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Prologue
In order for the plan to work, it was necessary to transform. Haruka rolled on the other side and swore with passion. Her leg became trapped in the sheets after tossing and turning, and Tennou spent some time trying to free herself from the cotton trap. Indifferent stars shone through the window, and they didn't care at all about a person who was unable to fall asleep, thinking about saving the world once more. And her partner. Because without her partner, making plans about cleansing the world of evil aliens was difficult. To be more precise, a single alien, which, as it were, made captive of the brains of their operations. Haruka has stuffed the head under the pillow, and imprinted the latter as close to the bed as she could.
Because she knew that she was a noticeable person, moreover, the enemy has seen her in her human form, moreover... there is a lot to add... Haruka came to the only possible decision - to hide everything about her looks that attracted attention or made her stand out in the crowds. She needed to become the same as all. Just one of many. Invisible. A regular woman. Who would expect anything amiss from a girl passing by? Hah! Not a single soul! Although, a pity that she, Haruka, was a bit too old for a lollipop, or an ice cream, or some other thing that the younger kids are so fond of. Otherwise the problem would have an elementary solution. But, unfortunately, at her age, that might have somewhat less innocent impressions. That is why she needed to do something to resemble every single one of the women her age. That is to say, put on a dress, as a minimum... Tennou made a face under the pillow. A wayward feather immediately reached her nose, tickling the nostrils of the senshi weary of the battle planning. Haruka has tried to sneeze, but the air between the sheet and the pillow has ran out at the same time as her patience. The pillow was thrown in one corner, Haruka into another, and the blanket thew on the floor the nearby lamp, gently covering it in its soft embrace.
Swearing passionately once more, Tennou decided to stop trying to sleep before the fight. The problem in front of her was agonizingly difficult, but Tennou Haruka would not have been a senshi if she wasn't afraid of the difficulties! Without a second thought, Haruka ran to the mirror. Meticulously examining her expression, she touched the silk blue-yellow stripe trousers, scratched her stomach, and came to a disappointing conclusion: she is too masculine to easily pass for a regular girl. She needed to take drastic measures.
Coming up with this epoch-making desision, Haruka rushed to the Michiru's wardrobe as quickly as she ran to the mirror before. Brushing away any doubt, she forcefully opened the doors and immediately towered under the volume of carelessly thrown in clothes that fell down on her. Brushing aside a bra that has fallen onto her nose, she nodded with satisfaction. There was plenty to choose from.
"Michiru, I will save you!"
The Dress
Browsing through a number of colorful pieces, Haruka chose one for its gentle shade that reminded her of Michiru's hair. The decision was also swayed by the fact that her partner once called it dimmentionless, but very feminine. To her merit, Michiru looked in it like an angel. Coming to a conclusion that we'd make do with everything that is suitable to them, the blonde gently took the dress and in deep thought put it in front of her on the bed.
How to put it on? Warily examining the thing in front of her, Tennou sighed. Of course, there must be an entrance somewhere. Some other... hm... women... somehow do get inside of it. Well, since she has chosen her course of action, then she needs to call things by their name - in that she is a woman, and this lovely terror in her arms is women's clothes that she must put on in the same way that Michiru does every day.
She can do it! After all, it's not in vain that she gave a year of her life and one death to the Mugen school, that, thankfully, has fallen to ashes. Not without their help, of course. Chucking to the warm thoughts, Haruka sat more comfortably on the bed, and ran through the ideas of the technological process of dress-wearing.
