"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Ariel's hands flashed over the array of gear crammed onto the mica counter of the control booth as he frantically tried to catch up with the performers on stage. "Video… loaded! Lasers…" He lurched over in his chair almost enough to fall out of it, flicking a switch on his far left upward with a distinctive clack. "... coming up! Spots, light 'em up! Stay on Ranko! Follow her no matter what! Masa, where the hell's my pyro?!"
"Na! Na-na, na! Na, na-na! Not yours!" Hitomi sang a bit tentatively, shrugging at her girlfriend with bewildered eyes. Like the rest of the performers, she had not expected to continue the show after Ariel had made the determination to cancel the final song.
Masaki Tabata began snapping the plastic safety caps over his control board's switches to their ready positions. "Keep your pants on, brother. I'm locked in with ya. We got this, Ari. Deep breath."
"I'm fine! Just worry about your own sh…"
Masa reached over Ariel's right forearm, flicking a switch on his partner's audio console downward.
The audio technician fell silent, blinking as he realized what Masa had done. Until the switch had been toggled, Ariel's entire panicked flurry of directives had been broadcasting into the headsets of all nine of the performers on stage.
"... thanks." he muttered after a long moment.
Crash and Shinji's instruments thrummed to life, taking their cues from the unexpected vocals.
In the front row, Mei's hand flew to her face to cover her mouth. "I don't like that look in her eyes," she said, leaning over to Ayako in a bid to be heard over the music and the crowd noise. "I can't tell if she's about to cry again, or about to rip somebody's head off."
"I guess you thought that if you followed me around, then, I'd give in to you?! I probably should tell ya straight: I'm REALLY NOT that into you! The way you drive me nuts on stage is gettin' kinda scary, so I'm here to send the message to you clearly, and in STEREO!"
A sequence of orange, red, and yellow flashes of light exploded behind the performer. In that moment, something seemed to transform in her, and the facsimile of the school uniform she wore somehow subtly changed in its meaning. Whereas moments before, she had looked like a vulnerable child, now, there was an icy fury in her eyes reminiscent of a magical girl from a manga, standing alone against the forces of evil.
"You must see how I look, and think that I'm a perfect angel, 'cause, you didn't seem concerned that, when I'm mad…"
Ranko launched herself into the air, stomping down hard with both of her feet mere millimeters from Sanyo's nose. "... I'M FUCKING DANGEROUS!"
She split away from Sanyo, rushing to a position less than a meter from the front edge of the stage. Her cold stare locked on the eyes of Kichirou Kondo, and her voice calmed from the near-scream at which she had uttered the previous line. Something about the softer tone made it all the more resolute, and all the more dripping with peril and contempt.
"You wanna be the guy for me?! Oh, man! You must be jokin'."
Ranko, I know, and you know I know.
And the sooner you admit the fact that I own your ass,
the smoother this whole thing is going to go for both of us.
Ranko shook her head, trying to expel the memory of Kondo's taunting from the night before from her mind. Not now. Focus, damn it.
"Masa, don't do it!" Ariel exclaimed, sitting forward in his seat. "She's too close!"
His fellow technician rose to his feet, carefully analyzing Ranko's position on the stage. "It's gonna be alright. She knows where she is." Masa's hand reached for the control board.
"If I feel your fingers on my ass again…"
A burst of flame belched from each of the nine emitters mounted to the front edge of the stage, launching columns of orange fire nearly three meters into the sky. The third from the right blasted upward close enough to the singer that she could have interrupted it with her hand, obscuring her from the view of the record executive. In the dancing inferno, Kondo's face seemed to change in her mind's eye until it more closely resembled that of Takao Tashima.
I said, take your hands off of me. Please.
Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, girl?!
She waited to deliver the last line of the verse until the flame had gone out, and she stepped forward through its residual heat as if the fire had coughed her up out of hell.
"... they'll wind up BROKEN!"
Ranko made her way slowly toward the mock bedroom that had remained set up on the back left corner of the stage since the performance of There Are No Words, where Utaru awaited her on the bed. The video board displayed the wall of the apartment in the Phoenix, with a torrent of rain visible through the open window. There was a slight wobble in her step. Her mind was consumed with blurry flashes. Lance's face. Crash catching her as she fell. A pool table. A man's face she couldn't quite make out through the mental fog, sneering at her. Her skin tingled with the psychosomatic memory of her nerves firing at full blast for reasons she couldn't quite recall, and the faint taste of anise lingered on the back of her tongue.
