Chapter Nine
Tokyo, January 27, 2000
New life, new girlfriend. There were plenty of girls and Haruka had picked one at random. Why not, since she'd heard Michiru was having her fun in Vienna (with a man).
She'd forbidden anyone to mention her birthday, but still, she came home that night to find her new girlfriend sprawled naked on her new bed in her new apartment, wearing an expression of vapid seduction that made Haruka squirm.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her exasperation mistaken for play.
"Well," the girl giggled. "I thought it was about time I seduced you, since you haven't tried to do it to me yet."
It was on the tip of Haruka's tongue to reply, maybe that's because I don't want to, but she bit back the response. Michiru. Michiru had already found someone else, a conductor, a respected professional of the classical music world, a man, the sort of man Michiru's family had always wanted her to be with.
Haruka could just imagine the letters of congratulations that were streaming in from her parents, so long estranged.
She turned to her new girlfriend with a smile made brittle by hidden tears. "I'm tired tonight. Maybe another time?"
The girl pouted. "But it's your birthday," she exclaimed in a childish sing-song voice.
Already she was reaching for Haruka, taking off her clothes, running her hands over smooth skin that she never would have guessed had known the touch of fire.
The last of Haruka's burn scars had disappeared just a month ago. She'd thought she'd carry the marks of her ordeal forever, and had taken a perverse kind of pride in that knowledge; was almost disappointed when she began to heal. Now, her skin was whole, but it felt like it was barely holding together what was left of her shattered insides.
No one but Michiru had ever touched Haruka like this before, and the echo of her touch, so much deeper than this skimming of the surface, stirred up unbearable longings in Haruka's heart. How much she'd wanted in those long, pain filled nights in the hospital just to reach out and find Michiru's hand. She knew Michiru was always there, suffering from her own recovering wounds, waiting for Haruka to speak, but she never allowed herself to do it. Not when she remembered the lies, the deceit, the ghost of Tamiko which would ever stand between them.
"Don't," Haruka said, grabbing the girl's wrist when she reached between her legs. "I'll…touch you, but I don't want you to touch me, okay?"
"Why not?" The girl blinked owlishly. "Are you really a stone butch?" Her tone was more curious than accusatory.
All these stupid, meaningless labels. The ridiculousness of it made Haruka let out a short, savage bark of laughter. "No, I…"
I don't want to be touched by anyone but her.
"I can't, that's all."
The girl shrugged and flopped back down onto the bed. "Whatever. As long as you do me I don't mind."
Do me?
Haruka winced inwardly at the crudeness. She felt no desire whatsoever for this mixed-up girl who seemed to think that intimacy was like playing a cheap parlour trick, but the situation had gone somewhat beyond her control. She lowered herself onto the girl and gave her what she wanted, and afterwards, alone in the sterile kitchen, she cried.
Tokyo, Early May, 2002
Slowly, as spring advanced, Michiru learned to fight with her scar. She still wasn't as good as before, but she found ways to compensate. If she could, she used her special attacks before moving in to close combat. She learned to spot her enemies' weaknesses quickly and exploit them. One time, she released a dam and drowned a whole legion of Sparklers without even getting within singeing range.
Haruka seemed happy enough to accommodate her new style, using her greater physical strength to back up Michiru's strategies.
The Talismans, however, remained a problem. Michiru wouldn't use her Mirror, Haruka couldn't use the Sword, and Michiru still didn't want to broach the subject of blood. Setsuna commented dryly that in the event of a serious large-scale attack, Haruka and Michiru would be about as much use as a pair of wounded dwarves compared to what they were before, and unhappily, Michiru had to agree.
Meanwhile, the opening night of the Rite of Spring was fast approaching. It was both stressful and strangely comforting to Michiru that she had her old double life back. She would go to practices bone weary with exhaustion and still somehow find the strength and the will to play. Her wardrobe expanded to include more trousers, long skirts and long sleeved shirts for their invaluable use in concealing injuries. She began to remember how it felt to play with the awareness that her own fragile body was all that stood between the world and its destruction.
The incredible pain of that, and the beauty.
