The flash of yellow stunned her.
She spun around, the pleats of her sky blue skirt fluttering. The passing rumble of the engine thundered in her ears.
It had only been an instant, but she felt like time had stopped. She could recall every detail with perfect clarity: yellow convertible, ash blonde driver, piercing blue eyes, white shirt-sleeves pushed up, satisfied smile... Tens of cars had driven past as they waited at the crosswalk, yet no others had caught her attention so completely. Her grip tightened around the handle of the attache-style book bag. She could almost note a lingering hint of cologne.
"Mi-chi-ru-ch~an!"
A familiar voice ended the distraction.
The aqua-haired girl smiled pleasantly, returning her attention to the brunette at her side.
"You don't have to be scared," her companion continued, "Tenou-san drives fast, but not recklessly."
The shorter schoolgirl placed a comforting hand on Michiru's shoulder.
"Come on—the light is green."
They parted ways at the entrance to the modern skyscraper. The glass and steel structure looked ostentatious in the residential neighborhood of two-story single-family homes. Michiru paused for a moment in the vestibule, watching two young schoolchildren with red backpacks run into the waiting, open arms of a grinning salaryman. Jealousy surged within her, and she turned away, shutting her eyes to their happiness and entering the dim elevator bank.
The empty apartment was silent. The customary "I'm home" lingered on her mind, but she refused to say it to herself. The place was sparsely furnished, but a concert grand piano stood awkwardly in the center of what ought to have been a living room. She walked alongside it, lightly brushing her fingertips over the smooth ebony of the closed keys' lid. For a moment, her hand lingered on the small golden knob, but she stopped herself from opening it.
"No," Michiru thought with a heavy heart, "No one will play it again."
Sorrowful notes were the only kind she could coax from her violin that evening. Standing alone on the rooftop patio, she lowered the instrument and stared out at the bay. The setting sun highlighted the dark waves with flashes of fiery ruby, topaz, and sapphire. She suddenly recalled that afternoon, remembering the yellow car and its handsome driver—something she hadn't been able to put out of her mind.
She lifted the violin and closed her eyes. The wind swirled around her, tugging at sea-foam curls.
As her bow brushed the strings, again she saw the determined, noble face of the driver. Pale, sandy hair, cut somewhat long, but still very neat, blowing back. One arm resting casually across the steering wheel. Intelligent, dark eyes intensely focused on the road ahead. A white shirt, unbuttoned, sleeves pushed up to the elbows, revealing a hint of dark blue t-shirt. He was very handsome, yet good looks alone had never caught her attention before. There was something else; something she hadn't realized yet.
She opened her eyes to catch the final rays of the sunset and stood there watching the ocean until it was dark.
At school the next day, Michiru walked into the classroom and immediately found herself in the midst of a heated conversation about the mysterious driver from the day before.
"A girl? No way! You're joking!"
"It says so right here!"
The most recent issue of LaLaRacer was thrust forward, folded back to a page featuring the smirking blonde in a full racing suit. There was so much excitement between the two students that a small struggle ensued, and the magazine slid out of both sets of grabbing hands. Michiru, intrigued, caught it by the edge of the spine.
"What's going on?" she asked, handing off the publication and adjusting her navy hairband.
The classmate to her left turned around and stood up in one swift motion, wide-eyed and agitated.
"Have you ever heard of Tenou Haruka? The recently-debuted young professional racer? He... he's a she."
The bewildered girl waived the magazine and pointed at the article and interview.
"It says so right here."
Tears welled up in the green eyes.
"It's just too cruel! How can a GIRL our age be such a handsome MAN?"
Michiru's expression didn't betray her shock. The driver from yesterday...a girl? The elegant figure that had captured her attention at first sight didn't look at all like the middle-school students in her final-year classes. She felt embarrassed for having made such an erroneous judgment, and uncertain about her preoccupation. Although it was a blow to learn that something so significant had been mistaken, she still felt...uncomfortable, somehow. That image remained impressed on her mind.
Almost unconsciously her hand strayed into the hidden side pocket of her uniform skirt. As her fingers tapped the concealed wand, her eyes widened.
She saw that face with perfect clarity—moreso than the remembrance of yesterday's brief encounter. Her mind outlined every detail with precision. The blonde hair, which before she had thought somewhat long for a man's, was a chic cropped style that framed the woman's striking and reflective blue eyes. In those endless cerulean eyes she saw the inner turmoil of a girl searching for and yet running from a purpose, driven by a desire to be free and unbridled and a longing for a better future. The frame was tall, lithe, with a style both androgynous and feminine.
In an instant she saw something else—she saw a wand, unique but certainly familiar. She saw the other girl in a sailor uniform unlike those worn in school, but of a variety she knew all too well. A style not sold in any shops—regardless of which Tokyo district one might search in. Attire for battle.
"Uranus..." she whispered.
The girls nearby raised eyebrows, confused and vaguely uninterested in their classmate's odd behavior.
She knew why the image had struck her so deeply; she had found someone else with the same terrible destiny.
And she knew one other thing more shocking than the first.
She was in love.