A pair of curses have conspired to leave 17-year-old Ranma trapped in a feminine body she never asked for, and too physically sensitive to take a hit. Both are big problems for a martial arts master who used to be an arrogant boy. With no way back to the life she knew, she flees the home of her abusive father and leaves her fiancée behind in search of a life she can call her own.
But, life on the streets of 1989 Tokyo isn't easy. After months alone and barely surviving, she stumbles hungry and broken into the Phoenix, a dive bar run by a hard-edged but kindly woman and the four hard-luck girls she took in out of the cold.
Make that five.
Ranma's new lease on life - as Ranko - gives her the chance to work through her trauma and experience the first unconditional love she's ever known. Empowered by the support of her new family, the partner she never expected to see again, and a newfound passion for music, Ranko begins to embrace her new identity as a young woman and rises from the ashes of the person she used to be.
Ranma sighed to herself, distantly fidgeting with the last few grains of rice in her bowl with a chopstick. Everyone else had long since left the breakfast table. She had been like this for weeks, living in a constant haze of hopelessness and dread. It felt like walking through quicksand every day, and all she'd have to do was hold still for just a minute and it would swallow her whole.
Five months. Five long months since "it" happened. Everyone in the Tendo household tried not to say it out loud, but despite their efforts, Ranma never let it out of her mind for a second. Stupid old ghoul thought she'd punish me and force me to marry Xian Pu, Ranma thought. Boy, did that plan backfire.
Ranma replayed it in her thoughts for what must have been the millionth time. All of it. The old witch sneaking up from behind, a little poke with her walking stick, and that was that. Xian Pu's grandmother had triggered the Full-Body Cat's Tongue pressure point. Ever since, every nerve in Ranma's body was turned up to maximum volume, and the slightest touch anywhere on Ranma's skin could cause unbelievable agony. She couldn't take a hit anymore – even a punch from a weakling like her father felt like a wrecking ball. Most days, she could barely concentrate on anything but the ever-present scratching of her clothes on her skin as she moved. Worst of all, the Cat's Tongue meant the sensation of temperature was amplified too, and that meant hot water was utterly intolerable on her skin.
Of course, the Full-Body Cat's Tongue wasn't Ranma's first curse. No, before that, there had been Jusenkyo - a little backwater training ground in northwestern China, in the Qinghai province. It was a little, hidden place with a huge secret: its many cursed springs. Each of the little pools of water had seen some manner of creature drown in it over the millennia. Upon falling into one of them, any unwitting victim would be doomed to take the form of the last being to drown in that particular spring whenever they got wet. Both Ranma and his father had been afflicted when they had gone there to practice aerial combat. In the case of Ranma's father, it was a giant panda, and in Ranma's… well, she saw the result every time she looked in the mirror and remembered the boy she used to be.
She would retake her natural form if splashed with warm water, but only until the next time she encountered cold or room-temperature liquid. Going back to being a guy sounded so easy - just a tea kettle away - and yet, the Full-Body Cat's Tongue made it entirely unbearable to consider. That was the true torture of the situation - knowing she could have her old body back any time she wanted it; all she would have to do is endure feeling as if every cell of her skin was being burned alive.
She'd tried. For days, she tried to force herself to suffer through it. It'll only hurt for a minute, she thought, but how wrong she was. Once, Ranma's father had held her down so she couldn't escape the kettle on reflex, and Mr. Tendo poured it over her head. She changed back into her original masculine form, but the searing agony of the warm liquid on her hypersensitive skin felt as if she were being boiled like a lobster.
After two minutes that felt like an eternity, Akane had burst into the bathroom and doused her fiance with a bucket of cold water, bringing an end to the burning sensation ravaging his skin, but also rendering Ranma's suffering meaningless as her girlish form returned. Akane knew that Ranma didn't want her to intervene, but she couldn't just stand outside the bathroom door and listen to him scream any longer.
Ranma, upon coming to terms with the fact that enduring the curse of Jusenkyo and the Full-Body Cat's Tongue combined was unbearable, eventually relented and accepted Koh Lon's terms, agreeing to train with her. The old witch had demanded that Ranma learn the powerful Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique to prove her worthiness to marry her granddaughter - regardless of the fact that Ranma had no interest in doing so. After weeks of practice, and countless hours of unspeakable pain, Ranma had finally mastered the art of punching at sufficient speed to snatch a chestnut from a flame without being burned. She just had to prove it.
Her mind flashed back to that mountain in the snow, Koh Lon balancing precariously on the end of her walking stick, dangling Ranma's salvation – a little pink vial holding the cure – over a small campfire. All Ranma had to do was snatch it from her hand, and everything would be back to, well, as close to normal as anything that had happened since her visit to the training grounds of Jusenkyo.
She cracked her knuckles. I can do this. I've trained for it, Ranma thought to herself, her steely gaze daring the licking flames to challenge her. This is going to hurt like hell, but only for a second.
With a determined kiai, Ranma began her assault. Utilizing the powerful technique she'd mastered, she snatched time and time again for her objective at superhuman speed, but Xian Pu's grandmother kept pace. Ranma winced as the heat of the fire prickled at her skin, but she had to try and put it out of her mind; the end was in sight. She was moving too fast to be burned, but the Full-Body Cat's Tongue's sensitivity made even the ambient warmth of the fire all but unbearable. Ranma swung wide with her right arm, forcing her adversary to lean closer to dodge. As Koh Lon drew closer, Ranma rocketed her left arm forward and felt her fingers strike porcelain. She clenched her fist and pulled back, breaking the thin chain that held the tiny ampule around the witch's wrist. All she had to do was swallow the Phoenix Pill within, and…
"Saotome!"
So focused was Ranma on her objective that she had failed to notice the slender man in the white robe ascending the slope to her left. In an instant, as she turned her eyes to the man screaming her name, a barrage of chains bearing blades, claws, and a wooden duck, for some reason, rained down toward her from the voluminous sleeves of her assailant's robes.
"I will not allow this! Xian Pu is mine!"
Ranma lifted her left arm instinctively to protect her face, and a sickle-shaped barb caught the underside of her wrist, slicing deeply into her flesh through her shirt. The nerves in her arm reacted with an involuntary spasm, causing - just for a moment - her fingers to unclench. Just for a microsecond. Just long enough to make her drop the Phoenix Pill into the fire. As the little pink vial popped open, Ranma watched in slow motion as her life as she knew it ended. The incineration was immediate. Not even the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique would have granted her the speed to save it.
Since then, she'd tried everything to find another way to reverse the Full-Body Cat's Tongue. She'd pleaded with Koh Lon for another pill, but she swore there were no more and the formula to produce them had been lost to the ages. Dr. Tofu had tried every pressure point and acupuncture technique he knew, but it had been no use. Akane's elder sister Nabiki, who'd just graduated from Furinkan High, took her to a college she was applying to in the Minato district to help her try and use something called the outer - no, inter - …web? Net? Anyway, it was supposed to be, you typed your question in the computer and it would find the answer. Turns out those science dweebs didn't know anything about ancient Amazon medicines, though. As a last-ditch attempt, she'd even asked Happosai for help. Her father's ancient martial arts master had admitted he had no idea how to reverse the effect of the pressure point, though not without first extracting a price Ranma paid in shame.
Suddenly, Ranma's haunting reminiscence was shattered by a familiar voice. "Ranma! I heard what happened! I came the minute I heard!"
