I'm sorry if any of you are going to run away from this fic now, but I hope you'll all understand and continue to enjoy my story nevertheless )
Disclaimer: I do not own Bishoujo Sailor Moon or any of its characters except for Kazuki who I made up randomly on the spot. The original manga rightfully belongs to Takeuchi Naoko.
by Enchanted Ice Star
I was strangely calm during the period of time before 7:00PM. My mother hadn't noticed the absence of my violin, and I was glad, but I myself was sorely missing its comfort. When little five year olds liked to run around hugging their stuffed bunny rabbits, I ran around hugging my violin. I was a strong believer that a musical instrument was much more alive than a silly, cotton stuffed toy. That violin had been with me for a long time too.
A very long time.
My very first concert had been with it.
And I supposed now, that my very last concert had also been with it. I told myself not to think about it too much. What could I do? Magically call it to me, in pristine condition? Besides, it was probably stained with that man's blood...I immediately shook my head and stood up from my desk chair. I had been attempting to review some of my chemistry notes but to no avail. I was much too distracted.
Mother was right, Haruka was a bad influence. I was starting to lose it. I could usually juggle everything. From school stress to family problems to everything extra-curricular. Yet enter Tenou Haruka, and I was already falling to pieces.
"Kaioh-san?"
I looked towards my bedroom door and saw my driver poking his head in. He was old, almost ancient, but that still did not make me any less angry that he had played 'spy' for my mother. I stood up from my chair quietly, having already changed out of my school uniform into a simple white skirt and turquoise sweater. I had decided that modest yet tasteful would be safe for the situation.
"Are you ready to go now?"
"Is my...mother coming?" I asked, though deep down I already knew the answer.
"No, miss," my driver's white moustache twitched ever so slightly. "But your father is."
"My father?" I repeated quietly. I hadn't seen him for nearly two months. In fact, I hadn't seen him at all ever since I had gotten home. Out of habit, I went to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and exited my room. "Where is he?"
"He was in his den room, but he's waiting in the car already."
"Oh," I answered and without another word, I descended the stairs with my head poised and posture straight. I had missed my father, his presence always made me feel safe, and I knew his support at the police station was definitely appreciated. Yet, ever since my teenage years, I had felt like we had grown apart. I couldn't sit on his lap anymore while he researched on his laptop. I couldn't let him piggyback me around to the office now and then, because I had my own responsibilities now too.
As I entered the black Mercedes at the front door, my father looked up and smiled. He had a dimpled one, making him look very genial and open, not a serious uptight business man. But in actual fact, he knew how to be serious and he definitely knew how to work people to their highest potential. Perhaps that was why he was so keen to work at his daughter too. To make her reach her highest potential someday. I sat down beside him and returned the smile.
"You came back."
"Of course," he pecked me on the forehead. His hair use to be a deep raven, but it was slowly graying. Still, he radiated some sort of youthful glow that never seemed present in my mother. He looked awfully sharp in his navy blue tuxedo and silver tie, and his square-rimmed glasses set off a professional look. I loved my father. He treated me more or less like...a real daughter.
It was strange to explain.
"How's my little girl been?" He asked as the driver started the car.
"Wonderful now that you're back," I answered softly. "It's been lonely in the house."
"Oh, it won't be so lonely anymore Michi," my father grinned, his white teeth flashing. "Tomorrow your mother and I are going to invite a few friends over for dinner. I expect my little princess will be there?"
I suppressed my urge to frown, and instead I gripped at the thin fabric of my skirt. They had only been back for how long? A day? And they wanted to bring outsiders in before we had even spent any quality time? I wanted to say that the house was full enough with mother and father, and all the maids and butlers. But I suddenly couldn't. A strange bubble had formed in the depth of my throat and I could only nod.
"Fantastic," he smiled again.
I tilted my head thoughtfully, eyeing my father out of the corner of my blue green eyes. "You...you aren't going to ask me why? Or how?"
"Why...or how?" My father looked confused, but I knew he wasn't. He was intelligent.
I was patient though, thankfully. "Why we're going to the police station? Are you not the least bit curious?"
"Oh, that," my father didn't smile then, his expression quite unreadable. But I guessed he was somewhat flustered and once again, for the second time that day, I saw disappointment in someone's eyes. Once again I felt a surge of indescribable pain. I hadn't meant to disappoint them. I had never disappointed them. I really hadn't. And this was the first time. But I didn't want to admit that. Because that would mean I had admitted defeat. Defeat that I really did do something horrible. But I didn't.
