Notes: Written for the prompt "If only Haruka (or Michiru) had been straight" at sm-monthly LJ community.
Mamoru/Haruka. I never thought I'd write het-fic, but here you go... and then with my favourite lesbian character ever. It was fun trying to hold on to her character, all the things that make her Haruka and make her fall in love with a boy instead of a girl. An interesting experiment that I rather liked the outcome of. The feeling of this piece is harsh and very Haruka-like I think. I'm rather proud of it, even though it's crack.
Alternate reality. Well, yeah, since Haruka isn't gay, it has to be, but... takes place in what we know as the S season/arch. Haruka and Michiru are searching for the Messiah, but they already have their Talismans.
There's of course some Haruka/Mamoru in this, somewhat one-sided, and entirely one-sided Michiru/Haruka (I could never turn Michiru straight, it would hurt too much) and mentions of Michiru/Elza and Usagi/Mamoru.
Please enjoy and don't be scared off by the odd couple.
He caught her eye, even before she knew who he really was.
He is taller than her.
It's the fist thing she notices, because it doesn't happen all that often. She's got used to the fact that everybody is shorter than her. The boys as well. To meet people's eyes, she always has to look down. It's just the way it is.
Not with him, though.
When meeting his fleeting gaze, she actually has to tilt her head upwards. Just a little. It's a fresh feeling. Curious and unfamiliar to her. It makes her smile, crookedly, but he doesn't return the gesture, his attention already elsewhere.
Letting her eyes stray upwards, Haruka can't help but compare herself to him. Their hair is almost the same length, but besides that they have no traits in common. At all. He is the epitome of "normal". Black hair, dark eyes and a uniform that matches his sex. Haruka… Haruka is his opposite in every possible way. Her blond hair is in stark contrast to his and so is her greyish-blue eyes, not to mention her use of the masculine pronoun that confuse people into mistaking her for someone she's not.
In more ways than one…
Not sparing her another glance to return her penetrating stare, he walks past her, heading for a small cluster of girls near the entrance of the academy. She follows him with her gaze, eyes narrowing.
There's something about him… but she can't pinpoint it exactly. All she knows for sure is that he probably fancies the same kind of bikes she does. To him, speed isn't intimidating, though he isn't addicted to it like Haruka is. He awakens her sense of adventure, of exploration. And she likes it.
She feels a small smirk edge its way onto her lips.
"Haruka?" Michiru's question is as soft as her element. With an underlying current of sharpness.
Just like Haruka, Michiru is often mistaken for someone else. Someone she's not. Someone she has no desire of becoming. It's what binds them together. Not just as Uranus and Neptune, but as Haruka and Michiru as well.
"Who's he?" Haruka asks as casually as she can manage, nodding nonchalantly in the direction of the boy that is everything she isn't and yet similar to her.
"Chiba Mamoru," Michiru answers after a moment of silent observation (of Haruka and Mamoru alike). In the gentle pause following the name and the lack of a teasing smile on Michiru's face, Haruka feels the foreboding of news she won't like.
"He was a prince in his former life," the aquamarine-haired girl continues and her voice carries the air of finality, "the Prince of the Earth, Haruka."
Michiru is watching her out the corner of her eye, Haruka can tell. Expecting a reaction that she knows Haruka doesn't want to show her. Matters of the heart have always been private to her.
But Michiru knows her too well at this point. She knows anyway. She can tell the truth.
"I see," Haruka replies, carefully controlled.
It's a shame, but he'll only be in her way.
She knows what they say about her. About them.
She doesn't mind.
"How do I look?"
Looking up from her racing magazine, Haruka grants Michiru the attention she is requesting.
A simple, yet elegant dress clings to her forms, as if sprayed on. Dressed like that, it's not difficult to guess at why most of the boys at the academy hope that Michiru will return their interest, even if just for the fragment of a second. It's even easier to figure out why Haruka is envied the hardly-concealed interest the violinist shows her.
Not that it's her they should be worrying about…
At her lingering gaze, Michiru cocks her head slightly, her eyes sparkling from held-back laughter.
"Pretty," Haruka replies carelessly, emphasizing her seeming lack of approval with a shrug of her shoulder as she picks up her magazine once more, "as always, Michiru."
"Ara," Michiru purses her lips and walks over to Haruka, stopping next to the windowsill and pushing a couple of curly tresses behind her right ear, "that's not much of a compliment, Haruka."
"Gomen," Haruka apologises, feeling her lips quirk in a smile at Michiru's obvious playfulness. Her eyes are fixed on the pictures in front of her, but she knows that Michiru is aware that she's not really seeing them, "but someone told me once that being a gentleman would intimidate the boys."
Michiru's own words exactly.
A hand comes to rest on her bare shoulder as Michiru leans in to press a soft kiss to her temple.
