Oh man I’ve never explored their dynamic before, and this inspired me to, and I hope you don’t mind but it’s kind of… pure smut. So, nsfw, warnings for violence and power play, and general smuttiness. Only a bit over 500 words.
There are ways of dealing with power, Beryl has learned. She’d done well with Serenity, the first time, and poorly with Metallia, and now there is Galaxia. She is something different. She has cosmic power, yes, Beryl wants it, but there is something more. Dominion, over the one with power, and she knows how to do it.
It is strange to think that Queens of Darkness sleep, but Beryl knows they do. She has seen the Golden Queen do up her hair in the morning, seen her stretch and yawn, secret peeks at a world yet unknown to her. So she sneaks through the labyrinth of twisted Space, around and around until she finds the place no soldier has been allowed access to. Galaxia stands with her back to the door, the first piece of her plate armor glinting at her feet.
“You seek to murder me,” she says without turning.
“I seek much more than that.”
Galaxia turns, exposing her teeth in a sharp smile. Beryl’s eyes rove over the rest of what is exposed. It is strange to see her soft and vulnerable, nothing but flesh to protect her. Though perhaps that is more than enough protection. Looking at the curve of her breasts, Beryl feels reluctant to mar them.
“Your use could be considered expired,” Galaxia says, leaning back against the metal frame of her bed. Her back arches the slightest bit, a deliberate invitation. “You have awakened the Moon clan, and I don’t make a point in keeping soldiers who rebel.”
“So it’s kill or be killed.”
“Perhaps.” Galaxia tilts her head. “She who lets her guard down shall be lost.”
“Indeed.” Beryl lets it sit a moment before slowly lifting the hem of her dress, up and up as Galaxia’s eyes follow. She removes the knife at her garter and tosses it aside.
Galaxia cocks an eyebrow. Beryl keeps her smile to herself. Power and vulnerability are a delicate balance. She pulls off the garter, too, for good measure. Galaxia in turn slides off one gilded boot slowly.
“The bracelets are you weapon, are they not?”
They are cast aside, easier than Beryl would have liked. If Galaxia parts with them so easily, there are other threats. But as she slips out of the rest of her armor, Beryl finds it hard to keep that in mind. She undoes her zipper and steps out of her dress. Whether it’s the lack of other hidden weapons that makes Galaxia’s eyes linger, or something else is hard to say, but Beryl approaches her regardless.
She straddles Galaxia, feels her hands begin to rove. Beryl lets her throw her onto the bed, lets her rake her nails over her body before pulling her down into a kiss. Galaxia reciprocates with all the ferocity Beryl craves, there is no gentleness in her touch, only desire. Beryl lets her hands begin to explore, from Galaxia’s battle-hard shoulders to the soft underside of her breasts, down and down and—
Galaxia has a blade at her neck, summoned from nothing.
It is hard to fight the smile now, literally on the edge of a knife.
“I can always do it,” Galaxia hisses in her ear. “I hold your life in my hands.”
And yet you are not holding my corpse. Beryl pushes the knife away and pulls her back in. She has won the night.
Oh man this brought back an old idea I had years ago and never wrote, so I ran with it a little.
There had to be something wrong with the map. Haruka slowed to examine it once again. This was supposed to be a scenic detour, just a reroute to show her more of the countryside as she passed through. But now her phone was dead and the sun was setting behind the ever thickening trees and she hadn’t seen a gas station or any sign of life for god knew how long.
According to the map, she should have passed two small towns by now.
She wasn’t lost. Haruka didn’t get lost. She had a great sense of direction and—
And her low fuel light was on.
Shit.
There had to be something around. She was not yet in the part of the country when she could go fifty miles without so seeing so much as a truck stop. She couldn’t have misread the map that badly.
And there it was— faint light glimmering like hope in the distance. She just had to make it there, and someone would help her, or at least let her charge her phone.
Her rusty pickup sputtered to a stop, but Haruka’s spirits were buoyant now. She sprung out from behind the wheel, locked it up, and jogged towards the light.
She slowed as she approached. It was an old-style mansion set into the trees, dark but for one window. Haruka could make out one stooped shadow through the curtains— that was lucky, old ladies often had a soft spot for her. Always wanted to feed her up, and she always needed it.
No one answered her knock at the door, but it opened at Haruka’s touch. If the poor old broad lived alone, she’d take time to make it down stairs. There couldn’t be any harm in just stepping in from the night. Haruka unlaced her boots and left them by the door. The floor was cold under her socks, but clean. Someone had to come to tidy, then. Maybe the old womans’ children. Haruka smiled at her idea of what went on. The old woman’s son came once a week or so to help out, but spent so much time cleaning the many rooms that the old lady felt lonelier than ever. She’d be delighted by Haruka’s unexpected company, she’d pinch her cheeks and promise her son, who had a bigger, nicer truck, could give Haruka a tow to the next town.
The thought made Haruka comfortable, so she began to explore while she waited for the lady to make it downstairs. Down the hall was a sitting room with a crackling fire. It bore only one chair. Haruka sat on the floor, feeling a slight twinge of sadness. Perhaps the old lady just hired someone to clean, and had no reason to expect anyone to sit and talk with her. She’d definitely be glad to have someone, but—-
Amidst the cracks and pops of the fire, Haruka heard a distinct slither.
She turned, thinking snake, thinking things that crawled in the night, the hair on the back of her neck standing at full attention, but there was nothing.
She may have imagined it. She turned back.
Something that was not a snake and was not any old lady rushed her from the shadows, lifting her by the shoulders and pinning her to the far wall.
It was like a snake, with a long tail and body that together were probably twice Haruka’s height, and it was like a woman also, though age was impossible to say. Hair hung limp in greasy green patches from its scalp. It’s skin was paled to gray and the contours of its face were exaggerated far past bony. The hands that held Haruka to the wall bore claws. Its eyes, though… There was something frighteningly human in its big blue eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Its voice was a raspy hiss. “No man may trespass upon my house.”
“I-I’m sorry.” Haruka’s heart beat so hard in her throat she could barely speak. “My truck broke down, I was just looking for some help.” She swallowed hard. “I can leave, but if you could point me in the right direction…”
The monster’s grip loosened. It looked over Haruka, giving her a sickening sense that she might be eaten.
“What’s your name?”
“H-Haruka.”
“No one has come here for a very long time.” The monster spoke slow now, so quiet Haruka could barely hear.
“I’m sorry, I—“
The monster dropped her. “You will stay.”
“Stay?”
It rose a hand, and in the distance, Haruka heard the door she’d entered through slam. “This place will give you everything you need, so long as you do not enter the northern chambers.”
Haruka stared at the tiling of the stone floor and tried to process. The monster thing was frightening, but the house was more than she’d ever had. Already she could smell foods she liked cooking in a far-off kitchen. Perhaps that should frighten her more, but if she couldn’t leave anyway… The only thing was Mina.
“Can I charge my phone?”
The monster blinked. “Can you… what?”
Haruka pulled out her phone. “My phone. I’ve got the charger, I just need an outlet.”
No sign of comprehension came across its face.
“Do you… have electricity here?”
“Oh, I’m afraid not. We… I am not new money like that.”
Well, the good news then, Haruka supposed, was it would only be a matter of time before Mina came to find her. A few days living in what was practically a palace, and then she’d be rescued. That was doable, even with something as monstrous as what stood before her.
