty. She only focused on her intent; her body did the rest almost entirely on its own.

After what felt like an hour but was closer in reality to ten minutes, Ranko finally fell on her back on the bed, breathing heavily. Akane rose to her knees, looking down at the redhead and beaming with triumphant accomplishment. "Ha! I told you I could do it!"

From her back, the exhausted martial artist grinned ecstatically up at her partner, giggling along with her. "You sure did! You got me." You did it, Akane! Holy shit! This might just have a chance to work!

Akane reached forward quickly, taking each of Ranko's wrists in her hands and gently pinning them to the mattress on either side of her body with locked elbows. "No, now I've got you!" She bent down with a mockingly sinister laugh, planting a soft kiss on the lips of the entrapped redhead as she felt Ranko's body tense beneath her own.

The giggling stopped, and Ranko made no effort to respond to the kiss in any way. It was like she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. Akane pulled back, releasing her quarry's wrists and surveying her face. There was a terror in Ranko's unblinking eyes that Akane couldn't explain. "Ranko?! What's wrong?!" She reached down, rubbing Ranko's arm reassuringly. "Hey! What's the matter?!"

A few agonizing moments passed before the redhead finally blinked, looking around the room. "A… Akane?!" She bolted upright in the bed, wrapping her arms tight around Akane. She was shaking like a leaf.

"What's wrong?! Talk to me!" Akane held the quaking girl, bewilderment in her eyes. What the heck happened to her? I've only seen her lock up like this twice before. Both times, it was when she woke the whole house up screaming because she'd had a nightmare. Akane blinked in realization. And both nightmares were about Mikado Sanzenin grappling her and kissing her. She gasped, pulling Ranko's quivering form tighter to herself than ever. "Oh, gods, Ranko, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…"

Ranko did not respond in words, but Akane felt a tear that was not her own trickle down the side of her neck.

"Shh," Akane cooed quietly. "I've got you, girl. You're safe with me, I promise."

She lifted Ranko's head from her shoulder, holding it in both of her hands in front of her and staring directly into the terrified girl's soul through her teary blue eyes.

"You always will be."

 

[AnneOminous]

A few minutes late, but here's an extra-long Reignited chapter for ya!

The last few days have been quite the rollercoaster for me, and most of us in this community. But if there's anything I hope Phoenix has taught you all, it is that you are wanted, you have worth, and you have people who care about you.

Together, we will fight. And we will win. It will be slow, and it will be hard, but we will prevail. Period. We have something they don't: courage, honor, determination, and a just cause.

Wake brave, my lovelies. I love you all.