July 6, 1991
12:17 AM

“Omigods, Hitomi! Are you fuckin’ crazy?!”

Nesting another empty shot glass into the stack of eight already in front of her, Hitomi waved Akane off with a shaky hand and a disaffected sneer. “Oh, c’mon, ‘Kane! It’s a party! She giggled loudly, but even that could not be heard over the absolutely deafening sound system hammering Londonbeat’s I’ve Been Thinking About You from everywhere at once.

Leaning on Akane’s shoulder, Ranko giggled softly, too. She had nowhere near the alcohol tolerance her backup dancer did, but Yui had been surreptitiously sneaking her shots all evening anyway. Ranko wasn’t much of a drinker normally, but the poor kid was a nervous wreck about tomorrow, and Yui was medicating the problem as best she knew how. Of the thirteen women seated around the largest table in the back corner of Steam, only she and Kumiko were under drinking age, and due to… other concerns, Ranko had been positioned in the darkest corner at the very back, sandwiched between Yui and Akane.

“Let her do what she wants,” Ranko said, sputtering in laughter. “She’s fine.”

Akane rolled her eyes with an amused smirk, kissing Ranko’s forehead. “Ranko, honey, I don’t think you should be making too many decisions right now. You’re kinda plastered, babe. Yui, I think we might wanna slow down with her. I have plans for her in the morning, you know.” She gave Ranko’s sister a bright smile.

Swaying in her seat slightly, Ranko waved her hand wildly in the general direction of Akane’s face. “It’s gonna take more than a little tequila to keep me from marryin’ you, girlfriend.” She grinned wolfishly at the repetitive clink sounds emanating from Ukyo and Nabiki’s glasses, and reached forward, hanging her arms around Akane’s neck. “Come kiss me.”

Akane had just broken the requested kiss when she heard a familiar murmur beginning to rise around the packed dance floor as I’ve Been Thinking About You came to an end. Oh, crap.

She sat forward, hoping to block the revelers’ view, but it was already too late, and in mere moments, the chaotic cacophony of voices settled into a singular pattern.

“Ran-KO! Ran-KO!” came the chant from the eleven hundred or so patrons of Steam, nearly all women.

Realizing it was too late to hide and avoid detection, Ranko giggled, waving to the crowd from her seat. “Hey, everybody! Thanks so much! Me and my girls are just hangin’ tonight, but it’s great to see you all! Go dance to somethin’, will ya?!” There wasn’t much point, though – no one could hear her words over their incessant chanting.

“Ran-KO! Ran-KO!”

As Ranko turned to say something to Akane, Yui leaned over to her sister with a smirk. “Um, little sister, you may have noticed, they aren’t stopping…”

“Ran-KO! Ran-KO!”

Ranko waved again, her flushed cheeks and grateful smile barely concealing a cringe. What do I do? I’m supposed to just be here to party tonight, girls…

As Ranko squirmed, a heavyset brunette in her mid-forties approached their table in a white sleeveless blouse and black leather pants. She walked with authority, pushing through the crowd like she ran the place, because she did.

“Sorry about this,” the older woman yelled over the chanting crowd with an exasperated chuckle. “Fame never takes a night off, I guess!”

Sakura nodded from the seat to Akane’s left. She’d spoken to the bar’s manager, one Riko Nagamine, on more than one occasion between her patronage of Steam and her own hospitality work. “Yeah, I get it, Ri, I just… all we wanna do is hang out, ya know? We’re kinda having a party here. Isn’t there any way you could get them to stop?”

“Ran-KO! Ran-KO!” The roar was relentless.

“I think we might need to throw a little meat to the wolves.” Riko chuckled, shaking her head. “I hate to ask, but I can only think of one way we’re gonna calm them down beyond you leaving. You think you’ve got one song in you, kid? I’ll comp your whole table for the night if you’ll do it.”

Akane bristled. “Oh, come on, it’s her night off!” It’s our night, dammit! But Ranko was already on her feet, all four layers of bubblegum pink tulle that made up her party dress bouncing playfully around her hips. “Ranko, love, you don’t have to do this.”