“I can show you to a bedroom, if you would like.”
“Okay.” Haruka gathered herself from the floor.’
“The wardrobes will give you any clothes you desire,”the monster said, as though it was important. “As will the kitchens produce food.” It began to slither down a long hall. “Perhaps… we shall have dinner together, starting tomorrow. It is proper for guests to dine with their host.”
Haruka did not want to see what or how the thing ate, but she nodded along. It could kill her without effort, she was certain.
“Is this bedchamber to your liking?” it asked, opening a door and gesturing inside.
Haruka stepped over its tail to take a look. It was grand, just a touch below gaudy, with a faded red canopy over the bed and ornate carving on the frame and matching wardrobe. She would never choose it, but something told her there would be nothing more low-key.
“It’s fine.”
“Then I will take my leave for the night.” The monster turned down the hall.
“Wait.” Haruka’s own voice surprised her. “You never told me your name.”
The monster stopped, looking down instead of back at Haruka. “I am… I was the Lady Kaioh. If it pleases you, you may call me Michiru.”
“Okay.” Haruka swallowed. “Goodnight, Michiru.”
It— she, Haruka corrected— turned away quickly, a shiver running down her strange body. “Goodnight, Haruka.”
Fun concept: In truly dire circumstances, each senshi can open themselves to be a full channel for their element to eliminate a threat, leaving nothing but lingering traces of their powers behind
Mars is a fire bomb that dwindles to embers that take days to go out, Mercury a persistent mist. After her explosion, Jupiter is static that sparks between tree branches as though they are exposed wires. Neptune is and always has been the sea, Uranus sand in the wind.
But Venus is always left standing, because love endures.
Mars went first, of course she did. “Protect the princess!” She’d yelled, and then there was only flame. The flame of Mars, which showed no future but death. They’d taken her embers to the shrine and prayed it was the end.
But it wasn’t, how could it be? One by one. They gave their all and died for it, and now Uranus crumbled to sand in Mina’s arms, scattering in the wind to make her way to Neptune’s sea. Only Mina and Usagi remained, the general and her princess, and if it had to be the princess, alone and safe, so be it. Venus would do her duty. Venus held out to try every possibility, Venus had to be the last one standing. “You will protect her,” that Queen had said in a life long past. “At the expense of others first, and then yourself. You will protect her. You will love her for all of time.”
And she had, and now there was no way forward but to open herself as everyone else had, let power overtake her unto destruction. She stood before her princess and felt a warmth grow inside her. Love was not soft, it was not kind. It would not stand idly by while that which birthed it fell. Love was passion, love was wisdom, love was bravery. Love was the embrace of the sea and the ground on which you made your stand. Love was everything the others had to give and more.
“Love will be your death!” And it coursed through her, her skin aglow, body rigid and lousy with power. But a sweep of her hand and the enemies fell. She approached the source and light pooled at her feet in every step. Minako threw out her arms for the final blow, her hair blew out behind her and the world went gold, pure light and power bursting from her.
It is finished, she thought as the enemy screamed and the cold rushed back in. My duty is done.
But the cold remained. She opened her eyes. Her body stood where there should only have been light; she’d wondered, as the time had approached, how her soul would linger. A glimmer of sunlight despite the clouds, perhaps, or merely a feeling that would draw in young lovers.
It was not any of those things. Usagi looked at her with tearful, disbelieving eyes.
Short (665 word) piece about Pearl in light of A Single Pale Rose.
She’s the first person to tell you you could be something
more.
And the last to show you you never would be.
She gave you a sword and took you into a new world, bright
and free and sparkling with potential, she crossed your hands one over the
other and anchored you right where you started.
But she loved you.
She loved you.
She loved you.
She chose you.
She didn’t have to let a Pearl stand at her side. And she
could have had any Pearl.
But you were the Pearl
there, the voice in the quietest part of your heart whispers. And she may have needed—
No, she loved you. She gave you a choice, for most things.
You weren’t her Pearl, you belonged to no one. You belonged to her the way a
knight belongs to their lady, the way a soldier belongs to her country, the way
a lover—
She loved, you, didn’t she? She said you could be together,
when the dust cleared. A Pearl and a Diamond, who had ever heard of such a
thing! She lowered herself to be with you, she cast off her Diamond mantle and
broke down the system, every little bit she could, and—
And you look at her portrait, what you have left of her, and
you know in the quiet, tiny corner of your heart it was never for you. It wasn’t
for the good of any downtrodden gems. And you were only special because you
were a curiosity to her, and then you were special because of her secret and
her guilt. Her final order bound her to you.
But she loved you.
She loved you.
She loved the way you challenged her. She loved the way you
fought, with words and swords and hands, she loved the way you didn’t fight but
followed, she loved you enough to beg for your life on the battlefield, but
never to order you away.
She only gave orders
to save herself, your heart whispers, bitter and grateful all at once. You
needed the freedom and you needed the choice but at the same time surely—surely!—love would make it tempting.
Wouldn’t she want to save you, wouldn’t she—
But she knew, didn’t she? She knew that salvation by command
was no salvation at all.
Didn’t she?
Didn’t she?
You made the choice, didn’t you?
Sometimes, you think of other gems. Gems you fought, gems
you knew on Homeworld. My Diamond. My
love, my clarity. My Diamond. Love does not come on command, and yet…
And yet.
You fear you are no different. You followed your Diamond to
the ends of the Earth, nearly literally, and now… and now…
Sometimes, you feel grateful that she’s gone. Beneath the
grief, beneath everything inside you screaming for her to come back, there’s
relief. She chose to love someone else, she chose to love someone more. She
chose to give herself fully to something human. You don’t have to wonder
anymore. You don’t have to prove she loves you, you don’t have to prove
yourself worthy.
She loved you.
She loved you and it hurt you and it was never, ever enough.
You look away from her portrait, back towards where her son
sleeps upstairs. He’s something so different that her.
He loves you, and it hurts you in a different way.
He loves you, and sometimes it’s so quiet that you feel the
world stop for it.
This little boy loves you, not knowing he could own you, not
knowing you could serve him. He loves you, knowing the worst parts of you,
knowing the best parts of you.
And you love him. You’d fight the universe to keep him safe.
But it’s different, somehow. It doesn’t feel like fighting before.
You’re not his Pearl, and that feels real.
You love him, the way a mother loves her child.
You love him, and that’s enough.
You love him, and that makes everything else worth it.
Just about 1K words, set a while before Sailor V awakens.
“No!” she yelled as yet another man in a stuffy suit shut
yet another door in her face. “You have to listen!”
But they never did. Hitomi Akeno was going to be an
environmental lawyer, and she would sue all of them someday, but someday was
too far away. The world was dying now.
So many people had the power to slow it, to stop it, but none of them would
listen to anything but money, especially not an overzealous college freshman.
She put her hands in her pockets and slumped back towards
campus. She’d run student groups and protests and read studies and talked to
professors, and none of it did anything. To see the planet suffering, and be
unable to save it—that seemed to Hitomi to be the worst tragedy that might
befall her. A tragedy that felt familiar, somehow, but not one she could ever
accept.
“Pardon me, but are you Miss Hitomi Akeno?”
