She was set to be a classroom mother the coming Monday, and Michiru spent all weekend thinking about it. There was a party that she had to attend with Ryuji, a party given for the many famous clients that the firm Ryuji worked at had registered, and she was happy to do so, if only to have some time to think about besides the upcoming weekday she was to attend Hotaru's class. The usual babysitter was called. She did all the proper things she should do, which was leave emergency numbers, tell Hotaru to mind the sitter, and permit the sitter one phone call to her boyfriend, after Hotaru had gone to bed.

She had chosen to wear a gorgeous sea green gown with silver threading and piping at the shoulders, and her favorite designer earrings and matching heels with the ankle strap. Getting dressed up was one of her favorite things when she was a little girl, and one of the few activities her strict mother would permit her. It was too easy to make Michiru into a porcelain doll, and Michiru's mother had followed suit. Michiru had noticed she was dressing up quite a bit lately, and could not be sorry for such opportunities.

If her husband was only gallant to her, the rest of the men were in awe of her. She overheard one of the men refer to her as a sea nymph, as he was talking to Ryuji, and Ryuji had just laughed his good-natured laugh and complemented his own taste in wives and women. It was not something she permitted herself to dwell but instead she joined the party in full force, smiling, laughing, chatting with people in a way she hadn't done in so long. Being Ryuji's housewife, though trophy wife was more appropriate, limited her social interactions, especially when they had adopted Hotaru and she was chasing after diapers and bottles.

It was only after a while of chatting with other ladies of her station, women whose husbands were important climbers in the firm her husband belonged to, that she noticed hushed voices coming from one particular corner of the large party room. After a while, she noticed a blonde head which seemed to be just a little taller than most of the other men, and the color so stood out in her mind that she could do nothing but pay attention. It was Tenoh Haruka, Hotaru's teacher.

As though they had a mind of their own, her feet carried her toward that gathering of people. It seemed mostly to be comprised of older men who had a fatherly air toward the woman, and women who simply wanted to bask in the presence of such a unique personality: a stunning man, with a man's ability to carry himself with that certain male charisma, who was in reality a woman.

Michiru couldn't blame them. She was feeling so drawn in that direction, and so she had no reason to be jealous.

She was disappointed and excited to see that as she drew closer, the conflicted feelings inside her didn't lessen, but rather intensified. Her feet had a mind of their own, still, and weren't pointing her directly at Tenoh-san, in fact, but were pointing her toward the balcony, a small distance beyond the gathering that swarmed Haruka like so many droning bumblebees. That was where she was being directed, and that was how she had to move.

It was the same for that night, as well, bathed in starlight and the scent of moonblossoms, which were so much more present, away from the dancing and music and out on the balcony. So many people fascinated by the tall, blonde princess who did not chose to dress like a lady, but rather like a handsome knight...

Michiru blinked, and realized that she had been led onto the balcony of the large hotel the gathering was being hosted in. Her hands, in fact, were gripping the stone railing gently, and she leaned over. Why were flowers on her mind? There were no flowers here, several stories above the flow of nighttime Tokyo traffic. She was about to turn, and go back inside, and try to figure out just why she was so spacy on such a strange night as this, but-

"You're Hotaru-chan's mother, right? I would recognize the hair anywhere."

Michiru's eyes closed briefly but she knew she could not stay in such an embarrassed position for so long. How could she ever think Tenoh-san would not recognize her, when they had shared such a strange moment the day of the PTA meeting. She turned, and before she could even get a look at the blonde she gave an exaggerated bow, to gather her composure back to her, not to be allowed to diffuse on the evening air.

"Tenoh Haruka-san," she rose and replied. "It is a pleasure to meet you, though I would hate to keep you from your loyal fans."

"Loyal they have been," the blonde laughed. "But that is a story for another night. Might I compliment you on your lovely daughter? She is adorable and very bright, I noticed from the first."

"Thank you," Michiru smiled, forgetting to be nervous in her moment of pleasure in receiving a compliment for her hime-chan's ladylike deportment. "Though, if I may be so bold, you don't seem the type to be an elementary teacher, Tenoh-sensei." She must have emphasized the honorific with a bit of coyness to it, for she blushed just as Tenoh-san simultaneously smirked in a soft and gentle expression.

"I'm not," was the short answer. "Let's just say that I know a few good people who decided to give me a second chance. Among them your husband inside, though I've only met him personally tonight. You're too beautiful to be married, Abekura-san."

"I did not take my husband's name upon marriage," she replied a little stiffly, disappointed for some reason. "I kept my surname because it was pertinent to my former career. It's-"

"Kaioh. I know your music. How could I not, moonlighting as a music teacher as I currently am?" Again, a jaunty smile, though this one was more subtle and was accompanied by a slight dip of her head in solemn acknowledgement. "I also know that you paint, and that you used to swim. When we start the swimming module in the phys. ed. course, you'll have to be kind enough to demonstrate for the students."

"You seem to know a lot about me, and I so little about you," Michiru offered by way of parrying Tenoh-san's overt knowledge. "Have we met before? When I saw you the other night at the meeting, I-"

"No," interrupted Haruka, and here she turned her head to stare thoughtfully at the city lights. The moonlight and the reflected light turned her hair to a bright platinum, Michiru noticed. Her fingers itched for a paintbrush and canvas. "We haven't met, but for a second you did look familiar." Her celestial gaze grew troubled, if only for a moment, before she turned to Michiru with a rakish smile.

"It was a pleasure, Kaioh-san. I look forward to seeing you, and Hotaru-chan, Monday morning. Now, if you'll excuse me-" and here her eyes lifted to the inside of the party, where the same cluster of men and women waited patiently- "my loyal fans are waiting."