Maybe not, Akane, Ranko thought with a half-absent grin. But is it bad that I want to?

The singer nodded, not bothering to try and speak to her fiancee over the deafening cheers that replaced the chanting as soon as her backside had cleared the chair. She put up her hands with open palms, and the revelers quieted just a moment.

“Okay, look, ladies! Here’s the deal.” Ranko giggled brightly as she addressed the throng of rapt revelers, leaning on the wall a bit as she spoke. “I’m not supposed to talk about this anymore, so let’s keep it our little secret, okay? I’m getting married in the morning!”

Nabiki groaned, holding her head in her hand. Oh, Ranko… shut up, dummy!

The bar went berserk. Ranko let them cheer for a moment longer before tamping them down with her downward-waved hands again.

“So, listen. I’m gonna sing you guys one song, and then you gotta let me party with my girls, ‘kay?! You promise?” The throng of women screamed in what Ranko assumed was intended to be assent.

She waved to the bar at large before leaning on the table with both hands to confer with her friends and family. “What the hell am I gonna sing, though? All the tracks they have in their system will have the vocals on them, and it’ll sound like shit if I try to sing over it.”

“Not necessarily,” Emi said, digging in her black clutch and producing a silver compact disc in a cracked jewel case. Its cover was blank other than the romaji letters TMO/TMO hand-written in black marker. “The rough cut Jake put together of the new one.”

“New one?!” Akane turned. “I didn’t know you had anything else done! When the hell have you even had time to write?!”

Oh, hell yes. Ranko giggled deviously down at her lover. “Yeah, well, surprise!” She reached over the table, snatching the CD her bandmate had used the Yokai studio equipment to burn for her out of Emi’s hand without breaking eye contact with Akane. “It’s a bachelorette party. They’re s’posta be sexy, right?” She flashed a devilishly playful wink at Akane as she slowly shimmied her way around the table to reach the open dance floor.

“Um, Yui, what the fuck is my wife about to do?” Akane’s eyes were wide, her cheeks were bright crimson, and she was already looking for a way to hide, but sandwiched between Nabiki and Yui as she was, she had nowhere to go.

“Hush, little sister.” Yui cackled deviously. “Be a good girl and take your embarrassment.”

Ranko slid out of the corner and the crowd began to part to offer her a path to the stage. She turned, the cascading layers of lace that made up her pink dress swishing merrily around her hips. “Hitomi? Emi? You girls coming?”

“Fuck yeah,” Emi enthused, beaming sinisterly as she and her roommate stood on wobbling legs.

Ranko giggled, throwing her arm over Hitomi’s shoulder as they headed toward the stage, the crowd parting and cheering for the three musicians as they ascended to the round stage. Ranko stopped to hand off the CD to the sound technician at the club’s cramped little mixing booth on her way. When she took the stage at last, Emi tossed her a headset microphone.

This one’s nicer than mine, Ranko mused as she started to pull it on. Her blown-out hair got tangled in the headband of the microphone, and she shook her head in frustration as it pulled at her scalp. She pulled the band back off of her head, wincing as it pulled at her scalp. She walked over to Emi, pointing at the twin black hair elastics she still had around her wrist from when she’d taken her own hair down earlier in the evening. “Lemme borrow those?”

Taking them from her friend and backup dancer, Ranko pulled her hair back into two loose pigtails, the curls of her hair cascading onto her bare shoulders. “There! That’s better!” She laughed through the hot microphone as she lifted the band behind her hair and slid it into place, adjusting the boom on her cheek. “What’s up, Steam?! You ready to party with me?!”

Fuck it. It’s a gay bar, Ranko thought to herself with a tipsy giggle as the crowd that had summoned her to the stage roared. Yui said it’s safe to be myself here. I guess we’ll see!

“So like I said – I’m fuckin’ getting married tomorrow!”

