This is my first Haruka & Michiru story, so please, be kind. :)
Send all comments, rants, questions, flames, and psychotic babblings to [email protected].
General warnings and disclaimer:
If the idea of Haruka and Michiru digusts you, then why are you reading a story about them?
And, I, of course, do not own. in any way, shape, or form, Sailormoon, the anime or the manga, or any of the characters herein. (Except maybe Michiru's father, but I don't really want to own him. Do any of you?) They're all owned by people with lots and lots of yen, and I'm just a psychotic otaku receptionist who's trying to put herself through college.
Anyway, without further ramblings!
Michiru
Kaiou Michiru hummed faintly along with the classical music she had playing while she straightened up the kitchen in the apartment she shared with her roommate, Ten'ou Haruka. Michiru paused for a moment, clenching the damp sponge she was using to wipe the counters in her fist.
Haruka...
Michiru shook her head and resumed her cleaning. The Death Busters had been defeated - barely, but defeated all the same, and she and Haruka were left wondering what to do now. Haruka had mentioned something about traveling . . .
"Maybe, I'll travel around a bit," Haruka had said, with that smirking grin of hers. "I don't really want to deal with school right now, you know?"
"Travel?" Michiru had repeated, looking up from her painting.
"Yeah. See a bit more of Japan. See how fast I can drive without getting caught," Haruka had replied with a wink.
"O - oh," Michiru had said, turning back to her painting.
"Fine! Go and travel! Flirt with every kawaii girl in the country! See if I care!" Michiru practically spat as she scrubbed at a stain on the counter that had been annoying her for the past six months.
'She doesn't know. You didn't want her to know. You never told her,' a voice said in Michiru's head, the words resounding in time to the music.
"No," Michiru replied aloud. "She knows on some subconscious level. She just doesn't want to hurt me, so she's leaving. There's no mission any longer.. No reason for her to stay."
'Ask her. Ask her to stay for you,' the voice said with the crescendo of the orchestra, 'She will, you know. She really does lo-'
"Shut up!" Michiru shouted, flipping the stero off. She sank into a nearby chair, the sponge abandoned on the counter. She rubbed her temples. Why had that damn voice come back? She hadn't heard it since . . .
"Aren't you happy today, Michi-chan!" a deep male voice called from the large recliner. Michiru giggled, thinking about the race she had seen that day.
"I - I'm just giddy for some reason," Michiru marvelled, thinking of the disguised girl that had won.
"Ah. I think I know why. In fact, I'm positive I know why," the man replied. "You're in love, aren't you, Michi-chan?" Michiru went white as a ghost.
"N - no. Th - that can't be it," Michiru said. The man stood from the chair, his dark blue hair glimmering in the dim light. Michiru's eyes widened as she caught sight of the empty glass in his hand, the empty bottles next to the chair.."Oh, God, not again," she muttered to herself. "I - I'm sorry. I've interrupted you," she said nervously, backing up
"Why can't that be it, Michi-chan?" the man asked, walking towards her. Michiru could hear the bitter, angry tones in his voice now. 'Run! Run, Michiru! Go! Now!!' the voice screamed in her head. But Michiru couldn't move.
"I - it - it just can't. I - I'm not - I mean, I don't -" Michiru stammered. The man stared at her for a long time. His dark blue eyes widened.
"You're - it's not another woman is it?" the man asked. Michiru paled. 'Say no. Lie, dammit. Just say no and run.' the voice said. The man grabbed Michiru's arms. "Is it!?" he demanded, his crushing grip digging into her arms as tears sprang to her eyes.
"I - "
"IS IT!?" the man shook her.
"It's not like you think!" Michiru cried finally. The man threw her down onto the ground.
"Get out," he spat. She stood up shakily.
"But -" Her words were cut off by a resounding smack across her face.
"Get the hell out of this house!" the man shouted. Michiru turned and ran..
Michiru snapped out of her train of thought as a resounding knock came from the front door. Haruka must have forgotten her key again. She sometimes did that when she was in a hurry to get to the race track. Michiru walked over to the door.
"Ara, did you forget your key again, Haru - " Her words and smile died as she saw the man standing there. He looked the same. Dark blue eyes, dark blue hair. And he was pissed drunk again. "What - what are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Can't I come see you, Michi-chan?" he asked, his speech slurred slightly.. She had never seen him this drunk before. He pushed his way past her and into the apartment. Michiru closed her eyes briefly before shutting the front door.
"How did you find me?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest. "You've faced the Messiah of Silence, Michiru,' the voice said. 'You can do this!'
"Nice place, Michi-chan," the man said, ignoring her question. He flopped down in Haruka's favorite chair. "I heard you were shacking up with some big racer fellow. Thought I'd drop in."
"We're just roommates. Nothing more," Michiru replied, noting the irony of his choice of chair.
"Yeah, right, sure, Michi-chan." The man stood up and walked over to her. Michiru just stared at him, her face not showing a trace of the fear inside that was nearly overwhelming her. The man smirked and smacked her across the face so hard that she fell to the floor, a dark red handprint strikingly visible on her pale skin. "What a fine daughter you are! You're just a regular whore now, aren't you?!" he demanded. Michiru felt like she was going to throw up. He kicked her. "Get up, dammit!" Michiru struggled to stand up. 'Hit him. Just hit him back! Make him leave!' the voice said. But Michiru couldn't hit her own father. She just . . . couldn't. Her father reached his arm out to strike her again. Michiru winced, closing her eyes.
Nothing.
She heard a strangled gasp and her eyes flew open. Haruka was standing there, holding her father's arm behind his back, twisting it as to incapacitate him, glaring at him with pure hatred.
"Ha - haruka," she said, only half-relieved. She didn't want Haruka to see her like this. To see any of this.
