Disclaimer: I do not own Haruka and Michiru's characters, they belong to Naoko Takeuchi. All other characters and this story belong to me. This story is fictional. Any references to real life companies, places and events are weaved into a web of fiction and do not have any connection with reality.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
AN: Okay, so remember a month and a half ago or so when I started this fic I conducted a poll and asked you guys questions and all that other stuff? Well, the time has come. I'm officially going on hiatus, which means if I disappear for a year… kidding. I'm not that bad. I prepared in advance and I will keep posting updates once a week, but no more than that. So please don't be upset by my not doing mid-week updates, having to wait for a week and so on. Most of you are writers yourself, so don't complain. You know how this goes. So let's just agree that it will be once a week 'till mid-August, then I'll revert back to my normal writing chapter after chapter through the night and posting the next day self.
As always, thanks so much for all of your reviews.
petiyaka: right on with both of Michiru's reactions, I mean, wouldn't you feel that way? (I know you personally would never be in this situation, but… wouldn't you?) Oh this reminds me there was a show and I think it may have even been in France where people men were competing to fight this 'bachelorette,' who in the end appeared to me a transgender person. So far as I remember from Soup (those of you in the states will know what I'm talking about) the reaction was quite funny. Anyhow, back to my story… the wait is over. They shall meet again.
Newt Salamander: thanks (takes cookies, falls back into her chair and stuffs herself with them. Well, now I have to go work this off. Great. Thank god it's all in my imagination :) ) No hints. Their statements are the hints, I don't have any hints because that would mean that I have to know where this is going. And I don't :) wa ha ha ha ha (I mean I generally know). If you liked last chapter, you'll like next one too :)
SeraEris: Thanks! And you're pretty darn close to my intent! Cuddos.
Jay: Sorry, more cliffhangers to follow. I just can't live without them :)
Mantaray: Your wish is my command. (take your mind out of the gutter, not in that way). Let's just say that Feisu was in a naughty predisposition when she wrote last chapter and the next few. Compensating for the absence of action up to now :P
Tenoh and Kaioh: Can you even imagine them not being together? I mean I can totally write it in, but that's not what most of you want, is it?
lostinhersong: Not too much drama. I'm kind of tired of making this whole gender issue into too much drama. I'll put other kinds of drama in here, I promise.
KaE: Michiru took too much upon herself to decide and she paid for it emotionally, that's all. It's always easier to walk away and not deal with something that isn't working out, but it takes two to even get to that point. So she's not the only one to blame.
Fusionmix: Here's my take on it: when you're not looking for something, like trying to figure out if you're kissing a boy or a girl, you might miss obvious things. Then, it all depends on the experience, i.e. How many people you've actually "groped." There will be more description of Haruka in the next Chapter, but she is pretty ripped. No pumping iron though. I have a number of rock climbing friends who never go to the gym (other than the rock climbing one) and trust me, their shoulders, backs, upper arms and abs are in an amazing condition. You can't really tell the difference between male and female shoulders if the two people are of the same size either. Seen it. But then again, even if this wasn't the case, it's fiction… so just believe me :)
As far as abs go, well it depends on how you gain muscle. Some women get feminine waists that are slimmer, shapier and so on. Others get a bit chubby or bulky when they get muscle (look at Pink's abs. She's constantly characterized as having 'man abs' and she's a gymnast).
What I meant by "very feminine" was having breasts, ass, hips, and a waist. All of which are possible to be concealed. There's no magic there. I like realism in my stories and you'll see that she didn't just snap her fingers and became a man later on. Wow, that was me rambling :P
qwerty: Thanks! I needed that boost to my confidence when I was in the middle of a very boring lecture!
Arufa: I'm going to give Michiru what she seems to lack a lot, in my own fics included - the determination to do what she feels is right just like Haruka would. Because that's something they share. I feel.
imjce: I know it will take you a while to get to this note, but I love your reviews as you go! Thanks!
