Chapter Seven: Nothing and Everything

The tea house was peaceful in a way that put Haruka on edge. Born in Nagoya, living in Tokyo, and having spent the majority of her military career surrounded by comrades and jet engines, she was disquieted by silence. Silence was the harbinger of death; it was the brittle cold of snowflakes falling on an uninhabited mountainside, and the calm before the storm, before the attack. Thus Haruka acted differently than most Japanese at the onset of quiet; her mind was plagued with nervousness and she had to work hard to relax.

Not that the company she was keeping assuaged her fears in any way. The tall, dark haired woman calmly sitting beside her bore a regal bearing, and seemed completely unaffected by the silence between them. That was not to say that she didn't notice the silence—in fact, Haruka had a feeling that this woman was exceedingly aware every molecule in their surroundings—but, in her calculating manner, words were not necessary to further whatever plan she had at the moment.

The Imperial Teahouse, Suwa no Chaya, was in the center of Kyoko, nearly a mile away from the nearest car. Through the open windows Haruka could hear nothing but the rustling of leaves in the wind. In front of her, a tea pot and other accoutrements sat in perfect position, the tea having been served by her companion. It always unsettled Haruka: the way she was served tea in such a deliberate, if traditional, way.

"Let's not joust today with our words, Tenoh-shusho," the woman said, pink lipstick lightly marking the rim of her teacup. "We are both very occupied, and needn't waste time with formalities."

Haruka nodded. "Yes, Kotaigo." She preferred to keep these meetings short.

The darker skinned woman held her cup in her hands, one palm cupping the bottom of the tea, feet in seiza position. "I'm afraid that I have nothing new to speak about, nor any requests. The war is still a very volatile subject, even though the actions I know you are planning are unavoidable. Any Communist resistance must be quickly and efficiently dealt with, if you are to continue your position."

Haruka nodded, trying to hide a frown. The other woman always referred to her job as Prime Minister as her "position", as if Haruka were a median-range salary man. But Haruka also knew that, without this woman's support, she would never have gotten it.

"I have Queen Iono's support on that action as well," Haruka reported. "Though I'm sure you already knew that."

The other woman did not answer, merely sipped her tea.

Haruka did not rise to her bait of silence. "How's Fiore-sama?"

"He is well," the dark haired woman replied. "How is your daughter?"

"She is doing well, also," Haruka said. "She is excited to meet her violin idol, Kaioh Michiru, tomorrow, at the General's Dinner."

The other woman put her teacup down. "If that is all of our necessary exchange, please allow me to return to my duties," she said. "Have a pleasant afternoon, Tenoh-shusho."

Haruka nodded, easing onto her feet. Less time spent in the other's presence was always welcome, as she felt the pressures of what she was trying to accomplish settle more heavily on her shoulders with each conversation. Being a woman, in her position, was a burden that she could never forget to bear with the utmost of her abilities, for future women's fates depended on her and the dark haired woman's efforts.

The Prime Minister took one last look around the tea house, looking to see if she had left anything behind and settled her eyes on the dark skinned woman, still kneeling and sipping tea. She was beautiful to look at, commanding respect and awe, and guarded her own secrets with effortless ferocity. Haruka bowed.

Her garnet eyes bore into Haruka when she lifted her head from her bow and spared a quick glance before leaving. A sharply glittering jewel: that was how Haruka viewed Meioh Setsuna, Empress Dowager of Japan.


"Oh I'm SO excited!!!" Hotaru squealed, displaying some uncharacteristic liveliness by nearly rolling on the floor with glee. She settled on the arm of a couch, before fluttering over to a mirror, adjusting her dress for the nth time, practically vibrating with excitement.

Haruka chuckled, absently checking her cufflinks. In a few moments Elsa would have their car ready to take them to the reception. Haruka had entertained the idea of wearing her military dress uniform, in order to fit in with the military crowd, but she decided against it. No need to compete with the decorated generals and commanders whom she was supposed to be honoring.

The woman who had helped pick out her outfit was currently on her cell phone, typing out something, probably surfing the web. Occasionally, Minako would giggle, making Haruka wonder if the PR Director ever did a lick of real work on that gadget. The long-haired blonde had come early in order to go over the schedule for the evening, which followed the standard dinner-then-speech pattern before shifting to the musical performance.

"Why is Kaioh-san performing at this particular function?" Haruka asked Minako, the question having plagued her. It also made her uncomfortable to have Minako in her home, with Hotaru. Seeing the two representatives of her home life and her political persona together made her uneasy. Also, Minako was absolutely hopeless around children and tended to say something inappropriate, embarrassing, or both. "Wouldn't a performance have been better suited for some arts gala or museum opening?"

Minako tilted her head. "Yes, that would have been better. In fact, I was suggesting some of those very events—heck, I would have created one out of the thin air!—but she insisted on the soonest possible time. She didn't seem too put off by this being mostly a military photo-op."

"Why would she want to perform as soon as possible?" Haruka queried, still not settled. "Does she have a new album coming out?"

"I looked into that," Minako assured with the self-confidence of a high school gossip queen. "And she has no scheduled CD's hitting stores or a planned tour." She shrugged. "Maybe she had some "artist's whim" and wanted to play for you, I don't know." She wrinkled her nose in annoyance before looking back at her cell phone.

