The Phoenix Saga

Author's Note: This chapter contains depictions of attempted sexual assault, graphic violence, and flashbacks. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Ranko waved to the assembled patrons from her new stage platform with a pang of guilt, taking a shallow bow. She knew they weren't getting her best effort tonight, but she had more important things on her mind. Wherever she went in the room, her eyes were never far off from the table in the far corner where Mikado and his groupies sat. She might not know much about dating guys, but she knew danger when she saw it, especially when it sat in her home with a bottomless pitcher of sake. She couldn't believe that even after all he had done to her, he didn't even recognize her as she stood a few dozen meters away singing like a pop idol. It made her blood boil. Was his violation of her so casual for him that he didn't even remember it?
When her gaze wasn't on Mikado, it was on his girlfriend. Mei still hadn't had much to say to her in days, but she didn't know the things Ranko did about him. She still agonized over whether she should have told Mei everything, but it was too close to home for her. Even so, Ranko dreaded every second Mei spent with that loser. At least the argument with Mei would have been worth it had she heeded Ranko's warning. It was lucky Mei decided to serve his table herself, she thought, because Ranko didn't know if she could look him in the eyes and not reveal herself.
The redhead rushed between her tables, doing her best to keep them happy while reserving herself as much time as possible. There was just one problem with that – the more popular Ranko's singing had become, the less interested the crowd was in karaoke. Whether she had wanted it or not, that new stage was almost her exclusive domain now, and the customers got restless when it wasn't filled. She almost didn't have time to serve tables between songs some nights, and tonight was one of them.
She had barely dropped off a tray full of empty mugs when the more inebriated revelers at the few tables closest to the stage began cheering loudly, willing the little corner platform to come to life again. Ranko rolled her eyes at Yui, who could only wave her back toward the stage. With an exasperated sigh and a look of apology at Izumi, who was frantically trying to cover the back bar and half the room, she closed the distance to the raised platform and hopped up on stage, picking up the microphone. "Tell you what, why don't you guys pick the next song?" She did her best to smile, and the crowd began shouting a cacophony of song titles at her. Hearing one louder voice call out a song she knew, she pointed to the guy who named it. "Yeah, let's do that one! You guys know it, right?" Most of them did – it was fairly popular on the radio lately – and they cheered in confirmation. Ranko leaned over the controls for the sound system, pulling it up and beginning the backing track.
As she finished the first verse, she looked up and spied Mei leaning on Mikado's table talking with him and his friends. Shaking her head slightly and trying to blend it into her choreography, she admonished herself. Mei doesn't want you looking after her, and you have a job to do, she thought to herself before launching into the chorus with a bit more effort. The crowd jubilantly sang along.
The songstress' eyes flashed throughout the room, trying her best to make eye contact with everybody at least once. The couple at table fourteen were going to need refills after the song. Table eighteen had put their menus down; they were likely ready to order. The girl in the green shirt at the bar probably shouldn't be served anymore tonight, and the creepy guy sitting next to her had definitely noticed her incapacitation. Yui was catching up on drink orders, Izumi was running the dishwasher, and Mei was… nowhere to be found.
Almost forgetting to begin the second chorus on time, Ranko searched the dark room frantically. Mikado was still in his seat, so everything was probably okay, but where was Mei? Searching the bar back area, she caught a glimpse of the trash can, which was missing its bag. She must have gone out back to toss it. She breathed a sigh of relief – but a short-lived one, because from the corner of her eye, she caught movement from the table at the back. Mikado made a gesture to his friends that anyone who had ever spent time with - or in the case of Ranko, as - a guy recognized as an indication that he was about to do something he wanted his friends to watch. He stood, heading out the front door and turning left, toward the alley. This did not smell right at all.
The third verse was coming to a close, and all that remained was a few more repetitions of the chorus. Thinking on her feet, she waved to the crowd excitedly with a bright, if forced, smile. "Hey! You know the words! Let's hear you!" She pointed the microphone toward the crowd, and the crowd got the hint and roared into the lyrics. As soon as the point had been made, Ranko tossed the microphone to a standing patron near the stage and leapt down, leaving the fans to finish the song on their own.
She pushed through the crowd toward the bar, and Yui looked at her crossly. "What the hell are you doing?"
Ranko vaulted over the bar with one hand, not especially caring if the college coed perched on the closest stool got more of a show than she bargained for under Ranko's short black dress. She crashed through the saloon doors without answering Yui, rushing to the back door. She knew if she was wrong about this, Mei would never forgive her, but if she was right and didn't act, she'd never forgive herself. It took her about two steps to make up her mind, and as she approached the door, which stood partially ajar admitting the frigid December air into the kitchen, she knew she had chosen correctly.
"Mikado, what are you... Hey, stop that! I said stop!"
Ranko slid through the door sideways without touching it, and found Mikado pinning Mei against the far wall of the alley. His left hand was holding both of her wrists above her head, and his right was beginning to make its way up her skirt. Mei turned her face away from him and fought to break free, but the athlete's grip was too much for her. Mei's pleas quickly devolved into a desperate whine without discernible words.
"What's the matter, Mei? I thought you liked m… urk!"
One second, Mikado's face was centimeters from Mei's, and the next, it just… wasn't. It took Mei a moment to reorient, and as she did, she found Mikado lying on his back on the snow-covered asphalt. Ranko, meanwhile, was rising from a sweeping crouch a half-meter or so behind him. Mei was almost afraid to look at her. They hadn't spoken in days, and now, forget the snow – the fury in Ranko's eyes would have melted steel.
