-1Disclaimers:
The wondrous Haruka and Michiru do not belong to me, although every Tuesday they come over for pancakes and tea..yeah.
Authors notes:
Wow this story is in lead with love lore of the wind and sea! It is second place not that reviews matter so much to me as how it effects people, of course. But it is really helpful. Thanks for the reviews, Ill miss the attention! Guess that means I should write something new after this? Edit: Oy. I so haven't been inspired to write, I got into a major legend of Zelda thing cause Im making my girlfriend play it, and the new LOZ game is coming out in November. Plus word kept crashing so.. And I am a red head:newly dyed hair..gleamgleam: Not to mention work, college and stuff as like.
Lookie Neptunestears got's a message from a reader:
'Hey where are you? We, your loyal readers, are trying to patiently wait for the next chappie."
Heheh...GOMEN NASAI:bows: Sorry guys. I appreciate everyone but I cant write unless I'm inspired, but Ill try specially today ok? Maybe its because I haven't written myself cliff notes for this far and I'm scared lol. I don't know how to approach this now that I'm out of the shelter of Artists Alley. Its like the ending is as important as the beginning you know? Oh there goes the dogs.. Btw I've been dealing with computer viruses as well so o not to mention a visit to the doctor for an ear infection Don't worry, I've already started on the next chapter, I promise I wont make you wait as long!
To heal and surrender
Day melted slowly into night as she drove, so that by the time Haruka pulled into the once gravely driveway, the last rays of the sun were slipping behind the horizon. Although with the rain it seemed much darker. It had stopped for the most part, she had turned her wind shield wipers off about ten minutes ago, but in exchange the air was chilled from the misty soft rain. Damp earth squished into thick muck under her tires. Shifting the gear into park, she hoped the weather in the next day or two would be nicer, otherwise her car would be stuck when they had to leave. Sighing, the blonde flicked off the engine and leaned heavily on the steering wheel. As she sat there, a dull headache threatening, she noticed how the keys made a slow thunking noise as they hit the bottom of the dash; how the cooling engine made a clicking noise, like an unwinding clock. These sounds mingled with the distant crashing of the waves and the soft breathing of Michiru. In an instant it was like the essence of life, of living, of existence. A feeling Haruka hadn't felt in awhile, it seemed right. Then everything that night, came back to her, and her heart felt laden again. Somewhere to her left, lighting streaked the sky and made the world around her an eerie blue.
She felt tired. The drive home seemed less enjoyable when she knew there was a shivering girl in her back seat, and pelting rain that limited vision. Stretching, Haruka took off her seat belt and stepped out into the misty chill; her shoes made a squelching noise as she did so. What to do first? Should she unlock the door, get a blanket, or an umbrella for Michiru? No, that wouldn't work too well if Michiru couldn't hold the umbrella herself. Should she go in and light a fire and then bring in the girl? No, Haruka didn't want her waking up in some strange car at night and be completely scared to death. So, Haruka opened Michiru's door and took one of the old jackets she kept in there(more like forgot she had in there) and wrapped it around Michiru's small cold frame. Scooping her up again, she went as best as she could up the stairs, through the muck and the blinding mist. Remarkably, she did this without tripping, and fought to unlock the front door. At last, it swung open, the musty pent up air seemed to have returned just enough to make Haruka sneeze. And it all seeped out at once as if the house had been holding its breath, the muted mix of dust and sea breeze; a curious mix. No warm baked treats, or cooking meals, like so many times in her childhood when she would enter.
The house which had seemed dead, almost stirred now, the wind breathing new life into its walls, evoking new ghosts from the past. The wind stirred the wooden plated walls, releasing trapped noises and eras long ago. A laugh, a cough, a baby's wailing.
Haruka shivered at these, taking off her shoes quickly, careful to avoid the mud and laid Michiru on the sofa. Like a fussing mother, she closed the window nearest her and started searching the house for some paper, and even went down into the basement, risking the spiders once more, for some kindling. Gradually the blond made a small fire in the hearth trying to remember everything her father had told her so many years ago. She adjusted the flue so that the curling smoke went upwards, praying that it had been cleaned recently; A house fire was the last thing she needed. She imagined herself, drifting away on a piece of the house, out into the horizon, no one knowing her, no one caring. Somehow that seemed attractive just then.
