Chapter Twelve
Adara, June 5, 2002
When Michiru opened her eyes, it was raining rose petals. Down and down they poured, falling upon her face, her hair, the bed in which she was lying. They were already ankle deep on the floor. Bemused, Michiru blinked and watched the scarlet petals, breathing in the familiar scent that awoke so many beautiful and painful memories. Why now? Why were the roses weeping for her and Haruka, finally, after all this time?
She felt so weak it was difficult to move, much less think. What had happened? The fight with Metalia…The Sword…Uranus. Had Haruka rescued her? Was that why she was still alive? But she'd lost so much blood – how could she have survived that?
With some effort, Michiru managed to turn her head, to better assess her surroundings. She was in a snug, quiet room; the stormy sky outside the narrow window telling her she was most likely still in the temple on Adara. There was enough light that it must be daytime, but it was impossible to say what the hour might be.
These details, however, were only noted in the most cursory fashion. What arrested the majority of Michiru's attention was the fact that there was a second bed in the room, placed a short distance from her own. It was occupied by a bandaged and apparently sleeping Haruka.
Michiru watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, moved her eyes over Haruka's body like a vagrant visually devouring a feast. It hadn't been a dream, then, that Uranus had come for her, risked life and limb to save her. That had been real, just as Michiru's own battered but functional body lying in this bed was real. She hadn't died alone in an apocalypse of flame with the bitter taste of blood on her lips.
And…Metalia was dead.
Michiru hardly dared to voice the thought, even to herself, for fear of finding it somehow not to be true. The foe they'd been fighting for so long, the one who had cost all of them so much, could never hurt them again.
Elation soared like an eagle through Michiru's exhausted mind, stirring the falling rose petals into a whirlwind of joy. She couldn't quite believe this had happened, that she and Haruka were both here together, apparently safe, with their enemy vanquished and nothing more difficult to contemplate than recovery. But, heart skittering as she remembered the soft whisper of Uranus's voice against her ear, Michiru at least knew she was glad to be alive, which was more than she'd had the last time she'd woken up like this.
Her eyes flicked to the door as it opened to admit a generously proportioned and somewhat elderly woman. The woman acknowledged Michiru but didn't speak to her – it seemed she was here for the sole purpose of dealing with the ever-multiplying rose petals. She began trying to sweep them up into piles, apparently intending to carry them away in the cloth sacks she'd brought with her. The rose petals, however, had other ideas. They fell and sprawled and flew in every direction, the chaos only becoming worse as the woman wielded her broom more forcefully. There was an expression of such exasperation on her face that Michiru couldn't help but giggle.
"Michiru? Are you awake?"
Michiru's laughter hitched in her throat. Haruka's voice wavered like a scratched record, but for all that there was no mistaking its tone. She spoke Michiru's name as if bestowing a caress; soft and low with the intimacy of kisses in the dark at 3 am. Not even during the night they'd spent together had Michiru's sensitive ear caught such tenderness. Not for three years had she heard her name spoken in that way.
Still lying on her back, Michiru turned her head until Haruka came into her line of vision again. Haruka was shifting onto her side with a grunt of discomfort, facing herself towards Michiru's bed. The change in position revealed a lick of reddened skin that made its way up her throat and the uppermost side of her face. The arm that lay on top of the covers was bandaged from wrist to shoulder.
How many demons did you fight to save me, Michiru asked with her eyes, but the incredulous arch of Haruka's pale brows dismissed the question as irrelevant. Clear blue skies reigned in her eyes at last, not a hint of storms left. She flicked her gaze to the woman still struggling valiantly with her broom against the invading petals, looked back at Michiru with secret laughter lurking beneath half-lowered lids.
Throwing up her hands in defeat, the woman huffed in annoyance and stalked out of the room, taking broom and sacks with her. Victorious, the rose petals fell in delirious ecstasy, knowing the two trembling hearts hidden beneath rose-covered duvets reached for each other once more.
"Guess this means everything is okay again, huh?" Haruka drawled.
Michiru let out another giggle. "I guess it is."
