Tag: sam writes

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Alright! My entry for the April Same Prompt Fic Party,

“The memory of you emerges from the night around me"

. I was a little ambitious this month, and was a little worried I wouldn’t finish. But, here it is. ETA: AO3 link

After

~2000 words
Warning for death and suicide thoughts. Bad ending/No Crystal Tokyo AU.

Haruka did not know how long she’d been walking. The sun had
set, but she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stay in the city in the middle of
everything and she’d thought she’d just go past the edge of the wreckage, but it went on for
miles and miles and still hadn’t ended. Maybe she’d walk forever, or until she
went straight into the ocean and stopped breathing. As long as she was moving,
she wasn’t thinking. So she just had to keep moving.

It had gotten easier since her leg stopped bleeding. Ami had
tried to bandage it, but Haruka had run. Let Ami treat the civilians, the
people who wanted to survive. There were orphaned children and broken children
and broken adults, Ami would have her hands full enough without trying to heal someone
as useless as her. Haruka felt dizzy now. The last fight had lasted two nights
and a day. When had she last slept? Ate? Did it matter?

She felt dizzier still when she saw an intact house in the
distance and recognized it. Her feet had taken to the shore. Of course their
beach cottage had survived. It made a terrible poetic sense. Michiru would have
been able to say something more eloquent about it. Haruka stopped. She hadn’t
meant to think that, but now it was there and it wouldn’t go away. The last stretch
of distance melted away.

 

She carried Michiru over the threshold. They hadn’t bothered
to change out of their wedding clothes; the train of her dress trailed over the
flower bed next to the door. “It doesn’t matter,” Michiru said when Haruka
apologized. “I hardly think I’ll have an occasion to wear a wedding dress
again.” She smiled the most beautiful smile Haruka had ever seen. The sea breeze
blew in and fluttered through the dirty train and Michiru’s hair. Haruka wished
she was the artistic one; the moment deserved to be a painting. She fumbled
around to find the camera she’d been sure to pack, but by the time she’d gotten
it out, the moment was gone.

The picture was beautiful, of course, it was of Michiru, but it wasn’t
the moment Haruka would remember forever.

The wind that blew in now was violent; crashing against the
windows and whistling through the cracks to make the curtains perform a ghostly
dance. The sea must have known what had happened. It was angry. But the wind is my domain. Haruka poured
herself a glass of scotch. The cupboards were still stocked; the place seemed
hardly touched. If she drank enough, maybe she’d forget the world was wrecked.
Maybe she’d forget that she was angry too.

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Michiru screamed. Her
voice filled the empty house, this was why she’d brought Haruka here instead of
home. There was no one here for her shouting to wake up.

“We can’t get
killed,” Haruka screamed back, even though it hurt with her bruised diaphragm. “That’s
what Crystal Tokyo means, doesn’t it? We can do whatever stupid shit we want,
and we’re never going to die, or get old, or anything for a thousand years!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do though! We’re frozen, Michiru! Other people are age
are having kids and getting wrinkles and growing gray hair, but not us.”

Michiru’s eyes went hard. “We have a daughter.”

“Pardon me for wanting one we never tried to kill, one that’s
actually, biologically, at least one of ours.”

“Don’t you ever let her hear you say that,” Michiru hissed.

The heat of anger swept out of Haruka as she realized what
she said. “I didn’t… I don’t mean… I love her, Michiru, I just…”

“Just what, Haruka? Just this isn’t good enough for you?
Maybe next time you get in a bar fight, don’t call me for your bailout then.”

Haruka drank deeply. The sting of alcohol made the sting of
tears less noticeable. Their suicide bomb of a daughter had ended it, had been
the only one who could. It wasn’t fair that the world had taken even Hotaru
from her. It wasn’t fair that part of Haruka wished they’d let Hotaru do it
right away. She was a child, frozen as a child. She should have gotten to grow
up. They should have been a normal family.

“Papa, look, Papa!” Hotaru gestured her paint covered hands
at her canvass. Haruka knelt to appreciate it closely. These past few months,
the cottage had become Michiru and Hotaru’s studio. Hotaru had no ear for
music, just as she had no feel for racing, but painting was her big connection
with her aqua-haired mother.

“It’s amazing,” Haruka said, meaning it.

“The apprentice will soon become the master,” Michiru said.
She graced down onto the couch with a smile. “You’ll have to start teaching me
soon.”

Hotaru pouted. “You’re lying.”

“Would that I were. All the galleries are going to start
replacing my work with yours. I’ll feel terribly jealous.”

“Michiru-mama!”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll find a way to live on, I’m sure.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Hotaru crossed her arms. “You’re
so weird.”

“And you’re our daughter, so what does that say about you?”
Haruka asked.

“That I take after Setsuna-mama.” Hotaru stomped away to her
bedroom. Haruka and Michiru dissolved into giggles as soon as her door shut.

“It’s not such a bad thing,” Haruka said quietly, “that we
get so many extra years of this.”

Michiru smiled. “I’m not so sure she’d agree with you right
now.” She kissed Haruka lightly and cuddled into her side. “But I do.”

Haruka shivered in the drafts of wind. She didn’t trust
herself to stand and walk long enough to find a blanket. Eating before drinking
would have been smart. Haruka hadn’t wanted to be smart. Haruka didn’t want to
be alone. You’re not alone, Ami had
tried to say before she’d ran off. We’ll
find Mina and we’ll get through this together. As if Mina hadn’t died with
Usagi. They might find Venus, sure, but never Mina. Haruka might have been able
to stay for Mina’s sake. But Venus and Uranus had no love for each other.

