It was a sunny Friday afternoon at Mugen Gakuen. On a blanket, under the gazebo at the school gardens, sat a young violin talent and a F1 star racer, working on their homework. The pair had just transferred into the academy that week and had a lot of catching up to do, but their popularity was on the rise from day one, in spite of their apathetic attitude towards other students.

They often utilized their lunch break with this academic purpose after a youma attack had consumed their evening, which was becoming more and more of a common occurrence every week. Fighting and wound tending had prevented the pair from focusing on their studies and personal hobbies the previous night. The one before it hadn't been too different, and the one before that, had been wasted on a fruitless stakeout outside one of their teachers' house.

To make up for it, they had forgotten about their physical needs for most of the break to catch up with school work before the second half of the day started. Their last couple of answers had been written down at last, and the pair finally turned to their lunch boxes.

"Takikomi Gohan again?" Haruka asked in surprise looking at Michiru's bento box. The violinist nodded, an apologetic smile dancing on her lips as she cast her eyes down.

"I've abused furikake so much I can't stand the sight of it." Michiru confessed barely above a whisper.

"All flavours!?" Haruka was shocked. The situation was worse than he had initially feared.

Michiru nodded awkwardly.

"That's when I decided to give Takikomi Gohan a try."

To tell the truth, the title was an overstatement. Her ornate teal container was messily packed of plain rice sprinkled with three kinds of unevenly chopped vegetables. Rather than being seasoned with dashi stock and soy sauce, the meal looked dry and unappetizing.

Haruka had come across the improvised meal so often in the recent past, just looking at it upset her stomach. How could Michiru eat that thing without making a face? She couldn't imagine. Why a classy young lady like the aqua haired beauty would willingly put herself through such an ordeal was past the racer's comprehension.

After all, Miss Kaioh was an accomplished artist in many areas. Everything she created came out as close as perfection as one could get. As far as Haruka knew, food wasn't an exception. She had sampled Michiru's cooking several times since that fateful day at the race tracks and it was always delicious. Yet, those lunches she took to school seemed the work of a fifth grader… at best.

She had often wondered about it briefly between classes and their Senshi duty, but it was little more than a fleeting interest. Now that those improvised meals were becoming an alarming new habit, curiosity consumed the wind Senshi to the point where the only thing standing in the way of a formal inquiry, were proper manners. One just didn't ask the most important person in their world why their food suddenly sucked.

A boyfriend would have been a simple enough explanation. A man unskilled in the kitchen, yet insistent enough to force unsavoury concoctions upon the musician, would make her feel obliged to accept the unhealthy token of his appreciation.

This theory would have satisfied most people. All things considereed, it made perfect sense for anyone who didn't know Michiru as well as Haruka. No. There was no mysterious suitor in the picture. Michiru was not a two timer.

Even if she were indeed interested in dating men, it was rather hard to believe her impossible schedule would have allowed the time for it. Haruka would know! Taking her anywhere demanded an excuse related to their investigations as Sailor Senshi, at the very least. And even then, some serious persuading on her account was always involved.

"Let's swap." Haruka said casually.

"There's no need…" Michiru begun, but Haruka had already pushed her own bento box into the other girl's hands.

"I know." Haruka said with a confident grin.

"Thanks." Michiru muttered primly, eyes still trained on the sky blue box.

"School, rehearsal, teaching art to children, our other duties, weekly concerts… this can't go on. You'll pass out if you don't eat properly."

"That's easy to say. How do you find the time to cook anyway? I eat take out more often than not and stay up half the night doing homework or cleaning the apartment." Michiru confessed.

"My schedule isn't nearly as busy as yours." Haruka said simply. Even with the state championship coming up, there was plenty time for domestic chores. "Eat up. Lunch hour is almost over."

Haruka's lunch was plain and unimpressive by normal standards, but its classical simplicity shone beside that poor attempt at rice and veggies. There wasn't even a meat dish or a side of vegetables on the top floor. Just some halved fruits and nuts in a blue seashell shaped silicone container.

The blonde ate in silence, making an effort to look as impassibly as Michiru had every day that ghastly menu made its appearance but it was hard. It took all her self control to conjure a poker face for her partner's sake. Haruka tried to remember whether her lunches had been that bad in the beginning, right after they had started working together as Sailor Senshi, but she couldn't remember. There had been more important worries on her mind in those early days of their relationship.

"I'm sorry it tastes awful." Michiru insisted after taking a few bites from Haruka's karaage and salad.

"It's not that bad." Haruka lied charmingly.

"You don't need to be polite. I know I'm flailing. Hard." Michiru admitted in an exhausted little voice. "I've been for quite a while."

"Perhaps you should take it easy for a the time being, lean on me more."

