Tag: sam writes

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Brought on by that one post in my liveblog about Haruka thinking Michiru wants to draw her like one of her french girls, it’s a fic!

Laid Bare

~1800 words

A misunderstanding leads to surprising, quiet intimacy when Michiru asks to draw Haruka. Set durring S.

The apartment was quiet when Michiru got home. They were in a rare streak of quiet days, equal parts blessing and curse. She worried when Haruka was left with her thoughts too long.

“Michiru?” she called out as if on cue.

She sat in her usual perch by the window– she brooded like a butch but also like a bird, settling in where she could still touch the sky. The setting sun turned the whole city red behind her. Against that backdrop Haruka was bright and shadowy all at once.

“You know,” Michiru said without thinking, “I would still very much like to draw you sometime.”

Haruka looked up, torn from her cycle of thoughts by surprise. “Y-yeah?” She shifted, scratched her neck. “I thought that might have just been a ruse.”

To an extent, it had been, but not the way Haruka thought. She hadn’t wanted to talk her in or out of being a senshi. She’d wanted to enter that particular space of artist and model, where there could be no walls because if you blocked seeing one way you blocked it the other. She always went through art teachers quickly because of that. She didn’t need to keep anyone who saw in past her facade. Though if Haruka would agree, she’d like to keep her.

“I don’t know if I’d be a good model.” Haruka leaned back. Her movements became stiff. Michiru smiled. Haruka had grace until she knew someone was watching, and then she either overplayed or froze up. “I’ll probably move a lot, or sit wrong.”

“That’s okay.”

Michiru put on a smile and waited. She felt an old buzz in her hands, the one that made her pull on her clothes as a child. She’d since learned not to stress the fabric so, and, more importantly, not to show her weakness.

Haruka turned towards the window. “I mean, I guess if you really want to, it’s no trouble to me.”

“Let me get my pencils.”

She returned and Haruka stood. “You can stay in the window if you like.”

“Okay, this is just easier for…” She cleared her throat and adjusted her collar. “Are you sure about this?”

Michiru made sure to look her in the eye. Haruka didn’t always trust her without that. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Haruka undid her collar button. “Okay.”

She fumbled open a few more buttons. Michiru froze.

“Haruka,” she said, gently as she could. “What are you doing?”

Haruka cocked her head like it was a trick question. “I’m getting ready so you can draw me?”

“I assure you you don’t have to have your shirt quite so open.”

“Oh um, I can’t pull it over my head.”

“What?”

Haruka’s brow furrowed in her Is this another weird rich person thing? face. “It doesn’t come over my head. It’s fitted a certain way, I have to unbutton it.”

“You’re taking it off?”

“Yeah? You said you wanted to draw me.”

“Oh.” Michiru had had life drawing classes, her parents had paid enough to bypass age limits so that she would learn, but this was different. “I didn’t mean– not like that.” No wonder she had said no. Michiru felt all the accusations she hadn’t said. Creep. Monster. “I’m not like that, Haruka, I wouldn’t…”

“Oh.”

Haruka turned away. She wrestled her buttons back into place. “Let’s just forget this whole thing. I’ve been really stupid.”

“Wait–”

But Haruka fled to her room.

Michiru sank to the floor next to her door, marveling that a little thing like this could go so wrong. She rubbed her pencil back and forth on a page, mindlessly wasting the led.  The shadows grew long and overtook the apartment.

Alone in the dark, she confessed– “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Something banged into the other side of the door. “What?”

Michiru jumped. She’d expected Haruka to be in bed, out of earshot. “I can’t promise I’m not a monster, but I don’t want to scare you.”

The knob rattled for a moment, but then Haruka seemed to think better of it. “I’m only scared of you seeing me, and of you not wanting to see me,” she whispered through the door. “I know your feelings were fleeting, but I want to be in your head as something beautiful.”

“They weren’t fleeting.” Her greatest sin. “I don’t want to get you hurt.”

Haruka’s fingertips appeared under the door. Michiru slid hers into the spaces between them.

“Would you have said yes that day, had you not thought…?”

“Not yes, exactly. I wanted you to think I didn’t care. But…You don’t scare me, but meeting the girl of– the girl from my dreams did. And when I thought you wanted… I couldn’t risk you seeing me, seeing how unworthy I am.”

“You’re not… You’re a lot more than I can express.” Michiru dared a squeeze of her hand. “You were going to let me see you now.”

“I just.” Haruka’s head thumped against the door. “I figured there’s no use hiding. You know my darkest sins. You might as well judge me for all that I am.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Haruka.” Michiru wished, just once, she could pull Haruka in and kiss her the way she deserved to be kissed. Michiru herself didn’t deserve that, with what they had to do, what she’d gotten Haruka into. But she wished. “It would be nice. Seeing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I never…” Never what? She’d drawn naked figures, naked women. But this was something else. “Would you want to, really?”

“I think so.” Haruka squeezed Michiru’s hand with her fingers. “It’s stupid, maybe, but I’d like it if you drew me like that.”

“Do… do you want to come out?”

“Or you could come in here. Maybe.”

