Tag: harumichi

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

docholligay replied to your post “When I get into class differences with Haruka and Michiru I
tend to…”

I actually delve pretty intensely into the differences having a safety net your entire life makes. I’m a huge huge rich michiru/ poor haruka lover, and I think there’s a lot there that molds how they react to things.

REASON #3499 YOUR FICS ARE ALWAYS SOME OF MY FAVORITES
(seriously)
(now I’m thinking about your writing on Michiru coming to cook for Haruka and bringing all the extra food and GOSH)

I can imagine the difference can cause a lot of conflicts, some of them almost ridiculous (I can imagine Haruka has no concept of why they can’t do some things, Michiru has more money than she can even comprehend so why CAN’T she get that expensive new car/remodel the house to have a better nursery/make a donation of the entire amount of the local shelter’s fundraising goal?). I LOVE SEEING THE DIFFERENCES EXPLORED. IT IS MY SHIT.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

When I get into class differences with Haruka and Michiru I
tend to stick to the culture side of it, but sometime I should delve more into
the money side, because I don’t see much of that. And I think people probably
avoid it so as to not fall into “the feminine partner making/having more money
is emasculating,” but there’s more to it than that. I don’t think Haruka would
have a problem with Michiru making or having more money. There’s an extent it’s
comforting, because money is safety and it’s a safety Haruka’s never had. BUT.
The extent of the difference can be hard. Because even when Haruka gets a good
job, makes decent money, it’s never enough to make any difference. (I never see
Haruka making THAT much, I see her eventually becoming a real good mechanic,
making enough to support herself and a family well enough, but not enough for
her to contribute any wealth.)

Not making a difference has to hurt Haruka. Really, she
wouldn’t have to have a job at all. She basically works to have her own name on
her card when she and Mina go out for beers. (Michiru says she can put Haruka’s
name on a card from her account.  Haruka
cannot explain how badly that misses the point.) The amount she pulls in a year
might not even match the interest and returns Michiru gets on her savings
accounts. There’s nothing she can get Michiru or their family that Michiru can’t
get herself, and get a much better version of. When she gets her first
full-time job and can buy into company health insurance, Michiru already has
them covered. Retirement plan? Michiru’s had one for years, and it’s already
fuller than Haruka’s would ever be.

It’s a struggle that I think elevates the importance of
things like an engagement ring and other touchstones—Haruka needs something to
work for, and she has to tell herself that the difference in the time it takes
her to get the money for big things matters and makes it more special. But it’s
still a struggle.

spicy take: having Silmil Neptune and Uranus be a couple cheapens what haruka and michiru have

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

YOOOOO LISTEN. THERE ARE LOTS OF VERSIONS OF SILMIL I ENJOY
BUT NONE OF THEM HAVE THEM AS A COUPLE. NOOOONE. My personal pet headcanon has
them never even meeting.

SilMil Uranus and Neptune being together cheapens them being
together in this life and also doesn’t add anything. You can say what you like
about Miracle Romance, but the past life thing has purpose there. Two souls,
finding each other through time and space. That’s their story. But Haruka and
Michiru have a different story. They’re not meant for each other in the same
way. Their past life gave them their duty, but that’s it. The rest is in their
hands. They have to struggle some to come together, and if they know they can
make it work because they did in a past life, that’s uninteresting and
unrelatable.

(The conceit of soulmates/destined lovers/whatever can kind
of squick me with gay couples, I feel like it goes along with ~we can’t help
who we love~ and holding gay love to higher, purer standards.)

I also don’t feel like memories of the past are important to
all to them? And they have no reason to be. For the Inners, it’s imperative to
their duty that they remember how important Serenity is, and that the feeling
carries over. (Their actual memories vary in clarity, but they all have enough
to know that they have to project the princess.) But the outers are supposedly there
to protect the solar system itself, so they don’t need the same focus for their
memories. (I think Neptune remembers a lot, but has no emotional connection to
the past).

ANYWAY. NO THANK YOU.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Growing Up Fast Is Hard To Do: An Unhappy Outers Family Fic

Part Two! (Part One)

This chapter is about 1200 words. As I said before, let me know if you want to see this continue! And I have a ko-fi.

There was a small part of Setsuna that took joy in every
little bit Hotaru aged. She had all the official knowledge the world had to
offer about children, but Haruka could find that as well. The closer Hotaru got
to the age Small Lady had been, the more Setsuna had the edge of experience. It
shouldn’t be a contest, she knew, but Haruka distrusted her. Haruka would
exclude her if she thought it possible. It was Pluto’s place in the universe,
to stand alone and watch from afar. A child had changed that once before, and a
child could change it again. It wasn’t that Setsuna wanted to be loved best,
she just wanted to be loved.

Although perhaps being loved best wouldn’t be the worst
thing.

Haruka had hogged the baby, so surely it was not wrong for
Setsuna to draw the toddler’s attention to herself.

“Hotaru!” Haruka called once again from the patio doors. “Do
you want to come play catch?” She threw the ball up with exaggerated gusto,
practically falling back over herself to catch it.