"Your mother told me about it," was his answer. I bit my lip.
"It's okay princess," he placed a large hand over my own. "I know you Michi and you aren't one to mingle in such affairs. You were just trying to help that young man, I'm sure."
I felt a wave of gratitude towards him at once.
"And I'm sure you'll cut any ties with this Tenou Haruka after tonight," he finished, giving me a straight-forward stare. "Am I correct?"
I suddenly felt like saying 'Yes sir!' but decided against it. I nodded and we fell into silence.
They all wanted me to severe any ties I had with Haruka- which was next to nil, but yet so much at the same time. The mature, understanding side of me knew why my parents were both so strongly against Haruka, but yet I felt an injustice there too. They both didn't know him, so why did they immediately deem him as bad? Perhaps if they were to meet him, they'd realize how polite he was and what intelligence shone in the depth of his teal eyes.
And yet, why was I standing up for him?
I hadn't liked him very much. He unnerved me.
In a nice way.
"We're here," my father broke my thoughts as the driver opened the door for us. I followed my father out and looked up to see the stark white police building looking menacing before me. I knew I had done nothing wrong though, so I proceeded with a calm aura around me.
"We'll make sure not to mention this event to anyone," my father suddenly said in a low voice beside me as we entered through the sliding glass doors.
I looked at him sharply, "Why?"
"Why?" He seemed surprised that I had asked. He chuckled, "Why, princess, do you want others to know that you've been here?"
"As a witness," I reminded him.
My father seemed to contemplate the word before shaking his head. "It's still the same to us, Michi. We're still in a police station, where we really don't need to be."
"I thought you supported my efforts in saving Tenou-kun," my voice was slightly hard as I stared at my father straight in the eyes. He refused to meet my gaze though, and I was inwardly breaking again. Losing hope again. Had I really thought one of my parents would understand? Of course not. They were perfectionists. It probably burned their perfect, gleaming souls to be in this building.
"I'm proud of your brave actions," my father answered slowly. "Never mind Michi, let's just get this over and done with."
I watched as he approached a desk where many uniformed men were running to and about. Father talked to a tall, broad-shouldered officer who briefly looked at me and then nodded to my father again. He looked over his shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile, but I had that sixth sense that underneath his blue eyes, he was dying to get out of the 'embarrassing' situation we were in.
"Okay princess, we're just going to follow Officer Kenji," my father ushered me over towards him and we followed the officer down a hallway and into another stretch of rooms. We eventually entered a small, empty room except for a table and a few chairs. The lamp hanging overhead was low and dim, and very much intimidating.
"Miss Kaioh?" Officer Kenji waved a hand towards one of the chairs. "There a few photo albums that we've laid out for you on the table. I want you to try to remember anything. What the men might have been wearing. How tall they were. Anything unique about their movements. A limp perhaps."
He went on, but I was already in one of the red plastic chairs and was already flipping through the first album of pictures. I knew it was silly. I hadn't remembered any of their faces, except...maybe for the most recent attack just a few hours ago. Those three men, even though they had goggles on, I had a vague image of them at least. Yet...as I glanced up at Officer Kenji and my father patiently sitting across from me, I realized that nobody knew about the attack.
Just the three men, Haruka, and me.
Strangely, I decided not to say anything about it.
"Well?" My father's voice seemed slightly too high.
I glanced up passively just as I flipped another page, but my father wasn't the one who caught my attention. Beyond his shoulder and through the door's small window was Tenou Haruka. He passed by and paused, having caught my gaze. He seemed slightly startled to see me here, but I gave him a small smile and he instantly did not seem worried. Seconds later, another officer had poked him and shuffled him along and out of the window's perspective sight.
I looked away and flipped again, but instantly backtracked to the previous page. It was a page with a photograph of a man, 24, with eyes that seemed awfully familiar. My eyes narrowed as I glanced at the small fingerprints documented on the side, then, I glanced at his face again. I remembered, that navy sweater man with his strong grip on my arm. The man I had wounded.
"Does he seem familiar?" Officer Kenji piped up, coming around the table to peer over my shoulder.
I did not know what to do. He might not have been one of the men who attacked Haruka the night before, but he was definitely from the same group of people, and he did definitely attack us today. But once again, no one knew about today. And if I told everyone about today , then they would trace him down, probably find him in a nearby hospital, and he would probably bring in the fact that a certain violin had been used to knock him unconscious.