She poured another drink instead of moving. Scotch had
calories, right? It would either sustain her or kill her. She wasn’t sure which
she preferred.

Before she could drink, there was a knock at the door.

“You get it,” Haruka mumbled, pressing her face deeper into
her pillow. The sun was already bright through the curtains, but she wanted to
sleep hours more.

“It’s probably a salesman.” Michiru kissed her neck. “I’d
rather stay here.” Her kisses trailed down her back.

“Michiru…” Sleep dropped from Haruka’s mind.

The salesman knocked again, but no one answered.

A short figure stepped in. He paused when he noticed Haruka
sitting on the kitchen floor. “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was here. It’s the only
place I’ve seen that wasn’t…”

“You’re welcome here.” Haruka was surprised at her own enunciation.
“There’s food. And drink.” She raised her glass.

The old man looked at her. He took her scotch from her. “We
could all use a drink, I suppose.”

There was a gentle chastisement in his tone, but no
judgement. Slowly she recognized him. She should have drunk more, then maybe
she wouldn’t have.

“I didn’t want to stay in the city,” Grandpa Hino said,
sitting down. He drained her glass and poured himself another. “I thought that
if I left, I wouldn’t have to know.”

Haruka said nothing. He had to have seen the blaze, that
first day. He had to know what it meant, but she couldn’t grudge him for
pretending. “I thought if I left, I could forget.”

“You’ll never forget,” he said quietly. “I passed ninety
last year, and I haven’t managed to forget.” He put the scotch to his lips, but
then set it down. “There are some people we’re just not meant to lose.” They were
quiet for a moment, and then he got up and shuffled towards the back of the
house. He came back with a blanket. “No sense in getting pneumonia.”

“Maybe not.”

He looked at her, sharp and sad. “You said there was food?”

Michiru sat across from Haruka, eyes sparkling in the
candlelight. Haruka wasn’t the greatest of cooks, but she felt like she’d done
alright for tonight. The lamb was tender, the rice fluffed. It was, at least,
much better than last time, when she’d attempted lobster. She hopped the poor
thing had survived when she let it go into the ocean.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Do I need an occasion?” Haruka asked, though she had one. “I
did some digging. Today is thirty years since we first met.”

“At your track meet?” Michiru flushed. “I can’t believe you
figured that out.”

“It wasn’t so hard.” Haruka took her hand and kissed it. “It
feels like yesterday.”

Grandpa Hino set a bowl of hot noodles in front of her. “Eat.”

Haruka couldn’t find it in herself to disobey. They were
plain, but she was hungry enough that they tasted like heaven. Grandpa Hino sat
next to her with his own bowl. They ate in silence for a long while.

“I thought this wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said finally.
“I thought… No one ever told me, but you all had a future. Chibiusa…”

“It wasn’t set in stone.”

He stared into his bowl. “That’s the first thing you learn,
when you learn fortune telling. The future’s inconstant and changeable. But she
wasn’t an omen in the fire. She was a girl. She can’t have just…”

“She did.” Haruka didn’t mean to be curt, but she couldn’t be anything else. Not without breaking.

He shook his head. Tears dropped into his bowl. “I thought
you were invincible.”

“So did we.”

Grandpa Hino took a huge heave of a breath. “Tell me who’s
left.”

“Ami. And… Venus.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. She wasn’t saying anything
he didn’t know. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how important they were to you.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t protect them. Protect her.”

He forced a laugh through his tears. “She’ll come back to
haunt you for saying that. Or she would, if she didn’t have someone else who I’m
sure needs haunting.” He paused. “And you have your own ghosts to dispel.”

Haruka couldn’t respond for a long while. And when she did,
she knew it bordered on cruel, but she needed an answer. “How could you keep
going, after your daughter died?”

“I had Rei. She needed me. And I needed her.” His hands
shook. He pressed them too his eyes a long moment. “Ami and Mina need you.”

“Mina’s gone.”

“Bring her back.” Grandpa Hino stood to look her in the eye.
“I don’t know you that well, but I know them. Ami can’t hold together long by
herself. And Mina deserves to have someone fight for her.” His gazed softened. “Not
tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But you need to do it. I need you to do it.”

“Maybe,” was all Haruka could say.

The first night had blurred into the second day. Too many
monsters, no sign of the source. Rei was gone. They’d nearly lost Usagi then
and there, but Mako had picked her up and ran. But now there was nowhere to go,
and the lack of sleep was catching up to them.

It took Haruka a long moment to realize when time literally
stopped. Setsuna looked at her sadly. “Take Hotaru and run.” To Minako—“Lead
everyone somewhere safe, hide awhile, get some sleep.”

“Pluto…”

“It’s too late. Go.”

Haruka lifted Hotaru on to her back, but then she realized
who wasn’t taking off with them. “Michiru!”

“Someone has to hold them back longer,” she said evenly, but
there were tears in her eyes. “Hotaru won’t make it without you. Usagi won’t
make it without the rest. Please, Haruka. Please.”

Haruka stepped towards her, for one last kiss, one last
touch, one last anything, but Michiru turned away, towards the frozen oncoming
monster horde. “Go!”

Haruka ran, hating every step. She felt the moment, nearly
an hour later, when Michiru died. Mina squeezed her hand tight, nodded at her
tears, and they kept running.