So. How does Michiru look in this dress? In this specific one? Shooing away the thoughts like "lovely beyond words", the blonde mentally imagined the given article of clothing, and Michiru inside. Yep. Very logical: legs are on the bottom, and the head is sticking out out of the sea of rumples. Or ruffles? Such ridiculous words. Shaking her head, Haruka stretched the dress on the bed covers, deciding on the entrances and on the exits. Entrances and exits. Entrances... She once again shook her head. She couldn't concentrate. Tennou angrily narrowed her eyes and painfully strained her brains, using figners to help. Her temples snapped. If you think about it, taking it all off is a matter of seconds! Tried a million times without a single miss, and right now is just an opposite of that process. After all, she was dressed as a child! Haruka chuckled, remembering how they tried to forcefully stuff her into a dress, and she would cry, struggle, and spreading out her arms and legs as wide as she could, catastrophically not fitting inside the garment. Her mother, thinking ahead, recruited her grandfather to hold her arms, her father to hold her legs, her grandmother to cover cover the kid's mouth in order not to learn new words, while the mother herself would dress her daughter. But, after they saw what would be left of the dress after the walk of the obstinate child along the city streets and alleyways, they didn't bother her with such follies any longer.
Savoring the memory, Haruka felt the new strength. Let's get started!
In a couple of minutes, Haruka got a chance to understand and remember a couple of things. Firstly, in addition to the word "ruffles", there is also such a thing as "frills" (both of these terms she put in the list of the most terrible swear words in the world). Secondly, these terms have very similar meaning and the looks of the things they describe. And, thirdly, none of this has explained to her where this dreadful piece of cloth, that is confined on both sides by these two definitions, has the beginning and the end.
"Let's try this empirically" - decided Haruka, shoving her legs into the end of the tube that she, after some hesitation, thought to be the upper one.
"Ok, let's try it from the other side...."
After the fourth time, she could more or less evenly spread the dress on her torso, after some time she managed to also free her hands. The dress quite closely hugged her from all sides, especially where her back uncontrollably expanded upwards like a perfect trapezium.
Sighing with relief, Haruka fell on the bed and spent a couple of minutes coming to her senses. Her head and legs seem to come out from appropriate spots, the mirror is reflection a familiar arrangement of all the pieces of this damned cloth, and she is alive. Great work, everyone!
The next thought made her jump once again. A dress is not a sufficient reason to consider herself to be feminine. She also needs other details, such as hair, and makeup. And manicure. And pedicure. And the heels, after all! Haruka has fallen down, forgetting even the simplest words that make life less difficult.
The Hair
Decisively rejecting an idea of the wig, Haruka decided to use what was available to her. After all, the shorter the easier it is to style, no?
A bottle of hairspray has already seamlessly disappeared into her hear, but the blond strands refused to prettily frame Haruka's gentle face that currently deformed in a grimace as she was trying to juggle simultaneously a regular brush, a round brush, papillotes, curlers, a curling iron, and a multitemperature hair dryer that stubbornly blew away all of the attempts to make sense of her hair.
"Michiru, how could you get captured by this demon"?!!
It was painful to touch her burned head, her ears were stuffed from powerful streams of the spray, but little use came of it. Or even less. Throwing away everything from her hair that was stuffed there earlier, she leaned her forehead against the mirror, searching for some compassion from her reflection. The reflection also looked upset, out of solidarity, and even for a quick second shed a powerless tear.
"How could I lose my henshin rod?"
Of course, it would be feasible to ask Usagi and others for help, but Haruka could vividly imagine how a story would look of a demon for whom all of their attacks were no more powerful than tickling. Immediately all of the bobby pins, hairpins, tweezers and other styling items thrown around the room all seemed simple and harmless. Opening a new hairspray bottle, Haruka grimaced to her reflection that replied with the same. Inspired by this, Tennou, tragically sighing, sent another jet with a fruity aroma onto her hair.
After the spray has dried, things have gotten pretty simple. Recently soft curls have gotten a consistency of steel, and Haruka was familiar with metal-work like no other. After all, she was around the cars all her life. Hair will not stand in her way! She forced the bits of her hair to stick down with tongs, burned the ends with the curling iron, clawed at the surface, and made a few bits stick out on top for an illusion of an artistic mess. Inside the hairdo remained a sticky mess of the rest of the hair, which allowed the blond shell to keep the desired form. Doubly convenient - the hair is pretty, and you don't need a helmet. Nodding with satisfaction, Haruka started with another stage of her transformation.
