AW YEAH I LOVE S-ERA

—

So we didn’t have to
sacrifice anyone for the talismans.

It wasn’t, Michiru thought as she settled into bed, strictly
true. Even their near deaths aside, they were sacrificed for this. She set the
mirror next to her pillow and let her fingers rest on the handle. In the quiet,
she could feel the faint beat of her pulse in it. A part of her heart lay next
to her, a real slice of her life force made hard and cold and powerful.

She’d been foolish. Michiru had thought they had just one
thing to do, one terrible thing, and then they could move on, broken but free. The
mirror mocked her. It tied her to this life forever, unto death. And Haruka…
Michiru gripped the mirror’s handle, tempted to smash its glass against the
wall. She hadn’t been enough to save her. There would never be enough to get
her out of this mess. Michiru had failed in every mission save the one she
never wanted. She looked at her refection. What would it mean, to break the
glass of one’s own heart? Surely more than the prescribed seven years of bad
luck. But it couldn’t hurt more than what had happened in the cathedral when
Eudial shot it out, and before…

There was a knock on her bedroom door, so quiet she nearly
missed it.

Michiru tucked the mirror under a pillow and sat up. “Yes.”

“Are you awa—I guess you are. Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

The door opened, but Haruka hovered with her hand on the
knob instead of coming in. She always looked small in her sleepwear, the way
her t-shirts hung from her shoulders and her boxers accented the leanness of
her long legs, but she never looked so small as she did tonight. There was a
caved-in air to her, like much more than a piece of her heart had been removed.

“I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t sleep, and I thought…”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I think maybe I do.” The door creaked as Haruka leaned more
of her weight on the handle. Her hands shook. Rather than look at Michiru, she
curved her whole body towards the floor. “I wasn’t… I should have done things
differently. And what you did…”

“You owe me nothing for that,” Michiru said, perhaps a bit
too sharply. Would that she had stayed more composed through the whole thing,
let Haruka think she was merely looking out for her partner in the mission. She
wanted no gratitude, and certainly not pity.

Haruka let out a strangled sounding laugh. “What would I
even do to pay you back for that?” She braved a look up, and her voice got even
softer. “What did I do to make you do it in the first place?” Her chin quivered
and she didn’t wait for an answer. “When you… when it happened… I’ve been an
ass, I’d thought— I’d thought everything you’d said about doing whatever it
takes was true, I thought I couldn’t… so I am sorry.” She shrunk back into the
hall. “That’s really all I wanted to say, I’ll let you sleep. I’m sorry.” She
turned and made to close the door.

Michiru shot up. “Wait, please.” She stopped just short of
touching Haruka. “If there’s one thing you can do for me, it’s not feel this
way. This is my fault. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

Haruka did not turn around. She forced another laugh, even
faker than the last. “I guess I’m doomed to fail everything right now.” She
choked on the last word.

“Haruka.” Michiru’s heart pounded, even the piece still
tucked in her bed. She swallowed down every self-conscious feeling and fear and
wrapped her arms around Haruka from behind. Her head pressed into the space
between her shoulder blades and her hands found their way to the curve of her
ribs in the moment before Haruka took them in her own.

The taller girl’s body shook as she cried. “I thought you
were dead, and I hadn’t, I couldn’t—“

“I’m not dead. I’m here.” Michiru rubbed her thumb into
Haruka’s palm. “I’m here with you.”

“But what if next time… we still…”

“We’ll be fine. Whatever happens, I’ll be with you.”

Haruka raised one hand to her mouth and kissed it. “I’m going
to do better this time, I promise you.”

“You don’t—“

“I want to. I want to be good to you, Michi.”

Michiru felt a tear run down her own cheek. She wanted this,
badly, selfishly, more than anything else. But half Haruka’s heart now resided
in a sword, Haruka was tied to this battle. And if Michiru couldn’t save her
before, she’d never succeed now. Abandon
me, please, save yourself. She should have pushed her away, tried to change
her mind. But when Haruka turned to hold her in her arms, Michiru let her.