Haruka woke up on the kitchen floor, the corners of her eyes
crusty with salt. Grandpa Hino’s snores came from the couch. She couldn’t bring
herself to get up, and she nearly reached for the scotch the still sat just
inches away.

But maybe, just maybe, Grandpa Hino was right, and another
day, she’d be able to do something. Ami and Mina deserved something.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Haruka’s Little Princess

So the April Ficlet Showers generator gave me  HARUKA and CHIBIUSA in the Crystal Palace, innocence | adoration. Was there anywhere to go with this besides Chibiusa/Hotaru and dorky papa Haruka? (probably).

~1000 words. Very fluffy.

Haruka stretched out her arms and stifled a yawn. Mina had
been kind enough to dismiss her early from the foreign policy meeting on the
grounds of her having “a not insignificant bias against a certain ambassador
from Kinmoku.” It was a bigger blessing than Haruka could have hoped for on a
Monday morning like this. Summer sunlight sparkled through the crystal halls.
She could go for a run, not a training run but a pleasure run, something she
hadn’t done in far too long.

But then there were footsteps, quick and hard. Haruka
reached for her sword. All of the other senshi were still in the conference
room. Which meant–

“Haruka! Wait!”

She relaxed. All of the senshi but one were still in the conference room. She turned and bowed to the
pink-haired girl. “Princess.”

“Nuh-uh.” Chibiusa crossed her arms. “None of that today. Do
you see a dress or a crown?” She gestured over her white button down and prim
skirt—oddly formal, but not royal. “I’m Usagi today. Just an ordinary person.”

Haruka suppressed a chuckle. “I see. And what does Usagi the
ordinary person want?”

Chibiusa clenched her fists. “I want to talk to you alone,
woman to woman!”

Haruka did laugh then. Chibiusa had grown up a lot, she had
to be at least the equivalent of twenty now, but even with senshi life she’d
kept so much of her childish innocence. “Did you ask Mina to let me out early,
then?”

“That would be an abuse of power!” Haruka didn’t respond, so
after a moment Chibiusa pouted. “So I’d definitely never officially admit to
such a thing. But that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” Chibiusa was not so much like her
mother that she’d do this for something insignificant. This was not a case of
wanting to sneak off to play video games or to bond over slacking off. Haruka
was certain it was something at least mildly important.

Chibiusa’s cheeks flushed pinker than her hair. “The point
is, you’re Hotaru’s papa. And Hotaru really likes those old romance books, the
kinds where everything is all proper and courtly and stuff. So I thought I
should follow that theme, to be special and everything.” She put her hands to
her chest, took a deep breath, and then looked up at Haruka with blazing
determination. “Ms. Tennou, I would like your permission to ask your daughter
for her hand in marriage!”

Haruka would have liked to have been able to say that she
played the part of the stern old father well, that she’d appraised Chibiusa
with a critical eye and had given some speech about treating her daughter
right. She’d certainly try to convince Hotaru that she’d done just that.

But in truth, of course, she burst into tears and scooped
Chibiusa up in her arms. “I can’t believe the two of you are old enough for
this,” she sobbed into Chibiusa’s shoulder. “It seems like just yesterday
Hotaru was a little baby and—“

“Haruka, it’s literally been a thousand years—“

“But I know you adore her, and she loves you, so she’s going
to say yes, and you’re going to make her so so happy.” Haruka sniffled hard and
set Chibiusa down. “Who all knows?”

Chibiusa straightened her skirt. “Well, Mina, of course,
since I needed her to help me get you alone, and Mama, because god forbid I
keep anything a secret from her, and then Mako’s helping me plan the perfect
asking.”

More tears welled in Haruka’s eyes. Mako had helped her ask
Michiru, too, choosing the best flowers and the best food, and Mina had helped
her dress, and god, Hotaru, her little princess, was going to be so happy, just
as happy as she had been when Michiru had said yes, and—

“You can’t tell Michiru or Puu.”

Haruka gave a start. “I can’t keep a secret like this from
Michiru!”

Chibiusa furrowed her brow. “You can and you will, on official
command from your princess. Hotaru will want to tell her herself. And I want us
to tell Puu together.”

“I hope you’re doing it soon, then.” She gave it a week, if
not sooner, before Michiru cracked her.

“Tomorrow night.” That at least sounded possible. Surely she
could hold out one night. “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower. Mako’s
cooking a dinner for me to take down to the park.”

Haruka smiled. “She’ll love that. And the ring?”

Chibiusa fumbled into her skirt pocket to pull out the box.
It was a simple ring, the silver band connecting in an infinity sign rather
than a jewel—living in a crystal city made gems somewhat less of a specialty.

“It’s perfect.”

“I hope so.” She slipped it back into her pocket. “Everyone
will be coming out soon. Remember to keep your mouth shut.”

“I will, I will.”

“Okay.” Chibiusa’s face relaxed and she smiled. “Thank you,
Haruka.” She blinked away a little shine of tears before turning back down the
hall.

“Wait, one last thing.”

“Hm?”

Haruka couldn’t fight the grin off her face. “You’re gonna
make my little princess an actual princess.”

Chibiusa laughed. “I am.” She pointed back sternly. “Don’t
let it go to your head!”

“Too late!”