Ranko bounced on her heels and squealed excitedly into the microphone as the revelers whooped in celebration, the four layers of soft pink tulle cascading around her calves fluttering and tickling her with every move. It only made her giggling worse. Back at the table, Nabiki groaned, her face drooping into her hand.

“That’s right! Better get your staring in while you can!”

Ranko shook her head with a smickering trill of laughter, her pigtails tickling her shoulders. “Not at me, dummies! She’s back there!” She pointed at the back table, where Kumiko and Nanami leaned out of the way to obscure as little of the spotlight that turned onto Akane as possible. Ranko’s bride-to-be hid her face in her hands, her cheeks an even brighter shade of red than her dress.

As Ranko stood silently, her arm still extended, Yui nudged her sister-to-be in the ribs with her elbow. “You know she’s not gonna let you out of this until you stand up and wave, right?”

With a groan, Akane stood tentatively between her sister and Ranko’s empty seat, bouncing nervously on her heels and waving to the crowd, her face absolutely on fire. I’m gonna get you for this, Ranko. She did manage a smile up at the stage, rubbing the back of her limp left fist with her right hand in a circular motion. But I love you.

Ranko started to return the gesture, but stopped before her right hand made contact with her left.

Akane blinked. What’s wrong, baby?

You know what? Fuck this. Ranko beamed in carefree, drunken joy. “Can you guys keep a secret? Something I’ve wanted to say on stage every single day for two years? Would you girls mind?”

The crowd thundered its approval as Akane stood dumbstruck, watching her soon-to-be-wife command the stage. What the hell is she planning now?

Ranko took a step forward, clasping her hands sincerely over her heart. “Akane… I love you, and I can’t wait to belong to you for the rest of my life.” She spoke slowly and clearly, making sure there was no doubt whatsoever what she had said. She didn’t know when she’d ever get another chance, and she was honestly not entirely sure she wasn’t slurring her speech. Hope not, or this song’s gonna sound weird as hell. Hitomi and Emi hugged the songstress from behind as Akane rocked back on her heels.

She… she said it. In front of everyone. Oh my gods. You fucking dummy, Ranko! I… I love you, too, though.

Sakura clasped Akane on the shoulder firmly, giving her a little shake from behind. “You got a good one, kiddo.”

“What do you think, girls,” Ranko asked the crowd. “Have we embarrassed my bride enough yet?” The audience roared, leaving it to Ranko’s interpretation whether they were answering in the affirmative or not.

She chose playful violence, crinkling her nose and shaking her head emphatically, her pigtails thrashing from one side of her head to the other. “Yeah, I didn’t think so either!”

“Oh, fuck.” Akane tried to retreat to her chair, but Yui braced her from behind.

“Nuh-uh, kiddo,” the blonde bartender said with a devious smirk. “For this one? You stand.”

Ranko stalked the stage, her baby pink platform heels ensuring her dress swished tauntingly around her calves with every step. “There’s a million reasons I love that girl. I could stand up here all night and tell you all of them… but I think I’d rather sing about just one. Something she does to me that I just can’t get enough of. What do you think, Steam? You down?!”

The crowd exploded as a bouncy, bright electric piano track rocketed from the speakers. Ranko’s legs bent at the knees, keeping a constant, tiny bounce in her ankles and a constant sway in her hips to encourage her dress to swish around her legs. The constant shiver of its touch, amplified by endorphins and alcohol, kept her almost deliriously on edge. She looked, and felt, like an animated Barbie doll, and for this song, she’d have had it no other way.

“This one’s just for you, Akane.” Ranko patted her chest with a giggle, right above her heart. “And so am I.”

Hitomi glanced over at Emi as her roommate began swaying in her emerald sequin minidress. They hadn’t yet put choreography together for the song-in-development before the impromptu performance, so she sought to mimic and mirror Emi’s intuitive movements to provide the dance some cohesion and symmetry. Fortunately, she had done this a lot. Unfortunately, she was about ten shots deep already.

