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5.14% The Phoenix Saga / Chapter 19: Filling in the Blanks

Capítulo 19: Filling in the Blanks

Ranko leaned on the wall, completing a tentative lap around her bedroom. Finally, she could walk well enough that she felt like she could brave the stairs. Last night had been the first time she'd been alone since the attack; she had finally sent Mei home so she could get some sleep. She loved Mei to death, but boy, that girl could talk up a storm.
She pulled on her gi pants and a pink T-shirt bearing the logo of one of the many idol groups she'd started to cover in her singing, slipping on her shoes and gingerly making her way down the steps to the bar below. She explored the back room, not yet heading for the front of the house, and finding that she was alone. As she passed Hana's office, she found the door uncharacteristically open. She stepped in, checking to see if anyone was present.
As she turned to leave, she noticed a pile of video cassettes atop a dented and rusty file cabinet. Each had a date written on the label in Hana's handwriting. She hadn't been in here many times, but Hana had once told her that there were security cameras in the bar that recorded everything. She tried to will herself to walk out of the room. She knew it would betray Hana's confidence, but she had to know.
She rifled through the tapes, finding the one with Wednesday's date and popping it into the VCR that was integrated into the tiny black-and-white monitor atop the file cabinet. She shifted aside some of the clutter that buried the ragged red leather couch along the back wall, sitting down and pressing fast-forward on the remote control. She watched as the evening zoomed past her eyes at sixteen times normal speed, pausing it when she caught a glimpse of the brute taking her by the throat. She steeled her nerves and pressed play.
There was no audio in the recording, but Ranko heard the events in her mind as they replayed in front of her eyes. The guy grabbing her necklace. Her torn shirt. The slap. She winced at the thought that she wasn't just hit, but that the guy had actually slapped her, like… well, like a girl. She saw herself stagger back and crash into the bartop. Both of her attackers leered over her, and the rest of the patrons in the bar, who had given the altercation a wide berth, were starting to make for the exits.
And then, there it was - a flash of white smoke. She knew she'd seen it! She traced the smoke back to its source, and found Hana's image, standing behind the bar, discharging a fire extinguisher in the eyes of the two huge men. They staggered back, and lights began to flash through the windows – Ranko guessed that would be the police. As the brutes backed away and the bar patrons continued running for the exits, Yui had vaulted over the bar top, kneeling over Ranko. She lifted Ranko's head in her arms and cradled it gently, bending herself over Ranko's unconscious form. As the crowd stampeded past, Yui shielded Ranko's body with her own and ensured no one stepped on her as they made their escape. She caught glimpses of Mei and Izumi darting through the crowd, Mei finally dragging someone back toward Ranko by the hand. That must have been the doctor. She smiled weakly in recognition - it was Daijo, the guy she'd signed her first autograph for.
A tear ran down her cheek as the rest of the encounter played out. She couldn't believe what she had seen. These four women, none of whom had a lick of training in martial arts, had stood up for her knowing they stood no chance to win and defended her anyway. Protected her. Saved her. Ranko wasn't especially used to being the one on the receiving end of such actions.
She saw a policeman walk by the window in the recording, with the man that had slapped her in handcuffs. She kept watching, waiting to see what happened to the other man, but she heard the front door of the bar opening. Quickly, she ejected the tape and returned it to its place, putting a blank tape back in the unit to capture today's recordings. She turned off the monitor, shuffled the mess on the couch, and stepped out of the office just in time to be seated on a stool when Yui walked through the saloon doors. "Oh hey! Look who's up! How are you feeling, hon?"
Ranko rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "Oh, morning, Yui. I'm okay. My head's still ringing a little, but nothing I can't handle. And I'm going a little crazy up there all this time."
Yui nodded. "I don't doubt it. Mama'll kill me if I put you to work, but how about you sit up front and keep me company?"
Ranko nodded. "I'd like that."
She pushed her way through the saloon doors, pulling a stool up close to the bar and sitting. Yui began slicing fruit for garnishes, just as she had done on her first day. Even though it had only been a few days, being in this room again felt surreal. She had to fight to keep the flashes of memory from the attack, now bolstered by what she'd seen in the video, from overcoming her senses in the present. As her eyes darted around the room, trying to anchor herself to her current surroundings, she noticed something different.