Everyone came to the opening night except for Haruka, but Michiru got the feeling she was watching anyway. Something crackled through her that night as she played, a spark she thought extinguished forever. She heard her violin soaring and for the first time since the night on the Hill she recognised the sound of her own music. Her chest felt torn open by the end of the performance, but oh, it was worth it. Worth the sacrifice to reclaim her voice.
And then, a week later, Haruka nearly died.
Funnily enough, the monster responsible wasn't one that had been sent by Metalia. It was just the ordinary sort, a vagabond of the galaxy looking for easy prey. Once upon a time, Michiru and Haruka would have dispatched it together without even breaking a sweat.
It landed on the beach at sunset. A remote beach, far from the city, with no human habitation as far as the eye could see. If Michiru had seen a picture of it she would have called it a sea serpent, and for all she knew it could indeed have swum the Earth's oceans in some far off primordial past. With the world around them turning to molten gold it writhed and hissed upon the sand; Haruka and Michiru transformed into two tiny silhouettes of courage that stood confronting its monstrous coils.
The creature wasn't smart, but it was huge and strong, and their attacks had no more effect upon it than to make it mad. Glancing at Haruka's stubborn expression as she prepared for another World Shaking, Michiru was suddenly weary. They would defeat this foe, eventually, but how long was it going to take? How many hours of fighting still lay before them?
About as much use as wounded dwarves Setsuna had said, and she was right. Neither Michiru nor Haruka were willing to claim back their full power, and until they did they would always be fighting far below the standard they had once maintained.
Michiru grabbed Haruka's arm. "Uranus, wait."
Haruka raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly. Her body was tense, longing for battle, but Michiru didn't let her go.
With one thought the Mirror was in Michiru's hand. Her synapses snapped to attention, adrenaline coursing through her veins as the Mirror fused with her senses and brought everything into razor sharp focus. The wash of silver light was so strong it even pushed back the rays of the sun, and as the monster screamed and trembled Michiru saw the spot glowing on its forehead. The secret, vulnerable place where Haruka's Sword would find victory.
Already Haruka should have been moving, but she wasn't. Michiru glanced towards her with a question forming on her lips. It died when she saw the expression on Haruka's face.
Cold and distrustful, Haruka stood with her back to their foe and her Sword pointed at Michiru's chest. Her eyes were hard, glinting with menace. She met Michiru's shocked gaze defiantly then focused resolutely on the Mirror, as if expecting it to be turned next upon her.
Michiru's chest was aching at the sight of the Sword and the glow from her Mirror was fading. An incongruous bubble of laughter threatened to erupt at the ridiculousness of the situation; at the fact that Haruka's trust in her was so utterly broken she would perceive Michiru as the bigger threat and turn her back on an Enemy to face her.
The sea monster suffered no such confusion. Seeing its foes distracted, it lunged forward with a great roar, grabbed Haruka in its jaws and plunged into the sea. Michiru didn't even have time to scream a warning. There was suddenly just the empty beach and Haruka's dropped Space Sword lying before her on the sand.
Almost stupidly, Michiru blinked and picked it up. She couldn't have said why she did it, other than a sort of calling in her blood that made her long to feel the Sword in her hand. Strangely as she held it the pain in her chest faded, and she looked towards the ocean with ice cold hate in her eyes. That thing had taken her partner; perhaps killed her. It was going to die a lonely and bloody death in the deep. Michiru would make sure of it.
Securing both the Mirror and the Sword, Michiru dived into the waves and let the sea embrace her. It was easy to feel the monster's path in the disturbance of the currents around her. She was hardly even aware she was swimming; she was moving so fast it was more like she was being propelled through the water from sheer will, her Mirror shining in one hand and the Sword gleaming in the other.
To her knowledge, no senshi had ever wielded another's Talisman before, and she wasn't even sure the Sword would respond to her. She'd been its enemy once and perhaps still was in Haruka's eyes. But it was the only weapon available with the capacity to defeat this monster, and so Michiru held her breath and hoped.
She was gaining on the creature fast. Its taint was all around her, like flecks of grease and metal against her skin, but suddenly Michiru caught a sense of something else as well. A warm, faint pulse of light that beat steadily with the strength and scent of Haruka. Michiru's own heartbeat quickened in relief.