CoOkiE86: That's just unorthodox… kidding. I know how you feel. I have 0 spare time and it SUCKS! Funny how we're all different, I mean in respect to what we feel about the characters. Thanks for sharing!
Rumiteka: You got it.
Wow… I have never left an AN this long… sorry. I think it's my overall insanity kicking in. Here, please, don't listen to me anymore…
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Chapter 13
"A Band on Hiatus"
"The Fallen"
"A Pattern as Typical as Paradigm Itself"
It has been two and a half weeks since Mark Hoffman's hospitalization, yet the controversy seemed to increase as opposed to dying down. Even at the small newspaper stand inside a terminal at JFK Michiru counted three first-page stories featuring Paradigm. The titles were supplemented by the pictures of Paradigm members wearing leather or ripped clothes. Those were promotional photos for one of the videos and it irked Michiru how they were used to spin a whole new image of the band. Her eyes fell on another cover, this time of a sports magazine, from which a certain racer smiled at Michiru. She shook her head and walked back to the gate.
What Michiru hated the most about traveling was having layovers. They were an unnecessary waste of time during which she could not occupy herself in any way. They were just long enough to get bored, but short enough to do something productive. She pulled out her phone and looked at the schedule carefully prepared by Anne. Michiru's month in California was a little break from her packed schedule and now she was going to pay for the indulgence. Her personal e-mail was as empty as always, and Michiru tapped the glass wondering what else she could occupy herself with for another forty-five minutes before takeoff.
Someone took a seat next to her, only black slacks and a large styrofoam cup of coffee was in Michiru's view. From the corner of her eye she noticed the hand holding the cup and her eyes lingered on the wedding band that sat snuggly on the right hand. She slipped the phone back in her bag and straightened her back, leaning into the chair.
"How is Mark?"
"He's in rehab."
"How are you?"
"I'm going into rehab."
Michiru finally turned her head to Alan. "What do you mean?"
"Going to visit the parents for a couple of weeks." He sipped on his coffee. "Are you okay? You look… tired."
Michiru smiled wistfully; only someone who knew her so well could tell that something was wrong. Otherwise she looked like she always did: impeccably dressed, with her hair styled and her makeup done. "I've had a few daunting days."
"Work?"
"If you can believe it, not."
Alan took off the sunglasses he wore underneath his black ball cap and looked closely at her. "No, I don't. Unless what you said earlier about seeing someone is true." Michiru looked away and Alan nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. Although, I feel like it should make me feel better."
"Does it?"
"No." He extended her the cup of coffee and Michiru took a sip. "I'm considering getting another vocalist."
"What about Mark?"
Alan sighed. "He's been in and out of this shitty state for years, but I've never seen him this bad. On a personal level, I hope that this was the last straw and he gets his act together, on a professional level, he's stalling the whole band."
"He should've done opera, he has such a great voice."
"Maybe it's not too late."
Michiru shook her head sadly. "With his reputation, with his background, you think anyone would take him seriously?"
"You'd be surprised what you can do if you have the right connections. Amanda actually offered to help with that. She said that if he ever decides to change the venue, he should give her a call."
Michiru chuckled. "Funny how paths cross. I think she's dating a celebrity agent or manager of sorts."
"How do you know that?"
"I ran into her in LA."
"She didn't mention that."
Michiru shrugged. "She was probably too pissed that I stuck by Max." She knew that Alan did not know what she was talking about, and so she just shook her head, dismissing her own statement.
Alan took the cup back from her, noting how bare her right hand that rested in her lap was. Ever since they got married they wore their rings on right hands, to make sure that people did not ask unwanted questions. "When did you take off your rings?"
Michiru too looked at her hand, spreading her fingers. "The day I sent you the divorce papers, which, by the way, I am yet to get back."
"I'll send them when I know there's no chance at all."
"Alan, I -"
"Can we not talk about this now? At least because we're in public."