Michiru shook her head, aqua curls bouncing around her lovely features. She seemed overtired, worried and even a little sad.

"I can't. It's my dream." She said adamantly, locking eyes with the blonde. "And I might not get much longer to fulfil it." She added in a smaller voice.

"Ever since I took up this duty, I've been forced to accept bitter truths, toughen up, fight, do unthinkable things… Because of our mission, we could die a horrible, painful death any moment. There's so much I wanted to do in life and so little time… I don't want to die with regrets, Haruka." Michiru explained with a fiery determination in her eyes the racer had never seen before and yet, there was something desperate about the way that she spoke those last words.

"I understand." Haruka said solemnly, instantly sobered by her confession.

The school bell rang, announcing the end of the lunch hour. Michiru put down Haruka's bento box in resignation, but her partner didn't move.

"Let's skip Modern Japanese." She suggested gingerly to Michiru's surprise. "We can finish our lunches and go for a ride."

"There's an exam coming up next week."

"Come on, just for today." Haruka insisted. "There's a place I'd like to show you. It's by the sea." She added in a conspiratorial tone when Michiru tried to protest.

"We're here to investigate this school, not…"

"You won't be of much help if we do find something wrong with it, overstressed and underfed like this." Haruka observed.

"Fine. Just this once."

Half an hour later, both girls cruised by the sea side in Haruka's golden Toyota 2000 GT. The weather was nice and clear, the sun bated their faces while the wind kept them cool, making up for the lack of shade the convertible offered.

Michiru, though reluctant to play hookey at first, seemed to be enjoying herself greatly, their upcoming Modern Japanese exam completely forgotten at the time being. She was silent, eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

"This place must be beautiful at sunset." Michiru thought out loud after a long silence, still mesmerized by the gentle waves caressing the warm sand down at the beach.

"Let's live together." Haruka said out of the blue, getting Michiru's attention at last. Her shocked, yet inquisitive expression was question enough for the blonde. "We could study together, take turns cooking and cleaning, dash out in case of a youma attack… it'd be practical."

"Was my lunch that bad?"

"It's been on my mind for a while." Haruka confessed with a quick sideway glance before looking back at the road. She cleared her throat. "That way we would never fail to meet up again if an enemy appears."

"Hmm… It does seem like the logical choice… but everyone at school believes we're going out. If the school board find out we're living together…"

"It would cause a bit of a scandal but it's not like they can object to two women living together, can they?" Haruka argued.

"Probably not."

"It's their own fault if our peers made uninformed assumptions based on appearances."

"Not like you've fuelled those rumours or anything." Michiru teased.

Haruka laughed lightly. She sounded content and relaxed.

"I like this uniform better."

"It suits you." Michiru said casually, looking back at the sea.

"We better get back to school." Haruka said equally nonchalant, though her face betrayed the slightest trace of red.

"Kaioh-san always makes lunch for our Haruka! I'm so jealous!"

A first year student told her friend as they walked by the gazebo where the most popular couple in school usually had their meals when it wasn't raining. The pair's popularity had risen exponentionally in the three months that they had been atending Mugen Gakuen.

"I wish I could cook like that." The other girl said staring at them openly. "Her themes are the cutest."

"So what!? Being perfect doesn't give her the right to monopolize our Ruka!" Said the first.

The pair was part of Haruka's fan club, whose members were always on the stalk. A few other members had passed them by before, or would do so later, using a number of excuses to approach the couple to eavesdrop on them. The young talents were used to this by now and just went on about their business as usual.

Students partial to Michiru's music were usually more respectful and only gravitated towards the gazebo when she was practicing her violin. That day, they weren't lucky, as her school work had been monopolizing her attention the entire week because of the mid term exams.

"You've had your fun and I don't mind the cold stares." Michiru began when at last they were left alone in the gazebo. "...but is the art work really necessary?"

Haruka looked up at her, trying to keep a straight face, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed the repressed grin.

"Thought you of all people would appreciate the effort." The racer teased.

"It's not that."

Haruka looked at Michiru inquisitively.

"They're too cute to eat." Michiru confessed.

"Not an ephemeral art fan, huh?"

"Not if they look like kittens and bunnies." Was her reply at the sight of that day's bento theme.

"Fine, then. I'll try my hand at still life next week." Haruka announced with a grin.

Michiru just shook her head, an amused smile dancing on her lips.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this for fluffvember LAST YEAR and completely forgot to upload it here. I'm terribly sorry. It came up in a nonrelated conversation with Michiru tonight and we both agreed I HAD to upload it, so here it is. Also, sorry for not updating Mirage in a while. I had a huge writer's block when it comes to it, but I'm positively trying to finish the next chapter. Happy Thanksgiving!