Haruka sighed. "I guess she couldn't stay away from me any longer, the most famous woman in ALL JAPAN," she said imperiously, loudly enough for Hotaru to hear, and then striking a "handsome" pose. The young teen scowled, at that age where she was starting to get easily embarrassed by just about anything Haruka said, but she couldn't stop a small giggle. Haruka turned to Minako, wiggling her eyebrows, and the younger woman held up a V-sign in approval without looking up from her texting.

The PR Director finally stuck her phone back into her purse and pulled out a sheaf of papers from her purse. "All right, Shusho, here's your speech. It comes after dinner, before the performance. I suggest a strong tone with hints of warmth." Haruka had to admit that—though she was better at flying jets than anything else—if someone put a typed sheet of paper in front of her, she could deliver a good speech. Tucking the notes into her jacket, she reached for her cell phone that was vibrating within the inside pocket.

"The car is prepared, Shusho," Elsa's lightly accented voice crisply declared when Haruka brought the phone to her ear.

"Thank you," Haruka replied, and led the trio out the front door.

Haruka chuckled as she led Hotaru into the large hall, placing a comforting hand on her back at the sight of a room full of serious-faced men. Upon seeing Hino Rei, the reporter, waiting for them at the entrance, Minako had immediately clammed up and, after a few awkward moments, mumbled an excuse and slipped off somewhere. The Prime Minister was enjoying this new, shy side of Minako, wickedly relishing her discomfort for the time being. Hotaru, now in silent, public mode, merely shared an amused smile with her parent, acknowledging the joke.

The embedded reporter, perceptive as always, raised an eyebrow at Minako's behavior and Haruka's corresponding amusement, but didn't comment. Now Haruka was the lone blonde among two black-haired women and gallantly led them toward their table. Checking her watch, Haruka saw that there was still some time before dinner.

Haruka walked around the hall for a bit, speaking to some politicians and military officials she knew, Hotaru trailing behind her like a shadow, politely echoing her parent's greetings, Hino-san being even more unobtrusive. Haruka did make sure to loudly say the name of everyone she spoke with, in case the reporter was taking mental notes. At one point the raven-haired woman excused herself to go to the bathroom, and Haruka nodded, pointing its direction.

As she turned around after pointing, she almost poked a man in the eye. "Whoa, my apologies sir… Mamoru!" Haruka's contrite face turned into a smile at seeing her childhood friend. In deference to the somber mood of the room, she merely clasped Mamoru's arm. "I'm very glad to see you here," she said sincerely.

The tall man gripped her arm just as tightly. "I'm glad to have gotten the invitation," he said, and turned to Hotaru. "And did you two receive your invitation to our particular party?" Hotaru nodded, shoulders relaxing a bit in the presence of someone familiar.

Haruka elaborated. "Excellent card," she complimented. "We have the date saved, absolutely." The Prime Minister looked around. "Where's Usagi?" Haruka asked. She spotted her friend, just as Mamoru chuckled and gave his answer.

"At the hor d'oeuvre table, of course," he replied, and sure enough, she was happily piling a small plate overly full with Makoto's delicious treats. The two childhood friends shared a rueful smile; as much as Usagi was the kindest, most generously open-hearted woman they had ever known, and much as she was devoted to Mamoru, the pair knew that her first love would always be food.

"At least someone will enjoy themselves immensely tonight," Haruka remarked, eyeing the rest of the room. "I've rarely seen such a crowd of humorless looking individuals." Indeed, the room was populated by a number of celebrated military officers, the weight of the medals on their chests coinciding with the depth of their frowns.

"They may be dour, but I know of at least three people who are excited to hear Kaioh-san's music, ne, Hotaru-chan?" Mamoru asked, reaching over and squeezing the teen's shoulder. Hotaru's dark head nodded, smiling a little, still maintaining a solemn air despite her anticipation. Hotaru had always acted this way in public, despite her general exuberance around her friends, and Haruka hadn't felt a need to address that behavior as incorrect. Her daughter had never been rude to anyone, merely quiet, and in the present day's political bubble, perhaps that was for the best.

Haruka agreed with Mamoru. "We're lucky," she said, and she sorely felt it. Three orphans stood together, and Haruka felt a sudden rush of emotion, seeing how far they had come, grateful for what they had. This rush of emotionality left her a bit unbalanced, so she took a deep breath, then gazed down at her daughter. "Hotaru-chan, could you stay with Usagi-san while I enjoy my task of mingling with our honored guests?" Her daughter nodded, and they both turned to see Usagi approaching with a plate stacked high with food in one hand, and already bringing the snacks to her mouth with the other. "Please pardon me, Usagi-chan, as I do my duties," Haruka said, excusing herself. Usagi bowed as well as she was able with full hands and a full mouth.

"I'll come with you," Mamoru offered. Haruka nodded, and the pair went off, with Haruka's last look showing Hotaru gingerly pulling something off of Usagi's plate.

