Haruka opened her mouth to say something and then she closed it. She opened it again and her brows furrowed. Once more, she shut her mouth without a sound. In a similar manner, Haruka raised and lowered her chopsticks, between her mouth and ramen cup, at best half aware of the gesture.
"Wha-?" Haruka murmured weakly.
A couple stumbled past their table, tipsy and giggling. The bell to the door rang as they left the store.
Slowly, Haruka laid her wooden chopsticks atop a napkin on the small table and her lips pressed into a firm line.
With a guarded expression, Michiru's gaze flickered over Haruka, trying to read the blonde's features, which so clearly exposed the turbulent thoughts of their owner. She crossed her legs under the table, her bandaged ankle lightly brushing against Haruka's leg— making the latter immediately flicker her gaze up to Michiru.
Michiru took the bottle of Calpico to her lap. Under the table, Haruka drew her legs in, further away from her company. Michiru's expression remained as it was and she unscrewed the cap of her bottle slowly.
Haruka rested both her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together, her rings mingling together. She held her hands before her mouth as she now looked at Michiru with an expression reminiscent to the one she had worn at the art gallery.
"He was a talisman?" Haruka asked in slowly, carefully. They both knew the answer.
Michiru raised the bottle to her lips. "No," she said and took a sip.
As if a puppeteer was pulling strings hooked to Haruka's muscles, Michiru watched every square centimeter of Haruka's body stiffen in the fight to overcome the overwhelming urge to leave the table.
Someone dropped their wallet by the cashier, change spilling loudly to the floor. If a coin had rolled by the highschool girl's feet, it went unnoticed.
Michiru brought the bottle back to her lap, still holding her cap in hand. She brushed off a drop from the corner of her lips with her thumb.
"I don't understand," Haruka said tightly, her hardened gaze boring into Michiru, "Why did you then...?"
"It wasn't on purpose. I never intended to hurt him," Michiru replied simply, making a show of inspecting the bottle cap in her hand before raising the drink back to hover by her lips as she said, "Mistakes were made."
"Mistakes?" Haruka stared at her in disbelief. "Mistakes?!" Her voice had pitched louder and higher than Michiru had expected.
Michiru turned her eyes sideways as she calmly sipped her drink. She concentrated on drinking and holding her bottle gently, as to not let her hands tense and crinkle the plastic.
"A little kid lost his life and all you can say is you made a mistake?" Haruka snapped loudly, almost making Michiru wince.
Taking her time, Michiru screwed the cap on the bottle. With the slightest movement of her shoulders, she shrugged as she looked at the girl across from her.
"There's not much else to say," she told Haruka in the same tone she had discussed the ramen flavours.
Raw anger fumed in Haruka's eyes. "How can you talk about this so nonchalantly?!" She yelled, slapping her hands down to the table with a startling volume. She rose in her seat, the chair jerking back from her legs with a muted screech against the tiles.
"He fucking died at your hand and you can't even pretend to feel fucking guilty?!" Haruka growled, hovering over the table. The few patrons of the store that lingered nearby briefly glanced their way. Noting the attention, Michiru calmly requested for Haruka to lower her voice.
Haruka glared at her with a hatred Michiru had never witnessed before. Under the guise of Haruka's judgement, Michiru steeled her heart.
Placidly, Michiru turned her head slightly up to meet Haruka's hatred with a cool and collected expression. Her thumb tapped the ridge of the cap of the bottle she now held at her lap.
"Would it make you feel better if you saw my guilt?" Michiru asked. Haruka's expression faltered.
Setting her bottle down on the table, Michiru rose from her seat. They were close enough to smell each other's perfume with ease.
In a neutral tone, Michiru continued in a lower tone, "You asked me, 'Would Michiru have stopped Neptune?' and I confessed this to show you that that question was redundant: Michiru Kaioh can't do anything at all."
Haruka's stormy gaze roamed over Michiru's face. Perhaps, falling to the shorter girl's lips for a moment too long. For the first time, Michiru noticed the slightly darker blue rim that traced the perimeter of Haruka's irises.
"And you're fine with that?" Haruka hissed, her temper seemingly cooled by a degree. Some strands of Haruka's short hair fell forward, by her eyes. Michiru wanted to brush them away.
"I've accepted it," Michiru replied after a short second of contemplation.
Haruka clenched her jaw, not bothering to hide the disgust that overshadowed her features. "No, you've just given up," Haruka accused quietly.
Michiru glanced away, but could still see details of Haruka's being from the corner of her eyes. "Perhaps."
"Damn you," Haruka growled under her breath. Michiru's heart tied into a knot at the sound of her voice. She looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of the profile of Haruka's tormented expression as she walked past Michiru and left the store.
Alone, Michiru hovered at the table for two, both cups of ramen only half eaten.