Haruka could not be sure she’d ever smiled for so many hours
in a row before. By sunset her cheeks had begun to hurt, but she could not
stop. Every time she saw Hotaru or Chibiusa, or a flower or the sun or her own
wedding ring, her heart got floaty. Married,
her little Hotaru was going to be married.

“What are you so happy about?” Michiru asked as they climbed
into bed. “If getting out of meetings is going to make you this delirious, I’ll
have to make Mina excuse you more often.”

“It’s not that.” Haruka kissed her wife, smiling all the
while. “You have to wait and see.”

Michiru giggled as Haruka moved way down her neck. “It’s not
like you to keep secrets.”

“This one’s worth it. It really, really is.”

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Very brief entry for the fic party. Between my thesis and vacation, I didn’t have a lot of time to dedicate to this, but I wanted to get something out. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Wet Toes

812 Words

Haruka has always been afraid of the water, but Michiru has something she wants Haruka to experience.

Haruka watched as Michiru stood in the tide, rising andfalling with every wave as easily as she breathed. She could feel Michiru’sbreath now the way she could feel the sea when she listened to Michiru fallingasleep so nights. Coming to the beach with her had become one of Haruka’s
favorite little day-cations. This was the first clear day of spring. The sun
beat down warm enough to make the sand hot under Haruka’s towel. Michiru looked
back at her. Her hair blew around her face like a halo, like a flower blooming
from the waters of melted snow.

She padded back across the sand as though the heat didn’t
bother her. “You’re coming in with me today.”

Haruka pushed her sun glasses up into her hair. “You know I
don’t swim.”

“I do know.” Michiru smiled. “But I’m not asking you to
swim.”

“I don’t do water.” She didn’t remember why, not quite.
Maybe something had happened. Maybe she’d heard the wrong story at the wrong
time when she was young. But Haruka did not swim, did not wade. She’d go on
boats easily enough, and, as she had to insist to Mina countless times, could
bathe without a problem. Just nothing bigger than a bathtub.

Michiru knelt down next to her. Haruka hugged her knees and
tried to keep looking grumpy, but she felt her face soften when Michiru put her
hand over hers. “Do you see the line, where the water hasn’t reached any
higher?”

“Mm.”

“I want you to stand right there. Just on the line.”

“I’m not a toddler,” Haruka said, ready for her mother’s old
rebuttal that she was, otherwise she’d just get in the damn water already.

But Michiru just said, “I know,” and pulled her up. “But I’ve
been in the sky with you, so I want you to be in the sea with me, even if only
a little.” She squeezed her hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

It was only her toes. Haruka could be brave with her toes,
certainly. Definitely. No doubt. She was Haruka Tennoh, Sailor Uranus, who
faced monsters and death and countless horrors with hardly a blink, she could
get her feet wet without fear. But she found herself swallowing down a lump
that had formed in her throat as she looked out at the endless mass of crashing
water. “Alright.”

Michiru was rarely as gentle as she was now. She let Haruka
set the pace, which was admittedly unthinkably slow for the soldier of speed.
She did not tug or dance ahead or even talk. She breathed slow and deep and
Haruka tried to follow her example, but her pulse kept getting faster as the
water got closer and she kept catching her breaths going fast and shallow.

But she refused to stop. She’d go slower than the crabs that
occasionally meandered out of their little hole homes, but she wouldn’t stop.
The line was only a few feet away. One foot. One step. She put both feet on the
line. Michiru stood next to her, and they waited. The waved slid in and out,
creeping closer and stopping short and sliding back to smaller waves over and
over until Haruka was sure that she’d never get wet at all. Her shoulders
relaxed. And that, of course, was the moment the water slid up and over her
toes.

She gasped; it was cold, it was the ocean, but it was also Michiru.
It was morning coffee and the feeling of snuggling next to her in bed and the
way her eyes drooped when she was tired. It was the way she played the violin
and the sound of her voice. Her paintings and her breath and the way she looked
at things she liked as though she’d like to absorb them but could not touch
them. And it was a thousand other things Haruka had never noticed or felt
before. She felt, for a moment, that she knew her fully, more than she even
knew herself.

As quick as it had come, the water receded, sinking Haruka’s
feet into the sand as it took grains with it. “Is this how you feel when we’re
in the air together?” How many times had they been in the helicopter? Or
anywhere the wind was strong?

“Not every time. Not even close to most of the time. But
enough to hope you could feel it too.” She raised Haruka’s hand and kissed it.

It was like having their first kiss over again, but fearless
and closer. Haruka moved her free hand to brush Michiru’s hair from her face. “Thank
you.” She kissed her forehead. “Maybe, another day, I’ll go in farther.”

Michiru smiled. “I doubt that. But this is enough.” She
rested her head on Haruka’s shoulder. “I’m glad you can meet me like this.”

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

I intended to write something fluffy and Outers Family-Oriented for Michiru’s birthday, but somehow I ended up writing this instead.

We Could Pretend

1219 Words

On Michiru’s birthday, Haruka makes a suggestion Michiru knows she should refuse.

Set during or a little before S. Not a particularly happy fic.

Read on AO3 here or under the cut.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains as she opened her eyes. She lie still for a long while, feeling the bruises still forming from the battle the night before.

There was a knock on her door.  “Michiru? Are you awake?”

“Yes, what’s wrong?” She sat up quickly. “Do you sense a Daimon?” She didn’t feel anything, but maybe sleep was clinging to her mind and keeping her from noticing what Haruka sensed. That was why they’d decided to live together, anyway. Easier to keep constant vigilance.