“Okay.” She pulled the door open with a shaking hand. Haruka’s room was too big for her, spacious and sterile save for the area around the bed, when clothes and blankets formed heaps on the floor. A desk sat untouched against the wall.

Haruka stood, face pink. “Is this okay?”

Michiru nodded. “I could sit over here, if you wanted to be…” She gestured to the bed. “You should be comfortable, at least.”

Haruka let out a single laugh. “I’d have to trade bodies with someone for that.” She cracked her knuckles. “Do you turn around, or do I just–”

“I can turn.”

The room was warm, suddenly, knowing Haruka was undressing behind her. Fear ledged in her throat. She had to react right when she saw. Neutral. Or maybe not quite, too neutral and Haruka might take it badly. But Michiru wouldn’t want her to think–

“Okay.”

Michiru turned the little desk chair around before she looked, but there still wasn’t time to sort herself out. And then, there Haruka was, looking both incredibly human and entirely extraordinary. She sat cross-legged on the bed. She leaned with her hands on her ankles, her body folding forward with a crease at her stomach. The comforter poofed soft around the hard lines of her body. Even things Michiru saw everyday– the shape of her hands, the curve of her neck and the wave in her hair– took on a new beauty in their full context. She could not but stare for a long moment.

“Am I okay?”

Her breath left her all at once. “You’re… art. All on your own.”

Haruka flushed deep red. “You don’t have to go that far.”

“You’ll find,” Michiru said, finding the ground to right herself for a moment as she put pencil to paper, “That I’m in such a position that I rarely have to do anything.”

“What, are you going to buy me self-esteem?” Haruka rocked forward with a little smile, then faltered. “Am I moving too much?”

“You’re fine.” Their eyes met, and for once Michiru let them linger. “I’ve never drawn anyone I knew. Just models.”

“I probably don’t look anything like them.”

“Well, no, but they didn’t look like you think, either. Art class models are supposed to give a grasp of different sorts of bodies.” She focused on her sketchbook. “I like you better than any sort of model, though.”

“You too.” Haruka put her face in her hands. “I mean… You know.”

“Can you put your hands where they were? It’s alright.” Her own cheeks felt warm. “It’s hard to say things a lot of the time.”

“How can you say that? You’re always so…” She rose her hand again to shake as she found the word. “Eloquent.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m saying what I want.” Michiru let herself smile. “I couldn’t ask you for a ride in your car, could I?”

“And I can’t ask you to run away with me.”

Michiru paused. “If we could, where would we go?”

“I dunno. We could get anywhere with your money, and then I’d get some job to keep us there. I’m handy, maybe a mechanic.” She rocked again. “We could get a little place and let the whole destiny thing pass us by.”

“You wouldn’t be happy.”

“Not with that part. I want the right thing, just not the hard parts.”

“I don’t even want that.” Her hand moved in fast strokes for Haruka’s hair. “If we get through this, this whole mess, will you go somewhere with me? I don’t care where, just. Away.”

“Yeah.”

They sat with only the sound of pencil strokes for a long while. Haruka moved in little bits. Michiru ached, both with the heart of an artists and that of a lover, to see all the shapes her body could form. Every twitch gave her a new perspective she wanted time to explore. But this was all she had. Too soon she found herself shading the smallest details.

“I’m scared to show you.”

“All your work is brilliant, Michiru.”

“But this doesn’t capture you, not really.” And once she declared it done, the moment would pass, and things would go back to how they were. “You won’t see how you really look.”

Haruka didn’t push, so maybe she understood.

Michiru paused above the finished drawing. It was beautiful, the shadows played across the black and white Haruka in a way that drew the eye over all her angles and curves. It wasn’t like the real Haruka, but it was close.

“I won’t look if you don’t want.”

“You can.”

Haruka pulled the comforter around her body and padded over. She looked over Michiru’s shoulder, then sank to the floor. “You made me look handsome,” she whispered.

“That’s just what you look like.”

Haruka looked up, her eyes big and vulnerable. “Can we just… sit here awhile longer?”

“I’d like that.”

By morning, they’d be back in the same dance around each other, but for tonight, there was nothing left between them.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Alrighty here is my entry for Doc’s birthday contest, for the prompt “I won’t leave you.” T e c h n i c a l l y it’s a sequel to a much older fic, because that’s where the idea took me, but I did my best to make it stand on its own (especially because the old fic is… not so good looking back on it now).

The Edge
~1100 words
After a battle that wipes out Usagi and most of the Senshi, all that’s left of Minako is Venus, or so it seems. Haruka won’t accept Mina’s gone for good.

Haruka had
thought the hardest part was behind her. She’d dragged herself through the
despair, she’d kept going, she’d gotten what help she needed to get here. But
now, seeing that long blonde hair in the moonlight, she knew the hardest part
was yet to come.

“Mina!” she
yelled, to no response. The wind blew strong here on the cliff, but she feared
it hadn’t swallowed the sound. With a deep breath and a heaviness in her gut,
she tried again: “Venus!”

Venus did
not turn, merely rose a hand over the space beside her. Haruka walked up
slowly. The terrain felt uncertain under her feet, each rock ready to tumble
into the ravine below. Venus stood right on the edge. The toes of her shoes
curled over. Haruka had the obscene urge to make a toe the line joke.