"Are you all right?" Haruka asked gently, her voice soothing. Michiru nodded.
"I'm fine," she said weakly. "Just - just let him go." Haruka stared at her incredulously.
"Let him go?!" she demanded.
"He - he doesn't know what he's doing. He's just been drinking too much again. Just, let him go." Haruka looked at Michiru. A dark bruise was already forming where the handprint had been. "Please, Haruka." Haruka released him, stepping protectively towards Michiru.
"She must be pretty damn good in bed for you to react like that," he snorted. Michiru touched Haruka's arm gently, telling her silently not to do anything.
"Papa, please leave," Michiru said softly. Haruka's eyes widened and she stared at Michiru, then at the man.
"Papa?" Haruka repeated.
"Ah! I see you didn't tell 'im that. Wonder what else she didn't tell ya!" Michiru's father exclaimed. Haruka looked him straight in the eye. The man smirked at the obvious challenege in Haruka's eyes. "Did little Michi-chan ever tell ya why she left?"
"Papa, please!" Michiru said. She could feel tears begin to well up in her eyes. She didn't want Haruka to find out. Especially not like this!
"She went to some car race type thing and came back all lovey-dovey, starry-eyed." Her father laughed loudly. "Over some woman!" Haruka's heart skipped a beat. Masaka, Haruka thought. Michiru was crying silently.
"Please leave, Kaiou-san," Haruka said, her voice dangerously soft.
"No, actually, I think I'll take Michi-chan back home now. She seems to have gotten that woman nonsense out of her system finally. But it's quite disgraceful to be shacking up with someone. No offense, of course." He reached his arm out to grab Michiru.
"If you so much as touch her, I'll rip your arm off, do you understand?" Haruka said softly, the fury apparent in her eyes. Michiru's father hesitated for a split second; Haruka's glare ripping through the cloud of alcohol. But only for a split second. He turned on Haruka.
"How dare you talk to me like that, boy!" he shouted.
'How dare Haruka? How dare Papa!' the voice screamed in Michiru's head. Something in her finally snapped. Before she knew what she was doing, Michiru had slapped her father across the face.
"How dare you," Michiru said angrily, tears streaming down her face. "You barge uninvited into our home and have the nerve to talk to Haruka like that. How dare you!"
"Mi - Michi-chan!" her father stammered. Michiru had never hit or talked back to him before.
"Don't. Don't call me that. Don't call me anything at all." Michiru could barely control the rage consuming her. "Get out of my sight before I do something I might regret." Her father stood there, speechless. Haruka grabbed his arm roughly.
"Please allow me to show you to the door, Kaiou-san," Haruka said, walking out of the room with Michiru's father in tow. Michiru sank to the floor, all of her strength gone, the tears openly cascading down her bruised face. She closed her eyes.
She heard footsteps. Haruka's, she knew. Oh, God. Haruka knew. Haruka knew that she loved a woman who was at a car race. Who else could it possibly be? Michiru just wanted to crawl into herself and die. She felt a light, warm, comforting pressure on her hand. Michiru opened her eyes and stared at the hand resting on hers. She looked up. Haruka was kneeling down next to her, looking at her almost - tenderly? No, no, Michiru decided. That can't be it. She was concerned - worried.
"Haruka?" Michiru said softly. Haruka looked at the bruised face, silently cursing Michiru's father. Michiru just looked at Haruka, the tears still streaming down her face.
"Oh, God," Haruka breathed. She wrapped her arms around the crying girl and rubbed Michiru's back soothingly as Michiru cried her heart out. "It'll be all right, sweetheart," Haruka murmured. "Just let it all out."
The two stayed like that for some time. Michiru crying into Haruka's shirt, Haruka silently rubbing Michiru's back. But, finally, Michiru was completely cried out. She didn't want to move, though. She wanted to stay like that, in Haruka's arms, forever.
"You know," Haruka finally spoke up. "I left home because of love, too." Michiru's heart felt a little lighter at that. Maybe Haruka hadn't figured it out.
"You in love?" Michiru murmured. "That's a scary thought." Her voice turned slightly bitter. "Whatever will the female population of Japan do?" Haruka paused in rubbing Michiru's back for a split second.
"Does - does that bother you?" Haruka asked.
"What?" Michiru pulled back out of Haruka's arms. Haruka was looking at her strangely.
"My flirting. I didn't realize it bothered you, but," Haruka said slowly. "I didn't realize a lot of things about you." Michiru's heart sank again. Oh, God, she did know.
"So, so who was it you were in love with?" Michiru stammered quickly, trying to change the subject.
"Am in love with. Still am," Haruka corrected softly. Am? Michiru racked her brain, trying to think of anyone Haruka could possibly be in love with. "It's this crazy girl," Haruka continued. "Drives me absolutely insane. She used to watch me all the time." Masaka, Michiru thought. "Actually, she saved my life at least twice, nearly getting herself killed in the process." That's - it can't be, Michiru thought. "I wanted to go off and travel around the country with her, but she doesn't seem interested." She can't mean me, can she? Michiru wondered. Haruka stared at Michiru, with a slightly exasperated grin on her face. "But she has this really annoying habit. I guess it's not her fault though. Whenver I'm about to tell her how I feel, she says something that breaks the mood completely."
"Wh - what's that?" Michiru asked, her voice barely audible. Haruka leaned towards her, their faces only inches apart.
" 'The sea is getting wild again,' " Haruka quoted in a whisper, staring into Michiru's eyes.
"Haruka?" Michiru said softly, her eyes wide with shock, shining with a glimmer of hope that hadn't been there in years. Haruka leaned forward and closed the gap between them, kissing Michiru gently. She pulled back slightly after a few seconds.
Michiru just stared at Haruka, her eyes shining with joy.
"Michiru," Haruka said very softly. "I love you."