It was months ago, asshole. She looked up from the dining room table into the open doorway and recognized the silhouette of Ryoga Hibiki against the rising sun. Ranma said nothing. Maybe he came in friendship? I sure could use a friend these days, she thought hopefully. They were frenemies at best, but they'd generally been there for each other when it really counted. She hadn't seen Ryoga in months, not since before "it" happened, but that wasn't especially surprising. It wasn't at all uncommon for him to get lost for months at a time; indeed, their rivalry had only begun when Ryoga issued a challenge over a lunchroom disagreement and then arrived at the designated location for the fight several days late.
"So, it's true then?"
Ranma could only manage a sullen nod.
"And that means…"
Ranma gave another sullen nod, looking away just in time to miss the toothy grin beginning to crack Ryoga's mask of concern.
"That means you won't be engaged to Akane anymore! And she and I can…"The rest of the sentence was lost to a somewhat maniacal laughter, as tended to befall Ryoga whenever he thought of Ranma's fiancée.
Her melancholy quickly gave way to fury. How dare he gloat, at a time like this? "I may be a girl, but at least I can talk to her, P-chan."
Ryoga glowered, clenching his fist. "And you, trying to deny Akane her happiness! You know you can't give her what she needs, and yet you won't stand aside for a real man! You're the pig!" It never failed to rile Ryoga up when Ranma brought up his own secret Jusenkyo curse, and how it transformed him into the little black swine that Akane had taken to considering an on-again, off-again pet.
An audible gasp from the kitchen doorway split the tension. Kasumi, broom in hand, glared at Ryoga with what could only be described as motherly disapproval. "Ryoga Hibiki! You should be ashamed of yourself! Ranma is a lady now, and I will not have her spoken to that way in this house!"
The massive young man in the yellow shirt snickered darkly – in trying to protect Ranma, the elder of Akane's two sisters had actually driven the knife home. "Of course. My apologies, Kasumi." He turned back to Ranma with a sadistic jeer. "I am terribly sorry if I offended you, miss." Ryoga bowed emphatically, turned on his right heel, and exited back through the doorway to the side yard with an unmistakable bounce in his step.
Ranma sat on her bedroll in the Tendo guest room, hugging her knees and resting her chin on them through her black gi pants. Ryoga's words echoed in her mind. He was such a jerk, but maybe he was right. He would be able to take care of Akane and the dojo in ways that Ranma no longer could. Despite the arrangement between Ranma's father and Mr. Tendo, merging their families and the two branches of the Anything-Goes Martial Arts tradition through their marriage no longer seemed a viable option. Ryoga had intended to head out to the dojo to talk to Akane, probably to finally admit how much he cared about her, or - more likely - fall on his face trying, but that was twelve hours ago. When - or if - he would actually show up was anyone's guess.
She looked away from the doorway, where the current object of her dread hung. Though it was bright white and teal, to Ranma, it might as well have been the black shroud of death itself.
When "it" happened, Ranma had no choice but to stop going to school. Most of her schoolmates, for reasons that utterly escaped her, had never put two and two together about the nature of Ranma's gender-swapping curse, and so suddenly showing up in her current form would have been, well, awkward. For months now, she had focused all of her time on finding another cure and resuming her life.
So much for that. Mr. Tendo and Kasumi, the de facto parents of the household since Ranma's father Genma was always too aloof to care, had apparently decided that it was time for Ranma to try to move on, and to try to find a new normal somehow. To them, that meant returning to Furinkan High for the upcoming school term. As a girl.
Everyone would know what had happened. Worse, because she had missed so much time the year before, she would have to repeat her classes. If she were being honest with herself, she'd have known that was a risk anyway; a childhood spent traveling the world learning martial arts techniques had left her severely disadvantaged in academics. Akane would be an upperclassman to her now. Her own ridicule she could find a way to survive, but the thought of Akane being teased for having been engaged to a girl – let alone one who couldn't even keep up with her class – turned her stomach like sour milk. The daily trial by combat for the right to date Akane would no doubt resume, and in her condition, Ranma would be able to do naught more than stand there in her dress and watch with the other twittering girls as Akane fought for her own hand. And then she'd graduate, and Ranma would be left there. Alone.
Tatewaki Kuno, who had graduated with Nabiki, was planning to stick around the school as an associate kendo instructor. Having your dad as the principal had its perks, apparently. His wealthy family certainly didn't need him to rush into a real job, and Kuno wasn't leaving as long as he thought there was a chance with Akane. No doubt his hounding of her would be worse than ever, considering that the vile Ranma Saotome could no longer be an obstacle.
Akane wouldn't be the only girl he'd be chasing every day with free run of the school, either. Now that the mysterious pigtailed girl Kuno was equally infatuated with was here to stay, there was no avoiding it. Only Ranma's superior martial arts prowess had protected her from his wandering hands before, but without it? For a split second, the face of Mikado Sanzenin flashed in her mind. The feeling of being picked up against her will… kissed against her will. Ranma's first kiss. Taken. Stolen. By a guy. It still gave her nightmares from time to time, and just thinking about it made her skin crawl.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look back up at the doorway, where Nabiki's hand-me-down Furinkan uniform hung pressed and ready. Ranma's uniform, now. The first day of fall term was tomorrow. The last day she could pretend to cling to the life she knew was today. Ranma wondered if she could get away with calling out sick if only she gave in to the overwhelming urge to throw up.
Her further descent into despair was interrupted by a knock at the door of the unfurnished guest room. "Ranma? Can I come in?"
A quiet "I guess" was all the sullen girl sitting on the bedroll could get out.
The door slid open, and in stepped Akane, a concerned look on her face. "Hey. You okay? You didn't come out to dinner. We're all worried about you."
Ranma buried her face in her knees, hugging her legs tight. "I'm fine."
Akane sighed with concern, crossing her ankles and dropping to sit beside her fiancée on the floor. "You're not fine, Ranma. Everyone knows it. I know things are hard, but…"
Ranma exploded from her balled-up position, turning on her. "You know it's hard? You don't know anything. None of you do! None of you have ever had your whole identity snatched away in a blink. Everything you've ever done, erased. You don't have the slightest idea what it feels like!"
Uncharacteristically, Akane responded not by raising her temper to meet Ranma's, but with a soft hand on the redhead's shoulder. "You're right. We don't. But we're here for you anyway."
Ranma recoiled, ashamed of herself for having snapped when Akane was just trying to help. She finally allowed herself to make eye contact, and in an instant, she knew what had to be done. For all her anger issues, all her un-cute mannerisms, Akane was a good and kind person. She deserved better than the uncertainty of Ranma's new reality. Better than Ranma could give.
"Can I have a few minutes more alone, please?"
Akane nodded, standing. "Of course. Whatever you need." She exited through the door and slid it shut, pulling the dreaded school uniform back into Ranma's view.
"To hell with this," Ranma muttered under her breath, standing and making for her closet. She opened it, looking over its contents. After staying so long with the Tendo family, she had accumulated more belongings, but not much of consequence. Her wardrobe was more girls' clothes than guys' at this point, the product of a combination of shenanigans pulled to get free octopus puffs or gain advantages in a fight, and Kasumi's relentless determination over the last few months to get Ranma to accept her femininity. Ranma's entire female persona had long been a sort of mask, like a Halloween costume she could put on when it suited her needs. It was the only way she'd been able to make peace with it. Now, the mask was permanent, whether she wanted it or not, and the boy she had once been was the one that felt more like a fantasy.
