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.