“Why are you
here, Uranus?”

“I came for
you. Why are you here?”

Venus stared
up at the moon. Her eyes had gone gold, a pale, inhuman yellow that spoke of
power. “I don’t know.” Her face contorted, but the gold eyes did not tear.
Haruka wondered if they even could. “Last time it was quick. She died, we
failed, our right to exist ended until we could try again to prove ourselves
worthy.”

She shifted
her weight back and forth. Haruka reached for her hand, but Venus tolerated no
touch. “There was nothing we could do.”

“You would
say that.” Venus looked at Haruka for the first time, and even though her face
bore nothing but contempt, Haruka felt relief. “You never were cut out for
this. But I’m not like you. I could have saved her. I exist to save her.”

“I don’t
think that’s true,” Haruka said, slow and careful. “I think you exist for more
than that.”

“There is
nothing more.”

Venus turned
back towards the moon, and despair washed back over Haruka. There had been
things she could have done, she could have saved Usagi and Michiru and the rest
of them. But she was here and they were gone and all the hold she’d fought to
have on keeping on started to slip away. She’d ostensibly come for Mina, but really
she’d come for herself. She needed Mina, needed to know she could save
something. And she couldn’t. She looked over the cliff. It didn’t call to her,
the way holing up and drinking until she slipped away had. Part of her felt
almost cowardly for it.

“I can’t do
it either,” Venus said, her voice barely loud enough to cut through the wind. “It’s
what I’m supposed to do, isn’t it? Die for duty, or the loss of it.” For a
moment, Haruka saw Minako, the nights they’d stared down what it all meant, the
secret tears Mina had shed knowing her whole life wasn’t really hers. “I’m not
the soldier I’m supposed to be.”

“Mina…”

A misstep.
Venus slammed back to rigidity. “You may go.”

“I won’t
leave you.”

“It wasn’t a
question, Uranus. I’m your commander and I’m ordering you to leave.”

“Well, I’m a
bad soldier, aren’t I? That’s what you always say.” Haruka felt tears sting in
her own eyes. She wiped them away. “I need you, okay? I don’t have anything else
left. And neither do you, maybe. Just me.”

She waited
for Venus to tell her she was nothing. She heard it in her head, that she was
worthless, that she shouldn’t have the audacity to think she could mean
anything, but the words never came aloud. Venus’s shoulders slumped.

“Do you remember
being Mina?” Haruka dared to ask in a whisper.

“I wish I
didn’t.”

“Well, Mina
wished she remembered less of being you, so I guess you’re even.”

Venus shook her head. “I never should
have been that girl. She made me weak.” She spat into the abyss. “I
lost sight of the important things.”

Haruka sat and let her legs dangle and stared
at the distant dark line of the horizon. “You used to tell me there was
nothing more important than a good time.”

“I know that,” Venus
snarled. “I know who I was, I know all my failings.”

“They’re not failings to me. And they
weren’t to her, either.”

“Of course they were, Serenity is dead.”

“But she lived, and she loved you.”
Haruka looked up. There was a knot in her chest, she couldn’t help thinking of
Michiru and her own failings. “And I still love you. And Rei–”

“Don’t.”

“Rei and Usagi would both kick your ass
for this. Or well, Rei would try and Usagi would cry on you. But they’re not
here, so I have to do it for them.”

“As if you could.” Venus sniffed,
halfway between a sob and a smile. There were
tears in her pale eyes. 

“I could do it Usagi’s way. There’s
plenty to cry about.” She looked at Venus, daring to see Minako still
inside her. “You miss them, don’t you? Who they were this time?”

Venus sat down, seeming to shrink into a more
human form. “Isn’t it enough that I failed? The grand golden soldier has
fallen. Isn’t that enough despair? I don’t want to be the girl who feels more
than that.” She put her head on her knees. “I’ve been through this
before. I loved Serenity as my liege.”

And now you love her and everyone else as
people, but Haruka knew better than to
say it so plainly. “I don’t remember that life much. But I understand
some.” She picked up a rock and bounced it in her hand. “I was gonna
let myself disappear, in that little house Michiru bought us. Just hide out
until the world went on without me. Because how can I go on without Michiru?
And the rest of them?” She threw her rock hard over the edge. “But
I’ve got you, and if I can do anything for you, that might be enough for
me.”

Venus’s chest heaved. “I don’t know if I
can do this, Haruka.” She sobbed and clawed at the frayed edges of her
skirt.

“Neither do
I. But I’m gonna try for you.”

“It’s easier
to let Venus take over. She’s always been ready, and this… she can get through
this.”

“Maybe we
can too.” Haruka rubbed her back as Mina’s transformation faded and the
tattered material of her fuku turned to soft cotton under her fingers. She sat
in the t-shirt she’d been in before this whole mess started. It would have been
like nothing had happened if not for the bruises and cuts making abstract art
across her skin. “I love you, Mina.”

Minako
sobbed, big heaving sobs of a kind even Usagi had never matched. Haruka pulled
her close. She clung on, like Haruka was all she had in the world, and maybe
she was.

“Don’t let
me go, Haruka. Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t.”
Haruka held her tight. “I can’t promise we’re gonna be okay, but I promise we’re
gonna be here.”

