525, 600 Minutes
Chapter 1: Wake-up Call
Disclaimer: Haruka and Michiru are the property of Naoko-san and do not belong to me. The plot is mine though, all mine!
Twenty-six year old Tenoh Haruka considered herself a responsible motorist, and an equally capable adult. She was in absolute control of everything, including her liquor. That theory was now shot to shit as she stared in sheer terror and disbelief at the gruesome scene before her. A smoking car lay on its roof, small flames licking at the frame as paramedics and police alike poured out of the woodwork. She could barely move her scorched hands from the steering wheel, and blew her blonde hair from her eyes as she attempted to figure out how this had happened.
She'd had been driving home from dinner with her sponsors and crew to celebrate her latest racing victory, when a little silver Porsche had come from nowhere. So she'd had a few drinks, but it was nothing excessive, and had only taken her gaze from the road a moment when suddenly a violent impact followed by a horrific crash sent her skidding into a fishtail spin. Now her prized golden convertible had been condensed to a compact size, and the engine rested in the passenger's seat. She wanted so badly to get out and see if the people in the other car were okay, but she was trapped in her own car by the warped metal and fiberglass around her.
She noticed the alarming amount of thick, red liquid seeming to cover her clothes and face, but something else drew her attention as a shaking girl with the most unique shade of hair was extracted from the wreckage. That girl appeared to resist their ministrations, looking back towards the vehicle, screaming in denial and agony laced with fear, refusing to let them secure her to a backboard. Her eyes, her eyes locked on to Haruka's long enough that the EMT's were able to administer a sedative, and as she was hurried into the ambulance, they stared at her, filled with grief and raging tears. That image bore itself into Haruka's mind as gray began to swim at the edges of her vision, and then she slipped into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware of the panic and chaos surrounding her.
Emergency personnel worked at top capacity to try and set to rights the disaster Haruka had created. They called in a Life Flight helicopter with grim faces, doubting that much could be done to save the father and younger sister of the aqua haired beauty. Her blurry eyes took in the events going on around her, and in the haze of the sedative, couldn't even state her name and information, watching helplessly as her life disintegrated before her. The medications conspired against her, and her lids threatened to close even as her vital signs began to return to normal. Kaioh Michiru, identified at last by the passport and license in her purse, slid into a drug-induced slumber, wished with everything she was, that when she woke, it would all be someone's bad idea of a joke.
A tall detective by the name of Chase Johnson scowled as she looked up at the Tokyo General Hospital. She crushed the cigarette she'd just finished beneath her booted foot and rolled her shoulders as she stepped apprehensively up into the lobby of the building. She hated following up on car wrecks, especially when there was alcohol involved. She always had to play the bad cop, and grill the driver who'd been drinking, because in a crime there had to be a victim, and therefore there had to be a guilty party. Chase glanced down at the name on the clipboard, Tenoh Haruka. She shook her short, jet black hair in consternation. She'd never quite understand the way the Japanese named themselves, being an American-born woman who was offered a nice bonus to take the position in Tokyo.
The elevator was taking far too long for her liking, and she tried to ward off the aggravation by reminding herself of the anger management classes. As she envisioned hardened criminals dying in creative and extravagant ways, and smiled doing so, the doors opened to the seventh floor. Chase stepped out, searching out the nurse's station. She located it, and strode forward, asking for Tenoh-san's room number. She flashed a flirtatious grin at the pretty nurses, and showed her badge when questioned about her presence. She put it away again, and went right, walking to the third hallway and finally found room 727. Chase took a moment to collect herself, preparing to be a hard ass, then calmly knocked on the door. A low voice called out to her, and she entered.
There in the sterile white room, lay a figure covered in bandages, looking far the worse for wear. Chase felt a stir of pity for the state the other was in, but squashed it like a worm, she had a job to do after all.
"Tenoh Haruka?" she questioned, taking a seat a few feet away from the bed.
"Hai," Haruka responded, attempting to face her visitor. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"Detective Chase Johnson," Chase stated, and taking out her badge, recited her number from memory, and regarded Haruka's response. The blonde visibly paled, but kept her gaze on the officer.