Avoiding the dresses and the ridiculous bunny suits, Ranma stuffed a few days' worth of relatively androgynous clothing and a map into her huge beige hiking backpack without bothering to fold either. She tightly wound her bedroll and strapped it to the top of the pack. Slinging it over one shoulder, she headed through the door toward the hall. Her pack pushed through the curtain formed by the hanging white and blue dress as she passed, and it fell to the floor. She saw no need to pick it up.
"I'mleaving."
Mr. Tendo leapt up from his shogi board. Ranma's father also looked up, but not before rearranging a few game pieces behind Soun's back.
"What are you talking about? It's a school night." It was only then that Soun noticed the backpack. "Oh."
Ranma nodded resolutely. "You only asked me and Pop to stay here so I could marry one of your daughters, and well…" She gestured to her body, letting her form finish the sentence her words could not. "I don't even know who I am anymore, but I know I don't belong here."
Akane entered the dining room from the hallway, immediately taking in the gravity of the scene. Her hands flew to her lips in horror. "Ranma, no! You can't! You can't just leave!Where will you go? How will you… how will I…?"
Soun held up his hand, gesturing for Akane to stop. "Son, I know you are confused right now, but think this through. You know you will always be welcome here with us."
Genma, having finished his cheating, made his way into the dining room from the porch and clapped his hand roughly on her shoulder with a confident laugh. "Ranma, my boy, don't be rash! This will all blow over, I'm sure of it!"
With a shriek that sounded less like a battle kiai and more like a primal roar, Ranma grabbed the first thing she could reach and in one deft motion, swung and released. Soun managed to duck before his dining room table flew past his head. Genma was not so lucky.
"Don't you get it?! I'm not your son, and I'm not your boy. Not anymore, and I'm never gonna be again. Ever! This is it now. This is who I am, and I hate it! I HATE IT!" She turned slightly to face her father as his head poked out from beneath the splintered furniture.
Her eyes flashed darkly, her chest heaving with every shred of anger, and hurt, and fear, and everything else she'd put on a brave face and bottled up for the last five months. "And YOU!You and your stupid training did this to me. You stole everything from me! My life, my family…" Her voice cracked slightly, swallowing back her sadness. "Two families now. This is all your fault,old man, and I will NEVER forget it!"
Her breathing began to slow as her rage subsided. The furious expression on her face melted into one of broken emptiness, as if she had shot her whole heart out of her chest like a cannon and there was nothing left inside of her to fill the space. Kasumi and Nabiki watched from the kitchen door, transfixed but wordless. Akane started to approach, but Ranma's hollow words froze her in her tracks.
"I just can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. Akane, I… I'm sorry."
Without another word, she snatched her bag from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder as she ran. She sprinted through the side door and vaulted over the garden wall into the street beyond. Akane burst through the front door in pursuit, but the smaller girl was far too fast and had too great a head start. "RANMA, WAIT! Come back!"
Ranma did not turn. She just kept running. She had to. She had one shred of dignity left, and she was determined not to lose it.
Phoenix: Reignited Edition is a special edition remaster of the entire Phoenix saga, with every chapter re-edited and new scenes/chapters added. You'll experience:
* A Ranma 1/2 fanfiction that assumes no knowledge of the canon material
* More than 350 chapters of content being remastered and re-serialized
* Found family, slow-burn F/F romance and an inspiring trans-positive throughline
* More than 30 original songs
* 3+ chapters a week posting schedule (Tuesdays / Thursdays / Saturdays)
If you're new to Phoenix, welcome! You're starting from the beginning of an epic I've been serializing for almost two years now, and continue to. If you hang out for the posting schedule, you'll get the remastered/improved chapters as they drop, but if you can't wait to see what happens next, hit the button at the bottom and you'll find the original Phoenix series, consisting of Phoenix Ignited, Phoenix Ascendant, and Phoenix Odyssey.
If you're already a Firebird, welcome home! Thanks for checking out the reboot!
This is my first time on Sufficient Velocity, so, thank you for noticing me, senpai! Please be gentle, and let me know if I've done something wrong - the interface is a little confusing for me so far.
Bracing herself, Ranma cupped her hands under the faucet, splashing a bit of water onto her face. She kept her palms pressed to her mouth, trying to stifle the involuntary yelp of pain that she knew was coming. She shuddered tensely and gritted her teeth as the scalding liquid burned its way down her neck, finally and mercifully being caught in the collar of her red silk Chinese shirt. To anyone else, the water beginning to fill the steel sink would have been tepid at best – but not to her. Not anymore. Not since…
She shook her head, trying to evict the thought before it finished forming. No use going down that rabbit hole again. She looked in the mirror, brushing a few stray leaves from the flame-red braid that swayed over her right shoulder. That's as good as it's gonna get, she thought with a sigh, picking up a beige camping backpack that was way too big for her slender frame and strapping it over her shoulders. She felt so weak, she could barely lift it. Unlocking the restroom door, she pushed her way out into the crowd -- people hustling and bustling to reach their platforms in time to catch the trains to work. The ground rumbled a bit as a silver passenger train rocketed into position and slowed to a stop, its doors opening with a loud hiss.
"Chuo District, boarding now on platform eight," came a robotic-sounding feminine voice from the tinny public address speakers overhead. Rather than heading for a train, however, she made for the concrete stairway and ascended into the bright sunlight of the city above.
Up at street level too, people darted every which way, trying to settle into their shops and offices in time to start the day. She noticed a woman in a green business suit and heels, hurriedly trying to finish a pack of vending machine rice balls on a bench near the sidewalk. Her gray leather briefcase was pinned against her body with her left elbow. Like everyone else on the street, she looked absolutely frantic with stress. She wondered if the lady with the rice balls knew how much worse it would be if she had nowhere to go at all - and no rice balls, to boot. Adjusting the weight of her backpack on her shoulders, she looked for the least crowded street and started walking.
Passing an okonomiyaki cart on the street as she walked, Ranma managed the beginnings of a smile, remembering her friend Ukyo and how supportive she had been about her decision, even though she thought it was a stupid idea. She was right, too. Ranma had stopped to say goodbye on her way out of Nerima, all those weeks ago. Ukyo had even managed to slip a little money into her backpack unnoticed, after she'd refused to accept it outright. The nascent smile receded as she remembered that, after nearly seven weeks homeless and alone, the money was almost gone. She needed a plan. Needed one before she left, really, but it was far too late to do anything about that now.
Something had to give, and fast.
"Anything goes, huh? Never heard of it." The giant of a man chuckled. "Sounds like what you call your style when you ain't got a style."
Ranma bristled, but tried to ignore the insult. "No, sir. It's a family tradition. It combines ancient techniques from all kinds of martial arts. We take the strongest moves from dozens of traditions and blend them into one." Also, some random dirty tricks and the occasional panty raid, but Ranma decided to leave that part of the school's legacy for another time.
The man's square jaw took on a condescending smirk as he straightened the black cloth belt at the waist of his gi. "I see. Well, we teach kempo here, so I don't know if you could be of much help as an instructor here. Sorry."
He started to turn away, but Ranma persisted. "Our tradition incorporates a few moves from kempo, mostly the tiger, crane and dragon forms. I've studied it." She inhaled deeply, summoning the courage for what needed to happen next. Eleventh time's the charm, right? "I could spar with you and show you, if you want?"