Michiru closed her mouth for a while, until she was able to freely talk on another subject. "Do you have anyone in mind for the vocals?"
"No, but I'm thinking a girl. I want to change it up a bit, introduce her gradually. Maybe have Mark and her sing together for a while, then have her take over and him do the bass, until he phases out. If he chooses to."
"Simon won't let you do that."
Alan shrugged. "I think I'm in the position to just say 'screw you' to Simon and go to another label if he doesn't agree with my decisions."
"You should get your own agent."
"I've been thinking about that too. Anyone you'd recommend?"
"I'll ask Anne."
"How is she doing?"
"Just as always, you know Anne. Perfectly organized, unfazed by anything and on top of everything."
"So where are you heading?"
"Here and there in Europe, then Japan for a couple of months."
"Are you going to visit your family?"
"Of course."
"Do they know?"
"No."
Alan cocked an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"I wanted to tell them to their faces."
"Is it that or is it because you're not sure -"
"Now you're starting it."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you flying through Heathrow?" Alan nodded, finishing his coffee. "I'll sit with you if you promise not to bring us up."
He looked at her in surprise. "I didn't realize we were on the same flight."
"Did you think I was just hanging out by your gate waiting for you to come over and chat?"
"Aye, something like that." He smiled genuinely at her, finally getting some part of the woman he knew and loved out. "You've got yourself a deal."
x x x
Anne Dunn stayed behind in California to finish some business. She was having an early lunch at an almost empty restaurant when a blonde man dressed in a suit that seemed at odds with his surfer look approached her. "Anne."
"Joel."
He took a seat, ignoring her pointed look at his absent request for permission. "How have you been?"
"Grand and yourself?"
"You know, new day, same shit." He gestured to the waiter. "Can I get a whiskey on the rocks?"
"What's up?" The absentminded behavior of her fellow agent and his choice of 'lunch' drink made her get to the point.
"How well do you know your client?"
"Michiru?"
"Do you have any others right now?"
Anne set her fork down. "I know her quite well, why do you ask?"
"I need to know if she's the kind of person that can keep something to herself."
"Has she learned something she's not supposed to know?" Joe nodded and Anne continued. "When?"
"Three days ago."
"Is it in the tabloids?"
"No."
"Then there you have it."
"How do I know she's not fishing for the highest bid?"
Anne wiped her mouth with the napkin, completely losing the interest in her lunch. She waited for the waiter to walk away before she continued. "How much is the intel worth?"
"Millions." He eyed her wearily. "Why are you smiling?"
"Judging by the fact that you waited this long, it's something very touchy. Judging by the fact that you came to me, an extra careful step, it's about someone you value greatly. Perhaps more than on a professional level? A friend?" She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Did Michiru figure out that your racer is a woman?"
Joe spit out the whiskey he was drinking.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"How the fuck do you know?" He whispered.
"Please, I do due diligence. I know who my clients are, who they meet, who they befriend and who they sleep with. Obviously that last one didn't happen between those two, or we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Yes, but -"
"Public records, Joel. It's one thing to create a story or an image for someone, it's another to go as far as forging documents. The Tenohs had two daughters. One deceased, one alive. They have never had a son, as simple as that. I'm surprised others haven't found out, but I guess that's because they didn't have a reason to look."
"You are a scary woman."
Anne chuckled. "I'll take that as a complement. Don't worry, Michiru can keep secrets very well… and please don't leave here searching for her background information, I'll give it to you freely on the same assumption that you will not divulge it to anyone, including your client, just like I haven't told mine something I knew a week before she did."
"What's her skeleton?"
"She's been married to Alan Carey for five years."
Joe almost choked again. "How come the media knows none of it?"
"They never disclosed it. She wanted to be seen separate from the band, they got married before Paradigm hit their fame, no one ever questioned their relationship other as a professional one."