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

This is a little something that stuck in my head after @rhiorhino‘s ask about Pluto and this post in @keyofjetwolf‘s PE liveblog. It’s different from my usual stuff, so take it as you will.

Being Human
~750 words, Minako & Setsuna

Setsuna is surprised when there’s a knock at the door. She’s
still getting used to surprise, that particular human reaction, beyond the mere
unexpected. There were never any true surprises at the door. She spent to long
examining what could come to be for that.

She moves to the door. There is a peep hole, but she chooses
not to look. She savors the surprise while she can have it, Time only knows how
long she’ll get this form. She turns the knob, and out in the hall is someone
she’d never have guessed would be there.

“Can I come in?” Minako asks. A plastic convenience store
bag hangs in the crook of her elbow, hiding a small box. Setsuna nods and moves
aside.

Minako sets her bag down on the little kitchen table and surveys
the walls and shelves. “You’ve made it nice here.”

“Thank you.”

“I probably shouldn’t say so, but I half expect it to be
totally blank. Bare, I mean, besides necessities.”

Setsuna smiled. She had jumped at the opportunity to have a
home rather than just an inhabitance. It may have been frivolous, but she’d scouted
thrift stores and flea markets for bright rugs and paintings and knick-knacks, filling
every corner of her little apartment with color and warmth and reminders of all
life could be. “Have I given you that impression of who I am?”

“No.” Minako runs her fingers around the edge of a red
placemat. “And I’m glad for it.” She looks up through her bangs, a gesture
Setsuna knows is uncharacteristically shy. “We’re not so different, you and I.”

It is not a comparison she would have made on her own, but
Setsuna sees it. They remember, the two of them, and they are bound by the
past. “I suppose that’s true.”

“I’m happy you’re here,” Minako says, and Setsuna understand
she does not mean in the apartment. “And I thought it might be nice for you to
have something.” She reaches into the plastic bag and pulls out a tin of tea. “I
wasn’t sure what you would like, but this seemed right.”

Setsuna takes it from her to examine. The tin bears a simple
design, all rich shades of burnt orange save for white letters—Hot Cinnamon
Spice. She opens the top and breathes in the sharp scent of the tea. Something rolls
over in her chest, or so it feels. She realizes she’s never been given a gift
before.

“Would you like to have some with me?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Setsuna finds her eyes tearing as she retrieves her newly
bought tea set from her cabinet. “I didn’t think I’d actually be using this,”
she admits.

Minako smiles. “Use everything at least once. Break some of
it.” She takes a seat and tilts her chair back on two legs. “This isn’t like
then. Nothing’s pristine or royal, except technically Usagi. And even then, she
doesn’t need the same sort of coddling.”

“Queen Serenity would be appalled to hear that.”

“Queen Serenity would be appalled about a lot of things. But
hey, she’s the one who made us human.” She frowns, looking Setsuna over. “Or
most of us, anyway.”

“I’m not sure how it works either, before you ask,” Setsuna
says, pouring water into two porcelain cups. “This may well be a hiccup in her
parting wish.”

“Whatever it is, you deserve the break.” Minako takes a
small sip of the tea. “We all deserve to be a little something more than what
she made us.”

It is hard sometimes, even from afar at her door, to see
both the soldier and the child in any of the girls. Sometimes they are so much
the Silver Millenuim warriors, living and fighting and dying for their cause,
but sometimes they are children, true children the way none of them had ever
gotten to be in that life. Now, here at this little kitchen table, Setsuna sees
both in Minako, feels something like both in herself, though she is by no
standard a child. She reaches for Mianko’s hand before she can think herself
out of it. “It’s strange to be so human.”

“It’s strange to be so alien. But you’ll get used to it.”

The tea is warm, both in temperature and the way it makes
Setsuna’s chest feel, the way the flavor seems to curl into her soul.  “Tell me about it. Tell be about being human.”

Minako smiles. They talk until the tea is long gone.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

I’M ACTUALLY FOLLOWING UP ON THAT VIGILANTE JUSTICE TEAM POST I MADE. THIS WAS WRITTEN ENTIRELY ON MY PHONE BUT I DID IT.

The Night Team, Part 1
1200 words

Mina pressed her back against a
wall as a shadow ghosted through a streetlight. The whole block was empty
besides her and whatever that was.

Everyone knew strange things
happened at night. Everyone knew not to go out if they could avoid it. But she
couldn’t avoid it. Her parents had been screaming again–well, her mother had
been screaming, her father had been taking it silently as he always did– and
she knew that if she opened the front door, the screaming would turn on her.
Mina could handle it, but in recent days the threat had turned from being
grounded to being kicked out, and it was safer to risk a few hours on the dark
streets than sleeping on them.

The shadow rippled through another
street light. Its shape was indistinct but large. Mina couldn’t track its movements
with her eyes. It was close, and then yards away, and then close again. The
working streetlights were too far apart. She pulled her book bag off her
shoulder. It wasn’t much– for once she wished she’d actually brought school
books home– but if she could startle whatever it was, she might be able to run
for it.