“No thank you, Papa.”

Setsuna kept her smile to herself. This was their time
together, and Hotaru wanted that. She wanted to learn the songs and stories of
bygone eras. Only Setsuna could teach her that.

“Now, little one, in—“

“Setsuna-mama, where’s Michiru-mama?”

‘In her studio, I believe. Why do you ask?”

Hotaru jumped down from her seat, her hair and little dress
fanning out behind her. “I want to see her!”

“Oh.” Michiru did not participate in the secret tug-of-war. “I
don’t think she wants to be disturbed, Hotaru.”

“So I won’t disturb her.”

Setsuna followed with reluctance as Hotaru made her way
through the house. To the little girl’s credit, she did not run. She walked with
a seriousness beyond her years, as she did most things. Setsuna would place her
around four, possibly, though she remained very small so it was hard to say for
sure. Perhaps ascribing any age to Hotaru was pointless until her aging settled
down and her mind and body aligned. She was a mystery. Setsuna tried not to
think that as a mystery herself, that made her the best parent for Hotaru. She
did not succeed.

The door to Michiru’s studio was open. She sat before a
canvas, working with her finest brush on several tiny lines on one side.

“She’s busy, Hotaru,” Setsuna whispered. “We should leave
her be.”

“Michiru-mama?” Hotaru padded over anyway. “I want to paint
with you.”

Michiru withdrew her brush from the canvas. She smiled a
smile that was genuine but, by Setsuna’s measure, lacking the glow of love. “Mama’s
paints aren’t good for little hands.”

“Oh.” Hotaru hung her head.

“Hold on one moment.” Michiru walked around to one of her
cabinets and picked through it. She turned back with a pad of paper, an old
brush, and a handful of paint tubes. “I don’t use these very much, but you
still have to be very careful with them, okay?”

Hotaru nodded. “I will, Mama.”

“If it gets on your hands, tell me and we’ll wash it off
together.” Michiru smiled again. “Mama likes to paint quietly, is that okay?”

Another vigorous nod. “I will be quiet as a cat.”

Michiru chuckled. “Thank you, Hotaru. But do tell me if you
need anything.” She sat back at her canvas, and Hotaru settled on the floor
next to her and sorted through her paints.

Setsuna lingered at the door for a moment before taking her
leave. There would be other days. This was merely one of many. She had not lost
to the only person not competing.

—-

There was something comforting in having Hotaru working next
to her. Michiru did her best not to get attached. She could see the writing on
the wall; they could only play house for so long. And yet… it was hard, she
assumed, to not feel affection for a child who lived in your home. She ought to
ask her parents how they’d done it.

“Mama?” Hotaru’s little voice broke her reverie. “I have to
use the bathroom.”

“You may go.”

Hoatru did not move. She stared up at Michiru with her big
purple eyes full of question.

“Oh. Do you need… help?”

Hotaru nodded.

Michiru swallowed. This was out of her depth. She tried to
figure out if any nanny she’d looked into could be there soon enough to save
her. “Would you like me to call Haruka-papa or Setsuna-mama?”

Hotaru shook her head. “I gotta go now.”

“Okay.” Michiru set down her brush, nearly knocking over her
paints and water. “Let’s go then.”

Hotaru hopped quickly from foot to foot down the hall, and
continued to do so once she reached the toilet. “Hurry, Mama, hurry!”

“Okay.” Michiru put up the toilet lid. Hotaru still looked
expectant. With a deep breath, Michiru helped her wriggle her skirt and underclothes
to her ankles. Hotaru nodded encouragement. Michiru lifted her to the seat and
tried to pretend she was anywhere else.

Senshi life bore many trials. She’d never felt less
qualified than this.

Yet Hotaru seemed fine, even proud, when it was over and
Michiru gave her a boost to wash her hands.

“Hey, Hotaru, I got bubbles form the corner store, do you…”
Haruka zoomed into the door frame and stopped short. “Oh, hi Michiru.”

“I’m having a good day with Mama!” Hotaru said, beeming up
at her papa. “Do you want to see what I made?”

Michiru knew Haruka well enough to see how she tried to keep
her face stiff, but she still fell to looking like a lonely puppy. “Sure.”

Hotaru led the way back to the studio, marching proud. She
picked up her unfinished painting with a flourish. It was a crude and unsteady
work, but long deliberate lines of green made it an unmistakable portrait of
Michiru. “I gotta finish it still,” Hotaru said in her most serious voice. “But
it’s Michiru-mama!’

Haruka had been struck in battle countless times, but Michiru
had never seen her so wounded. “It’s very good,” she offered. “You must love
your Mama a lot. Maybe she’ll put it on her wall.”

Michiru knew what she had to do. “It’s alright.” She knelt
and frowned. “You should work on finer lines for the hair, and the perspective
is a bit of a mess.” She bit the inside of her cheek and looked Hotaru in the
eyes. “It’s alright for a first try, but I expect better from you.”

“Oh.” Hotaru turned the paper around to look, and then let
it drop to the floor. “Papa, you said you had bubbles?”