"I cannot believe this." What he really could not believe was that Amanda did not tell him about it. The thought brought back Haruka's question of how well he knew the woman he wanted to marry. "I think I'm going to settle in."
Anne cocked an eyebrow. "Smooth transition. Who's the girl?"
"Amanda Johnson."
"The actress?" Anne watched Joe nod. "She's a decade younger than you are. I know you can hardly tell just by looking at you, but… she is."
"Must you remind me of my age every time we meet?"
"If I don't, who will?" She pulled some bills out of her wallet and put them on the table. "My advice to you, keep your work separate from your home and it won't matter if she's ten years younger than you are."
"What if my work lives with me most of the time?"
"Get her a girlfriend."
x x x
Ever since she met Anne, there were no oversized obstacles in Michiru's way. If she wanted to play with orchestras, Anne arranged it, if she wanted to play solo, Anne set up a tour. Her career as a classical violinist was at its high. Michiru made herself a name that went hand in hand with very good reputation of hard work and natural skill. She craved challenges because then there was something to overcome. She agreed to the most difficult pieces, even if rehearsals took twenty-four hours of her day. She worked herself into oblivion, performed, and then crashed for a few days. After she had her rest, she generally entered another cycle.
As she made her way through Europe in the first weeks of February, Michiru was not inspired by her performances with the well-known orchestras. For the first time, she treated her music as a job, performed meticulously from its technical standpoint, but without soul. She decided to change things up. Michiru needed a new way of expression, something she could accomplish and put behind herself, along with all the feelings that plagued her being. Michiru was ready to do her second album. She had a large number of original compositions that she compiled over the years and they were all reflective of her state at the time. There was music from when she fell in love, when she was her happiest in her new marriage, when she felt that she was being left in the shadow and tried to break free, when she was depressed like never before because of the hard decisions she had to make, when her music became her only point of living, and then there was now. She needed to close the chapter on her years with Paradigm, she was no longer part of that family and it was time to let go.
Michiru contacted Anne and arranged for a studio for the remaining weeks before she was scheduled to perform in Japan. She had a few engagements in Rome, and so Anne booked her a hotel and a small studio in the city, where Michiru could do her work on the album and practice with the orchestra. It did not take long to record some of the old tracks, but the newest ones were very different. Michiru decided to finish the chapter with Alan the same way it began - with an electric violin. She composed a couple of songs, but getting them to sound the way she wanted to was a challenge. It was a combination of their novelty and the variations allowed for by the amplifier. Michiru spent a whole week practicing those two tracks, trying to get them were she wanted them to be, but it was fruitless.
She was sitting in a small piazza, having a late lunch when she realized what her problem was. She thought that her expression was that of pain of separation, of difficulty of moving on. That was not the problem. The problem was, she was all alone. Paradigm literally was her family. Her friends were associated with it, she lost both when she left Alan. Sure Max was still her friend, sure Amanda offered to try again, but their relationships were full of history with the band. She could not even tell Max about Haruka when she needed someone to talk to so desperately. As she sat at a small table of an oped air café in a crowded piazza, Michiru realized that she was the only one sitting alone. In the past it never bothered her because she had an anchor, she had somewhere to come back to, someone to come back to. This was no longer the case. This was it, her and her music. The notion chilled her.
Michiru picked up her phone and dialed a number in her favorites. "Can we talk?"
x x x
Though Haruka's home was in New York, the only house she herself owned was in Monza, Italy. Just like it was the case back home, the house sat in close proximity to the racing track, only here she could literally hear the cars go by from her backyard. It was a soothing sound. Her villa was quite modest by American standards, having only two floors and four bedrooms altogether, but Haruka never had more than four or five people visiting her. Joe stayed over often when she was in Italy on business, her parents came to visit occasionally, and once Amanda accompanied Joe.