—
Haruka set her textbook carefully in her lap while her notebook remained upon her desk. As always, she did a good job of pretending to take notes while really browsing the phone that stood propped against the crisp pages of her biology textbook.
It was the middle of the day and the classroom windows were wide open. The P.E. classes were making more noise than usual, Haruka couldn't hear the teacher over the laughter and screams. With a well-practiced subtle movement, Haruka's finger scrolled through the image results for Yasho Toshibo again. All the pictures were the same, just a perfect headshot of him smiling with dead eyes at the camera. Why was she looking at pictures of him?
A delicate tapping beat of the chalk upon the board caused Haruka to look up. "The History of the Piano," the biology teacher wrote on the board.
It had been a long time since Haruka had played the piano. For years, she had been dragged to lessons at the behest of her mother. But, ever since she set foot in Japan, her fingertips had yet to hit a key.
"We must welcome a new student today," the teacher announced. "Neptune Kaioh."
The noise of the outside world suddenly halted. Michiru Kaioh bowed to Haruka's class, introducing herself with her sweet low voice and gentle smile. The boys went crazy, obnoxiously so. The girls fretted, whispering about Haruka.
When the teacher told Michiru to take the empty seat by Haruka, no one seemed to find it unusual when the new girl sat atop the empty desk and rested her feet on the chair instead.
"Hello," Michiru murmured to Haruka with a casual smile. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Haruka's school uniform sat oddly on Michiru— the top was too small and tight, the skirt too loose at the waist and slipping down. She folded her legs against each other instead of crossing them.
"Hey," Haruka murmured. Her eyes fell back to her textbook. She no longer had her phone and it was her book pages that were now filled with the same image of Yasho.
"What page are we on?" Michiru hummed, peering over Haruka's desk to look down at the book in the girl's lap. When she did so, Haruka could see the deep plunge of her shirt expose the milky white skin of her décollage, the slender collarbones and plush breasts pushed up by a lacy pink bra. Her exposed neck came disturbingly close to Haruka's lips.
Haruka leaned away. She crossed her legs, the dark blue skirt of her uniform sliding up her thighs.
"Are you visiting me?" Haruka asked. The words felt heavy in her mouth. It was oddly difficult to speak.
Michiru blinked, peering up at Haruka from a sidelong gaze. "You see me, don't you?" Michiru chided softly. She reached up to pull the scrunchie from her hair. Haruka couldn't look away as the girl shook out her hair, letting the waves fall to her shoulders.
The shirt sunk, hanging loosely below both of Michiru's shoulders and exposing the pastel pink bra straps. Haruka swallowed. It took an incredible effort to raise her hand, her arm felt so terribly heavy, to grasp the shirt's fabric and try to pull it back up over Michiru's exposed skin. But, the second her fingers curled around the white cotton, the shirt crumbled away like sand.
Michiru giggled, a hand rising to politely hide her amused little grin. "This is a good dream, Haruka," she said, "Only the things that you want to happen, happen." There was a dark cast to Michiru's eyes as she set her hands on the table and leaned back on it, showcasing her figure— the plush breasts set sigh on the push-up bra, the nipped in waist that sloped into round hips. There was a tightness to her body that Haruka hadn't expected.
"Uhh…" Haruka murmured blankly, her face growing hot and her eyes not pulling away. No one in her class seemed at all bothered by the scene.
Slowly, Michiru crossed and uncrossed her legs before Haruka. The blonde caught a glimpse- the violinist wasn't wearing any underwear.
"I'm guessing you figured it out, didn't you?" Michiru whispered, turning her small foot by Haruka as she spoke, "Why I stalked you down to your track race? Why I cornered you on the ship? Why I pressed my ass against you on the train? Why I leaned in so close when we ate the ramen?"
Haruka didn't respond, so Michiru leaned in to hover her face before Haruka's. "I wanted you to fuck me."
Michiru slid down from the table and into Haruka's lap. There was no more textbook or phone. Both of her plump thighs straddled Haruka and her arms rested around Haruka's neck.
Haruka's jaw tightened and her gaze darkened as she watched this Michiru tilt her head to the side and smile. "Don't believe me? Come now. I know this isn't your first dream like this with me," she purred.
Haruka set her hands upon Michiru's knees. Slowly, her palms drifted up the soft, supple skin. Her fingers caressed it as they slid all the way up to Michiru's hips. The girl squirmed in her lap as Haruka gave her ass a rough squeeze.
Again, Haruka's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, but she made the effort to clearly articulate, "Why'd she kill the boy?"
The Michiru Kaioh in her lap pouted in an open display of disappointment at the topic change. Her arms moved so she could rest her hands on Haruka's neck and Haruka shivered. She wondered if Michiru's hands really felt this way.
