Part 2 – The Tenoh Family
"Haruka-papa!"
"Princess, welcome—oh, you brought Chibiusa home with you?" There her daughter Hotaru stood in the doorway, running her bony fingers through her straight locks, still in her school uniform, with her good friend standing at her side. Chibiusa, the future pink haired daughter of their Princess, stood at her Hotaru's side, a wide goofy grin on her lips. Haruka was always relatively surprised that Hotaru and Chibiusa were such good friends. They looked so greatly different. Hotaru was frail with relatively ordinary looking hair, while Chibiusa was a bit on the stocky side, maybe pudgy, with two extremely large, in your face crescent moon shaped buns that almost qualified as oddly shaped pigtails. Hotaru was withdrawn in school, but Chibiusa was more confident, outgoing. Perhaps the two completed one another.
Just like Haruka and Michiru completed each other.
"Wait a second, Hotaru, Chibiusa doesn't go to your school," Haruka said, confused, "How did she—"
"Haruka!"
Haruka glanced up over the heads of the two children to see her Princess and future Queen, the Soldier of the Moon, Sailor Moon, dressed up in her civilian identity as Usagi Tsukino. She had that signature goofy grin on her lips as she waved childishly at Haruka. She couldn't help but smirk in amusement. "Ah, buns-head. Should've known."
Usagi took a few steps forward, only to step on one of her obnoxiously long ponytails. She cried out in pain before stumbling to the floor, hitting her head against the concrete. Chibiusa shook her head in disbelief and embarrassment as Haruka took a few cautious steps forward. However, before she could reach Usagi, their future Queen had risen to her feet, tears in her eyes, a big red mark covering her forehead. "It hurts! Ow! It really, really hurt! Waaaahhhhhh…"
"Stupid Usagi," Chibiusa muttered under her breath.
"Usagi, why don't you just come in side for a bit?" Haruka asked, cautiously.
"But—but—"
"I'll be able to treat your injury better that way," Haruka replied, mildly.
"I guess so. Sniff."
Haruka took Usagi by the hand, a small grin on her lips. Michiru constantly informed Haruka that she was a complete flirt. It wasn't uncommon for her to play a little game with people, much like she had with Michiru's parents: she'd pretend to be a boy to get girls hopeful about maybe having the chance to date her or court her, only to reveal that she was, in fact, a girl with a beautiful girlfriend already. Michiru had said she was quite the trickster, and even went along with some of Haruka's schemes for Haruka's sake. Naturally, she had already done this with Usagi and her friend Minako, the Soldier of Love, Sailor Venus, so she had no need to play this game with Usagi. Still, holding Usagi's hand in her own, it reminded her of the times she had flirted with little buns-head.
"Setsuna!" Haruka called out, "We've got an invalid here."
Setsuna, who had been deep in self-actualizing meditation in her study, or, judging by the blaring sounds of the TV, watching Pokemon, emerged with her ordinary calm expression, noting the presence of the newcomers for the first time. "Small Lady!" Setsuna lowered to a single knee for a moment in the presence of Chibiusa, then rose to her feet to approach the young girl.
"Plu, you don't need to bow every time you see me," Chibiusa said, a smile on her lips and blush in her soft cheeks.
"Waaaahhhhh…"
"Oh, Usagi," Setsuna stammered, noting the future Queen for what seemed like the first time, "Your injuries! Right this way, come with me to the bathroom." Setsuna took Chibiusa's future mother, now but a 16-year-old girl, by the arm as she guided her to the bathroom, where she kept much of her medical supplies. Haruka, however, glanced over at her daughter and her good friend.
The two of them were so happy together. Such a strong bond between them, a bond probably stronger than friendship. She wondered, for a moment, if living with Haruka really was good for Hotaru. She doubted her little girl even understood the concept of lesbianism, but even more so she wondered if Hotaru was even a lesbian at all. Was she learning by example, perhaps, and already letting small signs show of her true feelings? Maybe Haruka was just overanalyzing everything. Yeah, that was probably it. Hotaru was eight-years-old, and so was Chibiusa. It wasn't like they were about to tie the knot or anything like that.
