Chapter Text
“Goooooo, Furinkan!”
With the big cheer, Ranko let the rest of her team through her skyward. The height she gained was good, sure, but it was nothing compared to the height she'd reach soon. She stuck the landing, coiled up like a spring, and propelled herself several feet higher.
A flurry of pompoms flew right at her face, but she caught them all instantly. Then, with an exhilarating aerial twirl, sent them right toward the ground, pelting and toppling over a different pyramid of cheerleaders. The crowd roared as Ranko returned to earth like an angel with her graceful landing.
“AND FURINKAN CONTINUES TO DECIMATE THE COMPETITION AS KOLKHOZ FALLS!” The broadcasting club speakers roared through the field, “FOR A DEBUT SHOWING, THESE FOUR GIRLS ARE WIPING THE FLOOR WITH TEAMS TWICE THEIR SIZE!”
Clad in the teal cheer uniform for her school, Ranko couldn't help but think one thing.
*Martial Arts Cheerleading competitions are badass!*
A metal baton was inches away from hitting Ranko in the face when she caught it single-handedly. The spin on it was enough to make it a challenge, but not enough to slow the black haired girl down.
“H-M-P-H!” A cheerleader in a white and red uniform approached with her team, “So you're still cheerleading? Can't you, like, just quit it already?”
“Mariko, long time no see,” Ranko smirked, “I ain't a quitter, though, so can it.”
With a huff, the cheerleader from Seisyun stomped her foot. “Then you're on! D-I-E! DIE!”
♡♡♡♡
“WOOOOOO!” Akataro shouted as he shook Hiroshi by the shoulders, “Do you see that!? That's my girlfriend!”
“I'm still a little sad we missed the window where this would've been yaoi…” Makoto pouted, only to get smacked over the head by Shikako.
As much as Akataro didn't completely miss being on the sidelines to witness the Saotome competitive arrogance in full swing, there was something nice about being able to see his own personal cheerleader show off in her field of expertise.
It did, admittedly, help that this cheerleading tournament was a team effort. Ranko and her friends on the team believed in each other and loved the sport itself enough to make themselves invincible. Well, maybe not as invincible as Akataro had been during his last tournament, but still undefeatable.
The clash was incredible, the roars from the crowd fuelling more excitement in an infinite loop. At one point, after a high leaping kick that sent an opponent flying, Ranko blew a kiss towards the crowd. Akataro knew for certain, though, that it was exclusively for him.
“Kick their asses, tomboy!” Akataro tried to shout over the crowd, and while it was unlikely he was heard, Ranko gave him a cheeky little wink.
For being in the same house as her for so long, for sleeping in the same bed to be status quo, for all the ways that she had teased and flirted with him already? Ranko was still able to completely flood her boyfriend's thoughts with such a simple action.
He was hopeless.
♡♡♡♡
“- and Ichika said a bunch of girls already came up to her to join the team in coming events,” Ranko continued to ramble with glee, “So I'll have to teach, like, at least ten more people how to fight, but it should be all good!”
Akataro chuckled as they kept walking. “The Saotome School of Martial Arts Cheerleading grows even bigger, then?”
“Ha! Don't say that in front of Pops, though,” The girl laughed loudly, “He'd be pissed!”
Winning that tournament had been exhilarating in ways Ranko never had felt before. It was the ultimate team effort, and she was riding the high of helping her friends find victory. Plus, she hadn't had a good rival fight in a while, Ryoga having been too busy with engagement via pig wrestling, so Mariko was a good workout.
“Fine, the future Tendou School, then,” Akataro teased, “Is that better?”
Call Ranko a hypocrite, but she absolutely melted into a flustered mess every time her boyfriend reminded her they were engaged. “Y-yes! Yes, that's much better, you dork!”
Something about being able to move forward into the future without risk of it all crashing down made planning things like that feel all the more possible. Getting married, finding a home that isn't the dojo out of spite, going through life happy and safe…
So maybe Ranko wasn't a normal girl. Maybe she could throw punches at blinding speeds. Maybe she could launch herself several feet into the air. Maybe she hadn't always been a girl. But dammit, this kind of normalcy was beautiful to her. It was enough to exist as her own kind of girl, her own self.
“... Hey, Acchan?” Ranko smiled up at her boyfriend, “Thanks for getting into kendo for me. I love you.”
“Love you too, dummy,” Akataro smiled back, and Ranko fell in love all over again, “I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.”
♡♡♡♡
Akataro was never going to get over how it felt for shirts to sit flat on him, he was pretty sure. That raven haired boy looking back from in the mirror was a very happy one, no wrappings required. That euphoria was going to last a lifetime.