“No, no, don’t worry. Nothing’s happening. Er, nothing bad.” She heard Haruka shuffle her feet against the carpet. “Do you want to come out?”

“One moment.”

She made her bed and padded out to the living room. Haruka stood fidgety paper banner that read “Happy Birthday, Michiru” in big sloppy letters. Haruka’s marker had clearly started to die by the time she’d gotten to the “iru.” A large vase of roses sat next to a modest gift bag on the coffee table.

“It’s, uh, it’s not much, but—“

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done anything.”

“What just because we’re going to… just because of what we are, we can’t have birthdays?” Haruka’s tone started off joking but ended in a real question. Her smile faltered. The sadness in her eyes hurt worse than any Daimon punch.

“No, I only meant… I don’t really celebrate my birthday. And we didn’t do anything for yours. I didn’t, I mean.”

Haruka laughed. “That doesn’t matter. And I already got you something, so you can celebrate it at least this once, right?”

“I suppose,” she said, as if she could ever really say no. Haruka was still easily disappointed, she still knew how to be happy. Michiru was robbing her of that piece by piece, with every battle and every assurance that they would kill whoever they needed to, but she refused to take another piece now.

They sat together on the couch, a little closer than they should have been; Michiru feeling obligated no to move away and Haruka, perhaps, feeling like closeness was another gift Michiru wanted. Michiru longed to regain plausible deniability on that. Every time Haruka did something to oblige her feelings, she cursed herself for confessing. She’d known better. She’d always known better.

“Like I said,” Haruka started, setting the gift bag between them, “It’s not much, but I did my best.”

Michiru pulled apart the tissue paper slowly, ready to fake delight. She’d rarely gotten real gifts over the past several years, but none of them had particularly pleased her. Expensive brushes, a new violin, whatever else her parents bought all were very nice, very useful, but very predictable. Haruka hadn’t gotten her anything like that, but she still expected the worst. She felt almost validated when she unearthed a slender box that surely contained jewelry. A cold gift, and hardly a thoughtful one.

But then she opened it.

It was a silver bracelet, a little clunky and a little gaudy, with four charms clipped on—a seashell, a paintbrush, a music note, and a horse. Michiru stared down at it for a long moment.

“I know it’s not really your style, but you have everything and I… I tried to make it something special.” Haruka’s checks flushed red.

Michiru should have assured her she loved it, she should have immediately plastered a smile on her face like she was trained to do. But she stared for another moment and then asked, “Why the horse?”

Haruka cleared her throat and fixed her eyes somewhere over Michiru’s head. “Well, I heard this story, that Poseidon, ruler of the sea, created horses, and so that’s very you. But horses also race, so.” She let her eyes meet Michiru’s for a split second. “So.”

Michiru felt her chest crest over itself and crash down into her stomach. “Will you put it on me?”

Haruka’s unsteady fingers fidgeted with the clasp for longer than it would have taken Michiru to put it on with one hand. But Michiru didn’t comment. “I forgot to say thank you.”

Haruka looked up at her through her bangs. She dropped one end of the bracelet. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

Haruka got the loops to hook together, but she kept looking down. “Michiru?”

“Hm?”

“I know…” She cleared her throat. Her voice stayed rough anyway. “I know we can’t, and I know we don’t deserve anything, with what we’re going to do. But maybe… It’s your birthday. One day.” She traced Michiru’s skin around the bracelet with her finger. “We could pretend.”

“Haruka…” You deserve everything. I’m the one who dragged you into this, I’m the one… But Haruka looked up just then, still so open, still absolutely raw. If Michiru had been a better person, she would have endured hurting Haruka now to save her later. She would have thought about what would happen come tomorrow, how much more it would hurt Haruka, how much more it would chip away at her, how much harder, too, it would be if she needed to abandon Neptune to pain or death to complete their mission.

But Michiru hadn’t been a good enough person to keep Haruka from being a senshi.

And she wasn’t good enough to say no to her now.

Michiru kissed Haruka, both of them soft and hesitant. Haruka laced the fingers of one hand with hers, and put the other on the back of her neck, thumb brushing into her hair. For the first time in years, Michiru felt a real urge to cry.

She broke away and pressed her face into Haruka’s shoulder. She wouldn’t cry, Michiru Kaioh did not cry. And how would Haruka feel, if kissing her made her cry? She shut her eyes tight against the tears and breathed in deep breaths tinged with Haruka’s cologne.

“Are you okay?”

“You…” Michiru stopped. The truth would unravel everything. You’re amazing, and I love you. I will do everything I can to keep the blood on my hands, not yours. But she couldn’t promise anything, and Haruka had to be prepared. Hope was the worst thing she could give her. “You’re my first kiss.” A different truth, easier than a lie.

“Oh. You’re mine, too.” Haruka’s hand moved further into her hair and rubbed gently against the base of her skull. Michiru had had a nanny who did that when she was very young to put her to sleep. “Was I very bad?”

“No. Quite the opposite.” Michiru felt herself smile before she recognized there was a part of her that was happy. She closed her eyes again and let herself pretend that was all there was. Haruka rested her head on top of hers. Michiru hoped she was pretending, too. “We could go somewhere for breakfast.”

“And then we could walk through the park. Like a real date.”

“Something like that,” Michiru said, and already she saw it falling apart.