"Hey, what's the matter, babe?" Utaru reached up from the bed, stroking Ranko's arm. You're supposed to sit down, Ranko.
The redhead yanked her arm back, a bewildered look of terror in her eyes.
Somebody put something in your drink last night, Ranko.
He didn't care about the game.
He was trying to… hurt you.
"L… leave me ALONE!" she screamed, backing away slowly from the bed as the memory of Crash's words ricocheted around in her consciousness.
Utaru winced at the stronger-than-scripted response. "C'mon," he urged calmly. "What's going on?"
Ranko opened her mouth, but no words would come.
A loud crack split the air in the packed arena, and the [apartment window on the video screen flashed with the flicker of lightning. Ranko jumped in startled shock as the peal of thunder shook the stage floor beneath her. She emitted a loud yelp. Her frantic eyes darted around the stage as if trying to reorient herself to reality after waking suddenly from a nightmare.
"Would you please just talk to me?!" Utaru urged from the bed. Whatever was going on in Ranko's head, he hoped that sticking to the familiar script would allow her to recenter herself on the performance.
Crash strummed his guitar, and the first chord of Sneak pounded through the speakers. C'mon, Ranko, he thought as the audience erupted in a new wave of deafening cheers, watching the songstress closely in his concern. You started this. Now we have to finish it.
After hundreds, if not thousands, of performances, the bubblegum pop beat was ingrained in Ranko's brain, and it was almost an autonomic response for her to sing along with it.
"You say… you're not… sorry that we're lovers, babe. Why'd you… hide me… underneath the covers, babe?!"
Ranko stalked away from the bed, a yawning depth of dissociation still present in her eyes. As she'd missed her cue to do so, Utaru reached down and pulled up the duvet cover, allowing the crowd to see Hitomi and Emi lying on the stage floor beneath it.
"You… tell… me… I… don't have any flaws, but then… why's my stuff still locked up in your closet, then?!" Ranko continued.
I am wanted.
I have worth.
I have people who care about me.
I am wanted.
I have worth…
I have…
The singer's mind again fled into the past. Ranko sat alone on her bed, staring at a small clearing in the layer of dust on the wooden top of her dresser. Any other day, there would have been a heart-shaped photo frame in the empty spot, displaying a Polaroid photo of herself and Akane. But, on that day, she had come home from work to find it missing, because Akane had hidden her things to conceal their relationship from her sister Kasumi. It had been the impetus for Ranko to call Crash, and ask him to begin composing the music for Sneak.
Utaru slid off of the bed, rushing over to Ranko's side. Fuck, this is a mess. Ranko, what's the matter with you?! He reached out for her as if he intended to pull her into a hug from behind. The choreography, as it had been performed thirty-four times, called for Ranko to turn and stop him with an extended arm, so he was surprised when his torso slammed hard into her back. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around the slender redhead. She's clearly out of it. Maybe she does just need a hug.
Ranko's eyes went wide as she was grabbed from behind. As Akane watched from backstage, she swallowed hard. She knew Ranko well enough to know that it was not surprise that was evident in her lover's face; it was panic. Please pull yourself together, Ranko. Please. You're really scaring me out there.
Let me go! LET ME GO!
The leering, lecherous face of Mikado Sanzenin flashed through Ranko's mind as she struggled to yank her arms free of Utaru's grasp. She finally did, wriggling out of his grasp. The sudden jerk backward threw her off balance on her heels, and the rush of adrenaline from the sensation of falling was enough to snap her mind back into the present.
What the fuck is wrong with you, girl?! Shinji glared at the disoriented redhead from behind his bass guitar. If you couldn't get through this, you shouldn't have done it. Put your fucking big girl panties on already, damn it!
"You tell everybody that there's no one here, and lock the door, and touch me, and it sends me to the stratosphere," Ranko sang, but in an emotionless voice. Her head swiveled left and right, scanning the Tokyo Dome as if she were not entirely sure where she was even standing.
"I don't understand the need for this mystique. If I'm so good for you, why do you sneak?"
