Disclaimers

Category: Sailor Moon
Pairing: Michiru/Haruka
Copyright: "Sailor Moon" is copyrighted by DiC, Toei, Kodansha, and Naoko Takeuchi. The characters of Sailor Moon are used here without permission - for entertainment, not for profit.
The story and all its original characters are property of the author.
Fiction Rating: T
Author's Note: -chan, -kun, -san, -sensei are titles.

San - neutral, used in most situations
Kun - informal, used for boys and men younger than oneself
Chan - informal, used for young children and very close friends or family members
Sensei - used for teachers, doctors, people with a higher education

Author's E-Mail: kinkaze @ hotmail.com

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In The Wings

by Kin-Kaze

PART 3

The next morning Michiru didn't feel so well… She had tried to make a show of lessening the amount of the breakfast served to her, but that's all it was, a show. Her father hadn't been home that night, she was pretty certain… but unable to ask, unable to put a voice to her concerns and trouble her mother, anxiety churned at her insides. She couldn't face any of them. The duplicitous staff, the cold presence of her mother, the colder absence of her father…

She left early for school… not really for school, just to take the longer walk, providing the reassuring falsehood of meeting up with friends beforehand. Her mother was easily placated with such lies. Down the road there were a few groups of kids in the same uniform, she recognized them from her classes, they probably didn't recognize her. Across, on the other side of the street she watched the bubbly dynamics of interacting children. There was the girl with the purple pencil case who sometimes sat beside her… and that boy who was always a bit scruffy and made everyone laugh by building paper darts that couldn't fly straight and never reached the teacher's back, but tended to veer off and out the window… She didn't feel like a child.

Each step took her nearer to the gates and the sound of the morning bell, as if in reaction she slowed her pace. Flecks of sunlight through the trees overhead scattered and blurred her vision. Through the park the other students buzzed past, sailing of on their alternate wavelength. Again she took a detour, ducking around to walk through the marquee where the bands would sometimes set up and play in the weekend. Across the hollow floor she paused to find the obstacle of a figure. She paused… that familiar form.

Tenoh Haruka. Her presence left Michiru slightly nervous; their friendship was shaky at best. Those taunts, the bouts of disinterest… Michiru couldn't place her as a friend or enemy… but definitely… something. And sitting alone on the large steps, hunched over fists, staring with her fierce eyes, she looked like she might well have been from one of those fairy tales. The ones she preferred, where the hero has to struggle… those ones seemed more real to her. Michiru paused in her walk and swam in her thoughts. Because, though she would never do it, right at that moment, all she wanted was to sit right beside that figure and just ask… 'Has this world ever let you down? Because, at that moment she believed the girl might just say yes. She might have been just the same…

A hunched shoulder flexed, stirring the observer's nerves. She suddenly felt she shouldn't have been there and standing and looking and wishing. Reasserting her gaze forward, she proceeded without a backwards glance towards the school. And, if Tenoh Haruka had noticed her, she never said a thing.

X

"Now come on." The lesson wasn't going well, she couldn't get the inflection right… Michiru couldn't shake the funk she was in, couldn't feel compelled to even try enough to concentrate on the intonation of yet another 'lilting' piece… And he was getting that look… like he knew it already, that she didn't care. His stressed form drew closer, she noticed with mild interest that he was slightly flushed, the muscles in his face taught with repressed anger. The glowing face seemed quite displaced in such a small, dark room.

"No! Again." And she played again, and it was wrong again … apparently. She didn't know why. Or why he was so angry, it was a new piece after all. What did it matter?

She played again.

And again.

And again.

And it was wrong. He was saying something. She wasn't listening. His face was almost purple. She didn't care. The lilting tone, every note seemed to scrape against her head. It ached. Unmentionably it hurt, so that she felt blank. He was closer, yelling… and she couldn't focus. His hands were on her shoulders. She had stopped playing. And suddenly she could concentrate. The pain of tightly clenching fingers forcing into her shoulders drew her attention back to his face. She had pushed him too far again.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Huh… What wasn't?

"Nothing, sir." His grip was tighter still. It was going to bruise again.