It wasn't often that Mamoru could find his way into one of the many staid dinners that Haruka hosted. Being a junior Diet member, he still didn't have access to the many networking perks that more senior members enjoyed. But unlike many of his political peers, he had served in the War, and could easily relate to many of the distinguished guests this particular night. Like Haruka, Mamoru wore a civilian suit, but their experiences allowed them to engage in thoughtful conversations with the old soldiers, who gradually warmed to them. The pair made such a politely charming duo that no one took notice of how politically advantageous their mingling was. Haruka showed, with her friendship with Mamoru, that she remembered her friends in the war, which would include the officers at this reception. For Mamoru, this was a way to gain some points amongst the military elite, and network for the future. At times it disgusted Haruka how easily 'schmoozing' came to her, and occasionally she wanted to throw her hands up in disgust at the whole system. But despite the carefully balanced artifice and Minako's micro-managing and constant bowing and hand shaking, Haruka always remembered that what she was doing, who she was representing, was bigger than herself. Her success—and at certain points Haruka felt she could barely keep her office unblemished, let alone "successful"—would determine the path of women in Japanese national politics for the present, and for years to come.

There were also some short term reasons for this dinner. Though Haruka had publicly promised to start pulling troops from the peninsula, she knew that the old dogs who were populating this dinner party would need some assurance that she wasn't going to destroy the military budget in the process. The support of the military was important to her platform of reaching across boundaries such as the one between politics and the armed forces, and she tread a delicate line between placating a traditionally insular public opinion and the desire of the military to conquer and drive away all enemies of the state.

Eventually, Haruka drifted back to her table, Hotaru already impatiently shifting in her seat beside her. The Prime Minister's arrival usually signified the beginning of the meal, and within ten minutes waiters began carrying out food. The food was delicious, and Haruka looked around for Makoto, noting the chef's absence. She had insisted that Mako-chan attend, making the arrangements with Minako and ensuring that the tall brunette would be seated beside Mizuno-sensei, whom Haruka saw wearing a fetching blue dress a few tables away. It seemed the chef was sabotaging Haruka's plans, only occasionally emerging from the kitchen, though she wore a lovely green outfit at odds with the bustling cooks and birkenstocked wait staff clad in black and white.

Though the meal was delicious, a tight ball had formed in Haruka's stomach. She felt nervous, and she couldn't wait to get her speech over with. Generally, Haruka was an excellent public speaker, only suffering rare bouts of anxiety, but it seemed like today would be one of those rare times.

Sensing her parent's mood, probably from the tight lines she could see forming around Haruka's mouth, Hotaru lay a hand on Haruka's arm. Putting down her fork, which, due to her nerves, only held tasteless morsels, Haruka took her daughter's hand and smiled. From then on she nibbled her food, but maintained a deceptive equilibrium.

Dinner was soon over, and Hotaru was already overcome with teenaged boredom, gathering enough energy to give Haruka a good luck smile. Haruka stood unobtrusively and made her way towards the "stage", which was really just a small raised area that was just big enough to include a podium and several chairs and music stands, ostensibly for Kaioh's accompaniment. In the car she had looked over the speech, and approved, making only a few cosmetic changes. She saw Minako and stood beside her, and the PR director brushed some lint off of the Prime Minister's jacket. The lights dimmed and the crowd hushed, and Haruka climb up the one step onto the dais, confidently striding to the podium.

The bright light on the platform, coupled with the darkened room, made seeing any features in the crowd impossible. Butterflies were flying in her stomach, but Haruka remembered who she was, and who was rooting for her out there in the darkness, and unfolded her paper. She began to speak.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for coming today. I hope that everyone has had a chance to meet and mingle with out nation's finest officers. You all have secured our victory, and continue to hold the delicate peace in your hands.

"We're coming upon a difficult time. As you know, there will be cuts to the military budget. These are mandated by our people, and by our people's representatives. We are going to have to restructure, tear down things we have built, and become leaner. Our time is waning, and we must relinquish some of the privileges to which we have become accustomed.

"Indeed, to serve our country is a privilege. To revel in our prowess, to be successful in our ventures, to protect the lives of our countrymen: these are privileges that many of you accomplished leaders have finally, finally been able to exercise after so many decades of stagnation. You have proven that Japan is not only a leader in technology, but a military force with which they must take into account and accept. And now that the threat is gone, we must prove that we are also above military strong-arm tactics and that guns are still not our only weapon.

"We have no choice. Rather, the choice is superseded by the needs of our people. For more than half a century we have cultivated our country without a military, and to that construct we must continue to aspire. The samurai must lay down his sword to grow the field, to govern the land, to enrich our people. The soldier must return to the lands he protected, and remember why he protected it in the first place. To make war is not our only strength: why is it that we can weather and outlast the same economic crises that other countries face? Why is it that we withstand any typhoon, any tsunami, any earthquake?

"It is because we are a strong people, a driven people. Our greatest resource is ourselves, and I intend to invest in our future, and not dwell long on the conflicts of the past. Though I may be asking you to cut your budgets, I want our greater goal to be a leaner, more efficient defense force that concentrates on the future and the technology from which we, a country as a whole, can benefit.

"We will never outnumber our opponent. Our success, however, is not dependant on the mass of our army, or the strength of our bombs, but on the willpower of our people. Remember the ideals we have held to, and remember the work we have put into them. We can't always be perfect, or correct, but we can certainly try. And this, my friends, is the first step.

"So, I applaud your bravery. Not only have we as a country asked you to be the first to leap into enemy territory, but also be the first to step in the right direction. While I host this dinner for you as a gesture of my gratitude, in the end, it is a gesture for you to walk side by side with me, as we face our certain future. I applaud you, in fact I ask everyone in this room to applaud you, for the work you have done, and the work that continues to call for us. Let us work together, from now on."