—-

She slipped the bracelet into her jewelry box before she went to bed, and in the morning she saw Haruka’s eyes fall on her naked wrist. “I have a premonition there will be a Daimon attack today,” Michiru said without a good morning. She fixed her eyes on the ground. She couldn’t watch as she broke Haruka that little bit more. “Today might be the day.”

Pretty Guardian Sailor Venus – Chapter 3 – sittingoverheredreaming – Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Code Name: Sailor V [Archive of Our Own]

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I’m finally updating this! I didn’t realize it had been so long, I feel bad. But I’ve gotten into more of a routine this semester, so I should update it more frequently now.

Pretty Guardian Sailor Venus – Chapter 3 – sittingoverheredreaming – Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Code Name: Sailor V [Archive of Our Own]

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

I promised myself this month I’d give the Same-Prompt Fic Party a try, and I did! The result is fluffier than I originally intended, but here it is.

The Two of Us, and Chocolate

(1165 Words)

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Michiru smiled at her princess over her tea. A little whipped cream still clung to Usagi’s upper lip, but that was the only trace left of the milkshake she’d gotten barely five minutes ago. Questions were a standard when they went out just the two of them. Usually, it was simple matters, like what lipstick does Michiru use and could she help Usagi pick a dress for her next date? Or there’s a fancy party for Mamoru’s school, what can Michiru tell her about etiquette besides the necessity of avoiding “juice?” On a rare occasion, it was senshi business. She was certain that’s not the case today.

“Well, you know how you and Haruka are both girls?”

“I do indeed.”

“Well, so then who buys who chocolates on Valentine’s Day?”

Michiru let out a laugh. “I don’t think either of us has bought each other chocolates on Valentine’s Day. We usually—“

“No chocolates?” Usagi shot up from her chair in horror. “But I thought… I thought you two…” Her eyes were wide. “I thought you two were dating! I thought you were in love!”

Michiru blinked. “We are.”

“But how can you have love without chocolate? Chocolate is love. Love is chocolate.” She grasped Michiru’s hands. “She needs to know you love her.”

“Haruka has quite enough candy without me buying her more.”

“I’m sure that’s not what Haruka thinks.” She tugged Michiru out of her chair with surprising strength for someone so small. “You have to buy her some right now! Valentine’s day is tomorrow!” She dragged her towards the door.

“Usagi…” She sighed and resigned herself. “We haven’t paid.”

“Oh.” Usagi stopped and dug around for her wallet.

—–

The moment they walked in the door, Michiru knew there was no way they were walking back out with only chocolate for Mamoru and Haruka. The decadent smell of baking chocolate that wafted through the air was enough to tempt Michiru. And what could tempt Michiru could make Usagi drool like Pavlov’s dog.

She made a beeline for the free samples. Michiru trailed behind. Chocolates had always seemed a trite gift to her; if she gave something impermanent, she wanted it to be an experience, something at least worth remembering. Maybe it was narrow minded to exclude chocolate from that. Usagi, at least, would think it worthwhile. And Haruka did like chocolate, even though she enjoyed Michiru’s usual Valentine’s gifts.  

“One sample per customer,” the sales lady snapped. Usagi pouted and slumped back towards Michiru.

“So what does Mamoru like?”

“He likes anything, but especially dark chocolate. What about Haruka?”

Michiru laughed. “If it’s sweet, she’ll eat it.”

“Ah,” Usagi nodded. “Haruka has good taste.” She cast her eyes around the store. “There’s lots of sweets… Look! We can build our own gift bags!”

Michiru didn’t pretend to be surprised when Usagi began filling two, one with dark truffles and the other with every flavor available. Michiru opened one and considered her options. Peanut butter was a definite, as was cherry. And… she sprinkled in a few sea salt with a smile.  

Usagi frowned. “What does salt chocolate taste like?” 

“You’ll have to find out.” She put a handful in the top of Usagi’s bag and then took it by the handles.  “Are you ready?”

She put one last chocolate in Mamoru’s bag. “Ready!” She followed Michiru to the counter. “But you don’t have to buy that one, Michiru, I—“

“You’re helping me out, so it’s only natural that I should treat you.”

“But that means you’re buying me Valentine’s chocolates before Haruka!”

“Oh dear, you’re right.” She put her hand on her chin to look pensive as the cashier ran her card. “I suppose I’ll just have to hold onto them until after I give Haruka hers.”

Usagi’s face fell, but she took a deep breath and nodded. “It’s the only thing to do.”

Michiru handed Usagi her bag after they finished paying. “I think Haruka will understand.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

The bag was half empty by the time Michiru dropped her off at home.

—–

Haruka’s car was in the drive when she arrived. She slipped the gift bag into her purse before going inside. “I’m home.”

Haruka wrapped her arms around her, buried her face in her hair. “You smell like chocolate.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. What were you two up to?”

“Oh, a little this, a little that.”

“Michiru…” Haruka’s voice rose into almost a whine.

“Don’t you want to be surprised?”

“No.”

Michiru smiled and slid onto the couch. “She said that if I loved you, I had to buy you Valentine’s chocolate.”

Haruka plopped down next to her. “She’s right. Chocolate is love.”

Sometimes their little similarities astounded Michiru. “Oh? Are you saying I haven’t loved you enough?”

“You’ve loved most of me plenty. But my stomach… my stomach has felt woefully neglected without chocolate on Valentine’s Day.” She kissed her lightly. “You don’t taste like chocolate.”

