Written for Femslash February 2015, HaruMichi prompt #16 Hate at First Sight. Works equally well for prompt #19 Silver Millennium.
Chapter 1
It was on one of their world tours that Haruka first asked. Mostly this time the tour was for Haruka's racing, though they'd managed to squeeze in a few joint music concerts as well. The concerts had initially been Michiru's suggestion, eagerly taken up by both their agents. Haruka hadn't been keen on the idea; who'd want to see her play, she wanted to know, when she wasn't even that good, nothing like the professional musician Michiru was. Michiru, on the other hand, knew that people would probably pay far more to see her perform with Haruka than with any orchestra in the world. That wasn't actually what she cared about, but it was how she'd sold the idea to their agents initially. What was important to Michiru was that she loved playing with Haruka more than anyone else, and she never got enough chances.
This was one of the quiet times between apocalypses, and Michiru had every intention of making the most of it. Cities and countries and hotel rooms swirled by in a blur. Often she wasn't quite sure where they were and she suspected that sometimes Haruka didn't know either. Not that it mattered. The important thing was that they were together, that when their colleagues and their fans and the press departed there was always still hours and hours of darkness before them, filled with glide of skin against skin and Haruka's mouth against hers, kissing her hungrily.
On one such night in an old stone city in Europe filled with crooked streets, both of them loose-limbed and sweaty, lids heavy, lips swollen, blood sated with pleasure; as the snow fell thick and fast outside the window and a fire (regrettably false) crackled in the grate, Haruka whispered a question that Michiru suspected she'd been wondering about for quite some time.
"Michiru," she asked, "do you remember how we first met?"
The bed they were lying in was a massive four poster, the like of which kings and queens might have adorned in ages past. A bed redolent of passionate trysts and clandestine affairs, of love blooming unwarranted amidst a dark tangle of politics and desire. The sheets were a tumbled chaos around them; the smell of sex was still in the air.
Haruka was sprawled with her head resting on Michiru's stomach, looking as carelessly debauched as a courtly lover of times gone by. She glanced up with a flash of eyes and a brush of fingers across Michiru's ribs, and had Michiru not already come several times tonight she almost certainly would have been pinning Haruka to the mattress right about now.
But, since she was most thoroughly content on that front, at least for the moment, she raised an eyebrow teasingly and pretended not to understand the question. "Of course, Haruka. It was only four years ago."
"You know I didn't mean that," Haruka said with a huff of amusement. "I meant before. In the Silver Millennium."
"Why, don't you remember?"
Haruka furrowed her brow. "Not really. I get flashes sometimes but nothing coherent." She propped her chin on Michiru's stomach and looked up at her in that way she knew Michiru couldn't resist. "Which is why I was hoping you'd tell me the story of how we met. You remember, right? You remember everything."
"Ah," said Michiru. "Truthfully, I like how things worked out the second time round better."
"Why?"
"Because the second time round, you were the one running from destiny. But the first time round, it was me."
"Really," said Haruka disbelievingly. "You?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Well then, you have to tell me now. I want to hear all about the winning of this reluctant Neptune."
Michiru's fingers strayed into Haruka's hair, as she thought of that other Uranus and Neptune who had lived and died so long ago. "If you really must," she agreed.
The first time the Princesses of Neptune and Uranus met, things did not go as well as hoped. They were introduced by one of the Queen's advisers on a minor outpost halfway between their far-flung planets, and Neptune was already predisposed towards being difficult about this because as far as she was concerned she could manage perfectly fine on her own. Her first impressions of Uranus only strengthened her conviction that it was not meant to be.
Resplendent in a sea-green gown, Neptune surveyed her supposedly destined partner with faintly raised brows, taking in the tan breeches, the black boots, the white linen shirt, the sword slung low on her hips and her wild, dirty, windswept appearance.
"Whatever have you been doing," she asked the tall blonde princess, "to make you look like that?"
Uranus gave her an open grin, apparently either not reading or ignoring the coolness in Neptune's voice. "Riding the winds. Have you ever tried it? It's amazing! Like flying, only better. See, there are these windstorms that sweep up on my planet and—"
"I have certainly never tried such a thing," Neptune cut her off, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "A lady should be elegant at all times."
A light squall of annoyance passed through Uranus's eyes. "I'm a warrior, not a lady. Why would I want to sit in front of mirrors primping all day?"
"Do you think that is what ladies do?" said Neptune, making herself sound faintly amused.
The Queen's adviser looked on helplessly as the storm darkened in Uranus's eyes. "I can't imagine what else you've been doing. You clearly haven't learnt any manners." She snorted, looking Neptune up and down. "And what's with that dress anyway? Do you fight like that?"
Feeling herself bristle, Neptune replied coldly, "of course not! I wear a sailor uniform as, I'm sure, do you. But when I'm away from the battlefield, I prefer to at least look like a princess. Is that attire of yours really appropriate to your station?"
Uranus widened her stance. "I told you, Neptune. I'm a warrior. I never wear dresses except in the presence of Queen Serenity and I have not the slightest interest in changing anything about myself."