She pulled the strap short and
tight in her hand. She’d have one swing, if she was lucky. “Show yourself!
You know you have me corned.”

A shadow came into the nearest
streetlight, and another in the next, on her other side.

“Fuck.”

Fear shot down her stomach and
curled her toes. She had to try something. Bag in had, she charged towards the
further shadow. As the nearer one turned, she pivoted towards it, threw her bag
at what she hoped was its face, and ran past it. 

Minako heard them give chase. She
needed to find somewhere– a store, a library, anything that was open. Not much
would be at this hour. There was little sense in enticing people to be out in
the dark. There was no where to go. It was dark street after dark street every
where she turned. It would be a matter of who could run longer and as for as
Mina might have been she wouldn’t bet on winning that one. The thought made her
noticed the ragged measure of her breath. Her heart beat up against the wall of
her chest. Girls like her had died like this. What picture would the paper use?
What picture would her mother give them?

A flash of light came out from an
alley as she passed. “Keep going!” Someone yelled from behind it.

Mina knew the smart thing to do
was keep going, but she stopped to watch as a lanky girl with short hair
sprinted out from the alley with a flashlight. The shadows shrieked in the
beam. Lit from below, they didn’t look like shadows at all– just bulky,
misshapen creatures with fur and teeth and claws. Frightening, still, but not
the same mysterious terror they had been.

One of the monsters charged. Mina
saw immediately it was a mistake. The girl sidestepped, quick as a feather in
the wind, letting momentum bring the monster low and ramming her elbow into the
back of its neck. It crumpled to the ground.

But there was still the second. It
stood back. Watching. Learning.

“Come on,” the girl
taunted cocking her head to the side. “You scared?”

The monster did not take the bait. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Mina
said.

The girl snorted. “I’ve been
dealing with these guys for a while. You should have kept running.”

Mina didn’t take her eyes off the
monster. 

“No one runs when they
should.” The girl’s fists balled around the baggy ends of her tank top.

The monster’s stance
changed.

Mina braced herself. “Shut up
and get ready.

"What?”

But the monster was already
moving. It zig zagged towards the girl, light on its oversized feet.

Mina launched herself forward,
tackling the girl down just as the monster swiped at her head. 

“Stop distracting me!”

“Distracting you? I just
saved your stupid ass. Now move.” She pulled the girl up into a run before
the monster could bear down on them. 

“No.” The girl yanked
her arm away. “I don’t run. I fight.” She stood to face the monster
head on, met it hand to hand. She’d lose. She was tall, and even fairly strong
looking, but wiry as hell. She braced with her legs as it pushed her back. She
held her ground better than Mina expected. But then the tension left her legs.
The girl smiled, clearly thinking she was winning.

 It’s going to throw
her. 

 Mina knew better than to shout.
She launched herself quick as she could towards them, though even if she made
it in time she wasn’t sure what she could do. 

 The monster pulled the girl off
the ground and flung her back.

Right into a figure Mina hadn’t
seen approaching– taller still than the first girl, but built like a tank. Her
hair curled out wild in a ponytail behind her head. A baseball bat clattered to
the street as she fell back under the weight of impact, but once on the ground
she set the first girl to the side with ease and picked it back up. 

“Consider this payback for
last time,” she said, her voice deep and reassuring.

The monster started to run, but
not quick enough. The bat gave the second girl reach. Its skull gave a
sickening crunch.

 "Thanks,“ said the first
girl, getting up with a wince. "But I had it handled.”

The bigger girl snorted. “You
helped me so I helped you. That’s all there is to it.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Wait a fucking second.”

They both turned to Mina,
bewildered.

“If I’m getting this right,
you both fight these things out here a lot.”

They nodded.

“And you’ve encountered each
other before.”

Nods.

“And you’re still both going
it alone? You’re gonna get killed.”

 They both had the decency to look
sheepish. 

 "Well I–“

 "It’s better to not bring
other people into this–”

 "She could get hurt–“

 "And I do better
alone–”

 Mina held up her hands. “Not
having it. You both saved me tonight. Without both of you, I’d probably be dead. And
you–” she pointed at the lanky girl. “Would be dead without the two
of us. So from now on, we’re gonna team up." 

 ”We?“
The two girls looked down at her. 

"Oh please. I can’t say as
much for you…”

“Makoto.”

“Makoto, but yo-”

“Haruka.”

 "You need someone clever and
observant. A strategist.“

 Haruka crossed her arms with a
huff. "And that’s you?”

 "Yeah. That thing was
learning as it fought you. I might not be as strong as the two of you, but I
can see what you miss.“

Makoto looked her up and down.
"What’s your name?”

 "Minako. You can call me
Mina.“

 Her shoulders rose. She scratched
the back of her head and looked to the ground. "You really want to be out
here with me? Er, us?”

 Mina shrugged. “What else am
I gonna do at night? Homework?”

 Makoto smiled. Even Haruka gave a
small puff of a laugh. 

 "You know,“ Makoto said,
putting a strong callused hand on Mina’s shoulder, "I think this might
just work out pretty good.”

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

I’m going ahead and posting my entry for @docholligay‘s contest. It was super fun to try and write for her, one of my favorite things about writing on here in general is knowing my readers.