Off in the corner, the little stage was piled high with stuff. There were dozens of flower arrangements, small boxes that looked like they might contain candy, a few folded pieces of paper, and even a huge pink teddy bear that was almost as tall as Ranko. "What the hell's all that," she asked Yui.
Yui responded with a warm smile. "That, dear sister, is all for you. The people who were here that night - your adoring fans - came back to check on you, and they started leaving things for you when you hadn't come back. They've been worried about you. We haven't said anything publicly; we wanted to wait until you were back on your feet and let you decide if you even want to keep working here after all of that. But the gifts kept coming."
Ranko blushed furiously. She had fans? Like, people who actually cared about her and the fact that she'd been hurt? "Well, first things first. You're not getting rid of me that easy. I'm not the backing-down type."
Yui smiled. "I kind of figured you'd say something like that." She slipped off the stool carefully, approaching the stage with an almost tiptoe. Yui grinned - it looked quite a lot like Izumi did when she walked up to the Christmas tree.
She sat cross-legged on the floor at the foot of the stage, beginning to slowly dig through the pile. She had no idea what they would do with all of these flowers, but she pulled a particularly pretty white daisy out of one of the bundles and smelled it. She broke the stem off at about 7 centimeters, tucking it into her hair behind her right ear. Something about all of this - of having been protected, of having been fawned over, of having been vulnerable and come out the other side unbroken, of this huge pile of girly treasures - gave her an even greater comfort in her feminine skin than she'd previously known.
"It's a good look for you." Yui smiled, biting into one of the oranges she was cutting. Ranko began sorting through the pile, making a stack of candies and a pile of flowers. She opened the first of the notes, expecting it to be some gross declaration of love from some random dude, but instead found it to be a respectful note in the vein of wishing you a fast recovery. We can't wait to see you on stage again! The vast majority of the letters were similar in tone, though there was the occasional get better soon so I can take you on a date that got tossed aside. There was even one such letter from a girl, with a photo included. Ranko jokingly showed it to Yui. "What do you think, is she your type?"
Yui blushed and shook her head. "No, but if I could sing like you, I'd have girls lined up around the block." She sighed wistfully, imagining such a scenario.
The front door swung open, and Mei entered, Izumi in tow. "Oh! Hey Ran-chan! How you feeling?"
The redhead smiled, still sitting on the floor. "Better. Just sitting here going through all this loot." She couldn't help but giggle. She turned back to the pile, pulling the huge pink teddy bear out of the back. This was exactly the sort of stupid thing she'd always tried to win at the local fairs for Akane, a lifetime ago. Then, it had been some goofy gesture, usually to get Akane to stop pounding the crap out of him for who-knew-what reason, but now, she saw it with a different perspective. Its fur was soft, and it tickled a little as she ran her ever-so-sensitive fingers over it. She imagined it would make a nice pillow. She straightened the red ribbon tied around its neck. She wondered what to name it. And then she rolled her eyes. My gods, she thought to herself. I really have become a girl, haven't I?
Ranko stood carefully, propping the bear up in one of the booths. "I think I want to try and sing tonight."
Yui looked over at her, concerned. "Are you sure you're ready for that? You don't look especially steady on your feet."
Ranko bobbed her head gingerly. "Mei can help me pick something I can sing standing still, or even sitting down. But all these people cared enough to do all this for me. I want them to know I'm okay, or will be soon enough."
Yui nodded. "Alright, but two conditions. One, you gotta convince Mama when she gets here. And two, absolutely, positively no waiting tables tonight. You can sing, but the rest of the night your butt is in a chair, and if you touch one glass without drinking from it, I will kick your pretty little ass myself."
Ranko blushed. She didn't feel that she needed this much babying, but a part of her that was growing larger than she cared to admit felt special because they tried.
Izumi smiled, putting her arm around Ranko's shoulder. "I'm going to run back home for a minute then. If tonight is to be your triumphant return, you need an outfit that makes a statement."
Ranko blushed - she dared to wonder what Izumi would dress her in tonight, but she almost didn't care.
Mei started to pull Ranko toward the karaoke machine to pick songs, but Yui snapped her fingers. "Sorry, condition number three. Get some rest now while you can?" We'll get everything ready. I'll talk to Mama when she gets in. But for now, you, shoo."
"Yes, mother," Ranko said mockingly with a giggle, and gingerly made for the stairs.

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