Chapter 10

Awkward, to say the least. The sound of a humming engine. The light patter of the falling rain. Her own shaking breath. Her jaw stung, eyes watering a little every time she opened her mouth to speak. It had already started to bruise. Like her shoulders. Like the rest of her. Just one big bruise on the apple called civilization. That's what she was. What good was she? What use? None. Michiru looked down at her folded hands, the rustling of clothes and the sound of the door shutting making her look up briefly.

It had been nice. She had been kind enough to open the door for her. Her throat was dry, her shoulders shaking. They were just two peas in a pod. Water droplets clung lightly to Haruka's blonde locks, adding a bit of glimmer to them. Her shoulders were soaked. She looked cold. But she didn't shake. Michiru made to bite the inside of her lip, but was treated with a sudden shock. Jaw grinding. Searing. Tempted to shout out a curse, she bit her tongue. She couldn't. It would all go away, soon. It was just a little tender. Sore. The young woman nodded her head inwardly. Charles looked back in his mirror, one of his old, wizened eyebrows raised. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he nodded his head.

Taking a deep breath, the young violinist let her shoulders relax and her eyes close. Perhaps it would be better to sit in the awkward silence. But. That smell. Her smell. That dark, musk. It was so alluring. Her heart began to pick up its pace as the seconds ticked by. Head spinning. She felt faint. She wanted to sleep. This life was so stressful. Why couldn't it just go away? Why did it have to be her? A sigh escaped her lips. A motion out of the corner of her eye made her jump. Piercing emerald eyes were looking down at her. She faked a smile. What? What had she done? Oh. A sigh. A lady isn't supposed to sigh. God. She was so imperfect. That's the beauty of it, though. Legs crossed neatly at the ankles and her hands held delicately in her lap, the dark haired beauty chanced a look at the fighter. Her lip jumped just in the slightest. Animosity. Abhorrence. Anger. What was this woman's problem? Really.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, her voice gruff. One would think that after all she had done for her, the scrapper would be a little less hostile. What was her defect? Did she really offend that much?

"You looked first, so why don't you tell me." She wasn't in a mood to be trifled with. He had tried to pull some serious garbage back there, like the spoiled brat that he was. She didn't have the patience for an unnecessarily abhorrent scrapper. Not now. She would put her in her place too, if she had to.

"I honestly wouldn't be able to tell you. It's too twisted and warped to really make any sense of." Okay, this wasn't exactly the way that Haruka wanted this to go. She was just trying to figure out how to apologize. She was just as bad as he was. An ignorant child that knew nothing. How she wished she could change that. Erase it all. And try again. Like hitting a reset button. If that could happen, life would be so much simpler. Unfortunately, such a thing doesn't exist. And nothing is as simple as it seems.

That was it.

She was done being nice.

Michiru felt her face contort, a frown pulling at the edges of her lips. Her eyes were ablaze with fury, her hands clenching into tight fists. This woman knew nothing. Absolutely nothing about her. Teeth gritting for just a split second, she held her breath and tried to count to ten. It wasn't going to work. She was going to lose her temper. Was she bi polar? One minute, she's holding the door open for her. The next she's insulting her. It was hot and cold. On and off. It was as if the woman didn't know how to make up her mind. Did she, or didn't she like her? How hard was it to decide. And even if she didn't, must she continually make those snide, jerky comments?