Hitomi gave a start. The speaker was a woman in a crisp
suit, clipboard in hand, hair cut into a sharp bob that framed her face.
“Yes, how—“
“I was just heading to campus to discuss your work, but
perhaps we could talk here” She indicated a coffee house across the street.
Hitomi followed her inside, hope growing in her like a flame. Someone would
listen, finally. Someone wanted to hear her out.
The woman asked questions, and let Hitomi make her
long-winded answers. She let her go on about why she cared, the state of the
planet, everything that stood in the way of making change.
It took a long while for Hitomi to realize she had
questions, too, questions that she ought to have started with. “Why are you
interested in me?” she asked. “Who are you?”
The woman smiled. “I was wondering when we’d get here.”
Hitomi felt trapped, suddenly, even in the busy café. She’d been too eager. She did not even know
what company the woman worked for, or if she worked for a company at all.
There was a glow in the woman’s eyes she could not be sure
was real or imagined. “This is not the first time you’ve made a futile stand
for your planet. But together, we could make it the last.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember, Beryl, Queen of the fallen kingdom.” The woman’s
voice turned strange and deep. The glow of her eyes went red. “You must
remember.”
Hitomi stood, frightened, ready to leave, but then something
burst open in the back of her mind. She’d had dreams, as a child, of a kingdom
long past. A childhood in a different time. The flowers of a palace garden, the
boy she was beholden to marry. Her consort, her prince who would become her
king when they wed. They were stories that entertained her parents when she
spoke of them, they’d said she should be a writer before she outgrew stories
and turned to fight the injustices of the world.
But as she looked at the woman across from her she
remembered further than the dreams. They weren’t stories at all. She had been a
princess, and then a queen, of a kingdom that ruled the planet she loved. And
there were monsters from the moon who threatened to destroy it all, and they
were terrifying and they were beautiful and they took everything she had.
She remembered the boy and the man he became, a man
bewitched away from his planet by the witchcraft of a different princess. She
remembered running him through in battle, she remembered the pain of weighing
her love of her people and her planet above her love for him.
There was more, she was more, and her hands shook as she sat
back down.
“I am Metalia. You met me once before.”
She had, in that life. Hitomi put her head in her hands.
Details were fuzzy, but she remembered the power, being granted the ability to
strike back against the enormous power of the moon people.
“She is coming again to strike your planet down, that vile
princess of the moon.”
Hitomi dug her fingers into her skin. She wanted to save her
world. That’s all she ever wanted. This was her home. These were her people.
“Do you want to see everything you love brought to
subjugation at her feet?”
She remembered, in a flash of clarity, the princess in that
life, and her soldiers, careless with power, leaving a wake of destruction on
earth as easily as a deer left footprints in mud. No, she would not let that
happen again. She would win the fight in full this time, and continue to win
every fight she needed to keep her planet whole.
“What must I do?”
The woman smiled. “Awaken your generals and find the silver
crystal before it can be restored to the Moon Princess. Only then may we lay
her low and keep what is ours.” She offered her hand.
Before she could think any better of it, Hitomi shook it.
Power swelled within her. Once again she would be a warrior for her planet. She,
Queen Beryl, would rise victorious.
Metalia’s grip tightened. “All I ask in exchange is you give
me the crystal to destroy it.”
It hardly seemed an unfair price to Beryl. She wanted it
gone anyway. She would not let the Moon use it to steal away her victory.
“It’s a deal,” she said, just as she had in an age gone by.
And then the power was hers, and she would not be stopped.
Beryl stepped back out into the street, a person born anew. She breathed in the
spring air, felt the sun on her skin. She would protect this place. She would
make it her kingdom once again, and no one, not businessmen and senators
drowning in money, not Moon guardians bathed in power, could take it away from
her.
She took a flower from a bush as she passed. The thorns did
not prick her fingers—the planet knew its Queen.
It would have been better if I’d written this yesterday, but eh. Here’s something inspired by Rei’s birthday, 800-ish words, and a different angle than I usually write from.
The cake had come out pretty good this year, Usagi had to
admit. She was no Mako, but the recipe was Mako’s and Usagi was getting much
better at following the finer details. Sure, the top was a little uneven, and
the sides had stuck to the pan, but the color was good and the taste was
better, and compared to last year, Rei would have to say Usagi had done good.
Or she would think it, maybe, and say something else. “Stupid Usagi, why don’t
you just buy a cake from the supermarket?”
Usagi scowled at the Rei in her mind as she got out the
frosting. “I can’t put love in a cake I don’t make, Rei-chan.” And they didn’t
make it right, anyway. Not for Rei. She liked simple spice cake with the
tiniest bit of frosting. Frosting was at least half the fun of a cake, but if
Rei wanted only a quarter of the fun, Usagi would let her on her birthday. On
Rei’s special day, Rei got what she wanted! Mostly, at least. Usagi still stuck
a big candle in the center of the cake. “I’m too old for candles!” Usagi could
hear her huff. “Besides, it gets wax all over the cake.”
They would bicker, and Usagi suspected that is what made Rei
happiest. Sometimes, she had to give her fuel for it. She had to let Rei yell
and stomp so that at the end of the day, they could have whatever moment of
tenderness that made its way through Rei’s façade. It made Usagi laugh at how
easy it could be. For all Rei’s bluster, for all she pushed and pulled and put
up walls, her warm little heart was as easy to unlock as Usagi’s cell phone.
Easier, even, because Ami had said Usagi should change every code and password
every few months, so Usagi put in the wrong numbers half the time.
The cake looked as good as it ever would, and so Usagi
slipped on her shoes and headed out.
The weather was better than it often was on Rei’s birthday.
Cloudy, but dry. It seemed to rain so often on her birthday, and Rei didn’t
much like the rain. Mina claimed it dampened her fuse and made her sputter. Rei
had still managed to explode then, but Usagi had seen some truth in it. Dry
days were better for Rei. Dry days were better for Usagi, too, and bright days
were best. A few clouds couldn’t get her down, though, not on Rei’s birthday.
As she got close, she saw Rei’s grandfather with his
caretaker. Usagi smiled to see him out.
He didn’t make it sometimes, as old as he was. “Hello, grandpa!” She
called.
“Oh, Usagi!” He beamed up at her. “Coming to spoil Rei?”
“I am!” She held out her cake for him to see. “I did a lot
better this year.”
“You do good every year.” He patted her arm. “Someday you’re
going to get married up, and Rei will miss your treats.”
“I don’t think so, Grandpa.”
“Oh, a pretty girl like you? If I were just a little younger,
I’d marry you myself.” He laughed, and Usagi laughed with him.
“I’ll always be here for Rei, even if I get married.”
He smiled more somberly now. “You’re a good girl,
Usagi-chan.”
“Try telling Rei that.”
“She knows.” He gave her one more arm pat, and then let his
caretaker lead him away. Usagi smiled after him for a long moment before
turning to head in.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone. You know your Usagi, never on time.”
She sat down and displayed her cake.
“It’s better this year, isn’t it? Soon, mine will be as good
as Mako’s!”
It wouldn’t, not ever, but Usagi would try. She lit the
candle. Really, even if Rei was worried about the wax, she had to appreciate
the flame harkening another year. It was probably symbolic. It flickered in the
wind in its own little birthday dance.