They walked out hand in hand. Michiru watched them leave.
Once they were out of sight, she picked up Hotaru’s painting. It was lovely in its
own way, pure and innocent and affectionate. She walked over to her cabinet and
propped it up against the back, where it would be hidden from everyone but her—her
secret memory to keep even after everything fell apart.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Growing Up Fast Is Hard To Do: An Unhappy Outers Family Fic

~1,400 words. This is something I might continue if there’s interest, it’s a concept that I find pretty rich. So if you like it, let me know! (or, if you want, I have a ko-fi)

Having Hotaru might have been the greatest thing to ever
happen to Haruka, she mused as she bounced the baby around the room. The little
girl smiled up at her. There were things that weren’t ideal—they were barely
out of school, Setsuna was a strange and intimidating roommate and co-parent,
evil was rising once again—but that smile was all Haruka needed. This was her
chance to live out her dream with Michiru, and they otherwise might not be able
to.

Hotaru’s eyes slowly closed and her weight sank more fully
against Haruka’s chest. Haruka felt her heart grow warm.

“Michiru!” she called as loud as she could while still whispering.
“Look, she’s falling asleep on me.”

Michiru leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “It’s very
sweet.” Her smile did not reach her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Haruka set Hotaru gently in the crib. She
let herself be pulled into the hall and shut the door.

“My suggestion still stands.”

“What sug—the nanny thing? No! This is wonderful, Michi, I’m
not gonna have some stranger meddling around with our kid.”

Michiru pressed her lips together. “She’s not our child. And
even if she were… there are a myriad of reasons I’m as well-adjusted as I am,
and most of them were on my parents’ payroll. I only think we should give
Hotaru the same opportunities.”

“Are you saying you don’t think I can be a good enough
parent?”

“No, Haruka.” She sighed heavily. “I’m just asking you to
think about it.”

“And I have!” Haruka shouted, before remembering the baby
was just a thin wall away. “I have,” she whispered. “I want this so bad, Michi.
She’s our little baby. Our little bundle of joy.”

Michiru did a decent impression of a smile. “I’m glad you’re
happy, love.”

But the uneasiness was there. It clouded in Haruka’s mind
alongside her own fears. After everything, couldn’t she be happy? Couldn’t she
be good? She deserved happiness—no, she deserved nothing. She forced a smile
back at Michiru. She, at least deserved something good.

Maybe that was the problem. Haruka’s smile turned genuine as
the thought entered her mind. Maybe Michiru didn’t think Haruka was a horrible
parent, maybe she was jealous. They were finally really together, after all,
and now Haruka was too focused on the baby.

“Why don’t we go out?”

Michiru gave a start. “Pardon?”

“We haven’t been on a date for a while, and what’s the point
of three parents if we don’t take advantage for some romance?” Haruka felt a
pang of something ugly at Setsuna being as much Hotaru’s parent as the two of
them, but she fought it down. For Michiru. “I wanna give you a beautiful night.”

Michiru looked puzzled, but happier. “I suppose I’d like
that. Shall I start making myself presentable?”

Haruka grabbed her around her middle. “You’re always
presentable and beautiful and amazing.” She kissed along her ear, feeling
immediately enchanted. Sometimes touching Michiru consumed her with the desire
to worship her, to pull her closer and closer until they were so tangled up in
each other they might be a single creature.

“Haruka!” Michiru giggled. “If you continue, I won’t let you
take me anywhere but the—“

Her words were cut off from a shrill cry from Hotaru. Haruka
jumped away. She’d forgotten, somehow, so quickly, about the baby.

“I’ll… I’ll, um, just see what she needs real quick. You can
start getting ready. I’ll be quick.”

It was not quick. The diaper was messy, Hotaru was fussy,
Haruka was guilty. She spent longer than was strictly necessary soothing Hotaru
back to sleep, and then had to shower. There was no part of her that wanted to
get a nanny, but as she scrubbed at her arms in the hot water, she did wonder
briefly if she would be better off. That seemed so selfish—one postponed date,
and she was looking to run the other way? No, that wasn’t Haruka. She was
better than that. She was more than her own parents could be.  She would make this work.

She put on a clean pressed shirt and Michiru’s favorite tie
and went down to the living room. Setsuna sat on the couch with a magazine. That
seemed out of place to Haruka. She felt Setsuna was a person who ought to be
sighted with big, impossible tomes of knowledge, not a flashy flimsy fashion
rag.

“You look very nice,” Setsuna said as she turned a page. “I
hope you have a lovely time.”

“Uh, thanks.” Haruka shuffled her feet against the carpet. “I
hope you have a good night in.”

Setsuna gave a soft, knowing smile. “Thank you. I believe I
shall.”

Haruka’s cheeks flushed hot with unbidden shame—they ought
to be equals, but Setsuna always made her feel like a simple child.

“Are you ready, love?” Michiru appeared at the top of the
stairs, and everything else faded to background noise. She wore a simple wrap
dress, just enough shades of pink from white to bring out her eyes. Her hair
curled at her bare shoulders. As always, she looked like an impossible dream.