"What is your game, pussy cat?" The words rolled off her tongue as if they were steeped with venom. She gave the young woman an icy glare. "You think you have it so hard. You think that this world is all out to get you. You sit there and take it all with a grim face and then bite at everything that tries to come into contact with you. You are an emotional wreck. Second guessing yourself. Never always quite there. This world is moving all around you and all you can do is sit there and feel sorry for yourse--"

"I will not be--"

"YES. You will be!" She interrupted. A fire burned in those dark blue eyes, her heart hammering madly with the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins. She just wanted to know this woman's defect. What her problem was. She shook her head, her hands clenching tightly. "You have your problems. I can see that. You aren't what you paint yourself to be! But look around you! You shut everything out. It's as if you don't care about the rest of the world except that little bubble you were born from. I'm not going to pretend to know what's happened to you. I'm not going to pretend to know you or how to solve your problems. But you shouldn't instantly assume that we are all born into privilege." Her voice was growing with intensity. Charles looked to the back seat again, his eyebrows shooting up. He would have said something, however, he knew that it was pointless. Just be quiet. That's all he had to do. Drive.

"You and your pretty face will never understand, doll. What? All you have to do to be warm and safe at night is to open your legs to any rich man. Who would turn down a good piece of flesh like you?" That was odd. Michiru almost lost her fighting edge. Simply because of sheer confusion. Was that meant to be an insult or was that, in her own round about ways, a compliment? Haruka's voice was low. A growl. She was obviously angry. Embarrassed maybe. The passing street lamps would cast her face in shadow, only giving it a moment of light. But she would have sworn that she could almost see a hint of a blush. Maybe her cheeks were flushed. She was cold, after all.

"You call me a whore, a floozy. But on what grounds do you have the right to say such things. You don't know me, Haruka! You don't even know my ever-loving name!" Intense eyes locked.

"Michiru."

As dark and angry as those emerald eyes were, they had a soft edge around them. The young violinist blinked. Her heart stopped. How had. When had. Okay, so she had been wrong about that one. She was only human. She was often times wrong. But. What? She wanted to hear it again. Maybe it had been Charles. Maybe he had said her name and not the fighter. She gave the woman a look. Shocked, perhaps. Timid. Embarrassed. She felt like such an idiot now. She was almost on the verge of apologizing.

"But what does a name matter, anyways. You're just another hunk of flesh to them. A toy. Useless. You're wasting your time." Haruka crossed her arms over her chest, her head turning to look out the window. The rain hit the pane lightly, her reflection being warped and turned. A scowl was set heavily upon her lips. Michiru had had enough.

"A hunk of flesh that still feels, Haruka." She turned her head at the sound of her name. Michiru was hurt by her words. She didn't want to be that. "A hunk of flesh that still bleeds," she motioned to her bruised face, a small streak of blood drying on her flesh. He had capped her a good one. "A hunk of flesh that still bruises," heart hammering, she tore off her small jacket, the dark bruises on her shoulders glinting dangerously in the night. In the shape of his hands. Those strong, powerful hands. "A hunk of flesh that still cries, and laughs! That has her ups and downs! I'm not just an item of desire! I'm not an object!" Her voice was shaking. She couldn't tell if she was angry or sad. Perhaps a better word for her situation would be upset. Yeah. She was upset. It encompassed all of those crazy emotions.

Something washed over the fighters face when her eyes finally drifted down to look at her arms. Something indescribable. Hidden. She swallowed. Was she going to apologize? No. That wouldn't be in her nature. She was a crass young woman. Looking out for number one. And number one only. Michiru knew that was far from the truth. But she had a reputation to uphold. She wasn't likely to break it just because of some bruises.

"I hate to break it to you, but to everyone in this world, you are." She seemed uncertain with that retort. Like she didn't really want to say it, but she couldn't help herself. Perhaps she had a touch of anti social personality disorder? That would explain her psychotic phases when she was down in the pit. Great. A serial killer. "You don't give us any other reason to think otherwise. So that's your fault. You paint yourself as a whore. I just call them like I see them." Why lie? Lying only leads you into trouble. And that's the truth. Holding her breath. Michiru stared at her. She wanted to cry. Wanted to let it all lose and to just punch the woman right in the face. But she couldn't. That would be wrong. Unladylike. Suddenly, she felt something against her palm. Smooth flesh. A sharp sting. Something echoed in her ears. Haruka's face was turned away. Michiru let her hand fall back into her lap, looking shocked. Had she just. Slowly, the young scrapper turned back around to look at the smaller woman. Shock. Hatred. Anger.

