Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon, and I took the title from the song "Here (In Your Arms)" by hellogoodbye.
It was the calm before a storm.
A suitcase lay open on a king-sized bed. Michiru Kaioh moved back and forth from it to her dresser, carrying bundles of clothing. She dumped them in with almost indifferent casualness. Haruka watched her, smiling offhandedly. Her love stood still for a moment, poised over something in her drawer. The other girl walked up beside her and brushed a hand against Michiru's cheek. It felt warm under her touch. She fought back an urge to do something that seemed too much like crying. Outside, clouds swirled and banded together, slowly turning a mottled purple-black. They expanded and grew heavy under the weight of their burden. Michiru shunted away the sadness that tried to rebel and finished packing her suitcase.
"I still don't see why I can't come along with you." The sandy blond's voice was light and carefree. Her eyes were anything but.
Michiru held up a light blue blouse for inspection. It was one of the few material things she truly treasured; Haruka had bought it for her. The violinist planned to wear it at the concert. Michiru brought it close to her face and breathed in the faint, lilac scent before replying.
"You know perfectly why you can't."
Silence. Haruka stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the one she had sworn her heart to. Just like Michiru had done, she let some time pass before she spoke again.
"No, I don't think I do."
The young Kaioh turned around in the embrace and looked up at Haruka. She knew. They both knew. "I'm going to give a benefit concert in another country. You know what their government thinks of our kind of love. I've told you all the stories." Michiru felt her chest contract. Bravely, she struggled for breath and rested her head on Haruka's shoulder. She felt the muscles, taunt as bowstrings, and knew why they were that way. Haruka hated to hide things.
"I don't care. I love you. I'd fight to protect you. I'd die for you. Hell, I've already done it once. Please...why can't I come?"
Michiru gently broke away from the suddenly needy track star. Haruka stood watching her, eyes filled with pain and longing. Her hands hung lifeless at her sides. The tall girl refused to allow her vision to be clouded with tears, but Michiru had no such restraint. Staring into Haruka's steadfast teal eyes, the other girl blinked furiously.
"I have to protect you, too."
The fight went out of Haruka at those words, and she watched dully as Michiru shut the suitcase with a snap. The tall girl didn't say anything as she followed her love out of the house, Setsuna and Hotaru on their heels. A cab was waiting outside. Good-byes were made all around, hugs were given and received, and promises to call were exchanged. The driver got out and helped Michiru load her bags into the trunk. Hotaru muttered something to Setsuna about him being quite taken with Michiru-mama, and the older woman laughed softly.
Haruka took the sea beauty's hand in hers, and smiled. Drawing Michiru into a deep kiss, neither one of them could help but cling to other's clothing, not wanting to let go. The other two members of the household watched the dejected look on the cabbie's face with silent amusement that seemed out-of-place. Haruka and Michiru broke apart. Haruka dared to smile. It reflected in her eyes as she ushered Michiru into the cab. With a last farewell wave, the violinist shut the door. The taxi's engine revved as the vehicle left the curb.
The young Tenoh stood in the driveway, watching the taxi drive soundlessly around a corner like in a dream. Setsuna went inside, plodding rather heavily up the steps for one so graceful. Hotaru stood beside her foster father for a moment. She looked up at the sky, tasted the thickening air, and sighed. Trudging into the house, Hotaru closed the door, but did not shut it all the way. Her Haruka-papa would come in. But not now.
Haruka looked up at the bruise-colored sky. Thinking about Michiru. Thinking about the following week. Thinking about what to do. She stayed that way for awhile, even when the clouds opened up and rain fell in great freezing torrents. Haruka was soaked within seconds, hair clinging wetly to her face and the back of her neck. The water running down her face was not tears. They would never be tears while Haruka stood outside. The sandy blonde was dry-eyed as she glared up into the downpour.
She wouldn't give it the satisfaction of seeing her cry.