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“You can’t keep doing this.” Michiru set her bag on the counter, careful and cold. Her shoulders were still as stone, chin up, lips pursed. “You’re going to get yourself-- you can’t expect I’ll always save you.”
“I don’t.” Haruka threw dropped her coat on the ground, she’d hang it later, she didn’t trust herself not to throw it if she held it. “This is what we’re for. This is what I’m meant to do.” She wiped the last bit of blood from her cheek, her wounds from the day’s fight had already healed.
Michiru did not face her. She kept her hands on the counter, fingertips just barely touching the edge. “We are here to complete the mission, not die trying.”
“You’re the one who talks so much about sacrifice, what am I supposed to do?”
Haruka wanted to throw something, anything, she wanted to run away from everything building inside her, this apartment was spacious and still it trapped her, she wanted to throw herself from the window just to feel like nothing held her still.
Michiru did not answer. Haruka kicked at her jacket. “Maybe I should have listened to you when you told me not to become Uranus. Maybe that’s what you really wanted the whole time.”
“Maybe it is.”
“Fine.” Haruka snatched up her jacket. “Fine. You’re on your own then.”
“Fine.”
“Fine! Have fun fighting alone.” She stormed back to the door, but the anger broke when her hand touched the knob. She looked back. Michiru still stood with her back to here, but her shoulders had slumped, her knuckles now white against the counter.
“What do you want, really?”
“I want nothing, Haruka.”
She wanted to snap back, but she held her tongue, and her hope was rewarded.
“I want you to survive ,” Michiru whispered. “I want you alive and happy on the other side of this.”
“Then why—“ Haruka shook her head at herself. “You’re so confusing.”
“I apologize.” Michiru straightened, faced her with a placid smile. “I will try and be more clear in the future. Now, I do believe I must attend—“
“This is what I mean! You switch like this, and I just have to guess what you’re really feeling.”
“I’m not feeling anything, Haruka.”
“That’s not true!” She paced around in circles, ready to pull out her hair. “It’s like.. I don’t want you to die either, but I don’t go all passive aggressive when you throw yourself at enemies, do I?”
Michiru’s lips pursed again. “You do not.”
“So why can you?”
“Well,” Michiru waved a hand. “You are free to do so as well, if it pleases you.”
“It will not please me. I want to understand what you’re thinking, why you’re thinking, what you want from me.”
Michiru’s face pinched, and Haruka thought she might yell too, but it passed as quickly as anything. “I suppose that’s too bad. We are partners in the mission, and nothing more.”
But Haruka heard, for once, the slight hitch of pain in the statement, the layers to the words that were otherwise too hidden for her to see, her own desire reflected in their depths. “Kiss me.”
“Pardon?”
“I mean.” Haruka’s brain backflipped to try and take back the words. “You don’t have to… I can just…”
“Do you… do you want me to kiss you?”
The apartment seemed very bright, too bright, right then, spotlights all pointing at Haruka, making sweat drip down her neck in beads. She moved her mouth without sound, and then settled for a nod.
Michiru stepped closer. “I would like to as well.”
That was somehow all the scarier. Haruka put a shaking hand on Michiru’s arm, and felt stupid for it. Did you hold someone’s arm to kiss them? Haruka tried to think of kisses she’d seen in movies, but suddenly was unsure she’d seen any movies with kissing in them, or any movies at all, Michiru was very close, had she ever even seen a woman before Michiru? She couldn’t be sure, and now they were very close, and Michiru was beautiful, and should she lean? She was sure she was supposed to lean, and—
Michiru stood on tip toe, and their lips met. Haruka melted into her for all the few seconds they touched. The world was quiet, and soft. She was still angry, somewhere far away, mostly at herself, but it did not matter half so much as this.
“That’s very nice,” she said as Michiru pulled away.
Michiru smiled, looking as shy as Haruka had ever seen her. “Do you really… is that okay?”
“Michiru…” Haruka took a breath— for bravery— and kissed her again, hands on her arms because that was where she wanted them. When she felt Michiru smile against her, she didn’t feel like running and she didn’t feel like fighting. She felt like she could figure everything out. She could handle this.