Make up
Haruka has known about the existence of such thing as make up for a long time. "Careful, or you'll ruin the make up!" - was something that Michiru always exclaimed if Haruka has made even just a few steps in her direction after she was done putting it on. In the past, the blonde thought that all of these many hours spent in front of the mirror and smearing everything that was in front of her onto the face was just a method to annoy Haruka. Now, after seeing all the tubes, Tennou tried to stop a nervous tick in her left eye, and painfully regretted that she didn't pay more attention to her partner who was more proficient in the feminine perversions. A mountain of various bottles, jars, flasks, and god knows what else reminded her of either a collection of a style of "young chemist", or a strategic stock of a witch. As Haruka has known, this all was referred to as "make up", and that it was meant to be applied onto the face in order to become like a fairy tale beauty. Haruka didn't really believe it all that much: Michiru was the same during the day, with the make up on, and during the night, without any. Like a tree in a forest. Except may be fluffier, and because of it, more prickly. Don't smudge here, don't touch there, here be careful and not disturb the eyeliner. What sort of eyeliner? Unclear...
Smearing everything that she could reach of increasingly brighter shades, Haruka felt herself to be a trained monkey, who could only blindly copy someone else, namely, Michiru. "Well, at least that's some progress".
As she figured out with experience, the commercials that promised that the lipstick could be used as both the eye shadow and the blush have all lied. Although, perhaps, she used the wrong lipstick. Or that this one went bad, which was also possible, because it was impossible to get it off. No matter how much Haruka has tried to wash it off with soap, carefully reaching under a sharp edge of her bangs, her eyelids were still covered with grey-blue splotches. Nor could she scrub it away with her fingers, Deciding it was good enough, Haruka has continued her decorative cosmetic experiments. From modern through avant-garde to the classics! When her face stopped reminding her of a war paint and started to resemble something that Haruka was used to seeing on other women, the blonde dutifully felt herself to be a hero. No, a heroine!
Examining the results in the mirror, Haruka couldn't help but admit that her looks are, gently put, are unusual, but, who said that she would necessarily have to be her own type? It is very well possible that someone else would like that. After all, her forms (or a lack of thereof) do have a certain degree of... attractiveness. May be. Haruka has waved herself in the mirror, and the weird creature in front of her has copied her gesture. She shuddered. This is her?! Well, she'll get used to it. This is all to save Michiru! Remember it! Coming to her senses a little bit, she returned back to the mirror, and flirtatiously knocked on her hair. Oh. Her nails!
Manicure
With the hair and the dress it was all fairly obvious: dress was needed to put on, hair was needed to be styled. But how could you do your nails if you don't have them? Haruka pursed lips looking at the tips of her fingers. The edges were carefully trimmed - this was the only thing that she allowed herself as far as their decoration was concerned. Biting her nails was not the best thing in life, as they scratch everything, especially where you definitely do not want it. Moreover, it is the hight of decadence to have nails that stick out from the fingers. Nails, as it is known, do not lead to anything good. And they are most likely not very comfortable. But, may be they are convenient for scratching yourself. Or, perhaps, you can scratch your skin off? How horrid! Utterly terrifying herself, Haruka looked at her nails and saddened. She can't do without them. A pity.
A sudden thought lead Haruka into action before she could properly process what it was. Ending up in a different room, she found herself looking through some of Michiru's things that the latter touched rarely, calling it all "the stuff of an adorable airhead". When Haruka finally realized what it was that she remembered to search for, she firmly grasped a bag with something intolerably purple.
Spread around the table a large volume of fake nails drew a shudder of terror with their fluorescent shade, and the clay tube near them had a whiff of dissolute youth. To put it plainly, Haruka was having the yips. She couldn't even imagine that this submerging into her femininity could be so deep. Somehow the aspect of gluing herself to something so useless as the fake nails has finally demonstrated the full extend of the mockery that she was subjecting herself. She closed her eyes and threw back her head.
