Disclaimer: I do not own Sailormoon.
Warnings: Shoujo-ai. ANGST from now on, and expect more of it. I know, the fic is labeled romance/humor, please forgive me, but that was the mood I was in! Un-betaed. ::Sigh:: My editor seems to be too busy. Anyone interested?
Vocabulary: -kun (n.) – suffix used between schoolboys, perhaps between an older female schoolmate and a younger one who are not familiar with one another?
Notes: Thank you to all my wonderful readers and reviewers for their patience!
A Quiet Scene VII
It was raining. The sky hung like a gray fog over the city so that Haruka could not see beyond a few miles from their penthouse window. The glass was cool against her cheek. Inside, however, the clink of china and the fresh smell of coffee wove a warm tapestry of domesticity. Michiru bustled around the kitchenette, humming a half-remembered tune broken only by the pitter-patter of rain on the windowsill. It was early in the morning and Haruka was at her window-side niche, observing her partner in a well-worn routine. Michiru yawned and raised a hand to muss wavy hair in an attempt to stir herself into full wakefulness. The soft sleeve of the violinist's nightgown settled down by her elbow. That too was expected. But when Michiru opened the cabinet, Haruka frowned. There, sitting on the lower shelf were an array of mismatched cups: blue-green-glazed with long slender stems, curvilinear round-bottoms of white ceramic, yellow-tinted miniatures. They had been in Tokyo long enough for Michiru to acquire a permanent collection of glassware.
They had been in Tokyo for two whole months.
"Haruka?" The sea senshi turned and blinked the sleep from her eyes. Wayward strands of green framed Michiru's face like curling vines. Haruka smiled as the musician pressed the java into her hands, and joined the racer at the window.
A brief silence.
"It's feels just like this storm."
"Hmm?"
"All of Tokyo's been waiting for it for days. The weathermen kept saying it'd arrive the next morning, but it was only today that the wind finally blew it in," Haruka turned towards the metropolis beneath them. She did not sip from her cup. Michiru placed a gentle hand over the back of the wind senshi's free hand.
"What feels just like the storm?"
"Do you know, Michiru, that you now have twenty-four cups in the cabinet, and even more stored away in a box under the sink? You never had that many cups, " Haruka gazed at the small yellow frame by her foot. It was a picture of the young couple during their most recent recital at the music hall. "And we never had so many photographs before."
"Haruka. Can't I indulge myself a little?" Michiru took the cup away from Haruka's right hand. The coffee had done nothing to lessen the coldness of the racer's palms. The sea senshi rubbed the frigid digits tenderly. "In defense of my hobby, I recall you had one strange week where you kept giving your motorcycle paint jobs. First you complained red was too flashy, then that black was too solemn. Gray was too boring. Green was out of place. But yellow…happy, shocking yellow," Michiru chuckled, "You loved best." Haruka's lips twitched. "Every day in that week you came back from the garage a rainbow. I was starting to think you were trying out zebra strips and polka-dots on your vehicle too."
"I couldn't decide. That's what it feels like now – being left in limbo," Haruka squeezed Michiru's hand before she let go of it to pick up the photograph, "We keep building up things. Like birds we keep gathering mementos and memories in our nest. And every day that the storm does not come is a day that promises the storm will be greater when it does. Where are the youmas? We followed them here, but now they have disappeared."
"So you wonder then…if the hunters become the hunted," Michiru said slowly as she leaned against her partner's shoulders and accepted the frame. "I do not think so. We're too smart to fall into a trap. We can't afford to fall into a trap. The whole world depends on us - if we fail, then everyone's lives, their hopes, their happiness," Michiru stroked a finger over their smaller counterparts, "They will disappear."
"Michiru?"
Michiru Kaioh rose and returned to the stove. She wanted pancakes for breakfast.
"Go get dressed Haruka, or we'll be late for school." Haruka stared at the musician's back a few uneasy moments before she headed towards the bedroom. The photograph had now been relocated to the kitchen counter, close by Michiru's side…and close to her heart. As the last of the wind senshi's footsteps faded away, Michiru cracked an egg into the sizzling frying pan.
"I won't let that happen, Haruka. I won't let them take away our happiness… I won't let our happiness be destroyed..."
Haruka liked eggs in the morning. Scrambled and lightly browned. They were getting ruined by the wetness of tears. Michiru wiped the offending liquid quickly away and reached for another egg.
"…Because I love you too much already."
Her own pancakes would have to wait.
