“The slightest little touch, and I am hypnotized, just focused on how much I need you between my thighs. Whatever I was thinkin’, baby, now it’s gone, ‘cause babe, you turn me off every time you turn me on!”

A whoop rose from the half-empty dance floor of the Phoenix as Ranko leaned against the side wall, placing the sole of her right foot up on it with a bent knee and biting her lip suggestively as she looked out at the audience. The hem of her pleated pink skirt, with the twin white lines of piping around its lower edge, tickled the back of her left knee as it slipped a bit further up her right thigh. 

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that it was a slow, rainy Monday night at the Phoenix, as the stage was a Dapper Dragon short. Fortunately, Jake, audio production wizard that he was becoming, had been been able to isolate the percussion tracks from several of the group’s studio recordings and play them alongside the rest of the band’s live instruments to account for their missing drummer. 

“Uh-huh. I’ll tell her. Thanks, Ryo.” Sighing, Izumi pushed the green talk button on the beige cordless telephone in her hand, and it acknowledged the completion of its work with a sad little beep. She turned her eyes back up to the stage, where her little sister was, gods love her, trying desperately to milk just a little more excitement out of the half-capacity crowd with her most salacious song. With some of those moves, baby sister, you’re damn lucky Akane’s not here tonight. She might not appreciate you showing off quite that much of what belongs to her. 

“I’m ready and willing. Empty out my head. Take your time in filling… something else, instead! Whatever I was thinking, baby, now it’s gone, ‘cause babe, you turn me off every time you turn me on!” 

Her song finished, Ranko looked down from the stage as Izumi approached, breathless from her choreography. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her right wrist as she waited for her sister to reach the edge of the stage, sighing heavily when Izumi shook her head in the negative. 

“Okay, Phoenix, we’re gonna take five, and when I come back, we’re gonna get a little Sneaky up here, cool?” A smattering of cheers rose from the hundred-and-eighty-or-so bar patrons as the songstress removed her headset microphone and made her exit from the stage. Ranko was halfway down the three steps to the bar floor, Shinji and Crash right behind her, when Izumi met her there. “What’s the verdict, Iz?”

“Sorry, honey. No good. Ryo says he’s still down sick. Can’t keep anything down. So, it looks like you’re a quartet tonight again.” Izumi signed at the dismay in her sister’s eyes.

Scoffing, Shinji ruffled his spiky brown hair, expelling an arc of salty sweat from its frosted tips.  “Seriously? That dude needs to like, eat his damn veggies or something. Me and Crash had the same bug, and we were good in like a day and a half. I bet he just likes laying in bed having his boyfriend take care of him.” 

“Shinji Yokota! You be nice! I’m sure Ken would be here if he felt up to it!” The middle of the five Phoenix sisters rested both her fists on the hips of her yellow floral dress, glaring at Ranko’s bassist disapprovingly.

Ranko blushed, giggling at her friend’s admonishment. “Oh shit, dude! You just got full-named by Mama Bear Izumi. You’s in trou-ble!” 

“Whatever, Ranko.” Shinji shrugged with a good-natured laugh, sliding past his band’s lead vocalist and her sister on the steps to reach the bar room floor. “Izzi isn’t the first of you girls I’ve pissed off, and probably won’t be the last.” He chuckled, remembering his blue-haired ex-girlfriend as he watched her eldest sister Ayako carry a pizza out from the kitchen through the blue slatted saloon door and set it on the service bar counter. “I’m gonna go out back and burn one. Crash, you comin’?”

Ranko nodded to her blond best friend as he propped his guitar up in the little padded tripod stand behind him. “Go on, get outta here. I gotta talk to Iz a second anyway. Jake, what about you?”

The green-haired keyboardist looked up from the little makeshift audio station in the corner behind the VIP table. “Nah, I’m good. I wanna try to pull another drum iso or two, so we have a couple more song options for tonight. Any requests?”

Ranko shrugged, pulling on her black leather jacket. She felt like such a diva when she wore it, ever since Izumi had spelled out her name on the back of it with a few hundred white rhinestones prior to her concert at Tokyo Disneyland in July, but it beat being cold. The bar was warm enough despite the damp mid-November chill outside, but her red Phoenix staff tee shirt was drenched with sweat from dancing and the damp was creeping into her Cat’s-Tongue-heightened nerve endings. “You think you can get Demon? I mean, I know it’s a shitload of bass.”

Jake gave a bit of a shoulder shrug, but nodded. “I think so? I might need an extra few minutes, but I’ll give it a whack.”

“Thanks, Jake! Good luck!” Ranko waved to him as she followed her sister back to the service bar, sighing at the pizza still sitting on the counter. “One sec.” She snatched it up, and before Izumi could lodge her protest, Ranko had carried the cooling aluminum tray halfway to table sixteen. 

Four photos and an autograph later, Ranko padded back to the main bar counter, hopping up on one of the red vinyl-covered stool seats. She cringed as she noticed the wandering eyes of the middle-aged man on the stool to her right, adjusting her posture on her seat to allow her pleated skirt to cover more of her legs. 

