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The soft, distant melody of birdsong wrapped itself blissfully around Haruka, gently suppressing the harsh ringing of panic within her ears. Her affinity for nature was not something Haruka particularly wished to discuss – she, a former world class race car driver, would previously have outwardly prided herself on such feats as carelessly polluting the planet and destroying everything unfortunate enough to find itself in her way. (But, to truly know Haruka would be to watch her mourn the loss of a stray squirrel caught under the rough wheels of her motorbike, another life she had ripped away prematurely in her reckless haste, another soul to add to a mental reference book of self-hate.)
To truly know Haruka would be to watch her in the spring, calm in the face of a natural beauty she could not quite comprehend, yet she appreciated fully and wholly nonetheless, a constant revitalisation of senses, the surprise of life bringing equal dangers and reliefs. The sounds, sights and experiences merged into a lullaby as the days passed, the soft caress of reassurance that everything was going to be okay in the end. Everything would keep on going, no matter what happened, and no matter how bad things got – no matter how bad the winter had been. Spring was a subtle comfort that gently lifted Haruka’s spirits just in its mere existence, in its continuing efforts year after year.
Spring reminded her of Michiru, that way.
As it was, when Haruka and her family had found themselves caught in the middle of a slightly cold but nonetheless bright and sunny day, there had only been a small need for persuasion in order to get Haruka to leave the house. Setsuna had suggested, gently, as she always did when it came to her family input, whilst her eldest child, Harumi, had instantly betrayed unwritten family orders in calling Seiya to come with them. (Haruka was still in firm denial that Seiya was in any way one of her daughter’s favourites, but alas, it never hurt to see her smile.) Mina, of course, had tagged along. Haruka had increasingly found herself going nowhere without Mina these past few years and besides which, the children adored her and her wilful neglect of the rules.
As it was, both troublemakers were currently occupied in an extensive game of eye spy, something which had started as a way to occupy the children and had somehow morphed into a cutthroat battle of wits.
“It’s green, Seiya. Seriously, dude, it’s not that hard!” Mina said incredulously.
“Everything around us is green! WE’RE LITERALLY SURROUNDED BY GREEN THINGS.”
“WELL, I did say I intended this to be a little bit of a challenge. Come on, Kou, gimme somethin’ to work with here. Though I suppose it’s not every day I get to beat your a-“
“Mina,” Haruka warned, wrapping an arm around her youngest.
“OOPS! Sorry, kiddo,” Mina ruffled Yuna’s hair lightly, “Sometimes your Auntie Mina just gets a little bit carried away. It’s called being ambitious, you see. You may think this is only a game, but it’s a game today and the entire world tomorrow.”
“Are you teaching my daughter to be a conqueror?”
“Ruka. I have a responsibility to these children. If I left them to you, they’d think the world stopped at cuddles and love and simpering crap. I’m instilling a bit of zeal, a bit of initiative! I know, I know. I’m such a great role model. You can thank me later, when they both end up holding political office or commanding a navy or some other amazing feat, all because their Auntie Mina told them how great it is to win at eye spy,” Mina mused, deep in thought as to the obvious great potential of her youthful nieces.
“Don’t be stupid, Mina. We all know Harumi wants to be a pop star just like the great Seiya Kou of the amazing, unparalleled butch lesbian trio the Three Lights, right?” Harumi nodded enthusiastically at Seiya and Haruka felt the edges of an old grudge flare at her senses. It had been a long time since she and Seiya had last fought, throwing faults and misinterpretations and jealousy at each other like knives, but the battle was subdued, something that resembled a stalemate finally reached in the light of their new lives.
“Right,” Seiya cracked her knuckles, “My turn.”
“Oh, god help us,” Haruka murmured.
“I spy with my little eye…a super gay nerd.”
“Seiya. That could be anybody here,” Setsuna pointed out.
“Come ON, it’s definitely Ruka. Ruka, that’s definitely you-“
“Papa! There’s baby sheep!” Yuna squealed and ran, before tripping up on a stray shoelace in her haste. Haruka’s entire world stopped for a moment, as if in slow motion, as her daughter careered to the floor, her leg scraping the ground. Haruka felt bile in the back of her throat as she kneeled to pick her up, feeling her heart wretch over and over again as she panicked over her own unforgivable lack of care – she should have kept hold of her, she should have made sure her laces were tied, she should have done something.