The sensei turned on his heel with a hearty laugh. "You aren't challenging my dojo, are you, kid?"
Ranma waved her hands defensively. "Of course not, sir! I just want a chance to prove myself."
He grinned in amusement, running his hand through his shoulder-length black hair. "Alright. Let's see what you got." He dropped into a loose fighting stance. "But none of that backwater shit. Kempo only."
Ranma nodded and took her position, keeping her hands in front of herself at all times. Before "it" happened, she could have taken the guy with her eyes closed. Now, only one thought pounded through her mind: Don't get hit. Dear gods, don't get hit.
She heeded her own advice, ducking under a quick, wild jab and stepping back. Okay. This guy fights like Ryoga. I can work with that, she coached herself. As he lunged forward with another heavy punch, Ranma went low, sweeping at his legs. The sensei took the hit on the shin, but lifted his leg from the mat and easily retained his balance. The guy was built like a tree trunk, and just the impact against his leg hurt her ankle a bit.
Focusing on defense - and on dodging rather than blocking - meant the fight was slow work for Ranma. She landed a punch here and a kick there, but nothing that showed any sign of wearing down her adversary. Meanwhile, she was already beginning to feel fatigue, probably owing to the fact that she hadn't eaten since yesterday. Ranma had to end the duel, and quickly. She thought of the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique. She hadn't used it since that day on the mountainside. Still, it couldn't save her now; the terms of the fight had been set. A high kick from the sensei sailed harmlessly over her head, and she saw an opening. It was tight, but she had to try.
Darting in close, she landed four quick strikes in succession to the right side of his torso. Only then did she realize her mistake. The sensei continued to rotate his body, using the momentum of the missed kick to spin into a vicious elbow strike. The full force of it landed dead in Ranma's sternum, and she staggered back. Even a block was hard to grit through thanks to the Full-Body Cat's Tongue, but the impact of the sensei's elbow was like being hit in the ribs by a freight train. Still, she knew what she was fighting for. I win this, or I don't eat. Somehow, she kept her feet.
Briefly.
The sensei rushed forward, delivering an overhand strike with a loud kiai. Ranma tried desperately to lift her arms to block, but it was too late. She caught the downward force of his fist right across her cheek, and her legs buckled under her. Her eyes watering, still gasping from the blow to the chest, she willed herself to stand, but she knew the fight was over. The sensei gave a shallow bow and turned to face his young students, who whooped and applauded at their teacher's emphatic dispatching of the interloper in their midst. He looked back over his shoulder at Ranma with a condescending smirk. "Not bad,kid. My girls' intermediate class is Wednesdays at ten. First lesson's free."
Ranma's face flushed in anger and humiliation as some thirty yellow belts cackled at her defeat. She managed to steady herself, rushing to the front of the building and grabbing her backpack and shoes without breaking stride. She didn't even stop to put them on before bursting through the door and making her escape.
She picked a direction and kept walking the length of the block, wanting to put a little distance between herself and the strip mall containing Sensei Fukui's kempo dojo before stopping to think. That had been the last martial arts school in the phone book. Now, it's time to panic. When other kids were learning math, and writing, and all that other boring crap that made them ready to get a job, Ranma was learning punches and kicks. Martial arts was all she knew. If she couldn't make a living with it, what was she going to do? She slumped in despair onto a curbside bench beside her bag, with nothing but her growling stomach to console her. A chill breeze brushed past her hypersensitive skin, causing her whole body to shiver. It was mid-November, and it was going to start getting really cold soon.
What options did she have left?
There was always the option of returning to the Tendo residence. No, I can't. Not after the way I left. They'd never take me back. Even if they did, Pop would never let me live down the shame. Besides, Ryoga and Akane probably have five or six piglets on the way by now, she mused darkly.
Ukyo? Sure, she would let her stay in a heartbeat, but then she would likely have… expectations, too. Plus, she'd see Akane and everyone else she knew almost every day. She shook the thought loose from her head. No, nowhere in Nerima would do. She had made her peace and said goodbye, and honor demanded that she stand by her decision, even though it hadn't worked out for her.
What about Mom? Ranma sighed at the thought. She barely remembered Nodoka Saotome, having not seen her since she was five years old, and a five-year-old boy, at that. Ranma wasn't even sure what city she lived in anymore. All she really knew for sure was the stories that Genma told, and they had made one thing abundantly clear – Nodoka Saotome would never accept that Ranma had left as her son and come home as her daughter. So much so in fact, Ranma's father had accepted - on behalf of both of them - an agreement to commit ritual suicide if Ranma didn't turn out sufficiently manly. Showing up on her mother's doorstep was as good as a death sentence.
Ranma looked up from her hands, where she had been absently running her fingers over the angry, raised scar jutting across her left wrist. The Amazon boy who had fought for Xian Pu's hand had left her a memento of the worst day of her life, as if the entire rest of her body wasn't one, too. It wasn't a particularly busy street, but it was lunch hour at most of the nearby offices, so the sidewalks were full of colleagues in business attire looking for a place to grab a bite. More than a few bikes whizzed past her bench, most carrying takeout and rushing to deliver it hot, as well as the occasional car. With a loud pneumatic hiss, a lime green commuter bus with an advertisement for toothpaste plastered on the side released its brakes and began to move, its newly-boarded passengers having paid their fares and found their seats.
As the bus cleared the block, Ranma noticed a small hole-in-the wall bar across the street. It was housed in a two-story free-standing brick building that seemed inviting enough, if a little run down. She didn't look far enough to notice its name; she was far more distracted by the little red NOW HIRINGsign in the front window. She nodded to herself and exhaled resolutely, shouldering her backpack. How bad could it be? Worst case, it sucked and she moved on with a little more money in her pocket.
Well, so much for my pride, Ranma thought as she waited for an opening in the traffic to cross the street. I can't hack it as a martial artist anymore, so now I guess the best I can hope for is being a freakin' waitress. Fuck, I hope this isn't one of those places where the girls have to take their clothes off. I'm desperate, but I don't think I can do… that.
She crossed the street briskly and pushed open the tinted glass door. The inside of the bar was set up as a kitschy little music venue, with a little triangular stage off in the corner. There was a small wooden podium for a hostess off to her immediate left. A long, well-kept wooden bar with a coated acacia countertop snaked its way along the right side of the establishment, with brass rails running along the bottom to give guests seated in the brown vinyl barstools a place for their feet. There was a break in the counter a meter or two wide, and the second, smaller counter had no stools in front of it. A blue slatted saloon-style door sat behind the twin counters, presumably heading to a back room. Behind both bars, the walls were covered in mirrors and lined with shelves containing varieties of liquor too numerous for Ranma to begin to count.
The wall on her left was lined with snug booth seating with cherry tables and red vinyl cushions, and a row of round cherry wood high-top tables surrounded by four chairs each divided the space in the middle. A few larger, round tables with seating for six dotted the narrow bar room at intervals. Neon signs advertising various libations dotted the walls, but none of them were currently turned on. Past the bar, the stage sat in the back left corner and the room opened up to the right, presumably as deeply into the building as the back room stretched. In the back corner area, a pool table with a purple felt top that had seen better days and a lone coin-operated arcade machine sat awaiting the day's guests. There was also a small plastic folding table on which was stacked a few pieces of electronic equipment and a monitor for running the karaoke station, with thick black cables taped to the floor as they snaked past the restroom doors to the stage.