In their respective beds, each lay just soaking in the sight of the other. Neither had the energy to rise. The beds weren't close enough that they could touch. But it didn't matter. Michiru could have lived for a week on the warmth in Haruka's eyes. What had happened in the white silence of the infirmary last time was no more than a nightmare's shadow fading in the sunlight.
"You were amazing," Haruka whispered, flexing her fingers as if stroking flesh that lay beyond her reach.
"Thank you…For trusting me."
"Of course I – I wasn't going to let you die like that. I couldn't. Not at the point of my Sword. How could I have lived on after that?"
Michiru placed her hand flat against her ribs and breathed; a deep inhale and exhale. For the first time in three years, it didn't hurt. She drew her fingers lightly over her chest, probing through the fine cotton fabric of her pyjamas. There was nothing but smooth skin. No scar, no gaping wound artificially closed by inadequate means. How could she have been awake and not noticed her burden was gone? Had she grown so used to its presence that she no longer recognised herself without it?
"Haruka…How?" Probably, Michiru's eyes were shining with unshed tears as she looked to her erstwhile lover for explanation. Certainly her vision blurred in the sudden bloom of emotion that spread through her newly healed chest, coloured in the brightness of delight and wonder and relief – relief at finally being free.
"It doesn't matter. Just as long as it's gone."
Daring to breathe another blissfully easy sigh, Michiru blinked and saw her own eyelashes bead with the jewelled evidence of her overflowing heart.
"Don't cry," said Haruka, slight husk suggesting an echo of Michiru's tears. "Please. Not when I'm all the way over here."
"I c-can't help it. I'm happy."
Haruka's next words were filled with a yearning that made Michiru shiver. "I wish I could touch you right now but…It's difficult to move."
"You will later…won't you?" Michiru's timbre emerged as wistful as minor notes plucked from the strings of her Stradivarius.
"I will," Haruka confirmed, features softened into a smile. "As long as you touch me too."
Michiru answered in the affirmative amidst a low ripple of shared laughter. Outside, rain rolled in from the ocean, bringing with it the scent of salt and freedom. Haruka's eyes glimmered like cool blue stars in the lowering gloom. As Michiru drifted off to sleep, the rose petals were still falling.
"That morning, when you and Haruka stopped answering us, we knew what was happening. We knew you'd gone off to fight Metalia." Hotaru paused in her narrative to sweep both Haruka and Michiru with a glare of disapproval. "We wanted to go after you, but the Princess wouldn't let us. She said it was a battle that Uranus and Neptune had to fight on their own.
Haruka and Michiru exchanged a private glance, both a little surprised at Usagi's insight.
"Yeah," said Haruka wryly, "she was right about that."
Hotaru shifted position on Michiru's bed, eyes thoughtful at Haruka's tone. The rose petals had finally been cleared from Haruka and Michiru's room, and after partaking of their tasteless convalescents' dinners, they'd been permitted a short visit from their fellow Outer Soldiers. As soon as she entered, Hotaru had immediately congratulated them on bringing down Metalia, and then thoroughly berated them for their recklessness at nearly getting killed. She'd next quickly moved on to asking indiscreet questions that made Setsuna chide her gently, and finally taken it upon herself to bring Haruka and Michiru up to speed on recent events.
"After that," she went on, "we got a call from Maya, saying that Metalia was dead, and that you two were injured. So all of us came to Adara. When Metalia fell, most of her demons went mad and extinguished themselves. A lot of the planet's inhabitants rose up and turned on what was left, knowing we were here if they needed back up. Things are still unstable, but better than they were. Mostly it seems people are glad to be free.
"Venus and Mars have already headed back to Earth to keep an eye on things in our solar system. The rest of us have been rotating on duty shifts, and hanging around here in between." Reaching the end of her story, Hotaru sighed. "It's been kind of exciting, but I hope we can go home soon." She regarded Haruka and Michiru meaningfully. "ALL of us."
"Hotaru," Setsuna said warningly.