But the chimney had apparently been cleaned, and the cheery fire made the room seem almost pleasant with warmth and orange glow. It graded against Haruka's determined gloom like sandpaper. Michiru stirred, whimpering a bit, and her eyes opened briefly.
"Tenou...kun?.." She asked softly, hesitant, and unsure. A bit because Haruka's words from before still left a stinging mark where they fell and a bit because she wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. Haruka took it as confusion from her sickness, perhaps it was partly that too.
"Hai..just wait a moment, and I'll go find dry clothes."
"Don't leave me.." Michiru's teal eyes were locked onto Haruka, and she seemed to be having a feverish moment. She looked around, as if trying to get her baring.
"Where are my parents?.. I want to go home." It nearly broke Haruka's heart. She almost shyly touched Michiru's face to comfort her, but then her hand cradled her forehead, shocked at how hot she felt. It worried her.
"Don't worry, Michiru, I wont leave you alone.."
What was first, medicine? Clothes? Food? Keeping her vow, Haruka picked Michiru up again and took her upstairs. Nudging the door in the center open with her socked foot, she went to the only place she knew of to find woman's clothes, if any, in her parents room. Laying Michiru on the flower patterned coverlet, Haruka opened the drawers and the closet searching for warm clothes and produced a soft blouse, cable knit sweater and warm corduroy pants. She looked at Michiru, realizing something; She'd have to undress her. Michiru shivered, and coughed in the meantime, her breathing caught somewhere between dosing and awake.
"Kaiousan..you're soaking wet, do you have enough energy to put these on?" Michiru struggled to sit up, her forehead burning, and yet she was shivering. She fought with her soaked shirt. The material got twisted and she soon fell back with a sigh, and weak cough again.
"Gomen..Nasai.." She muttered, tears streaking her face, for this must be terribly embarrassing, Haruka gathered. Not only that but its scary to be sick in a strange place, so far from home and vulnerable.
"Shh.. Its okay.. If anyone should be saying sorry, its me. But right now, you need to get warm.." Haruka laid the clothes on the bed, and rolled up her own soaked sleeves as they clung to her forearm, making her feel sloth like in restricted movement. Honestly though, she was procrastinating.
"So then, I guess we could do this together, ne?" Haruka said, almost blushing but hiding it well. Michiru closed her eyes and nodded, however, if by fever or modesty a slight blush did color her cheeks. Haruka's face felt just as hot, thinking how sweet the blush was, and how she would have to summon every ounce of self control she had for this, for both of them. Not that she'd ever do anything against Michiru's assent, but it didn't keep her mind from wandering. She sat beside Michiru, her knee holding her up as she changed her clothes gym room style. By pulling her arms inside the shirt first, putting the new one on, and pulling the old one off through the top hole, and easing her arms out again. Haruka also tugged on the warm cashmere sweater over her head and arms. It was lucky her mother had kept such clothes here, since they mostly always stayed in the summer months back then. There was a flash of lightening making the old fashioned ceiling light flicker.
Haruka laid Michiru down again, her hair crumpled under and around her shoulders in wet ringlets. Her hands touched and lingered on Michiru's jeans, and suddenly she felt as naughty as a high school boy. In the distance, Thunder boomed and rumbled its verse in reply to the lightening. It droned on like the voice of an old scholar or teacher, with a deep grumbling that made Haruka somehow remember her tenth grade history class and Morgan's sweet sixteen smile. A knot formed somewhere in her stomach and pulled in response. Like a wave of cool water, emotions made Haruka began to drown in her consciousness. It made her thoughts churn. They passed through, connected, like a train on its track; One boxcar after another trailing.