Baffled at her own audacity, Michiru brought her hand to her mouth. "F-forgive me. I don't know what came over me. It was a reflex. My deepest apologies." Why was she apologizing? That young woman had certainly done her wrong. She didn't deserve this. Maybe you're just as ignorant as she is. Don't speak unless you have all the facts. Don't accuse unless you have your evidence. There can't ever be an 'almost certain.' It always has to be 'positively certain.' Why was she getting so worked up? Well, you did almost get a bullet between your eyes. That was enough reason for someone to stress, right?

She didn't say a word, Haruka. Just sat there, passively, her eyes locked with those sapphire ones. She wasn't going to budge. But she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of saying anything. Let the young violinist rot in her own inner turmoil and guilt. She didn't want her thanks a few days before, what would make her so certain that she would want her apologies now? She didn't want anything from this young woman. She just wanted her money. She felt smug in her own resolve. It was going to make her mad again. And, honestly, Haruka liked it. It was almost amusing. But, Michiru, she was scary. She did have a very strong temper.

The violinists eyes darkened. She didn't want anything that she had to offer. Not even a helping hand. Was she really that unsightly? That ugly on the inside? Rotten to the core. Must run in the family. Michiru bit back a frustrated sigh, the car slowly rolling to a stop. The blonde reached for the door handle, the latch unfastening. "Fine, do what you want. I hope the Slaughts eat you alive." She didn't mean it. But she needed to say it. Looking out her window, she saw the shack. There was no light. There was no real sturdy door. It was just three sides built up against a brick building. The ground was mud, puddles pooling on the roof, the ripples of the rain drops making music. It leaked. She was sure it smelled. And it was cold. Her stomach twisted. She looked at the young woman, an apology ready on her lips, only to find the car door slamming in her face.

This was what she was protecting?

Michiru felt her muscles tighten as the young woman walked towards the door. She made a small, rude gesture back towards the car, Michiru feeling even worse. Should have kept your mouth shut. You know, you get yourself into a lot of trouble. Yeah. Lot's of trouble. It seemed to just follow her.

"Where to, Miss Kaioh?" Charles looked back at her, his hands placed delicately on the steering wheel.

"To Von Toff's local warehouse. There are matters that need attending to."

Matters indeed.

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Blood boiling.

She knew exactly how to get right under the skin. Okay, so maybe she wasn't just a hunk of flesh. She was a manipulator and a psycho as well. Haruka shook her head, her fingers running through her hair in a frustrated attempt to take her mind off of the blue haired vixen. All she had to do was walk into a room and every man there would do her bidding. She didn't even have to try. It shouldn't be that easy. Ever. So long as she gave them what they wanted, Michiru could live a life of luxury. Didn't even have to get her hands dirty. What did she know? Nothing, apparently. Not according to Haruka. Though…she did have quite the temper. A splash of personality. That girl. She was living the life that everyone else wanted her to live. She was never herself. Ever. Maybe that's what bugged the blonde the most.

Whatever. It didn't even matter, not now. The crumble of the cars tires had already left her ears. All that was left was the sound of the rain, the squish of the mud. The chill of the wind. A cough. Moving forward, she stepped through the threshold, a small, barely glinting fire meeting her gaze when she moved in. As the meager barrier was removed from the door frame, the fire flickered and threatened to die. She wouldn't let that happen. It had probably taken a good part of an hour to get it started. Quickly, she closed the…barrier.

Looking to the right, she saw the mass of blankets. They were bunched up. A bit of grey hairs stuck out from beneath them. That's the first thing she would fix with this money. Living. Good bye shack. Hello comfortable new home. She was sure she looked worse than death. Blood spattered her clothes. Muscle and meat clung to her knuckles. Her face was pale and ghastly. Her shoulders shook. And hell. She felt as though she was going to throw up, right there. But she had to put that all aside. She had to give them hope. Had to. They were dying. And this. Her hand closed around the wad of money in her pocket. Was their life line, now.