*****
The violinist was quiet as they passed through Mugen's grounds. Beneath their shared umbrella, Haruka felt uncomfortable. Her usual morning eggs had appeared to be cooked to perfection, but the piano-player had to choke them down. Haruka wasn't sure if that had been the result of bad eggs, or more likely, the tense atmosphere that had hung around the dinning table. The wind senshi hadn't meant for her negative mood to affect Michiru so drastically.
"Eudial-sempai," Michiru bowed. So focused was Haruka on Michiru, and so intent had Michiru been on the sidewalk they had not noticed the older classmate until they had collided with her. The woman had red hair and gemlike eyes. The light in them spoke of razor sharp intelligence.
"Kaioh-kun, Tenoh-kun," Eudial nodded as Haruka also bowed. Eudial was wearing her glasses and a perplexed expression. Far ahead of her younger classmates, she was undoubtedly stressed about her harder curriculum. Rumor had it she was also part of an exclusive student group with an extra class at commons hour taught by Professor Tomoe himself. Where they met remained a mystery.
"Are those new earrings?" Michiru smiled, hopping to smooth over their bad encounter.
Eudial startled and reached towards one of the large black stars dangling from one of her ears. "Yes, it was a gift, for my hard work." When she smiled she looked less intimidating, more like any regular student attending Mugen.
"With Kaolinite-san?"
"What?"
"Aren't you working in the lab with her? I was under the impression…" Both Kaolinite and Eudial had substituted for a sick biology teacher during his week-long absence from Michiru and Haruka's class.
"Oh, no. Kaolinite-san's not a student. She's Professor's Tomoe personal assistant. She only works with him. In fact, she insists that she only work with him. I hope to also do the same one day, but as for now, I'm actually still learning. However, I have been making good progress. The other girls are not as serious about the work as I am."
"Work?" Haruka finally took part of the two-way conversation.
"My lab work remains classified, unfortunately. You do understand, Tenoh-kun."
"Of course," Haruka agreed. Despite the fact that Mugen was an exemplary school, with students like Eudial taking the initiative of doing independent research, there were still incidents of plagarism. The small group granted time for independent research kept whatever they were learning or practicing a secret.
"Eudial!" A girl with ridiculously round glasses waved at the group by the school's main entrance as she approached them. She had a high grating voice, and guileless eyes. "There you are, come on we have to get going. Did you get that last problem? Thinking about DNA makes me dizzy." Giggle.
"I'm not helping you," something flashed in Eudial's eyes.
"Oh, but why not? I can't move onto the next lesson then, just like the professor said. I mean, I understood the schematics of Tokyo, and target areas where we expect to find the carriers in the populace. But if I don't get recombinant DNA, how can I make a you-know- "
"You put a mouse-trap in my locker!"
" –what to find them. Oh, come on Eudial-chan! That was just a joke."
"It nearly snapped my finger off! Get away from me!" Eudial's hair loosened from their tie. The mysterious orange-haired girl with the cherub face played the part of the hurt friend beautifully.
"But Eudial!!" The shout was heard throughout campus as she followed her classmate into the higher levels of the Mugen building.
"She's strange."
Haruka looked at Michiru in surprise, but the blue stare remained fixed on the bubbly girl. "There's something not right about her. Like a shadow, hiding just underneath the superficial surface."
"If you ask me, Eudial's the strange one. Her intensity is frightening at times."
"Eudial? Haruka…don't tell me you're still scared of her," Michiru smiled. When Eudial had substituted, she had been relentless on Haruka with biology questions after discovering the racer had forgone studying the last few chapters in order to finish bike repairs for an upcoming race.
"It's not that."
"Maybe you're just being paranoid."
"Maybe I am. I used to think early mornings made me philosophical, but maybe they really make me paranoid. Look at the sky Michiru, it's clear. The storm has come and gone in less than an hour." It was a peace offering, asking for their morning conversation to be forgotten, to return to the balance that had been previously undisturbed between them.
"Yes, it's passed," Michiru gazed wistfully at the heavens. Haruka made to interlock their fingers, but the sea senshi withdrew and began to walk towards the school entrance. Michiru's voice was so soft that the wind senshi almost did not hear her, "But the large one's still to come, and I still dream of the world submerged in a tidal wave, made the ruins of Atlantis in less than a blink of the eye. I shouldn't forget that, should I? "
In that moment, Haruka thought that Michiru felt farther away than the three feet of pavement that lay between them.
With some luck, TBC…
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