Haruka looked across the living room she was sitting in and through the open french doors out to the patio. It has been almost a month since Michiru walked in on her playing tennis, and yet the front pages of magazines did not announce so to the world. Joe also assured Haruka that Michiru was not the kind to disclose such information and that he knew something about her she would not want to disclose either. Haruka was not a fan of blackmail, nor was she a fan of secrets, but this whole ruse has gone too far to be revealed now.
"You look like you could use some massage." A pair of soft hands landed themselves on Haruka's shoulders from behind the chair.
"Might as well use your skills while you're around, right?" Haruka got up and followed a brunette woman, whose dark chestnut hair fell just below her shoulder blades.
"That's what you always do, you use me." The woman replied in a naturally hoarse voice.
"Come on, Di, I gave you an opportunity to use me."
"No thanks." The woman pulled the door to one of the rooms on the first floor open and gestured for Haruka to hop on the massage table.
Haruka pulled off her t-shirt and lay on her stomach. She let out a satisfied sigh as knowing hands worked out the knots in her neck and back.
"Now tell me what's working these terrible things into your body."
"I may have exercised too much yesterday."
The woman snorted. "This is stress, Haruka, don't lie to your friend. What's up?"
"I met someone."
"Finally." The woman slapped Haruka on the back and the racer winced.
"It's not like that."
"It's never like that with you. Why don't you just tell her the truth and see where it goes?"
"That's the problem. She walked in on me playing tennis with Joe."
"Ouch."
Haruka moved her head deeper into the head rest. "Yeah."
"Have you tried talking to her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I was too worried about the exposure. Now I feel like it's too late."
"Better late than never." The woman worked on a particularly tight knot at the top of Haruka's spine. "Do you want me to pick you some outfits to go see her?"
"Dido, I'm not completely useless, I can pick my own clothes."
"Will you be seeing her as you or as Haruka Tenoh, the racer?"
Haruka sighed. "Neither. I'm just going to drown in my own misery and concentrate on the upcoming race."
"No, because you drowning in your own misery leads to a lot of sad music and phone calls in the middle of the night to both Joe and I."
"I try and call you during the day."
"Your day and my day aren't always the same, dear. You tend to always forget that." Dido put Haruka's t-shirt on top of her back. "Go change, let's swim."
Haruka looked in dark hazel eyes of her friend. "Yes, water sounds good."
Haruka met Dido Nicolo shortly after she met Joe some six years ago. Dido was a stylist who also possessed other skills that came particularly helpful to Haruka over the years, like the massage. Dido used to date one of Haruka's fellow racers, so the two found themselves in the same circles a lot for a while, striking a friendship. As sad as it was, Haruka's only friends were those she met through work.
x x x
It was evening by the time Michiru met Max at the airport. Since the latter had only a carry on, they quickly made their way out of the airport and got in a cab.
"So what was so important that you couldn't discuss it over the phone and made me fly over?"
"Oh please, Paris is not this far from Rome, don't overexaggerate the effort."
Max turned to face her friend. "I'm starting to regret it though. What's up your ass?"
"Can you wait until we get to the hotel?"
"Sure." Max turned away and watched the passing scenery for the remainder of their trip. Once they made their way up to the room, she dropped her backpack and sat on an empty chair next to a fireplace. "I'm listening."
Michiru bit on her lip, then walked to a small bar and opened a bottle of wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to Max. Sitting in the chair across a small coffee table, Michiru picked up her feet and gulped the wine. "How did you know you were gay?"
Max lowered the glass back down. "Do you want me to start with when I started to hate men or after that?" She shook her head. "I don't know Mich, I just was never interested in boys, then the whole… I like women, I don't like men. The act irks me."
"But does it irk you naturally or because you were raped?" Michiru got a cold stare in return and took another sip. "I'm sorry."
"I don't know. It kind of all happened around the same time. I was still a kid, Mich, that's when you're supposed to find out what it's like, not be forced to learn."
"When did you have sex with a woman for the first time?"
"Why are we having this entirely uncomfortable interrogation?"
"I promise, there is a point to it."