Haruka took a moment, maintaining her serious mien. Applause thundered through the room, and she couldn't pick out any particular person that seemed outraged from her speech. But then again, though her eyes had adjusted, she still couldn't see too well into the darkened room.

After the clapping had ceased, the Prime Minister allowed a smile to grace her face. "It is my great honor to introduce this musician, though she needs no introduction." Haruka felt a pang of nervousness sit like a rock in her stomach as she looked across to the stage's edge, where the woman would make her appearance. She didn't see any movement, the side of the raised stage an inky blackness. Haruka pulled her fingers into a fist, raising her left hand, willing strength to her limb. At the top, she released her hand, sweeping her arm grandly. "Kaioh Michiru!"

Swiftly Haruka managed to exit to the right, shaking legs taking her down the three steps before an aide helped her back to her table. The mix of adrenaline from the speech and something else made her shaky and jumpy, and she was glad to be seated again. She reached over and gripped Hotaru's hand, as much for her own comfort as her daughter's, and the happy young woman squeezed back.

Kaioh Michiru took a moment to enter the stage, and Haruka was already sitting before the musician became visible. Haruka watched with growing eyes. The ball in her stomach exploded and engulfed her, and her limbs were suddenly nerveless and without strength. At the same time, Haruka relaxed, now knowing where her anxiety stemmed. As she felt her body relax, Kaioh Michiru tensed as she immediately began her first piece.

The music was as achingly beautiful as Haruka remembered it, though the benefit of watching it live enhanced the experience exponentially. Kaioh's body was part of the music, flowing and shivering with the tempo and reverent feeling evoked in each piece. The backup band barely registered, so transcendent was her performance. Her physical prowess was only confirmed by a fast, jaunting piece in which she bounced a lemon for several minutes off her violin, eliciting enthusiastic cheers. And not only did she perform her songs, but she also spent a moment before each piece to explain its name and significance.

All too soon, the concert was nearing its end. There was one last song, and every member of the audience was hushed, excited yet saddened, thirsty but heartbroken that this would be their final drink from this ambrosia.

"This final song is, as it may be known in the contemporary pop music world, a 'remix,'" Kaioh began, her voice lilting and feminine. "I once wrote a song called "The White House", which revealed a dream I had once of my home as it is now: a haven by the beach. The song was a song of contentment, of satisfaction. This next piece is called "The White House's Dreams". I have never played this in public before, so I hope you enjoy it and interpret it as you will."

The silence's hungry anticipation that hovered over the room as the violinist positioned her instrument nearly crushed Haruka's chest. She knew the original piece to which the musician referred: it was a lovely song, supple and evoking pastel colors of comfort and warm sunshine. It was uniformly agreed by her fans that that song referred to the safe haven that Kaioh's ultra-secluded home provided.

This "remix" began with the recognizable melody, but as the song progressed, the audience began to wilt. The song was empty, and unlike Kaioh's other pieces, it lacked passion. Discordant notes marred the once easy melody. It wasn't until the very end, when it seemed the problem unbearable, and the audience was shifting uncomfortably, that the piece regained some resolve, and a quick resolution was forming. The solution to the emptiness was known, and the addition of it was creating a beautiful, fulfilled melody. As her bow whipped across the strings, Kaioh opened her eyes and looked straight at Haruka, her gaze blowing through her. No one else seemed to notice the intent in the musician's relaxed face, but the Prime Minister was set on edge.

The house band, a string quartet that had backed the premiere musician up, continued to play after Kaioh left the stage. At this point people stood up and began milling about, the wives of the military men in particular mingling with each other, reacquainting and meeting new people. Haruka glanced around, watching the patterns of people moving. A quick glance at a nearby table revealed that Makoto had not made it to the dinner table as Haruka had planned, and was instead keeping the dessert table maintained. Ami-san was chatting with a young man, and they seemed to be conversing amiably. Haruka twisted her mouth. Her matchmaking efforts tonight were in vain, and it seemed that she would have to take a more direct approach.

Rei-san was looking a bit bored, though her eyes seemed to be drawn to Usagi, who shared the table with her and Mamoru. The odango-atama had commandeered a giant plate of desserts, and Haruka stifled a laugh at the alarmed look on the journalist's face. 'I don't know where she puts it, either,' she replied in thought, as if telepathically speaking to Rei-san, whose expression had settled into a perplexed inquisitiveness when it seemed Usagi wasn't in imminent danger of exploding.

Haruka stayed in her seat, willing to let other people walk up to her. Hotaru sat beside her, idly working on a tiny bowl of chocolate mousse. Fortunately it seemed that the music put everyone in a better mood, so the conversations flowed, including between the Diet members and military officers that came up to pay their respects to the host.

Haruka was just feeling comfortable again, when she scented a familiar perfume. Or, at least, that was what she told herself when she looked up and her eyes immediately fell upon Kaioh Michiru, who was walking towards her, crowd parting in the space between them. Haruka was caught, trapped in the poetry of the woman's gliding walk and the perfect wave of her hair.