Usagi sat and watched the wax drip. It ran down in a little
red line, pooling on top of her carefully applied frosting. Rei would be
furious. Mako would be offended too, ruining her wonderful cake. Mina would
probably eat it, just to annoy the both of them, and—
Usagi shook her head. “We’re still together, aren’t we? Just
because I can’t hear your laughter, doesn’t mean you’re not here.” She breathed
in the calm, the way she’d been taught. “I’m happy I get to be with you on days
like this.”
The candlelight glinted on Rei’s picture frame. It gave her
eyes the illusion of life, and that made Usagi smile. She reached out to it,
and for a moment she could almost feel the warmth of Rei’s hand in hers. It was
enough. It was why she came.
The candle was burnt low now, the wax over taking the
frosting completely. Usagi blew it out and watched the smoke waft over the
grave.
Quick piece for Michiru’s birthday, ~700 words. Enjoy!
Perhaps I should have listened to Setsuna when she talked about
time. Yesterday, I reached for your hand for the first time, alight with fear
and desire and the dark craggy beast of youth. And the day before that, you
took my hand in marriage. That can’t be right, but that’s how it happened. All
the rest telescopes in between breaths, we bought a house, we had our first
date, the children went to school. It’s been two days, it’s been twenty
years— no, the latter isn’t any more true than the former, now. It’s harder
for me to remember the numbers, these days, and while it pleases you when I
tell waitresses you’ve just turned thirty, you’d be heart broken to know I’ve
forgotten this one. So… by the calendar, it’s been fifty seven years, going
from when our lives first collided. It can’t be right, surely, it’s far too
long and far two short, I met you last week and I’ve loved you forever. We’ve
barely stopped being children and yet our children have children grown. Setsuna
told me, once, many times, I can’t be sure, that time is not a line but a
fabric, it folds over on itself, and days many stitches apart may come
together.
You’re wrapped in a blanket now, tangled up as I am in all
the moments of our life. You stole all the covers the first night we stayed in
bed together, and perhaps that night was last night as I wake to nothing but a
corner of the sheet left to warm me. But it cannot have been last night, for
when you wake you will not be ashamed, and I do not leave myself to shiver on
the edge of the bed. I wrap around you as I have every night, every morning for
a thousand years.
You stir. The sunlight hits your hair and makes you blonde
again, time squeezes together all the more and I feel the urge to touch you for
the first time, to let lose all my adolescent desire upon you, your eyes open
slowly in their wrinkled beds and I feel tender, familiar, home, I want to make
love to my wife of half a century.
You look at me in the morning light, you see me for the very
first time. There’s wonder in your eyes.
“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing,” you say, too confident
and self-aware to be your teenage self any longer. “Come here often?”
I laugh at the joke you’ve never made before, the joke I’ve
heard from you a hundred times. “I’ve been here once or twice.”
You smile the smile I fell in love with a dozen lifetimes
ago, you prop yourself up as best you can and give me the sweetest kiss I’ve
ever had. “Today is something special, you know,” you say, staying close.
“Oh?” I don’t know the date, I’m not sure I even have the
month right, if I’ve missed our anniversary…
But you laugh. “Michi, it’s your birthday!”
I told you, I can’t remember numbers anymore. “I thought we
agreed I didn’t have birthdays anymore.”
“You said that, and I’ve thrown you at least five birthday
parties since then.” They all bleed together in my mind, a blur of cake and
family and the girls in party hats.
You reach down into your bedside drawer and pull out a
little box. You will not hear that you shouldn’t have, you never do. I open the
paper and peel off the lid to see a simple folding frame set bearing three
photos—on the left, a snapshot from a festival booth just after we started
dating, all nervous smiles. On the right is a family portrait we sat for, or
that we and the baby sat for, our older girl is barely still enough for the
camera to capture, and you’re trying not to laugh at her dancing. In the middle
we are as we are now, though I can’t remember when the photo might have been
taken. The three times fold together with everything in between them. I can’t
begin to tell you my thoughts, how perfect a gift it is, so I merely say it’s
beautiful.
“Happy birthday, Michi,” you say, and I curl into your arms
as time washes over us.
Michiru’s mother had always been a hard woman, and over the years Michiru had watched that stiffness become literal. The slow progression of stony maintenance, chiseling away each flaw as it manifested so that she might become a statue of the woman Michiru saw in her parent’s wedding photos. When she had last seen her mother, she could not raise her eyebrows again yet, and she asked if Michiru had considered starting ‘getting work.’
She’d been appalled at the suggestion, she’d always promised herself she would be different from her parents in so many ways, bult as she leaned into the mirror now…
Michiru had thought it would happen so much later. But the lines around her eyes extended like a dozen little liner wings, and creases on her forehead would not dissipate no matter how she relaxed the muscles beneath them. The bones of her shoulders, elbows, knees, the lines of her neck, they had all grown more pronounced, seemingly overnight.
She opened her phone to look through pictures. When had it began? Wasn’t she still so young? Her mother hadn’t… but how was she to know when things began for her mother? She was nearing sixty, and Michiru had never seen as much as a gray hair appear unchecked. Perhaps she had the right of it. It was the only way, surely, turn to stone to bear the weight of age. Michiru would have to make some calls, and then—
“Michi?”
She straightened, smoothed her dress, fixed her hair. “Yes?”
“You’re taking awhile, the show…”
“Oh, yes.” Michiru looked in the mirror again. She had not even begun her makeup, and she needed it now more than ever. “Perhaps you could go ahead of me, I’m going a bit slow today.”
“I’m not going without you.” Haruka cracked the bathroom door. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, love.” She grabbed her foundation and unscrewed the cap in a hurry. “I merely got distracted.”
“Michiru.” She opened the door further and stepped inside. “I know you. You can talk to me.”
It wasn’t fair—Haruka was every bit as handsome as the day they’d met, while she… while she…
Michiru faced her reflection. “I’m old.”
Haruka’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“I’m old.”
Haruka laughed, though not unkindly. “If we’re old now, we’re gonna be ancient in a few years.”
“I will. You’ll be fine.”
“What?” Another laugh, this time with the slightest edge. “I look older than you.”
Michiru could not find the words respond. Haruka stuck her face in the mirror beside her.
“Soon I won’t even be able to call myself blonde.” She gave her hair a good-natured shake. “And Mina likes to say I’ve begun the slow morph from butch noodle to ravioli.”
Michiru met her eyes in the mirror. It was all true, in a strict sense, and yet…
“But it’s handsome on you. You look just as good, better even, than before. And I…”
“You’re beautiful, Michu.” Haruka took her gently by the shoulders and turned her so they faced each other. “You’re the most beautiful woman to ever live.” She smiled sheepishly. “I kinda like see you get older. For a long time I thought I wouldn’t get to.”
“Oh, Haruka.”
“I know, I know, but really.” She stroked her face with her thumb. “I wouldn’t want you looking younger. This is where we are now, and I like it.”
“You don’t think…” Michiru glanced back to the mirror. “You wouldn’t have me get anything?”
“God no.” Haruka kissed her on the forehead. “You’re perfect, Michu. And you won’t ever not be.”
“You’re very sweet,” she said, but she felt her spirits lift. “I’m sorry I’ve made us so late.”
“It’s okay, I was gonna sleep through most the show anyway. I’m so old, you know, I can’t stay awake anymore.”