"Oh come on," Hotaru gestured towards her two injured parents. "It's obvious something has changed between them. They're all…dewy eyed and stuff. Haruka has burns to sixty percent of her body because she had to fight through legions and legions of demons, and Michiru killed Metalia using the Space Sword imbued with the power of her own blood, and they wouldn't have been able to do that if they hadn't worked out their damn issues!"
"We." Haruka plucked at her bedspread and coughed. "Haven't really discussed anything yet, firefly."
"It's fine," Setsuna interjected quickly, cutting off an annoyed Hotaru. "No one expects you to do anything right now except concentrate on recovery. I'm just glad you're both all right." Her mouth quirked in a half-anxious pucker that clearly said for a time she'd feared they wouldn't be.
Michiru briefly took her hand.
A short time later, the healers came to chase Hotaru and Setsuna away. Haruka and Michiru were ordered back to sleep, and the sounds of the temple slowly fell away as night deepened. Haruka's breathing became quiet and even as she slipped from consciousness. Michiru's thoughts kept her awake.
At last, with an irritated sigh, she threw back her bedcovers and sat up. The healers had warned Michiru against rising, but she decided to ignore their advice. On slightly treacherous legs she managed to totter the few steps to Haruka's bed, and lightly brushed her left shoulder (the uninjured one) to wake her.
"Michiru?" came the immediate, if fuzzy, response.
"Please Haruka, can I sleep with you?"
There was a silken rustle as Haruka raised the covers, inviting Michiru to join her. Slipping gratefully into this bed, so much more attractive than her own empty one, Michiru settled near to Haruka but stopped short of touching her.
"Are you okay?" Haruka whispered.
"I'm okay. I was just lonely."
"Come here." Reaching out, Haruka took Michiru's hand and circled her palm with a gentle thumb. "Better?"
"Isn't this hurting you?" Michiru worried. "Your burns…"
"You're not hurting me. This is just my hand."
A slow exploration; intimate and intense. No more than the touching of hands, yet in Haruka's careful consideration there was a deliberate endeavour to re-learn every crease and quirk of her partner's extremities. She ran her fingers over the well-known calluses on Michiru's corresponding opposites, courtesy of years of pressing down on the strings of her violin; paused to curiously trace a new scar at the base of her thumb.
"What's this?"
"Nothing. Just an accident that happened in Vienna."
"An accident?"
"A car accident. I…wasn't paying attention. I wasn't hurt badly, but my thumb was partially severed."
Haruka's hand tightened in hers. "Holy fuck! I've never heard about this?"
"Had to be kept secret. If anyone got the idea I couldn't play anymore, my career could have been jeopardised."
"How bad was it?" asked Haruka, a dry desert wind of fear in her tone.
"Pretty bad. Luckily my senshi healing took care of it, even though I wasn't active. If not for that…" Michiru shrugged, voice bleak. "I might never have played again."
"Michiru—" Haruka got no further before grief overtook her; all the hurt and anger she'd harboured since the night on the Hill at last purged in an outpouring of bitter and guilt-ridden tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so stupid. For hurting you so much. I blamed everything on you, made you pay for it, yet all along I was the danger." The harshness of self-loathing crept into her final assessment. "I should be sending myself into exile as punishment."
Twining their fingers more tightly together, Michiru shook her head. "Haven't you learned anything, Haruka? That did absolutely no good last time. Besides, I'm not prepared to go without you for another three years. I want—" A sudden lump prevented Michiru from speaking further, but she didn't need to. I want you to be my partnerloverfriend; the only one who can be.
"I know," Haruka murmured, eyes flashing in the dark. "I want it too." Her hand trembled, then steadied. "Maybe when we get back to Earth, you could come and stay with me for a while."
"Leave Hotaru and Setsuna…?"
"Not forever. But to begin with, don't you think we'll need some space and time for ourselves?"
"It would have certain advantages," Michiru agreed, trying not to think of Haruka's bed, and what had happened there.
She felt Haruka's lips lightly brush her forehead. "I promise I won't freak out next time," she said, obviously guessing the trend of Michiru's thoughts.