"Miss Kaioh?"
I looked up almost fleetingly. Stay calm, I chided myself. I took a breath and quickly decided. My mother's voice rung in my head.
You saved this Tenou-kun once, but people like him don't have an end with this type of activity. He'll only get killed another time.
Maybe I could prove my mother wrong. Maybe I could make sure at least one less person out there was hunting down Haruka because of his talented racing abilities. With that prominent thought in mind, I smiled slightly and nodded. I placed a hand on the plastic covering the photograph and traced my finger over the name. "This man. I'm almost positive he was one of them."
"Okay," Officor Kenji glanced over the file briefly. "I'll get into it immediately. I need to go talk to Tenou now."
The officer lead us out of the small room and told us how to leave and that they would call if they needed anymore assistance. As he turned to head down the hallway, he stopped abruptly and turned to grin. "Tenou sure is lucky that you found her in time."
The officer merely chuckled and waved his hand carelessly in the air before leaving in a hurry again. My father nudged me and I snapped out of my temporary daze and followed him out of the building. Why had that sentence sounded slightly strange? I couldn't quite place a finger on it. My eyes narrowed. Had Officer Kenji said...she? I stepped into the awaiting car still in deep thought.
Of course not. That was silly of me. I must have lost my ears...
"Michi?"
I looked up at my father who seemed slightly worried. I smiled briefly, "I'm worrying about tomorrow's dinner. That's all."
My father smiled in relief at that and went on to make a call on his cell phone. I looked away slowly, thinking dismally in my mind that if I were Pinocchio, my nose would be as long as my legs, or arms, or something, well- long.
I was usually very attentive during my classes and eager to learn, but today, I was simply dreading the fancy dinner that my parents would be holding at our mansion in a few hours. The simple thought of putting up with formidable guests was uninviting, and it made home feel so much less welcoming. Not that it was ever overwhelmingly welcoming anyways.
"Thanks for coming yesterday."
I jumped at the low, smooth voice that sounded right next to my ear. I should have usually detected the presence of someone creeping up on me, but I was so lost in my brooding thoughts that I had not noticed Tenou Haruka crouching beside my desk.
"The bell rang," he offered as an explanation.
I glanced around at the empty math classroom and simply started packing my books. He grinned. "They caught one of the men that attacked us yesterday."
I was relieved, and my expression showed it. "I'm glad," I returned the smile and stood up. As I looked into his wonderful teal eyes, my parents' words echoed and resounded painfully in my head. My grip on my schoolbag tightened.
"Is something wrong?" He looked sincerely worried, and I was immediately touched. I did not know why I was suddenly feeling so daring, so trusting to this handsome man. Perhaps because his eyes were so real. So different to all those rich daughters and sons of my parents' friends. Their kindness and worry was all for show, just like mine to them. But Haruka was different. His eyes held no motive, no inner goal in just being kind, worried, real.
Seeing that no one else was in the classroom anymore, I decided to ask something that had been nagging me ever since my parents had made their abrupt return to my life. "Do you think our meeting is an accident?" I hadn't asked it like I was frightened, or shy, it was a straight-forward question. I held my gaze with his, and noticed that he seemed surprised.
"An accident?" He stood up to his full height, an impressive 5'9" compared to my own height. He thought over my words before an amused light danced in his eyes. "Of course not. I would call it fate."
Fate. I liked his way of putting it. It seemed so much more surreal and fantastic, compared to the harsh cold word of 'accident'. I suddenly wasn't so worried about what my parents thought, how my parents perceived our small, but growing relationship. "Fate," I echoed softly and looked at him mischievously. "Sounds like a word used for the dreamer."
He laughed, "Are we all not dreamers?"
"I'm more realistic," I answered. "I know my capabilities and do not dream above them."
Once again I saw surprise spread in his eyes. "That's depressing," he ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "Very depressing, for such a beautiful example of a girl like you. By your words, I think you are not quite sure where you are."
This time I looked appalled. I stood up, attempting to feel more intimidating but was still a head shorter than him. "An example? I am anything but and I do know where I am," my eyes narrowed. "I'm in Mugen Academy, attending eleventh grade, and I--"
He placed a finger to my lips, silencing me. I felt my breath catch and my heart stop- almost. "Silly," he teased. "Everyone dreams, and I do not mean the visions you have at night." His finger went away and I suddenly missed the gentle weight on my lips. "If you don't dare to dream, you will get nowhere. Dreams are the foundation of our accomplishments in life. If you are truly being honest," he paused, and eyed me severely, "then you are nowhere in life."