"I know you want to taste me," Michiru whispered. Haruka's shirt was gone. And so was her bra. And so was her skirt and underwear. Suddenly, Haruka felt incredibly cold. One of Michiru's hands drifted down Haruka's body, brushing down her neck, her collar, her breasts, her bare torso with such a brutal sharpness that no human nails could emulate. "I can tell from how wet you are."
Haruka hissed sharply in pain as Michiru's hand slid in between her legs. She felt hot blood trickle down her thigh.
Michiru's eyes shined with delight. She was without a skirt now, too.
It was impossible for Haruka to pull her hands away from Michiru's body, but they moved freely against her skin. Her hands slid up Michiru's body, past her waist, past her breasts as she hoarsely asked, "How does... anyone… mistakenly kill...a little kid?"
Michiru leaned her face closer to Haruka. There was a disgusting smile on her lips as she said, "You don't."
Finally, Haruka's hands reached their destination, curling her long fingers around Michiru's frail neck. The only thing she knew that she was doing was squeezing, hard.
A soft, strangled gasp escaped Michiru Kaioh's lips- but it wasn't one of pain. Her skin bubbled black. Her face distorted- crooked fangs, hundreds of beady red eyes and her fingers melted into long black tendrils. Haruka's hands were swallowed by the distorted flesh.
With its wide mouth filled with endless rows of rotting teeth, the monster coyly leaned in to give Haruka a kiss- ripping the skin from her face.
—
The clock above her vanity read 3:40 a.m., but Michiru sat alert as ever in her bed. With her arms hugging her knees, Michiru watched the rain hit her window, blurring all the city lights.
Although she knew she couldn't miss school for the third day in a row, she wasn't anticipating all the needless questions about Haruka Tenoh she would be bombarded with. Michiru sunk her head, resting her chin upon her arms as she continued watching the rain. The housekeeper had had the week off, giving Michiru no reason to leave her room for the past few days.
Michiru groaned softly. With regretful ease, Michiru could already picture Elsa, Momo and Ino approaching her throughout the day, interrogating her about her "friendship" with the popular racer.
What would Michiru even tell them?
But today was Friday...surely heading to school on Friday would be doable, Michiru reasoned. Plus, it would be good practice for all the socializing she would have to do at Sora's birthday party tomorrow…
Slowly, Michiru extended her legs out and winced slightly. The dull ache at the bottom of her leg wasn't getting any better, but she refused to touch the emerald liprod that lay on her vanity, basking in the moonlight.
—
As soon as Elsa had spotted Michiru in school she demanded details. How in the world did Michiru so suddenly befriend Haruka Tenoh after such a sour introduction? Whether Elsa was just gullible, or not nearly as nosey as she seemed, she ate up Michiru's contrived excuses and half-hearted white lies without a hint of open doubt. Luckily, the moment the topic had switched to food, Elsa never hinted at the topic of Haruka again.
Momo...was different.
"Are you going to her race Monday?"
Michiru clipped her school bag closed and looked up at Momo. Half the classroom was already empty, many students running out of their last class as quickly as they could.
"No," was all Michiru said, but in a pleasant tone. Truth be told, Michiru hadn't even known there was going to be a race on Monday, but she hoped the single-word reply would put an end to the budding conversation. Momo had been barely tolerable at a distance, but now, under the delusion that she and Michiru were now on friendly terms, she was little short of utterly insufferable.
Momo nodded. "I see. It's not like you can go to all of her matches to cheer her on."
Michiru hummed and said nothing else, waiting for the girl to go away. This was their fourth one-side conversation about the racer today.
Momo rocked back and forth on her heels. "Say," Momo spoke up again, "do you think it'll be weird if I go alone?"
"Perhaps," Michiru replied a bit too quickly, picking up her school bag. Having something in her hands helped Michiru quell the inexplicable urge to yank Momo's pigtails.
Momo pouted, openly crestfallen. "Really? Why do you think that?"
With an effort, Michiru swallowed the handful of pointed replies that immediately sprang to mind. "Oh, no reason. If you're worried, I would just text her and ask, Momo."
Momo jutted her lower lip out prominently. "I would if I could. Say! Can you give me her number?"
Michiru did well to hide her surprise at Momo not having Haruka's phone number. A second later, Momo had her phone in hand and was hovering in front of Michiru, waiting. Had this conversation been about anyone else, Michiru would've quickly come up with an excuse to not give out someone's number without their permission- but now, she found herself dumbly staring at her own fingers sharing the contact information with Momo.
The girl moved to give Michiru a hug in gratitude but awkwardly hesitated at the last second and instead patted her shoulder. "Thanks! See you Monday!"
