Prompt Party Time!
One Beautiful Day
~1900 words
AO3 link
For the AU I haven’t written in before, I decided to go with a childhood meeting AU.
In a ground breaking twist, it features HaruMichi… at the beach!!
At age ten, Michiru had already learned to hate family vacations. Maybe if her parents had taken her to Disney World or even camping among national landmarks like T.V. families did, she wouldn’t have found them so vile, although she knew deep down they’d find a way to make those sorts of trips performances too.
She managed to slip away on the second day this time. Her parents had a no-children luncheon and had told her to stay in the hotel room and practice the piece she would play for their friends that night. As though she hadn’t perfected it months ago. She waited until she heard the elevator ding shut in the hall before sneaking out into the stairwell.
When you’d been trained to carry yourself with dignity and purpose, no one questioned why you were out alone. A little eye contact and a smile assuaged any fears. The doorman even held the door open for her, and she walked out into the world. The sun was bright; the air was heavy with moisture and salt. Michiru followed the street signs to the beach.
She’d always liked the ocean, probably because it made her feel so small and insignificant. She could live and die and flub her next concert and the ocean would still be there, vast and uncaring. Setting her shoes at the edge of the sand, she made her way towards the water. The sand was hot, but she kept walking. She half hoped she’d get a blister right on her toes where it would show in the shoes her mother had picked out. It wouldn’t be big enough for the audience to notice it, but her mother would be upset anyway. A perfect rebellion. But she reached the tide line without a mark.
No one on the beach paid attention to the small girl ruining her sundress in the surf. No one, that was, besides another girl Michiru had not noticed at first. Her clothes were baggy and a little dirty, but she had beautiful long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, straight and frizz-free like Michiru’s mother always wished Michiru’s was. She sat in the sand a few feet from the tide line. Color rose in her cheeks when Michiru caught her eye.
“Sorry,” she said as Michiru walked over. “You just looked so… so free.”
I’ll never really be free. But Michiru put on her best smile. “I’m not supposed to be out here.”
“Did you run away, too?”
“Well, I sneaked out for a bit.” The “too” processed through her mind. “You’re a runaway?”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell anyone! My mom will find me soon anyway. She always does.”
“Okay.” Michiru almost asked why she ran away, but she could hear her father’s voice in her head– It’s bad manners to ask about others’ misfortunes. Instead she sat down next to the girl. “I’m Michiru.”
“Haruka.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, same.” Haruka gestured towards the water. “You can keep playing, if you want. I don’t mind.”
“Don’t you want to join me?”
“Oh, um, no. No thanks.” Haruka eyed the ocean and swallowed hard. “I’m good here.”
Michiru frowned. “You don’t like–” Don’t make comments like that, Michiru, it brings down the conversation. “Is there something we could both do?” Something about this girl struck her; she didn’t want to leave her alone. She wasn’t at all like the playmates Michiru’s parents always chose for her.
Haruka thought for a moment. “There’s a corner store over there a bit. I’ve got a couple dollars, we could get some candy or something.”
Michiru smiled. “I have a better idea.”
She took Haruka by the hand and led her back to the hotel. Eyebrows were raised at the state of their clothes, but the workers recognized Michiru well enough to not say anything. She strutted into the hotel shop like she belonged there.
“My parents sent me to grab a few things. Can you put it on our room tab?” She handed the cashier the key card.
He gave a pause; certainly ten-year olds were not normally allowed to charge their parents’ account. But she was well-spoken and, she knew, intimidating despite her size, so he nodded.
She turned to see Haruka gaping. Michiru pulled her away from the desk and behind a display of candied nuts before whispering, “That was nothing.”
“That was…” Haruka shook her head. “Do people always do what you want like that?”
“Mostly. Except my parents.”
“Oh. Will they be mad you’re spending their money?”
“Not mad, but–” She put on her best impression of her mother. “Very disappointed in me, they haven’t raised me to act like this.”
Haruka giggled appreciatively.
“But then tonight they’ll parade me around and hear what a darling I am, how talented and precocious, and they’ll forget all about it.”
Haruka frowned. Michiru’s stomach gave a twist. She’d ruined it, hadn’t she? She’d come off as ungrateful, and negative, and No one likes negative people, Michiru, always say nice things, even if they’re lies. Veil your criticisms. Her parents were right, and–
“I know what that’s like, sort of. I mean, it’s not the same, I don’t have talents, but I think…” Haruka blushed very red. “Sorry never mind.”
“No, it’s all right.”
Harka swallowed. “I think she has reasons for having me that aren’t… me. Which I guess is a little like you.”
For a long moment Michiru couldn’t think of anything to say. It was strange to have someone acknowledge her feelings and agree. “Do you want your mom to find you?” she asked finally.