His words sounded suddenly harsh, but I felt no intimidation by his words. They simply sounded like he was trying to guide me somewhere, to let me see the light. But still, I felt the overwhelming sense of lost and realization. Dreams are the foundation of our accomplishments in life. I thought back, to my childhood, to the days I dreamt of being a princess riding on a winged stallion. I remembered my silly dreams of wanting to be normal, to play in the dirt and roll around in the grass not caring about grass stains.
I looked at him sharply then, swinging my bag over my shoulder as I did so. "Normally, I would tell you to go reprimand someone else with your wonderful psychological words," I smirked hollowly, "but no, I think you really hit something there. I do dream, if that's what you're trying to get me to realize. But my dreams are futile, simply figments of my delirious imagination," I softened my gaze. "You are right. I am nowhere."
"That's not what I meant," he seemed frustrated, somewhat distressed that I was thinking the way I was.
"Maybe not, but your words made me realize," I lifted my head in an attempt to seem strong, my aqua hair tumbling over my shoulders as I did so. "That I have not accomplished anything in life. I am not a dreamer, and I am nowhere," I said this with such certainty that I was surprised at my own tone. I looked away quickly and decided I had better leave before I started spilling out all my thoughts. It was dangerous enough that Tenou Haruka now knew how ugly my inner thoughts were.
He must now think that I was a horrible person. A sulking idiot. I did not care though.
I was halfway out the classroom door when he stopped me, his grip on my wrist gentle but strong.
"How can you say that?" His voice was stressed. I turned to look at his face, strained and somewhat...angry? "You have accomplished so much more compared to the average person. You are a top swimmer, an infamous violinist, a talented painter. Are they all nothing to you? Do you take these things for granted?" He seemed fueled by something within himself, I could not tell what. "Are you not thankful, Kaioh Michiru? I thought you were a humble girl, someone who knew sense."
I frowned. "You are judging me," and within, I thought sadly that he was judging me negatively when I finally let him see what I really felt. Did that really mean who I...was hiding within myself all along...was a horrible, retched creature that would even make Haruka, who seemed to trust me with high expectations of goodness, recoil in distaste?
"I merely want to know why you think this way," he said hurriedly.
I turned full circle to face him, my plaid school skirt swishing around me. I smiled, a bitter smile. "I am a top swimmer, an infamous violinist, a talented painter," I smirked. "I am...those things. But I want to be..." my breath caught uncomfortably in my throat as I nearly choked. "I want to be..." how could I say this? I hardly knew him, and if I revealed even more of myself, he would simply judge me and let me realize further how ugly I was within. "I just...want to be." I finished, my breath hitching again and I knew I could not say anything more. I just couldn't.
He was looking at me with eyes filled with mixed emotions. He seemed surprised again, confused, worried, a desire to learn in his eyes. "You are so mysterious Michiru."
Michiru. It felt so comforting to simply hear him say my name.
"I want to see you, Michiru," he said in all honesty. "You confuse me, and yet everything you say is so clear at the same time. I don't quite understand...you really captivate me."
"I'm afraid I can't let you see me," I answered stiffly, frightened at my openness to the blonde racer standing so sincerely before me. "Tenou-san."
I turned away, and this time he did not stop me except to say something to my retreating figure.
"Hey, your violin is a Stradivarius right?"
What a strange question, I thought briefly before nodding the slightest bit. I did not bother to turn around, but I could almost sense Haruka smiling. I frowned mentally. Did he not understand that I was giving him the cold shoulder?
"And by the way, just call me Haruka."
I sat in my bedroom, in front of my marble vanity desk with a brush in one hand while the other fiddled with my own aqua locks. In a few minutes I would have to prance out of my room, in my beautiful simple black dress and show all my wonderful parents' friends how perfect, endearing, and absolutely stunning I was. I stared hard at my reflection, my hair cascading around me in gentle smooth waves, my lips shining a soft pink, my lashes long and doll-like. A pair of emerald earrings in the shape of shooting stars hung listlessly on my ear as the thin silver chain around my neck glinted.