“Perhaps we should fix that.” She pulled the gift bag out of her purse. She gave one truffle to Haruka and began unwrapping one for herself.

“But it’s not Valentine’s Day yet.”

“Then I’ll just have to buy you more tomorrow.”

Haruka smiled and unwrapped her truffle. “You’ll have to wait until the afternoon though. A delivery’s coming for you in the morning.” She popped the chocolate in her mouth and licked the melted bits off her fingers. “Mako says love is flowers.”

“You buy me flowers all the time.”

“But those aren’t special enough, apparently. I had to make a message in flower language. Couldn’t even use roses.” Haruka laughed. “They could convince us to buy anything in the name of love, couldn’t they?’

“Then, knowing Mina and Rei, we should prepare for many dildos and a wedding at the shrine.”

“And Ami?”

“I think Ami knows better than to say love’s about the trappings.” Michiru leaned her head against Haruka’s shoulder. “I think she knows love’s just about the two of us.”

Haruka reached for another candy. “Well, the two of us, and chocolate.”

Hello! Randomly popping into your inbox to say that I’m super curious about the tags on your most recent post (the otpprompts one) about the Silver Millennium! If it wouldn’t be giving away the plot of a fic to come in the future, I’d really like to hear more of your views on the SilMil!

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Ohmygosh Hi! I’m really flattered that you want to know  more! I absolutely don’t mind sharing my thoughts, since I feel like with  SilMil fics, the fun is in the details rather than the broad strokes.
I have to preface this by saying that I’m terrible and mix canons for my
headcanon, so I tend to end up going with manga/new myu SilMil but an
anime-based 20thcentury.
I see SilMil Uranus and Neptune being a lot like Haruka and Michiru, except
Uranus is even more headstrong and reckless and Neptune adheres absolutely to
her duty. Uranus needs people and feels like having this power means she needs to
protect people, and there haven’t been any outside threats for god knows how
many years, so why should she stay in her castle so far away from everyone? She
makes visits to the Moon often enough that she’s nearly as close to Serenity as
her guardians are. Venus hates her
for it. She has literally one job, and she’s not doing it. But she also envies her ability to disregard all she’s supposed to be, so she can’t
bring herself to make her stop (she absolutely could make Uranus toe the line,
with physical/magical force or with disciplinary action through Queen
Serenity).
Neptune, meanwhile, does stay alone in her castle, with only her mirror for
company. The mirror could show her a lot of things, but like a good soldier,
she only uses it for her duty. She looks for intruders from outside the solar
system.
But the war between Moon and Earth is coming, and without the Silver Crystal,
there will be nothing to draw threats for thousands of years. So what she sees
are flashes of the Death Busters. Maybe Galaxia on occasion. And she sees
herself fighting them, alongside the woman she’ll love. She doesn’t know when
they’ll meet, but they have the same duty, so surely, someday, they’ll be
together.
Then the War happens. Neptune feels when the first senshi dies, and then
another. She does not leave her post, her duty was drilled into her, she will
stay. But when she feels a third senshi die, she casts her mirror to watch.
Uranus is with them, fighting. Uranus is with them, dying. She sees it this
time along with feeling it.
Serenity dies, and then the Queen.
Neptune’s duty means nothing now.  It
never meant anything, her kingdom burned and she stood by. Any future she’d hoped for was gone.
She leaves for the first time since she was stationed. She doesn’t expect to
find anyone alive on the moon, but she finds Saturn.  

Pluto, Reincarnation, and the Time Gate

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

I’ve been sitting on these thoughts for a while, and it’s  always surprised me that I’ve never seen them written out by anyone else. Possibly  it’s because my Pluto thoughts skew towards the manga/myu canon than the anime(which is most likely due to my inability to ever get through watching R, since  I default to the anime for almost everything else).

So, with that in mind, I’ve decided to lay out my headcanon
on how Setsuna can exist.

Theoretically, Pluto should be able to experience time in
any order she wants, but canon leads us to believe that she sticks to linear
experience from the moment she is stationed to the moment she leaves the Gate
to save Chibiusa. I think this mostly has to do with how much her duty and her
pride in it is engrained in her; Pluto believes in the rules she was given
absolutely. There’s no reason she can’t leave and travel back in time to the
moment she left, except that leaving the Gate is “taboo.” Not a taboo that
results in death—stopping time is the only one shown to do so—but one she
believes in nonetheless. Queen Serenity gave her these rules, and she will
follow them absolutely, even to the point where she almost kills Sailor Moon on
site. She knows exactly who Sailor
Moon is, there’s no way she doesn’t, but she believes in her duty so fully that
she will eliminate anyone who trespasses.

Except Chibiusa. And Chibiusa’s friends.

There’s no rule Pluto doesn’t break for Chibiusa. She loves
this little girl so much that she sacrifices everything she is for her, first
her duty and then her life.

This is the first time Pluto dies. She survived the fall of
the Silver Millennium. But I think Queen Serenity’s final wish extended to
Pluto, even though she was removed from the battle. So even though she lived
several millennia longer than the others, her soul is still sent to be
reincarnated in the same approximate moment.

And maybe Queen Serenity intended that to happen. Because
since Pluto was sent back in time, rather than forward or being reborn
immediately like Hotaru/Saturn at the end of Infinity, Setsuna is born in a
time when Pluto still lived. Until the 30th Century, when Pluto leaves
the Time Gate, there is someone
guarding it. Which means Setsuna and the Pluto she is having a thousand years to
be a normal person and a normal senshi.
She gets to have a family and friends, and everything she ever missed.