The teal haired woman, seemingly forgotten, stirred a bit uncomfortable with the hot teasing touch of Haruka's idle hand and coughed hoping to wake her from the spell she was trapped in. Like a grasping hand, it tugged Haruka out of these waves of emotion, her back to the surface; snapping her back to the present. She realized horrified, that her hand had been on Michiru san's taunt lower tummy.
"K..Kaiousan..Gomen nasai.." She couldn't breathe. It felt like a million degrees in there.
"It's alright... I'm so.. cold." Michiru protested, her pause flying. She wished she was coherent enough to enjoy this. Although if she had been, she probably wouldn't't have had this opportunity. Or whatever it should be called.
Haruka didn't hesitate any longer, she was being selfish enough already. It was her fault Michiru-san had been in this mess in the first place, her fault that she blew earlier out of proportion. Biting her lip a bit, she deftly and quickly unbuttoned and pealed off the soaked pants; down smooth legs and over delicate bare feet, pausing only once for the shoes and socks. Haruka, trembling a bit herself now, worked with numbing fingers. Finally she slid new pants on, hoping that the material would bring warmth into the chilled skin. A bead of sweat lingered on her brow, as she finally slid two layers of warm socks over Michiru's feet, which bunched at the ankles.
She tried not to notice how Michiru's tummy contracted as Haruka's fingertips brushed it trying to unbutton her jeans, or how round and perfect her belly button was; like a jewel. Or the sheen of Michiru's light blue panties or creamy skin like French vanilla.. She was always the gentleman, but this tested her limits. She used concentration and determination to be as saintly as possible, after all they hardly new each other..in person anyway.
Pleased with herself, Haruka looked up to check her patient. A pair of glittering teal eyes greeted her, watching her, half closed like a cat just woken from dosing, or waiting to pounce. It seemed as though to Haruka, that she had been watching all along for reactions to her body. As soon as she caught her eye to say something in response, they fluttered closed again, the glance excused by weakening sickness, an innocence on her part for now. Haruka felt her mouth twitch into a small smile, Michiru's eyes watching her like that, had warmed her like a shifting ray of sunlight through tree tops, and eased over her like the sweet thickness of honey. Part of her clung to this little shred of emotion, hungry for affection, for the sweet exchange of mutual interest and possible desire. It began a small fire of its own, deep in her belly, even lower. The sweet smoke threatened to cloud Haruka's common sense, her judgment. The warmth made her skin begin to feel agitated, an itch she couldn't scratch, her pulse race a bit. She fought with the flame, struggling to snuff it out, or to nurture it; So tiny but so very dangerous. She couldn't let it control her, not now. And yet, she wanted it..needed it again. Love was the best weapon, and the best balm for wounds. Part of her wanted to toss it away, scold herself, curse her situation. For now she decided to savor it, deciding to pass this feeling on as mere hope that this small glimmer of flirting was a sign that perhaps Michiru wasn't as bad off as Haruka anticipated.
'At least she seems to be feeling a little better', the blonde concluded, the shivering had stopped. Haruka went around the corner into the room's bathroom and retrieved a towel, remarkably fluffy for its age, and used it on Michiru's hair, making it go from limp ringlets, to plush waves in seconds. She tried not to notice, however, how her hair was like liquid silk in her fingers.
"Now then, you're going to lay by the fire, while I fret over you like a nursemaid, okay?" She tried to smile, hoping it wasn't more serious then she thought. Michiru only snuggled closer in response, quite comfortable in her role as patient, as Haruka re-scooped her, the wet clothes forgotten for now, still on the floor.