"Oh, Haruka. Sweetie, come sit. Give your dear mom a hug." The voice was weak. Fragile. Broken. Sick. Raspy. Nodding her head in silent obedience, the young woman knelt down by the bundle of blankets. She wrapped her arms around the form, taking in the sweet scent. The comfort of a mother. Even if dirty and unbathed, it was still a sweet thing to behold. Her eyes were grey, glassy. Dark. As if she was always looking off into the distance. Seeing something else. Her lips were cracked, her face worn. But, beautiful, yet. In her prime, when she had been healthy, this woman was gorgeous. A sight to behold. And, even now, Haruka thought she was. She gave her a dazzling smile.

"I come home to find you in such good spirits. So tell me, who were you flirting with today?" The reality of the situation wasn't going to control her life. She had to be happy, for them. They were nothing, and now she was everything. She had the key to everything.

"You can tell? He was such a handsome young fella, not as handsome or cunning as you, sweetie, but--" A cough broke her sentence. Haruka's eyebrows knit up as she propped the other woman's head up. It was easier for her to breathe this way. Yeah. This would definitely be the first thing she changed. Tomorrow, if she could. If not, then this week for sure. Someone always had to be with her, though.

"I don't think I like this act of yours, son. Are you trying to steal my wife right from under my nose?" She shrugged her shoulders, not even caring to look over her shoulder. He was always sitting there. When he wasn't trying to get a job for the day, he would sit in the same spot and watch over his wife. Haruka wasn't even vaguely surprised. Gently, she placed her cool palm upon her mothers damp forehead. She was warm. That didn't shock her either. But it certainly was concerning.

"Well, you better keep a better watch on this one, then, old man. She's quite the catch and quite the looker. If I were you, I'd never let her out of my sight!" She looked over her shoulder, flashing him a grin. It was always fun. To pretend like everything was okay. Like they didn't care. Like nothing mattered. Haruka grazed her lips against her mothers crinkled forehead. They trembled. And she didn't miss a beat.

"Haruka, my eye sight may not be what it used to be, but…is that blood on your chin?" She sounded concerned. The joke was no more. The atmosphere shattered. She didn't know what to say. She shouldn't lie. Lying only brought on more trouble, and she really. Really. Didn't need anymore trouble. She pulled back and touched her lip.

"This? Oh. No. It's just--"

A gasp cut her off, then a weak hand encircled her wrist and pulled her hand towards the other woman's face. She was in for it now.

"What happened to your knuckles? You need to get this treated before it g--" A coughing fit broke off whatever she was going to say. Thank God. And may that subject be dropped forever. Nodding her head, she put her mothers head back down, gently and began to move away. Her father loomed over her. Out of all three of them, he looked the healthiest, at the moment. At least he wasn't all beat up.

"What happened to you?" His rough fingers grabbed her chin and moved her head this way and that. She shook her head, pulling it from his grasp. Standing, she loomed over him. If only he was hunched. He had always been tall and powerful, but ever since then, he had always slouched and was slightly bent. Still strong, though. He advanced towards her, a suspicious look in his eye.

"There was just a small incident at that job. Remember? That job I was telling you about? The one that I got so that way we can eat? And mom can get better? You know. That job." She shrugged her shoulders as if it didn't matter. Her hand closed in around that wad of cash again. Should she tell them about it? Should she show it to them? For some reason, she didn't think that would be a very good idea. Tension sparked.

"It looks as though you ran right into a train, Haruka! What are you doing there? Being a human punching bag?" You could say that.

"No! Just, some of the equipment we move isn't very secure. Sometimes, it swings down and just pops you right in the face! Besides that, the landing can be a little rickety and, you know me, I twisted my ankle and scrapped my knuckles up trying to catch myself!" Lies lies lies. You aren't a clumsy twit. He knows that! She was worried that he would see through it.