“Papa, are you okay?” Yuna blinked up at her, cradled in Haruka’s arms.
Haruka shook away the dangerous images that threatened to taint her mind. Yuna was safe. A tiny cut peered through a rip in her skirt, but her focus was elsewhere, a worried frown on her small features.
She could have seriously hurt herself. Because you’re a terrible parent. Just as you’re a terrible person.
“Yuna, my sweet, come and look at the lambs, yes?”
Haruka wasn’t sure at what point Setsuna had appeared behind her, but she was dimly thankful for her presence.
“Mm!” Yuna shot up, gripping Setsuna’s hand, as Mina pulled Haruka up.
“She’s fine,” Mina said quietly, moving Haruka round so they could watch Yuna climb up the fence with the firm assistance of Setsuna, holding her tightly, much to Haruka’s relief. She giggled with delight as she watched the lambs skip around the field, jovial and unburdened in their relentless appreciation of a life so unexplored and new. Harumi stood a few steps back, grumbling something unintelligible about “stupid sheep” and “dumb baby stuff”, but, as always, there was a smile that occasionally peeked through beneath her tough façade.
She had to grow up fast, after all, because you couldn’t handle it.
“She’s fine, Ruka,” Mina repeated, shaking her shoulders slightly as Haruka’s eyes glazed over again. “She’s fine. It’s just a little scratch.”
“Yeah,” Haruka whispered.
“Now, come on, super gay nerd. I have a feeling your little girl needs her Papa.”
–
“They’re so cute. They’re so cute and fluffy. So cute. So fluffy. I don’t understand how they’re so cute,” Yuna’s face was scrunched up in concentration as she studied the bleating animals. Haruka smiled.
“All babies are cute, just like you, pumpkin.”
“I’M NOT A BABY!”
“Whatever you say, my little monster,” Haruka picked Yuna up under her arms and cuddled her close. She was taken aback for a second before settling in, resting blue curls on her Papa’s shoulder.
“I’m a lot tougher than you think, Pa,” she mumbled.
Haruka was too busy coercing back tears to reply.
“Come onnnnn, Pop, squirt. Let’s goooooo, you’re taking ages with those stupid sheep,” Harumi called. She and Seiya had been pacing around for the last five minutes, each mirroring the other, kicking at stones with the edges of their shoes. Mina was half asleep on a nearby bench, absent-mindedly flicking through her phone (“What the hell did you even do last night!?” “A lady never tells, Tenoh, a lady never tells”) while Setsuna utilised her camera, a state of the art specimen Michiru had bought her a few Christmases back, intending for her to both capture the ever-changing state of their family and also to secure interesting images for Michiru to later paint. Setsuna, as usual, hadn’t disappointed, and their home, for a short period of time - too short, really - had been covered in paintings and sketches and accompanying photographs, courtesy of the household artists. (Yuna had naturally added her own efforts, which often ended up as little more than a few splodges of paint upon paper, but then again, Haruka never had been able to understand modern art.)
All of that was over now, but Setsuna still tried, clutching at the last strings of normality before they fell away, pulling them back together again as she always had done.
For all her efforts, Haruka still felt like she was falling.
–
Haruka took a deep breath as she saw the hill on the horizon, feeling Yuna’s tiny fingers curl around hers. Harumi was stood aside, her eyes dark and downcast.
“Come on, girls. We don’t want to keep your Mama waiting,” Haruka forced the sentence out with a limp smile, holding her other hand out for Harumi to take. Years ago, Harumi would have jumped to her, keen to be close to her family, but now she stayed back, shaking her head. The girl looked at her Papa nervously through gentle eyes and Haruka felt something within her give way.
Harumi couldn’t trust her.
It’s because you’ve never been there for her. It’s because you couldn’t be there for her when she needed you to be. It’s because you were drunk and wasted all those times she needed a father’s shoulder to cry on. It’s because you’re selfish and needy and you couldn’t cope with it and it’s all your fault and-
Haruka squeezed her eyes shut, the paranoid thoughts rattling unwanted through her mind. Seiya noted her discomfort and she took Harumi’s hand herself, pulling the girl to one side.