"Michiru, people don't turn gay overnight if that's where you're going with it. It took me a couple of years to get over what happened, I had sex of my own volition when I was seventeen."
"Did it feel normal?"
"Define normal. Your normal and my normal will never be the same, we haven't been through the same experiences."
"But it didn't feel wrong."
"No, it didn't feel wrong. Now, where are you going with all of this? Because if you made me fly all the way out here because you're in another stage of your 'experimenting,' I swear, I will walk out of here and never answer your call again."
Michiru smiled nervously. "No, I didn't call you here to screw me. I -" She set the glass down. "I met someone a couple of months ago."
"Yes, the mystery man."
"Yeah… well, we've had some very good time together, I felt like I was finally falling out of my relationship with Alan and moving on to something else."
"And?"
"And it turns out that he was a she."
Max's eyes were virtually as big as Michiru's when she saw Haruka. "Did you find out when you were… you know?"
Michiru shook her head. "No, I saw her dressed in a skirt."
"Oh. Well, then at least nothing really happened." She watched Michiru closely. "How far did you go?"
Michiru hid her face in her hands, utterly embarrassed. "Aside from making out for three weeks? She kind of had me under a pier in a storm."
Max whistled. "Whoever she is, I wanna meet her." She saw Michiru's flaming face appear from behind her palms. "I'm sorry, I mean, what a deviant!"
"What the hell do I do, Max?"
"Well, did it feel wrong?"
"Which part? Me thinking that I was making out with a guy when in reality she is a girl? Yes, that felt wrong!"
"No, I mean what you felt when you were doing it. Did you think of the person's gender when you did it or were you just following your instinct?"
"Yes, but there was no question of gender in the equation! I thought I was being kissed by a guy, why would I doubt my reaction?"
"You weren't too fazed when you kissed me."
"I did that consciously."
"Okay, so knowing that she is a woman, would you do it again?"
"I don't know." Michiru picked up the glass again. "That's why you're here."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Tell me what I should do."
"You know I can't do that."
"But you said that people don't turn gay overnight, so I can't be gay, right?"
Max shrugged. "There are many flavors of people. You can't just stick them in two categories, the spectrum isn't just black and white. I don't know. I don't think you're asking the right person, Mich. My ex just got engaged to a guy."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know she got engaged."
"Yes, she was kind enough to call me to let me know. Now if Amanda could turn straight, why can't you turn gay?"
"I don't think Amanda was ever gay. She never felt comfortable with the notion."
Max snorted. "Not in bed she didn't. Sorry, can we not talk about this?"
"Sure. But… I don't know. What if it takes me somewhere I don't want to go?"
"Then you call me, I'll fly in and kick her ass. By the way, who is she?"
"I still can't tell you that. Now with even a better reason."
Max bit the inside of her mouth. "Dammit, why do I get this feeling like it's someone I should know?"
Michiru smiled noncommittally. "Now you know how I felt about being left in the dark."
x x x
"Hi Amanda, it's Michiru. I heard you got engaged, congratulations. Listen, I know this is a bit out of turn, but I have a favor to ask. Can you give me a call back at this number?"
Michiru hang up the phone and tapped her lips with it. She knew it was still night in California, but if she was going to go through with her plan, she needed to do it that day.
x x x
The trip was reminiscent of the times past. Michiru hauled a cab outside of the airport and gave the driver an address. Michiru could almost hear Devin talk about a certain racer from the back seat. If only he knew. His affection for Haruka died down when he was in college, as he worked through his degree and then interned. Having excelled in his studies, Devin got an offer with the Department of Defense, which he could not pass, so his once dream of being on Haruka's team took a back seat to life. The Careys could not be more proud.