You've gotta sell it. To everybody.
I know it's hard, and I know it's not fair, but it's reality.
Ranko shuddered as her lost friend's voice echoed through her mind again. As Hitomi and Emi began the chorus from their position under the bed in the back corner of the stage, however, Ranko's mind remained in the memory - this time, recalling how she had replied to Ken's words.
I just… I'm so tired of hiding who I am.
I'm only here in the first place because I was tired of being ashamed of who I am,
and now, I'm afraid it's never going to end.
Hitomi and Emi finished the first chorus without Ranko's participation, and the music came to a stop as planned with a loud rock squeal from Crash's guitar. The sharp sound pulled Ranko back into the present again. Ranko blinked hard as her thoughts returned to the present. She looked around the stage, a shaken disorientation evident in her eyes. It reminded Crash of the look on her face when she'd woken up after being drugged in Bangkok, and he did not like it in the least.
We can finish this, Ran-chan. Together, Crash pleaded in his thoughts. Just focus for a few more minutes. I know you're hurting. I know you're holding yourself together with chewing gum and paper clips. We all are. Just stick with us for a few more minutes, please. We're almost done. Take a deep breath.
Ranko gulped hard, shaking her head. I missed the whole chorus. Fuck! I'm totally blowing it up here! Why can't I get out of my own fucking head?! However forcefully she admonished herself, however, it was not helping her emotional stage. In fact, quite the contrary - it only quickened her heartbeat further.
Sanyo began to approach her to begin the next transition, but Ranko's eyes were focused over his shoulder, at the sliver of a gap in the black velvet curtain. She saw Akane watching from behind the curtain. Her lover looked positively frantic with worry.
Akane made a limp fist, rubbing the back of it with three circular motions of her opposite hand. It broke her heart that she could not do more to support her partner, but she forced a reassuring smile onto her face. At least I can give her that, she thought.
Get up, little phoenix. Time to rise.
With the memory of Akane's words echoing in her mind, and the sound of the crowd roaring her name, Ranko seemed to take on a measure of renewed strength. She straightened her back, doing her best to return Akane's smile.
What the hell is wrong with that girl?! Kichirou Kondo thought, scowling as he adjusted his weight in his seat. She's ruining the finale. This is entirely unacceptable.
Ranko glimpsed the disapproval in the executive's glare, and for a second, she forgot to breathe. Did he see her? Oh, gods… She snapped her head to her right, denying Kondo the pleasure of seeing the terror that was plainly evident on her face. Instead, she focused her attention on Soun Tendo. His stoic strength had calmed her nerves many times, and she hoped the sight of her father would do so again. Instead, however, her mind clouded with another memory. She saw herself, in her favorite white lace sundress, on her knees in the Tendo dining room, looking up into her future father-in-law's stern gaze as she spoke.
It doesn't matter if I ended up a boy, or a girl, or a mouse, or a basketball.
I am going to love your daughter until the sun burns out, sir.
"There you are!" Sanyo waved to Ranko as he approached her, having taken longer to reach her given that she was not on her mark. He reached out for her shoulder, gripping it firmly.
Don't touch me! Ranko's mind screamed as she instinctively stepped forward out of his grasp. Don't touch… oh, shit! Not Yours, Don't Touch!
"I'm gonna tell you ONE more time, and maybe I'll get through to you, 'cause, it's painfully obvious - you DON'T know who you're talking to!" The words rocketed from Ranko's tongue with an urgency as she threw herself back into the song at the last possible instant in order to keep the beat.
That's it, baby, Akane coaxed silently. You can do it.
I told you last time - if you ever laid your hands on me or someone I love again...
"He thinks he can just corner me on stage and get my kisses…" Ranko sang, shaking her head forcefully in an effort to eject the image of Mikado Sanzenin from her mind. "But you're just the type'a guy who tries to hit the floor…"
The redhead winced as the memory of her final day at the Tashima Talent Agency continued burning its way through her mind. She recalled collapsing to the floor in a heap after Takao Tashima had backhanded her for pulling his hands off of her.
"... and misses!" Shinji bellowed into his microphone in his deep, thundering bass voice. Ranko failed to join him in the final two words as planned.