Too slowly to avoid embarrassment but too quickly for Haruka not to still be staggered, Kaioh Michiru was in front of her. The woman had a bright smile in her mouth, but her eyes reflected something mischievious, and roiling beneath the surface. "Good evening, Tenoh-shusho," she said, congenially.

Haruka licked her lips, mortified to have been caught staring, but unable to do anything about it. "Good evening, Kaioh-san," she replied. She sensed Hotaru's thrumming energy beside her, and flashed her daughter a quick smile. "And this is my daughter, Hotaru," she said, glad for the distraction to look away. The two bowed, and Haruka tried not to look too pleased with how happy Hotaru looked.

Hotaru couldn't contain herself. "May I ask you a question, Kaioh-san?" the teen asked, and Haruka felt a stirring of pride in her daughter's impeccable manners.

"Of course," the musician replied.

Hotaru chewed on her lip for half a second. "How old were you when you decided to become a professional musician?"

Kaioh-san seemed to give the question a thorough amount of thought. "Hmm, Hotaru-san," she began. "I'd say I was about four." When Hotaru's jaw dropped, the musician waved her hands in front of her modestly. "Between wanting to be a ballerina, actress, marine biologist, and Emperor of Japan, of course," she amended. She put a finger on her lower lip. "If I were to pinpoint an exact moment when I believed I would be able to play music professionally, I think that was when I was 13, and having judges and instructors telling me this on a daily basis. At that point, I was aiming for the Tokyo Philharmonic." She paused, and Haruka saw that she had Hotaru on the edge of her seat. "And lastly, when I finally understood I could write and produce my own music, and make a living from it… I still can't believe it!" Her hands moved excitedly, expressive even without an instrument. "Even after my first stadium concert, even after autograph sessions that had people lined up around the block, I was still convinced that the world was playing some sort of elaborate trick on me." She smiled, gently. "I only feel that it's truly real when I'm in my own home, and I touch the walls, just to be sure."

Her eyes returned to brush across Haruka's gaze before settling back onto the daughter. "And, of course, I get to meet you and your parent, Hotaru-san, a great honor for anyone." Hotaru blushed, head obviously swimming with the lengthy answer to her question and the proximity of her idol.

After hearing the other woman's lilting, feminine voice, Haruka's ears were almost assaulted by the sound of the house band, as unobtrusively as they might have been playing. Hotaru seemed overwhelmed, so Haruka jumped in. "Kaioh-san, do you enjoy listening to another person's violin?"

Blue eyes crashed into her. "As long as I'm not actively listening to them, since I tend to criticize quickly." She held out a hand. "Would you care to distract me with a dance?" Haruka's eyes flew back and forth between the other woman's face and hand. She seemed sincere, and it would be rude to refuse, so Haruka stood, almost without volition. She moved around the table and lifted the musicians hand by the wrist to rest gingerly on her arm. While she might have avoided something by not touching the woman's hand directly, she felt a full body chill that immediately switched to heat when the violinist gripped her bicep and lead them into the throng of people. Quickly, they made their way to the center of the dance floor, and Haruka held out her arms, idly wondering if she would be leading or following. The musician answered her question by resting one hand on Haruka's shoulder and the other in her grip.

Her waist and hand fit into Haruka's grasp as if they had been made for each other. The position was as natural and unthinking as when Haruka settled within her jet's cockpit, or the first time she had held Hotaru's tiny body. Her ears roared, while at the same time, she was attuned to the sound of the other woman's breaths. She was immediately present, yet felt detached from her body, watching herself begin leading a simple waltz. The other woman moved with her steps perfectly, and Haruka might not have been aware of their joined movement if not for the faint caress of the violinist's dress against her legs.

"You seem distracted," the musician noted after a few moments, startling Haruka from her reverie. The Prime Minister felt a little heat rush to her face, but she hoped that she managed to hide it well. Michiru giggled.

"My apologies, Kaioh-san," Haruka stuttered. "I feel like there is a lot going on here tonight, and not just buzz from your amazing performance."

"So you sense the restlessness as well, eh? Please, call me Michiru," the musician said. "Do you mind if I call you by your given name?"

Haruka shook her head. "That would be the surest way to get my attention in any situation, Michiru-san."

Michiru smiled again, and then leaned closer to Haruka, whispering conspiratorially, her breath light on Haruka's cheek. "Haruka-san…" she began, and the taller woman cursed her body for shivering. She could feel the other woman's lips curving up again into a smile. "This may sound conceited, but it does not happen often for my audience to be thinking of something other than me. And that man over there," Michiru pointed with her chin at General Yagami, who was sitting at his table, looking mostly absent from the conversation around him. "He had very little interest in my music tonight. He might have something weighing heavily on his mind."

Easily, Haruka slipped Michiru into a graceful spin, ending in a short dip. When she lifted the violinist back up, the musician's fingers moved to the back of the blonde's neck, lightly teasing the short hairs before returning down to her shoulder. Haruka felt a tingle that started at the four points of Michiru's fingertips and went down to her toes.

Clearing her throat, Haruka was still surprised at the huskiness of her own voice. "I guess that I must speak with him," she said unwillingly. "But not before this song is over," she finished, dipping Michiru one more time and leading them into a spin. The musician giggled and smiled in a way that made her seem much younger, and Haruka smiled back, effortlessly charmed and charming in return.

