The oncoming storm

Pairing: Haruka Tenou and Michiru Kaiou

Summary: "-not the ocean." Michiru has to visit a special place.

AN: This will be a collection of Haruka-and-Michiru centered oneshots and drabbles because I figured that it would be so much easier for you guys instead of me posting random oneshots all around the place :D Here's the first oneshot of the series yay :D This is based on a headcanon that Michiru used to learn ballet- because of her shoes when she transformed into Neptune woah :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or its characters thank you :D

Enjoy!


"Can I ask a favor from you?" Michiru mutters, barely coherent.

You turn to look at her. She has been silent throughout the entire journey home from the Temple. She does not face you, and instead stares out of the car windows. You nod.

"Michi?" You ask, softly, gently- hoping that she won't resort to the promise again.

There are now cases of more demons- in the form of sailor soldiers- looming over the cities. The world is about to face great destruction from the master of those demons. You wonder if the final enemy was something similar to god- your maker. The creator of all sailor soldiers- the one that carved you out of destiny's frilly lace (with your hideous yellow bow and all-too-short skirt) and made you kill. The one that granted you the Talisman, and the duty to the Messiah.

The one, that granted you Michiru, too.

"Please. There's somewhere I need to go." She tilts her head- catches your eye, and adds with a smile, "-not the ocean."

You nod, again. There is something different this time. Not the ocean? Was there any other sanctuary that Michiru took solace in? You realise that even you, Michiru's partner, have been blinded by Michiru's alter ego, Sailor Neptune- for you cannot start to associate Michiru Kaiou with anything else other than love, ocean, paint and violin. And her everyday cup of tea that she sips while glancing out into the horizon.

(Michiru once tried to explain the romance of the horizon to you, but the conversation was forgotten as you swept her off her feet (quite literally) and brought her to the bedroom.)

After offering you a list of instructions, Michiru sinks back into her seat, and sighs. The journey is spent in silence- silence that you hate so much, and silence that Michiru drowns herself in. The world is coming to an end- even you don't need any precognitive sense to tell you that- and right now, you're spending whatever's left of your time together in silence. You could ask her all about herself, you could tell her about that time when you threw all of your dresses into the fireplace when you were eight, you could ask if she's alright. You could, but you don't; you've never needed any words from the beginning.

You remember when Michiru threw herself in front of you- the first time you saw her for what she was. The first time you embraced your destiny- the first time you realised what it meant to be a soldier. She spoke about what she thought of you- she sputtered out everything in a frantic and hasty manner, as though you would disappear.

"That," she said (once, when you recounted the familiar tale to her), "-was like the calm before the storm."

And now- this silence that wraps its silky arms around the both of you- is your 'calm-before-the-storm'. You could tell her that you love her. You could, but you don't; to do so would be to insult yourselves- do you not trust each other to know that already?

Michiru's hand wraps around your own- and you realise you've been gripping onto the steering wheel far too tightly.


You arrive outside a rundown studio. You start to unbuckle your seatbelt, but Michiru stops you.

"Stay," she murmurs pleadingly, and doesn't say why.

So you stay.

"I won't be long."

You nod.

She hesitates, but smiles- "Thank you."

You smile back, but unbuckle your seatbelt anyway.


A few minutes pass, and restlessness (not irritation- mind you, never irritation when it came to Michiru) bites at your hands. You decide not to stay, and move out of the car, into the studio.

The studio is not what you would have expected.

There are peeling murals on the walls, and faded tiles lining the hallway. Some of the doors are hanging from their hinges, and others are long gone. The light flickers- you wonder if Michiru was pranking you- and the whole setting is that of the poignant introduction to a horror movie. So you listen, and follow the sounds of a feet brushing and tapping on the ground. It brings you to a door.

The sight is not what you would have expected to see.

A few mirrors have been removed, and the remaining few are barely cracked. The floor is a little dusty, and you swear you saw some powdered plaster falling from the ceiling. The highlight, however, is Michiru. Michiru. Bare feet. Dancing. Stumbling. She attempts a pirouette, but fails to do so, and falls. You have never seen that side of her before.

Before you know it, you are laughing aloud at the clumsiness of a sea goddess on the dance floor.

"Haruka?" Michiru calls, her voice tinted with slight annoyance.

You try to apologise, but collapse in a fit of laughter again as the sight of a disheveled Michiru faces you. She joins in the laughter.


"I'm sorry. I didn't realise I took a long time."

"What's this place, Michi?" you ask.

The both of you are seated in the dusty room, cross-legged and facing each other. It is surprisingly peaceful and quiet in here. (Not silent- you can't stand the silence.)

"Silence," Michiru begins to say (and you quirk an eyebrow suspiciously- you thought she said she couldn't read minds). "Silence, is the mind's music."

"Well, I guess I can tell my mind to lay off the DJ application list." You make an attempt at a feeble joke.

"This…" she pauses. "This is a dance studio for children. I used to take ballet here."

"Why here?" Why not the ocean? Why not our house- our bed?

"I just-" Michiru places her elbows on her knees and buries her face in her hands. "I thought that I wouldn't get another chance."

You are about to comfort her, until she adds wryly, "The place is closing down."

"Ah."

"I mean- my parents wanted me to be graceful. They made me take ballet. Then I had to choose between my violin and ballet. I gave the latter up. I don't think I ever regretted it, but I think my mother- some part of her- she regretted my decision."

Michiru's never talked about her family, so you lean forward a little- torn between finding out more about her, and not taking advantage of her while she submerged herself in nostalgia.

(You stay silent.)

"I don't know why I took the violin. Maybe it's the violin. Maybe it's the violin case. Maybe it's Neptune. Maybe I thought I was meant to take the violin." She shakes her head. "The thing is- once this war is over- we can't return to what we were. And I just think that I should end this all- that I should put a full-stop to this ballet nonsense; so I won't think about what life was like before I became Neptune."

"Michiru…" you mutter, not really knowing what to say.

"Our duty is our life. It's been that way since the day we sworn ourselves to our transformation wands." The blank look on Michiru's face only makes it harder for you to say something reassuring.

"You have me," you choke out, and flinch at how bitter you sound.

"We had other things before we met each other, you know," Michiru says pointedly, her face still hidden by her hair. "It's not easy to forget."

"But you have me," you repeat, with a sense of urgency.

Slowly, she removes her hands from her face, and gazes at you. You realise how jealous, unreasonable and possessive you sound, but there are no words left in your throat to start to say how incredulously unapologetic (and yet apologetic) you are right now.

"Which is why," she murmurs, "I won't regret forgetting."


AN: I had exams (I still have one more paper to go, but it's Math so I guess I can slack off a little) for the past few days so I wasn't able to write anything :D

Reviews will be greatly appreciated!