"I honestly can say, I've never met someone more lame than you. It's pretty sad when Super Mario's got way more game than you!"
Emi rushed up as Ranko finished her line, curling her arm around Ranko's waist from behind. While the touch was a planned part of the choreography, she hugged her friend as tightly as she could with one arm. "I think that you should take a beat," she sang.
"Examine your priorities!" added Hitomi as she joined her partner at Ranko's side, squeezing her tight as well. We're with you, Ranko. Buck up, now.
"Buy tickets for the next one if you're trying to see more of me, 'cause…"
All three girls turned on their heels to face the crowd. A loud whoosh split the air as all nine emitters mounted to the front of the stage blasted columns of flame three meters into the air.
"I know that you want me, boy! I un-der-stand! But I'm gonna have to ask you, boy, to…"
"WATCH! YOUR! HANDS!" roared the crowd alongside the three singers. Despite Ranko's struggles to maintain the usual precision of her performances, the audience was no less excited to participate in the encore that would conclude the show - and, indeed, the entire Wildfire Tour.
"You should know by now, that isn't so polite… to… do! Keep your fingers off'a things that don't belong! To! You!"
Ranko's head whipped around, but before it had swiveled around far enough to bring Sanyo back into her field of vision, she caught another glimpse of Kichirou Kondo's sneering face.
You've got a secret, and he knows it - or at least, he's pretty sure he does.
And, in his mind, that gives him power over you.
Ranko stomped her foot down on the stage floor as another blast of flame erupted from the front edge of the stage. The hatred in her stare as she beheld the record executive could not have burned hotter if she had been that guy from Hoshi's X-Men comics that had the laser beams in his eyes.
"NO, I NEVER REALLY LIKED YOU THAT MUCH!"
Ranko raised her arms, almost out of breath from her furious scream. Forty-five thousand Firebirds accepted her unspoken command. "NOT YOURS!" they screamed in one voice all around the nonplussed executive. "DON'T TOUCH!"
The spotlights trailed to the back center of the stage, where Crash, Shinji, and Utaru were huddled in conversation.
"Any of you got plans tonight, for Christmas?" Shinji asked, running his hands through his gel-slicked black hair as he spoke.
In the darkness, Emi switched off her microphone, hurrying to Ranko's side. "Hey. You gonna get with us here?! You're missing cues like crazy."
Ranko slowly reached for the battery pack clipped to her waistband before answering, switching it off. "I'm sorry. I'm tryin', Ems. I swear. I… I don't know what the heck's wrong with me. I just k… keep… shit!" Her hand flew back to her waistband as Crash's guitar reignited with the rhythm of Sneak, reactivating her microphone just in time for her voice to rejoin the song.
"You… tell… me… you've… started hearin' wedding bells. Still, your friends try to hook you up with someone else. When you talk to them, it's like you don't know I'm alive."
The young singer frowned, reaching up and grabbing her temples with both of her hands. Get out of my fucking head! She tried desperately to center her focus on the song, and not on the mental image of Akane ignoring her at her first cheerleading performance while Fumiko Kanda introduced Akane to her brother Eiji at the center line of the Yusue High basketball court.
"The second that they look away, you push me into overdrive. I can't help it, fallin' underneath your spell. You're the best at kiss, and kiss, and never tell. We're livin' in a game of hide and seek."
You can't hide out here forever.
You're too great. Loved by too many people.
The world needs Ranko Tendo.
Ranko wiped a tear from the corner of her eye as Akane's words in the wilderness outside Chengdu ricocheted through her brain like a nuclear-powered ping-pong ball.
Then I wish like hell it could accept Ranko Tendo, the singer recalled replying. The sentiment had only grown since. I wish like hell it didn't do this to people like me. Like Ken. Her upper lip quivered at the thought of her lost friend. It's not fair!
"If she's so good for you, why do you sneak?" asked Emi and Hitomi in song.
I want you to be a symbol of hope for every girl out there who thinks
what's broken in them can't be fixed.
"Sneak, baby! Sneak, baby! No one knows how many nights I've lay here beggin' you to hold me close!" Ranko willed a halfhearted smile onto her lips, trying to ignore her mother's voice speaking to her through her memories.
I want girls none of us will ever meet, in cities whose names we can barely pronounce,
to know they can walk out of the fire stronger than they went in, like Ranko Tendo did.