"We can't have that, now, can we?" the other girl muses quietly, her lips remaining pressed against Haruka's skin for a second longer than strictly necessary. Haruka allows it, but turns her head after a moment to send a knowing smirk Michiru's way.
People assume they are lovers. Michiru and her. Michiru and Haruka. They're not, but only because Haruka doesn't swing that way.
Sometimes, though… for Michiru's sake… in situations like this, when Michiru's defences go down, exposing just a glint of her true feelings, Haruka almost wishes that she did.
The intensity of the love in those blue eyes would make many shy away, but not Haruka. She is not afraid of any kind of power, not even when it's so clearly directed at her. However, in this particular case, she can't reach out either. She must stay true to herself. It's one of her most charming traits – so Michiru herself has claimed.
Visibly pulling herself together, Michiru steps back, smiling with only the slightest hint of bitterness.
"Maa," she says, grabbing her purse as she heads for the door (almost fleeing). "I'm going to be late for my date with Elza." Her eyes don't emit the warmth in her voice and Haruka feels sorry for her, despite knowing that Michiru would hate her if she knew. Because Michiru hates feeling demeaned. She'd rather be faced with hatred and anger than pity.
As long as there's a choice, pity is patronizing, she'd told Haruka once when they'd discussed the subject. Haruka understands her, but… in this, Michiru doesn't have any more of a choice than Haruka does.
Raising one eyebrow at the mention of the pink-haired runner's name, Haruka calls after her, allowing a confident smirk onto her lips: "I won't wait up then…"
Giving her an only half-scolding look over one shoulder, Michiru chuckles at the comment – exactly as Haruka wanted her to. "Jealous?" she questions as she buckles her sandals, eyes shining out at Haruka through waves of bluish green.
"Maybe."
Throwing insinuations and scarcely concealed mockery back and forth between them is territory they both know and feel safe in. It's a game both of them have become extremely good at after the first time Haruka transformed into Uranus and Neptune made the fatal mistake of kissing her.
"Why don't you and Mamoru-san join us then?"
The words are followed by a light giggle. Almost laughing herself, it takes Haruka a minute to grasp all the implications of the innocent comment and when she does it's too late.
"Oi!" she protests, but the door has already fallen shut.
Even when knowing the truth, she couldn't – wouldn't – avert her gaze from him.
Haruka watches him from the shadows as he makes his way from building to building, the leaps too long to not reveal the inhumanity of his powers. Her fuku and her tiara give her the same anonymity that his cape and mask grant him, but she recognises him despite of it. Tuxedo Kamen is Chiba Mamoru, once upon a time prince of this Earth that it has become her mission to protect.
She knows he'll probably recognise her true self as well, if she were to show herself in this form.
Mamoru-san comes to a halt at the edge of one of the tall office-buildings, his cape billowing in the wind as his eyes, hidden behind the white mask, scan his surroundings. Almost without a sound, she moves nearer to him, all the time letting the dimness caused by the curious absence of the moon shelter her from his gaze.
There's something stoic about him. Stoic and proud, yet his light is almost as soft as that of the Princess'. Golden. Similar to her own shine. One more thing they have in common – besides the length of their hair.
Catching herself before the sound exposes her, Haruka almost snorts.
"You can come out," his voice suddenly sounds, easily carried by the wind as it rushes over the flat roof of the building. It's dark and mature – notably masculine in an entirely different way from her own husky one, but apparently she is the only one to appreciate the difference. "I know you're there."
"I'm impressed," Haruka says, an arrogant smirk telling Mamoru-san otherwise as he turns around, the wild breeze tearing at his uniform as it rushes towards its mistress, not putting her skirt in disarray. Folding her arms over her chest, she comes face to face with him. Finally.
"It's dangerous out here," he informs her patiently, not rising to the bait, "and you're alone." From behind a cloud, the foggy glow of the moon breaks through, casting his features in light. This close she notices that his eyes are blue, a couple of notes darker than her own – almost black.
"I can take care of myself." Haruka shrugs, slowly wielding the Space Sword, not meaning for it to be a threat. His eyes narrow for just a split-second at the sight, but he remains where he is – a couple of feet away from her. Still out of reach. Relaxed, but alert. Just like she is.
"Then you should join forces with us," he says, his head tilting a mere fraction to one side, eyes softening as he perceives her, suddenly in a new light. The light of possibility. "You and Neptune."
Feeling irritated with herself for the slight blush that creeps into her cheeks at his intense study of her, she holds her head high, gaze hardening against his soft demeanour. Even if she wants to – wants to join him (them, but mostly him) in this battle, it is not an opportunity that is open to her. His Princess will only ruin everything with her and her Senshi's silly war games.
