Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Ruin ❯ Hajime ( Chapter 3 )

Haruka awoke to an abrupt, but deadly tug on her short, dirty blond hair.
“You idiot!” Michiru shrieked.
Haruka cried out as Michiru tightened her grip on her hair and flung her face forward into her clothes dresser across the room.
“Hajime will be here in twenty minutes, you…you slut!” Michiru could not think of any other name to call the heathen at the time.

Haruka slowly peeled herself from the dresser, wincing as pain flooded her face.
“I didn't mean to-” Haruka started, trying to prevent her crushed, bleeding nose from dripping all over her expensive, and already blood-stained carpet.
“Just get dressed while I try to do something about this hair of mine.” Michiru took a quick glance at Haruka. “And do something about your nose. You really ought to take better care of yourself.” Michiru scoffed, and then placed herself on the plush stool beside the full-length, gold-edged mirror Haruka had bought for her.

Michiru sprayed a large dose of hair formula around her head, lathered some white substance into it, and then shook her head lightly. Then she went to her closet and pulled out a large assortment of dresses and laid them on the end of the bed. Haruka turned to her own dresser and shuffled through her clothes. She pulled out a black leather jacket and a pair of dark pants and painfully slipped them onto her aching body.

“So what are you going to tell him, Haruka?” Michiru asked, still looking into the mirror and combing something else into her hair.
“We were never together. Just friends,” Haruka managed to pull the repulsive words from her throat.
“Yes. What else?”
Haruka tried to think of all that Michiru had said, but she didn't remember anything else.
“What else?” Michiru asked again.
“I-I don't know.”

“Now Haruka, we can't very well have you racing still. What do you think that would do to my relationship with Hajime? You will tell him that you're going to quit. That it was wrong for you to even try in the first place. Racing is only for men. Do you understand?”
Haruka could not believe what her ears were telling her. “Michi-Michiru…that wasn't what…you didn't say-”
“Do you understand?!!” Michiru screamed, taking her attention from her hair for the first time,
“I understand.” Haruka didn't dare say anything else.
“Good.”

Michiru finished with her hair; the products she had smothered it with had miraculously pulled it into perfect ringlets. She walked over to the bed and quickly chose a low-cut red silk dress (another token of affection from Haruka) that exposed nearly all of her cleavage and all of her left leg with its slit down the side. Haruka tried not to notice how beautiful she looked, but her feelings had stayed the same even through the whole mess.

Haruka jumped as she heard the car approaching. The sound wasn't loud or sudden at all, but she jumped anyway out of sheer nervousness.
“Go get the door! Ad don't you dare start stuttering in front of him. You sound like an idiot,” Michiru hissed.
“Y-yes,” Haruka stuttered.
She checked her reflection in the mirror one more time and went downstairs after Haruka.

The woman drew in a deep breath and opened the door to the man (creature) that she hated the most, using all of her willpower to prevent herself from socking Hajime in the face.
“Good evening,” Haruka managed to put on a decent tone and a semi-smile. “She'll be down in a few moments.”
Haruka stepped outside the door and shut it behind her, staring into Hajime's eyes, which told her that he was just as happy to see her as she was to see him.

“Listen Hajime. I know you don't want to talk, but this is important,” Haruka started.
Hajime was silent for the first time in his life and waited for Haruka to continue with a snobbish look on his face and his arms crossed over his defined chest.
“Michiru and I were not together, we've always been just friends. We didn't mean for there to be any misunderstanding. She's just living here because she doesn't have anywhere else to stay. She's all yours. I don't care at all. In fact, I hope you two have a nice time together.” Haruka felt that the last few sentences may have ruined it all because of the bit of sarcasm she had let flow in.

Haruka lowered her head and rested her brow in her palm. “I quit the team. I don't think I can keep it up anymore. I didn't belong there in the first place. Women don't belong there.” Haruka could believe the crap that was coming from her own lips. Hajime was still speechless, but a satisfied smile had replaced his former expression.
“Did you just realize that, Tenoh?” Hajime spat at Haruka's foot and straitened his tie against his tuxedo.

Hajime shoved Haruka into one of the stone columns beside the door, causing Haruka to cry out as her open sores came in contact with the hard stone. Then the door opened, as if Michiru had been waiting for Hajime to bestow the little act of kindness on Haruka before she came out to greet him. Michiru stepped out daintily, twirled around once in her red high heels and stopped in a pose in front of Hajime. The dress flew high enough up her leg at the slit that Haruka (and Hajime) could see that she was wearing a black lace thong. She knew instantly that Michiru wasn't only planning a nice French dinner.