Michiru laughed. “You’ve been old a very long time then.”
“I suppose I have.” Haruka grinned. “Though you know, if you’re worried about being late, we could go now. You’re more than beautiful enough already…”
“I’m going to put on my makeup, Haruka.”
“I figured as much, but it was worth a try. Someday you’ll believe me on that front, too.”
She kissed Michiru’s cheek and let her be. Michiru selected a lipstick with a lightness in her heart, a feeling that could never turn to stone.
@awashsquid tumblr won’t let me do any formatting on asks and you probably don’t even remember sending this prompt, BUT I WROTE A THING. It’s not worth the nearly two months it’s taken, and it’s kind of a mess, but here’s 3.3K of Rei and MIchiru being ridiculous stubborn business women!
Rei
slumped down in her chair as the final shrine visitor of the day disappeared
down the stairs. She sighed and pushed back her hair. All that was left was to
clean up, then–
“You’ve
gotta loosen up, fireball.”
“Shut
it, Mina.”
Minako
merely leaned into Rei’s shoulder. “If you want to close on time, close on
time. Then you wouldn’t have to be so late for the important things.”
“I’m
not late for important things.” There was a long stretch of silence. Rei
wondered if that had dipped towards cruel. “What I mean is, you understand.
Things like the shrine, or business meetings, they’re unmovable.”
“They’re
not though! Mina squared and faced Rei soldier to soldier. “You are Rei fucking
Hino, and you reshape how the world works when you don’t like it.”
“You
just don’t understand, Mina–”
“I
don’t understand? You just said I did, which is it?”
“It’s
not that simple.”
“Of
course it is!” Mina threw up her hands. “If you wanted to be with me, you’d
make time instead of excuses.”
“I’m
not making excuses, I’m just telling you how it is!”
“And
I’m telling you it’s not good enough.” She turned, hair whipping behind her in
a cinematic fashion, and huffed her way down the stairs.
—–
“She’s
not wrong, you know,” Michiru said, taking a sip of wine later that night.
“Michiru!”
She
gave her particular wry Michiru smile. “You always give such direct honesty,
I’m only returning the favor.” She swirled her glass. “Do you think Haruka
would still be with me if I let anything keep me away so often?”
“We
have very different circumstances.”
“Oh?
Are we not both young business executives with extensive side projects and
deeply affectionate partners?”
“You
were born into your business, Michiru. You have far more leeway than me.”
“No,
I merely know where the limits truly are.”
Rei
glared at her over their wine glasses. “If you had to work as hard as I do,
you’d understand.”
“But you don’t have to work as hard as you do.”
“Why
is everyone like this?” Rei pressed her toes hard against the floor beneath the
table. “I don’t do all this for fun. I do it because it needs doing. If I had
your position and status, I could be lax and cushy too.”
“I
would hardly say I’m lax. The key is management, Rei. Of your time and of your
people.” She hummed thoughtfully as she took a sip. “Why don’t I show you?”
“Show
me?”
“Let
me do your job for a few days. A week, let’s say.”
“You
can’t just do that.”
“Of
course I can. You’ll hire me as a business consultant. Companies do it all the
time. I’ll even do it pro-bono.” Michiru smiled, knowing Rei could never turn
down an opportunity to save money.
Rei
huffed. “If I hire you, you have to hire me. I’ll show you how much more gets
done my way.”
“Hm.”
Michiru paused. “I don’t have any performances coming up. We’ll fully switch
for a week, and you’ll see how much better things can be managed.”
“Or
you’ll see I’m right.”
Michiru
smiled. “I suppose the game is set.”
—-
There
were whispers as Michiru walked through the office. “I hear Ms. Hino and Ms.
Kaioh hired each other as consultants.” “Is she here to fire us?” “Ms. Hino
didn’t seem happy about the whole thing, so–”
It
simply would not do. No one could accuse Rei of being too soft, but she clearly
had not brought her employees to heel. “There will be a meeting at 9:15,”
Michiru said to a baffled group of cubicle workers. “Anything you have to say
can be said there.”
The
conference room was too small for the entire crew, but Michiru gave no
acknowledgement to those who had to crowd along the wall rather than sit. She’d
have to tell Rei she needed more space.
“Now,
who can tell me our numbers from last week?”
Silence.
Michiru frowned.
“Which
of you ran the report? I will not tolerate slacking off.”
Another
long silence, and then a mousy woman with oversized glasses raised a shaking
hand. “Um, Ms. Hino usually runs the report herself. She has me make copies of
it sometimes.”
It
was all Michiru could do not to put her face in her hands. “Then you go do it.”
“I–
I’m just a secretary, I don’t…”
“Do
you have access to the databases?”
“I
have a login, but–”
“Then
I trust you will bring me a report before this meeting ends.”
She
scurried off, and another woman slipped away from the back of the room to help
her. Michiru took note of her. She was either too willing to do someone else’s
job, or else cunning enough to appear kind while getting credit for what got
done. Rei would be well-served by the latter as she transitioned to doing less.
The former always burnt out too soon.
“While
we wait on our numbers, let’s talk about why I am here.” Michiru faced the room
with her shoulders squared and chin up. For all they’d dealt with volatile Rei
Hino, all the workers in the room shivered. “I have no intention of having any
of you fired–” A collective sigh– “So long as you do your job.” And the room
froze again. “It seems there are many inefficiencies in the day-to-day business
practices here. Each of you will have the opportunity to step up to solve
them.”
A
man who Michiru, perhaps unkindly, thought looked like he belonged in IT with
his wiry frame and an open button down that flaunted dress code the slightest
bit because he felt irreplacable, rose a hand. “What about departments that are
already efficient?”
“Hmm…”
Michiru smiled. “And your department is?”
“IT.”
“Thank
you for volunteering for first audit. I will walk back with you once we are
done here.”
He
slunk down in his chair slightly.
Michiru
walked along the front of the conference table. “Complacency is never an asset.
The drive to improve should come from each and every one of you.” She stopped.
“I would like each department to present something they would like to do better
in tomorrow morning’s meeting. Throughout the week I will work with you to plan
how to bring it to fruition.”
The
tension dropped. It surely seemed easy enough to them. But Michiru was not
finished.
“I
will be focusing on the bigger, structural inefficiencies. As they are
identified, some of you will take on greater responsibilities.”
With
timing that could not be better had Michiru planned it, the secretary and other
woman returned, reports in hand. “You,” Michiru said to the woman. “What is
your name?”
“Nagisa.”
“And
what do you do here?”
“Data
analysis.”
“Good.
Every morning you will run the report and deliver it to Ms. Hino’s office. By
the end of the week, I expect to start seeing notations on key points.”
“Understood.”
Michiru
smiled. This wouldn’t be hard at all.
—-
Rei
collapsed into Michiru’s office chair. She hadn’t thought about how big
the place would be. No wonder Michiru outsourced most of the work. Just finding
her office took half the morning.
“Good
morning, Ms. Hino.” A woman Rei assumed was Michiru’s secretary, dressed primly
in a navy skirt suit. “Would you like coffee or tea? Mrs. Kaioh did not tell me
your preferences, I apologize.”
Rei
waved her off. “I’m fine, I can get my own.” Probably, so long as she could
find the break room– or one of them, a place this big had to have several.