But what would Haruka do if Hotaru really was a lesbian?
What would her parents say about Haruka and Michiru?
What would they say about Haruka losing her virginity?
What would they say about all the things she's done?
As the girls played, Haruka fingered through a photo album she had found deep in the storage closets of her house. She glanced at picture after picture of a little sandy haired girl, probably no more than three or four, playing with dolls, having tea parties for her stuff animals, buying her first pink bicycle with long streamers, dressed in a rather pretty kimono, a pretty white dress with frills, running her first track meet with pink sneakers, buying her first mountain bike, wearing dark jeans for the first time in her twelve years of life, smiling happily, unaware that she would grow up to be a girl who'd have sex with a blue haired girl.
She didn't learn she was a lesbian really until she met Michiru, but even then had no interest in boys. She hated how her parents had forced feminine crap down her throat, forced her to wear frilly bows and dresses and play with dolls. They only became a little lenient when she rationalized with them that track was to keep her in shape, that biking would help with track, and that driving a car at the age of 15 was a good idea for the sake of mobility. She hadn't seen her parents in months, and last time they had parted on good terms, although her father felt she didn't look feminine enough wearing a denim jacket with black jeans.
He'd prefer to see her in a skirt.
Haruka glanced at the phone at her side. She wondered just what they'd say. What would they say about Michiru? Was she going to be welcomed? Was she going to be damned? What would happen to Haruka? Would they even let her explain herself? How would they react if they found out about all the things she did with Michiru? What would her idiot father say? She thought her mother might accept her, but her father so wanted to make Haruka his "precious little angel." It was suffocating her. That's why she hadn't seen them in months! She was suffocated! Strangulated! And now here she was, returning to the chains of oppression.
She punched numbers into her phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey, mom? It's me, Haruka."
"Haruka! About time you called! It's been months since last time!"
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Things have just been so hectic lately."
"I can imagine. I heard about that last race you were in. We need to catch up on everything. When can you come down?"
"Well, it's funny you mentioned coming down, because I wanted to talk to you about something in person."
"Haruka, what's wrong? You sound really upset."
"I'm fine, it's nothing. I just need to talk to you about something is all."
"Okay, Haruka. I understand. When can you come down?"
"I think next week. Hey, mom, is dad going to be home next week? I mean, is he away on business?"
"No, he's not going anywhere for awhile. He's got such good hours, you know. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason. I'll, uh, I'll talk to you next Monday, is that okay?"
"Monday's fine."
"Thanks a lot, mom."
"Don't mention it, Princess."
Haruka didn't deserve to be called a Princess.
#
A smile spread across Hotaru's face as Haruka pulled the car into park. She had never been in Osaka before, and, although for Haruka this wasn't all that big of a deal, the sights and sounds were all new and fresh for the little Soldier of Destruction. She stared wide-eyed at people talking in a dialect she had never heard before. To say the least, she was in awe, even though, as Haruka noted, this city wasn't really all too different from the one they had just left behind.
Except, of course, for the inclusion of her parents.
"Haruka, are you alright?" Michiru asked, her hand on top of Hauka's as it rested on the steering wheel, her hands white and clammy.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it," Haruka replied, opening the door as she got out, gesturing for the other three to do the same. Michiru gazed up at Haruka, nervously, before exiting the car, her eyes still on her sandy haired lover. Her Sea Goddess stood there before Haruka, dressed in a beautiful dress once again, maybe the same dress she had worn to see her own parents.
"It's just I'm worried about you, Haruka," Michiru replied.
"So am I," Setsuna said, "And your attire isn't easing any of my concerns."
"What's wrong with my clothes?"
"Haruka-papa, it's pink. And you're wearing a—a skirt."
This was very true. Blushing deep red, she glanced down at her pink cardigan, which she wore over a white blouse. She was also, as Hotaru observed, wearing the only skirt she had in her possession that fit her, a denim pair that went down to just above her knees. In the eyes of the others, it must look like she was a cross-dresser or something. She wore masculine attire so frequently that surely she looked like a guy dressing up like a girl for a change.