Ranma craned her neck around the bar, setting her backpack down on the chair nearest to the front door. As far as she could tell, no one was present. "Hello?"
The saloon door swung open with a bang and a tall woman emerged. Probably somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, she had shoulder-length raven hair with just the faintest hint of gray peeking out above her ears. She was dressed in blue jeans and a black tank top bearing the logo of some beer brand or another. She set the bucket she was carrying down on the floor behind the bar, wiping her brow with her forearm. "We're closed, ya know."
Ranma nodded. "I'm sorry. I saw the sign in the window? I can come back later if you're busy…"
The taller woman perked up a bit, seeming only now to take an interest in Ranma. She looked Ranma over intently, with a curious expression on her face. "You ever worked in a bar before, kiddo?"
Ranma shook her head, trying to hide a little cringe at having to answer in the negative. "No, but I've waited tables before, at an okonomiyaki place and a ramen cafe. I learn super quick, and I…"
The bar's owner raised her hand, interrupting the redheaded teen's thought. "How old are you?"
Ranma winced. She knew that the drinking age was twenty, but even if the law allowed younger people to work in places that served alcohol, she had no idea what the establishment's hiring policy was. Screw it, desperate times and all that, she thought. "I'll be twenty next Saturday." At least she hadn't lied about her birthday. If anyone decided to check her identification card, the photo of a black-haired boy would probably cause issues long before the year of birth did, she reasoned.
The older woman gave a contemplative nod, looking Ranma over again. Ranma wasn't sure if it was curiosity or suspicion she saw in the elder woman's eyes, but whether or not she bought Ranma's lie, the die was cast. "When could you start?"
Ranma smiled brightly, seeming to straighten up a little bit thanks to a combination of adrenaline and the first hope she'd had in weeks. "Right now, if you want."
Her answer was met with a huff and a smile from the bar's proprietress. "Eager. I like that. Alright, kid. Let's do this! We start setting up for the day at about noon. Be here around that time tomorrow?"
Ranma beamed. "Yes, of course! Thank you so much!" She bowed respectfully, waiting for a return gesture before grabbing her backpack and turning to reach for the brass handle of the glass double door.
"Hey! What's your name, anyway?"
"Ran…" Ranma gulped. How many times had some random freak showed up at the dojo with a claim of marriage or a challenge letter addressed to Ranma Saotome? Could she really afford that chaos upending her new life like it had the old? Did she really want to be found? There was only one thing to do, she resolved. Like everything else she had known, like everything else she used to be, the name had to be left behind.
"Ranko.Ranko… Tendo."
They were more of a family to me than Pop ever was, she thought as she spat out the only other family name she could think of. It's only right that I honor them.
With a single nod and a wave, the woman behind the bar dismissed her. "See you tomorrow, then, Ranko Tendo. Welcome to the Phoenix."
She only had a few coins left on her, but something had to be done about her clothes. It was a choice between a clean shirt and one last meal from a vending machine, but she'd chosen to invest in making a good impression on her new boss. Ranma had only brought three outfits with her, and that was going to be a problem sooner than later, but at least for her first day she could show up clean.
She ducked into a nearby laundromat, heading to the ladies' room and locking the door. Figuring she'd put on the least professional outfit she had with her while the others got clean, she slipped out of her black gi pants and pulled her red shirt up over her head. She winced loudly as it passed over her face, and again when she looked up at the mirror and realized why. The area around her right eye, where the kempo sensei had dealt her that final blow, had turned black and purple. No wonder the lady at the bar looked like she was taking pity on me. Quickly donning a yellow tee shirt and a pair of light red - she refused to call them pink - overalls, she exited the bathroom and tossed all of her other clothes into the nearest available washing machine.
She sat on a bench near the washer she was using and rotated her shoulders with a grimace. There was a sore spot between her breasts that was just killing her. She wanted to tell herself it was from sleeping outside the last few weeks, or from the beatings she had taken at her many martial arts job interviews, but it wasn't, and she knew it. Even now, all these months later, the spot where Xian Pu's grandmother Koh Lon had poked her with a stick and changed her life forever still burned white hot. She wondered if it would ever stop.
When the bar's owner arrived at 11:30 the next morning, she found Ranma sitting on the sidewalk waiting for her. She'd already been there for nearly a half an hour; there was too much riding on a good first impression for Ranma, and there was no chance she was going to be late. Besides, she didn't have much else to do anyway.
The elder woman laughed, reaching toward the glass door with her key in hand. "You're early. Don't worry, we'll train that out of you." She wore a black leather jacket, her salt-and-pepper hair cascading just past the shoulders of it. She really was pretty, especially given her age. Ranma understood how she had been so successful in the entertainment business. The door sprung open with a click. "C'mon in. There's a spot in the back where you can leave your bag."
Ranma picked her backpack up from the stoop and pushed through the blue saloon door separating the bar area from the kitchen and back rooms. The back of the house was broken up into several small rooms. To her right, a closed door proclaimed itself to be the management office. To her left, there was a locked closet with a glass door. Ranma could see hundreds, maybe thousands, of liquor bottles inside. This must be their stock area, she thought. The walls were lined with posters for bands and bar products, with the occasional note for the staff.
Moving down the hallway, she found a passage on her right leading to a narrow staircase up to the second floor. Beyond that, a small industrial kitchen expanded in both directions. The back wall was equipped with a commercial cooktop and oven, two microwaves, and a bank of deep fryers behind a stainless steel prep counter lined with dry ingredients. A walk-in refrigerator with a large steel door dominated the wall to the right. The place was spotless. As she wandered back toward the front of the house, she found a little alcove to her right with a few coats hanging in it and a broom and mop leaning against the wall. Doffing her backpack with a groan and propping it precariously in the cramped little space, she cracked her neck loudly as she walked back to the front.
"Hey there, kiddo! You ready to get started?" The bar's owner waved to Ranma from the center of the room, where she was refilling a napkin dispenser on one of the large round tables.
Ranma nodded eagerly, putting on a bright smile. If I'm gonna have to do this, I'm gonna do everything I can to be good at it. I can't afford to screw this up. "Yes, ma'am! Where do you want me?"
The middle-aged woman in the black leather jacket gave Ranma an easy smile of reassurance. She could see the nervousness in her new employee's face, however much the kid might have been trying to hide it. "Alright! Over in those metal bins there on the bar, you'll find a bunch of lemons and limes. We need to get those cut into quarters, and then the oranges there into thinner slices. You think you can handle that?"
Ranma picked up a long, slender knife from the bar, spinning it in her fingers with a dexterity only a lifelong martial artist could muster. "I guess I can take a crack at it."
The woman shook her head and laughed. "Alright, smartass, I get the point. Let me know when you're done; I'll be in the kitchen getting the prep table set." With one foot through the double doors, she stopped. "Shit, I almost forgot! My name's Hana. Sorry about that, Ranko."
Ranma looked up from her fruit without her hands stopping their slicing motion. "No problem. Pleased to meet you, Hana. And hey, thanks again for this."
In less than ten minutes, Ranma had cleared the lemons and was halfway through the limes when the front door swung open with a bang and three women walked in. The first, a tallish, slender girl in her late twenties in a crimson, long-sleeved silk button down shirt and a black flared skirt, pulled off her sunglasses. Her blonde hair framed her face in a sort of bob cut that reminded Ranma a little of Nabiki. "Whoa, hey, we got a new girl!"
