As Near To Heaven By Sea
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After a hard battle, Michiru and Haruka found themselves finally alone, high up in the canopy of an abandoned church long forgotten to the indifference of time. They’d taken a moment to catch their breath and for Haruka to assess Michiru’s wounds. The enemy had twisted its long nails through Michiru’s chest, leaving large, painful scars. The dusty stained glass permitted the moon to filter through pinks, yellows, and blues, casting itself onto the wooden boards of the walls and flooring where white paint had begun to peel from age.
“Michiru…” Haruka ran a gloved hand against the pool of blood that had begun to bloom across the white fabric of Michiru’s sailor suit. “You have to be more careful. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Michiru smiled weakly, sighing. “I am sorry. It cannot be helped.”
Haruka didn’t seem relieved in the slightest. She stared, questioningly, searching for the right words to express her feelings. She couldn’t find them.
Michiru looked away from that look, from Haruka’s insightful gaze that always watched over her. “My duties as a Soldier are all that I am.”
Haruka let her palm strike the wall that she’d pinned Michiru to, the slam ringing out through the church rafters that the pair were hidden amidst. Despite Haruka’s frustration, her eyebrows were furrowed with concern. “That’s not true! To me… you’re…”
Michiru blinked, startled more by Haruka’s confession, curious about the words that Haruka tried to swallow back.
“I am…?” Michiru tried to encourage her, wishing so desperately she could reach for Haruka and bring her back down closer to her, to have her roll like waves back into her arms once again.
“I can’t.” Tears burned at Haruka's eyes as she spoke. She took her time between the words, her body craning against Michiru’s as though it wanted to crash into her as much as Michiru wished it would. “You know I can’t say it.”
“Why won’t you?” Michiru asked after the silence they had shared began to feel unbearable.
“We know better.” Haruka couldn’t help but get lost in Michiru’s dreamy, rosy lips. She found herself tracing the lines of Michiru’s wavy, silky teal locks with her eyes, lost in how they glittered like they were braids of translucent kelp in a tropical ocean. Michiru’s very eyes were like spheres into the most beautiful, sparkling sea—the door to the private beach of her mind where only Haruka was permitted.
“We aren’t children anymore.”
Michiru couldn’t help but laugh faintly at that, remembering their youth they’d shared together, lacking the understanding of the boundaries cousins—same-sex cousins at that—should share. Their childish desires, the forbidden rose of love that had bloomed, had landed them in this prickly situation to begin with, the thorn impossible to pluck. Neither could pull themselves away from each other, growing in tandem like twisted vines, joined by the root, by their blood. Now, even in their destiny as Sailor Scouts, they were forced to face temptation once more.
“I do not believe that our union is wrong…” Michiru drew in a long breath, leaving Haruka feeling weak, unable to tell if that sigh was from the pain of Michiru's wound or the pain of their separateness. “It would be impossible for it to feel… so perfect.”
Michiru’s eyelashes fluttered. She seemed so delicate, relaxed in her vulnerable position between Haruka’s strong arms.
Haruka clenched her fist. This would require all of her strength. Why could Michiru always blow her resistance away like mere cherry blossom petals in the wind?
Their silence, a severe one born from repressed desire and bursting threads of self control, made them feel as though they were in another world. Haruka was the sky, the soaring rushes of emotion that found their way to Michiru, the watery depths where all of Haruka’s emotions were seen, understood, and accepted. Michiru let Haruka take the lead, permitting the tempests of Haruka’s command to guide her along as it always had.
Haruka moved towards Michiru with confidence from her decision, the resolve from the most intimate place in her heart. Wordlessly, breathlessly, she dove to Michiru, claiming her as best as she could. Michiru was obedient, always rushing to take the shape of whatever form Haruka requested.
Haruka kissed her, the taste familiar, nostalgic, finally satisfying. She moaned faintly, hardly audible.
“I will always be yours.” Michiru sighed, feeling as though the only place she belonged was right here, right now, in the arms of her blonde prince. “No matter what.”
Haruka didn’t hesitate to kiss her again.