With his deep blue button up shirt, properly ironed pants, and neatly done hair, Akataro felt really happy, beyond a little bit of long internalised shame. What kind of girl looked like he did, after all? What happened to…
Well, a girl he wasn't. Akataro Tendou was the youngest Tendou, a boy, the rising star of the kendo world that far overshot Kuno's past position. He felt more pride in himself, no matter what that little nagging feeling said, than any girl would have at being a boy.
… This wasn't too fancy, was it? Akataro liked being fashionable, but for a double date with Ukyo and his new ninja girlfriend, was this too much? He hadn't gone full suit and tie for a reason… He had to go ask Ranko, who was last seen going to put her make-up on by the bathroom mirror.
A brief moment of panic set in before he realised that hot water hadn't affected Ranko for about two months. It hadn't ever had a chance to affect Akataro. The learnt instinct to panic over it simply hadn't faded yet, hopefully it would with time.
“Hey, Ranko?” The boy knocked before entering, “Do I look too- Uhhh…”
It was official. Akataro might as well have been dating Kisshōten, or Aphrodite, or whatever beauty goddess was the most readily available. Ranko was beautiful in her dark red bodycon dress, and she, as per always, was confident in everything she wore. She knew she was a blessing to all who looked her way.
“Hey, handsome,” Ranko said after looking her boyfriend up and down, “I'm thinking no heels tonight. My legs are killing me after the tournament. I know tonight was to celebrate the win and all, but ouch. What do you think?”
“I- I could carry you!” Akataro said before thinking, “I mean… Uh… Wow. Wear what you're comfortable wearing, you look amazing either way.”
Ranko's giggle was music to the boy's ears. “You'd think I'd look amazing in anything, silly. But flats it is.”
The girl brushed her hand against Akataro's as she walked out. “And you can carry me as much as you like. It can be practice for the wedding someday.”
Akataro's thoughts completely shut off for a few seconds.
♡♡♡♡
Clinging to her boyfriend's shoulders, Ranko was happily getting carried home. She had gotten used to being comparatively low energy to her former self, so the whole day in combination made her just that extra bit tired.
Besides, she was absolutely stuffed with food, so of course she was a bit more unwilling to move. She had eaten the most at the table, no matter how ‘unladylike’ it was. Better than that poor Konatsu girl, poor thing seemed scared to try anything… Hopefully dating a chef would help her with that, at least a little.
“Have I told you how much I love you, Acchan?” Ranko smiled up at the boy bridal carrying her.
Akataro laughed in turn. “More than enough times to make up for every time you said you didn't.”
“I said I'm sorry..,” Ranko whined a little, “That boy was a jerk, but I'm better now, right? “
“Yes, but you know I forgave you after only the fifth time, right?” Even in the dark of the evening, that smile burned bright, “You're very good at convincing me you're completely innocent.”
“But I am!” With big, wide eyes, Ranko lied.
“Sure, sleepyhead,” Akataro chuckled knowingly, “Sure you are.”
That earned the boy a slight bap on the head, but only a very gentle and silly one with no ill will at all. The two kept laughing, bantering, and just generally enjoying being around each other the whole way home. Ranko felt safe in her boyfriend's arms.
She unfortunately had to walk through the front door herself, just so Akataro could grab the key they'd been given from his pocket. But with her flats officially off in the entryway, Ranko leaped up the stairs to head to bed.
“Hey! What happened to having sore legs!?” Akataro pointed out, but Ranko just laughed to herself.
First stopping to use some make-up wipes while looking in her partially seized vanity mirror (Akataro didn't need it all to himself, duh), Ranko then gladly took the chance to get into pyjamas. She had grown to appreciate bras and ‘feminine modesty’ just enough to know how comfortable it can be to finally take one off after a long day.
“I'm stealing one of your shirts tonight,” Ranko said casually as her boyfriend walked in, “I need the extra comfort.”
“And why should I let you?” Akataro said jokingly as he got changed into his own pyjamas.
“Because you already do,” Tugging the shirt over herself, Ranko took in that feeling of warmth it provided, “And you want to award your favourite cheerleader for winning today.”
The raven haired boy gave an overdramatic sigh. “You got me, caught me red handed. I just love my girlfriend that much.”
“Now if only you could make me invincible will all that love.” The black haired girl teased.
“Shush.”
“Make me”
Both teens sat beside each other on the bed, and with all the confidence of people who did it as frequently as they did, they kissed. They kissed as long as they wanted, with no one watching to make it awkward or to interrupt. It was gentle and sweet, a peaceful, loving moment worth the world. And yet, there'd be many more. There was always going to be more.
There would always be more to look forward to, in these simple, happy moments, where the only things that mattered was being seen by each other as who they were.
And always more was just enough.