Within a couple minutes, Michiru was finally the only girl in the room. A male classmate that was lingering a little too close to her, showing an odd interest in the same posters that had been lining their classroom since the beginning of the school year, had steadily been drifting closer. Michiru wasn't in the mood to shoot down another senseless confession and quickly left.
The phone in her bag buzzed as she left the school building. Crossing the courtyard, Michiru unlocked her phone. Although it was a message from a phone number and not a saved contact, Michiru knew immediately who it was.
/Hey. did you give Momo my number?/
Michiru bit her bottom lip. How annoying-just one stupid text from Haruka flooded Michiru with all sorts of undiscernable emotions.
/Yes./
/.../
/.../
Michiru watched the floating bubbles on Haruka's end, wondering what the girl was typing and erasing, typing and erasing.
/why?/
/She wanted it./
/no shit. I just don't remember saying u can pass my number around/
Michiru's brow twitched in irritation and she convinced herself that Haruka was making a mountain out of a molehill.
/.../
/I'll personally send you a formal written request next time another mutual friend asks for your contact information./
/she's not my friend./
/Be a big girl and tell her that yourself, Tenoh./
/.../
/.../
Not even for a second did Michiru bother to consider how she looked, standing alone in the middle of her school courtyard, glaring down at her phone and furiously typing away.
/piss off./
The mature thing to do would've been to let the conversation end on that note, but Michiru couldn't bring herself to let Haruka have the last (rude) word.
/You're the one that texted me. :)/ was what Michiru sent. Quickly, she silenced her phone and pocketed it in her bag. The smile had been unnecessary, but Michiru had added it just to get under Haruka's skin.
—
"Oh, really, you don't have to trouble yourself with this, Michiru," Rin said hastily, trying to shoo Michiru away from helping her set the table, but the young girl just smiled and continued smoothing out the tablecloth. "You have a lot to juggle," she reasoned to the hostess.
The high pitched squeals of Sora and his young friends play-fighting in the living room rang through the house. There had been some miscommunication between Rin and the guests, instead of one, a couple of Sora's friends had arrived at noon. Now, at ten past one, the young mother was still rushing to finish preparing the snacks and meal before the boys became hungry.
"Please, I enjoy helping," Michiru added when she saw Rin hesitating. Rin relented with a tired, but grateful smile. "Oh, alright. Thank you, dear."
They chatted quietly, listening to the sounds of Dr. Sato roar and stomp around like a dinosaur to entertain his son and the small guests. Michiru wasn't sure, and knew it was impolite to ask, but she was certain there was a hint of a baby bump developing under Rin's loose dress.
"Are we waiting for many others?" Michiru asked as Rin pulled plates from the cupboard. Setting the plates in Michiru's arm, the woman shook her head. "No, most of his friends are here. Just one more will be dropping by." Rin's eyes shined as they looked at Michiru, "Someone you might happen to recognize."
Michiru furrowed her brows and tilted her head. "Oh?" She wondered who it could be. Naturally, Michiru's thoughts were rudely occupied by Haruka Tenoh far too often, so when her image automatically came to mind, Michiru kicked the thought away and tried to conceive a more realistic guess.
Dr. Sato stepped into the room with a vibrant grin at his lips, cheeks flushed and eyes shining. Yet, his hand was quietly rubbing his chest and he was a little more out of breath than he should've been. Neither Michiru nor Rin commented on it.
"Are you heading out to pick up the cake now?" Rin asked her husband. Michiru carefully began to set the plates upon the table as Dr. Sato nodded and answered, "I'll get back as soon as possible. The young kittens are yowling about how much they want cake already."
Rin chuckled and commented something about opening some sweet snacks just as Sora's little cousin ran in, crying and waving his finger in the air, a little bead of blood at its tip.
Being not only a doctor but also the adult who dared abandon a handful of boys for over ten seconds, Dr. Sato felt extra responsible for this little causality. He immediately walked the young boy over to the kitchen sink to wash the little wound while Rin quickly searched for the bandaids.
Sora and his friends came over, complaining about everyone being in the kitchen and fussing over a fake injury. The boys clamoured around the sink, trying to see if there was any blood. One boy eagerly demanded Dr. Sato give the finger stitches.
The doorbell rang.
"Oh, jeez. Already?" Rin exhaled in a bit of a panicked tone, failing to not sound stressed about the arrival of yet another guest.
Not envious of the commotion the two adults were attempting to juggle, Michiru finished setting down the last plate and stepped away from the table. "I'll get it," she said smoothly.
Before Rin could protest, Dr. Sato affectionately replied, "Thank you, Michiru," as he unwrapped a bandaid his wife had passed him.
Michiru sailed over the sparkling clean first floor of the small, but modern, two-level Tokyo house. As she understood it, Dr. Sato was entirely a self-made man and his home was quite impressive for someone without any generational wealth. Like most Japanese homes, the Satos had a genkan- an entryway that was a handful of centimeters lower than the main floor so that people could take off their shoes without tracking dirt into the house.