As they went deeper into the sea, the light of the world faded but the reflection of Michiru's Mirror did not fail her. Up ahead in the inky darkness she finally detected the shape of the monster. It was cutting through the water with who knew what purpose in its primitive mind, still gripping the apparently unconscious Uranus in its jaws.
Michiru began to draw alongside, prompting a vicious swipe from the sea serpent's tail. She swerved to one side and put on a final spurt of speed, at last overtaking the monster and blocking its path. It recoiled in the light of the mirror, opening its mouth to roar in pain and inadvertently letting the limp form of Uranus go.
There wasn't time to rescue her; the serpent saw Michiru's distraction and heaved its muscular body into hers, slamming her into an underwater cliff and trying to crush the life out of her. Struggling to stop herself from releasing vital bubbles of air, Michiru managed to raise the Sword and hack into the coils restraining her, gaining enough leeway to wriggle free.
The serpent lunged at her again but she was ready. Swimming straight as a bullet Michiru drove the Sword deep into the pulsing spot on the serpent's forehead and immediately felt its death. It thrashed madly, churning up a whirlpool of sea and blood, before floating listlessly and starting its spiral into the oblivion of the depths.
Michiru didn't care; she wasted no further thought on it. Her eyesight was darkening at the edges but she couldn't leave yet. She could still feel the faint pulse of her partner's life and she followed it down, past the falling coils of the serpent, until she caught the white gleam of Uranus's uniform. And, in that moment, as if the universe wanted her to learn the meaning of futility and despair, she felt the precious golden spark of Uranus's inner flame go out.
Eyes closed, body limp Uranus was like a helpless doll, sinking silently into the vastness of the ocean not even knowing of her own coming death. But dead or not Michiru wasn't about to leave her there. She grasped her hand and began to haul her up, towards the surface. Towards life.
With a gasp, Michiru broke through the surface of the water with the stricken Haruka in her arms. The sun had set and twilight was almost over. Already the world was settling into soft blue hues and the evening star was shining in the sky. Michiru had angled their ascent so they were as close to the shore as possible. Within a few powerful strokes she could feel the ground beneath her feet, and soon she was tumbling out of the breakers with her stricken comrade to fall messily onto the sand.
Getting unsteadily to her feet, Michiru dragged Haruka higher up the beach, carelessly tossing both the Mirror and the Sword aside. She felt for a pulse, listened for a heartbeat, but there was nothing. Haruka wasn't breathing.
No, Michiru thought. This wasn't Haruka herself. Only Haruka's body was here.
It wasn't fair that Michiru could finally touch her now, when she lay so quiet, all her power extinguished. She seemed otherwise uninjured, nothing besides a few scrapes and bruises, but it made no difference. Haruka had been too long underwater, too long in Michiru's element. The sea had claimed her life.
"No," Michiru whispered. "No."
Hardly even believing it would work, she placed her hands on Haruka's chest. She could sense the seawater clogging her lungs, stopping her breath and starving her blood.
"Out!" Michiru felt it; the seawater in Haruka's body moving sluggishly in response to her command. She pushed down harder, pouring every ounce of strength she possessed into bending this tiny piece of ocean to her will. "OUT! Get out of her! Get out!"
Haruka's body convulsed; hurriedly Michiru turned her onto her side as she vomited up the sea and began to breathe again in great, gasping gulps.
Dazed eyes looked up into Michiru's. Haruka struggled to move, but Michiru placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.
"Don't," she whispered, her words almost lost beneath the crash of the breakers. "Don't try to move yet. You're safe." Even as she spoke that final word Michiru's mouth twisted in pain. With the crisis over her fear was fast turning to anger. How dare Haruka do this; how dare she risk both their lives by turning her back on an enemy; how dare she trust Michiru so little.
And underneath that, a deeper hurt raged. Too clearly Michiru saw how little progress they had made, how deep the wounds were. She was staring now into the face of reality, and it was telling her that things might truly be too far gone to ever be repaired. All those stupid little dreams she'd been harbouring, the ones so fragile she hadn't even let herself think of them, couldn't survive the onslaught. They died on that windswept beach with the terrible knowledge of Haruka's actions.
