Michiru stood in front of the mirror and stared vacantly into it. Unlike her talisman, what this mirror reflected was clear to see: a tired, thin girl with eyes which shined dimly from beneath heavy eyelids. The bathroom light cast a yellow glow upon all it touched, turning her hair forest green and highlighting hollow cheeks. She turned the tap on, seeking the refreshment of cold water on this hot night. She had returned home late again. Haruka would be asleep by now, though she would have tried to stay up, Michiru knew her schedule as well as she knew her own. Painfully, she recalled that Haruka had had a rare day of leisure while she, as she had been for an entire month, was occupied well into the night. There had been concerts upon concerts, dinners she was expected to attend where she couldn't stomach eating anything and travel to outer suburbs of the city and beyond, sometimes multiple times a day. She raised her hands with a robotic grace, wet with warm water, to her eyes. Mascara ran in trails after her fingertips. She rubbed her eyes a few times in absurd slow motion but darkness remained. She felt it would sink into her skin. She let out a deep breath.
Haruka turned over in her bed once again. She slept under only a sheet, her hair tussled but still beautiful. Something ached secretly inside of her. She placed her hand heavily upon her brow as though it would absorb some of the grief. Even hearing the keys unlock the door at the other end of the house, she hesitated to stir. Michiru seemed to be always leaving anyway; it was best not to get her hopes up. But that was silly, it wasn't her fault. Green eyes watched the bathroom light flash in dimly from the corridor and project itself onto the ceiling to be cut but the blades of the fan. Michiru felt the same, she knew. Or worse. Waves seemed to swash against her insides her sadly, quietly when she reached for her thoughts, no wind to sustain them. Haruka had spent the day shamelessly idle yet still longed for Michiru's company as she lay reading in the sun on their deck, s peaceful moment. Haruka's feet found the ground before she knew what she was doing. Slipping back into her discarded white shirt and blue shorts for chivalry's –more than necessity's- sake, she stepped outside silently.
The sink was close to overflowing onto the floor, the water rocking more as the basin filled. Haruka assessed the situation quickly, putting an arm around Michiru and turning off the tap.
"Michi, it's me, I'm taking you to our bedroom" said in a deep, soft voice.
Michiru heard it as if it was inside her own mind- perhaps it was, their connection was fathomless within the bonds of destiny and what was surely something else profound unto itself. She seemed to fall against the other woman as if blown, a minute gesture both graceful and fragile, hidden from the world as it was. She was far too light. Even Sailor Soldiers couldn't last this long without sleep. Haruka's strong but elegant arms picked her up despite murmurs which fell to nothing, in the most dignified way possible, savouring her scent and skin for the brief moments she could. She was still beautiful. So ethereally beautiful their combined presence in such an enclosed space seemed to dissolve the surrounding walls. Neither wasted any more words.
Following an absurdly slow but inexplicably healing walk between the bathroom and the bedroom, Haruka lay her down on the bed, lifting her dampened hair from her neck. Michiru's hands immediately reached for her again in the absence of pressure. The taller woman lay down next to her gently, covering them both with the sheet. Feather-light and finally, pressing her lips against hers. Michiru responded with a tiny contented sigh and Haruka smiled, watching her drift into sleep. She wouldn't be going anywhere tomorrow.