The bell rang again and over the sound of young boys yelling and parents laughing, Michiru hastily mumbled, "One second!" as she stepped down into the genkan and reached for the doorknob.
With a warm smile, Michiru welcomed the late spring breeze into the home as she opened the door.
"I'm terribly sorry for the wa...ait," Michiru's voice trailed off.
Blankly, she stared up at Haruka Tenoh.
Haruka's lips parted, mirroring Michiru's own surprised expression.
For once, they were both caught completely off guard.
A loud shriek from the living room startled both girls. Michiru quickly glanced over her shoulder, collecting the thousand of storming thoughts swirling in her mind. Carefully, she put together a nonchalant smile and stepped away from the door, motioning for Haruka to come in.
The girl remained where she was and instead scowled deeply.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Haruka demanded in a quiet hiss, her grip on the gift bag handle tightening as her whole body tensed. The doctor's boombastic laughter could be heard over the children's.
Michiru eyed Haruka wearily. "The same reason you are."
Haruka narrowed her gaze sharply at the girl, but couldn't reply as a familiar voice exclaimed, "Oh! Haruka!"
Dr. Sato appeared over Michiru's shoulder, picking up his car keys from a shelf as he walked towards the two young girls. "So glad you made it!" Dr. Sato said brightly, stepping past Michiru and placing his hand on Haruka's shoulder and having the girl step inside the home.
"Of course," Haruka replied with as warm of a smile as she could muster. As the two exchanged pleasantries, Michiru's gaze flickered over the duo and then she turned away. Without a word, Michiru picked up a pair of the adult slippers Rin had prepared for her guests and bent down to set them not at the edge of the main floor, just above the genkan.
Just before Michiru rose from her squat, she looked up and caught Haruka watching her with an unreadable expression. They maintained eye contact as Michiru rose, until Haruka had to turn away and reply to something Dr. Sato had asked her.
The doctor spotted Michiru's sweet gesture of setting out the house slippers to Haruka and then straightened. "Oh!" he exclaimed softly, turning to Michiru with a sparkle in his eyes, "I can't remember, are you two acquainted? You did bet for—"
Haruka eyed Michiru quizzically.
"We are," Michiru interjected hurriedly, a heat rushing to her cheeks that she hoped didn't bring any color. She didn't look at Haruka. "Lightly acquainted," she clarified.
Dr. Sato smiled merrily. "Well, what good fortune! Being the only two girls here, and the only teenagers, for which I apologize- I'm sure you two will get a chance to get to know one another much better. Haruka, do you have to go soon?"
Michiru innocently watched Haruka as the girl resisted shooting the smaller brunette with a pointed look. "No, not really," Haruka told the doctor, "I can stay a little while."
Dr. Sato brightened at the news and then stepped around Haruka. The car keys jingled as he waved his hand in the air and said, "Well, I'll be back quick, I'm just heading out to pick up the cake. Michiru will show you around, Haruka. See you two in a little."
"See you soon." "Good bye." The girls said in unison.
With a near silent click, the door closed off the outside world. Both Michiru and Haruka stood perfectly still, listening to the doctor's footsteps recede until they could hear them no more. Rin was occupied with the boys.
"I didn't expect to see you here" Michiru hummed passively as she took a step away from Haruka, but remained in the genkan.
"Believe me, the surprise is mutual," Haruka replied tightly. Michiru moved to stand on the main floor, next to the slippers she had set out for Haruka. Michiru could see Haruka's tight jaw, the telltale sign that the girl was pissed off, when the latter leaned forward to set her gift bag down by the slippers.
"Is that so?" Michiru asked idly, eyes flickering over the black slacks and tank top the taller girl was wearing. There were golden rings decorating Haruka's fingers and a few thin golden necklaces at her chest- cross included. "And here I was, believing it was prime time for me to reverse the stalking accusation."
Not far from them both, the whole party erupted into laughter, Rin included. For once, it appeared as if Haruka couldn't think of anything to say. All the girl responded with was a cool glare that didn't leave Michiru even as she bent down to pick up her slippers and pointedly set them down in the genkan, so that when she put them on, she was on eye level with Michiru.
It hadn't been too long since they were this close, only a few days ago they had been whispering angrily at each other at the corner table of a convenience store. Yet now, staring each other down at a perfect eye-level, the proximity felt long overdue.
Everyone was surely waiting for them. "Let's be civil," Michiru hummed in a familiar tone as she turned at her heels, expecting Haruka to follow.