She’ll have to resume her duty, of course. There must always
be someone guarding the Time Gate, and I think Pluto believes it must always be
her.

The Way She Is

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

I’m supposed to be writing for school, but this came out of nowhere instead.

A young Haruka tries wearing the girls’ uniform to school. It doesn’t go well.
~1000 words, vaguely sad backstory fic/drabble.

Haruka is twelve, and girls are pretty.

More than pretty, really;her mother grudgingly gave her the birds and the bees talk two months ago—yet another joy of puberty—and Haruka knows, sheknows that she doesn’t feel the things her mother described, or not the way she
described them, at least.

She looks in the mirror
now. Everyone had always said it would happen. With a haircut like that, you’ll be lucky if your daughter doesn’t end
up a d–… Why don’t you wear the girl’s uniform, Haruka, people are going to
think… They were wrong, it was just what she felt comfortable in, but now… now
they aren’t wrong.

She rummages through her
mother’s drawers to find a headband. With it and the school uniform, she can’t
see any difference between herself and the rest of the girls at school, even
with her hair so short. She looks like them. She looks normal.

Haruka wears it to
school, to see if it makes a difference.

“Haruka!” her friend Yuko
calls when she gets to class. “You look so nice today!”

It is all she can do to not
to run back out the door.

Yuko and Kaori fawn over
her headband, and her skirt, and why doesn’t she wear this every day? She can’t
explain the lump that has formed in the pit of her stomach to them. She’s used
to everyone’s eyes being on her—she’s the prince of the first years, after all—but
now it feels wrong. And Kaori is still pretty, even with the transformative
powers of the skirt.

She finds herself
wondering if the skirt harms or improves her chances.

If it improves them,
she’s not sure it’s worth it.

That was the opposite of
the point, anyway.

Kaori asks if she’s going
to grow her hair out now. Haruka’s no
is harsher than she intended, but also it isn’t. These are her friends, not her parents, didn’t they
choose her as she really is? Didn’t they choose the Haruka Tennoh who wore
pants and loved racing the way they loved idols?

Kaori pouts. “But you’d
look like an actual girl with long hair.”

She leaves. Class hasn’t
even started, but she’s done. She can’t do a full day of this. Outside, she
hides under the bleachers to watch the gym classes run. It’s calming, not as
calming as running herself would be, but it’s the best she can do in this skirt
and these shoes. Her legs start to scream from crouching, but she can’t bring
herself to move. She’d get caught if she moved now, and the last thing she
needed was to be stuck in detention today. In the break between classes, she
lets herself sit down in the dirt. It’s good no one can see her; she can’t figure
out how to sit without exposing her boxers.

Her finger draws
nonsensical patterns in the dirt and she wonders what she really wanted today.
Her reaction to Kaori proved she didn’t really want to change, didn’t it? An
alternate scene pops into her mind. Yuko and Kaori see her and are horrified. “But
Haruka,” Kaori says, “we like you the way you are. I like you the way you are.”

Haruka draws stick
figures in the dirt to represent this. Then she draws herself and Kaori in a
car, riding towards the sunset. The car looks more like a box on lopsided
wheels. Never mind that there’s a twelve year old behind the wheel. She wipes
the foolish fantasy away with her foot.

Haruka sneaks away at
midday and walks home. Her stomach sinks when she sees her mother is there,
waiting. Of course the school let her know she was skipping. Of course she
would leave work for this. Haruka isn’t sure if she dreads punishment or her
mother’s reaction to the girl’s uniform more.

The yelling comes first.
She is a delinquent, she is ruining her mother’s life. She’s heard it all
before. But before the “No phone, no running, no television for a week,” before
the normal threats of being kicked out or sent away, her mother stops. “At
least you’re finally dressing normal.”

“This’ll never happen
again.”

“You have a
choice anymore. If I’m going to get called out of work because you’ve skipped
class or failed a test every few days, you’re going to at least look like the daughter I wanted.”

Haruka doesn’t bother to
fight the exaggeration. She had the sneaking suspicion that she’d find most of
her clothes gone from her closet when she looked. But she’d been resourceful
before, she could be resourceful again. Make a deal with a boy at school to
pretend to be slower than him in exchange for a spare uniform, steal a pair of
safety scissors to cut her hair in the school bathroom, she’d make it work.

But she thinks of Yuko
and Kaori. Does everyone want her this way?

She retreats to her room
and lies on her bed. The only exception she can think of is her aunt, her aunt
who lives in Tokyo and said on her last visit that really, these small town
people are so behind, there are plenty of girls in the city like Haruka. It has
been years since then, probably because Haruka’s mother took that as an insult,
but it stuck with Haruka.

Is it just this place?

Is there somewhere that
would feel right?

Yes, says a voice inside her, quiet but as strong as the sea.

Haruka packs right then
and there. There isn’t much to take— a pair of pajamas, the one pair of pants
left in her closet, the souvenir toy car from the first race her father took
her to. She makes herself include a photo of her and Yuko and Kaori, because
maybe someday, they’ll feel right again. The contents of her piggy bank are
dismal, but it should be enough for a bus ticket and some food. Hopefully her
aunt in Tokyo will want a roommate for a little while. Hopefully, the city will
be different.

Haruka is twelve, and she
is running.