"How stubborn." The way Neptune said it suggested this was not a desirable trait for a princess to have.
Two bright spots of colour appeared on Uranus's cheeks. Angrily, she spat out, "I am starting to think, princess, that you and I might be too ill-matched to work together."
Neptune met Uranus's storms with unnatural calm. "I don't need a partner anyway. I can protect my territory perfectly fine on my own."
A baffled hurt came into Uranus's gaze that Neptune didn't understand. "In that case, I guess I won't hear from you unless there's an emergency. You must enjoy your solitude more than I do. I envy you your peace."
She bowed and passed on, and the two didn't see each other again for several turns of their planets.
The second time Neptune and Uranus met was as allies in battle. There was a serious incursion on one of their shared borders and when Neptune arrived she found Uranus already there. Uranus barely acknowledged Neptune's presence before diving into the ranks of the enemy and felling them right and left, her sword blazing with a silver-blue sheen that reminded Neptune of her own Deep Aqua Mirror.
She was far more magnificent than Neptune expected, and also far more reckless.
Already she'd gone deep into the ranks of the enemy and was in danger of being swamped. Plunging down, Neptune used her Deep Submerge to clean up the busted monsters Uranus had left in her wake and fought off those who tried pouring into the gap, making sure the sword-wielding senshi had a clear path of retreat should she need one.
Normally, had an ally behaved so carelessly Neptune would have been angry, but she felt curiously protective as she watched Uranus's back, and she couldn't deny it was easier with the two of them. Whether she intended it or not, Uranus was doing a brilliant job of keeping the monsters distracted, making them fall faster to Neptune's stealthy attacks.
Of its own accord, the Deep Aqua Mirror was humming and resonating with the Space Sword, almost like the two were talking in some language of their own, and for a moment Neptune caught a glimpse of…Something. Wild winds and laughter and a fierce, irrepressible spirit.
There was no time to think about what that meant. Despite how quickly they were taking out the monsters, more were still coming. Neptune could barely see her ally's bright blonde hair anymore, and the monsters were piling in behind her too. They'd most definitely lost their line of retreat.
Using her Mirror, Neptune cast a wide silver light over the battlefield and immediately saw what it revealed. A great bloated monster many times larger than all the rest floating high above them and previously concealed.
"Uranus, up there!"
Neptune sent her Deep Submerge crashing towards their still oblivious opponent, and that was when she saw Uranus's World Shaking attack for the very first time. To say she felt it would be more accurate; felt its power building in the pit of her stomach almost as if it was her own attack; felt its furious release in the echoing tremble of her flesh as the great golden ball rocketed into space.
Of their own accord, the two attacks combined into a super-charged ball of energy and spiralled towards the enemy, but too many of the smaller minions threw themselves in front of it so that its power was spent long before it reached the queen.
Now aware of them, the huge monster roared and was immediately surrounded by tight circling ranks, preventing the two senshi from getting close again. Meanwhile, the invaders kept coming, wave upon wave, until Uranus and Neptune were back to back, each knowing that any slip could be their last.
"We need to take out the big one," Uranus grunted as the cutting light from her Sword disintegrated about a dozen monsters.
"If you have any ideas, now would be the time."
"I can get to it," said Uranus confidently. "Draw it out. Can you—"
"Attack it while it's distracted? Of course."
Uranus glanced at her, perhaps surprised at the confidence in her voice. "Thanks, Neptune. I'm counting on you."
In a blur she was gone, moving so fast Neptune could hardly follow her, streaking through the ranks of the enemy like they weren't even there. She made it all the way to the queen, and even from where she was hovering Neptune caught her triumphant, savage grin as she slammed a World Shaking right into its face.
Incensed, the huge monster lunged for Uranus and the chase was on, the smaller spawns knocked aside like skittles as the two went tearing through the emptiness of space.
Neptune was already building her attack, hidden in the shadow of the nearest moon, but a warning tingle in her spine told her that something wasn't right. She burst from her cover and flew to Uranus's side, seeing annoyance flicker briefly through the other senshi's eyes at her defection from the plan.
There was no time to explain. Already Neptune could see smoke pouring from the monster's nostrils, and she barely managed to catch hold of Uranus and throw up a protective wall of water before a fireball came blasting towards them from the belly of the beast.
Uranus's eyes went wide with shock. "That thing breathes fire?" she yelled, barely able to make herself heard over the combined roaring of ocean and flames.
"So it would appear! We need to—"
It seemed like their Talismans already knew. Neptune's Mirror was glowing and almost leaping out of her hand, singing happily at the sight of the Space Sword. As soon as the fire abated, Neptune let the waters fall away and sent the light of her Mirror shivering towards the monster queen. Its body cracked and crazed and finally shattered as it was hit by the golden beam of Uranus's Sword, and luck must have been on their side that day, for killing the queen inactivated most of the spawns and the clean up was easy after that.
Once the battlefield was finally clear, Neptune found herself being scrutinised thoughtfully. "You were impressive," Uranus admitted, easily and frankly admiring.