So embarrassing.
"Don't worry about that," Haruka replied.
"Haruka, you're starting to scare me a little," Michiru replied, "Put on pants, or a denim jacket, or at least take the pink off. Even when you're Uranus you don't wear pink."
Haruka sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Guys, just calm down about that. Don't worry. I know exactly what I am doing."
Haruka's house was nothing like Michiru's mansion. It wasn't huge, wasn't fancy, and certainly wasn't beautiful. It was just an ordinary house, not run down, but not stunning, either. There was nothing remarkable about it with its two levels, pointed roof, pale blue siding, and oak door. It was nothing remarkable at all, so why was Haruka trembling so?
Haruka nervously approached the door, and rang the bell, holding her arm anxiously, stroking her shoulder with her fingers gently, as she heard footsteps on the other side of the doorway. She waited, Michiru at her side, her daughter and Setsuna behind her, as her mother opened the door. Haruka's mom had long sandy hair that extended to her hips, a slender woman, almost frail. She pushed her wire framed glasses up her nose as she glanced at Haruka, a smile on her face. "Haruka!" her mother cheered, pulling Haruka into a warm, affectionate hug before releasing her, taking a look at the daughter she hadn't seen in so long.
"Yeah, I'm home," Haruka replied, nervously.
"You've cut your hair again," Mrs. Tenoh observed, running a hand through her daughter's hair, "Your dad always wanted you to grow your hair out, but I always thought you looked—"
"Haruka?"
Haruka glanced over her mother's shoulder to see another sandy haired girl slowly approach them. She too was wearing glasses, though these were thick framed and looked cute on her sweet face. She was wearing a beautiful little dress for the occasion, nothing spectacular, but humble enough to make her look quite beautiful. "Hey there, Fujiko."
Fujiko, her sister, approached Haruka with a small smile. "I haven't seen you in so long!" She dove toward her sister, planting her cheeks against her breasts, holding her close and tight. Haruka nervously patted her head, her brow sweaty.
"Oh, and you must be Haruka's friends, I take it?" Mrs. Tenoh asked the rest of the group, in a tone of minor confusion.
"Uh, sort of," Michiru replied for the group, smiling.
"Sort of?"
"Mom, can I talk with you in the other room with dad?" Haruka stammered. There was no point in dancing around the point any longer. She had to do this, had to go through the final threshold to her eventual fate. If she didn't get this stress off her chest now, she'd never go through with this. She'd never be able to confess to her parents, lay out the terms she wished to live her life, and would be afraid of her parents has her life went on and she fell in love with Michiru.
"Oh, of course," Mrs. Tenoh replied, nodding, "I'll just get—"
"Haruka?"
Haruka glanced up at the sound of her voice yet again. There, standing in the doorway to the living room, was her father, his masculine frame concealed in jeans and a t-shirt. He stared at his daughter, smiling brightly as he approached, puling her into a deep embrace, holding her tightly. Haruka, being the girl that she was, squeezed just as tightly and firmly. Her father's squeeze was clearly an affectionate one. Haruka just wanted to crush the guy in two.
"Haruka, my sweet little girl, you've grown," her father said, smiling brightly.
"Yeah, I guess," Haruka replied, missing his gaze.
"You've gained a lot of muscle. I saw one of your races recently on the TV. Those years of track really paid off."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Have you been keeping up with piano lessons, though?" her father asked.
"You play piano?" Hotaru asked, mildly surprised.
"Don't you remember that duet Ruka and I did a few weeks back?" Michiru asked, "Me on the violin and her on the piano?"
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that," Hotaru stammered, nodding her head.
"Oh, who're you three?" Mr. Tenoh asked, curiously pointing at the three people behind Haruka.
"Dad, listen, can I talk with you guys for a moment alone? With Michiru?" Haruka asked, anxiously.
"What's wrong, angel?"