“Very
well. I am right outside should you need anything. The earnings report for last
week is on your desk, as well as stock prices and our projected goals.”
“Thank
you.” Rei leaned in to look at them as the secretary left the room. Earnings…
Rei sat back again. There was a difference, of course, between a diversified company
your family built over generations and a small printing firm you bought when it
was on the brink of failure and brought back to life, but to see it so plainly
in numbers… Rei looked a second time. And that was only last week.
She
scanned over the goals. The only thing to do was to push beyond the numbers
here, show Michiru that her way was better.
Someone
knocked on the office door. A large man in a suit entered, looking like a
perfect caricature of a businessman. “Ms. Hino. Mrs. Kaioh said you may want to
meet with me after your arrival.”
She
motioned for him to sit. He introduced himself and began explaining the
structure of the company and workforce.
“Wait,
she lets who run payroll?”
“No,
I should be in that meeting, let me write that down.”
“What
does she do all day? I have to do that too.”
After
a while, the man stopped, looking slightly pained. “We do ave departments for a
reason, Ms. Hino…”
“Yes,”
Rei said, filling in Michiru’s desk calendar with red pen, “and as CEO and
owner Michiru is the head of every department and should act accordingly.”
The
man sighed. “Mrs, Kaioh did say…” He shook his head. “I’m on extension 265
should you need anything.”
Rei
nodded and let him leave as she surveyed her new schedule. She certainly had
her work cut out for her.
—–
There
was a wave of uncomfortable surprise as Rei strode in to the conference room.
Every man adjusted his tie or cufflinks and looked to the man to the side of
him to confirm she was really there. And they were all men– Rei would
certainly have to talk to Michiru about that.
“Ms.
Hino,” one of them started, voice layered with condensation thick as honey,
“there is no need for you to be in this meeting.”
“I
have been hired as a business consultant, and I intend to do my job. That means
I must observe you doing yours.”
“Very
well.” He sat back as though it was nothing, but she saw his color rise slightly.
Rei
took a chair and pulled it to the wall at the back, away from the table. She’d
made a folder detailing everyone in the meeting—it was nearly every major
department head. Not a single ground-level employee was involved in any meeting
that was on her radar. It was due to sheer size, perhaps, but it bothered her.
The
men began talking. She let them go for a while. It seemed to her to hardly be a
business meeting at all. They congratulated each other on themselves on their
production and stock performance, agreeing that the outlook for the coming quarter
was excellent.
“But
what did you do?” Rei asked finally.
They
all looked at her as though it was an absurd question. She singled out the man
who’d questioned her.
“The
company did well. Your department did well. What did you do to make that happen?”
He
took on the particular smile of oh, you
don’t understand business. “I run—“
“I
don’t need your job description. I have it here.”
“Then
I don’t understand your question.”
“I’ll
ask something else then. You cut…” she scanned the document. “Over thirty jobs
in the past two months. Who took on those responsibilities?”
“Those
jobs were redundant. Cutting them will save—“
“That
is not what I asked.” She looked him in the eyes. “Who took on the tasks and
responsibilities that belonged to those former employees?”
His
face twisted as though he might like to hit her if only it wouldn’t muss up his
suit. “Other employees at the appropriate levels absorbed their tasks. Now if
you look at the numbers, you’ll see production—“
“I
see the numbers quite fine.” Rei closed her folder forcefully. “I want a
breakdown report of all eliminated jobs in the past six months, what they did
and who’s taken on what tasks. Tomorrow we will restructure to take on some of
the extra work ourselves.”
A
few of the men laughed as though they honestly thought it was a joke. The rest
looked around to not meet her eyes.
“That’s
not how business works, Ms. Hino.”
Rei
stood. “You’re going to learn it can be.”
—–
As
Michiru had expected, it did not take long to start seeing progress. By the fourth
day, she stopped hearing that things were Rei’s job. They simply got done, as
they should have all along. She now could simply walk into her office each
morning and read over the company’s performance as she took her tea. Soon Rei
would see production rise, marveling as Michiru’s efforts cut the time she spent
in the office while rising her profits to previously unimagined heights.
It
was as she took her tea on this fourth morning that the mousy secretary popped
into the door frame, hands aflutter as she tried to speak.
“M-m-mrs.
Kaioh?”
“Yes?”
Rei should replace the poor thing, it would do them both good.
“There’s
a problem.”
“I
trust you will fix it, or call someone who can.” She took another sip of tea,
but the secretary did not leave.
She
rocked back and forth on her heels. “Do you know how we might reach Ms. Hino?”
“That
won’t be necessary.”
“She’s
the only—“
“Fine.”
Michiru set her tea cup on the desk with just enough force to make the
secretary jump. “What is the problem?”
“There’s
a woman on the direct line, she says she says Ms. Hino herself promised she’d
get her delivery by the end of the day yesterday, and—“
“When
did she place her order?”
“Saturday.”
“We
do not operate on Saturdays.”
The
secretary bit her lip. “Yes but Ms. Hino often comes in, she likes to take
orders whenever she can.”
Michiru
sighed. “Well tell the woman her order was taken by mistake—“
“I
don’t think I should.”
“Why?”
“She
orders from us a lot.” She shakily approached and pointed to a large subsection
of production. “Almost all orders on laminated matte 120 pound card stock come
directly from her.”
“Then
why has no one completed her order?” But she knew the answer. Rei did this
woman’s orders. It was the blessing and curse of a small company—customers knew
and trusted specific people. The woman would settle for nothing less than the
company’s best, which Rei had made a point of making herself.
But
Michiru would not throw in the towel. She was right, and this was merely an oversight
that she should have delegated correctly. “Tell her she’ll have her order by
noon.”
“Yes
ma’am.”
Michiru
turned to Rei’s computer, which she’d barely touched in her time there. As she
opened the file, she realized she had another problem. Two, if she couldn’t
remember the secretary’s name. She pondered for a moment. “Keiko?” she called.
The
secretary reappeared. “Yes?”
“Call
someone who can show me how to do this order.”
“Yes
ma’am.” She turned, but then paused. “Also, um. It’s Rika.”
Michiru
was not sure which of them should be more embarrassed. But soon someone was
showing her how to get the order done, and she had no time to think about it.
It
was 11:52 when she finally pulled in front of the delivery address—rarely had
she ever been so aware of the time. She was so focused, in fact, that she didn’t
realize where she was until she was almost to the door.
“You
gave Rei’s poor secretary quite a scare,” she said with a laugh as she pushed
through the door of Makoto’s flower shop. “If she had said it was you I wouldn’t
had worried.”
Mako
didn’t smile. “She told me what’s going on.”
“I
have your order here.” She held the large envelope out.
Mako
took it and began replacing handwritten labels with the printed ones. “I had a
shipment of specialty flowers in this morning.”
“I’m
sorry.”
Mako
stopped to look at her sternly. “I get what you’re trying to do. Rei’s not
great at balance. But she and I are different than you. There are things we
have to do ourselves, because we are our business. I own this place, it’s my
name on the sign. I can have other people water the flowers, or handle the
cash, but I have to know they’re doing it right, and sometimes, the only way to
do that is doing it myself. And for bigger things, that’s almost always true. I
design the special occasion bouquets. I deliver the wedding flowers. And Rei
has to do her own version of that. She does too much, I won’t argue, but she
always does what’s necessary.” She frowned. “If I hadn’t been a friend, you
might have lost Rei business today.”