"Thank you. Our powers do seem to go well together," Neptune allowed.
Despite her calm veneer, Neptune was rather shaken by the fact that they'd never worked together before, never trained together, didn't particularly like each other, and yet had still matched each other perfectly like dancers in sync, finishing off the fight in less than a quarter of the time Neptune knew it would have taken her had she been on her own.
"Maybe." Uranus coughed, looking suddenly awkward. "Maybe we could do this again sometime?"
Something low down in Neptune's stomach tightened strangely. "Fight together?"
Uranus nodded, long-lashed eyelids lowering over dark lustrous eyes.
"It would be—" Neptune had to pause to collect herself. "It would be efficient, I suppose, when occasion calls for it. I must apologise for dismissing you when we first met. Today, with both of us here, our enemies were more quickly vanquished. I'm glad you came."
"You're welcome," said Uranus softly, with a far too attractive smile.
After that, Uranus and Neptune met infrequently though with some regularity at one incursion or another. Increasingly, Neptune found she was actually looking forward to seeing her, and would sometimes deliberately scour the Mirror looking for battles that would take her close to Uranus's territory. Usually Uranus would show up out of courtesy even if the enemy wasn't of any great strength, and afterwards, Neptune would linger, looking for an excuse to stay until inevitably her planet called her back.
More and more she was living inside a pattern of frustration. One night she wandered through Triton Castle and its halls seemed to echo with the same emptiness in her heart. How had she never noticed before? How had she never noticed the silence? On her balcony she stood gazing at the blue surface of her beloved planet, thinking of how she had a palace down there, and a court, and people to protect and of course the sweet-smelling oceans that surged to her will. But up here she was alone, always alone. Even though she protected the world, she could never really be a part of it, and she wondered why that hurt now when it never had before. She found herself looking up into the vast sky of space and picking out the small pinpoint of light she knew to be Uranus, shining brightly in the dark.
The Moon and its Kingdom were invisible from here, lost in the unimaginable distance that separated Neptune from the things she fought for in her heart.
The next time Neptune saw Uranus, it was by chance, and thankfully, given the situation, Uranus didn't see her. There was a party on Eris, and Neptune was invited to it as she was to everything of note that happened in the outer solar system, but unusually this time, she actually went.
Things had been quiet for years and the thoughts continually bearing down on her were becoming a weight more burdensome than her destiny and – and one party wasn't going to hurt anything or make her less of a soldier and it might serve to distract her, for a little while.
Unfortunately, the party turned out to be more tiresome than distracting and soon enough Neptune wandered away into the palace gardens, half thinking of using the power of her Mirror to just take her straight home.
A maze reared up before her, ill-kept and overgrown (really, what was anyone thinking to let it get into this state) but at least it was obviously disused and would provide good cover in which to hide until Neptune could extricate herself with at least a minimum of social decorum intact. She was really only supposed to use the Mirror for her missions, and though she did want to escape from this horrible party, she also didn't want to squander her powers on something so petty.
So she entered the maze and let it draw her as far as it wanted until she turned a corner and suddenly there was Uranus, pressed against some other girl and kissing her deeply, jaw working in a way that very much suggested Uranus's tongue was currently in the other girl's mouth.
Luckily they were so wrapped up in each other they didn't even hear Neptune's smothered gasp and before they could notice she was there Neptune backed away silently and retraced her steps out of the stupid maze and used the Mirror to take herself home after all.
Back at Triton Castle she fumed and paced and wanted to throw things at the wall just to hear them shatter. The sight she'd seen was burned into her brain as clearly as any of her visions; that girl's hands on Uranus's hips, fingers clenched white with how tightly she was holding her, the slight movement of Uranus's thigh rubbing between the other girl's legs as she kissed her.
And the way Uranus looked; the splash of colour spreading across her pale cheeks, the surprisingly long lashes fluttering over her closed eyes, that expression of earnest passion as she concentrated every ounce of restless energy she possessed into the enjoyment of her partner.
Before she knew what she was doing, Neptune had actually painted it, painted Uranus in bright colours of blue and gold kissing some vague shadow of a girl. Uranus probably kissed so many girls anyway it wouldn't have mattered which one Neptune put her with so she left Uranus's partner a blank and afterwards stood looking at the finished picture on its easel with the shimmer of salt burning her eyes.
What Uranus was doing, she told herself, was hardly unheard of, and perfectly socially acceptable throughout the solar system. So why was Neptune so disturbed?
Yes, it was true both she and Uranus and had their duty, and the weight of that was heavy, and it meant they'd never have lots of things others did like friends and family and a sense of belonging to the world they fought so hard to protect. But no one including the Queen would begrudge them taking a lover now and then to ease the ever-present loneliness. Uranus wasn't doing anything wrong in that respect. Neptune herself was often approached with such offers, but they'd never held the slightest bit of interest for her.
Neptune had never needed anything but her mission and the sea. Her music and her art. So why was it starting to feel like such a sterile existence?