Only just in time did Michiru remember the burns on Haruka's throat. She'd been about to nestle her head into the available space beneath the blonde's chin, and had to force herself to remain still instead. "I pushed you into it," she admitted wryly. "You weren't ready."
"I am now." In the dark, Haruka kissed Michiru; a searing promise of desire. "I want it to happen again," she admitted.
"Right now? Haruka, we're hardly in a state to manage it!"
Haruka laughed softly. "Not right now. You know what I mean."
Michiru smiled to herself and kissed the back of Haruka's hand. "I do," she said.
Tokyo, October 12, 2002
The taxi pulled up at the Outer Residence on a fresh October evening to disgorge two tanned women and a clutter of luggage. Hotaru, hair flying and eyes sparkling, was immediately upon them, chattering excitedly and tugging suitcases into the house, much to the bemusement of the taxi driver, who shrugged and drove away.
It had been a chaotic few months. Most of the soldiers had stayed on at Adara until the end of June, when Haruka and Michiru were finally well enough to make the journey back to Tokyo. Initially, the reunited couple had moved into Haruka's apartment as they'd discussed, but Haruka's burns were only partially healed and still bothering her, especially in the summer heat. Setsuna had wanted Haruka to spend some time in the infirmary beneath the Outer Residence, but Haruka had adamantly refused that. Considering the bad memories both of them shared of it, Michiru didn't blame her.
Instead, the two women had gotten out of Tokyo and spent about six weeks in a remote hot springs resort, followed by a month in Greece. Everyone understood the holiday had probably been for the best. After what Haruka and Michiru had been through, they both needed time to heal, on more than one level.
But when they'd decided they were ready to start thinking of home, the pair found themselves drawn quite naturally to the Outer Residence and not Haruka's apartment at all. Hotaru and Setsuna had been more than happy with the proposal they move back in, and so here they were, fresh off the plane from Greece.
Receiving news of their impending arrival, Hotaru had prepared a coming home feast in their honour, and had been on the phone to Setsuna all day, threatening to disown her if she worked late tonight, of all nights.
Luckily for Setsuna, she arrived home about fifteen minutes after Haruka and Michiru did.
Hotaru kept them all entertained at dinner with funny school escapades and her various thoughts about what to study at university next year. Setsuna revealed casually she'd been awarded a prestigious new science research fellowship. Haruka and Michiru handed round presents and holiday stories and assured their fellow Outers they were rested and fully healed and ready to return to active duty as soon as more monsters should appear.
With a groan, Hotaru begged them not to even talk about monsters, and in a more serious tone Setsuna agreed with her.
They adjourned to the living room afterwards, but within about an hour it was clear that Haruka and Michiru were tired from their journey and just about ready for bed. The announcement was met with studied indifference from Setsuna and a beam from Hotaru that wasn't quite concealed. She tried to excuse it by saying she was just happy they were all back together again for the first time in three years, but part of Haruka had a nightmarish vision of opening their bedroom door at 2 am and finding Hotaru crouched listening on the other side.
Then she dismissed the idea as ridiculous, since surely she and Michiru and Setsuna had raised Hotaru to know better than that.
Mounting the stairs behind Michiru was a little surreal. Haruka hadn't been into their old room since the day three years before when she'd moved out. She'd sworn to herself then that she'd never go back, that she'd never place herself in a position to be hurt like that again. Most of all, she'd told herself over and over again that she and Michiru were finished, and that she didn't need anyone else to make her complete.
For once, Haruka was glad she'd been wrong.
Their suitcases were already waiting for them in a corner of the room, harbingers of hopeful change. Haruka swept her eyes around the familiar surroundings but found them curiously bare without the clutter of personal belongings. She wasn't even sure where a lot of the objects were that had once graced this room – she imagined they were somewhere in her apartment, stuffed into a box too full of pain to be opened.
But perhaps it was finally time.
Michiru was already busy unpacking her suitcase and putting things away in drawers. Her movements were jerky and overly fussy; a clear sign she was nervous. Enveloping her in hug from behind, Haruka nudged her lips close to Michiru's ear.