Michiru missed the enthusiasm the youngest brother used to exude. It may have been tiring at the time, but she wished he was with her right now. If only to make her stop doubting herself. She grabbed tighter to her bag as the cab pulled into a parking lot.
x x x
It was her job, yet it was also her favorite past time. There was no requirement to train, nor was there any particular need, yet Haruka chose to do it because that was what she loved. Haruka gunned the car along the familiar route. She has been at it for over an hour and she could feel the ache settle in her lower back. Haruka wished Dido did not have to leave that morning. It was nice to have a personal masseuse. She did another lap and came into the pit. Haruka unstrapped herself out of the contraption and took the helmet off. Her mechanic, Milosz, walked up to her.
"There's someone looking for you."
"Oh?" Haruka looked behind him but did not see anyone.
"She doesn't look like a reporter, I don't know if she's a fan or what. I left her outside."
"Okay, thanks." Haruka unzipped the top of her suit and made her way out. Generally only locals knew that she trained there, unless it was before the official race. It was rather rare for someone to go looking for Haruka in Monza, which is why she had a house there. Her curiosity turned into something much more powerful as she saw who her visitor was. She was looking at the empty track, her hair gently moving in the light breeze. Her light brown trench coat did not hide the outline of her perfect figure. Haruka slowly walked up to the violinist.
Michiru turned to see Haruka dressed in her racing suit walk up to her. Seeing her again like that, Michiru could hardly believe that Haruka was a woman. Feminine outlines in her face maybe, but nothing gave away the shapes of the woman Michiru saw at the court.
"Can we talk?" Michiru spoke.
"Not here." Unsure of what else to say, Haruka led Michiru to her car.
"Do you have one of these everywhere in the world?" Michiru half-smiled at the red Ferrari.
"I own this one, so no wet clothes." She meant it as a joke, but the memories it brought in both of them created an uncomfortable pause. Haruka has never been this thankful for the proximity of her house. She pulled in the garage and got out.
Michiru followed Haruka inside the house, taking in the modest, but tasteful decor.
"Would you like something to drink?" Haruka saw Michiru shake her head and gestured to the couch in the living room. "Would you mind if I take a quick shower?"
Michiru shook her head again and Haruka left. Michiru looked around the room and noticed two things immediately: there were pictures of a family of four on the walls, and there was a grand piano in the corner. She looked closer at the pictures, noting that they all dated back to when Haruka was a teenager. Her sister was in every one of them. Michiru remembered the conversation they had back in Los Angeles and shook off the sadness that it brought on. Looking for something to occupy herself with, she walked up to the piano. There was not a speckle of dust on it and Michiru assumed that it was not because of someone's meticulous cleaning. It was used often. She opened the keys and sat on the bench. Michiru's fingers tentatively traveled across the ivory keys, finally bringing the instrument to life with one of the piano-violin compositions she knew. Her fingers were not nearly as fast as they used to be when Michiru learned to compose at Juilliard and she missed a few notes, but otherwise it was not too bad for someone who played violin for a living. She was immersed into the music and did not hear Haruka walk in, until she smelled the fresh scent of soap directly behind her. Michiru stopped playing and gently closed the top.
"So you play piano." It was the card Haruka never had an opportunity to pull out like she promised to.
"Yes, I do."
Michiru turned to find the blonde wearing khaki cargo pants and a form-fitting black t-shirt standing behind her. Now she could see it again. The woman in front of her. Michiru got up and a jolt of realization surged through her system. She took a step closer to Haruka, who eyed her wearily, and moved the blonde strands that covered Haruka's right ear. Michiru's fingers gently touched the small earring.
"Haruka, have you ever been to Juilliard?"
Haruka stepped away and walked to the other side of the room, where she opened a bottle of wine. "Yes, I have and yes, I was obnoxiously screaming on the phone early in the morning."
"When did you figure that out?"
"Shortly after Amanda mentioned that you went to Juilliard. I figured there weren't that many people who looked like you there."
Michiru nodded slowly. "Why did you leave?"