“Every single day, there’s a thousand things to stress. Is dinner gonna burn? Do I look cute in this dress?”

Ranko giggled tipsily, flouncing her petticoat-like skirt around by wiggling her entire body from the shoulders to the knees for emphasis. The crowd screamed their answer in the affirmative, led by the ten women remaining at the large table in the back of the room. One in particular. Ranko smiled brightly at Akane’s every reaction, and the excited dancing in place from Yui, Sakura, Nanami and Mei. She was so focused on the activity in front of the table that she didn’t even notice Kumiko leaning back in her chair, steadying her handheld video camera in the direction of the stage.

“Is my paycheck gonna be enough for all these bills? Sometimes, all a girl wants is a second she can chill. There’s too much going on; life comes at you at speed. It’s times like this I’m glad you know exactly what I need…”

Hitomi stalked across to the right side of the stage, bopping with the upbeat pop track in her black pleather miniskirt. She and Emi faced each other, and Hitomi hung her arms loosely in the air at her sides, slowly and deliberately rocking on her right ankle to twist the whole of her body. Emi smiled, following her lead as Ranko sang the first refrain of her spiciest song yet.

“It starts with just a glance. You undress me with your eyes. It puts me in a trance. It leaves me paralyzed. Whatever I was thinkin’, baby, now it’s gone, ‘cause GIRL, you turn me off every time you turn me on!”

Ranko had in fact changed one word from the official lyrics, allowing herself to acknowledge on stage that it was, in fact, a girl who had that effect on her. She knew she couldn’t include it in the studio version; in fact, the Yokai reps would likely be upset that the official lyrics used babe and not boy. But here? Now? Tonight? She didn’t know whether it was the party, the bar, the significance of tomorrow, or the booze that gave her the courage, but she didn’t especially care.

“...What?” came a stunned squeak from the other half of Ranko’s imminent nuptials, as Sakura giggled, whooping loudly in Akane’s ear and holding her highball glass high in the air.

Ranko twisted at the waist, giggling into the microphone as the airy puff of lace that comprised the bottom half of her dress tickled the backs of her knees. She playfully batted at her hip with her left hand in time with the music, clearly enjoying both the way the dress felt as it swished around her, and the way the crowd reacted to it.

“I was freakin’ out, but suddenly, I’m not. What had me so worried?” Ranko played vacantly with one of her pigtails, bopping her hips side to side with the slightest bounce in her ankles, the tulle skirt flouncing around her with every breath. “Baby, I forgot!”

Ranko leaned forward, letting the little silver outline of a lopsided heart sway freely over her plunging neckline from the white lace choker she wore. She continued to twist her hips, letting the constant swishing of her dress give the appearance of her moving a lot more than she was. “I’m domesticated, babe, you got me trained. You kiss me on my neck, and it disconnects my brain.”

As the audience roared, Ranko let her legs buckle from the knees outward, slumping down to her knees weakly. She took on a mewling, pleading look in her eyes as she stared directly at her lover. Her fluffy skirt pillowed up around her as she fell, settling with a little bounce on the backs of her ankles.

“Knocks me off my feet, and puts me on my knees.”

Ranko licked her lips, crawling a meter or so forward toward the edge of the stage on her hands and knees with a hungry simper in her eyes. “And all that I can do is anything you please…”

The crowd devolved into absolute pandemonium.

Mei giggled, flinging her hands back and forth to shake off some of the Manhattan that her future sister had just sputtered up in her direction. “Thanks, Akane!”

“I’m gonna kill her. I’m gonna marry her, and then, I’m gonna kill her.” Akane shook her head, her face absolutely aflame.

Shiori laughed, putting her arm around Akane’s shoulder. “Well, you’d better fuckin’ do something to her! That does not look like a girl that can wait for her wedding night.”

Don’t you worry, Shi’ri, Akane thought with a simpering roll of her eyes. She might not make it to the end of this song.

Ranko rolled to her back, and Hitomi and Emi each took one of her hands, pulling her to her feet. They launched her with enough force to lift her off her heels slightly, and her dress billowed up around her waist again as she settled back on her feet.