Going out with her often felt the same way. It was a dream
everyone had, Haruka was sure—to be on the arm of the most beautiful woman in
any room, to have everyone looking at you and knowing that somehow, the most beautiful
woman has picked you, is getting dinner with you, is making everyone in the restaurant
jealous of you. Sometimes, it was too much, but that night, Haruka reveled in
it. She made eye contact with one man as they sat down and puffed out her chest
to show him he wouldn’t have even been in the running.

Dinner was nice, and Michiru’s attention was nicer. She held
Haruka’s hand on the white tablecloth and narrowed the world to the two of
them. It was an ability that amazed Haruka. She wondered sometimes if it was an
offshoot of Neptune’s powers or pure Michiru. She barely even noticed the
waiter, just that there was food and then there wasn’t and then Michiru was
pulling out her purse to handle the check.

“I can help with the tip,” Haruka said, returning to
herself. She should have paid more attention to the waiter, and she should have
more to offer Michiru besides.

Michiru gave her a particular unreadable smile she saved for
these moments. “Why don’t I put it on my card, and you can treat me back later?”
She wrote down a large number Haruka knew meant both that she was being
appeased and she would be unable to match the amount.

“I guess that’s alright.” Haruka leaned close. “Maybe I’ll
treat you when we get home. Make this worth your while.”

“An evening with you is always worthwhile. But…” Michiru
gave a tiny tug on Haruka’s tie. “I can think of a thing or two I might want.”

Surely Setsuna wouldn’t mind babysitting a little longer.

Haruka drove home as fast as she could without breaking too
many laws. The lights in the living room were still on as she pulled in; she
prepared to give Setsuna a good excuse as to why she should answer to any of
Hotaru’s cries when they were all home. Bonding time, maybe. Haruka hogged
little Hotaru, she knew, but that was because she loved her best. She could be
so gracious as to give Setsuna a night.

“Hey, Sets.” She said with her key in the door. “How was
your night?”

“Good thank you. I’m just reading Hotaru a story.”

“Oh good,” Haruka said as she kicked off her shoes. “How was—“

She froze. Her baby was not on the couch. A toddler, with
black hair down to her chin and big knowing eyes, looked up from next to
Setsuna.

Michiru placed her hand on Haruka’s shoulder. “Setsuna did
say—“

“What did you do to her?”

Setsuna sighed and closed her storybook. “I told you this
might happen. With whatever evil coming—“

“She’s a baby she shouldn’t—or she was a baby! And—“

“It’s okay, Papa. I want to be this right now.”

Haruka gaped. Fear, mixed with awe that someone so small
could speak so clearly, rammed against the joy of being called Papa for the
very first time. “Oh… okay. I’m sorry, Hotaru.”

The toddler turned back in her seat on the couch and kicked
out her legs. “Can we finish the story, Mama?”

“Of course.”

Haruka shrugged off Michiru’s comforting hand to go upstairs
alone. This wasn’t what she’d imagined at all.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

@awesomefrauellauniverse You’ve probably forgotten you ever prompted me, and this isn’t very good but I was determined to do something with your prompt. So here it is! Just under 900 words, in an AU where Uranus and Neptune didn’t awaken.

The Opposite of Destiny


Haruka
shot up from her tangle of blankets. “What was that?”

“It’s just the wind, babe, come back to sleep.”

But the wind alone was never so compelling. It had a
partner, sometimes, who was swift and direct and impossible to ignore.

“I’m going for a run.”

“What? It’s…” Sleepy fumbling for a phone. “It’s not
even four.”

“I gotta. I’m sorry, I’ll try and be back.”

“Try? Haruka-!”

But Haruka was already pulling on shorts and bolting out
the door. She would not be back, she knew, not really. It was hard to stay
still, stay rooted, when it found her. She had to escape to find her
peace. It always took time to catch up to her again.

Running
helped, when it was with her. Haruka figured it liked running too. She could
feel it beside her, keeping pace step for step. That was how she knew it to be
separate from the wind, although it seemed so similar. The wind did not have
feet. The wind came with her smooth and seamless. Its partner had a gait and a
pulse that matched Haruka’s.

“Maybe
I’ll tell her about you,” Haruka said a mile or so in. When she had a running partner,
she felt compelled to talk, even if she wasn’t sure how real it was. “Maybe I’ll
stay with her, with this job. What would you think of that?”

Her companion
said nothing, as always, but she could feel it calling her bluff. Sometimes she
moved on before it even found her.

“I’ve
always wanted to settle down with a woman, get married, the whole shindig. What
do you have against that?”

It was
not any of those things that it was against.

“One of
these days, you have to tell me why you’re here.”

But
that wasn’t fair. It tried. From the first moment she felt it, it had been
trying. Years and years of encounters, and it couldn’t get it across to her.
She felt the want, the compulsion to get her to somewhere, something, someone,
to make her understand. It needed something from her. When she was a young
teen, she’d fancied it a ghost, and in her secret heart of hearts, she’d hoped
the ghost was a girl who had fallen in love with her, wanted her, needed her.
The older she got, the more she knew that wasn’t right. It might be a ghost,
but not like that.