Abruptly Michiru stood and turned away. She was shaking; tears pouring down her face. She couldn't be bothered to stop them.
Behind her, she heard Haruka struggling to her feet.
"Neptune…"
"Fool," Michiru said sharply. "What did you think I was going to do? What?"
She stalked over to the discarded Talismans and swept both of them into her hands. Haruka flinched slightly when Michiru held the Mirror towards her.
"This – is what I use on Enemies. I used it on you once before, but never again, Uranus; not under any circumstances. You have my word on that. If you can't believe me – if you can't trust me enough to believe that – then we can't work together. This whole thing is pointless."
She threw the Space Sword at Haruka's feet. "I return this to you. Take it up. If I am truly the one you see as your worst Enemy; the nemesis most worthy of that Sword, then so be it."
Haruka took an unsteady step forwards. "Neptune…you're bleeding." It was all she managed before her knees buckled and she fell face first into the sand.
Only after Haruka spoke did Michiru realise she was right. Her left calf was on fire, and when she looked down it was a bloody mess. In all the chaos, she hadn't even noticed. She flicked her eyes back to Haruka. If she stayed face down like that she would suffocate, after all the trouble Michiru had gone to.
Swearing under her breath, Michiru went to her and placed her in something approximating the recovery position. If anyone had pointed out that the recovery position did not strictly require the patient to have her head cradled, Michiru would not have taken it kindly. Exhaustion was creeping into her bones. She could feel that her transformation was about to end, and then her injury would get worse. How would she get Haruka home? They'd flown here in senshi form, but they clearly weren't leaving like that.
The easiest thing for now was to just sit on the beach holding Haruka's head in her lap, listening to the waves while the wind caressed her skin. Gently, Michiru ran her fingers through Haruka's hair. How well she remembered the feel of those strands, smooth and fine as spun gold. It had been Michiru's birthright once to touch Haruka like this, and it was only now, when she did it as a forbidden act, that she truly appreciated what she'd lost.
Peacefully Haruka slept. The last two years might never have happened. If only it could stay that way. If only…
And then, at last, reinforcements came. A helicopter landed on the cliff above the beach, the chop of its propeller shattering the night time quiet. Two figures alighted and quickly descended. Pluto and the Princess, silvered in the light of the rising crescent moon.
The Princess reached them first. "Michiru! Haruka! I felt—" There was raw fear in her voice as she flicked her gaze from one woman to the other. Of course the Princess would have felt it; they all would have. The death of a senshi.
"We're okay," Michiru managed. She licked her dry lips, tasting salt. "We're both okay." Despite her words, her voice wavered and she had to stop.
Pluto placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let's get the two of you home. Can you stand?"
Michiru nodded. "I can walk. Haruka…you'll have to carry her."
With a nod, Pluto picked up the still unconscious Haruka and began to carry her back towards the chopper. If she'd had the energy, Michiru might have been surprised at her easy show of strength.
Haruka's sword was still lying on the ground. After a moment of hesitation Michiru rescued it and secured it next to the Mirror. The Princess gave her an odd look but didn't ask questions. She merely did what was needed and offered Michiru her shoulder for support.
Despite the pain in her leg, Michiru realised that strangely, her chest wasn't hurting at all.
Several days passed, during which Haruka was advised to rest and the gash in Michiru's leg healed into a jagged scar. Michiru was glad the injury didn't interfere with her participation in the Rite of Spring concerts, though she did have to invent a story to account for her limp.
There was a debriefing with the Princess on Monday afternoon. Even before the meeting Michiru made it clear that, as far as she was concerned, its purpose was to discuss the dissolution of her partnership with Haruka.
Usagi demurred and said they would see.
The three of them met awkwardly in Usagi's living room. She poured out tea and offered cookies, which neither Haruka nor Michiru took.
With a sigh, Usagi bit into one herself and looked sorrowfully at her soldiers. Michiru almost would have preferred her to be angry.
"I'm glad you're both all right."
Michiru wanted to say no thanks to Haruka, but she bit her tongue. Probably the thought was clear on her face anyway.
"Michiru – you were very courageous. Haruka—"
"Don't compliment me Princess, I don't deserve it."