"Look, please, can I just talk to you guys in private? I'll explain then." Haruka gazed up at her father desperately. She needed to say this. She needed to get this damn cancer out of her before it swallowed her up in death and disease. "Please."
"Hey, look, Kyo, Haruka looks really upset," Mrs. Tenoh replied, anxiously.
"Yeah, I can see that," Haruka's father replied, anxiously, "Come into the parlor. Fujiko, you go in the kitchen and get our guests something to eat, alright?"
"I'll help you with that," Hotaru replied, smiling, "Haruka-papa, good luck."
Haruka wanted to strangle her daughter in that one instant. That one slip of the tongue, that one honorific added to her name: Haruka-papa. Why did she say that? Why had she said that one stupid little honorific? Why? She glanced up at her father, whose face had turned a shade of white. What was he thinking? Clearly the girl wasn't her own genetic daughter, so what could he be thinking?
"Come along, Hotaru," Setsuna replied, carting the little girl into the kitchen with Fujiko, who was just as confused looking as her father and mother were.
The four of them went into Haruka's parlor, which looked just as familiar as it ever had. The furniture was organized around the television, the decorations of angels still filled glass cabinets, and Haruka's trophies collected dust on a shelf. Haruka and Michiru sat on a sofa 90 degrees away from the sofa her parents sat at. The two groups stared at one another before Mrs. Tenoh finally asked, curiously, "That girl, Hotaru was it? Is she your daughter?"
Haruka considered the question. She ran her fingers between strands of hair before she said, anxiously, "Adopted."
"You adopted her?" Mrs. Tenoh asked, surprised, "Why did you do that?"
"She needed us," Haruka replied, "And I'm not raising her alone. Michiru and Setsuna are raising her with me. We're all her parents in a sense."
"How do you expect to raise a child at all? Do you have enough money?" her father asked, stunned that his daughter would help a girl in need like that.
"I'm actually a very successful musician," Michiru replied, humbly, "I've been in a bunch of concerts and everything. I have more than enough money to support Hotaru."
"What about raising her? What do you know about raising a child?" Mrs. Tenoh asked, stunned.
"I don't. I honestly don't know the first thing about raising a child," Haruka stammered, finding herself more nervous than she had ever been in her entire life. Why was she nervous? She had fought armies, slaughtered her own comrades, but never before had she trembled so violently. It was her parents, wasn't it? She was terrified of what they must be thinking of her right now, wasn't she? She was terrified they'd reject her, abandon her. Despite how she had avoided them, badmouthed them in her mind, the truth was that she loved them. She loved her family, she loved Fujiko, she loved them all. She didn't want to lose them over something like this! She couldn't lose them!
"Haruka, what's wrong?" Mrs. Tenoh stammered, in shock.
"What?"
"You're crying," Michiru replied, brushing aside the tear on her cheek with her thumb, "You never cry, Haruka."
"She's a girl. She can cry if she wants to," Mr. Tenoh retorted, "Who're you to say my daughter can or can't cry?"
"I'm—"
Haruka silenced her with a gesture of her hand. "Michiru, let me handle this. Please, let me handle this."
"Okay, Haruka," Michiru replied, gently.
Her father sighed, shaking her head. "Haruka, what you did is extremely stupid. You should let a young couple raise the girl, someone who can't have a child. You know that, Haruka. Look, Princess, you're going to get rid of this girl, give her to a family that can truly love her, and—"
"I can't do that, dad," Haruka replied, frowning, "I just can't do that."
"Why's that?" Mr. Tenoh asked, skeptically.
"Because I love her. I love my daughter, and there's nothing anyone can say that can make me abandon her. She's just, well, I've never felt more connected to a kid before. I haven't. I mean, I've done stupid things before, but there's nothing stupid about adopting Hotaru. It's one of the best things I've ever done. I'm happier, and Michiru's happier, and Setsuna is like a new person. I know I'm going to make a few mistakes, but I'll learn. Michiru makes more than enough money to raise all four of us with lots of money to spare. I mean, we've made a couple mistakes, like not locking the bedroom door, and—" It was only then that Haruka realized what she had just said. She froze on the spot, her eyes wide, her mouth agape as she realized just what she had just said, her knees trembling as actualization dawned upon her. She gripped her hair, tugging at it roughly, as she snapped, "Stupid!"