Michiru
felt shame color her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Mako
softened. “On the bright side, I’m sure Rei’s doing much worse to your company.”
—-
Rei
knew that they all knew she could have done much worse. She’d designed a
trickle up—adjusting tasks onto higher levels rather than laterally, so that
each level of management took on a little of what they were managing, up and on
to the department heads. They complained, but overall, Rei thought it was going
smoothly. The lower levels were less stressed, and Michiru would have to be
pleased with their increased output, which would surely begin showing in barely
any time at all.
There
was just the small problem of what Rei had allotted herself, and Michiru when
she left.
She’d
said as CEO she was the true head of every department, and she’d followed through
on it—she’d taken on at least one task from each department head to allow them
to take on their additional tasks.
They
were relatively small tasks, but there were so many departments.
For
a day, she’d handled it well. But it had been a long day, and today was proving
longer. An angry text from Mina lit up her phone.
Don’t bother coming home if you love
work that much appeared below the big “7:14pm.”
Another
– Only you could make a cushy job this
long and hard.
Then,
Mina of course not being able to resist being Mina—I guess that’s why it brings you so much pleasure, huh? It was followed
by an eggplant emoji.
Rei
sighed and put her chin in her hands. She missed her old work, and not just
because she suspected she might have overshot and made a mess here—but it was
different to work for a team that believed in her. They hadn’t at first,
granted, but even at the start it hadn’t been this hard.
She
put the paperwork to the side. The problem had been in front of her all along.
She didn’t love this company, and Michiru didn’t either. It was the difference
beyond the size.
Against
her pride, she picked up her phone. “Let’s call it off a day early.”
“Thank
god.”
—-
“You
know,” Michiru said over wine on Saturday, when it had already begun to feel
distant, “I quite like making the department heads work more. I’m keeping that.
But they’re doing everything you gave me.”
Rei
snorted. “Surprise surprise.” She paused. “And you know, maybe not all your changes were bad ideas.”
Michiru
smiled. “I don’t suppose we have to go as far as to say we were both wrong. We
were merely both right.”
“I
like that outlook.” Rei raised her glass in appreciation. Her phone buzzed, and
she downed what remained of her drink. “Looks I’ve gotta run.”
“Oh?”
Michiru raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe—I’m
not saying for sure, but maybe—you had a point about Mina too.”
“Oh
dear, I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve made her life better.”
Rei
rolled her eyes. “Guess you should have let me be.”
@paksenarrion-reader said:
bonus points: horses get skittish around people who are nervous
TUMBLR WOULDN’T POST A REGULAR REPLY POST RIGHT, BUT HERE’S ABOUT 2400 WORDS ON THIS ENJOY
Haruka was not entirely sure how she’d gotten here. Michiru saying she had a surprise had honestly sounded like a sex thing, and the outfit she’d told Haruka to change into had only supported that in Haruka’s mind. Small pants, a jacket with a lot of buttons, high boots? Seemed like one of Michiru’s weird fantasies to her, and then Michiru had been in a matching outfit, but with a whip… what was she supposed to think?
Maybe the fact that they then left the apartment should have tipped her off. Michiru was a private person. Even a hotel seemed too gauche for her tastes, but Haruka hadn’t wanted to say anything. They’d only been together a little while, and by Haruka’s guess they only had a little while longer until Michiru realized she deserved something better, so she didn’t feel it was her place to ask questions.
Now, staring into one dark eye of a large beast, she realized she should have asked a lot of questions.
“Isn’t she lovely?” Michiru asked, brushing the mane of another horse. “Noir has long been a favorite of mine, I requested she be brought out for you.”
Haruka made a motion of patting the horse’s side without actually touching it. “Oh, uh. Thanks. She’s… great.”
Michiru smiled. “I’ve been thinking about all the things we have in common, and I realized I was overlooking such a wonderful thing we share. I grew up taking riding lessons, you grew up in the country, we did the same thing as children even though our backgrounds were so different.”
“Yeah,” Haruka croaked. “Amazing.” It had been Michiru’s mission to find their common ground lately. She wasn’t ready to accept that they came from different worlds and would end up in different worlds. And here, she thought she’d found something they really shared, beyond their attraction to each other.
But Haruka had never been on a horse. She’d never even been near a horse, except that one time a school friend’s uncle had taken them to a race and asked if they’d pitch in on his bet. When Michiru heard the drawl of Haruka’s accent, she pictured open pastures and grazing cattle, but the trailer Haruka had grown up in barely had yard enough for a sandbox.
Haruka tried to pet the horse for real. It shied away from her hand.
She had to tell her.
“Uh, Michiru…”
“Michiru!”
Another woman strode up, a brilliant white horse in tow. “I haven’t seen you out here in months, how are you?”
Michiru’s face morphed into the placid, polite expression Haruka had come to recognize as her socialite mask. “Oh, Rina, how nice to see you. It really has been too long.”
“And who is this… charming gentleman you have brought with you?”
Haruka stiffened.
“She is my companion for the day, Haruka. She’s quite good at riding, I’m not sure you’ll be able to keep up with us.”
Haruka swallowed hard.
Rina smiled. “I’ll just have to try my best.” She looked at Haruka’s horse with what Haruka was sure was faux concern. “Noir seems skittish today, did something happen?”
Michiru’s eyes narrowed. “She does dislike negativity.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She pulled gloves over her manicured hands. “What trail are we riding today?”
“We haven’t decided, perhaps you should go on ahead and pick one yourself.”
“Oh, nonsense. How could I miss this opportunity to catch up with you?” Rina flashed a glance at Haruka. “And your companion seems so interesting.”
Haruka was doomed, plain and simple. Noir’s ears flicked back and forth as she pawed at the ground. Haruka was going to have to ride her. Her heart pounded in her ears. As if the horse could hear it too, she whinnied and side stepped as far as the bridle would let her go.
“Let us not delay any longer,” Rina said with a smile that seemed malicious to Haruka. “It’s too nice a day to waste it in the yard.”
Haruka watched as she mounted on her horse with ease. Left side, foot up, and then… she was just magically atop the saddle, looking smug.
Haruka took a deep breath. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.” She slowly drew close to Noir. “You don’t like me, and I don’t like you, but we gotta do this, okay?” She put a hand on the horse’s neck, and she finally didn’t pull away. “Okay. We can do this.” A horse couldn’t be that different from a car, really. Both were big and scary, but when you knew what you were doing they were the safest thing in the world, practically. Haruka just had to ignore that she didn’t know wht she was doing.
She positioned herself on the left side, as she’d seen Rina do. Foot up, that seemed good, sturdy, yes. And then she just had to lift herself, it wasn’t scary, she wasn’t terrified, she was doing just fine…
And then Noir bucked. Haruka hit the ground and skidded on her back. Michiru would be so mad about the grass stains, shit.
“Haruka!”
“I’m fine.” She sat up as Michiru rushed over. “I didn’t hit my head or nothin’.”
Michiru brushed her off and looked into her eyes. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this today, Noir seems out of sorts, and–”
“Naw, I want to.” Haruka stood. “Little rough start never meant nothin’.” She smiled, and the knot between Michiru’s brows dissipated.
“If you’re sure, lo… Haruka.”