Haruka shrugged. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.” Her face was somber, but then it broke into a smile. “Unless you want to run away and become a bandit with me?” She lunged like she had a sword in her hand. “We could live in the wild, and defend little kids, and have a whole band like Robin Hood.”
“We could.” Michiru smiled, feeling an excitement like none she’d had before. “But we’ll need some supplies.”
They ran back and forth through the shop, grabbing a bag, a water bottle, all the candy they could carry, and a pair of scissors. “Since there’s no swords here,” Haruka said. “We’ll have to make do.”
The cashier opened his mouth to ask if her parents had really asked for these things, but Michiru withered him with a glare. She wouldn’t let anyone ruin this. She was having fun. He swiped the room key and they barreled out into the street, bag in hand, breaking into fits of laughter as their feet hit the pavement.
“We’re bandits!”
“His face.” Haruka gulped for breath and straightened herself. “There’s a park near here, if you wanna start there. We can claim the playground as our base.”
“Lead the way.”
Haruka grabbed her hand and broke into a run. Michiru struggled to keep up. The girl was fast, whatever she said about having no talent. But Michiru felt like slowing down this moment, halting its momentum, was something worse than death, worse than the dark shadows that came through her window at night that she had to pretend she was too old to be afraid of. Her calves burned and each breath felt like it drove a knife into her side, but she would not stop.
The park came into sight, and then they were there. Haruka put her hands behind her head and smiled. “Our new kingdom!”
Michiru smiled back. It didn’t matter that even calling the lopsided swingset and singular rusty slide a playground had been a stretch. It was theirs and they were free, for the day if not forever. She sat down on one of the swings and opened the bag. “This calls for a celebratory meal, I think.”
For awhile they ate candy in comfortable silence. Michiru felt herself smiling even as she chewed. She couldn’t help feeling this was the first time she’d felt this content.
“You know,” Haruka said after a while. “There’s a thing I’ve always wanted to do. Something rebellious, something totally bandit-y.”
Michiru set her candy bag on the ground. “And what’s that?”
Haruka smiled sheepishly and leaned over to reach in the bag. She pulled out the scissors. “Cut my hair short. Like, boy short.”
Michiru didn’t say how beautiful it was. Haruka knew that, had probably heard it as a reason she wasn’t allowed to cut it. And maybe, Michiru got the impression, Haruka didn’t want to be beautiful. Not like that, anyway.
“I’ll do it for you.”
“Have you cut hair before?” Haruka asked as she handed over the scissors. She smiled like it didn’t really matter.
“No, but I paint. Both are art, right?”
Haruka laughed. “If you say so. I guess worst comes to worst, I shave it all, right?”
“I imagine that wouldn’t look bad on you.” Michiru stood behind Haruka, but she still saw the color rise in her face. She felt her own cheeks flush. It was normal to tell girls they looked good, wasn’t it? She shook it off and took Haruka’s ponytail in her hands. “You’re sure about this, right?”
“Very sure. I only haven’t because I’m not allowed.”
“Okay.” Michiru cut straight across the base of the ponytail. It fell to the ground, heavy enough to scatter some of the wood chips. Michiru did her best to trim the top up to look like a real haircut. She didn’t quite succeed, but it was decent for a first time. She put her phone on the camera and handed it to Haruka so she could see.
“Not bad.” Haruka grinned wider than Michiru had ever seen anyone smile.
“You look.. you look very handsome. More like a prince than a bandit.”
Haruka blushed again. “You think so?”
“Yes,” Michiru said, feeling embarrassed. She wasn’t sure if it was giving an honest compliment that felt strange, or something else. Their eyes met.
And her phone rang.
Haruka nearly jumped out of the swing. Michiru grabbed the phone, it was her parents, of course it was, calling to drag her back from anything this good. She hit ignore and shut it off. “Sorry.”
Haruka looked down at the ground. “You have to go, don’t you?”
“No. Not yet.” Her hatred for her parents for cutting this so short battled with the overwhelming urge to give this girl something. Michiru did, really and truly, want to run away with her, despite how implausible it would be. “I don’t want to leave yet.”
“Okay.” Haruka smiled, a little forced but still genuine. “Think you can swing higher than me?”
–
The police arrived as the sun started to set. As the shuffled Michiru into their car and phoned her parents, she realized she hadn’t gotten Haruka’s phone number, or even her last name. By the time she turned back it was too late. The policewoman grabbed her gently around the middle and set her in the back seat.
Her parents yelled at her more than they ever had, but the only thing she felt bad for was not being able to contact the girl. Long after they returned home, Michiru held onto the memory, went over it in her head like a prayer on nights when the whole world seemed horrible. There was at least one good day, one good person. And even years later, Michiru swore she’d find a way to meet her again.
SittingOverHereDreaming 