Michiru and Setsuna with 22

docholligay:

Things You Said After It Was Over

I assembled her outfit carefully. It would have been more
appropriate, I suppose, to have dressed her in a suit. I even looked
at them, hanging in her closet, ran my hands over the wool/cashmere
blends—those were her favorite, suitable for all season a
relatively wrinkle resistant, hanging nicely on her narrow frame—but
I couldnt select one. Laughably, I worried that she might be
uncomfortable. Our minds are erratic things at the best of times, and
I coudn’t begin to explain how my mind wandered in this dark hour.

And so I selected something more casual. The blue shirt with the
pearl buttons I liked so well, the one that brought out the eyes she
would never open again. The navy sweater with the deep neck to
contain the warmth her body no longer held. One of her whisper-soft
undershirts, she was always so picky about that layer closest to her
skin, and I refused to let anything harsh touch her now, of all
times.

I misted a little bit of her cologne on the sweater. She would smell
wrong, scrubbed medically and devoid of the spice of her own scent.
No tiny smear of oil and grass to round out the smell I knew as
Haruka. But this would help, at least.

Most people left me alone to my ministrations.

You are not most people.

“I think she will look lovely in that, Michiru.” You appeared,
like always. It’s not as if you go places, you are simply in them
when one looks up. It’s very off-putting.

I didn’t respond to you. What would you have me say? She looked
lovely in everything, even that awful mustard suit she liked so well.
Even that terrible purple shirt that matched my pink one. She wore it
whenever I suggested. I don’t know that she actually even liked it,
but she liked the idea of belonging to me. Belonging was so important
to her. She wore it with cuffed chinos and loafers without socks, as
if the shirt by itself wasnt—what did Mina call it? Lesbian Dad.
Yes, as if the shirt wasn’t Lesbian Dad enough on its own.

I laughed in spite of everything.

You smiled and drifted to my side. “She was very funny, wasn’t she?
Sometimes without trying to be.”

I looked up at you. Why were you talking about her? Why try to bring
her to my mind? If I can just focus on what needs to be done, I can
survive one more day. I push the way her shoulders came up when she
laughed from my mind.

“I hope the catering is all in order, Pluto.” I folded the
clothes into a bag. “And the flowers.”

“Everyone is taking care of everything, Michiru. It’ll be the kind
of ceremony she deserved.” You reached out to me, but I stepped
away.

“If Mina has her way, I’m certain there will be an open bar.” I
clutched the bag close to my body. “If you’ll forgive me, I need to
deliver this to the funeral home. God knows what they would dress her
in without my intervention. I am her only real family, you know, I
must be involved in every aspect, so, if you please, I’m sure you
know the way out.”

You stood for a moment, frowning. “May I come? I could drive, even.
I know you don’t usually drive…” You trailed off sadly.

“No, that’s fine. It’s not as if the only one with a license in
this house was Haruk–” Her name stuck in my throat like a hard
candy, and my body cried out for air. I looked up to the ceiling, as
if some agent of mercy who never existed would swoop down and restore
her to me, or at least bring me along.

Your arms were around my shoulders, gripping me tightly. “It must
hurt so badly, Michiru.”

I remembered to breathe again. “Life is meant to be pain, and
everything we love is meant to be taken away from us eventually. I’m
no different from the rest of the world.” I can’t move, can’t let
go of the bag, shaking now. I hope she doesn’t notice that I am
losing my careful control, that my heart cannot bear the flood of
memories. I can survive, if I cut it off, if I allow it to become the
shriveled brown nothing it was before Haruka scaled the walls of my
secret garden and brought it to life.

“Haruka’s love wasn’t a punishment for you.” You said it so
simply, and I hated you for seeing through me.

“Stop.” It was both command and plea.

“You were so wonderful for her.” Every word she said was like a
lash unto my back. “You brought so many lovely things out in her.”

I looked at the bed, and all I can see is Haruka snuggled happily
under the covers, her hand reaching out to me as always, always
looking for some small affections. I can feel my cheek against her
shoulder as we sat in the park together, Haruka pointing out
particularly charming birds she doesn’t remember the names of but
likes the look of, tiny feathered tennis balls of things, hardly
graceful at all but very much loved by her. She loved to feed the
pigeons. I teased her about it.

The memories grew dark, they always did, they never stayed in the
light of the past. I didn’t protect her. The only banner I swore
myself to, and I failed. She was covered in blood and in bruises, she
was shaking and she couldn’t breathe. And what did I do? Nothing. I
rocked her in my arms and told her I loved her. That she was brave.
That she had done well. And then it was over.

“I’m so sorry, my love.” I didn’t even know I had said it, and as
soon as I heard my voice echo off the walls, I sank to my knees. The
weight of her loss too heavy now to bear. You came to the floor with
me, and I shook my head. “Leave me alone.” I took a deep breath
and tried to yell, but it came out a weak whine. “Let me die.”

You held me tight and whispered in my ear. “You did everything you
could for her. And we’ll do everything we can for you.”

“I’m nothing now, I don’t care about the world, I don’t care about
the Princess, I don’t care about Crystal Tokyo. I will fail all of
you. All of you. And I’ll laugh while I do it.” I tried to pull
away, but you were too much. “Damn the world anyhow!”

“No, no, you don’t think that.” You paused. “You might think
that. But Haruka, you can do it for her. She died trying, Michiru, we
have to take up the sword for her. And you’ll see how we love you,
and you still have a family. Michiru, don’t give up.”

You were so sweet, to love me, Pluto. To assure me that I was loved.
You did drive me to the funeral home that day, and you sat with me
for many hours in the aftermath of her loss. I never healed. I carry
her with me like a ragged cross, rubbing the skin from my back and
digging splinters into my blood.

That was a year ago.

I do not believe in an afterlife, a heaven or a hell. Heaven and hell
is too terrifying a concept for me—I cannot be separated from
Haruka for eternity. But my only peace will come with oblivion, and
so I look forward to it. I have seen this day a thousand times, this
battle we will fight. I am pleased to report I never survive. That I
will follow Haruka into the darkness. I am not afraid, Pluto.

I’ve laid out the pink dress Haruka liked so well on the bed. If you
ever loved me at all, please lay me beside her. The paperwork is in
the top drawer of the desk.

I love you, my friend.