That's a power only you possess, baby.
I can do it with one girl at a time, if I'm very lucky.
You can do it with stadiums full.
"Sneak, baby! Sneak, baby! Tell those lies, and don't admit the way my body leaves ya hypnotized…"
That is a legacy you can leave that will last forever, Ranko.
But you've got to be brave enough to do it.
"Hey! How's it goin', Ranko?" Sanyo waved as he jogged up to join Ranko at center stage, now sporting a high school uniform featuring a blue jacket and slacks, a white shirt, and a red necktie.
Ranko turned to face the new speaker, but through the dust kicked up by the earthquake of emotions she was experiencing, she did not immediately recognize him. The square-jawed dancer, dressed as he was, was the spitting image of another boy she'd once known in her mind's eye.
My name is Saburo Kimura, grade twelve.
Captain of the Yusue wrestling team, and your new boyfriend.
"Leave me alone!" Ranko shouted at the approaching young man.
I'm the king of this castle.
I do whatever the hell I want around here, and I get whatever I want.
Better get used to it, honey.
Ranko slowly backed away from Sanyo as he neared, and there was a terror in her eyes that rocked Hana Takahashi back in her seat. Hana covered her mouth with her hands, gasping as the extent of her daughter's distress made itself all the plainer. "Ranko…"
"She's gonna be fine, Hannie. She's one hell of an actress, is all." Ito chuckled, clapping the top of Hana's thigh with his left hand. "Relax."
"No, Papa… She's good, but…" As the look in Ranko's eyes morphed from fear to abject fury, Hana's hand fell from her lips, gripping her father's hand as tightly as she dared given his frail condition. "... she's not that good."
"I understand your thinkin', dude! You're diggin' my aesthetic. But, your problem is, your vibe is comin' off as just… pathetic!" Ranko swiped at the boy with her arm as the sound of a bullwhip snapped through the speakers, causing Sanyo to step back out of range before he was struck.
Cringing as Sanyo narrowly avoided Ranko's hand, Norio reached for the mute button of his headset. "Uhhh… Ari?! Are you… seeing this?!"
Akane, who had stepped away from the gap in the curtain to check on Ryo, snapped her head up as Norio spoke. She sprung up from the amplifier case on which she sat, rushing to the corner of the stage again.
"I'm too hot for you to handle," Ranko rapped, molten lava burning in her ice blue eyes as she stalked after the young man on the stage. "Should've read the warning label. Forget being unsexy; what you're doing is unstable!"
"I'm watching," Ariel replied, flashing a worried glance at Masa. "Tell Utaru to try to ask her what's going on between verses, if he can." Please, Ranko, Ariel pleaded in his mind. Let's just get out of here in one piece. Five more minutes.
"The fact you think you're even in her league is just adorable," Hitomi intoned. There was a frenzied concern in her eyes as she backed Sanyo away from Ranko.
"I've seen you at your best, and boy, your best is fucking HORRI…" Ranko shouted. Her voice trailed off before she finished the rhyme, her angry scowl seeming to soften. Her eyes widened, and she took a half-stumbled step back as well.
Ranko reached up to her scalp, clutching one of her crimson pigtails in each of her fists and pulling hard. Please stop… please… get out of my head…
What the fuck is wrong with that airhead?! Kichirou Kondo stood from his seat, a disgusted urgency in his scowl. I'm going to deal with this shit right now.
The redhead gasped as she saw Kondo rise, her pulse thundering in her temples. She was entirely unaware of Hitomi and Emi finishing the verse for her, and she slammed her eyes shut. Get out of my head… get out… leave me alone… please…
Ranko, I know, and you know I know.
And the sooner you admit the fact that I own your ass,
the smoother this whole thing is going to go for both of us.
Please… the exhausted, terrified singer pleaded silently with the demons in her subconscious mind.
You've got a secret, and he knows it - or at least, he's pretty sure he does.
And, in his mind, that gives him power over you.
Ranko's eyes snapped open as she felt Hitomi's hand on hers. She looked up just as Hitomi pointed her toward the bedroom set, reminding her of her cue for the subsequent verse of Sneak. She nodded silently, a vacant pallor of fog in her eyes as she slowly trudged her way to the back left corner of the stage. Memory after memory thundered through her skull with every step she took.