Keep Her
~1K words, HaruMichi

Michiru Kaioh was not a nervous person. Excepting childhood,
she could count the times she’d been truly scared on her fingers, and that was
counting the war. This was different. This was… She pressed one shaking hand
against her stomach. She should run a bath. Haruka loved baths. It would get
her calm, and then maybe Michiru could tell her.

The water calmed her, too, a little, as it always had. Their
bathtub was no ocean, certainly, but it cared just as little and could drown
someone all the same. Michiru took a deep breath of the steamy air. Haruka
would be home any minute. She should choose a bath bomb for her, she had a
secret stash to pull from for surprises. She’d bought chocolates, the
overpriced box Haruka loved, earlier in her initial panic. Part of her felt it
could be a lovely night. It could be a celebration. But the fear wouldn’t leave
her.  

Haruka wanted this. They’d done it together, all the
paperwork, the doctor visits, everything. But what Michiru’s parents had told
her brother years ago kept playing in her head—Don’t let any girl get pregnant
by you, that’s how they trap you. Haruka was already bound to her in too many
ways. Michiru wondered sometimes what would happen if her illusion of love
broke, if she saw Michiru for what she was and nothing more. Haruka did not
seem the type for divorce, and she certainly didn’t seem the type to cut ties
after all they’d been through together. Add a child, and she’d never leave.

Michiru swirled the water through the tub. It was a little
too warm, but she kept her hand in. Had she gone through with it to keep
Haruka? She’d never wanted a child for herself. Through all the lead up she’d
let herself think that it was all for Haruka’s happiness. But Michiru knew
herself to be a selfish creature. She’d do anything for Haruka, anything to
keep hold of that which she desired most. This could be the moment Haruka
realized. She’d see the trap was set. Maybe Michiru should say nothing, do away
with it all, and—

A key turned in the front door. “Michiru? I’m home.”

Michiru rose from the side of the tub and smoothed her
skirt. She couldn’t drain the bath in time, and she was in no state to lie.
Haruka would know something was wrong, and if Haruka would know, there was no
point in trying. She made her way out to the living room just as Haruka hung
her coat.

“Did you have a good day, love?”

“Eh, it was fine.” Haruka turned. “Are you okay? You look
shaken.”

“I’m fine.” Michiru tried to smile. “I’ve run you a bath if
you’d like to relax. Or we could eat first. It’s up to you.”

Haruka pulled her close. “Michi. Talk to me. Did something
happen with…”

Michiru hesitated, heart pounding its way into her throat,
and then slowly nodded against Haruka’s chest. Haruka’s arms squeezed tighter
around her.

“I’m so sorry, Michiru. We can—we can find another way, it
doesn’t have to—“

“No, not like that.”

Haruka pulled away just enough to look at her. “What
happened?”

“I…” Tears welled in her eyes unbidden; it seemed to Michiru
this moment was the fulcrum everything rested on, it could tilt wildly either
way from here. It would be wonderful or terrible and there was nothing in
between, no balance at all. “Do you really want a baby with me, Haruka?”

Haruka tilted her head in askance. “I do, more than almost
anything, but if you don’t want to we can stop, I’m sorry, I—“

Michiru shook her head again. “I’m doing this poorly. I’m
sorry, Haruka, I’m scared.”

“Oh Michi.” Haruka brushed a tear from her cheek. “It’s
okay. I’m gonna be right here for the whole thing.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Of course.”

Michiru burried her head into Haruka’s chest. The sound of
her heartbeat made her brave, that soft reminder of what she lived for. “Haruka,
I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

The moment Haruka pulled away seemed to last forever, the
fear crested back over Michiru and crashed through her, but then Haruka put her
hands over her mouth, her eyes glassy.

“We’re having a baby?”

Michiru could only nod.

“A baby,” Haruka
said again, a most reverent whisper. She put her hands gently on Michiru’s
waist. Her eyes were big and terrified. “Are you… are you okay with this? I
know… I know it’s mostly been me, and that’s not fair, and you’ve been on board
but if it’s too much now that it’s real, it’s okay.”

“I want this, Haruka,” she whispered. “Is that okay?”

“It’s wonderful, Michi, I want it so bad.” Haruka nuzzled
into Michiru’s hair. Her chest heaved and Michiru felt the tears against her
scalp. For a long moment they cried into each other. “It’s really gonna happen?
You’ve really got a baby inside you?”

“I do, love.”

“Can I talk to it?”

Michiru nodded. Haruka got down on her knees and stroked the
material over Michiru’s stomach. “Hey, little buddy. I’m your Papa. You’re Mama’s
here too, but you’re inside her. You’re not gonna see us for a while yet, but
we’re always gonna be here for you, and we love you. Okay? You’re a loved little
baby.” She kissed Michiru’s stomach through her dress. “Was that okay?”

“Oh Haruka.” She pulled her up into her arms. “I love you.”

“I love you, Michi. We’re having a baby.” Haruka squeezed
her tight, then picked her up and spun her around. “We’re having a baby!” She
yelled, laughing. “A beautiful little baby!”