Long warm fingers curled around her wrist, the cold metal of the rings electrifyingly sharp in contrast. Michiru let out a soft gasp as Haruka jerked her back. Her feet fumbled over the ledge, she tripped and stumbled into Haruka. A soft cry escaped Michiru's lips as she felt a sharp sting of pain above her ankle. With a sharp yank of Michiru's arm, Haruka steadied the girl and took a step away.
Michiru's heart pounded in her ears. As she looked up at Haruka, who now held her wrist high in the air, Michiru felt her pulse everywhere- throbbing particularly strongly under Haruka's fingertips. Although the house was noisy, Michiru easily heard the shaky exhale that left Haruka's lips.
This was the first time someone had not been immediately slapped or brutally rebutted for touching Michiru without permission.
"If you so much as try to hurt anyone here I'll—" Haruka was cut off when Michiru closed the space Haruka made between them. Instead of wiggling away from Haruka's grip, Michiru had stepped closer to the girl, their chests lightly touching, their faces centimeters away.
"You'll what?" Michiru asked tersely, her cool gaze flickering over Haruka. Haruka's lips are so pretty. "Fight me?" Michiru taunted in an innocent whisper.
As the words left Michiru's mouth, she saw Haruka's eyes fall down to her lips. Michiru's breath hitched slightly as she watched Haruka's gaze travel lower, tracing the line of Michiru's neck and sinking down to her collarbones. Michiru realized that from the angle at which Haruka stood, the girl would be able to see the lacey trimmings of Michiru's bra under the plunging neckline she wore today.
Haruka's grip tightened on Michiru's wrist. It was pathetic- how such a tiny little thing was already causing Michiru's mind to spiral with inappropriate thoughts. A burning sensation stirred within her. Michiru bit the inside of her cheek and regarded Haruka with a cool, uninterested gaze.
"If it comes down to it," Haruka whispered back tightly. Haruka's ringed fingers slid a little lower on Michiru's forearm, her thumb pressing over Michiru's thrumming pulse.
It was sick...but Michiru suddenly wanted to piss Haruka off like never before. She could digest Haruka's fury, it was almost exhilarating. It was the disappointment, the heartbreak in Haruka's eyes at the end of Michiru's confession that the violinist hadn't been able to bear.
"I'd love to see you try, Tenoh," Michiru retorted cooly, evenly- her volume not a note above Haruka's. She tilted her head back more as she peered up at the blonde. "Just say when and where. If I knew picking a fight was all I had to do, I would have done it long ago."
It was then that Michiru realized there must've been something equally perverted about Haruka: the girl wasn't pulling away from Michiru even by a hair. It would've been in her character to tell Michiru to fuck off and shove her away, but instead- Haruka's fingers curled tighter around Michiru's wrist, possessively staking their territory on Michiru's body like hungry vines exploring a new home.
Haruka's jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed. "Aren't you getting sick of it, Kaioh? Chasing me? Begging me to join?" Haruka asked.
Michiru's expression mirrored Haruka's instantly. "We must be living in different realities," Michiru whispered back, giving Haruka a cool smile. "I live in one in which you appeared out of nowhere to pick up my scattered things. In one which you were waiting quite a while for me outside of my highschool despite being a student yourself. And in one which you showed up at my young friend's birthday party."
To her delight, Michiru saw Haruka lick her teeth in irritation.
"Tell me," Michiru continued, "have you ever even met the boy?"
The aggravated expression on Haruka's face told Michiru all she needed to know. "I'm dropping in as a favor for the doctor," Haruka retorted, "The kid's a fan."
"Mm," Michiru hummed in a dismissive tone, "Then concern yourself with making a good first impression. The doctor worked hard to make sure you and the others had gotten the care you deserved." Finally, Michiru drew away from Haruka by a couple of steps. Although the blonde didn't hold her back from doing so, she still kept her hold on Michiru.
Michiru eyed the hand around hers before flatly commenting, "Relax, Tenoh. There's no one here worth getting worked up about. Just some little kids and a tired mother." Haruka loosened her grip and Michiru finally pulled her wrist away. She rubbed it, eyeing the markings that the engravings from Haruka's rings left on her skin.
Rin called for their attention, asking if everything was alright. Both raised their voices to reply that they were coming without looking away from the other.
At last, Haruka picked up her gift bag and passed Michiru, walking deeper into the apartment.
—
"Oh, wow," the little boy exhaled as he stood in front of Haruka, staring up at her with large shining eyes. Haruka smiled warmly and sunk down, resting her arm on her knees as she looked him in the eye.
Michiru Kaioh walked past them, going to stand by the mother.
"Your dad tells me you like my racing, Sora," Haruka said. To that, the boy nodded vigorously. Haruka laughed lightly and extended her hand to the small lad. "Well, I'm very honored. It's nice to meet you. Happy Birthday, Sora," she said. The boy worked hard to conceal his excitement.