I just… I'm so tired of hiding who I am.
I'm only here in the first place because I was tired of being ashamed of who I am,
and now, I'm afraid it's never going to end.
I want you to be a symbol of hope for every girl out there who thinks
what's broken in them can't be fixed.
Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, girl?!
It doesn't matter if I ended up a boy, or a girl, or a mouse, or a basketball.
I am going to love your daughter until the sun burns out, sir.
You've gotta sell it. To everybody.
I know it's hard, and I know it's not fair, but it's reality.
Utaru sighed, rolling his eyes. Damn it, Ranko! You're supposed to get on the bed. He glanced at the singer, who stood frozen in place two steps away from the mattress. Come on, he thought as he slid off the bed to his feet. Wake the fuck up, girl! He walked over to Ranko, reaching out for her arm.
Somebody put something in your drink last night, Ranko.
He didn't care about the game.
He was trying to… hurt you.
I said, take your hands off of me. Please.
I told you last time - if you ever laid your hands on me or someone I love again…
Ranko's eyes snapped open as a loud screeeeee of audio feedback split the arena. An anguished groan rose from the crowd, many of them covering their ears with their hands in a bid to block out the sound. She scanned the stage, trying to identify the source of the problem. Her gasp was carried through her microphone as she found it. Utaru lay in a heap on the stage floor a few meters from where she stood, crumpled alongside an overturned amplifier at Crash's feet. Did… did I… oh my gods… what did I…
Hmm! Not bad form, kid! Could have widened your stance a little more on the throw, but, I suppose I never taught you how to do it in stilettos, Genma observed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. But the real question is… why did you do it? The boy hardly seemed like a threat, whatever the song said.
"Oh, shit!" Ariel stood forcefully enough to send his wheeled office chair skittering to the concrete floor behind him. He all but dove over his console, muting the microphone broadcasting the offending tone throughout the Tokyo Dome.
Shinji released his instrument, letting it hang from the strap over his chest. "The FUCK?!" His invective carried through his microphone as Crash leaned down to help Utaru to his feet.
Well, that's not good, Nabiki thought, her forehead drooping into her palm. I should have made the call and shut her down. I thought you were tough enough to get through this, Ranko. Shit. She craned her neck to look at the stunned Firebirds seated behind her, cringing at their poleaxed expressions. Oh, hell. This is not good.
"Uh-oh!" Ukyo pointed to her right, clapping Yui on the shoulder in the seat in front of her to get her attention. "Incoming dickhead!"
Yui turned her head in the indicated direction, the shock and worry on her face at Ranko's outburst giving way to rage as she saw Kondo stalking angrily through the aisle between the front row and the edge of the stage. He was heading toward the staircase at the left side of the stage - avoiding the closer one on the right where Lance Riker was stationed.
"Fucking BITCH thinks she's going to fuck up MY sho…. OWWWWWW!!" Kondo collapsed to the concrete, clutching at his left leg through the tear in his wrinkled slacks as they began to turn deep maroon with the spreading flow of blood.
"Oh, my goodness! I'm so sorry!" Ito Ganawa gasped, removing his hand from the lever on the side of his wheelchair that extended the foot pedals to cover his mouth. "These rental wheelchairs are so damned finicky! Are you alright, sir?!" A shred of torn gray nylon still hung from the corner of the right pedal of his chair. "Please, forgive an old man?"
"GAAAH! Stupid old… arghh!" Kondo roared, clamoring to his feet. He began hobbling back toward his seat, leaning on the front edge of the stage as he limped along to avoid putting weight on his damaged leg.
Yui turned to Ito, an incredulous smirk on her face. It only worsened when Ito made eye contact with her, grinning and flashing his favorite granddaughter a mischievous wink.
"Uhhh, Ranko?" Ariel slumped back into his chair, massaging his temples. They don't make aspirins big enough for this shit. "Is there, by any luck or chance, any particular reason you felt compelled to chuck our backup dancer halfway to Sendai in the middle of the fucking encore?"