“This is why you’re not supposed to run food anymore, Ranko. You can’t serve tables effectively if you gotta stop for a meet-and-greet every time you bring a refill, goofball.” Izumi sighed, handing her sister a cold glass of soda.

The redhead nodded, sucking appreciatively on the plastic straw protruding from the Collins glass in her hand. “I know, but… It’s so hard to leave things undone. You girls are fucking whipped, and I wanna help.”

Izumi reached across the bar counter, tucking a wisp of Ranko’s sweat-slick red hair behind her ear with a smile. “I know you do, honey. You’re so sweet. But you’re doing your job. It’s just, your job isn’t down here anymore. It’s up there, on stage. We’ll be alright. We just gotta get through another month or two, and after Aya has the baby, she said she’d come help more if she can.”

Ranko nodded grimly. “I know, I know. Just, you’re running yourself ragged dealing with Mioko, and Akane’s practically a zombie with school these days. Aya’s gonna come, sure, but you know having a newborn’s gonna kick her ass, too. And, if the tour happens, and me and Akane are gone for a while entirely, I just… I worry about you girls.”

“Well, don’t.” Izumi reached across the bar again, giving Ranko a playful, gentle nudge on her forearm with a loving smile. “The last time we had to put a Now Hiring sign up in that window, it worked out pretty great for us, so I’m confident. Hopefully we’ll find somebody to hire soon, and we can get them trained before you and Akane go all jet set on us. And I mean… as much as Mei’s got a new career goal every week, we ain’t getting rid of her anytime soon. And Yui… shit, they’re gonna bury her in this place one day, right next to Mama.”

The brunette sighed heavily. “Ranko, I know you don’t want to hear it, but… you won three fucking Japan Record Awards, you’re probably about to win two more, and your second album drops a week from now. I know this place is home for you, like it is for all of us, but… you’ve kind of outgrown the Phoenix, honey. You need to start worrying about the bigger things you have in front of you, little sister.”

Ranko shook her head forcefully, her dangly silver heart earrings sticking to her sweat-slick neck. “Not a chance. Like you said, this place is home. I was practically born here, Izzi - at least, the person I am now was. I don’t care if they ask me to open for Paula Abdul, the day I get back, I’ll be slinging Dragonfires right next to you and Yui. You’re not getting rid of me that easy. I love this place, and I love all of you. I always will.”

“Nobody says you can’t love it, Ranko, just that… it might not always be the best use of your time.” Izumi smiled warmly. “We can always teach another girl to refill drinks and bake pizzas, but you? The things you do on stage? The music you write? That’s one of a kind, Mrs. Tendo. Irreplaceable. And, speaking as a true Firebird, I don’t want to wait an extra two months to hear your third album because you were too busy delivering chicken wings to write songs!” Izumi giggled, taking Ranko’s empty glass and refilling it for her with the soda gun in the service well before returning it to her parched singer sister. “And besides, it’s not just the music. You’re gonna be our little college girl in another few months, too!”

Ranko blushed. The thought that she had somehow, despite everything, earned her way into a college still boggled her mind. It made her simultaneously proud beyond measure of all she’d achieved, and a little light-headed with embarrassment at the idea that she’d earned her chance for a college education not by her academic prowess, but with her talents as a cheerleader of all things. Gods, Ranma, you would have a stroke if you knew how far I’ve come in life just by setting fire to every limit you ever put on my existence as a girl. 

“Yeah, well, all of you worked here all through college, and Akane is doing it right now. I’ll manage, too.” Ranko smirked, her gaze falling on a faded scar at the base of her right palm as she lifted her soda glass to her lips again. “Hide your pizza ovens.”

“It’s not funny, kiddo.” Izumi sighed again. “Just think about it, okay? Please? We all want what’s best for you, Mama and all of us. Even if it’s not here.” Her face brightened into a smile. “But, speaking of your awards, I had an idea.”

Ranko giggled. “If it’s the thing Kaito suggested the other day, I think it’s great. He said he’s gonna make a little display case right behind the bar for the trophy things, so we can show ‘em off and everybody knows this bar is where Ranko and the Dapper Dragons come from.”

With a roll of her eyes, Izumi leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands and her elbows on the polyurethane-coated bar top. “Don’t you want to keep those, like, at your place? They’re yours. I’m sure the boys will be taking theirs home.”

“Nah,” Ranko said, sliding her again-empty glass across the bar. “I’ll keep the next set. And like I said, this is home. But anyway, what was your idea?”

“Well, you got me thinking. You said they want you to do your song right after the New Album Award presentation, right? That means you’re not gonna have time to change clothes in between, and they’re gonna want you in your formal dress for the award presentation when - not if, you win. That means you’re gonna need something pretty, but that you can perform in.”

Ranko blushed at the idea that she was once again going to be stuffed into a formal gown, but nodded and managed a smile. “I’m listening. I’m nervous, because I still lift my heavy-ass wedding dress in the closet whenever I want a workout, but I’m listening…”

Izumi’s eyes took on a victorious shimmer. “So I figured out how we can do it, and if we can pull this off, it’s gonna be fucking amazing. But, fair warning, it’s gonna be hot as hell.” 