Rin leaned against a wall, her hands covering her amused smile as she watched her son straighten his posture and raised his head up high as he took Haruka's much larger hand and shook it with the air of a seasoned businessman.
"Nice to meet you, too," Sora said very properly. Yet, a heartbeat later, the boy's head practically smacked the floor with the ferocity of his bow as he exclaimed, "You're driving is so so so cool, Ms. Tenoh! You're my hero! I want to become a racer just like you and a doctor just like my dad! Please! Play cops and robbers with us!"
Haruka blinked. With an effort, Rin and Michiru tried to stifle their laughter.
"Only if I get to play the robber," Haruka said firmly. Sora and his friends cheered. Quickly, Sora turned around to the pretty girl standing by his mother and requested her alliance as a fellow cop.
Haruka saw her hesitate. Only then did she see that Michiru's lower leg was still bandaged. In fact, there appeared to be more on it than before.
"Oh, I wouldn't be a very good cop or robber, Sora," Michiru murmured softly, already raising her hands up to deny the request.
Sora pouted and begged. So did the other boys. They all had been dying to play a game with Sora's pretty guest. Haruka didn't blame them. Finally, Michiru relented and Sora ran over to give her a big hug. Immediately, Michiru's arms gently draped around him. With a soft smile, she looked down at him as he grinned up at her.
"Ah, well, let's now choose an item that our robber has to steal," Rin commented.
Sora perked up. "What about the wasabi ramen Michiru got me!" he offered, arms still around Michiru's hips.
Haruka looked at Michiru. She knew Michiru could feel her gaze, but the violinist made a show of being completely enthralled with the rambunctious birthday boy- gently petting his head and playing with his dark hair as Rin scolded her son for peeking at his presents.
When Michiru had talked about the friend she had been eating ramen with, Haruka had naturally assumed it was some popular highschool or older guy she was bound to be dating and not the little kid of the doctor she had been ready to take the life of.
Haruka hated how much Michiru Kaioh confused her.
Sora raised his nose in the air at his mother's accusations. "I'm going to be a cop when I grow up! It's my job to inspect the prememememsise."
"Premises," his mother clarified for the guests.
Haruka laughed, finally pulling her eyes away from Michiru. "Racer, doctor, and cop, Sora? That seems unambiguous, no?"
"I'll be an astronaut too!" Sora defended, glaring over his little shoulder at Haruka. Michiru's pretty fingers were soothing out his hair, pulling down the little thin strands that kept standing up due to some lingering static.
Haruka's eyes shined as she met the little boy's gaze.
"And—?"
Sora's eyes widened in open panic, clearly trying to think of all the professions he knew of, "And a lawyer! And a firefighter! And a barerberer."
"Barber," Rin clarified again and with a sigh, walked over to the pile of gift bags in the corner of the living room. She fished out one of the wasabi ramen bowls from Michiru's big bag.
"Now, all five of you— scram outside!" Rin order, "I'm going to set this item somewhere in the house, you wait and decide what's the home base. Be back in five minutes so no one catches any colds!"
"Okay!" Sora exclaimed. He took Michiru by the hand, ran over to Haruka, and took her by the other hand before leading his whole party out to his small front yard.
The front door was selected as the home base and the game began. When they re-entered the house, the ramen had been set in a very clear position, right in the middle of the coffee table, so it had taken Haruka no time to snatch it up. Easily, she wove through all the boys' tackles and dodges, but mysteriously, just as she was about to get to home base, her leg got a debilitating cramp and Sora's cousin tackled her down before she could win. The pattern repeated for every game, whether Haruka was a cop or a robber.
It didn't go unnoticed by Haruka or the boys that Michiru hardly took part in the action, mostly stepping aside to make sure she wasn't in anyone's way while she cheered her team on. If Haruka hadn't known better, she would've labeled prissy for not running around with them. The longer Haruka watched Michiru, and the longer she paid attention to Michiru's footing, the more impressed she became at how well the girl concealed the fact that she was barely stepping on her injured leg.
Aggressively, Haruka kicked out the unreasonable sense of concern.
"Let's have Michiru be the robber now!" Sora spoke up, his hair all fluffed up thanks to Haruka's habit of ruffling it whenever his team won a game.
"No! She's too pretty to be a robber!" Sora's cousin protested. Haruka glanced at Michiru with an unreadable expression before scowling down at the cousin. "And I'm not?" Haruka asked, sounding indignant, "And Sora's not? Look at him! He's the prettiest birthday boy ever!"
Sora blushed and didn't protest as Haruka ruffled his hair some more.
The cousin stammered. "No, no but...but Michiru is...like...um... like… a different quiet pretty. Like boring pretty!"