As Haruka spoke, her expression was closed. What did she feel about being saved by Michiru; being outdone by her? Anger? Resentment? Pride? Whatever her emotions, Michiru couldn't tell. She'd wrapped everything up into a tiny ball and hidden it deep in her heart.
"My actions that night were stupid, cowardly. I endangered myself and my partner. I owe Michiru a lot." It was said grudgingly, but the words were there. Though Michiru wondered just who had been working on Haruka beforehand and for how long to even get her to a point where she would admit that.
"You shouldn't have placed me in that position," Michiru said coldly. "I know we fought each other once before, hurt each other, but that's in the past. You keep talking about your duty and how important it is to you, but you won't even consider how your behaviour towards me is endangering all of us. Endangering Her."
They both glanced at Usagi but she said nothing. Only continued to observe with her big, understanding eyes.
"Did the sword hurt you, when you used it?"
"What?" Cold sweat prickled under Michiru's arms. So, Haruka did know something about the connection between herself and the Sword. She'd suspected as much. But just how much did she know?
"I know it hurts you when I use it. That's why I haven't been. But, when you used it…?"
"It didn't hurt me," Michiru admitted in a faltering voice.
Haruka's reply was flat and ironic. "Weird. I don't even understand my own weapon any more. Maybe we should swap. I'll use the Mirror and you can use the Sword."
"Can you use the Mirror?"
"I don't know."
"Well – why don't you try?"
Rather uncomfortably, Haruka took the proffered Mirror and turned it over in her hands a few times, as if getting used to the feel of it.
"What do I do?"
"Concentrate."
All three women sat there with the cooling tea and the plate of cookies before them, while outside birds were chirping in the garden. Nothing happened.
Haruka gave a humourless laugh. "Well, that isn't fair at all. Michiru can use both the Talismans and I can't even use one. How the hell are we supposed to fight like this?"
Michiru felt Usagi's eyes shift to her. It seemed she was waiting for Michiru to say more, to speak of the scar on her chest and her blood in the Sword. Maybe this was all Michiru's fault. She knew things she wasn't telling Haruka, things that affected their ability to fight. But she couldn't talk about it. She couldn't.
"I think," said Usagi.
Both senshi immediately gave her their full attention.
"I think I made a mistake. I thought it would improve things if the two of you started to work together, but I'm pushing you too hard. There is too much hurt here. I can see that now. Michiru, you can partner with Hotaru from now on. Haruka, with Setsuna. That way you'll both be able to use your Talismans."
"What if everyone has to fight together?" asked Haruka.
"Then try to stay out of each other's way on the battlefield."
Not far away, they heard the sound of the front door being opened and closed.
"Ah, that will be Mamoru." Usagi got to her feet, the meeting apparently over.
Haruka, it seemed, had other ideas. "Princess." She grabbed Usagi around the waist and kissed her lightly on the lips.
"Forgive me. Next time, I won't fail to protect you. I promise."
Usagi wasn't even there! Michiru screamed silently, more than a little disgusted by Haruka's childish need to demonstrate her affection like this. More than a little annoyed at her own twinge of jealousy.
The moment broke as Mamoru entered. "Usagi? I brought dinner home. I—Ah, sorry, sorry. I didn't realise—I'll go wait in the kitchen." Face flaming, he looked from Haruka's confrontational stance to Usagi's flushed cheeks, his eyes on the hand that still lingered around Usagi's waist.
He tossed a kind of helpless look in Michiru's direction before he left, sort of like a visual shrug.
Michiru followed his example. She bowed and departed, leaving Haruka and Usagi alone together. If something was going on, it was none of her business. The late afternoon sun blinded her for a few moments as she left the house. Breathing in the thick, humid air was like being muffled by wet wool.
A few minutes later, Haruka emerged. She seemed almost surprised to see Michiru still lingering in the drive. She nodded tersely and walked over to her motorbike.
"See you round," was all she said before kicking the starter and roaring off into the heat-shimmered distance.
How like Haruka. She hadn't even said a proper thank you.
Author's notes: Okay, whew, that was a lot of work. I have to stop writing these actions scenes! They're way too difficult! Things look bleak for our heroines, don't they? Hopefully the next update isn't too far away...