The singer laughed as she nodded to Sakura, who had just entered the bar through the front door. Yui’s girlfriend wore a blue blazer over a cream-colored silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, and she looked more than a little stressed as she made a beeline for the bar on her tall black heels.

“Well, as the song goes, Izzi… You’re talking to a Phoenix; I was fucking born in fire.”

Izumi nodded, leaning over the bar toward her youngest sister and lowering her voice. “So, here’s what I was thinking…”

Sakura slipped behind the bar, sliding past Izzi with an urgency in her eyes, and pulled Yui into a tight hug. Her voice carried a quiet sadness that disquieted all three of the Phoenix sisters in earshot. “Hey, babe.”

The blonde bartender looked up as she was embraced, gently returning her tin shaker to the bar as best she could with her satin-sleeved arms pinned to her sides. “Hey to you too, I guess. You okay, Sakura? Did the meeting not go well?”

“Can… Can we go talk somewhere private for a minute?” Sakura released Yui from the hug, taking her girlfriend by the hand instead.

Yui gave a slow, nervous nod. “O…kay? You’re scaring me, love. C’mon, we can use Mama’s office.” Sakura turned back to the saloon door, pulling Yui behind her by the hand. Izumi, having finished blowing Ranko’s mind with her fashion idea, slid to her left and picked up Yui’s shaker, resuming the construction of a pair of Dragonfire cocktails for a young flight attendant and her date, and the redheaded songstress loped back to the stage for her next set.

Yui pushed the door to Hana’s office open, and as she did, Ayako sat up in surprise from the tattered leather chair behind the desk. The heavy thunk sound of the thick blue hardcover book she’d been reading being slammed shut still lingered in the air as she rocketed out of the chair. “Yui, Sakura, hey. Did you… need something?” She tucked the book behind her back, holding it with both hands.

“Alright, it’s officially Weird Yui Out Day, apparently. Sakura just wanted to talk alone for a minute, but if you’re busy…” The blonde shrugged. “We can go upstairs, probably.” Unless, like, Mei’s up there with some boy, or a zebra, or something. It’s been just that kind of day where any kind of weird shit could happen.

Ayako shook her head, sliding toward the door, careful not to let either of the other women see the cover of the huge, jacketless book she concealed behind her back in both hands. “Nah, it’s okay. If you’re gonna be in here for a bit, I should go up front and help Izzi and Ran-chan anyway.” Sakura stepped into the room, clearing the space around the doorway to allow the pregnant woman to more comfortably pass into the hallway. 

“Okay,” Yui said as she pulled the door closed. Her single-word sentence was punctuated with an ominous click from the door latch that pierced the quiet between the two women. “Now, would you please tell me what’s going on with you? You’re kinda freaking me the fuck out, girlfriend.”

Sakura sighed, sitting on the beat-up leather couch along the right wall and crossing her legs at the knee. “So, I had my review today, like I thought.”

Yui sighed heavily, wheeling the ripped leather chair out from behind her mother’s desk and sitting in it facing the couch. “You didn’t get the promotion.” Her voice was sorrowful and soothing. “I’m sorry, love.”

The black-haired woman bit her lip, shaking her head. “No, Yui. I did.”

“Well, that’s great! Shitty of you to play all glum and fake me out, though! When do you start the new gig? We’ll have to work with Mei on the details of getting you moved in and everything!” Yui reached forward to hug her girlfriend, but stopped when she realized Sakura was not dropping the act. 

“Babe? What aren’t you telling me?”

Sakura sighed, looking down at her well-manicured fingernails. “They offered me vice-president of bar operations for the whole chain, Yui. All two-hundred-some properties. But… the job’s in the home office, in Fukuoka.”

“But…” Yui swallowed hard. “That’s like, so far away. How are we gonna…”

Sakura reached out, taking Yui’s hands in both of hers and giving them a tight squeeze. “I want you to come with me, Yui. I get to hire my own people. I could put you in charge of training every bartender at a Sugoi property nationwide. It’d be so much more money for both of us, and we could get a nice condo on the beach together, maybe a dog or something. Maybe a couple of rings or something…” She looked up with a hopeful smile, praying it would conceal the worry in her eyes.

“Sakura, I…” Yui let go of her girlfriend’s hands, standing and beginning to pace around the cluttered office. “I mean, I don’t know what to say. It’s just, it’s so much. Like, that sounds great, but… what about this place? My sisters and my mom?”

The brunette nodded, standing as well and wrapping her arms tight around Yui. “I know. It’d be a huge change, and it’s a big ask. But this place’ll be fine. Your mom can pass it to Mei; the gods know she needs a direction. I just… this opportunity is everything I’ve been fighting my ass off for years to get, and… I want to share it all with you, Yui. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sakura. I really, really do, more than I ever thought I could love somebody again after Kimi. But… it’s…” Yui looked down into the shorter girl’s eyes, her own welling with tears. “I need some time with this. When do you need to let them know?”

“They want me to start first of the year, so, a couple weeks, tops.” Sakura sighed. “I’m sorry to pressure you like this, Yui. I just… I want…”

Yui nodded, wiping her eyes with the sides of her fingers before pulling her girlfriend into a kiss. 

“I know.”