The second to enter was a shorter, stubbier girl in a pair of jeans and a black corset top, her shoulder-length hair braided into two pigtails and dyed a shade of electric blue that made Ranma think of the cotton candy at the Nerima fair. She looked to be the youngest of the three, though probably still four or five years Ranma's senior. "Hey hey! Welcome aboard!"
Finally, a brunette in an orange minidress peeked out from behind the pair. She was wearing just a little too much makeup, and from the looks of it, putting it on it took the time she would have otherwise spent brushing her hair. "Mama, you here?"
The elder stateswoman of the bar popped out of the kitchen, now wearing a black vinyl dishwasher's apron over her white tee shirt and having removed her leather jacket. "Morning, girls. Say hello to Ranko. She'll be joining us today. Take it easy on her, huh?"
The brunette giggled. "Oh, like you did for us?"
Hana cracked a smile, scoffing slightly. "That was different. You needed a kick in the butt once in a while."
The brunette, who looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties, made her way through the gap between the main and service bars and gave Hana a tight hug. "You know that's right." She turned to face Ranma with a welcoming smile. "Hey there, Ranko. I'm Izumi. Good to meet ya." She opened a dishwasher mounted under the bar, beginning to stack clean highball glasses on the countertop.
The girl with the blue pigtails waved nervously, still standing near the doorway. "Hiya! I'm Mei." Ranma gave her a polite smile as she bifurcated the final lime in the bin.
The blonde took a seat at the bar, looking Ranma over analytically. "Yui." Ranma meekly turned her cheek, trying in vain to hide her black and purple eye from the girl's examination. She extended her right hand over the bar, and Ranma wiped the fruit juice from her hands with a nearby bar towel before accepting it with her left. As she did, Yui didn't shake her hand as much as she glanced over the raised scar jutting across Ranma's left wrist, letting her eyes linger just long enough to hope Ranma didn't notice her looking.
"It's good to meet all of you. I know I'm new here, but I'll do whatever I can to help. Just point me at whatever needs done!" Ranma did her best to smile. Yui nodded with a thin smile of her own, but her furrowed brow and pursed lips gave Ranma a moment's pause. Is she upset about something? Did I do something wrong already?
Mei closed the distance to the bar, smiling meekly at Ranma. "Hey, can I show you something real quick?" She extended her hand, palm up and fingers open. Nodding in understanding, Ranma flipped the knife around so that the blade was in her hand and the handle stuck out, pressing it carefully into Mei's palm.
The cerulean-haired girl picked up an orange. "You're doing the slices like this, which is great and all," she said, shaving a few thin slices of fruit onto the bar. "But, if you want them to come out really pretty, try this." She pushed the knife through the flesh of the orange again, this time rotating her wrist ever so slightly as the blade passed through it. What fell from the orange this time was not a flat slice, but a wavy, almost spiral piece of art. Mei set the knife on the bar, the handle facing Ranma. "You wanna try, Ranko?"
Ranma copied her movements perfectly - years of analyzing the moves of opposing martial artists not totally going to waste - and finished the orange with six more spirals. "How's that?"
Mei made a show of performing a little golf clap, giggling brightly. "Look at that, girls! She's a natural!"
While Izumi finished her pyramid of highballs and changed focus to martini glasses, Yui and Hana were huddled together in the back by the pool table. Ranma couldn't hear what they were saying, but from their body language, she could tell that she was the subject of their conversation. It made her nervous, but she tried not to focus on it, accepting more pointers and a second pair of hands from Mei to finish the bin of garnishes for the evening's service.
The fruit-cutting work finished, Mei slipped behind the bar, starting to pick up and inspect each bottle of liquor displayed on the shelves mounted to the mirrored back wall. If a bottle was more than half empty, she noted it on a small pad of paper she'd pulled from a drawer.
Yui and Hana walked over together, taking seats next to each other on barstools on the patrons' side of the bar. Hana spoke first. "Okay. Obviously, we're going to need to rearrange what everybody's doing now that Ranko has joined us. Yui, you're bartending, of course. Izumi, we're going to have you on table service, with Mei running the service bar. Ranko, you're going to do what we call bar backing tonight. Have you heard of it?"
Ranma shook her head. She'd barely even set foot in a bar before yesterday, usually only when she needed a place to duck in and use the bathroom.
"OK, " Hana began. "It sounds simple, but it's really not. Basically, when the place gets busy, Yui is going to be slammed three and four people deep back there. At the service bar, where Mei is, people don't order their own drinks; she'll be making whatever the people at the tables order through Izzi. Both of them are going to need to make drinks as fast as they can. As the bar back, your job is to make sure they don't run out of anything they need. They won't have time to cut more fruit, wash glasses, get ice, any of that, so they're going to be counting on you to keep them supplied so they don't have to slow down. They'll let you know when they need something, but keep an eye out and try to be proactive if you can. Eventually, we'll try you out on other jobs - I know you said you've waited tables before - but this is the quickest way to get you exposed to all the moving parts around here."
Ranma nodded in understanding. "I'll do my best," she replied in as chipper a tone as she could manage.
The sound of a doorbell came from the back room. "That must be the grocery delivery guy," Yui announced. "I'll take care of it." She disappeared back behind the blue saloon door as Mei pushed through it in the opposite direction with a large armload of full liquor bottles.
As Mei began to restock the wells behind the bar, Ranma saw that several more bottles had been pulled out from the locked storage room but not carried in and rushed to gather them, bringing them to Mei with a widening smile. I hate to admit it, but so far, this is actually kind of… fun?
A loud clatter came from the back room, followed by Yui's frustrated voice. "Aggh! Son of a…" She burst into the area behind the bar, a mop in her hand, and Ranma cringed. The sound she heard could only have been Yui struggling to get the mop out from behind the massive backpack she'd left in the alcove. She whistled loudly as she emerged from the back. "Oi, Izzi! Can you get the floors? I'm running way behind." Tossing the mop, Yui turned back into the narrow back area and made her way toward Hana's office. Izumi caught the mop in mid-air and set about wetting it from a sink behind the service bar. Ranma watched the steaming water pour from the faucet in terror, silently praying her thanks that it hadn't been her that Yui had asked.
The rest of the afternoon was filled with instruction about cash registers and liquor names and ice machines. The girls were all fun and seemed to enjoy working together, and there were no shortage of giggles between them. Ranma blushed periodically at the realization that she'd participated in more than a few herself. At long last, the first customers began to trickle in. Ranma stood at the entrance to the back room as if she were a soccer goalkeeper, her eyes flashing constantly between all of her various areas of responsibility. Not a single glass had left the stack yet - there was no way it could be empty - but Ranma was determined to excel in whatever role she'd been assigned. Her growling stomach reminded her that her life all but depended on it.
With what must have been shocking agility in her coworkers' eyes, Ranma darted in and out of their workspaces with ease, somehow managing to keep everything topped off despite never getting in the way of the older girls. Mei noticed the only thing she was a little slow on was washing the glasses; for some reason, she seemed to be doing everything in her power to avoid putting her hands in a sink full of warm water. Oh well, everybody's squeamish about something, she thought to herself.
While the stage in the corner went unused, the sound system in the bar never stopped. They played a variety of pop and rock songs on an almost jukebox-like rotation, and Ranma found that the high-energy beat lent an extra spring to her step. She was glad for it, because once the rush had gotten started, it had been relentless. Ranma had only taken one break in the first few hours, and only because Hana had offered her something to eat. The way Yui looked at her as she devoured the pizza she was given made Ranma entirely self-conscious. She guessed it probably wasn't ladylike to eat at that speed, and winced with regret at the realization that it might have been seen as impolite, but she hadn't eaten in two days and didn't remember the last time she'd actually been full.
