Promptfic for the Tumblr HaruMichi Circle Same Prompt Fic Party - February edition.
Prompt: Love is about...
She wakes up in a cold sweat every night, a name on her lips. But she bites it back, clamps down on it, and holds her breath, because if she lets it escape, if she cries it out, something will be made real – something she can't allow.
She knows who the other senshi is, now. She knows who it is she's been dreaming of for years, and she regrets ever having asked.
Not her, please, not her. Anyone but her.
She thinks of long sleepless nights spent confronting horrors beyond even what her painfully creative mind conjures up to throw at her, and of equally long and equally sleepless nights spent in the dubious comfort of her luxurious bed and soft, down-filled pillows, dreaming of the silence and the end of everything. She tries to decide which is worse, whether it is harder to conceal scrapes and bruises under the scratchy material of her school uniform, or the exhaustion that has settled so deep into her bones that she feels she might never be rid of it. She thinks of getting hurt, and she thinks of hurting, and of the three people she will have to kill, or – at best – let die, and of the blood that will stain the pristine white gloves of her magical uniform.
She knows with the certainty of the tides rolling in that this is not a fate she will ever allow her to have.
—
Michiru creeps into the stands every day, often in blatant disregard of the school's track and field club rules, and fills up sketchbook after sketchbook.
She has always been good at keeping quiet. Haruka never spots her.
Haruka runs, seemingly leaving the whole world behind when she does, and yet she is the one thing Michiru finds binds her here at all.
—
It happens, like she knew it would – sooner rather than later. She stuck close, but obviously not close enough, even with adjusting her class schedule to better fit Haruka's, even with trailing her on her way to and from school every day.
She transforms without slowing down from a dead run, grateful for the speed boost being Neptune affords her. Still, by the time she makes it to the garage, there's a monster looming over Haruka and an eerily familiar object suspended in the air right in front of her – and Haruka's fingertips are extended towards it, just about to touch it.
"Stop!"
Haruka freezes and glances over at her, a Who- on her lips, quickly cut off at the sight of the strange girl who now seems to have eyes only for the monster.
She can still see the frown spill over Haruka's face as she realizes what Neptune intends to do.
"Don't hurt him! He's just a kid, he was-"
She gets no further before the monster is upon her, and Neptune has but a split second to make a decision.
It's lucky, then, that she's never felt an inkling of doubt.
—
She comes to feeling unusually warm, with solid arms encircling her and supporting her. She keeps her eyes closed and basks in the feeling while it lasts, committing every last detail of Haruka's touch to memory.
Neptune shifts a little, finally, opens her eyes, and regrets it immediately. Her back and her shoulder throb and her entire left side feels like is a burning, sticky mess, but she seems to have succeeded – Haruka is safe, and whole, and the transformation pen is nowhere to be seen. An inkling of doubt beings to trickle through the cotton filling in her mind at this realisation.
"The pen," she gasps out, still only half aware, "you didn't take it, did you?"
"I didn't," comes Haruka's voice from somewhere above her, and Neptune allows herself a brief moment of pure joy at feeling the slight rumble of it in Haruka's chest, so very close to her. "It went away."
"Good. Now listen to me, please." She struggles weakly in an attempt to sit up more and Haruka moves to help her, mindful of her injuries and handling her with such gentleness that Neptune feels like crying. She bites her lip and shivers, instead, desperately trying to keep a grip on her transformation. Haruka can't be allowed to see who she is. "It's very, very important. If you ever see it again, anywhere, never touch that pen. Your life depends on it."
Haruka looks at her, obviously feeling quite out of her depth, but nods, and Neptune feels relief wash over her.
—
She brushes off all questions and adamantly refuses all offers of help – not an easy task, with someone as stubborn as Haruka. It almost makes her wish that Haruka were less kind, for once. But she does manage to drive her off eventually, and once Haruka has stopped pausing every few steps to glance back at her over her shoulder, Neptune ducks behind a corner and lets her transformation fade.
She limps home, alone, and patches herself up, alone.
—
To her disappointment – a feeling she is sadly all too used to – the other senshi turn out to be more of a hindrance than a help, and she finds herself confronting them more than once as Neptune. As Michiru she avoids them – not a hard task at first, but then, to her chagrin, they hit it off with Haruka of all people. Lurking in private booths in the Crown Parlour as the six girls enjoy themselves thus becomes a fact of Michiru's life. Joining them is, of course, out of the question, but even so, she can't say the experience of seeing them all so seemingly carefree and happy is a completely unpleasant one. She tries to be bitter, but finds it hard to keep it up.
Still, she is no closer to finding the Talismans, and the pressure steadily mounts.
—
Haruka being targeted for her pure heart is something Michiru has anticipated for a while. She is so fiercely dedicated and she shines so brightly it's hard for anyone to miss, and whoever is behind the attacks is no slouch – she is a perfectly natural choice.
But nothing could have prepared Michiru for the sight of Haruka's heart crystal slowly growing into an imposing bejewelled sword.
She finds it very hard to breathe, suddenly, as if it is her own chest that the crystal was torn out of, and the familiar chants of not her, anyone but her crowd her mind. Though it makes sense, of course it does, that it was Haruka all along. Sealed inside a pure heart – who better to carry it?