"I thought I taught you better than that, Haruka," he said, his voice sapped of all emotion. He was defeated. He felt defeated. Heavy. She saw his shoulders slump. He needed to learn how to trust her. Even if she was lying, it was because she didn't want him to get involved in any of that junk. He taught her plenty. Taught her real well. He taught her to protect the family. That family is everything. And that's what she was doing. It couldn't be his job anymore. He wasn't able.

An indignant look crossed her face as she watched him. "You taught me plenty well, old man. Just trust me. All of this is going to disappear! Everything is fine. Don't worry about me. Look. I've got something good going here, so don't get all disappointed and trying to guilt me into quitting. You should know me better than that!" She flashed him that boyish grin as she straightened herself up. "This Tenoh never quits. And that's the truth."

Their eyes locked. She was trapped in a battle. If she looked away, that would be the end of it. He would never trust her. She had to stand her ground. He had to know that he could rely upon her. "What happens when the cops come in and tell me that you died in a work related accident? What then, Haruka? That's quitting on this family too, to die like that." The cops won't come in and tell you that. I just won't come home one night. And I won't ever return. That's what will happen.

Her stomach twisted at the thought.

"That won't happen, old man! Stop being senile. I'll just be a little more careful, that's all. Heaven forbid you have to provide for mom. The poor lady might go crazy if it's just the two of you, and you know I love her too much to let that happen," she lightly replied. Keep the conversation light. Happy. Don't be moody. It never reflected well. Something dragged down her spine. Her face was white, she was shaking. She was going to lose it. What if she didn't return one night. What then? They wouldn't be able to make it. Not there. Not alone. Not without her.

Funny. You and I. We were in a similar position.

She jumped. Slime seemingly snaked down her spin, bile rising hot in her throat. She knew what that was. Whispering into her ear. And you killed me. And him. And three others, to boot. How do you do it? Fingers pressed lightly into her back, all of the color leaving her face. The room spun around her, her head growing light. Shivers shook her body. She had to get out. Food. Maybe she needed food. She was sure that her mom needed it. Keep the blood sugar up, but not too high. That would be unhealthy. Yeah. She was just hungry. That's it. Something hot seared in the palm of her hand. Metal against flesh. But there was nothing there.

"—ruka?"

Her world was upside down. This wasn't good. A tongue brushed against the back of her neck, her hair bristling a little. She was frozen with the fear. Haunting her. A weight was on her shoulders. She was panicking. Was she even breathing? Haruka couldn't tell. Fingernails pulled down her back, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. Her eye throbbed. Her knuckles screamed. But her voice remained silent. She continued to stare at the man that she called 'father.' However, she didn't see him.

"Haruka? Are you mental? Come on, kid!" His hands were on her shoulders, shaking her, trying to pull her from the daze. Her lip trembled. It was all crashing down. She had no reason to keep it together, not like on the landing. She was in a safe environment. One that she was comfortable in. And everything was coming down all at once. Those men. They had families too. They were just trying to provide. Just like her. They were like her. They didn't do it because they loved it. Right? They didn't? Or did they? Some of them sure seemed to be okay with it. Just like Holds. He wouldn't return, ever again. There would be no word to his family. Disappeared. Vanished. Taken. Off into the night. How heart breaking.

"Ken, what's wrong with her? Ken! Wake her up!" The voice shattered everything. She jumped. Looking towards the worried expression her mother wore, Haruka took a deep breath. Her face, she could feel, was hot and sticky with sweat. She had to get out. Her father looked at her, his eyes intense with concern. His hands were on her shoulders and he was trying to shake her from whatever had taken over. Well…what had taken over? Haruka couldn't say for sure. Blinking a few times, she moved back and gave him a smile.

