Disclaimer: I do not own "Sailor Moon", nor any of its characters. No profit is being made of this story, no infringement of any rights is intended.
The cool draft did little to quell her smoldering temper. The fight with her aqua-haired partner had left the young woman bemused and insecure. She did not even know what had brought about the argument…and she was not all to sure she even cared. They had practically been at each others throats all over the last few days—even over the pettiest of trifles.
Haruka let out a long-suffering sigh and leaned against the window frame, pressing her forehead against the cold glass. Outside, a chilly September night had settled in.
She clenched her fist in silent anger, and slammed it hard against the small table under the window. By accident—or was it by chance?—she hit a small wooden chest. It landed on the neatly lacquered floor. A few ancient-looking pieces of jewelry slid out, together with a few old coins, a delicately sculpted matchstick and a couple of papers.
As Haruka fiddled with the items, to put them back in their place, one of the papers caught her eyes. It was a newspaper cut—a couple of years old judging by its yellowish tint and numerous creases. "Can It Tell?", read the title—and in small print, the author's name: Kaioh Michiru.
Is the Wind aware of the ruffling it causes as it wafts by? Does it feel the tranquil Ocean ripple at its touch? Or does it simply gust by, ever oblivious to the changed world it left behind…?
Ever does Wind wonder how a lone blade of grass feels, as the soft stroke of a passing flurry first runs it down, then lifts it back…? How a sear windborne leaf perceives its intricate last dance? What a speck of dust thinks as it is blown into some unsuspecting passer-by's eye?
Where is Wind at a given moment in time…? I feel it all around me, yet when my eyes search, I see nothing. It's everywhere, and nowhere all the same. Unyieldingly it thrusts forward, and never stops for directions. I wish I had such trust in my own path.
Does Wind ever wonder how the calm seawaters long its transient touch? How the Ocean currents crave to break free and fly alongside it? Salty droplets caught on a stronger draft sometimes float dreamily for one blessed moment, wrapped in the promise of future. And how hard is their fall, when the blue darkness of the deep reclaims them! How the waters grieve to feel their own weight pulling them down? To know they will ever feel the brisk breeze just grazing along the surface… And how the Sea reaches yearning waves to revel in the ephemeral breeze for just a second longer!
Does Wind ever feel the desire to latch on the crest of one solitary icy wave?
Glide alongside it on the thin line that parts skies from seas?
I wish I could have that one answer. But can anyone really know? I can only watch idly as the light breeze yields silent tidal waves. And wonder…can it ever tell…?
She had not even realized how hard she had clenched her fingers. The brittle newspaper piece crumpled between her hands.
"I would appreciate if you did not rumple that. It deserves much more consideration."
The words hung in the air, filling the shady space between the two of them.
Slowly, Haruka turned to face her partner, her mouth slightly open for surprise. Michiru had reached a hand for the article, keeping a resolutely neutral expression on her face. Her gaze was kept carefully low, avoiding the blonde's endlessly searching eyes.
Tentatively, Haruka reached her the newspaper clipping. Her look never left Michiru's face. As the aqua-haired girl tried to take the paper, she tightened her grasp on it. Almost instinctively, the other raised her eyes. Their gazes crossed like swords elegantly yielded by expert swordsmen.
"When did you write this…?"
"Does it matter?"
"It does to me."
"It shouldn't."
Disappointment etched on her features, Haruka let go of the article. Her hand dropped to her side, and the small paper silently floated to the floor. It lay motionless at their feet, a white patch emanating a strange light in the otherwise dark room.
"It shouldn't matter when I wrote it", Michiru repeated firmly, then her tone softened almost imperceptibly. "I've always meant it" she added in a barely audible whisper.
Silence reigned for a long moment. Then, the young woman felt a warm hand touch hers.
"I could tell."
A/N: What did you think? Somehow, I believe that is what Michiru thought before the awakening of Uranus, and maybe even afterwards. Her article would have easily been published, just as all her works were so appreciated even though no one knew the real meaning behind them. Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so you know where that little blue button isJ !
A.