“The slightest little touch, and I am hypnotized…” Ranko’s head snapped over to her left, where Hitomi’s hand was exploring the front of Emi’s emerald dress. The singer pinched her knees together despite her ankles still being almost a meter apart, putting her hands on her knees with a bright smile and a little bit of a blush as she scrunched her shoulders together, looking up as if something had rocked her backward.

“Just focused on how much I need you between my thighs…”

Akane nearly faceplanted. “You have got to be shitting me.”

Ukyo tittered playfully. “Aww, what’s the matter, Akane? Sounds like a hell of a compliment to me…”

“Shut up, Ukyo.” Akane blinked. Who is this girl? More importantly, when can I take her to bed?

“Whatever I was thinkin’, baby, now it’s gone, ‘cause babe, you turn me off every time you turn me on!” Ranko giggled, walking the entire edge of the stage with only a slight wobble in her step and waving to the ebullient crowd, offering her outstretched hand down to let the women in the front row brush her fingertips.

As the bridge began, Emi spun on her toes near the right side of the stage, and Hitomi nodded. Okay, mirror it. No problem. When the shorter girl tried to invert the spin, though, she failed to take into account one minor issue - she was quite intoxicated indeed. She teetered on her heels, toppling off the round stage platform to her left. Several of the women dancing at the very edge of the stage caught her before she could hit the ground, holding her up and carrying her back to the platform as if the whole thing had been planned.

Emi offered a hand down to her roommate, and with the assistance of three women standing below her, she lifted Hitomi back to her feet. Hitomi was propelled forward with enough force to send her careening forward into Emi, who caught her in her arms to keep both from falling. Emi giggled brightly. “Gotcha!”

“You promise?” Hitomi leaned up, closing her eyes as her lips touched Emi’s. The crowd behind her thundered its approval of her bold advance. The taller girl recoiled slightly in shock, but she made no effort to stop her drunken best friend’s kiss as Ranko propelled into the next verse.

“When we’re out in public, ‘cause you took me on a date, you take the opportunity to demonstrate. You see the waiter coming, stroke me on my cheek…”

She ran the backs of her fingers down her left cheek slowly, letting herself quiver from her nose to her toes, letting her lips fall open with an audible whine for just a quarter of a second between the lines.

“By the time he brings the menus, I can’t even speak…”

Ranko turned to her side, looking over her shoulder at the poor flustered waitress who’d been serving their party all night with a crinkled nose and a sultrily pouty expression.

“It doesn’t really matter, I won’t have much to say…”

She pointed to her fiancee with an open, upturned palm and a deliberately vacant expression, her knees and waist never ceasing their twisting. She’d not chosen the pink tulle dress with the intent to perform in it, but she loved the way it looked, and the way it felt both in her heart and on her legs when she danced. Maybe it was the liquid courage Yui had administered, the acceptance of her mother, the revelations she had about herself when she’d tried on her wedding dress, or some combination of all of it, but she felt utterly, unapologetically, blissfully feminine, and even cute. Even if she’d been utterly miserable doing it, though, she wouldn’t have stopped for a second after seeing the bowled-over look on her future wife’s face.

“You’ll be the one deciding what I want anyway…”

Ranko skipped backward between her backup dancers, and the girls sandwiched her, with Emi behind her and Hitomi in front as the three girls danced with their right sides facing the crowd. They were close enough that Ranko’s fluffy skirt was touching both of them.

“Whisper in my ear. Remind me that I’m yours. My thoughts will disappear. My knees will hit the floor. Whatever I was thinking, baby, now it’s gone, ‘cause if you wanna turn me off, you just gotta turn me on!”