"Mei, you okay?" Ranko's eyes did not leave the prone antagonist as she spoke. "C'mere."
Mei pushed herself off from the wall, giving Mikado a wide berth as she circumnavigated him to reach Ranko's side. Though they didn't touch, Mei could hear in Ranko's breathing that she was shivering; the combination of a light snow, the Full Body Cat's Tongue pressure point, and the thin black minidress she wore was taking its toll on her, not to mention the tidal wave of adrenaline coursing through her.
Mikado stumbled to his feet, and Ranko leveled her arm in front of Mei, pulling her a step back and dropping into a defensive taekwondo stance between the two. Mei grabbed at her arm. "Ranko, you can't! I told you, he's won hundreds of fights, and only lost one!"
Ranko smirked darkly, staring through her adversary. She wanted to watch him panic. It was high time he experienced what fear felt like. "Yeah, I know. Who do you think was the one that beat him?"
Mikado rocked on his feet with the realization. "No… It can't be… it is! It is you!" He smirked wolfishly. This night just kept getting better. Vengeance at last! "Back for more, finally? Just couldn't stay away, I suppose? No need to be jealous; you'll get your turn."
Mei couldn't explain it, but somehow, the air surrounding Ranko suddenly grew a degree or two warmer. Mei opened her mouth to speak, but Ranko's voice broke the silence first. "Mei, get inside." She spoke through gritted teeth, a darkness roiling in her unyielding stare. How dare he condescend to her, after everything! Tonight, Ranko swore to herself, he would pay not only for his attempted violation of Mei, but for the one he had inflicted on her on the ice, and the hundreds more that had followed in her dreams. For the first time since the Phoenix Pill was destroyed, she did not fear being struck. She didn't care how much he hurt her, as long as she hurt him more.
She adjusted her stance slightly, bringing her arms more to her sides. Mei did not move, but Ranko's focus was now singular, and she spat her words at her nightmare made flesh in the alley in front of her. "I told you before - if you ever laid your hands on me or someone I love again..." She no longer seemed to feel the cold.
Mikado laughed dismissively. "We'll see about that!" He rushed forward two steps, cocking his right fist back and launching it at Ranko's chest. She did not move until a split second before his punch struck home, and then at lightning speed, both of her arms pivoted forward from her sides toward his arm, parallel to the ground with her left arm just in front of her right. Her right hand caught his wrist first, thrusting it harmlessly past her body to her left. Her left palm jammed into his elbow from the opposite direction with all the force she could bring to bear, and the alleyway echoed with a snap and a scream. Ranko shoved him back a step, and Mei gasped audibly at the sight of the supposedly-invincible athlete's arm now dangling limply at his side, bent the wrong way in the middle.
"You… you bitch! You broke my fucking arm!"
Ranko nodded, finding a vengeful satisfaction in his wailing. "One bone down, two hundred and five to go." She dropped back into her fighting stance and extended her arm, waving him toward herself with her fingers, beckoning to him mockingly.
With any semblance of strategy lost to his rage and the loss of his dominant arm, Mikado roared in fury and rushed her wildly. For a split second, Ranko had considered letting him off with just the one injury. Unfortunately for Mikado, that second was now over, and worse still, he had badly misjudged the momentum of his charge. Ranko knew that all of Mikado's martial arts experience and muscle memory involved fighting on frictionless ice, but on solid ground, the advantage was hers.
She crouched slightly, and as he careened into her range, she drove upward into his ribs with a blisteringly fast punch, and another, and another, the blows crashing into him like an incessant hailstorm. The memory of every tear Ranko had shed alone in the dark, every second of shame she had felt, and every mocking word she had endured because of Mikado Sanzenin became a spear that she fired into his torso with the force of a ballista. Each strike rocked him on his feet, but they came so quickly that he could not regain his balance between them to defend himself. Ranko's arms moved so fast that Mei could only tell when one punch ended and the next began by the rhythmic jackhammering sound they made against his body.
Her mind flashed with images of that night, of the arena. She thought she heard a sound, like a voice, but garbled, as if it were underwater. It didn't matter. She had a singular focus now. She had to keep him away from her. She had to keep moving. He had to stay down. As long as those things happened, he couldn't hurt her.
She heard another sound, distant, muffled, like someone shouting into a pillow. It blended into the cacophony of cackling and catcalls that echoed in her memory. His arms were closing in. She had to keep moving. Keep fighting. Keep swinging. As long as she did, he would not make her helpless again.
Her right arm encountered a sudden, unexpected resistance, jarring her out of her memories. The voice rang out again, clearly enough to comprehend this time.
"RANKO! STOP!"
She turned her head, blinking, to find Hana standing behind her, her feet firmly planted on the ground. She had both of her arms wrapped around Ranko's elbow, which was still raised above her head with her hand balled into a fist. A sound echoed through the alleyway, sounding eerily like a scream in her own voice, but she didn't remember making one. She felt resistance on her other arm, too. She turned her head slowly, her eyes an empty glaze. Her elbow was locked with her arm straight, her fist clenched around the collar of a blue polo shirt. Crumpled on his knees with his head hanging limply to the side, Mikado was barely conscious. His face was swollen and bruised everywhere. One of his eyes looked up at her, unblinking and glazed, and the other was swollen shut. Blood dripped from his nose and upper lip.
"He's had enough! Let him go!"
Blinking, a horrified expression on her face, she unclenched her fingers, and Mikado slumped to the ground with a thud and a pained groan.