I felt it again. It was that overwhelming sense of disgust. That overwhelming desire to throw something at the mirror depicting the girl sitting in front of it. I wished with all my might that I could sprout wings and fly away. It was that futile feeling again. That suffocating feeling again.
I didn't know why. I always felt it. It was a constant plague.
And Haruka's words just would not leave me alone. I knew he hadn't meant for me to think the way I was thinking, but I could not help it. I was indeed nowhere. All my supposed accomplishments in life were all so empty, hollow, a reflection of someone by parents wanted me to be.
I shut my eyes, the darkness of my room comforting to my pounding head. I wanted to play with stuffed toys and build lop-sided sand castles and go run around on the beach without any worry in the world. Without any responsibility, any weight on my shoulder. My desire was so huge, like a sudden tsunami wave that I felt like I had drowned. My eyes stung.
I did not understand what was wrong. I always felt this way when I knew it would be another long night. Another long night of fake small talk and forced tight smiles and perfect table manners. Another night where I was Michiru- the perfect sculpted statue, never breaking, never wavering, always standing with poise and grace. Another night where I was to be inhuman.
Not that I felt human anyway.
"Kaioh-san, the guests have arrived," one of the maids whispered from their position at the door of my room.
I stood up, back straight, the air around me stifling. I placed my brush gently on the desk and turned to leave the room, my black heels difficult to walk in on the carpeted floor of the room. My gaze was level as I walked purposefully, with a sense of direction. But within, I really had no clue where I was going, what I was doing, what my purpose was. As I descended the stairs and gazed at the many heads gathered at the entrance, I suddenly realized.
What was my purpose?
Was I here, on earth, living, breathing, dying all at the same time, to just be a perfect doll? A manikin sporting beautiful clothing when inside, I felt utterly ugly. So very horrible and black and filthy. I had no dreams capable of following, except for the set path of perfection. I had no worth except for my musical talents and artistic abilities. All that was so...empty. Devoid of anything me .
"Michiru! Is that Michiru? Oh, you look lovely tonight!"
Some stout woman with short bobbed red hair was gushing at me as if I were a little girl. I almost expected her to pinch my cheeks, but I was much taller than her and she stopped in front of me awkwardly, as if just realizing that fact. I immediately felt the ritual of my lips twitching into a smile of politeness. I couldn't remember who this person was, but thankfully father came up to us and beamed.
"Oh, Mrs. Etsuko, I see you've met my precious pearl," my father placed a hand on my shoulder. Strangely, I felt even colder.
"Oh, she's grown up so much!" Mrs. Etusko turned to look at me and took my hands into her own chubbier ones. "I saw you when you were just a little girl! Even then you were outstanding with the violin! You're going to one of the best violinists one day. I know it," she winked.
I managed to blush. I didn't know how I did it, but I did. Even though these flatteries and comments were so worn and used, I still managed to look humble, as if I appreciated their words. I really once did. Some time ago...when I was naive enough to think their praise was worthy of acknowledging, that their praise would really ensure my success. That their praise was genuine. But no. Their words only made things worst.
They expected me to be so much, when I had felt most comfortable at a lower level. But I couldn't. I didn't know why I had to make sure I exceeded expectations.
"I'm sure she will be," my father squeezed my shoulder.
I nodded slowly, "Thank you for your encouragement Mrs. Etsuko. I hope I won't disappoint you."
"Disappoint me?" She laughed heartily. "Never!"
Never. Never. I will never be able to fail. I can not fail. These thoughts spun in my mind, like an endless song, an endless chant set on repeat. If I fell, people will be sad, people be laugh, people will point, people will shake their heads. I couldn't allow that. I couldn't.
I suddenly wondered if I had too much pride.
Somewhere along the way of greeting guests and pleasing them with my grace and eloquence, I found myself seated beside my mother at the long dinning table topped with a white-laced cloth. We always had our more fancy dinners in the grand dinner room, where a table fit for thirty was set in the centre of the room. The chandelier had recently been polished, reflecting a magnitude of colours across the pale blue walls of the room.
I waited politely for my father to make the first stab at his food, then followed suit like the rest of the guests. My mother nudged me slightly with her thin elbow and beamed, "Michiru, I want you to meet Akira."