She let
it lead her today. The sun rose as they ran, through streets and parks and
trails. As much as she ran on her own, Haruka began to tire. Her partner slowed
for her, but drove her onwards. It had an urgency today. A hope. Haruka
wondered if it had figured out what to show her.

They
came upon a beach, and it let her walk. Haruka had always feared the water. She’d
had dreams of drowning as long as she could remember. If she wasn’t careful, one
day the water would swallow her up.

There
was only one other person on the beach this early. Haruka’s companion bid her
towards them.

Details
came into focus one by one. Long green hair, loose and frizzed in the sea
breeze. A canvas set up beside her, not yet painted on. A simple black dress.
Bare feet. The woman turned, then, and Haruka had the feeling they had met, but
she could not place her face.

“You’re…”
the woman started, but then frowned.

She had
something with her, too. Haruka could not say how she knew, but she’d never
encountered anyone like her before. “You have a ghost.” The words were out
before she could think of a better way to ask.

“Is that
what you call yours?” The woman looked out to the water. “I’ve always thought
of it as the spirit of the sea.”

“Mine’s
the wind, but also not.”

The
woman let out a low hum. She moved to the canvas and began to work.

“What
are you drawing?” Haruka asked, though she felt it was a stupid question.

“You
remind me of things I’ve seen in dreams.” The woman did not look away from her
paint. There were dark circles under her eyes, and wrinkles she hardly seemed
old enough for. “I dream often, and it’s always the same.” Her hands were
quick, the scene took shape on the canvas. Reds and blacks, a backdrop of
destruction, but in the foreground, a shining crystal cast light on what as
starting to take shape as a sword.

“Should
I let you be?”

The
woman hummed again. “The sea bid us to meet. It rarely asks more of me than to
paint.” She looked into Haruka’s eyes, then, sending a shiver down her spine. “Perhaps
you are the answer it can never give me.”

For the
first time, Haruka wondered if she wanted answers. She looked at the painting
again. Darkness. Death. A hope that hardly counted as such. She looked at the
woman. The sea.

The sea
would drown her, if she let it.

Haruka
turned and sprinted down the beach. She couldn’t face whatever the answer might
be. A life of wondering and wandering didn’t seem so bad anymore.

The
wind around her stilled as she ran. Uranus resigned herself to eternal sleep.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

docholligay replied to your post “I feel like, realistically, Setsuna, Haruka, and Michiru (the later of…”

These are some of MULTIPLE problems I have with HOF

THIS BECAME A LONG RANT WHOOPS

If I think about it too long I come to the conclusion that
it would WRECK Haruka in particular (Setsuna is Setsuna, I think she’d quietly
internalize it and it would be hard to see any difference, and Michiru can
compartmentalize, distance herself, and also I think she’d be the one who ends
up doing best by Hotaru, in that she asks for the least FROM Hotaru).

But like, let’s be generous and say Haruka is about 18 when
they get Hotaru. She’s still SO YOUNG, and while that works for some people, it
does not work for Haruka. We’re shown so much self-loathing on Haruka’s part,
and she hasn’t grown enough to be able to set it aside. She needs validation,
constantly. THIS IS THE WOMAN WHO HATES SEIYA (who comes in after Hotaru)
LARGELY BECAUSE SHE IS INSECURE AND AFRAID THAT SEIYA COULD TAKE EVERYTHING
(mostly Michiru, but also her place with all the other girls, because if you
don’t think Haruka feels she’s only interesting and attractive because she’s
butch and maybe the only butch the girls know you are w r o n g).

So you have Haruka NEEDING Hotaru to love her, because a
baby’s love is pure and good and if a baby loves her, she maybe has a chance at
being pure and good or at least WORTH something (even with Michiru, she has a
hard time feeling worth anything, because Michiru is rich and because Haruka
sees herself as replaceable, Michiru could love anyone who’d been in the same
circumstances). And I think while Hotaru is a real baby, it seems to be working
out great. Hotaru smiles at Haruka’s fun faces, she likes to be held to Haruka’s
chest, she falls asleep holding Haruka’s finger. But Hotaru isn’t a baby for
long, and Haruka can’t adjust, as much as she tries. The older Hotaru gets, the
harder time Haruka has. She tries desperately to connect with activities she
sees as wholesome—playing catch, cooking together, piggyback rides—but Hotaru
is perceptive, and as she sees it’s not for her benefit, she turns it down
every time.  

And once she remembers her original life, her original
family (regardless of if this is anime canon where she’s stolen or not) she
outright hates Haruka in particular. She hates all of them, but Setsuna has a
weird relationship with humanity and so Hotaru hates her the same way she hates
the situation as a whole, as something awful but not quite unnecessary, and
Michiru is harder for Hotaru to deal with because it’s both that she’s part of
this messed up situation and shouldn’t be in Hotaru’s life at all, and that she
doesn’t love Hotaru enough (Hotaru would never want to admit it, but I imagine
she craves Michiru’s affection and approval). Haruka is uncomplicated to her.
Hotaru knows exactly what Haruka wanted from her, and has no problem telling
her so. She has no problem being angry, asking why Haruka couldn’t be less
self-absorbed, be more attentive to who Hotaru really is, why she had to be in
Hotaru’s life at all.