The fire was burning merrily when they returned to the room. Haruka eased Michiru back against the sofa, fighting the temptation to pile blankets over her form. She read once how it would worsen fevers, and was conflicted because clearly Michiru needed warmth and yet if she were feverish, could not take it. She decided to put the layers on her long enough to warm her, and then she'd remove them. She tried to remember how Morgan took care of her when she was sick. Hopefully for now, Michiru's exposure was long enough to chill the fever, but in the meantime, Haruka searched the closet for medicine. Most of it was outdated but there was an almost new bottle of Tylenol left over from Morgan fussing about one ailment or another, and Haruka retrieved it. Pacing into the kitchen, she scanned the bottle for directions and went to reach for a glass. For all the housekeepers cleaning, the dishes were neglected, because there was no point in cleaning dishes for no one to eat from them. She scowled as she pulled down a dusty glass. Shed have to run the dish washer, and hoped to god it still worked. It was, 'new age' and 'high tech' for its time, now it looked and was antique. For now though, Haruka awkwardly located the soap, and a cloth, washing the glass till it was beyond her criteria for clean. After all, a bachelor's criteria isn't all that high to begin with. She wished she had ginger ale, but thanked her soda addiction for once because she had bought some sort of lemony lime soda that would work almost as well. She poured it into the glass and went beside Michiru again. There it was, that domesticated feeling again.
"Here, take this, it'll help." As the girl weakly obeyed, Haruka left her to drink only enough to get the pill down, and not a lot more at once until she was sure she could hold things down. At least that's what she remembered from when she was sick as a child.
"Could you eat something?..Michiru?" But the girl was already dozing again. Haruka stood there feeling lost and almost helpless, adrenaline slowly draining from her body as the moment of action passed for now. She wondered if this is how a mother felt, caught up in the moment, in their child's life, and then suddenly void of action, void of being needed.
Sliding herself into the fireside arm chair, a memory hit her like a poised arrow released. She ran her hands over the worn material, remembering how shed sit in her grandfather's lap as he told her stories. Her mother's voice in the kitchen minding her to wash her hands before dinner. Her father's laugh as he chatted with her uncle, her cousins laying on the floor amid scattered wax crayons which began to become soft and useless so close to the heat of the hearth. How her aunt swept in and would on occasion pull them back to a safer distance as though they were at home and up close against the television set.
These memories also must be part of the ghosts Morgan spoke of. Haruka tried to brush them away, but it clung to her like a spider's web, invisible to whoever was careless in their step, so thin you cannot grasp it, and yet so strong, it was near indestructible. Tears pricked her eyes. She was so busy, caught up in her growing career, when her grandfather had died. She was across country, snatching bits of information and news about his condition through the telephone. Her only possible response was a message telling him, if he remembered her, that she loved him which was left for her father to give.
She looked over at Michiru wondering if she too had such memories, if she was old enough to have her own ghosts. If she was mature enough to realize the power of her choices for others, the tug of war guilt of it, of your own happiness and the responsibility to others for theirs. How youth is only a brief paper thin shield to the world. She wondered if she knew yet the dawning realization, somewhere between the immortality of a child in view of their self, and the actuality of mortality in adulthood. Believing once that time will not touch you, that life cannot touch you, that everything precious and dear will last forever. And then someone close to you, perhaps someone older, or more shocking, someone younger, passes away. You begin to count your blessings, you start to cherish those close to you, and linger on the sadness of those away from you. She wondered if Michiru had known these things yet, if she could've still left if she had. From what she overheard from the boys in the café, Michiru was a long way from home; leaving all she loved behind.
The girl in question rolled on to her side, her face in sleep peaceful one moment, and then knitted the next as she dreamed.
'So..' Haruka continued the thought in her mind, as if chatting with someone, a passerby, a stranger on a park bench not really listening or comprehending and Haruka not caring either way, just passing time, just pitching out life's questions. Like pieces of sandwich crusts to park birds. '..if Michiru had known..'
Was she was at peace with it? Could one ever be at peace in those situations? If so, Haruka envied her for it. She blinked realizing she herself did the same thing when she was younger, only she had no physical excuse to keep her distance, as oceans and mountains did not separate her from her loved ones; Her preference in women did. Sure, it was not spoken out loud, like a death forgotten, forbidden. It wasn't an official reason, but she felt it. She felt the tension at her cousins wedding after she came out, tightly gripping Morgan's hand. Her mother's eyes boring into her, tearful, resentful, an angry sadness that it wasn't Haruka up there in that dress. That it never would be. Not joy, that Haruka might finally be able to find herself, not gladness for her daughters health, her life before her like unpainted canvas. It was and always will be over cast, demented, crippled. It changed her parents, not soon after that there was the talk of divorce, the fight over the piano that Haruka had recalled only weeks ago; it seemed like years.