I followed her gaze, uninterested, across the table towards a young man around my age. He wasn't bad to look at, not at all. He had chestnut brown hair, intelligent green eyes, and was dressed in a sharp looking black tuxedo, a rose in his breast pocket. I smiled on instinct, being the girl that I was, but once again I felt that fake mold of plastic around me. This was all fake. The rose in his pocket, it did not shine- it was fake. The smile on my lips, it was real, and yet, deep down, it was fake. I sat there. And I was fake.
"Nice to meet you Michiru-san," he greeted, his voice low and nice to listen to. "Our parents are quite good friends, but I've never met you before."
"I guess we are both very busy people," I replied, my voice so light and almost joyful that no one would ever see the wilting water lily drowning amongst the water surrounding it.
"No, I have simply been out of luck until now," he smiled, a dimple showing on his left cheek. "I am a big fan of your artwork."
"Oh?" I nodded my head a bit, dabbing at my lips gingerly with the clean white napkin on my lap.
"Yes," he continued. "Your painting 'End of the World'...it is so dark and deep," he frowned slightly. "Very emotional. Where did you get such inspiration?"
My mind. My heart. My essence, I thought bitterly, but once again I looked at the man with a doeful look. "I had a dream about it, and it inspired me," I lied smoothly.
"Ah, that is nice to hear," he was fiddling with his wine glass now, swishing the deep blood-like liquid around and around. "I should have known. Such a talented and beautiful woman such as yourself would of course have equally wonderful and beautiful dreams."
I stiffened involuntarily. Haruka's voice was chiming like a bell in my mind again.
I had told Haruka that I was not a dreamer. That I was nowhere.
"Michiru-san?"
I managed a quick smile, "I don't really need dreams. Reality suits me quite well."
He laughed and shook his head, "Quite right," he took a drink. My mother beside me seemed to be glowing with happiness that we were getting along. I inwardly glared but kept my composure. "A girl like Michiru-san does not need dreams, because reality is already sweeter than any made up imaginary world she could conjure."
I bit my lip, "Are you saying my reality is wonderful?"
"It is, isn't it?" He seemed slightly confused. "You truly are as perfect as my parents described you to be. Your reality must be one of a fairy tale."
"A fairy tale," I restated, restraining myself to do something completely out of character, but my hands underneath the tablecloth were shaking. I did not know why, but I was furious. This man didn't know me, he didn't know me at all! He would not understand that my life was anything but a fairy tale. What on earth made everyone think that I was living life in an utter fantasy?
"Ah yes, Michiru-chan has a wonderful life," my father's friend piped up next to Akira. "You must never have any frustrations, am I right? You have everything so worked out for you in life," he chuckled.
"Oh yes, Michiru-chan is a lucky one," another woman suddenly entered upon the ridiculous conversation. "The perfect family, the intelligence, the talents, and the looks to boot! You must be the envy of all the girls in your school, hm?"
I didn't know what to do. Nod? Smile? Grin? Thank her? I could do none of it. I simply stared.
"She's definitely going to be just as successful as her parents," Akira's father chimed.
I felt my mother next to me blush and say a few flattering words back. Everything was so fake. Everything was so surreal. The room was suddenly very hot and the air humid. The chandelier's light was scalding and all I wanted to do was jump into a pool, break the flat plain of cool water and feel it embrace me before I drowned into the fiery pits of the hell I was in.
"A girl like her doesn't even need to worry about anything!"
"She sure got born into the right family!"
"You brought her up so wonderfully Kaioh-san! You have to teach me how!"
"Perfection!"
"She should become a model!"
"Nonsense, a lawyer!"
"No, no! An actress! Something to do with the media! She has everything in her favour!"
"I see her as a dancer."
"No, I still think a musician works best with her natural grace and charm."
I did not know what happened then, but I snapped. I felt something within me crush painfully in my stomach and all the fancy steak and salad that I had ate previously churned wildly. My nails were digging into my soft palms, drawing blood, staining the white napkin draped across my lap but I could care less. I stood up abruptly, automatically asking if I could be excused to go to the bathroom.
I felt my mother's eyes on my back, all the way until I turned the corner and out of the dining room. Hell. Whatever it was called.
The rest of the mansion was silent. The butlers and maids were absent from the many halls, and no lights were turned on elsewhere. The light washing in from the windows were from the crescent moon shining through, and all I wanted to do was fly up there and join it in the night sky. I found myself walking, quickly, quietly, heels soft as I crossed the ballroom and towards the adjoining balcony.
An easel was set up there, because I loved to paint on the balcony. But I was here now for a different reason. I needed air.