"Michiru... This is all for you. You hear?? Hm... what should I do to her in return after I rescue her?" With pleasant thoughts, the deed was getting done.
"Perhaps wash the floor. Everywhere. Including the garage. By hand. Without getting onto her knees. And I would be walking around, checking up everything..." - nail after nail was put into place. Starting with the right hand, Haruka first exhausted the full range of her swear words and the dreams of making Michiru pay back to her, and when she started on the left hand ran out of steam. The pincers of her hand were no longer suitable for grabbing. With glue, scotch tape, and sometimes her teeth, she was fixing up the fake feminine pride that stood in the second place after the hair. After an hour, she had before her eyes the claws of Freddy Krueger that has happened to visit a Barbie salon. It wouldn't to hurt to drink in this honor, but even the willpower of Uranus would not be sufficient for that, let alone a poor human heart of Haruka. Figuring that she has seen worse, she decided to leave her hands alone. And looked on her feet.
Pedicure
There was nothing else left to glue on: Haruka has excused the full arrangement of plastic. The only thing was left was to paint them. At least her toenails should have been trimmed a while ago, but now this would be quite convenient.
Tennou once again looked through everything that was in Michiru's table, but she couldn't find a matching shade of polish. Not being an expert in this, Haruka did nonetheless know some rules of feminine beauty. First: never put on makeup before doing the hair (it will run, as Michiru would put it). Second: the nail color must be the same, unless you are not alternating fingers or creating a gradient (no comment). Haruka knew what gradient was, but wasn't quite sure how it applies to the nails, and alternating them was also weird. That's why the shade of purple that she has on her hands should be on her feet also. But where to find it... In despair once again she looked through the stuff of an adorable airhead, but there was nothing appropriate even there. Finally, freeing away a lamp covered in the blanket, and then using it to illuminate dark corners, she found a very dusty bag from one of the tables. As Haruka could remember, this was a gift to Michiru from Minako on a birthday. Michiru gave an adoring smile, but hid the present somewhere far away.
Coughing, the blonde opened up what she found. A miracle! An assortment of nail polishes suitable for the most imaginative tastes of a party maniac. Right now Haruka was interested in only one bottle of a luminescent purple color. Exactly what she wanted!
Tennou sat on the floor, stretching her legs, and trying to spread her toes as wide as she could, painted her toes with a tiny brush as though a handyman painting a wall, on her feet that were far away from her.
"Well, I'm an athlete, and I could get into any pose under any angle. And, I have a perfect eyesight. But how do others do it??"
Remembering the third rule of "freeze after the nail polish", Haruka has leaned back, pushing against the floor with her hands, and tapping with her glued nails some nervous melody. This was may be an only minute of rest that she had while she was preparing to save Michiru. "If Michiru didn't force me to leave, then the one who would be captured would be me. This would be bad. After all, I have more opportunities to save her than she would be me. And I will save her. I just need to follow the plan."
The next thing according to the plan were the sandals.
Convinced that the polish would no longer be scrubbed off, Haruka froze near the entry way, opening the doors of the shoes cabinet. Definitely sandals? The boots would be comfier. No. Sandals. The most feminine one she could find, to suit her today. Not a single aspect should make her stand out in the crowd. She would bear through!
Shoes
Haruka has taken Michiru's sandals as a personal affront. Putting in front of her shoes with 5" heels with a multitude of bright narrow straps, Haruka lowered herself on the floor in shock and then just LOOKED at them. At least with the dress she could figure out were there might be some edges, but here... It was not at all clear where exactly should she put in her foot. The leather lace seemed to firmly block an access to the shoe under any angle. May be boots? No, we will keep carrying on! The blonde pulled on her heard hair, trying to rememer for the nth time this day how Michiru has done it. The memory simply returned "simply and effortlessly", and her eyes firmly convinced her that "you wouldn't be able to do it".
Sighing, Haruka took the left shoe. Rotating it in her arms, she pulled her leg closer to herself, and froze for a second hearing a crack near her armpit.
"Stupid dress!"