"Haruka, what ha--"

"Nothing, I'm just hungry! I'm sure you're hungry too. I'll be back, don't decide to move within the next hour. I'll be back okay?" She was already out the door. Her voice was fast. Her heart was beating madly. There was no room for them to say anything. And she ran. The soles of her tattered shoes squelched in the mud. Water soaked the bottom of her trousers. The rain pelted her face. And for a while, it was calming. Relaxing. It was helping her clear her head. She turned to the right. Down a side alley. The squalid conditions would have made any normal human wretch. But the smell didn't invade her system. The sights, they were all a blur. All she could feel were the hot tears streaking down her cheeks. All she could see was a crimson tint. And all she could hear was her own conscience, yelling at her. Her back hit bricks. And she let herself slide down the alley wall. She sat in the mud, her shoulders shaking.

Haruka was not one to cry. Haruka was not one to feel bad or regret for what she had done. But. This Haruka was a changed one. And she knew it was wrong. With every fiber of her being. But how do you stop a run away train?

You can't. You just go with it.

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13-27

VT Fuel & Oil: Where the Proud Serve

What an arrogant title. Then again, they were all arrogant, in their own ways. They were of no exception. No exception at all. He was one of the worst, really. Michiru shook her head as she looked at the dark building. This wasn't going to be pretty. Hopefully, someone knew that she was coming. She really hated barging in unannounced and demanding silly things. Not that she was a demanding person, but sometimes, the situation called for it. Her palm still stung. She looked down at it for a brief second before a voice pulled her out of her slowly delving thoughts.

"Miss Kaioh," Charles stated simply as he opened the door for her. Oh right. She scooted slowly out of the car, her jacket held lightly in her hands. She would put it on once she was out. It was always too awkward to try in the car itself. Goosebumps pricked her skin when the rain hit, sucking all the heat and warmth that she might have had stored in her body. Quickly, she shoved her arms into the jacket and began to walk towards the small man door. The heels of her shoes made a light tap tap upon the concrete walk way, accompanied nicely by the pitter of the quickly progressing down pour.

Laughter drifted to her ears. So. There were people there. Good. This wasn't a complete waste of her time. Her fingers curled around the slick brass handle as she twisted and pushed it open. They all stopped dead. A group of about four men sat around a cardboard box. Poker chips on the table. Cards face down. Each giving her a death glare.

"Hey, Tony. Does this dumb bitch look familia to ya?" He was short, small. Like a little rodent. His voice was squeaky and irritating and as far as Michiru was concerned, he was road kill. She gave him a look that stated 'Strictly business.'

"Hm. Yeah, I tink she does. Whassit. Just cin't place it." He was bigger, bald. Not like it really mattered. She wouldn't have to remember their names or faces after this night. She always hated coming here. They knew very well who she was. They just liked to give her a hard time. Sometimes. They four men stood, each eyeing her suspiciously. What could she want with them? They hadn't heard anything about her arrival.

"Ya tink she got bidness wit us?" One asked.

"Nah, boss didn't say anyting 'bout Legs here."

"She don't have papers."

Enough of the games. Sighing inwardly, Michiru gave each of them a smile and advanced. "Oh really?" She asked. She certainly did. Pulling them out from under her coat, she flashed the documents towards the men. "Now, if you gentlemen are done, I've come for some of your stock. Von Toff has already signed off on it, and I only need a few, so if you'd please pick your trousers up off the ground and go load them, I'll gladly be on my way."

They each looked at each other, a hesitant, silent conversation. They weren't used to this sort of behavior from "Legs." She really meant business. But one of them didn't get it. Adjusting his belt, he placed a hand upon his pistol (standard security procedure) and gave her a look.

"Why dontcha stay a while, Legs. Play some cards?" It wasn't meant as an offer. He was demanding it. Her jaw twitched. But she didn't let her smile fall.