It was sad that such a technical thing could be greater then mountain tops, or ocean shores.
Deep in thought now, Haruka watched without seeing, a small tendril of hair slip down Michiru's cheek, slow like a tear. She wondered if this girl had the same cross to bare, if this was the reason she could cross hundreds of miles; seeking refuge, seeking herself, or seeking the illusions of both.
When Haruka was young she thought time would freeze for her, or more like she knew it had. Life's worries did not touch her. She was young and attractive, witty and smart. She knew the world, her world, inside and out. Being a senior in high school, on top of the world, riding high on scholarships and her arm looped with the prettiest girl in school. She was unaware of a bigger world, a scarier one, without thinking about it. They always told her she was an adult then, and with it came a lap full of things people older expected of her; But the worries adults cautioned to her, did not apply. She was young, untouched, life couldn't stop her, speed couldn't stop her, the laws of nature couldn't stop her. She was different, born different, embraced it. Haruka reasoned how everyone thinks once you leave high school, you're an adult, capable and ready. But the real learning, the real maturity comes much later, after school. When all you can afford is rent, some groceries, some new shoes, if you were really pushing it. Adulthood for her didn't come till she was in her mid-twenties, a few years ago. She wondered how many others there were like her, and was this young girl one of them; A butterfly trapped still in its shell, premature and yet trying to fly. Haruka leaned her arms on her elbows, still deep in thought, but beginning to shift now. Her bodies needs beginning to demand, since the tension had long since past. She watched the last dying rays of the setting sun kiss Michiru's cheeks, and then silvery shadows ease in through the closed window as the moon raised patient with its long waited return.
She seemed so young and yet Haruka felt like an equal with her, or perhaps a little behind her. Michiru seemed so solemn and wise for her age, Haruka guessed she had to be about seventeen at least. Or so she hoped.
No. She shouldn't think that way. Haruka blinked out of her thoughtful state, shaking her head. Such nonsense. And like a carousal, her thoughts began to turn full circle. Haruka wasn't really old fashioned in her beliefs, obviously, but there was quite a bit of age difference between them. Standing, Haruka felt the creeping heat of embarrassment slide over her body, even though she realized only then she too, was cold and soaked through. She rubbed her eyes with her hand, a gesture that was her fathers. She fed one last little log to the fire, and cracked the window delaying her departure as if Michiru might wake and need something. Finally, after locking the door, she turned once more feeling a lightness as she glanced back. Haruka turned on a small table lamp as she left to go upstairs so Michiru could see if she had to. She decided that a shower and some sleep did not sound half bad, even though she doubted that the later would happen when the time came. It took months for her to get used to Morgan being in the house, before she could sleep soundly. Not to mention this was a strange house to her now. But, she knew there was a lot of explaining, and apologizing to do, and Haruka didn't want to screw it up when the time came, or be irritable from lack of sleep. It was already quarter till ten.
Haruka slowly undid the dress shirt buttons, her fingers despite being numb and cold flew over them expertly. She did a shrugging motion and it came down off her shoulders, before tugging and pealing off the rest of her wet clothes, tossing them in the pile next to Michiru's. The contrast was apparent as she looked to them, thrown together haphazardly. She smiled a little sadly, eventually having to scoop Michiru's up, letting them hang on the drawer knobs until the morning when she could summon the energy to dry them. But for now she couldn't stand them on the floor like that, mixed with her own. It made her remember, and it made her long for things she couldn't have. Getting her bath stuff out of her travel case, Haruka went into the small master bath (small in comparison to her city flat's bathroom) appreciating the simplicity of the Victorian style in which it had been designed. The hinting of brass and marble, mixed with the light ocean grays and blues of her mothers taste. Haruka peeked into the shower hoping it was clean and to her relief it was spotless, save an unsuspecting cricket by the drain and a nesting spider. She assembled her little army of travel sized shampoos, conditioners, body washes and gels of the sort along the crème colored porcelain walls. She got junk like this constantly when she toured. She never used to be so involved with bathing, but when she lived with Morgan it became a habit, or else her side of the bed would be mighty lonely. Besides it was free and between her sponsors and the hotels she wouldn't have to buy bath stuff for a long while. And who would really find the mix of motor oil and cologne attractive anyway? (Michiru sneezes down stairs and resettles) Haruka assembled her toothbrush, her toothpaste, a comb and her deodorant, liking the feel of being in a new place, her own space for once since Morgan left. She took a look around before flipping on the water. The pipes groaned from lack of use, and made a weird clicking noise, but soon jets of warm water shot out and collected trickling down the shower doors and walls. The spider and the cricket booted out of their place, soon swept down the drain forgotten, the space dominated by man again.