And that destroys Haruka. Not necessarily beyond recovery,
but the cycle of hating herself would go on much longer than it otherwise
would. (And this is Haruka, she might do really stupid shit as a result, I don’t
know if I have the guts to write it, but her breaking things off with Michiru
because of the spirals this would cause would be like, a good fic and something
I see as likely.)

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

I feel like, realistically, Setsuna, Haruka, and Michiru (the later of whom are teens if we take canon at its word) would be a huge mess, with the “division” something like

-Setsuna has had zero interaction with people in general for who knows how many thousand years, her one point of reference for children is ChibiUsa and she is secretly devastated when Hotaru doesn’t respond with the same affection over songs and stories.

-Haruka is constantly two steps behind Hotaru’s rapid and erratic aging, she tries so hard but Hotaru is now the equivalent of eight and does not want to watch Sesame Street with Papa. Haruka is outwardly devastated. But she tries to be ~the cool parent~ still and offers pizza and candy for dinner. Or anything Hotaru likes, she’ll learn to cook it JUST PLEASE LOVE HER.

-Michiru is calling in a nanny, and also funding the whole enterprise. Tragically, she’s the one Hotaru shows the most affection for.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

On the Night of the Ball

My entry for the prompt party, Harumichi Cinderella! Mine is a modern take, about 2600 words. Enjoy!

The phone rang just as Haruka had settled into the couch for
the night. She untangled from the blanket and dove for the old landline, the
long braid of her hair smacking into her back. The answering machine was in her
mother’s room, and it was best not to disturb her.

“Hello?”

“So you know how I bet you fifty bucks I’d get you to go to
the Halloween dance?”

“Mina, the dance is in an hour—“

“And I’ll call off the deal if you come over right now.”

Haruka sighed. “So I can either stay in pajamas and get
fifty bucks, or drag myself out and get nothing?”

Mina clucked into the phone. “You can either stay in, have
me come make a scene and pay me fifty bucks you don’t have when I get you to
the dance, or you can come over here and not have to worry.” There was a pause,
Haruka knew she was twirling her hair with her free hand. “How about this, if
you come over, I’ll still pay up if you don’t go. And I’ve got the movie butter
popcorn you like.”

“Fine, Mina. But I’m not changing my clothes.”

“Didn’t ask you to, buddy.”

Haruka slipped on her shoes without leaving a note. Her
mother would assume she was at Mina’s, if she even noticed. And unless Haruka
did something wrong, she didn’t notice.

They lived mercifully close, Mina just a few blocks away in
a marginally nicer house. Her mother would be out, and father home, but it
amounted to them being alone anyway. Haruka tucked the loose strands of her
hair back as she got to the door. It was never easy to know what to expect with
Mina. This could end with Mina literally dragging her to the dance, or it could
be a wild plan that mysteriously ended in the school gymnasium, and whoops,
look at that Haruka, you’re at the dance. Haruka gripped the door knob and
resigned herself to losing the bet in a night of misery.

Mina stood in the foyer, dressed in a long robe she must
have found at a thrift store. “Dahling, you made it,” she said in her best
old-movie actress voice, leaning against the wall with a hand on her head. “I
was beginning to worry.”

“What’s the plan, Mina?”

“Don’t look so resigned!” She smiled, big and devious. “I’m
going to give you the night of your life.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Haruka shoved her shoulder as they filed down
the hall to Mina’s bedroom. “You say that every night.”

“And compared to how you’d be without my stunning influence,
it’s true.” Mina hopped onto her bed, smushing several stuffed animals. “But
tonight is different. I’ve been saving up tips from the salon to pull this off.”

A new dread settled in Haruka’s stomach. “Mina, you shouldn’t
waste your money—“

“You say now, having been willing to rob me dry in a bet.”
Her eyes flashed, she knew she had Haruka. “I’ve still got my wages in the
move-out fund, don’t you worry. But tonight’s not about what we need, it’s
about what I want. And I want you to have a good time.”

“Then why can’t we stay in and watch movies?” Haruka did not
do dances—not the dresses, not the shoes, not the hair, and certainly not the
dancing, not where everyone could see her.

“Because we do that all the time. Tonight should be
different.” Mina cracked her knuckles. “See my plan through, and then you can
decide, okay? If you don’t like it, we’ll stay in and I’ll see what I can
return to the store tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

Mina jumped up and grabbed Haruka’s wrist. “We’ll start with
your hair.”

“Hey, wait, no. Off-limits. You promised when you started at
the salon—“

“That I’d never use you as a guinea pig for styling.” Mina
yanked her into the bathroom. “I’m not styling your hair, Haruka, I’m cutting
it.”