The split seam on the side didn't lower the convictions of the human incarnation of the wind senshi. Quite the opposite, sudden freedom of movement allowed her to get her foot closer and start to decide which of the straps it should be put into in order to turn the shoe from decorative table item to a practical for walking on the streets. After some time using the scientific method, Haruka managed to identify a clasp that was masquerading as a flower, and after more time, how to open it with her purple tweezers instead of hands. The next couple of minutes were spent in order to figure out how to fill the freed up space. With the price of the tangled nails, and the polish that did end up scratched in places, despite the evil resistance of the leather opponent, and with a few very strong words, Haruka managed to place her foot in such a way that the sole was on the bottom, and all the straps on the top. Haruka sat and was very proud of herself, moving her toes. Her toes formed an inch of an avant-garde, while her heel formed half an inch of arrière-garde. The last phase of her transformation was complete. The only thing that remained was to stand up on her even more elongated legs and to check if this was all suitable for movement.
Suspecting a ruse, Tennou first stood on her knees, and only then put her foot on the carpet with the heel down. The sole was standing surprisingly firmly, and as she safeguarded herself with the hand on the floor, Haruka's spirits rose. It's not as difficult as they say! Easily placing the second foot near the first, Haruka spring up like a bird.
Or, she tried. The didn't fall down because of a curtain that she grabbed, sinking all 2 inches of her new claws. Shaking on the fabric and in heels, Haruka was in thoughts of her predicament. Either she will fall, or the curtain will, together with her. Conclusion: should wait for the curtain, it would be softer to fall on it.
The next attempt was more successful. Standing on her knees, Haruka has spread out the curtain on the floor so that she wouldn't get new bruises the next time she falls, and the second half of the still hanging curtain she moved closer to herself to use it as a safety cable. Then Tennou started to get up, feeling herself up no longer a monkey but an infant, trying to use for the first time her two twigs that adults refer two as legs. "This is how humans learn how to walk with the crutches"
The methodical approach, as always, worked, and Haruka was already able to stand, almost not safeguarding herself. She practiced not to fall another quarter hour, and then tried to make a step. And tried again. And again.
After half an hour, she risked unlocking her knees.
After hour she managed to fling the lower part of the dress in a way that wouldn't send her flying on the turns.
Another fifteen minutes were spent to put on a bandaid on the newly formed blisters.
And after another ten minutes it was time to leave. The demon was waiting for her, and Tennou Haruka was not planning to keep it waiting.
Action
Getting out of the car, Haruka was whispering herself a lecture of the harm of feminine shoes for driving. With some difficulty taking her long legs out of the depth of the car and carefully placing them on the ground, Tennou prudently holding on to the bumper, managed to get up. She managed to make a few carefully steps, and decisively headed for the entrance to the biggest park in Tokyo, where she herself appointed a meeting yesterday to Michiru's abductor. The doors were locked. The blonde chuckled at the simple barrier and went in to scale the wall. With the sounds of ripping fabric and some sparking of her heel, Haruka managed to fit between the gate rods, and after getting stuck, tried her hardest to get out. Like a cork she shot out of the narrow place, and feeling free like a bird in the sky, managed to run into a bush head first. Getting the thorns out of the crown of her hair, Haruka closed her eyes swearing and crying in pain, stealthing herself, and continued onto the meeting spot for the rescue operation. Only a little remained, and Tennou, folding herself almost into two, raked the grass with her heels, trying to get there invisible.
Michiru was already helplessly hanging in the clutches of the demon when Haruka, after getting through the bush, got into a strategic position behind a tree. In the exact assigned time, the eyes of the demon opened, like the covers of the cannons. Haruka could swear that she has heard a shot. The flaming eyes looked around.