Then, from the corner of her eye, Michiru spots the strange red woman she's encountered several times before, still brandishing the large weapon obviously recently used on Haruka.
Michiru doesn't even stop to transform, but plucks the glowing sword from its mid-air perch without a second thought, causing a veritable explosion of light and energy. When the smoke clears, the red woman is gone. Michiru drops the sword, letting it clatter unceremoniously to the floor, and is by Haruka's side immediately, gently lifting her head into her lap.
"It's you," Haruka gasps out, gazing at her in bewilderment, "you're the girl."
"Hush, I'm nobody. You should rest now and forget all about me when you wake up."
"But I want… I want to help you. You shouldn't be alone." Haruka's murmurs are growing softer and her breaths shallower, and Michiru bites her lip and runs fingers through the always windswept hair. "Nobody should be alone."
Michiru remembers when their roles were reversed, and how gentle Haruka had been then. She smiles – a weak, watery thing she'd meant to be reassuring – and takes Haruka's hand between both of hers, stroking a thumb over her knuckles in what she hopes is a soothing rhythm.
"I'm not alone."
Haruka gives a small nod, and her breathing finally stills.
—
Michiru, still gently stroking Haruka's hand, is a picture of quiet misery when the tall, green-haired woman finds her.
"Neptune." The voice is stern, yet not unkind, and above all it is familiar. Michiru looks up, truly noticing her visitor for the first time, but doesn't speak.
"It's time to reunite the Talismans."
What happens next is what Michiru supposes people call a miracle.
—
"Is it possible, do you think?" she asks Pluto as they watch Haruka, alive and mostly well after having her heart crystal replaced, being taken to a hospital.
"For a senshi never to awaken? There have been cases during very peaceful times, but…"
"But?" Michiru prompts with uncharacteristic impatience, turning away from the street once the ambulance is gone around the nearest corner, and glancing instead into the intricately carved Mirror she now possesses.
"But in a crisis like this it is highly unlikely she will go unnoticed and untouched."
"I won't allow it."
"I beg your pardon?" Considering her role, startling Sailor Pluto should be near-impossible, yet Michiru's aggressively determined proclamation of intent does the trick.
"I won't let it happen to her. She is bright and honest and good, and this," Michiru makes a vague all-encompassing gesture, "is not a life for her. This would ruin her."
She pauses, and looks up at Pluto, meeting her unreadable gaze head on. "I want her to be happy, even if I am not the cause of her happiness."
"You love her." Pluto seems even sadder, somehow, after coming to this realisation.
"I do. And I won't let anything touch her."
Not even me.
—
Sometimes, the previous life (or lives? she is unsure) comes to call. She remembers both the loneliness and the destruction in excruciating detail.
"Never again," is the only thing Pluto says on the matter when asked. Michiru remembers last night's dream-memory of Uranus falling to Beryl's forces and agrees wholeheartedly, deciding not to push.
—
A girl enters the picture at some point. She's a charming, dainty thing, and from afar seems nice enough. Haruka looks happy, Michiru supposes, and outwardly content. No battles or life-shattering events await her each day, and Michiru allows herself a small surge of triumph at the evident complacent normalcy of everything surrounding Haruka Tenoh.
She does not allow herself any jealousy. Instead, she fights tooth and nail, with a ferocity she finds hard to believe she has in herself – but then, she is doing the duty of two soldiers now, for herself, and for the one she has sworn never to let awaken.
There are treacherous thoughts she has to clamp down on, regularly enough that she cannot but hate herself for them – selfish, selfish, sound the pounding waves in her head, even with all that she keeps doing. But then she hears about Haruka's successes on the racing circuit, first Japanese, then international. She reads interviews in which Haruka talks about realising her dreams, one by one, from career, to love, to family.
She cuts the articles out and keeps clippings carefully preserved, and it all feels very worthwhile.
—
Sailor Neptune doesn't age, and so neither does Michiru. She supposes it has to do with the upcoming arrival of Crystal Tokyo and whatnot, but, looking at the streaks of grey now very present in Haruka's hair, she mostly appreciates how it gives her isolation an entire painful new layer.
She has one more close encounter with Haruka before things finally quiet down. They are both guests on a state-of-the-art cruise ship, barely out of port when the attack happens. Neptune makes short work of the strange beast, its scaly, bulbous form no match for her at all, but in the commotion Haruka is knocked out and thrown overboard.
The water is what Neptune was born to, and what Michiru has come to call her own. So even with Haruka heavy in her arms, her soaked clothing pulling both of them down, they easily make it to safety.
Michiru is reminded briefly of old tales of mermaids, and wonders, in a fit of whimsy, if she'll ever end up turning into sea foam.
—
Haruka Tenoh lives a decently long and quite happy life, accomplishing many things and bringing joy to many people.
She dies of heart failure sometime before her 74th birthday. A scarring of the valve tissue, the doctors say, brought on by some unspecified chest trauma in her youth.
She goes surrounded by family and descendants, children and grandchildren, and she is content.
—
Michiru lurks unnoticed at the edges of the funeral crowd and pays her respects as quietly as she's done everything else in Haruka's life.
It is enough.