"I… I…" Ranko slowly backed away from Utaru as Crash helped steady the performer on his feet. She looked as if she'd seen a ghost, and the ghost was brandishing a rocket launcher. "I'm sorry… I…"
She turned her head away from Utaru, her eyes welling with shame. I lost control. Like with Mikado. I wasn't even fucking here. Her eyes fell on the back left corner of the stage, just beyond the bedroom set where she'd missed her cue. Behind it, the black velvet curtain had been partially withdrawn. Akane, Ryo and Norio watched her, transfixed in their shared alarm.
Ranko lowered her head, her hands trembling harder than they had in the negative-two-degree deep chill of Jamsil Baseball Stadium in Seoul four evenings prior. There was a taste of bile in the back of her throat that had begun when she made eye contact with Ryo, and it had only worsened when she saw the mortified shock - and the disappointment - that Akane wore like a funeral mask.
Just… seeing that look in Ryo's eyes, knowing that Ken died and he wasn't there.
It's hollowing him out.
He was a world away, because nobody knew they were together.
I just keep thinking about that night in Thailand.
If Lance hadn't seen that guy mess with my drink… that could have been you.
How COULD you?! You promised me you'd protect her, Crash!
I TRUSTED you with her! And, now, I'll never get to…
"I… I'm s-sorry. I c…" Ranko hung her head, shaking it softly as she fought back another volley of tears. Her voice was barely a whimper, though her sensitive headset microphone carried it without difficulty. "I c-c… can't… d-do this an-anym-more…"
What the hell are you doing, Ranko?! You're going to… Shinji all but sprinted to the back corner of the stage behind his position, letting his bass swing lazily from the padded strap across his torso. He reached out forcefully, snatching the headset from Kazuki's bald head as he knew it was not piped into the main feed. "Ari, she's blowing EVERYTHING!" he shouted into the foam-covered receiver, not even waiting until he had replaced his own headset with it to do so. "DO something!"
"Ranko, please, you've gotta…" Ariel coaxed softly. He was not sure if the disoriented, shattered girl on the stage was even conscious that he was speaking. "Take a breath."
The portly reporter that had previously argued with Genma shot him a distrusting glare. Of forty-seven people crammed into the Tokyo Dome press box, the unfamiliar man with the strange pair of gloves was the only one not jotting Ranko's words down on a stenography pad as quickly as the ink would flow from a ballpoint pen. Rather, the old man just sat forward in his seat, his hands folded and dangling between his knees, watching the normally-rambunctious redhead crumbling at center stage with a measure of sadness and worry in his countenance.
"I just… I can't let it h-hap… not like Ken. I can't. I w… I w-won't."
Ranko shook her head, grasping at the roots of her beribboned pigtails again. "He was a w-world away, and he was alone…" Her stilted, sniffling staccato became a wail of despair. "He died all alone because no one knew… because he couldn't s… he couldn't t-tell an-any…"
You've gotta sell it. To everybody.
I know it's hard, and I know it's not fair, but it's reality.
I just… I'm so tired of hiding who I am.
I'm only here in the first place because I was tired of being ashamed of who I am,
and now, I'm afraid it's never going to end.
It doesn't matter if I ended up a boy, or a girl, or a mouse, or a basketball.
I am going to love your daughter until the sun burns out, sir.
You've got a secret, and he knows it - or at least, he's pretty sure he does.
And, in his mind, that gives him power over you.
Hana stood, her eyes locked on her youngest daughter's. Ranko had never seen such profound love displayed with such desperate urgency. Wait, she recalled. I did, once. Ranko closed her eyes, remembering the murky silhouette of a hospital room, an endless throbbing in her skull, and Hana sobbing at the foot of the bed.
But you will NOT make me bury you! I will NOT lose one of my girls!
I can't! I refuse!
"ARIEL! FOR THE LOVE OF… CUT HER FUCKING MIC!" Shinji roared into Kaz's headset. "She's ruining everything!"
I know. Ariel sighed sadly, trying to will his hand to stop shaking as he reached for his control board. I'm so sorry.
"You've gotta sh…"
The Australian's hand nudged the toggle switch at his fingertips to its off position, and Shinji's voice abruptly cut off in his ears.