Michiru could not help but laugh along, the fear in her chest
finally giving way to the joy of the moment. She let Haruka dance her around
the room, singing the song of their future. Maybe she’d done it all to keep
Haruka, maybe Haruka would resent her later. But now, they were happy—a happy
little family. And with Haruka’s contagious smile, Michiru could believe that
mattered more than the rest of it.

Cheiloproclitic – Being attracted to someones lips. (Harumichi)

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

“Now, almost kiss… hold it right there.”

Michiru was used to being posed. To her family, she’d been
more doll than daughter, always set to impress at their tea party of a life.
She’d preened for journalists covering the latest Kaioh project, she’d modeled
for art classes when it was her turn. This was no different.

But it was entirely different.

She’d never been posed before her wife. Her wife of only an
hour, in her sharp gray wedding suit and blue tie, the sun in her hair
sparkling like a god’s laurel crown. Haruka’s body was warm and inviting under
her hands. Her breath alighted on Michiru’s face with the ghost of the kiss
they were holding back. And her lips… Michiru fought to stay still for the
photo. She could not say she’d never noticed how sumptuous Haruka’s lips were, she’d
drawn them too often to be anything but intimately familiar, but now her desire
for them all but over took her.

The camera clicked and clicked again. Her lips began to
tremble. They’d kissed, their first kiss and many more after, but Michiru
wanted, needed more. She wanted Haruka’s lips on hers, on her neck, down her
body. She wanted her wife. The reception could wait, surely. She needed her
wife, to feel all that was hers, to seal their promise everyway she knew how,
she needed, she needed—

“Okay, good.”

Michiru could not hold back. She kissed Haruka deeply—briefly,
compared to what she wanted, but deeply. Haruka lingered as she pulled away,
eyes closed.

“God, Michi,” she whispered. “I want you so bad.”

Michiru smiled, glad at least to know she was not suffering
alone. “You have me, love.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do indeed.”

“Here, in front of these flowers,” the photographer called
to them.

Michiru sighed and resigned herself to a very difficult
evening.

Petrichor – The smell of dry rain on the ground. (It’s actually rain on dry ground, prompt writer) Haruka

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

YOUR CORRECTION MADE ME SNORT

This is rough, but my goal was to get something out and I did that.

——

It reminded Haruka of a time long past, when she’d run to
purposefully get caught in the rain. She’d run until she felt the first drops
start, feel them mix with the sweat on her skin, and wait for the sky to open
for her fully. Walking miles in the rain was a misery, but a simple misery. She
could strip down at the end and say she was stupid for getting caught, that her
shoes would be soaked for days and it pissed her off, and for a little while
she had an easy pain to focus on.

The drops got more frequent, sprinkling dark dots into the
sand. Haruka breathed deep to let the scent wash over her.

“Papa, it’s raining!”

Haruka snapped to attention and rummaged through the bag
she’d put in their wagon. “You want your coat, sweetie?”

“No, it’s warm.” Himeka sat down on the jungle gym bridge
and let her feet dangle. “But nobody’s here.”

“That’s true. They’re all a bit smarter than your papa.”

“No! You’re the smartest. You made me queen of the
playground, see?” She stood up and held out her arms. “It’s all mine.”

“Just be careful, it might get slippery. Your highness.”

Himeka laughed. “I’m your highnest!” She came down the slide
and hopped over to Haruka. “That means you got to pull me all the way home.”

“Does it now?”

“No questions. Highnest!”

Haruka chuckled and scooped her into the wagon. “I suppose
you’re right. Onwards, then.” She pulled the wagon along, somewhat regretting
packing the equivalent of a second Himeka’s worth of stuff into their bag.

“Through the puddles, Papa! Puddles!”

Haruka ran so water splashed up the sides of the wagon. The
aches started sooner now, almost as soon as her socks soaked through. In the
days of the war, she never thought she’d ache as much as she did then. It was a
different wariness now, but it made Haruka chuckle. She’d been so miserable in
the midst of it, and now the ache in her bones was a happy one.

She and Himeka stripped out of their clothes together when
they got in. They sat in front of the dryer wrapped in fluffy towels. “I used
to run in the rain a lot you know.”

Himeka nodded. “It’s fun. Like trouble, but without getting in trouble.”

“I didn’t think of it that way.” Haruka laughed. “I think it
was more like putting myself in time out.”

“That’s silly, Papa.” Himeka frowned. “You didn’t do
anything bad.”

Haruka smiled and ruffled Himeka’s hair. There was little
point, she found, in explaining her guilt, especially to a five year old with
no idea of what had happened. “Your papa is a bit silly sometimes.”

“It’s okay, I’m silly too.” She lifted her towel around her
and scooted over into Haruka’s lap. “We can be silly together.”

Haruka pulled her into her arms. “You’re the best girl, you
know that?” She leaned against the laundry room wall and let the hum of the
dryer lull them both to sleep.

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Sometimes, even the most dutiful soldiers dream of the impossible

———————————

“Sometimes I think we should just.” Mina took a long drink. “Just hop in your car and leave it all behind.”

“Blaze away like outlaws?” Haruka laughed, and wasn’t quite drunk enough not to feel the strain on her bruised ribs.
Mina sloshed her drink around her bottle in a circle. She had a way of making beer look glamorous, if sometimes also tragic.