"I'm afraid I cannot. Not tonight, boys. Just load it up and I'll be on my way." She really tried to sound jovial. Apologetic. But all she could feel was grease on the inside. She felt grimy. Dirty. Disgusting. The man who made the initial request stepped forward and placed an arm around her shoulders, leading the young violinist towards the makeshift table.

"I insist." She felt his nose graze against her neck. That's it. Okay. So. She had been through quite a bit today. And now this? No way. She was not going to do this, not today. She wasn't going to play these silly, little games. Michiru was on edge. Her muscles were shaking. Her stomach was lurching. And her head was going a million miles a minute. Before she knew it, she had grabbed that mans wrist, twisted it into a chicken wing, kicked his knee and had him on the ground, his own pistol in her hands and held right to his temple.

"No, I don't think you understand. I really must be on my way. So. Load. Up." Her voice was dark. Angry. Confused. Had she really just done that? Sometimes, when you were dealing with these sorts of people, this was the only way. She had to remind herself of that, all the time. The other three just nodded. They got it.

Taking a deep breath, she got off of the man. Slowly, she backed away. God. She hated the people he made deals with. They really didn't understand anything other than a barrel to the head. Leaning back against the side of the warehouse, Michiru waited, her slender body poised. Once again. The soft spoken young woman. Musician. Politely smiling at them as they worked.

Two worlds. Two people. That's how it had to be.

Time is money.

Indeed, it certainly is.

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AN: Bow chicka wow wooow. Okay. So. Michiru is a little on edge in this chapter. But I sort of like it. Sort of fun to have her beat some one. Haha. She'll be a little calmer next chapter, don't you worry. Just, if you look at the circumstances, I think a lot of people would be like that. It's perfectly reasonable. She got shot at and nearly killed and had a verbal fight with an infuriatingly handsome blonde. ._. Well. There's chapter ten. Hooray! I didn't think it was that bad. Sorry for it being late. At least it's a little longer than the others. I didn't even put everything I wanted to in it. But I decided that this was good enough. Besides, you got to see some more of the fam! And…sort of a glimpse as to a part of Michiru's life. Sort of. Not quite. Soooo. Heart. STOP! REPLY TIME:

Swinging Cloud - I hate you too! Heart!

CoOkiE86 - Well. That's a complicated question. You'll have to see why. It has to do with Michiru's background and the relationship she has with the company as well. She can have her bursts of power, like then and in this chapter, but for the most part, Michiru sort of lets things fall into place. If she fights back, then, you know, bad things happen. You'll just have to wait and see.

T. - I was so sad when I didn't get a review from you for chapter 8! But that's okay. Anyways. Why does Haruka hate Michiru? Well, that will also be explained, but it's not really a huge pivotal plot device. How should I put it. Haruka thinks that Michiru is fake, I suppose. It's sort of hard to explain. But like. Haruka feels that she takes things for granted. Haruka is quick to assume in this fic. She makes up stories about people, remember? She's wrong, a lot of the time, but sometimes, she isn't. It's just hard for me to word. It'll be brought up in a future chapter. No worries. Heart!

Petiyaka- Hahaha. A bit of fun. That just made me think smut. Lawl. Smut.

Sam - Aw. Thanks! I didn't want this to be a fluffy fic. Another one of my readers actually asked me why I started to write this fic and I said that all of the fluff and crack H&M fics were driving me nuts. I wanted something real. Like. In reality, it's going to take a while for two people to really become attracted to one another, you know what I mean? So. My aim was for this fic TO NOT be fluffy. But. Don't worry. The relationship is coming. Yes…yes. It is.

Okay. So. I've definitely lost some readers since I bumped this up to 'M.' It's a sad day. Oh well. So long as I have my loyal and faithful ones. I heart you guys. And everyone who reads this fic that just waits in the shadows.

Well. If you have any questions or comments, drop me a review! I always appreciate feedback. I like to know what you all think.

Until next week!

PS: Sorry for any typos. I don't have the time or the energy to go back and proofread. Ever.