At one point, Izumi went on a short break and entrusted Ranma with a few of her tables. By the time she'd returned, the patrons had finished and Ranma had already cleared the tables for the next guests. While Mei and Izumi didn't miss an opportunity to offer her encouragement or advice, it seemed that every time Ranma looked up, Yui's eyes were on her. She didn't know what to make of the head bartender, or why she seemed so intent on Ranma's every move, but it really worried her. She didn't seem upset or anything, just intently focused on her new coworker for reasons Ranma couldn't fathom. Ranma made it a point to smile brightly at her every time she caught her looking, in the hopes of disarming whatever might be building in her head.
Hana, meanwhile, was barely seen behind the bar. She spent most of the evening in the front of the house, welcoming guests and ensuring their needs were met. Between her frequent check-ins with Ranma to ensure she had no questions and was doing alright, she helped Izumi clear tables when she could, and carried the occasional drink when her hands were full. For the most part, she remained hands-off to see how her crew handled a Saturday night with a full complement of staff.
Just when Ranma thought the night would never end, the last customer walked out and Izumi flipped the little sign in the window to the CLOSED side, deadbolting both of the glass doors. Not since the last time her father had made her lug boulders up a mountain for some stupid training thing had Ranma been so tired. She slumped into the closest chair at table eight, feeling her body relax with a long, slow exhale.
Izumi came up behind her, putting an arm around her shoulder with a little squeeze. "So, hey ladies, what do we think of Ranko tonight?" Izumi whooped and clapped, and Mei enthusiastically joined in. Yui and Hana were still in the back, where they had been mired in more conspiratorial conversations since just after last call, but they emerged at Izumi's prompting. Yui gave the new hire a little round of applause as well. Hana was all smiles, but did not clap because she had a clipboard in her hand.
"Seriously, honey. Great job today," Izumi said warmly. Ranma smiled up at the brunette, feeling at least a little accomplished. She found it difficult to be too happy though, as she was still worried about whatever it was that Yui and Hana were up to.
As Mei finished wiping down the bar top with a clean rag, Hana slid into the chair across from the redhead. "Hey, Ranko, can we talk for a second?"
Ranma nodded, eyeing Hana with some measure of concern. Her nerves were getting the best of her now, and she fidgeted in her seat a little.
Hana looked up over the clipboard, and she must have seen the poor girl jittering. "Take it easy, kiddo. I just gotta get some information from you for the employee file." Ranma swallowed hard with an audible gulp.
This is even worse, she thought, tapping her foot anxiously under the table.
"Okay, let's start off. Real basic stuff. Name's Ranko… you said your last name was Tendo, right?"
Ranma nodded nervously, her eyes darting around the room for signs of suspicion in the other girls' eyes.
"Got it. Birth date?" Ranma gave a date of November twenty-fifth, remembering to subtract two from the year at the last possible second.
A whoop came from behind the bar. "Nice! Hey, Yui! Saturday's the new kid's birthday!" Mei giggled.
"Alright. I take it you're a Japanese citizen, so no worries there?"
Ranma nodded again, meekly, in response to Hana's latest query, and the bar owner's pen moved some more behind the clipboard. "Great! Almost done. And, what's your address?"
Ranma froze. Oh, man. What are they gonna think, knowing I've been sleeping in parks and stuff the last few weeks? Are they gonna think less of me, like I'm some loser? I mean… they're not wrong, I guess. Will they even want me? She slumped down in her chair. "Well, I… ah…"
Hana nodded sadly. "Yeah, that's pretty much what we thought." Ranma looked up from her despair, puzzled. "Don't blame me," the proprietress continued. "Yui spotted it first."
The blonde had made her way out of the back room without Ranma having noticed, and was now standing behind the new hire's chair. "You've got leaves all over your back. You're carrying a camping backpack with a sleeping mat thing, and you felt the need to bring it here with you because you don't have anyplace else to leave it. You ate like you've been starving for a week. If you were trying to hide it, you… kinda suck at it, blockhead."
Ranma wanted to crawl under the table. She wished she could say she'd never been so humiliated, but lately that seemed to just invite a new low to lurk just around the corner. Hana sighed, putting the clipboard down on the table. Ranma's eyes darted to it and found that the top page contained a crossword puzzle, with a little abstract doodle off to the side.
What had been nervousness became panic. Clearly, her situation was going to be an issue for them if they had made such a big deal about it. Her eyes wide, she racked her brain for anything she could do or say to salvage the situation. If she couldn't even hold a job as a bar helper, she was well and truly sunk.
It was then that Hana reached across the table, covering Ranma's hand with her own and patting it to focus the teen's attention. "Hey, hey, hey. Ranko. Look at me. Look at me, baby. Everything's okay, honey. Relax." Something about the woman's voice, her presence, reassured Ranma, and she quieted herself at least somewhat. "Listen, the girls and I have been talking. You really impressed us today. We think you're going to do great here. But, baby, we can't have you out on the streets like that. It's not safe for you."
Ranma nodded, following along. While she was pretty sure she could still handle the odd pervy vagrant, and had had to do so more than once since she left Nerima, she appreciated her boss's concern nonetheless.
After a sip from her brown beer bottle, Hana continued. "So, anyway, we keep a little studio apartment upstairs. It's not much; we mostly just use it for quick changes and if one of us needs to crash for a while after a long night, but nobody lives up there. If you like…" Ranma noticed that as Hana spoke, Izumi, Yui and Mei had formed a semicircle behind her chair. "You're welcome to use it for a while if you want to."
Ranma blushed. She could not believe the kindness being shown to her, but she couldn't be a freeloader again. Not after how things ended with the Tendo family. "Thank you," she squeaked, "but really, I'm fine. I don't mind. It's not so bad." As she finished her sentence, the walls of the bar shook with a loud peal of thunder from outside. It had been so loud and so busy throughout the evening that none of the women had noticed it was storming.
Hana pursed her lips. "Okay, and now I'm not asking. Come on, honey."
She stood and offered Ranma her hand, but before Ranma could get out of her chair, Yui stepped forward. "Mama, let me get her settled?"
Hana nodded. "I think that's a great idea. Good night, Ranko."
With cheery assents from Mei and Izumi, Yui put her arm around the shorter girl's shoulders. "C'mon, you."
Ranma blushed furiously at being catered to after weeks of living rough. She felt terrible as she considered how distrusting she had been of Yui and Hana's conversations, and horribly guilty at the idea of living off of someone else's generosity again. On the other hand, she did have a job at the Phoenix. She wasn't freeloading; it would be no different than when Ukyo offered her a place to stay above her restaurant. Maybe she'd just stay the night, so she wasn't stuck out in the rain. It hadn't really stormed much since Ranma left home, but the thought of having to walk, let alone sleep, in a deluge made every cell of her hypersensitive skin stand on end.
Her backpack slung over her shoulder, she followed Yui up the narrow stairs to the left. The door at the top wasn't locked, and Yui pushed it open. "Well, here you go. Make yourself at home." Yui stepped forward to allow Ranma to enter and take in the space.