"I see," Haruka said with a sigh. "This must be about the wreck." she winced from a sharp wave of pain all over her body.
Wheels that had been turning in her head from the moment she read the name, clicked into place at last, and Chase realized with a jolt, this was Tenoh Haruka, the infamous racer. The Tenoh Haruka who she'd always admired, with her blatant disrespect for laws, be they of the state, or nature it seemed. She was startled, but nothing showed through except for grim recognition and purpose.
"Let's cut straight through the bureaucracy and bullshit Tenoh-san. We both know why you're here, and that it's the only reason your ass isn't in jail right now." Chase stated breezily, and had the satisfaction of seeing the pure shock dance across Haruka's face.
Haruka merely viewed Chase with a kind of guarded aloofness, waiting to see what the detective would do, then shifted her gaze to the fingernails of her right hand, having rapidly become bored with the officer's incessant spiel.
Chase leaned forward and smiled. "Now that we've gotten the pleasantry portion of today's entertainment out of the way, let's get down to business shall we? And you'd better start listening to what I have to say, buttercup, unless you want to go to be somebody's bitch in the penitentiary."
"If you think you're getting me into cuffs and a cruiser, you're gravely mistaken," Haruka muttered in Japanese, then jumped when Chase slammed her clipboard down on the little wheeled table in the hospital room, eyes pinning Haruka down.
"Oh goody, do I get to add resisting arrest to the charges, because I'm sure the press would just eat that up," Chase snarled in fluent Japanese, glaring at the stunned racer.
The detective smirked, and continued. "Perhaps you're ready to cooperate?"
Haruka nodded dazedly, attempting to answer the rapid-fire questions sent her way.
"How fast were you driving?"
"You do realize that your blood alcohol content was a .20, over double the legal limit, correct?"
"Were you wearing a seatbelt?"
"Did you see the Porsche, or were you too busy to tear your eyes away from the mirror to notice your surroundings?"
"Do you have a lawyer, because you're probably going to need one before this is over."
"Did you realize that out of people in the car you sent airborne, only one remains relatively stable? The other two are in critical care, on life-support. You tore a family apart. For Christ's sake Tenoh, one is an eight year old girl" Chase finished, gritting her teeth at the thought that the little girl might not survive.
Haruka's throat clenched at that last remark, and couldn't meet the cold green eyes of the officer.
"I'd only had a few drinks, and I thought that I was okay. If I'd thought I was impaired, I wouldn't have been driving. How could I have known that this would happen? I'm a good person dammit, I'd never want to hurt somebody deliberately," Haruka said in a soft voice, her hands nearly as white as the sheet she clutched between them.
Chase let out a deep sigh, and let her head fall forward, poised above her outstretched arms. She slowly brought her head back up to face Haruka.
"Yeah kid, they all are good people, and they would never think of themselves as a weapon waiting to take a life, theirs or someone else's, and that's why these things happen." She sighed again. " I need a cigarette," Chase said longingly when her cell phone rang. Hospital policy didn't include her.
"Johnson," she stated, switching gear without missing a beat, and groaned when her partner reminded her of something else requiring her attention. She closed the device, and headed out the way she'd come, calling over her shoulder that she'd be in touch.
Haruka slumped down into the blankets, every inch of her body throbbing in agony and pinched the bridge of her nose as the headache came upon her without warning. Life could be heaven one minute, and hell the next. This, she decided, was her own personal hell, direct from the devil himself. She bit back tears thinking about what had happened only three short days ago, how things could have been, and should have been different, if only she'd acted differently. She withdrew into herself as she punched the call button. Physical pain, at least, could be treated, and when the smiling nurse came in to administer the pain medication, Haruka couldn't even work up the energy to flirt. She let her head return to the cushion of the pillow, and was left with only her thoughts for company.
A/N: Well this is the beginning of a story featuring my favorite Sailor Moon couple, Haruka and Michiru. I hope you enjoy, and please review if you have the time, all authors need encouragement you know. .