"Nothing? Do you know who I am?" His expression was livid. "I'm no one to be wasting my time with ignorant, arrogant rich kids who can't grow enough personality to infuse into their practice!" The pressure increased unbearably with the last word, and then released. She was pushed back.

"Just go." She stumbled slightly; hopefully nothing was broken this time… it was never easy to explain. "Come back when you've… I don't know… purchased some talent." He held the bridge of his nose as though he had been hurt himself.

Again blank, she picked up her violin case and walked from the room.

"Thank you." She whispered, both out of habit and because, for a moment, she had had something to snap her out of it… And it wasn't so bad, she knew terrible things could happen to young girls, but this was just bruising … nothing really bad. Not really.

"Hey, Kaioh-san." It was Tenoh Haruka. Always Tenoh Haruka.

"Oh… Why are you…" She was still quite numb.

"I've got a piano lesson starting in about…" She acknowledged her wrist. "Uh, fifteen minutes…"

"Oh… I think you will have an early start then …" She would have to wait around a bit longer before going home. She didn't want to explain her flawed practice. "I've just finished."

"Heh, such a genius, eh?" Michiru felt her breath quiver. This girl didn't understand at all… "Already aced your pieces, I guess?" With that a joking congratulatory hand was placed softly on her shoulder. The unmentionable pain seared. She didn't understand… She didn't understand at all… Tears welled in her cerulean eyes as she flinched away from the touch.

"Not at all." She whispered this before running almost blindly for the exit.

And now she had probably blown any chance of a normal friendship. Hot tears fell freely at this conclusion… Tenoh Haruka probably thought she was overly emotional, or afraid to be touched on the shoulder… or just afraid of her. And she wasn't. Not really. Not at all … she was quite fascinated, well, that would have to stop.

She had reached the park again. Finding a secluded bench she sat with her head bowed. Her shoulders ached. Her head ached. Her face was wet with tears. She just couldn't face this sometimes. She wished her grandmother had still been there… for all her years to be jaded by the world, her judgment seemed untainted by any injury. Without being boring or patronizing she had been eternally understanding. She remembered looking over an article on Olympians when she had been in hospital. She had always hungered for information on the outside world once it had been denied.

X

"Well, that's quite an achievement in the hundred meters!"

"Huh?" Michiru looked over at an upside-down picture accompanying an article on the sprinter who was snapped bursting through the finish line. "Hey, he's pretty good-looking, too!" She giggled.

"Oh, my Michiru, you really should go for someone your own age."

"Hmm, but no one my own age looks like this…"

"That's true, but an athlete? You know they are always surrounded by women."

"Of course. There's a good reason for that!"

"Ah, very well… You have my blessing."

"Thank you." She laughed; she could even discuss such girlish things as crushes.

"But you'd better bring her to meet me so I can check she's good enough first."

"Sorry?"

"She may have a record in the woman's hundred meters, but that has little bearing on her character…"

"Oh…" Michiru looked down at the picture of the athlete and on closer inspection realized she had been deceived. She was still pretty though…

Relaying the joke to her mother later that evening she had met with a frosty response.

"That's really nothing to laugh about, Michiru. You should know about women like that… they really aren't normal. They don't live properly."

"Athletes?"

"No not… Oh, I'll explain to you another time…" She was still in wait of that explanation.

X

The wind rustled in the branches. The sounds of other children had diminished; she was the only one left. That was all right, it would be better to wait before returning home. She picked up her school bag and violin case and headed for the marquee. She wanted to perform there properly one day. Forfeit the dusty, airless recital halls and play to the brilliant light of a leisurely morning… then she might be compelled to be… lilting.

But it was no brilliant morning, there were no happy crowds untainted by the expectancies of aristocratic norms, who would applaud when genuinely impressed, or cheer, or whistle inappropriately. There was only the noise of distressed adults buzzing though her brain. The anxiety of being unable to perform. The pain in her shoulders. And the inability to explain anything to anyone. Her parents were better when not reminded of each other. And she could never say that she had been hurt. Her mother really liked her tutor, it was an expensive school, she would probably just be disappointed. All there was left for accompaniment were fragile leaves twisting in the dying light of the afternoon.