The crisp night breeze was like ice against my hot bare skin, blowing my aqua coloured hair around me as my earrings swayed. I was angry, I was sad, I was flattered by their words yet despised them all the same. They did not care about what I desired, what I wanted to be, what I wanted to do. They did not know that I was human, that I worried like any other teenager on earth, that I had crushes just like any girl, that I also had my own frustrations.
Why wouldn't I have any frustrations?
My grip on the marble railing tightened.
Oh right, of course Kaioh Michiru wouldn't have any worries!
She's perfect!
She's inhuman!
She's not made of flesh and blood like the rest of them!
"...Am I not suppose to feel?" I whispered desperately, wanting anyone, something, any sound to reply.
I heard nothing, but the rustle of leaves, the howl of wind, and a gentle rumbling of a motorcycle's engine.
I blinked. A motorcycle's engine?
I looked downwards, out into the backyard then over the fence and onto the street.
"Hey!"
I jumped, startled by the greeting from below and saw that someone was perched casually on top of his motorcycle. He had taken off his helmet, and all too familiar sandy blonde hair met my gaze and I realized that I had never been happier to see someone in my life.
"Tenou-san?"
He looked at me sternly and I quickly corrected myself, swiftly hiding the painful thoughts that had just graced my mind moments before. "I mean Haruka," I tilted my head. "How did you...come to be here?"
"I looked you up in the school directory," he confessed sheepishly with a shrug. Then, he caught my gaze with a serious tone in his teal eyes. "Would you like to come for a ride?"
"A ride," I echoed softly.
He raised a spare helmet towards me. I was so tempted, but I was frightened that if I retraced my steps towards the front door, someone would spot me and tell me to return to dinner table again. I suddenly realized I would not be able to bare another second in their company. My heart yearned for freedom, to flow freely like water.
Then I did something I never thought I would do.
I raised a finger towards him, indicating him to give me a moment. I turned swiftly around, my heels clanking as I entered the ballroom again. I looked around, determined, and spotted the fancy embroidered curtains. For an instance, I wondered what my mother would say, but a fraction of a second later, I was smiling to myself as I tore them down from the gold bar they were hanging from.
I returned to the balcony, heavy curtains in tow. Haruka glanced up at me, confusion written on his face. He looked quite adorable there, standing against the moonlight, looking at me as if I had grown another head.
"Michiru?"
"Hai, be patient Haruka," I replied, wondering to myself when his name had ever sounded so natural upon my lips. I worked quickly, my hands dancing as I tied a tight knot to the railing and tugged, testing its endurance.
Haruka finally seemed to understand what I was doing and instantly made a sort of strangled cry. "Michiru! Are you insane!"
"Anything but," I replied steadily. For the first time that evening, my mind felt clear and spirited. When I was motivated, nothing could stop me. Even gravity. I swung myself over the balcony. Haruka made another strange sound and I giggled, not knowing where my sudden bravery was coming from. My desire to join Haruka below? My desire to get away from this horrid place called home? I didn't know. I simply felt alive.
I started my descent, glad that the balcony wasn't all that high up. From below it felt so awfully far, and yet, my feet touched the grass before I even understood what I was doing. The steady rumble of the motorcycle's engine told me that Haruka had not sped off in fright at my strange actions. I hurried towards the side door and exited the backyard and onto the sidewalk.
He seemed so wonderful up close, like a knight in shining armor coming to take me away on his...motorcycle.
He scratched his head awkwardly, looking adorable once again. "Er, well, if that's your way of exiting the house, I'm kind of worried if I've picked up a monkey instead."
I took long steps until I stood inches away from him. I glanced up, knowing with all my heart and soul that being next to Haruka was a thousand times better then sitting amongst father and mother's friends. I did not know why, but his mere presence felt more like home than home itself ever did.
It was overwhelming, this desire to feel warmth, any bit of humanity. I tilted my head and pressed against his chest, shutting my eyes and breathing in his wonderful scent- something along the lines of pine and the crisp clean smell of the wind.
"Onegai Haruka. Take me away."
AN: Onegai means please just in case you were wondering. Strange, I don't think I normally write a chapter this long, but I got carried away. By next chapter, some events will happen that will turn Michiru's world a bit upside down, so don't worry, my story won't be so flat all the way through. Thank you for reading my fic and I hope you enjoyed it ;)! Reviews are appreciated