Ranko trembled in place. Her mind was almost no longer conscious of the forty-five thousand Firebirds hanging on her every mewling word, or the stage, or the ten performers on stage with her. In the theater of her memories, Ranko stood in an open steppe plain, the skyline of Chengdu visible through a distant morning haze. Akane squeezed her hand. Ranko took a deep breath, packing her lungs before expelling a quartet of words that spread across the dry grass like a forest fire.
I LOVE AKANE TENDO!
Kumiko shot out of her seat. "RANKO!" she shouted, waiting until the shell-shocked songstress turned her head in the direction of the shout to spy her high school classmate in the second row. Once she had, Kumiko nodded her head in urgent affirmation. Do it, girl. Come on. The brunette scratched at the air with the rigidly-splayed fingers of her right hand as if she were a cat attacking a pigeon. Kondo, you messed with the cat. You get the claws. Do it, Ranko!
I want you to be a symbol of hope for every girl out there who thinks
what's broken in them can't be fixed.
I want girls none of us will ever meet, in cities whose names we can barely pronounce,
to know they can walk out of the fire stronger than they went in, like Ranko Tendo did.
That's a power only you possess, baby.
I can do it with one girl at a time, if I'm very lucky.
You can do it with stadiums full.
That is a legacy you can leave that will last forever, Ranko.
But you've got to be brave enough to do it.
"Ranko, STOP!" Shinji pleaded, trying to rush her position at center stage. "PLEASE!" He stopped short when Zoe rose from the drum set that had once belonged to Ken Hirata, driving their stiff arm forward until their hand pushed back on Shinji's sternum through the strap of his bass guitar.
"Mate, no." Zoe said, a quiet, disaffected distance in their voice that could only be described as pity. Their eyes darted between the rampaging bassist and the slowly disintegrating vocalist that were two of their dearest friends. "It's her life."
Ranko turned her head to the left corner of the stage. Crash bit his lower lip, looking as if he, too, was seconds from erupting in tears. There was a question in his best friend's eyes, and he answered it with a single slow nod of resignation.
You take everything you've got in here, and put it in here.
All the good, all the bad, everything.
You get up there and you sing your damned heart out, girl.
You shake this place so fucking hard, people in France start wondering
who pissed Ranko Tendo off.
Ranko's eyes moved left, scanning past him to the gap between the curtain and the steel supports holding up the trusses suspended over the stage. The sight of Ryo softly weeping at her mention of Ken's death slashed at the singer's heart like a katana dripping with acid.
Don't… don't let them forget about him?
Her head turned just a bit more, and her eyes locked with Akane's. Ranko's beloved partner made a limp fist, stroking the back of it in three circular motions. The fear and the disappointment that Ranko had seen on Akane's face a moment earlier were gone. In its place, only one thing remained - the thing that Ranko Tendo had seen in Akane's eyes every moment since the moment the pair had reconnected in the alley behind the Phoenix on another cold December night:
Pure, radiant, furious, unrelenting, unconditional, boundless love.
Get up, little phoenix. Time to rise.
Ranko's cheeks ran with such a torrent of tears that she could barely make out her lover's face through the salty deluge. "Ak… Akane, l-l-look," she whimpered through her racking sobs. She gestured with her left arm to the stone-silent crowd packing the Tokyo Dome. There were more than forty-five thousand souls crammed into the four-year-old arena, and Ranko doubted more than ten of them were breathing. "All my f-f-friends c-came to see me. Ff-ff–for c-c-Chris…. mas."
A thin wisp of a smile cracked Akane's stone-faced countenance as Ranko raised her right arm, reaching out for the love of her life.
"C-cou-could you come out here for a s-second, p-p-p… please?"
"AKANE, NO!" Shinji shouted over Zoe's shoulder, restrained though he was from closing the distance to Akane's side of the stage by the drummer's stiff forearm.
"I…" Ranko swallowed hard, wiping her tears from her cheeks on the back of her wrist. Heart of a Dragon. Heart of a Dragon. This is for you, Ken.
For the first time in nearly a half hour, Akane saw the faintest whisper of a smile forming on the face of the woman she loved.
"I w-would… re… r-really like for… for them to m-m-meet… my… w-wife."
~~~ END BOOK XIII ~~~
~~~ END PHOENIX ODYSSEY ~~~
~~~ The Phoenix Saga will conclude in Part IV: PHOENIX UNCHAINED ~~~