“Yo, kid, what’s up, eh?”
“I don’t want to…I don’t know if I can…I mean, it’s stupid. I’m not a baby, but, sometimes I feel like a baby. Or like I wanna be a baby. I don’t wanna have to think about all this stuff anymore,” Harumi sniffled and buried her face in her sleeve, embarrassed.
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? You’ve been so strong. We’re all so proud of you. Especially your Papa. You know you’re her golden girl. So if you don’t wanna go up there, that’s more than fine. Me and you, we’ll stay down here, maybe have a kick about, yeah?”
“Okay. Thanks, Seiya.”
“Anytime, princess, anytime.”
Harumi tentatively stepped back towards Haruka.
“Papa. I’m gonna stay here, with Seiya. Is that okay?”
Haruka looked towards Seiya, who nodded affirmatively.
“Of course, angel. Of course.”
–
Michiru’s grave was surrounded by flowers, the breeze of the nearby sea curling relaxingly over the stone, the gentle winds carrying the strong scent of the ocean, their elements intertwined. Haruka’s eyes fell half-reluctantly on the familiar sight.
We really do need to stop meeting like this, you and I.
The chaos in her head calmed slightly as Yuna squeezed her hand, silently asking. Haruka let go and Yuna ran forward, kneeling before the grave of a mother she had barely known, a mother she had learned to love and cherish. Mina’s footsteps receded behind her, keeping a respectful distance, her eyes scanning Haruka’s face, reading her faultlessly as she always had, ready to step in if anything went wrong.
Setsuna kneeled behind Yuna, letting her climb into her lap, the child eager for the affection she intrinsically knew she had lost when the world had taken Michiru from her. Setsuna kissed the tip of her forehead, breathed in the aura of the ocean, read the words on the stone she had recounted so many times before, a reminder of the best friend that was so cruelly torn away from her. She bowed her head as she laid the flowers underneath, letting her hand drift over the engraving.
“You’d be so proud of her, Michi. You’d be so proud of all of them,” Setsuna murmured. There was a reminiscent silence for a few minutes, a silence disturbed only by the sounds of an apologetic Seiya approaching.
“Harumi wanted me to bring this up. She’s fine, don’t worry. She just…well, I think she’s more sensitive than she wants to let on, you know,” Seiya said quietly, holding out a folded up letter, “It’s for her Mum.”
Haruka choked back a sob, fear and anger and regret raising dangerously, a rhythmic tide of painful thoughts that never seemed to leave her alone.
This is your fault. It’s your fault she doesn’t want to share her emotions. She doesn’t want to end up fucked up like you.
“Ruka,” Mina ran a hand along her back, taking the letter from Seiya and passing it over to Setsuna, who carefully laid it down next to the flowers.
“Can I maybe be alone for a little bit? I wanna talk to her,” Haruka whispered so that only Mina could hear. She nodded.
“Hey, Yunie, wanna leave your Mama and Papa alone for a little while and go get some ice cream? Setsuna’s treat,” Mina prepositioned cheekily, to Yuna’s delightful affirmations. Setsuna smiled.
“You know, I could have sworn you used to say you’d grow up someday, Minako Aino.”
“What can I say? I’m a good liar,” Mina laughed lightly, picking Yuna up and slinging her over her shoulder with one swift movement. Setsuna gave the grave one last touch before making her way over to Haruka.
“We will be just over the road, okay? Come and get some ice cream when you’re ready,” she said quietly, patting Haruka on the shoulder. As she walked away, Seiya went to follow, before turning back hesitantly.
“Haruka?”
“Seiya.”
She may have intended to snap, but her voice wobbled, the shaky foundations peering out from underneath.
“You doing okay, dude?”
“Yeah, yeah. Get going, asshole.”
Seiya smirked, patting Haruka’s shoulder, “Don’t be too long, yeah? You’re doing great, man. These kids, they’re a credit to you. She’d be…she’d be really proud.”
“I’ll tell Mina you said that. She’s never gonna shut up about it. Marshmallow butches and all that,” Haruka forced a smile through her tears.