"I'm glad we're home," she said, letting Michiru hear how much she meant it.
Her lover's hair was shoulder length once more, the curling tips tickling her chin. It had given Haruka a pang of regret when Michiru announced her intention to cut her hair short again, but without needing to be told she knew Michiru disliked the compliments her long hair tended to attract, since she couldn't help but associate them with the woman she'd been in Vienna.
"It never." Michiru paused, tense in Haruka's arms. "It never felt right being here without you. I didn't like it."
Haruka caught sight of the bed, reflected in the vanity's mirror. Their bed. In that time apart, they'd both lain with other people in other beds, but never here. This was theirs alone.
"We should make this room ours again," she ventured. "Fill up the bookcase. Get out the trophies. I'll buy you a whole new make-up collection if you want it."
Regret tinging her voice, Michiru pointed out, "We can't go back, Haruka. This room does need to become ours again, but as we are now, not as we were. And that is the part that scares me a little, because I don't think we've even begun to figure ourselves out yet."
"But we've already done everything there is to do." Haruka smoothed her hand down Michiru's thigh in a sensual touch that spoke of warm Mediterranean nights, and felt her lover shiver.
"I know. I'm not talking about that. Everything until now has been happening in neutral territory I guess. Kind of like…a holiday, or a dream. But this is where we broke. This is where the mending is really going to have to start."
With a gentle tug on Michiru's locks, Haruka acceded, "Yes, you're right. Come and have a bath with me."
"Haruka! Haven't you been listening?"
Haruka paused in the act of picking up one of the fresh towels that had thoughtfully been placed on the end of the bed. "We can mend in the bath as well as anywhere, can't we? I'm too tall for those aeroplane seats. I need to soak the kinks out of my back, and I'd prefer to have company."
The tension went out of Michiru's shoulders, and she gifted Haruka with a half smile. "All right," she agreed.
In the midst of candles and fragrant steam, Haruka floated in the hot perfumed bath water and sighed contentedly. She stretched her spine, rolled her shoulders, wriggled her toes. Flying was definitely not her favourite method of transport. Not in planes, anyway.
She felt Michiru's fingers smooth themselves down the length of her arms. "Better?" she asked.
"Yes, much."
Michiru settled her hands around Haruka's waist, pulling her closer until Haruka could feel Michiru's breasts pressing into her back. In all the time they'd been apart, Haruka hadn't allowed anyone else to hold her or touch her like this. She'd never wanted any hands but these on her body, giving her comfort, giving her love. She only hoped that in the time ahead she could prove herself worthy of the forgiveness Michiru had so freely given.
"So," said Michiru softly, chin propped on Haruka's shoulder. "That was our first serious disagreement as a couple."
Covering one of Michiru's hands with her own, Haruka added, "We nearly destroyed each other."
"We nearly destroyed the world."
Haruka's breath gusted out in a shuddery sigh of horror. "I know."
"The thing is, we'll disagree about something else one day."
"Of course we will. It's unrealistic to expect otherwise. But next time…we'll bend instead of breaking. No matter what it is. Nothing is more important than this." Haruka held up their interlaced hands, slick with water and bath oil. "Without this, all the rest falls apart. It's like the foundation…or something."
Michiru gave a low, melodic laugh. "And you were doing so well there with the poetics," she teased.
"I think that twelve hour flight killed my brain."
"You're tired aren't you?"
"Yeah, I am. Sorry."
"It's not something to apologise for."
Haruka waved her free hand vaguely. "Well, you know. I thought you'd want to re-christen the bed and all that."
There was a thoughtful pause. "Will you hold me tonight?" Michiru asked.
"Of course. I hold you every night."
"Then it's fine."
After letting out the cooling bath water, the two of them made the short trip back to their bedroom, muffled in towels and fluffy robes. They could hear the TV blaring downstairs, and the odd murmur as Hotaru and Setsuna carried on some kind of conversation that seemed to mostly consist of arguing about who the cutest contestant was on some game show.