"He is so ugly. Not only is Michiru in his clutches, but he is also male! At least he is ugly" - confusing thoughts lost their track when the demon spoke with a quiet by deep voice:
"Uranus! I have your henshin rod, you can't transform! Come out, or she will die"
The genius plan of getting lost in the crowd using a disguise, to walk right by and almost casually save her partner went out like a smoke from a candle. There was no crowd. Haruka didn't think that at 7 am, normal humans sleep, or at least are waking up. Deciding yesterday on a meeting place, she thought of how many people might be there, and on the time - that at 9 am there should be a show on another formula one race that she was forced to miss because of her senshi duty, cosmic sword be damned, so it would be nice to finish up by then.
"The enemy is very tactical!" Haruka swore, easily pushing the blame on the demon for the fact that Neptune was in the hands of her opponent who was not surrounded by anyone else, and there was no way for her to transform. Why did she spend the entire morning suffering, trying to disguise herself as a typical example of the female sex?! She could, like a regular person, die in the trousers, and not in a pale green dress with a mini-skirt. What would be put on her tombstone? "She died, but didn't fall of her heels"? Or, in obituary "Tennou Haruka has died fulfilling her duties saving her partner". And they would include a picture of her corpse in make up, with the hairdo, heels, mini skirt, and and a purse into which even the cosmic sword wouldn't fit. Such dolls definitely don't save the world, walking along the streets.
"I should have thought about what I put on. At least a black dress or something..."
"Uranus! I have your henshin rod, you can't transform! Come out, or she will die"
"What a bastard, wouldn't let to even think of something eternal!"
The demon didn't plan to remain actionless for long. Getting into the air a bit, he squeezed his tentacle, suffocating Neptune. She came to her senses under such a ungentle treatment, and barely opening her eyes, immediately bit into the length holding her that was further from her neck and closer to her teeth. The demon made a dissatisfied noise and tightened his grip. Neptune tried to pull the evil tentacle off her neck, but, hanging in the air, it was quite a difficult feat. She fluttered a bit, but, realizing the uselessness of her attempts, she gnawed through her teeth: "Haruka will teach you a lesson!". The demon, though, just raised his hand, searching for what he was promised.
"Uranus! I have your henshin rod, you can't transform! Come out, or she will die"
Haruka witnessed the uneven attempts of her partner to fight off the stronger foe. When she once again went limp, Haruka made a noise with her tongue in disappointment.
"You should have aimed the kick in his tail. If he has one, of course. Or sink a heel into his head. Why make my intervention necessary?" She didn't particularly want to go off and die, but she needed to save Neptune. It was boring on her own. And planning wasn't something that she has excelled in. And Michiru was much better around the house than Haruka was... And why is the demon's tentacle reaching for her legs?
Haruka decisively got out from under the cover, and not waiting for another call from the demon, grasped the handle of the cosmic sword that shone brightly in the light of the morning sun.
The Conclusion
The demon sighed in satisfaction when his captive once again went limp in his arms. He didn't like to be bitten, but he did need to destroy all of the senshi on this planet in order to prepare the invasion. It looks like this one has only two, although he has heard of more. But the warriors of love and justice are stupid, and if one among them is in danger, the others would always rush in with their full numbers. So far here is just the untransformed Uranus. After he kills her, and then Neptune, this would be all. How bland.
His soul did not want such a boring job, completely devoid of simple pleasures. If only he could meet HER... Then he could rest...
The bushes practically jumped aside, letting angry Haruka to plow through, who was amused in the back of her mind with her apparent femininity and the dark promise of death in her eyes. No wonder this demon opened his eyes so widely. Yes, this angelic facade promises your death!
"Take your hands off of her, you ugly bastard, I'll murder you! I'm Uranus! Uuuuh!" - maniacally laughing, Tennou grasped her sword higher, and added up speed.
The demon slowly released his tentacles on Neptune's body, and she has slid down, painfully falling on the ground. Coming back to senses from the fall, she spent some time tracking the transparent butterflies and fishies that circled around her head, but they were too fast. Deciding to put this matter off until later, Neptune looked around. And swallowed in terror. There was SOMETHING that was running towards her, and it screamed with Haruka's voice, as it, full of swearing, at times "Urrranus", or "Urrrder", or something, or just sobbing and hollowing. Neptune immediately took a defensive stand - laying on the ground and passed out.