Haruka turned back to Noir. The good thing was, she supposed, that she was stupid and stubborn more than she was ever afraid. She remembered hearing once that horses could smell fear. “Well,” she whispered to Noir was she readied to try again. “Let’s see if you can smell determination too.”
And maybe they could, or maybe it was just a miracle, for Haruka settled into the saddle with only a few sickening moments of fear that she might tip over. Rina watched her with a cocked eyebrow. She knew, Haruka was sure. How Michiru hadn’t caught on was the only real mystery.
Rina led the way towards the wooded trails. Haruka was grateful that Noir knew to follow without guidance.
Michiru angled her horse to be stride for stride with Haruka’s. “I’m so sorry she’s here,” she whispered. “I wanted it to be just us.”
“It’s fine,” Haruka lied. “We can be alone later.” That was a true comforting thought, confessing everything to Michiru when they got back to her home, where Michiru would maybe offer her tea Haruka didn’t really like but appreciated the gesture, and wrap her in a blanket and stroke her hair while promising they’d never have to do it again.
“She just…”
“What are you two whispering about back there?” Rina pulled back on her reins, slowing until her horse was between Haruka and Michiru. “I’d love to hear whatever you’re gossiping about.”
“Oh, have you heard that my mother might not be able to attend this year’s charity gala? Quite tragic, I’m afraid…”
Michiru led her into mindless prattle, and Haruka took the opportunity to focus on her bearings. Riding was wholly uncomfortable, bumpy, and she felt as though she might wobble too far to one side at any moment. But the horse was calm, for now, so Haruka figured she should be grateful.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Haruka?”
“Oh, yeah, um, what?”
Rina looked at her expectantly. “We should really pick up the pace. I’d love to see your true skill with riding.”
“Yeah,” Haruka said, her stupid pride jumping off her tongue before her brain could catch it. “Definitely.”
“We ought to have a race to the edge of the wood.” To her other side, Michiru frowned.
“Surely after the incident earlier…”
Rina waved her off. “Oh, Michiru, it’s all in good fun. And Haruka wants to, don’t you Haruka?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well there you have it. You aren’t going to deny us our fun, are you?”
“I just wouldn’t want to bruise your ego too much, Rina, you’ve never been able to outride me.”
Rina’s expression crossed into contempt for a moment. “Overconfidence is a dangerous trait.”
“I don’t believe I’ve been overconfident.”
“We’ll see about that.” She took off, and Michiru quickly overtook her.
Haruka’s heart sank as Noir merely stopped.
“Run,” she tried.
She pressed her legs into the horse’s sides in what she assumed was the right way. Noir began to walk, but only at the same pace they’d been going before.
“No, listen, this is gonna let them know I’m a fraud. You gotta run for me.”
Noir did not seem interested. Haruka gave the reins a shake. “Please, come on.”
Nothing.
She had an idea. A bad idea, she knew, but an idea, and the only one she could think of. She couldn’t embarrass Michiru in front of that insidious woman anymore than she already had. So she took one shaking hand off the reins, leaned back a little, and slapped Noir near the tail.
Noir launched forward, nearly throwing Haruka off. Her heart leapt to her throat, every frightened beat seeming to drive Noir to go faster. Rina and Michiru came back into sight, she was going to pass them. She could say her delay was to make it more fair, that was good.
But, she realized as Noir careened closer and closer, she didn’t know how to maneuver around them. “Watch out!” she half-screamed, making Noir press on even faster.
She barely caught Michiru’s gasp as she pulled her horse to the side of the trail to let Haruka pass, but she could have sworn she heard Rina chuckle.
The woods passed in a blur, Haruka barely being able to duck under low branches fast enough. The end appeared before her, and she realized the most important thing she didn’t know.
“Stop!” She yelled as they broke into the sunny open trail. “Stop!”
That, apparently, was not the way to stop a horse. She squeezed with her legs, and then pulled on the reins.
Noir reared up, and for a second the forward momentum Haruka still had made her feel like she’d stay on, she leaned into the horse’s neck with all her strength, but her balance was too wobbly and she slipped to one side, feet coming out of the saddle and the ground suddenly rising up to meet her shoulder, hard.
Noir trotted to the side to graze the grass, seemingly proud of her work.
Haruka lay splayed on the trail, half worried the next horse to come by would trample her and half too consumed by pain to care.
She didn’t budge as hoofbeats thundered towards her.
“Haruka!” Michiru practically leapt from her horse and ran to kneel at her side. “HAruka, are you alright?”
“Not really.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into Noir today, something must have happened while I haven’t been coming, I–”
“Is she alright?” Rina had the decency to look sheepish.
“Ride back and get help, she might be hurt.”
Rina’s face went white. Haruka wondered what she had expected to happen. “I… yes, right away.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“No, I landed on my shoulder.” She was lucky, she knew, but it hurt like hell. “Michiru, I have to tell you. There’s nothing wrong with the horse. I’m the problem. I’ve never done this before.”
Michiru put her face in her hands. “Oh Haruka, I’m so sorry. I wondered, when we first arrived, but then you didn’t say anything, and…”
“No, it’s my fault, I was pretty stupid about it.” She pushed herself up to sit with her good arm, and felt around her shoulder. Nothing felt broken, she might get off with just a hell of a bruise. “I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to be too…you know… poor to have a good time with.”
“That’s not…” Michiru looked at her, her eyes shockingly wet. “So many of the things I like are boring to you. Art is too static, and you always fall asleep during foreign films, and…”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I understand, I can’t pay attention at all when you turn on a race.” Michiru pressed her lips together. “But I like being with you, and I want to show you there are things we can do together, because I love you. And I’ve done this all wrong, and–”
“Wait, back up a little.” Haruka swallowed. Her throat was suddenly very dry, and her heart pounded harder than it had at any moment on the horse. “What did you just say?” Had the pain made her hallucinate? Surely, it couldn’t be that Michiru had really just said…
Michiru’s eyes went wide and she cast them to the ground. “I… it’s okay if you don’t feel it too, especially after what a fool I’ve been today, I understand. But I love you, Haruka, and if there’s any way I can find to keep you, I’ll do it.”
“Michi, I’m not nearly good enough for you. I don’t have the things you need. I can’t even ride a horse.”
“The fact that you tried is proof enough that you’re too good for me.” She gave a small half smile, more vulnerable than Haruka had ever seen her. “Maybe we don’t have anything in common, and maybe it won’t work, but I’m in love with you, Haruka.”
Haruka swallowed again. “Well, you know, I guess that’s one thing in common we have.”
Michiru looked at her in askance.
“I’m in love with you, too.”
She sighed. “You don’t have to say it just because I did, I’ve had quite enough of social niceties for the day.”
“Michi, I got thrown off a horse trying to prove myself to you, I wouldn’t do that for just any girl. I love you.” She leaned forward and kissed her, soft and slow. “I love you, Michiru.”
Michiru’s eyes traced up from Haruka’s lips to her eyes. “I love you, Haruka.” She shook her head. “We’ve both been such idiots today, haven’t we?”
Haruka laughed. “Hey, there’s another thing we’ve got.”
“I suppose that’s true.” She smiled. “Now, let’s get your shoulder checked out, and then never come back here again.” She stood and offered her hand to Haruka.
SittingOverHereDreaming 