It couldn't be a more ordinary evening.
It couldn't be more wonderful.
The bedspread, perhaps, was new. At any rate, it wasn't one Haruka recognised from past years. White, with some botanically uncertain red flowers splashed across the lower half. When she turned the bed down, she found the same flowers decorating the pillows. Haruka wondered if Michiru had chosen it. It didn't seem like the sort of thing she would like, but then, maybe her tastes had changed.
The sheets were white as well. They were finely woven, cool and soft against Haruka's skin as she surrendered herself to the familiar and long denied comfort of her bed, but she felt the phenomenon of white, sanitised sheets was something she had encountered too much of these last few months.
Then she remembered most of the sheets at her apartment were also white, and grimaced. There was going to have to be a serious homewares shopping trip somewhere in the near future.
With her head cradled in the opposing pillow, Michiru regarded Haruka curiously. "You don't look happy."
"I was thinking we should go on a shopping trip. I'm tired of white sheets. Too much like hospitals."
"We could go wall-to-wall pink."
"Not even."
"Not even if I really wanted it?"
With a flick of her wrist, Haruka turned off the lamp beside her, plunging them into darkness. "Imagine the pink now," she advised. "That's as close as you're getting."
"Cruel," Michiru accused. "And you're not even making good on your promise."
"You're all the way over on the other side of the bed. You need to come closer."
There was a rustle of bedding as Michiru turned onto her other side. "Come over to my side. I'm comfortable here."
Grumbling for the sake of appearances, Haruka abandoned her half of the bed to join Michiru, fitting herself to her lover's curves so that they rested like two spoons together. Her fingers quested beneath Michiru's pyjama top to stroke her bare stomach; a habit she'd picked up that was part reassurance and part guilt. Even if she already knew that Michiru had forgiven her for what she'd done, it was going to take longer for Haruka to forgive herself.
She started slightly as something soft and fragrant landed of her temple. Then she huffed sleepily into the tumble of aqua-marine hair before her.
"Michiru…"
"I know. The rose petals are falling again."
A week later, Haruka and Michiru resumed their training with fully functional Talismans. Technically, they still weren't back on active duty, but that distinction hardly mattered since there'd been not a single attack on Earth since Metalia's fall.
Probably, Haruka teased her lover, word of Michiru's victory had spread throughout the galaxy and any monsters still lurking were too afraid to face the destroyer of demons, which was what the populace of Adara had taken to calling her. They were in a movie theatre at the time, and Michiru threw a piece of popcorn at Haruka to show her just what she thought of that theory.
As of old, the Inner senshi took to giggling like school girls whenever Haruka and Michiru were around, and with a soft glow of happiness in her eyes Usagi accepted quite naturally the decline of Haruka's flirting. Mamoru said nothing but was probably relieved.
Eventually, however, on a squally November morning, the winds warned Haruka of disturbance, and Michiru's Mirror began to pulse urgently. The two soldiers exchanged a glance.
"Hana Niwa Shopping Mall," they said together, and went.
"…Er," said Haruka, when they reached their destination.
"Is that—?"
"Yes. Yes it is."
"That monster," Michiru intoned, looking at the giant, squishy body of the thing before them, currently terrorising the thin trickle of morning shoppers, "Is made out of pudding."
They both ducked hastily as the monster caught sight of them, roared and threw what looked like a steaming Christmas pudding over their heads, complete with golden custard.
Haruka grinned at Michiru wolfishly, eyes lit with delight at the challenge before them; the timeless, shimmering beauty of Uranus superimposed over the face she knew and loved so well.
"Ready, Neptune?"
"I'm ready."
"Let's go."
With roses weeping, the two soldiers plunged into battle, Talismans drawn, and finished the fight side by side.
A/N: finally finished! At some point, there might be an epilogue added as well, but I'm pretty busy at the moment, so it could be a while before I get round to it. Thanks everyone for sticking with this - I know it's been a ridiculously long time. But one of the most enjoyable stories I've ever written.