"This is our fight," she bites out through gritted teeth, turning her face towards the moon, hanging like a white pearl between the dark clouds that promise thunder at some point in the near future. She wants to look at him, to meet his eyes and take in this unexplainable gentleness that's clearly there behind every mask he wears. She doesn't understand it but for some reason she craves it. Craves him. "Do you really think she's strong enough to win the battle this time around?"
"Do not underestimate Sailor Moon," he warns, his voice deepening at his displeasure.
Tightening her grip on the handle of her sword, Haruka turns her attention back to him, raising both eyebrows scornfully. Soundlessly his cane appears in his hand and suddenly they are not possible comrades, but rather possible enemies.
No matter how much she wants to, Haruka has become too much of a soldier to believe that love can solve everything. When it comes to the workings of war, Neptune has taught her to trust more in Uranus' instinct than in Haruka's heart. It's the only way she knows of, to protect what she holds dear and, although Mamoru-san might draw her to him with his beliefs, she is not sure his way will be the victorious one.
"We should not be fighting." He makes ready to attack.
We shouldn't, she agrees in her mind, but her body mirrors his.
The Space Sword glows red in the light of the moon. The same shade of red as fresh blood.
Haruka is not an innocent like Tsukino Usagi and that's maybe what will always come between them, she knows.
She knows what they're saying about her.
They're wrong.
The five Inner Senshi are gathered on the street far below them with Tuxedo Kamen in the background. Always in the background. Next to Uranus, Neptune is wordlessly examining the Pure Heart Crystal of some nameless girl.
Haruka can already feel that it's another blank.
"It's not this one either," Michiru says just as Haruka had expected her to, straightening up and giving Uranus a sideway glance, realising that her attention is not on her partner in crime, but somewhere else. On someone else. Someone else entirely.
Mamoru-san meets Haruka's eyes and she acknowledges him with a nod that he returns. Unnoticed by the rest. On her tongue, she can still taste his lips; in the tingle of her fingertips, she can still sense his struggle against her hold on his chin. Maybe it wasn't right to force it, but Haruka has never been one to care much for what is right and what is not.
She had needed to know… and only by attacking had he allowed her close enough to touch.
No harm done. The Princess knows nothing and they probably both prefer that it stays that way. It isn't like it will ever happen again.
"Onegai," Sailor Moon shouts at them, her odango dancing in the wind that picks up speed as Haruka takes the Crystal out of Michiru's hands, not meeting the Ocean Senshi's questioning gaze. Haruka can't help but despise Usagi for being so gentle, so innocent – for being everything she can't (won't) be and everything he wants. "She'll die without her Pure Heart Crystal!"
Releasing the Pure Heart, she lets the winds carry it down to the small group, landing it safely in gloved hands. Not Moon's, however.
Tuxedo Kamen's.
After all, Haruka has never been one to let a grudge come in the way of her mission.
His eyes widen a fraction in surprise and she smirks. "It's not what we're looking for," she tells him, offhandedly. "You can have it. Return it safely." The gaze that travels between them is anything but. It's pointed. Risky. Very much so.
Michiru has already turned on her heel to head for the alleyway on the other side of the building they're standing on. Haruka will eventually have to follow, because her mission doesn't include him. Tuxedo Kamen… Chiba Mamoru. That's the choice she's made. The choice the little blonde Princess and her future husband have made for her.
"Uranus?" Neptune calls and Haruka faces her, knowing what will come. However, as a voice speaks from behind, she pauses. Saved by the bell.
"Arigato."
It's not Sailor Moon's voice. It's darker, more masculine – and holds many unsaid emotions hidden behind a mask of stoic white. Haruka smiles crookedly, much like she did the first time she noticed him. In so many ways they are opposites. In even more ways they're not.
Without answering, she flash-steps off the building, Michiru following closely behind.
"Maa," the other girl laughs when they're alone in the alleyway, their matching fuku slowly dissolving and being replaced by their regular clothing. "What kind of whim was that, Haruka?"
"It's nothing," Haruka dismisses her, but the way Michiru's knowing smirk lingers on her lips tells her that she doesn't believe her for a second.
People might believe that she's dating Kaioh Michiru. It's not true. Haruka loves Michiru and would rather die than hurt her more than she already has. Still they'll never be anything but comrades. Probably in the best interest of the both of them… when all comes down to it.
And Michiru might think that there's something going on between Haruka and Chiba Mamoru. Yet, it's not true. There's something about Mamoru-san that makes Haruka want him, but in the end she'll never be anything but a protector of the world he reigned once and will reign again.
Even though it's not nearly enough, it's all she can have, so however much she hates settling for the second best, she resigns herself to knowing her place.
If nothing else, it makes it easier to understand why Michiru, no matter how strong she is, sometimes oversteps her bounds, because just this once – Haruka did the same.
He insisted that love can solve everything. Did Chiba Mamoru. Knowing better, Haruka proved him wrong.
But… it doesn't matter.