So, for them she played.

She played the melancholy song of her heart, forgetting tempo, timbre… any technical convention. The strains of the tune for the strains in her life, it seemed a fair compromise. She was on the verge of ripping up any uplifting, lilting, sprightly… any damn music that she couldn't feel. She played to the stretching shadows, the empty swings, the vacant parking lot… she played until her tears ran dry, and the sounds of night and cars stained the sound-scape.

"You're pretty strange, aren't you?"

"Tenoh-san." She couldn't think of an appropriate greeting. "If you've come here to mock me I don't think I can take it right now…"

"Whoa, what's gotten into you? I mean… you walked straight past me this morning… You burst into tears and run away if I touch you… Have I done something to offend you?"

Michiru busied herself packing her case. "You wouldn't understand…"

"Well, come on! If you don't explain anything you can't really expect me to?"

"I won't trouble you…" Her voice was flat.

"Uh, that's the problem," She was walking up the steps now, "seeing a pretty girl cry tends to trouble me when I can't see the reason…"

"You're full of big words, Tenoh-san."

"Haruka."

"Alright, Haruka-san."

"No. Just Haruka will be okay."

"Haruka, then…" She played the word over in her mind enjoying it's sound.

"I appreciate it, Kaioh-san." She grinned deviously.

"Well that's not fair…"

"Heh, all's fair in… uh…" She scratched the back of her head, blushing slightly. "You know, I don't think that phrase is applicable here…"

"Oh no, please, go on… I'm never sure whether it's love or war with you, anyhow." She had upper hand. The blush deepened.

"Well, that's something you should probably know about me…"

"What's that…?"

"It's always war!" She was triumphant.

"Ah, I shouldn't expect more from you…"

"Probably not… Now are you going to tell me what's upsetting you, or should I just assume it's that your idea for the topless bathing fashion has gotten you into trouble at school? … Ouch! I though you wouldn't be the sort to punch… Ow… 'kay, got it." She rubbed her arm lightly.

"Subdued enough for me to begin?"

"Uh huh."

X

"Well, good evening you two. You're out a bit late on a school night… ?"

"We were… talking." Michiru addressed her mother at the front door. It was her who had done the talking predominantly; she was surprised at Haruka's ability to switch into the role of a sober listener when she needed to. "Can Haruka stay for dinner?"

"Of course, of course, just come inside the both of you, you'll catch a cold if you haven't already."

They were seated in the dining room.

"I'm afraid we've eaten already, If you don't mind, I'll just re-heat something, the staff have gone home already…"

"Thanks."

"Thank you." At this Michiru's mother left for the kitchen.

"Well?" Haruka hissed conspiratorially.

"What?"

"Are you gonna tell her?"

"What about?"

"Michiru…" She darted a pointed look at a silently throbbing shoulder.

"No… I… She wouldn't want to know…"

" So what? She should know anyway!"

"Look, it's fine… it's not the first time… "

"What?"

"Okay girls." The sound broke into their conversation. Michiru sent a warning look to her companion, who seemed to back down. "I hope this is okay for you… I've got to meet with a member on the board," Whichever board that was, Michiru thought dully, "So I'm going to have to leave you," She turned to Haruka, "Haruka-chan you'll be alright for a ride home?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, good night." The door closed.

The blonde played with her limp strips of food. "I still think you're strange."

"Shut up Haruka-chan…"

"Hey, only your mother can call me that…"

"Oh, I should have known there was something with my mother… Hey!" A well aimed noodle hit and hung from her fringe. Tenoh Haruka was in hysterics.

"I can't believe… !"

"What… ? I would be so… immature… ? Heh, I'm finding it quite possible that I'm your complete opposite… so it shouldn't be too surprising… Oi! The seaweed hadn't reached its goal quite so well, however the splash as it met with the bowl of miso had been quite successful in dampening her opponent's shirt…

"Now I warned you about a war… you should know not to choose such a strong competitor… Hey! … Actually that was quite a good shot…"

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Part 2 | Part 4