“What?”

“I’m cutting your hair.” She pulled out a clipper set. “That’s
always been part of the problem, hasn’t it?”

“I…” Haruka pulled on the end of her braid. “My mom…”

“Tell her it’s for a costume, and if she kicks you out
anyway, you’ll stay here.” Mina softened and put her hands on Haruka’s
shoulders. “Halloween is about being whatever and whoever you want to be. I,
for one, want to be a slutty, slutty vampire, forever young and beautiful. You
want to be something else. You can try it, for tonight, and if it’s not right
you say it was all play and let your hair grow and no one will bat an eye.”

Haruka looked in the mirror. She wanted it. Always had. Her
mother had caught her as a child, cutting her hair with the kitchen scissors to
look like a boy’s. She had not been allowed anything more than a trim ever
since. “Do you think it would look okay? You don’t think I’d look too…” She
meant to say boyish, but couldn’t. Part of her wanted that, too. Not to be a
boy,  but to look and exist in that space
she’d rarely seen occupied, of being a different sort of woman.

“This might not be the right thing to say, buddy, but I
think you might look kind of…” Mina stretched back, forcing nonchalance, “well,
kind of handsome.”

Haruka bit her tongue. She leaned closer to the mirror,
covered the start of her braid with her hands, a poor approximation of how it
might look. “I wanna do it.”

“Okay.” Mina pulled out scissors and held them to the base
of the braid. “Ready?”

Haruka took a deep breath. “Ready.”

The scissors snipped, hacking through, once, twice, three
times, and – thump! The braid fell to the tile like a dead animal. The bob of
Haruka’s remaining hair fanned around her face. Her head felt light, the smallest
motion made easier and bigger without the weight of the braid. Mina trimmed it
shorter, then switched to the clippers.

“This might tickle some.”

Just the sound as she turned it on sent shivers up Haruka’s
back. It vibrated the air with a magic she’d lusted after through barber shop
windows. Mina ran it up her head from her neck, and Haruka had to fight to keep
still. She couldn’t mess up her chance to look how she dreamed.

Slowly more hair fell to the floor in feathery clumps, until
Mina turned off the clippers and dusted Haruka off. Haruka tried not to cry—the mirror
now showed a woman standing tall even in her giant hoodie, hair just long
enough to be fluffy on top but shaped on the sides. “Mina…” she swallowed hard.
“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, buddy. We’re only half done.”

Haruka had no more words of protest or question. Mina led
the way back to her room and threw open her closet.

Haruka’s breath caught as she pulled out a suit.

“I can’t promise it will fit great, men’s sizing isn’t the
same. But, you know, I tried and it should be close.” She rummaged through her
drawers and pulled out a brilliant navy tie and a matching masquerade mask.

“This is too much, I can’t accept…”

“If this is a money thing, Haruka, don’t worry. I’ve been
planning this long enough that I had time to get good deals.” She opened the
suit jacket to reveal a big red stain on the lining. “Somehow, this has been in
Goodwill for a long time, even though they insist it’s only ketchup.”

Haruka laughed in spite of her awe. “I ever tell you you’re
too good to me?”

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘Thank you Mina,
you’re the best and I’ll never doubt your judgement again.’”

“Thank you, Mina.”

Minako rolled her eyes. “Now, I’m going to change into my
vampire dress, and give you a moment. We’ll have to leave in a few.” She
grabbed her costume and vacated to the bathroom.

Haruka ran her hands along the suit sleeves. She’d worn men’s
clothes before, flying under the wire with hoodies and tee-shirts that weren’t
great but kept her from wanting to crawl out of her skin. This was something
else entirely. She rubbed at the base of her neck, where her braid had been
replaced with fuzz. She’d enter the dance a different person from the one who’d
left school that day. Even if it was only for tonight, she’d be the woman she’d
always dreamed of.

Slowly, she pulled off her sweatpants, then her hoodie. She
slid on the pants, happy to find them only slightly too short. She stole a pair
of black socks from Mina’s drawer to hide it. The shirt, on the other hand, was
long, but tucked in it made no difference. Haruka pulled on the jacket slowly,
suddenly worried it would make it all farcical, she’d be the ordinary gangly
girl, dressing up like someone she wasn’t. But it settled onto her shoulders, tight
but not too restrictive, and she turned to Mina’s full-length mirror with bated
breath.

It didn’t fit perfectly. But it wasn’t glaring, and she
looked… real. Or she felt real. She couldn’t think of how to say it. She
fumbled with the tie until Mina came back in.

“Damn, buddy, you clean up nice.”

Haruka chuckled, then choked into tears. “Will you help me?
I don’t know—“

Mina took the tie and stood behind her. “Now, you be sure to
tell everyone I’m very good with my hands.” She smoothed Haruka’s collar and
centered the knot. “The ladies are gonna eat their hearts out.”