This wasn't the bathroom she remembered as a child, for this connected out to a smaller door she hadn't noticed in the hallway, but was once another smaller bathroom. Her parents had made the two bathrooms into one since the children were grown, and they replaced the wooden paneling for eggshell white paint and peach marble, the color of sand. Haruka noticed it was bigger but didn't realize the door here wasn't just a closet which kept the spare towels and she didn't bother to look for those yet, since she would probably just change in the room. Usually she would go commando but she didn't feel given the circumstances that it was appropriate. She glanced at herself in the mirror, it was already getting foggy and the glass was misted, unclear like the haze of a dream. Despite this though, her skin was bristled lightly with goose bumps, longing for the hot water. She hoped Michiru wouldn't't mind if she waited till morning to wash her clothes for her. She felt too tired to do it that night, and didn't think she could familiarize herself with the basement in the dark to find the washer machine or the soap for that matter.
Haruka closed the bathroom door and stepped into the shower, wincing as the temperature was near scalding. She fumbled with the handles till the water was tolerable before relaxing. The streams poured over her skin as she leaned with her palms against the porcelain, her back curved slightly. She tipped her head back, the water combing through her short hair, plastering it against her head. She felt as though the water was washing away all of the grime, sweat and emotions of that day, renewing her.
She glanced out the window, and the shoreline far below churned, her only neighbor on that side of the house. The sky was dreamy. White clouds passed by the moon making the world outside shift in hues of silver and blue. Or maybe she mistook some of the clouds for steam from the shower, it was hard to tell. Haruka reached for her body wash and her loofa feeling suddenly subconscious.
These were things she learned from Morgan, but now in the presence of Michiru, she wondered how it would seem. It was funny how love freed you and imprisoned you at the same time. Haruka shrugged a little and used more soap then necessary liking the foamy lather and how it slid over her muscles, through her fingers; the masculine scent of the 'arctic falls' men's body wash laced its way through the steam as she lavished her neglected body.
Secretly, she told herself that despite being tired, she took such care because she deserved it, and not because she wanted to be presentable for Michiru when the time came. Next was shampoo and Haruka worked it through her short blonde hair, the soap creeping down her neck and back as her agile fingers played along her scalp like piano keys. She rinsed and neglected the repeat direction for tonight, skipping to conditioner. Finally, she felt satisfied and groped for the faucet handles, streams of water making her neglectful to open her eyes.