The demons face split open. He breathed deeply, afraid to believe what was happening: his happiness was running towards him, demolishing the ground with her hoofs. Her body was surrounded by a romantic halo of the salad-colored scraps, and her colorful face with black blotches near eyes and sharp eyelashes was the face of the one he dreamed about for so long. The razor-like purple claws clutched tightly around the shining sword that was pulsing with power, and the feet that couldn't fit inside the shoes scraped the ground with the toenails of the same color. The concrete blond locks on her head were pointed every which way, embellished with leaves, branches, and colorful thorns, and the bared teeth were surrounded by the bloody red lips that demanded submission. Smiling blissfully, the demon has fallen onto his knees:
"I have found you, my beautiful mistress!!!!!"
Haruka has froze mid-reach, barely not falling under the feet of her insane foe.
Under the beaming gaze, the blonde automatically straightened her poor dress, and hid her sword.
"I'm really pretty, right?" - the glanced into the tearfilled amazed eyes of her recent opponent.
"Gorgeous!" - Haruka got a bit shy with such a response.
"I know. Although it's not really my style. I don't normally dress like this. A special occasion, you know..."
The demon just nodded in response, beaming. Perhaps just once, but he was allowed to witness Perfection. And now he could never abandon the one who showed it to him. Even for a moment.
Haruka stopped being shy. It's not right to melt from the compliments of any odd demon!
"My partner is over there. Sailor Neptune" - she suddenly remembered her anger, and once again reached for her sword - "How dare you....!!!" - but then she just blinked in confusion: the demon has fallen to her feet, kissing her toes.
"My sincerest apologies, my radiant mistress! I didn't know that this was your Lady!"
Haruka pulled back her feet in disgust.
"Now you know" - the blonde swallowed - "And return my henshin wand, you creep"
"Now I know" - he agreed, and dutifully returned her the blue transformation rod.
Epilogue
Michiru came to her senses on a soft bed. Haruka was close, reading a magazine. Her cleaned hair laid on her head as per usual, her formless shirt has hidden her feminine contours, and the house pants made one doubt if the events of the morning really did take place.
She moved her head. Her throat hurt. It means that someone did try to suffocate her. "Well, that's good, this means that today something did happen after all"
"Haruka...." - the latter looked away from the magazine - "You killed all the demons?"
"All? There was only one" - Tennou brushed away the details, and announced the main news - "Our team has won. The race was amazing!"
Michiru doubtfully nodded to either the first statement, or the second. Haruka, though, once again started reading the magazine.
"What do you think of this car? Looks awesome, but it's red. Yellow, after all, would be more interesting..."
"You already have plenty of yellow ones. Get a green one. You know, I thought that something terrifying was running towards me"
"Well, Demmy is not pretty, but he is not that bad! Green...? Hm, the red wheel and fur inserts, exactly like Demmy's face...."
"Who is Demmy, what are you talking about?" - Michiru indignantly threw away her blanket in order to get up. But before making a single step, the door to the room has opened, and on the threshold there was her recent abductor, an unbeatable foe from her yesterday's fight. In an apron with the tray.
"The water for the Lady, mistress"
Michiru gave a nervous cough, and got back into the bed. If she would lose consciousness again, it is better to do it on a soft surface.
Getting out of the bedroom, Haruka walked along the hall.
The quieted Michiru has once again slept, gaining strength. Demmy zealously took up cleaning the house, which was no longer at risk of being piled up with garbage. Now Michiru can spent more time in front of the mirror, and perhaps this time Haruka would pay a better attention. Perhaps she'd give an advice. Help out with the hair, help to orient with a dress, or whatnot...
As she walked, she stopped in front of the mirror, looked around, making sure that no one else was around, and conspiratorially blinked to her reflection. Smiling, she carried on.
"Perhaps I will never again do something quite like it, but it was nice to know that even for a little bit, my femininity was to die for".
The end.