“You know who I was before all this? Who I could have been? Could still be if we just–” she gestured widely into the ether. “Don’t we deserve our lives? Our happiness?”

Haruka took a deep drink. “Let’s do it. Jet off at first light, not tell a soul.”

“You’ll do freelance mechanic work at truck stops to keep us going.”

“You’ll pickpocket the truckers and I’ll pretend not to notice where our money really comes from.”

Mina laughed, big and wild. “You’ve gotten too smart. This whole thing is ruining you.”

“We’ll have time to undo it. A simple life will make me simple.”

“We’ll never do any of this,” she indicated their bandages, “again. We’ll never fight, except for your stupid ego, we’ll never deal with damn premonitions of doom. Our future will be ours to make.” She hiccuped. “We won’t have duty, or destiny, or– or /her/.” Mina shook, but not from hiccups. “We won’t have a princess, we won’t have to protect her.” The tears started, big gobby tears that ate their way down her checks. “We won’t have stupid beautiful Usagi, or Rei breathing down our necks, or Mako throwing herself in dangers way, or, or, or any of it.” She wrapped her arms around herself. Haruka pulled her head onto her shoulder and let the tears soak through her shirt. “We’ll be free,” Mina sobbed. “All we have to do is leave.”

“We’ll be free,” Haruka whispered as gentle as she could this tipsy. “We’ll leave in the morning. First thing.”

She rubbed Mina’s back as she cried, offering empty promises until they both fell asleep on the couch.

Michiru, Autumn

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

This is more mini-fic than headcanon and is only tangentially related to autumn, BUT OH WELL
———
“We do not cry in public, Michiru,” her mother had said on her first day of school, when the fear of the unknown had threatened to well up in her eyes. “You are a Kaioh.”
She’d put a hand on the small of Michiru’s back to fix her posture and sent her forth, more a wind up doll than a child. The other kids were wild, frizzy haired and careless. Michiru stayed contained. When the teachers said they were to finger paint their name tags, Michiru asked for a brush, and when they came around to write names over the paint Michiru’s was already there in careful blue lettering. She had been there to excel, to show off the tutoring her family had paid for. She was not there to learn, and most certainly not to make friends.

And now she hoped the exact opposite for her daughter.

“It’ll be okay, papa,” Himeka said, standing on tip toe as Haruka crouched to hug her. Her little Mary Janes were already scuffed at the toes from the walk there.

“Are you gonna be okay? You can call us if you need us.” Haruka’s tears left little wet dots in the shoulder of Himeka’s sweater.

“I’ll be fine, papa. Kimi’s in my class, remember? We ‘quested.”

“How are you so grown up already?” Haruka stood and wiped her eyes. “We’re gonna miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too, papa.” She turned to Michiru now. The confidence on her eyes gave way to vulnerability. Michiru crouched to meet her. “Will I be okay?” She whispered into her ear.

Michiru hugged her tight. “You’re going to be great, little bear.”

Himeka let out a little sob. Michiru stroked her hair. “We’re gonna be right here at the end of the day, and you can tell us all about your teachers and Kimi and all the other friends you make.”

“What if I don’t make any?”

“Then…” Michiru but back words about the other children not being worthy of her. “Then you’ll try again tomorrow. But you’ll always have us.”

Himeka nodded. Michiru gave her a kiss on her cheek and watched she ran to find Kimi.

“You’re crying,” Haruka said, taking her hand.

Michiru laughed. “I am.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry in public before.”

Michiru leaned into her. “It’s been a long time. But this is worth it.”

YES SAM WRITING: Haruka, Love

~ sittingoverheredreaming ~ Leave a comment

Haruka has always classified herself as unlovable. With her
mother she was alternately an asset and a burden, but never a beloved child.
(She was absolutely the kid who dreamed her father was a good man who loved
her, but was kept away and one day would swoop in and make up for everything he’d
missed. Her mother was absolutely the woman who squashed that out of her.) Growing
up she never had friends that stuck around, both because many were fair-weather
friends and Haruka’s life rarely had fair weather for long, and because by
nature Haruka felt she had to hide things—her financial situation, her budding
lesbianism, the way girls’ clothes felt so wrong on her body. By the time she
meets Michiru, she can’t believe anyone would love her.

And Michiru doesn’t break that in her. Even as Haruka begins
to believe Michiru loves her, it’s so big and intense that sometimes Haruka
doesn’t feel like it’s about her. There’s desire and attraction and high stakes
and who wouldn’t fall in love when it
might be their last chance to.

It’s years later, in a bar with Mina, that Haruka gets the
tiniest inkling that she’s really worth something. The friendship between them
has developed into something comfortable and constant, and Haruka’s sure any
day now Mina will lose interest. But then she says something that makes Mina
laugh, and Mina sets down her drink and says “God, I love you buddy.” And
Haruka feels it down to her toes. She wants to ask if she means it, but doesn’t,
but it’s not the last time Mina says it and it’s not the last time Mina shows
it, and Haruka comes to the slow and quiet realization that if two people love
her, in two very different ways, that maybe it’s at least a little to do with
her, and she’s maybe not as broken as she’s always believed.