Michiru stirred, opening her eyes with a start. Everything was a blur and shadows stretched across the strange walls like monsters. She did a self check consciously checking herself over. Her clothes were intact, her fever was gone, her nose still remained a bit stuffy but it might be allergies from the dust. Although she felt sore, and was in a strange place, she felt better somehow sick wise. She sat up, the blanket was wrapped and twisted around her from tossing and turning. She tried to free herself, her heart beating wildly, the couch was so worn over the years that she sunk into it, finding it hard to get up. Finally the blanket slid to her feet. She stood there hugging herself, although she felt so warm from the sweater. She whipped around making sure she was alone, tendrils of hair clung to her cheeks from sweat. Since she was indeed alone, Michiru allowed herself to relax a little since the shadows held no surprises. Walking over to a window she looked out. Wisps of sea breeze still managed to sneak in through the bottom of the cracked panes. This seemed like a bad dream, and she wasn't sure what had been real or not, or where in the world she was, although the scent of the air seemed familiar. She let her mind go on auto pilot, her head hurt too much to think right then, and just took in what she saw. A sparkling sea shore just peaked out over the sand dunes outside, and a unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway. She touched the glass, her breath making the window fog as she could barely just make out the license plate of the fancy sports car. "TENOU127"
"Tenou..kun.." Suddenly she remembered, looking down at her clothing, looking over at the dying fire, her cheeks flushed. How bold they both had been, but she supposed it couldn' t have been helped. So where was she now? Michiru's eyes scanned the room, adjusted enough so that she didn't have to move her way around anymore by feel. She stood in front of the mantle, old photographs greeted her, offering to fill in the missing pieces. She reached for one, her hand brushing a spiders web. She ignored the creepy crawly sensation as it brushed her fingers, her curiosity being more then her fear as she held the picture. A young girl with shoulder length blonde hair, in a girl school uniform, glanced back at her with a make shift smile. Smoldering jade eyes touched her most, reminding her of a pacing agitated tiger, wanting free. Michiru replaced the picture and took down another. A much happier Haruka now, hair cropped short in a track uniform her arms wrapped around a young girl with long red hair and a bright smile. Michiru felt something like a bubbling sensation within her, a warm raging fire, as she looked at the girl and then Haruka's eyes. She had never seen that smile adorn Haruka's face, and wished it could have been her who made her so happy. She replaced the picture and avoided the overwhelming sensation to leave it face down. Finally her eyes settled on a painted portrait above the mantle. A handsome married couple looked down at her, obviously loaded, and a little girl stood at their feet a smudge of dirt on her cheek and her dress. Michiru smiled a little.
Her little mystery solved, Michiru then allowed her mind to progress pass fear, and realize in all her distraction why she had woken at all. Bathroom. Where was the bathroom? She walked, the hallway light like a beacon. She smiled a little realizing Haruka must have left it on for her. Well, it was almost ten thirty, by now Haruka must be sleeping, for the house was quiet save the noises old houses make and Michiru didn't want to disturb her. Shed just have to find the bathroom herself.
The huge house at nighttime was eerie, and the floor boards creaked under her weight. The surf outside, mixed with the wind, sounded like howling and she wondered how anyone could sleep upstairs at all. Along the way she tugged off her sweater, feeling a bit better. She hung in on a doorknob, vowing to pick it up on the way back down. Standing in the hallway, three doors greeted her. One was on the left, and she peered into it, seeing a room with an unoccupied bed. The one in the middle was shut, and she guessed that's where Haruka was sleeping. The room on the right, she guessed was Haruka's old childhood room. She felt like a spy looking at such intimate and personal details of her childhood and adolescence but she couldn't help a small look inside. Her heart beat was fast and light, as if she were ready to turn and run at any moment. Although if she were caught wandering the halls, she had a legitimate reason. And boy was it making its self obvious. Michiru frowned a bit looking for more stairs or another door wondering where the bathroom was. Surely there was a bathroom? Her hand tightened on the knob that her sweater hung on and she realized. Ah, this must be the door, although it was the size of a closet door. Michiru carefully opened it and stood there puzzled. How weird. There were towels and bathroom supplies on shelves on either side, and in front of her was an outline of another door. She could barely make it out, but she heard the unmistakable drip of a stubborn sink faucet and at that point really needed to go. So she walked in and reached out gripping the door handle, and with a small push she opened the door. She barely had time to register the escaping of steam, or the scent of masculine bath supplies until it was too late.
With a bump to the bare butt, Haruka yelled startled and jumped back, looking to a very surprised and wide eyed Michiru.
(Finally! I was so sick of looking at this chapter.. now I can finally move on with what I did have planned XD Aren't I cruel leaving it here? It seemed like a good cliff hanger. Stay tuned, next chapter coming soon!)