“Do you think…” She hadn’t allowed herself to think too much
about anyone who might be at the dance, committed as she had been to not going.
But there was the girl, from homeroom, who’d sometimes caught her eye, and…

“Drag your gay ass back to earth now, buddy, you can either
dream or make it happen. If we don’t leave, we’ll be much more than fashionably
late.” She pulled the mask on Haruka’s head and they set out together into the
night.

The gym was pulsing and packed when they arrived. The only
lights came in flashing colors and through the door to the hall. Haruka pulled
at the ends of her jacket.

Mina rubbed her back. “Don’t worry buddy, you’re gonna be
great.”

“Nice suit, bro!” A footballer called as he passed.

Haruka swallowed. “They don’t recognize me.”

“Drastic haircuts and masks will do that. You okay?”

“Yeah I just… I feel different, too.”

Mina smiled. “Be who you wanna be, Haruka.” She paused. “Split
up or stay together?”

Haruka scanned the crowd, looking for the green hair of
homeroom girl. “Can we… Can I try being on my own?”

“Spread your gay little wings, buddy. You can find me if you
need me.”

 —–

Michiru wondered sometimes why she attended dances.
Homecoming and prom she understood—they were appearances, she would be crowned
Queen and have her picture in the papers, and her family would have one more
thing to brag to their friends about. But the mid-year frivolities… She sighed
and nodded as Rei chewed out a boy for asking her to dance. Why Rei came was perhaps
a bigger mystery– though she faced a different side of the same pressures as
Michiru, she was less apt to playing along. She knew Senator Hino oft wished he’d
had a son, so that his child might court the Kaioh prodigy rather than compete
with her. That Rei would have better luck as she was was lost on him.

Michiru supposed the night would go as it always did—accept a
dance from her homecoming king, and then a few from those who might be her
match for prom. Perhaps it all came down to training, the sweaty gym was the
young version of a high society gala, the attendees not yet skilled in hiding
their crude underbellies.

But then someone caught her eye. At first it seemed a boy in
a sharp costume, going for a formal masquerade rather than any of the silliness
others sported. But then she noticed the slight curve of chest and hip, the
uncertainty in movement, the charming line of the chin.

It was a girl, and a girl the way the partners of Michiru’s
dreams were girls. Their eyes met through her mask. There was something
familiar, though Michiru had never met anyone like her before. She rose from
her seat on the bleachers, not bothering to let Rei know where she as going. She
needed to know the stranger. She needed to meet this woman.

As if on cue, the dj announced the first slow song of the
night.

“Um, hi,” the other girl said as Michiru drew close.

Michiru could feel her nervousness. There was something
endlessly charming about it. “Hello.”

“Would you, well, would you like to dance with me?”

“I would.”

The butch’s hand was sweaty as she took Michiru’s, her
fingers shaking slightly. Michiru guided her other hand to her waist. As their
eyes met again, close enough to feel each other’s breath, Michiru felt a
familiarity she hadn’t expected.

“We’ve met, haven’t we?”

“Sort of.” She flushed red under her mask.

Michiru thought of the tomboy in homeroom, blushing whenever
the teacher called on her, playing with her long hair like she wanted to
disappear. Michiru had thought of her, looked at her, more than she cared to
admit. They’d sort of met, hadn’t they? Having never spoken, but seeing each other
every morning… Michiru ran her hand along the edge of the girl’s hair, wondering
how recently it had been cut. “I don’t want to be wrong about who you are.”

“Don’t guess.” Her eyes widened, like hearing the wrong name
might break her. “I think… Monday, if you want to find me, you’ll be able to.
And if you don’t, it’s okay.”

I’ll want to find you.
But Michiru said nothing and sank into the girl for the rest of the song. She
could feel their heartbeats mix in their fingertips, the other girl’s pounding hard
even as she got more confident in her movements.

“Tell me something that isn’t your name,” Michiru said
finally as the music faded into another DJ announcement.

“Um. My favorite color is blue, which I know isn’t original,
but it’s nice.” Michiru nodded for her to keep going. “And… I like flowers, but
not how people perceive liking flowers. Besides right now, running is about the
only time I really feel good.” She blushed again, and swallowed hard. “And
maybe this goes without saying, but in case it doesn’t, I’m… I like girls. And
I am a girl.”

Michiru stepped into what little space remained between
them. “I have one more question.”

The girl swallowed again. “Okay.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Her eyes went wide, but she nodded. Michiru stood on tip toe
and, gently as she could, placed her lips on hers. For a moment, the whole
world was still, narrowed down to the two of them.

Michiru rose a hand to the girl’s face as she pulled away. “I
want to know who you are.”

“I think you’ll be disappointed.”

“I don’t.” Though she wondered—if it wasn’t the girl she’d
been watching, would she be? “Whoever you are, I want to see you again.”

“Well. If that’s true, you’ll see me at school. And if– if
you still want to… you can ask me then.” She took Michiru’s hand and kissed her
knuckles. “I think I should leave. This… I want to keep this night beautiful.”

Before Michiru could protest, she was gone, taken from
Michiru’s sight in the crowd of bodies.

She closed her eyes, committing every second to memory. Come
Monday, she’d find the girl.