"Why would you need to worry about locking the bedroom door, Haruka?" her father asked, confused, "I don't under—" And then it dawned upon him. He stared at his daughter, a bewildered expression in his eyes.
"Haruka, have you been, have you had been involved in a relationship?" Mrs. Tenoh asked, in a stunned whisper.
Haruka nodded.
"Was it a physically intimate relationship?"
Haruka nodded.
"In this relationship, did you have sex?"
Haruka nodded.
Her father ran a hand through his hair, unable to look at his daughter. She squeezed her hair tighter. Her father could see her now for the whore that she was. She had only had sex with Michiru! She wasn't a whore. And yet, in her heart, she kept calling herself by that name. A whore. A whore. A whore. That's what she was in her father's eyes. Someone who was easy. Deflowered. Impure. Filthy.
A whore.
"Who was it?"
"Who was what?"
"Who did you have sex with?"
"Why do you want to know anyway?"
"I want to know whose neck I need to snap."
"Alright, I confess. She had sex with me." Michiru placed a hand on her chest, her eyes determined and clear, staring straight at Mr. Tenoh. "Snap my neck so long as you don't hurt my Haruka."
"Wait, you?" her father stammered, staring at Michiru in disbelief.
"That's why I came here," Haruka whispered, her gaze averted, her fingers clenched, "I found out that I'm—I'm a lesbian."
For a moment, no one spoke. No one moved. No one even drew breath. Haruka knew she was finished. Her parents would pass judgment on her, bash her, to damn her to hell. It was over. It was all over. Her parents were going to kill her. Her father wasn't speaking. Her loving father, the man she had resented so much yet loved so deeply, was going to kill her. She was going to just wilt and die right here and now.
"This is too much right now," her father muttered, rising to her feet, "I need to clear my head. I'm going for a ride. I'll be back later. Haruka, I just thought you'd be—oh forget it." With that, her father left the room, leaving Haruka and Michiru alone with the silent Mrs. Tenoh. For a moment, all was quite.
Then Haruka's mother broke the silence. "You had sex?"
"Yes," Haruka said.
"Why?"
"It just felt natural," Haruka replied.
"It's a beautiful thing, the union of two bodies," Michiru replied.
"I know, I know," Mrs. Tenoh said, anxiously, "But why did you do it? You're just kids! You aren't supposed to do stuff like until you're adults! You aren't even 18, Haruka! You're still too young to be having sex!"
"I know! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I was so worried what you'd think after I did it. I couldn't bare to think you'd reject me, or hate me, for following my heart."
"Your heart?" her mother snapped, the disapproval in her eyes tangible, "You didn't follow your heart. You followed lust. If you did this with another man, you'd be pregnant, and then you'd really be in trouble!"
"Mom—"
"And that's another thing!" Mrs. Tenoh stammered, "This romance thing between you and Michiru? You aren't in love. This is just a phase, yes. That's all it is. You'll grow out of it, and when you do, your family will break apart. Once that happens, Hotaru will have no one!"
"It's not going to fall apart, mom! I love Michiru more than you could possibly imagine."
"Mrs. Tenoh, I'm not going to leave Haruka anytime soon," Michiru replied, "I love her with all my heart, and never once in the year I've known her have we even considered having an argument. I mean, even when Haruka flirts with other—"
"You've been flirting?" her mother snapped, in disapproval.
"It's not like that! I pretend I'm a guy, and—"
"Do I even know you? Who are you? You aren't my Haruka at all, are you?" Mrs. Tenoh cried, holding her face in her hands, "What did I do wrong, anyway?"
"Mom, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
For the first time in perhaps a year, maybe longer, Haruka Tenoh cried.
#
Originally I had planned on this being a two-shot. However, there's too much ground to stop with just two chapters.