Phoenix: Reignited Edition Vol. I (Ranma 1/2)

1.14: Finishing Touches

"N... No thank you!" Ranko glared at the wand in the blonde woman's hand. "I'm good!"

The stylist, a svelte woman in her mid-twenties wearing a green dress and a thick pair of glasses, gave a little tsk at the fidgeting girl in her chair. "It's just a curling iron, for heaven's sakes! I just want to put a little more wave in it!" She'd already trimmed the split ends and evened out the lengths of the teen's crimson hair.

Hot! Hot-hot-hot! Get it away! "I'm fine! Really!" The young redhead sat back in the reclining salon chair as far as she could, gripping its armrests with white knuckles and staring at the warm rod as if it were a venomous snake.

"Alright, alright! Sheesh!" The stylist shook her head, turning off the curling iron and tossing it to the mauve countertop of her workstation. "I guess you're done, then."

Ranko looked down, deep shame in her eyes. "Thank you. I'm... sorry." She slinked out of the chair slowly, removing the black nylon cape from around her neck and leaving it in the seat. She hung her head as Izumi watched her, a combination of concern and intrigue in her eyes as she dug in her purse for her wallet to pay the receptionist of her favorite hair salon.

"Really didn't want curly hair, huh?" Izumi chuckled as she opened the salon door and led her companion out into the main mall area. "It would probably be pretty cute on you."

"I just... like it the way it is, I guess. I'm sorry if that's bad." Ranko's eyes did not leave her feet as she walked. She's trying to do nice stuff for me, and it keeps just being harder than I expected, she thought with no small measure of disquiet in her eyes. I feel like a total ingrate and a jerk. I really am doing the best I can, but, like, every single experience today has been new and weird. It has certainly been one of my more interesting birthdays.

Ranko supposed that her realization made sense, considering it was, technically, Ranko's first birthday. Neither Hana nor Izumi had mentioned the significance of the day, and it felt kind of selfish to Ranko to bring it up herself, so she limited herself to a silent chuckle at the thought. Sipping on the mango smoothie in her hand through a thick straw, she trailed alongside Izumi, wondering where the roller coaster that had become her life would stop next.

"It's not bad, Ranko. If you like it, you keep it." Izumi motioned to the array of stores dotting the indoor mall's center aisle. "See anything that catches your eye?" She watched the redhead analytically as the pair walked down the center aisle of the mall. She looks so nervous and timid. Poor thing. She eats like she thinks her plate's gonna be taken from her, she doesn't know how to react to a gift, and she had to be shown, at her age, how to put on a bra. She's practically feral. I thought she was gonna freaking bite Sango back at the salon. And yet, she's so sweet. It's almost like she's... afraid to get her hopes up that any of this is real. It's heartbreaking to watch. Then again, I remember my first few days. I guess sometimes I forget how overwhelming it was at first to have somebody care about you all of a sudden.

As Ranko shook her head and raised her hand to bring her straw back to her lips, Izumi looked at it quizzically. "You bite your fingernails, don't you?"

Ranko nodded, a bit sheepishly. "Didn't exactly pack a trimmer." Shit, that's bad too? Is there anything about being a girl I do right?!

Izumi gave her a little tsk. "Come here, you, let's take care of that." She pulled Ranko into an open stall with several small desks, each with a chair on each side. Rows of small colored vials lined the entire length of the room's walls, and the whole place smelled of paint thinner.