It was indeed a small apartment, probably not much bigger than the Tendo guest room, and it was fairly sparsely decorated. A tiny cooktop, a microwave and a half-sized refrigerator were crammed into one corner. Two narrow doors took up most of the east wall. Centered on the window directly ahead of her stood a twin-sized bed, sticking out into the center of the room. It had a fairly plain purple comforter, two small pillows, a headboard made of hollow aluminum painted white and bent into a few basic but dainty patterns, and a footboard to match. A small, white-painted nightstand and a round pine table with two chairs rounded out the furnishings. The air smelled faintly of flowers.
Ranma's eyes widened. She couldn't believe her good luck. What the heck did I do to deserve all this? Do Hana and the others want something from me? What's the catch? When's the other shoe going to drop? She tried not to get too excited in case things went south, but she had to admit, she couldn't wait to try out that bed. Her feet ached in ways she didn't know existed, and she honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd slept on a mattress. She kicked off her shoes and set her backpack on the hardwood floor next to the front door, which Yui closed behind them.
Yui motioned to the two doors on her right. "The one on the left is the bathroom, the other's the closet. There's a few outfits in there that the girls and I have left here over time; if anything fits you, you're welcome to borrow it."
Ranma looked up at her coworker skeptically, but hopefully. "Are you guys sure about this? I really..."
The blonde shushed her with an open palm and a smile. "You heard Mama. If she says you stay, you stay. There's no argument to be had about it."
Ranma sat on the bed, stifling a giggle as her butt sank into the soft mattress a little. "Well, thank you. All of you. I hope I'm going to make you all proud."
Her comment earned a more earnest smile than Ranma had seen from Yui thus far, and the tall blonde pulled up a chair from the dining table to a spot next to the bed. "Of that, Ranko, I have no doubt."
Ranma fidgeted with her hands a little, not really sure how to conduct herself. She didn't exactly have a lot of experience at the whole girl talk thing, other than an occasional conversation with Akane where Ranma thought her once-fiancée might find it easier to discuss a difficult subject with a girl. "Why do you call Hana Mama?"
Yui smiled a bit wistfully, looking around the room as if she were watching the ghosts of the past dance around on the wallpaper. "Well, kiddo, here's the thing. Where you're sitting right now? All of us sat there at one time or another. Hana took us all in and helped us find our way. We all had something to run from, and she refused to give up on any of us. She's the mother none of us really ever had. She's good people – the best. Over time, we've kind of become a little family, the five of us. Oh yeah, there's Ayako too – you'll meet her one of these days. She's the oldest of us, but she got married a few weeks ago and moved out to Yokohama with her husband. That's why we had an opening – which reminds me, tomorrow, make sure you take that sign out of the window, yeah?"
Ranma rocked back. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wasn't sure if her gloom despite this incredible turn of events was because she felt awkward for being pitied, because she felt guilty for accepting the charity of people who had themselves struggled, because she sympathized with her coworkers for having all been through similar situations to the one she found herself in now without the benefit of a childhood spent living out of a bag, or if it was just the sea of pent-up fears and worries that had finally begun to crest. Maybe all of it combined.
"What brought you all here, if I can ask?"
Yui scoffed a little, shaking her head as if admonishing herself for not expecting the obvious followup question. "Well, Izzi… she got pregnant at her 18th birthday party, and the shitbag guy bailed on her. She was alone with a young son when she first came. But now, she's seeing a great guy named Kaito, and he's amazing with little Hoshi. She'll probably be the next one getting hitched at this rate." She chuckled. "As for Mei, it was drugs, real bad. Man, the first month, she was so sick, but Mama stayed with her through the whole thing, got her clean, and she's been able to stay that way. We're all super proud of her."
Ranma nodded softly, the new context for the compassion her coworkers had shown her crashing into her like a wave of sledgehammers. "The other one… Ayako, you said her name was? What was her deal?"
The blonde chuckled. "Compared to the rest of 'em, Aya got off easy in the trauma department. She just had sticky fingers, and Mama had to save her from the cops a bunch of times."
"I guess that just leaves you," Ranma said, leaving the unasked question hanging in the air as she leaned over on the bed, nudging Yui's forearm playfully.
Yui blushed, nervously rubbing her wrist through her sleeve. "Me? Pshaw. I was fine, Mama just needed somebody cute to tend bar."
Ranma smirked disbelievingly. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets."
Yui turned to her, and while her expression turned more serious, it was painted with compassion and care. It reminded Ranma a lot of Kasumi. "More importantly, what about you, Ranko? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm here if and when you do."
Ranma had only known this girl for a few hours, but she wanted to tell her everything. Jusenkyo, the love hexagon-or-however-many-sides-it-had, the Cat's Tongue thing, all of it. She wanted somewhere to put it all, even just for a minute, but she was certain that there was no way Yui would believe her. She thought maybe she could say enough without saying too much.
"Sheesh, where do I start? Um, well, my pop was like, super strict about wanting me to… take over the family business. I mean, I wanted to and everything, but with him it was like, all training, all the time. We left home when I was like five, and he started taking me all over to… ya know, show me parts of the business and stuff. I haven't seen my mom since." She fidgeted a little, not sure how to broach the next part. "Thing is, Pop had this best friend, see, and they got the genius idea that one of Pop's kids and one of his should get married, and, well, I'm an only child. So, that pretty much settled things for me."
Yui cringed, crinkling her nose and recoiling in disgust. "An arranged marriage? People still do that? Ugh! Gross! Well, I hope he was decent, at least."
Ranma gulped hard. He?That was not a conversation she was prepared to have - not yet, at least. "Ak… my fiance… was really sweet sometimes, and really cute sometimes, and really violent and untrusting sometimes. It was… complicated. We might've been able to make it work, maybe, but then I… got hurt, and everything started changing for me. I wasn't sure what to do, I was confused and scared and depressed and I needed time and I needed help, and Pop and his friend and everybody just insisted that I keep on like nothing ever happened and I just couldn't do it. I tried, Yui. I swear I did. I couldn't do it anymore. I…"
The touch of Yui's hand on hers interrupted her train of thought. Yui's slender fingers curled around Ranma's left hand and wrist, sympathy filling her eyes. "You don't have to say anything else, honey. I understand." Her voice was soft and soothing.
Ranma's eyes welled and she turned away slightly, hiding the black eye that had been left as a souvenir from her humiliation at the dojo. I can't do this, she admonished herself. I can't. Gotta suck it up. Gotta be strong. Can't let them see weakness. I can't afford to make myself vulnerable. That's how you get hurt. Fuck, it feels good to just have somewhere to go, and someone to talk to about everything, though. Her body quaked slightly as she fought to stem the tide, and she only looked back to Yui when she felt her coworker gently squeezing her hand.
"Ranko, it's okay. You're okay now. You're safe here with us."
Ranko. The name she'd chosen so she could bury her male half, or at least try to. But Yui didn't know she'd ever been a boy. To Yui, she was just another girl. And girls were allowed to cry.
Ranma clung to her new friend's arm, and the dam broke.
Hey, friends! I hate to put the posting schedule under threat so soon after starting, but I'm directly in the path of Hurricane Milton here in the Orlando area. We're situated as safely as we can be, but interruptions to power and internet are very possible. I am hopeful that our schedule for Thursday and beyond will remain intact, and I will keep it if there is any possible way to do so, even if I have to try and find some public Wi-Fi somewhere, but at this point predicting what's going to happen is hard. All I can do is hope for the best. I'll see you all on the other side of it. <3