Moments later, the song had ended but it took a minute for the pair to realize it. Haruka let go of the fascinating woman in front of her, taking her hand to plant a kiss along her knuckles. She bowed deeply. "I hope we can speak once more before the evening is finished. And I hope you can find the time to converse with my daughter, Hotaru, who is your biggest fan" Haruka said, leading.

Michiru curtsied. "I will meet you on the balcony," she said, and then melted away into the crowd, immediately being set upon by various fans and impressed audience members.

Haruka turned quickly, not wanting to look as if she were watching her dancing partner go, and her eyes easily found General Yagami, pensively sitting at his table. He looked as if he were mustering a force field around him, discouraging other people from approaching, and even his wife was a few tables over, speaking with some other army wives.

The Prime Minister approached calmly, not wanting to put the old man on guard. An old wolf like him still had instincts enough to suss out that Haruka's approach had intent, and she didn't want him clamming up defensively before she even began speaking.

General Yagami eyed Haruka over his steepled fingers, both of them seated and regarding each other intently. The pilot still held Hotaru in her arms, though the young girl was a little restless from being held captive there and not understanding what anyone was saying around her. Haruka remained still, looking Yagami in the eye, awaiting his words.

"Of course," he began, "She cannot remain with you."

She didn't flinch, as she was anticipating this reaction. "She must. She has no one else. I was out there for days and days and no one came to take care of her. Her mother is dead."

The older man settled back into his chair. He gestured around him, at the tent that was his field office, and encompassing the easily heard hustle and bustle of an Army camp, deep in North Korean territory. He didn't need to say that this was no place for a child.

Haruka had prepared an argument on her way there. "With my leg injured, I won't be put on combat readiness for at least three weeks. In that time I can get her acclimated to whatever base I'll be flying out of, which will be back in the South. There will be people to care for her when I fly missions."

Yagami narrowed his eyes at her, and replied, "That may be the case, Captain, but when you return to your base, they won't let you bring that girl in. We can't have soldiers bringing in every sad-faced urchin that pulls their heartstrings. And if there's an attack, any kindly nurse you may coerce into caring for her will have her hands full with other tasks, and she'll get lost, underfoot, or both."

Haruka pressed her lips together. "Then I'll send her to Japan. I have friends who can care for her."

"Humph. So you'll send a girl who knows no Japanese back to the home country, without you, by herself," the General countered, giving Haruka a patronizing look. "I know that you feel responsible for this child, but her mother's death had nothing to do with you. There's bound to be an orphanage in the nearby town, and we should leave her with her people."

Haruka gripped Hotaru tighter, and the child, sensing her unease, began to fuss. The pilot let Hotaru climb down from her lap, though the girl didn't go far, keeping a palm on Haruka's knee. She looked up at the general, quietly studying him with her dark eyes.

"You are probably not aware of this General, but I was an orphan," Haruka confessed quietly. The words almost stuck in her throat, so unaccustomed she was to uttering them. She couldn't remember ever telling anyone of this fact, as the parties concerned had always already known. "This may not sway your logic, but I cannot, in my right mind, let Hotaru go. I can give her a home, a happy one, where she's wanted." Haruka put a hand atop Hotaru's and the small child flipped her palm around to grasp Haruka's thumb.

The older man did not seem swayed by her emotional outburst. "I could almost consider this possibility, but you do not have a home," he argued. "You do not have a spouse at home to care for the child while you are at war. You're young, so you don't know that the kindness of friends only lasts so long, and that eventually this child will be neglected. And you, Captain, will not even be aware of it. You'll be ignorantly sending letters and money, not knowing that your daughter is not being treated as she should. And when this war drags on—and I say when, not if—she will be persecuted for being from Korea, being a living example of the entrenchment from which Japan cannot extricate itself."

Haruka was impressed by the General impassioned words, but her heart was hardened against him and his arguments. "Then I thank you and the Army for your rescue, but we shall be returning to the shack on the mountain." She stood without being dismissed.

Yagami snorted. "Even if that possibility existed, the people to pick you up would be the Air Force, and you'll be imprisoned for desertion. The girl will be thrown into an orphanage anyway, and you will never be able to return to the peninsula."

The jet pilot lightly rubbed the tiny hand in hers. "Then, at least for a little while, she'll know that someone cares for her." She bowed, quickly. "Thank you for your time." She turned on her heel and walked out.

The cacophony of a working Army camp assaulted her as she opened the tent flaps and strolled out onto the grounds, Hotaru trailing behind. For a second, Haruka felt as if she were back in the blizzard, having absolutely no idea which way to go, though this time another human would be sharing her fate. The weight of the sky crushed down on her.

"Haruka-kun!" someone shouted. Spinning, the tall blonde's eyes cast about until she saw a waving hand, and attached to it, the handsome features of a friend.

"Mamoru-kun!" Haruka welcomed back, heartily accepting and giving a strong hug to the black-haired man. Pulling back, she drank deeply of his warm, blue-eyed regard. "I'm so glad to see you," she said.

The young man smiled. "Same here," he replied. "I didn't even know you'd been shot down until this morning, when we were debriefed about finding you." He clasped her arm solidly, taking comfort from her genuine flesh, as she took comfort from his strong grasp.

Mamoru looked down. "And who is this?" He knelt. "My name is Mamoru," he said in Korean.