“Don’t you dare, dickface.”
The smile slipped from Haruka’s face as she listened to Seiya’s footsteps move away.
“Hey,” she said shakily, to nobody in particular. Gathering herself, she approached the edge of the cliff, looking out over the ocean.
“They tell me you’re buried under that rock over there, but I don’t wanna think about you like that,” Haruka swallowed, letting the tears fall, “I don’t wanna think about you lying there. That’s not the way I wanna remember you. I always called you my little mermaid-“
She stopped, her voice breaking as she cried helplessly, desperately, her knees finding the ground, collapsing.
“I…always called you my little mermaid. Sometimes when Yuna asks me to tell her about you, that’s what I’ll say. Your mama is a beautiful mermaid with glorious aqua hair that settled for a rough, common human girl who was never good enough for her,” she laughed bitterly, “I don’t know if she believes it’s true. Maybe. She’s still young enough.”
“I wanna believe it’s true, sometimes. I wanna believe you’re out there. Maybe you are. They keep telling me you’d be proud of me, but I’m not so sure. I’m a failure, Michi. I keep fucking things up and I don’t know…I don’t know if I can do this without you. If it wasn’t for the kids, I’d have thrown myself in there with you. I know I would.”
“Harumi has grown so much. She’s so brave, and she’s so mature and she’s so beautiful and I swear she’s gonna be the best rock star ever, or pop idol or whatever it is she wants to be at the moment. She claims to have thrown out all her classical stuff, but I know her violin is still there. I hear her playing, sometimes. If I close my eyes I can imagine it’s you.”
“And Yuna. God knows how that kid turned out so well with nothing but me for a parent. You’d have loved her, Michi, I know it. I wish you could have seen her grow. I wish you could see her grow up now. I’d give anything, just to let you see our little baby girl one last time.”
“And I’m so scared,” Haruka breathed in sharply, trying to steady herself, “I’m so so scared all the time. I’m empty without you and I don’t know what to do about it. But you shouldn’t worry, okay? Wherever you are. You shouldn’t worry about me because I’ve got people that look after me, even if I don’t deserve them. You know how we used to say Setsuna was a better mother to us than any of our parents? She hasn’t changed a bit. I don’t think she ever will. The kids dote on her. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She forces me out of bed in the mornings, she gets us all breakfast, takes the kids to school and you know, in all this, she’s never angry with me. She has every right to be, but she never is. I’ve asked her about it and she just goes all misty eyed and talks about things she’s always wanted to have. And I guess she’s right. In the end of it, family is all we’ve got.”
“And Mina, god, our Mina. Her and Rei are getting married next year. It’s terrifying, actually, to think about Mina attempting adulthood, but then again I guess we managed somehow. So she’ll make it. She’s my rock, that girl. You always said she was a bad influence, and you were right in some ways, but she’s so good to me. I guess you always knew that too. If anyone’s gonna pull me through this, she is, you know? Though I’m really glad she’s not hear right now, listening to me say all this crap because I’d never hear the end of it.”
“I suppose the biggest surprise is Seiya. I know, I know, why aren’t we up here fighting each other for your entertainment? You always laughed at us, at both of us. The truth is I don’t know if I have it in me to fight over stupid shit anymore, like I used to. Sometimes I can’t believe I’ll admit this, but Seiya’s great, especially with Harumi. She gets her in a way that I can’t, I think. I won’t lie, I get jealous a lot. She’s my kid, not hers. But I’m a fuck up, so. Seiya takes care of her and I’m grateful she has that. She needs somebody she can confide in, even if that person can’t be me.”
“I guess what I’m saying is, I know I’m not doing very well right now. I know I could be better. But I want you to know that if anyone’s gonna get me through it, these people are. This year could be my year, you know? They say spring is a time for new beginnings. Maybe I’ll get my act together, get a job, quit drinking and be a decent parent again.”
“I miss you, Michiru,” Haruka’s voice dropped to a whisper, secretive as the youthful meetings they used to savour in private, “I love you. I miss you and I love you. One day, I really will make you proud, Michi.”
Haruka, of course, would never be able to understand that she already had.