The grey sky had become a drizzle, and that drizzle had turned to a true rain, and and now Rei Hino found herself watching as scraps of paper raced down the sidewalk, boats adrift in the torrent. She kept on, her shoes squishing sickeningly in the rain, as she moved down the street to her goal.
She didn’t mind the rain, if allowances were made for the shoes. It allowed her a certain sort of solitude, and the last thing she needed was someone watching as she slunk away to go visit Michiru.
It wasn’t even that she thought Michiru could help, if she was being honest with herself, but Michiru was a good enough listener, though her silence might, sometimes, be read as disapproval. Rei had to risk it. With the tumult of the year, Usagi so emotionally tightly wound, Mina and Rei constantly loving and struggling and battling, to say nothing of the thousand other dramas of the other girls, sometimes Rei needed Michiru’s silence.
It was something like meditating, talking to Michiru, sometimes.
She always planned what she would say, and the rain today lent a rhythm to her speech. Hello, Michiru. I hope you’re not busy. You won’t believe what Usagi is doing, right at this second. It had to sound polished, but like it had never been meant to be so, that she simply, naturally, was on Michiru’s level.
She had picked up some lilies, as an offering, and hoped Michiru would approve. It felt wrong, not to bring a gift, when she intended to spend the better part of an hour complaining about the two wayward blondes in her life. Michiru would understand, having a wayward blonde of her own so near to her now, after everything.
Her shoes wobbled uncertainly across the grass–Michiru would have to forgive her for all the mud, but there was no avoiding it.
She stopped and put her umbrella down, letting the rain soak into her hair. She set the carefully-wrapped bouquet against the stone, and folded her hands in front of her.
“Hello, Michiru. I hope you’re not busy. You won’t believe what Usagi is doing, right at this second.”