From the corner of her eye, Haruka saw Michiru's jaw drop in an aghast expression. Haruka hooted, immensely pleased. "Boring pretty? How so?" she wanted to know.
Sora, who was wisely nodding in understanding, said, "She's too nice! Too safe! She would never rob or hurt anybody!"
Haruka's smile faltered. When she turned to look at Michiru, the girl was already looking away.
"Ah, I see," Haruka uttered. She clapped her hands together. "But, let's give her a shot. Sometimes the best villains are the ones you never suspect! One last game with her as the robber and then we can all sit down to eat."
The boys vocally agreed. Haruka loved kids because they were always so energetic, but easy to control. The boys carried the wasabi ramen back to Rin and for Michiru's sake, Rin not only hid the ramen somewhere the boys could never look- upon the top shelf of the second floor closet, but also told Michiru where it was. Haruka overheard their exchange and once Michiru left, the boys following behind her, Haruka quietly asked Rin, "Is her leg okay?"
Rin frowned. "She said it was a light sprain…" her voice trailed off as she passed the cup of ramen between her hands.
"Did the doctor have a chance to look at it?" Haruka asked Rin, who shook her head in response.
"He offered, but…" Rin shrugged. The boys called for Haruka and she drew away from the mother, following them outside. Once their wait was done, Haruka did a good job of convincing the kids to split up early in the game, she would inspect the top floor, while they would try to find the ramen before the robber did on the first.
By the time Haruka ascended the stairs, Michiru was already at the closet, opening the door.
"Tapping the robber out all alone, Officer Tenoh?" Michiru asked wearily as the taller girl approached. Haruka noticed that Michiru was practically standing on one leg, resting half her weight on against the door knob.
Tucking her hands into her pockets, Haruka came to stand next to Michiru. "I expected you to be better at this game," she said. It was a loaded comment.
It seemed that Michiru had no inclination to respond. Both of them peered into the closet, seeing the wasabi ramen set atop of a violin case.
Haruka blinked. "That wasn't subtle of her."
"No, it really wasn't," Michiru mused, but didn't reach for either item, "She's been telling me she's been trying to get Sora to sit down and learn an instrument for the past two years. I think she's hoping he'll get inspired if he hears me play." Michiru shrugged. "I don't know if it will work, it isn't nearly as exciting as race car driving."
Without a word, Haruka reached up to get the ramen and the violin case. "It will," Haruka told her.
When Michiru extended her hand to take the things from Haruka, Haruka kept them to herself and asked, "Why won't you let the doctor look at your leg?"
Michiru folded her arms over her chest. "It's his day off, he doesn't need to be bothered."
"Then why didn't you go to another doctor?" Haruka immediately retorted.
"It hasn't been bothering me."
"Then why are you barely stepping on it."
"I hit it against the genkan edge when you pulled me down," Michiru told her smoothly.
Haruka faltered. She looked down at the hidden injury and resisted the urge to apologize.
"What is it? A cut?"
"A bite."
The nightmare from the other night flashed in Haruka's mind- both the images of a naked Michiru in her lap and a fanged monster surging forward to bite her face off. Haruka looked away.
Quietly, Michiru closed the closet door. They could hear the boys yelling and running around downstairs. Dr. Sato was pulling into the driveway.
"You're good with them."
Haruka turned to Michiru. She passed her the violin case. "I like kids," she replied honestly.
"I do, too," Michiru replied.
"Yeah," Haruka exhaled, running her hands through her short hair as she eyed the shorter girl, "I can tell." They heard the boys calling their names, little steps hurried ascending stairs.
They stood there, not really knowing what to say anymore.
"Do you hate me?" Michiru asked quietly.
The question stunned Haruka, her whole body seizing up. She swallowed and pursed her lips as she remembered how many quiet nights she spent watching Michiru's performance videos, how beautiful Michiru had looked sitting at the landing of the red-carpeted stairs, how gently Michiru had watched Tokyo's horizon, how good Michiru had smelled pressed against her in the train, how sweetly Michiru laughed at Elsa's and Ino's jokes while sitting across the table from Haruka, and how young and soft Michiru looked when she hovered her head low over her cup of steaming hot ramen, holding her bangs away from her face as she blew on the noodles.
Haruka shifted her weight from one foot to another. "I hate a lot of things in this world, Kaioh," she confessed begrudgingly, "Unfortunately, you are not one of them."
The boys spotted them and eagerly ran forward.
Michiru studied Haruka's face.
In a show of mercy, Haruka rested her hand briefly on Michiru's bare arm, effectively "tapping" the robber out before the other cops could descend.
Haruka stayed for dinner and dessert, but left just before Rin finished convincing Michiru to play a piece on the old out-of-tune violin. She fluffed Sora's hair by the door and told him he better be a violinist when he grows up as well.