After a morning spent shying from the harsh glares of everyone she had passed by, Hotaru beamed when met with Mamoru's kindliness. She bowed, and Haruka rewarded her manners by rubbing her hand.

For the next week, Haruka was worried that every footstep that passed her tent would belong to a soldier who was ordered to take Hotaru away. She even had conspired with Mamoru on a plan to be set in motion in case she were to be detained and Hotaru taken away. Nights were spent waking at the sounds of muffled voices and scuffled boots. Spare time was used for teaching Hotaru some basic Japanese phrases in preparation for either a move or a separation.

At the end of the week, the truck came for Haruka. The driver of the truck gave a second glance at Hotaru, but didn't make a fuss. Haruka nearly collapsed with relief, knowing that he had not received any orders to separate the two. Together they climbed into the back of the truck and rode south with a few other soldiers. Haruka held Hotaru's body extra close as they left the camp, until the tiny child squirmed to be loose. Making sure Hotaru didn't lean over the railing too far while viewing the passing scenery, Haruka made a prayer of thanks.

Her biggest blessing was sent to General Yagami. In doing nothing, he had given Haruka everything.

So it was with utmost respect that Haruka approached the old man. He looked as if the last few years had aged him considerably. Though the majority of the fighting on the Korean peninsula had long been over, the cleaning-up process was proving the most strenuous of all, and the signs of wear were visible in the craggy lines of his face.

Haruka approached the table, and then laid a hand on an unoccupied chair beside the weather general. "General Yagami," she began, bowing deeply when he turned his eyes to her. "May I sit?"

He gave a nod of acquiescence. In this corner of the room, Haruka could appreciate how a bubble was formed around them, away from chatting wives and the music of the house band.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" Haruka asked.

Yagami nodded, and then cleared his throat, as if realizing he was being a bit rude. "Yes, it was very good, Shusho" he complimented. "My wife tells me it is quite amazing that you managed to get Kaioh Michiru to attend and perform."

Haruka waved it off. "I am fortunate to have a gifted staff to handle these things for me. Unless they need a fighter jet salute, I'm pretty useless in these events." She smiled. He grudgingly nodded.

Haruka looked out towards where he was looking. Hotaru was speaking with the famous violinist, looking every bit the excited teenager she was. Haruka's heart swelled with love at the sight of her daughter's happiness, hoping that times like these would be more prevalent in the future.

Turning to business, the Prime Minister addressed the general. "General Yagami, what is occupying your mind?" she asked, politely. There were times to joust with words, but Haruka didn't feel like wasting their time, a shift that the general noticed.

He chewed on his lip, and by extension, his thick mustache. "There is something," he acceded, taking a deep breath. "But I'm not sure if it's wise to inform you of something that will cause you more problems than remaining ignorant."

Haruka locked her eyes onto his. "If there is one thing I've cherished after turning to politics, it is the truth. If this issue were to hurt me from my knowledge of it, then it is even more important that I know it as soon as possible, so that I can formulate a transparent, honest approach to presenting it my country, and to anyone else I must convince."

Vital, dark eyes, slightly hidden by deep wrinkles borne from decades of searching the horizon for danger and victory, returned her gaze steadily. "Someday, your ideals will be the end of you," he said. "If you cannot bend, you will break." He looked Haruka in the eye, and she returned his gaze.

"That being said, I will inform you of the actions my men are undertaking this very evening." He shifted, as if preparing for a long speech. "Near the Chinese/North Korean border, there's a small medical outpost, a clinic mainly for minor illnesses, cleft lip surgery, the like. It is headed by a Dr. Souichi Tomoe, and his background was not unlike all the other doctors wanting to do philanthropic work over on the Peninsula.

"But there have been disturbing reports coming out of there, and I took the liberty of looking in on his activities, he being Japanese and perhaps under the military's jurisdiction, if anybody's, out there." Here the man stopped. He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Intelligence discovered that he was running experiments, utilizing the native population as human test subjects. The locals are terrified of him, but they don't know who to turn to, and they are a bit remote, even for North Korea. Tonight I have a unit arriving to take the clinic, by force if necessary."

He steepled his fingers. "When the world hears about this, you will have to answer many questions. I do not envy you, for while I am the sword that is cutting the head of the serpent, the country will see you as the errant father unable to control his brood, while the world will see us—and by extension, you—as the mother who bore the evil. Especially when taking into account our country's past in regards to these crimes…"

Haruka tore her eyes away from the general's, trying to take deep breaths to relax her stiff body and calm her racing mind. This revelation and the implications were whirling through her mind like a cyclone, and she felt her senses numbing as the world narrowed to the air in front of her as she tried to process it all.

Yagami shifted in his seat again. "Would you like to order a halt of the operation? There might be a chance…"

Haruka held up a hand. "No, you have made a swift and correct decision." Across the room she stared at Hotaru, still happily conversing with the reclusive violinist, looking as glowing as Haruka had ever seen her. "I will call my staff together tonight to discuss how we will explain our prodigal son to our people and to the world. I want a report as soon as you hear of the mission's success, and continued information as it develops. I do not want to hear about any developments from the media first."