Haruka extended her the glass and they both walked to the couch. "I wasn't meant to do it. My sister started to take piano lessons when she was six. I could care less about it, all I wanted to do was be at the racing track with my dad. My mother thought that if she could interest both of us in it, we would spend more time together and I would not be as much of a tomboy as I was. I started playing when I was seven." Haruka sipped on the dry wine. "At some point Karin couldn't practice as much as she needed to, it wore her off, but she loved the sound. So I played. Every evening I would play and she would listen. She wanted me to be a famous musician. I wanted to be a racer."
"And you couldn't pick between the two."
Haruka looked at her. "How do you know?"
"'Too many choices for a teenager.' That's what your father said, I didn't understand it until now."
"How do you even remember that?"
Michiru shrugged her shoulder. "Random things that pop into my brain."
"Karin made me promise that I would apply to Juilliard and I did. I had to either stop playing and race or stop racing and play. I couldn't do both like I wanted to. Karin died in our last year of high school, so I bummed all the qualifiers for the races. My parents convinced me that I should go to school, in Karin's memory."
"What made you change your mind?"
"My dad had a heart attack the morning after I came to Juilliard. It was a final blow. I couldn't move away from them to New York for four years. Not that I'm home too often as it is." Haruka pondered on her own words. "Karin used to say that I shouldn't race because it's dangerous and I would never let our parents lose both kids. I think I realized then that no matter how safe one is trying to be, life takes over. Sometimes it is worth risking it every once in a while to feel that you are living the rest of the time."
Haruka slowly sipped on her wine, watching the violinist who curled up in the corner of the opposite couch from underneath her lashes. Most of all she wanted to ask what Michiru was doing here, but she did not know how to. She has never been in this position before. She liked someone and that someone knew of her true gender. Moreover, that same someone went out of her way to find her. What did that mean?
"Why?"
"I'm sorry?" Haruka was caught off-guard.
Michiru, no longer dissuaded by the compassionate feelings she had towards the blonde, decided to get what she came there for. "Why do you lie about who you are?"
"Are you always this straightforward?"
"No, but if you're not going to give me an explanation, which I feel I deserve, then there isn't a point in even wasting this wine."
Haruka nodded slowly. "Is this what you came here for, then? An explanation of why I hurt your feelings?"
"Hurt my feelings?" Michiru lowered the glass in her outstretched hand. "You hurt my feelings when you called me a 'bitch' without even knowing what I was going through at the moment. This…" Michiru drew a circle around Haruka with her glass. "…this isn't hurting someone's feelings… it's changing the universe within which they operate. Changing my universe. What the hell do you expect me to do when I find out that the guy I thought I was semi-seeing, but definitely getting intimate with is not a guy at all? I mean, if I thought I was gay, I would've dated Max a long time ago, I love her personality, we could've made a great couple."
"So let me get this straight, if you were gay, you would've dated your friend. You're not gay, so you're here to find out why I hide the fact that I'm a woman? To what, satisfy your curiosity?" Haruka was not particularly known for her patience, and she was losing it.
Michiru put her glass on the tiled floor and got up. She walked to the french doors and looked outside, gathering her thoughts. Whatever she came there for, she did not come to have a shouting match with the blonde. She saw a tennis court in a small distance and a corner of her mouth curled up. Haruka's expression when she realized Michiru found her out was priceless.
"I don't know why I'm here, Haruka. I would've never jumped on a plane to go find out something out of curiosity. I just need a starting point, I guess. I've never been so confused in my life. I think I need to know simply to explain to myself how I could reasonably be in that position in a first place." She turned around and walked back to the couch, taking a seat at the opposite end of the one Haruka was sitting on. "I didn't come here to jerk you around."
x x x
It all started as a misunderstanding. A simple misunderstanding. I already signed the contract, it was either agree to the ultimatum or lose the deal I've always dreamed of. I just let my other dream pass to concentrate all of my efforts on racing. I could not lose that, I would have had nothing left. So instead, I lost myself.