Still don't own it, guys.
This super-short (relatively speaking) chapter is dedicated to Swinging Cloud, who pointed out in his/her last review that maybe my chapters are getting shorter. I don't know, Microsoft Word put this one at about 1200 words. It'll be way more after I type out all of the review responses.
True to her word, Elsa says nothing about Michiru's identity as Sailor Neptune. As Michiru walks into school the next day, she half-expects the paparazzi to show up and ask her how and when she became a magical girl, but thankfully the only other people in the hallway are students. She places her bag in her locker, taking only the Chemistry textbook she needs for first period. She walks to her classroom silently, and as she enters she hears someone say, "...racing against Tenoh Haruka, did you hear?"
Michiru's ears involuntarily perk up, though she knows she has no time for gossip or schoolgirl crushes. She sits down at her desk, listening to the other girl say, "Grey-san? Wow, do you think she can beat Haruka? Haruka is one of the best, after all."
The first girl laughs. "I think Grey-san has a chance. You know how hard she trains. And Haruka's just a walking hive of drama—remember when she revealed she's female? You know how drama queens are—they're only dramatic because they're bitter that they can't be the best."
"Oh my God, I totally remember that. There was such a media blitz. No one could believe it." A pause. "I wish she was male though—she was damn hot when I thought she was a guy. I would so hit..."
Michiru stops listening, disgusted with their interpretation of Haruka, but takes away an interesting piece of information—Elsa Grey is going to race against Tenoh Haruka.
"Elsa," she says to her friend as she sits down in English, "when is your next track meet? I heard you're racing against Tenoh Haruka..."
The pink-haired girl looks over at her and chuckles. "I'm not surprised you heard that—the whole school is gossiping about it. It's this Saturday. Want to come?"
"I... yes." Michiru nods. "And—Elsa—I know I've asked a lot of you this week, but could you please introduce us?"
"Sure." The runner picks up her pencil, twirling it about her fingers. "Just tell me one thing in return."
"What is it?" The violinist's eyes involuntarily narrow, wondering what the incoming question could be. She hopes that it doesn't have to do with senshi business, but she sags in relief as Elsa quietly says, "How do you write a lowercase Q in English again?"
The rest of the week passes excruciatingly slowly. There is a daimon on Wednesday, along with two on Friday, but they are nothing she can't handle. She dispatches them quickly and swiftly, almost too easily, but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind quietly whispers that these daimons are merely cannon fodder. Something else is coming.
She awakens on Saturday with the buzz of her alarm, and it is only after she automatically dresses in her school uniform that she remembers it is the weekend. She doesn't bother to change out of it, though; it would only take too much time.
At 7:30 a.m., she grabs her sketchbook and takes the subway to Nishimachi, the school where the track meet is being held. As she arrives, she spots Elsa standing by the entrance to the track, obviously waiting for her. As Elsa sights her, the runner's face brightens and she waves. "I'm glad you could make it," she says with a grin. "Ready to watch me destroy Haruka-san? This is why I've been training so much lately."
She leads Michiru to the bleachers, chattering all the while. Michiru listens politely until, from the corner of her eye, she catches sight of a blonde-something.
Her blue eyes widen as she sees Haruka, the fangirl crush from months prior resurfacing suddenly. The racer is wearing naught but a loose shirt, short shorts, and a number pinned to her front.
And Michiru is mesmerized.
She stares for several seconds before Elsa waves her hand in front of the violinist. "Earth to Michiru," she says. "Earth to..."
Michiru snaps out of it and stares half-jokingly at the runner. "All right, all right, whatever," she says, lips curling into an amused smile. "Go get prepared to run. Drink some water, or whatever it is you guys do."
"I think you just want me out of the way so you can stare some more. Am I right?"
Her cheeks tinged a faint pink, the violinist scowls at Elsa. "No," she snaps. "You need to get prepared. I'm just concerned for your well-being, that's all."
"Sure," Elsa says, glancing significantly at the racer. "You have fun, now."
With that, she descends to the track, taking her place at the starting line and stretching carefully. Michiru quietly observes as she tries to strike up a conversation with Haruka, who obviously doesn't want to speak.
Soon enough, the runners are all gathered at the start line. Michiru watches as Haruka's eyes go wide just before they are to start, and the racer kneads the bridge of her nose for a second.
"Get ready!" the referee shouts. "Set!"
The runners all crouch, and Elsa makes a quiet comment to Haruka that the violinist is unable to hear.
"Go!"
It is not two seconds in that Michiru realizes that Elsa has no chance of beating the racer.
Haruka moves quickly, with a strange, gliding grace that Michiru has never seen before. She cuts through the air as easily as a knife through butter, and it is only ten seconds later when she crosses the finish line.
After the meet, when Haruka is putting her jacket on, Elsa walks up to the runner. "I've heard of your reputation. You're really great; I haven't had a challenge like that in a long time," she says, smiling sincerely. Haruka looks at her quietly and finally says, "Thank you."
"Oh, and speaking of which, I have a friend I want to introduce you to." Elsa looks over her shoulders and calls, "Over here, Michiru."
Holding her sketchbook tightly, the violinist follows her friend's voice, quickly finding her in the throng of people. As she steps forward to greet Haruka, she locks eyes with the racer and finds herself at a loss for words; she doesn't even hear what Elsa is saying, she is so lost in Haruka's eyes. And it is then that she realizes—
Haruka is Sailor Uranus.
They stare at each other for several moments until Michiru smiles and says quietly, "You didn't break a sweat. Were you holding back?"
Haruka blinks and smirks indifferently, saying, "Whatever do you mean?"
The violinist's gaze softens as she searches for the right words. "You can hear the wind rustling, can't you?" she says before she wonders if the sentence even makes sense.
But Haruka's eyes widen, her eyes becoming cold as she puts up her apathetic front. "You're weird," she comments, turning to pick up her bag, and the words pierce Michiru's heart. "What do you want from me, anyway?"
Stunned at the rejection, Michiru blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind. "I want to paint you," she says. Haruka looks back at her with a strange expression before she looks away and says quietly, "I'll pass. I don't like that sort of thing."
And she leaves without another word.
Michiru stands there and stares silently at the spot Haruka had just stood on. "Hey, Michiru, she was a jerk anyway," Elsa says, trying to console her.
Michiru does not say anything. She stands and stares.
Eventually, Elsa realizes that it is probably best to leave the violinist alone, and so she leaves too to gather the rest of her belongings.
A few minutes later, Michiru shakes her head and sighs in disappointment. She spins on her heel and hurries off without even saying goodbye to Elsa.
That night, she dreams.
KinoAG: Thank you for the criticism. The earlier chapters, thanks to my inexperience with writing dramatic heavy fiction, are prone to sometimes following the Rule of Funny-if it's funny, include it. (I wrote a lot of humorous stories before this one, most of which are not on , so don't look for them :D) I apologize if this broke the atmosphere for you-Chapter Ten will be suitably drama-heavy, I promise.
James Birdsong: I completely forgot that English class in Japan is probably not anything like English class in the United States-mainly because English is usually not their first language in the Land of the Rising Sun. Whoops.
ReaderMarz: Are you implying something about the quality of my writing? *mock glare*
FaintFiction: I'm too young to remember Windows 3.1; I actually had to do a bit of research on it for the last chapter because I didn't have any personal experience with it. And thank you!
imjce: I should write a story about Mechanic Gendo... and if you really want a cameo that badly, what do you want your character name to be?