The pair sat in silence, contemplating their own thoughts. After many moments, the nerves in the Prime Minister's limbs seemed to return to life, and she excused herself. She made her rounds, speaking with the key members of her staff discreetly, and having them take inconspicuous turns at calling in any absent personnel.

Hotaru was sitting back at their table, looking a bit tired. Haruka gave her a kiss on the forehead. "In a minute we'll go home and go to bed, okay?" and she got a sleepy nod in reply.

Looking around, Haruka didn't see the musician, but she headed straight towards the opened doors that led to the outside terrace.

Michiru stood at the edge of the balcony, amazingly alone. She leaned on her elbows against the stone railing, and the moonlight gave her skin a slightly bluish tinge, as if she were a marble statue. Her pose, so determinedly staring into space, may have been what gave the people around her pause and relinquish elbow room to her. Who knows what a creative genius might be thinking, what majestic song the composing of which they might be interrupting?

As Haruka tentatively neared, the ex-pilot was taken back, again, to the cliffs of Korea, and staring out back towards Japan across the sea. Except before, where there was merely the sounds of the ocean hitting the cliffs and the background chorus of the melancholic strings of a violin, now there stood the living, breathing woman who had played those strings. As if aware of Haruka's presence, Michiru turned, and smiled. Haruka opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"Do I disconcert you?" the elegant woman asked, moving a few inches over, inviting Haruka to stand beside her on the railing.

"I wish I understood myself when I'm around you," Haruka admitted, slipping beside her and laying a hand on the cool marble. Was it the refreshing breeze that brought her sudden candor or the chilling thought that it seemed as if this woman read her mind? Looking out in the surrounding gardens below, the Prime Minister decided that she needed to clear the air.

"I feel like I want to know you." Haruka searched for the words, barely articulating them as they rose up in her mind. "But," she paused, swallowing and searching Michiru's face, wishing the moonlight would somehow reveal to her the answers she needed in the pale shadow of her long lashes or curve of her lip. "I feel like getting to know you would be… the end of the world."

Michiru looked up at the moon. "Do you think that if we… talked more, you would lose everything, Haruka-san?"

Haruka tightened her lips. "I think that if we became closer, it would be bad for Hotaru." The words were said without thought, but as a knee-jerk reaction.

"Because the kids would taunt her, not only because she is Korean, but because her mother likes other women? Are you afraid of some sort of media frenzy, calls for your resignation?" Michiru's voice did not get louder, but her voice carried farther into Haruka's ears with her intensity. "Don't think that she isn't old enough to handle the issue. Furthermore, don't use your daughter as an excuse against your own happiness." She was ruthless, and spared no punches. Her eyes, now turned to Haruka, were like a force of nature. She had to push back.

"I have a duty to my country, and as the first female Prime Minister, to do my job to the best of my ability. If the media heard of my having a relationship, no matter who it was with, all of my energy would be have to go to handling that instead of maintaining our security or passing laws." Haruka felt suddenly drained, as if telling Michiru exactly what her head was demanding were a physical thing.

The look that Michiru gave her was a physical thing also, expelling her breath and stabbing her heart. "I have responsibilities as well, Shusho. Don't you think that my career would be in jeopardy if my conservative constituency were to find out? Or that by being with a public figure such as you, I would lose my precious privacy?" The shorter woman took a deep breath, seeming to steady herself, while Haruka felt smaller and smaller.

"Look at us," Haruka said, scratching the back of her neck. "Arguing over something that doesn't even exist."

"Something that doesn't exist?" Michiru's face suddenly looked pitying, though for Haruka's sake or for her own, Haruka wasn't sure.

The Prime Minister felt a spark of anger. "I beg your pardon, but how can you say you know me? I've worked hard, and sacrificed a lot to get to where I am today. I can't just throw away all I have given to my country…" At this point she had to stop talking, because her voice was starting to get loud, and the other balcony occupants might listen in. She clenched her fist where it laid on the stone railing.

Michiru laid a hand on her fist, using thin but strong fingers to force Haruka's hand to loosen. Haruka ground her teeth together but felt her hand relax anyway. "I hope that someday soon you'll realize that I'm not asking for a sacrifice." The musician laid both hands on Haruka's, looking up into her face and for half of a second, pleading.

Abruptly, she pulled away and curtsied. The wind rustled her dress, whether it was trying to carry her away or push her to stay, Haruka couldn't tell. "Until then, I will wait for you at Ujiyamada," Michiru said, and then she swept away, back into the reception.

Haruka allowed herself a moment to watch her go. Then she put a smile on her face and wound her way through the crowd, to Hotaru and the meeting that awaited her.


A/N: Pop quiz! If Haruka was born in Nagoya, and Setsuna lives in Kyoko, the Imperial Palace, where will Michiru be waiting? And how does one come to this conclusion? Kudos for whomever guesses correctly first!

I apologize for the delay in updating, and hope this large chapter can make up for it a bit. That pesky Hurricane Ike came through and destroyed my workplace and a lot of the routine in my life, so writing was put by the wayside for a while. Fortunately, my home and my soft, mushy parts are intact, as well as my friends and family. And this story will absolutely be updated again, and soon. Like the title of this chapter, I fell into the trap of trying to do everything, and in chasing this impossibility, accomplished nothing!

So I thank you reviewers for egging me on, and reminding me that, while writing The Odyssey is all well and good, writing anything at all is better! Thank you!