Ranko rocked her hips like a hula dancer, shaking the cascading layers of lace in her skirt left and right between the two elder girls that had given her an extra step or so of space between them. As she did, Ukyo looked down into her hands, fidgeting slightly in her seat. I’m good. You’re okay, Ukyo. I love Crash. Crash loves me. I haven’t thought about her like this in months, and I’m going to that girl’s wedding in something like fifteen hours. It’s gotta be the sake. She looked up at Akane, who shrieked her approval and danced between Yui and Sakura to her wife’s declaration of lust. So help me gods, though… you screw up one time, girl…

“You flash me a smile, and wrap me in a hug…” Ranko crossed her arms across her chest, hugging her shoulders with her hands as her hips thrashed her dress about her legs. “I’m instantly shut down, just like you pulled the plug. All of me goes limp. I’m putty in your hands. I don’t fear a thing when I’m under your command…”

The songstress giggled as Hitomi fluffed her skirt from behind. Meanwhile, at the audio booth, the young woman working the mixing board pegged all of the speakers to their maximum volume. She still wasn’t sure it would be enough to be heard clearly over the crowd.

“Everything fades out ‘til there’s nothing left but bliss. I can’t live without your sweet paralysis…”

Ranko lifted one leg off the floor, spinning in place in a ballet twist. She started to topple backward, her equilibrium more affected by alcohol than she realized, but Emi caught her, and managed to make it look intentional by twisting the redhead around in her arms. Ranko leaned back, letting her twin curly pigtails dangle back onto Emi’s chest.

“Please don’t keep me waiting, trapped here in my mind. Life is so frustrating. Help me leave it behind! Whatever I was thinking, babe, I want it gone. I need you to turn me off, so please, come turn me on!”

The crowd took on a new level of volume, screaming in approval as if reacting to something new they saw. Ranko glanced behind her. Hitomi, you’re not still making out with Emi back there, are you? But she saw nothing else that would have prompted the crowd’s reaction.

Whatever. Ranko bit her lip, playing with her skirt with her hands as she shimmied alone at center stage. Hitomi and Emi danced together closely, and each time one would lean forward, the other would lean back to make space for her.

“One touch, and there’s a tremble starting in my voice. Then, my mind gets disassembled ‘til I don’t have a choice.” She looked around the stage with wide, curious eyes as if she’d just gotten disoriented and was trying to remember where she was. ”Things get sort of hazy, like I’m in a dream, and I can’t stop the crazy way you make me scream!” She affected her voice on the last word as she often did when singing Sneak, making it sound less like she was singing, and more like she was doing… something else that tended to make her quite vocal.

I’m gonna have to perform here more often, Ranko thought with a bright smile at the cacophony of screams and whistles coming from the Steam crowd. They really seem to like me here. Or maybe it’s just ‘cause I’m singing dirty tonight? Eh, fuck it. Who cares why?

“I can’t even walk; I’m falling on the floor, but as soon as I can talk, I’m gonna BEG for more!”

Ranko grinned back at her table, at her family and friends. Even over the eleven-hundred-plus raucous women in the crowd, she clearly recognized Yui’s revelatory scream. She looked up to find her big sister, dancing tight with Sakura in the space in front of their table, one hand on her back, and one hand dangerously close to being up the back of her dress.

But Akane was not with them anymore.

What the… Worry about it later. One more chorus.

She straightened herself up, letting her left hand slide from her knee up the inside of her leg, letting a little whimper mix with her singing voice. With her other hand, she played with one of her pigtails vacantly again. She wanted to appear vapid. After all, the whole point of the song was to acknowledge the fact that Akane snatched her mind away with every touch.

“I’m ready and willing. Empty out my head. Take your time in filling… something else instead!” She didn’t specify what as her right hand covered her open-mouthed gasp, but given where her left hand was, the crowd needed no great leap of imagination. Their roaring somehow found a new volume level, and it didn’t slow after her gesture ended. What are they on about?

“Whatever I was thinking, baby, now it’s gone, ‘cause babe, you turn me off every time you turn mmmmmmph!”

She was pulled off of her feet from behind, the last two words of her song lost in Akane’s lips as Ranko’s bride spun her into a kiss at center stage to the delight of the roaring audience.