If Only

Disclaimer: I do not own Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon or its characters. Please don't sue me!

This is my second Sailor Moon fic. You can go read my first one, "A Night to Remember" at my profile page. If you hated that one, you'll definitely hate this one, too. And I'm sorry if the details on my fics aren't accurate. I actually hated Sailor Moon. The only thing—lemme correct that—characters I like there are Haruka and Michiru. Let's begin, shall we?

…

Haruka whipped some cream into the coffee she was making. Then she stirred it until it blended perfectly with the black liquid, creating a creamy texture. She continued preparing the meal while humming happily to herself. She would surprise Michiru.

After, she put the plates and the mug of coffee on a silver tray and carried it just above her shoulders as if she was a waiter of some sort. Then she walked up the stairs towards the bedroom.

She paused as she reached her room. She took a deep breath and slowly unlocked the doorknob.

"Michiru, I brought you break—" She couldn't continue her sentence. She froze.

The food tray she was holding slipped from her hand and its contents crashed on the cold floor. She dropped on her knees. She watched in horror the sight that was in front of her.

There was a pool of blood on the floor—and on Michiru's hands.

Michiru coughed violently until she saw Haruka's shocked expression. "Oh, I-I didn't no-notice you w-were there." Michiru softly said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I was afraid you'd be worried." Michiru lowered her head.

"What do you think I'm feeling now?"

"I-I'm so-sorry." Michiru's voice trembled.

Then everything went silent. None of them spoke for at least a few minutes more. One could hear a pin drop.

And Michiru was the first one to break the awkward silence. "Haruka, could you do a favor for me?"

"Anything."

"W-would you embrace me?" Michiru requested as her voice still quivered. She struggled to sit upright on the bed with her back leaning against the bedpost. "One last time?"

Haruka shivered at those three words. 'One last time...'

"Don't say that."

But nonetheless, she did as Michiru told her. She hugged her so tightly that she never wanted to let go. "I love you, Michiru..."

Haruka could feel the steady beating of her lover's heart. She felt the warmth of her body. It could melt the ice buried in the depths of her own heart. She knew tears were starting to fall from her eyes, onto Michiru's shoulders. No one ever saw her cry before. But she didn't care.

"Michiru, what would you like for dinner?"

No answer.

"Hey, don't scare me like that."

Still no reply.

"Michiru, it's not funny. Don't make jokes like that."

Then she felt coldness creeping down her body. One that came from her partner's body. It sent a chilly feeling on her spine.

"Michiru?"

"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!" Haruka frantically panicked. She shook Michiru's shoulders over and over again to make her wake up.

But she didn't.

"Michiru, please answer me..." Haruka whispered as tears continued to flood her eyes.

She held Michiru's lifeless body. She literally died in her arms.

"!"

…

Haruka woke up. Sweat was falling from her forehead. She had been haunted by that nightmare again. She had been dreaming that same dream every night.

Then she rolled on the other side of the bed.

Ever since Michiru died.

That was how exactly it happened. In fact, it only happened last week. And from then on, she kept dreaming that horrible nightmare. It terrified her so much that she'd cry every night.

Haruka got up and proceeded to the closet by her bed and opened it to choose her clothes for the day.

"Haruka, how many times do I have to tell you not to leave your clothes lying around?"

Then she picked her favorite one and started changing. Not long after, she went down the stairs and continued to the refrigerator to fix up some snacks.

"Haruka, didn't I already tell you not to open the fridge every so often?"

She took a milk carton and got a box of cereals. She looked for a bowl and instantly poured the box's contents into the bowl and poured some milk with it. Then she ate her fill without a word.

After eating, she brought her bowl to the sink and began to open the faucet to wash the dishes.

"Haruka, what did I say about leaving your dirty dishes in the sink?"

She promptly squeezed the bottle of dishwashing liquid onto the sponge she held in her hand and started to wipe the bowl until it was all wet and bubbly. When she was done, she rinsed the bowl to remove the soap, dried it with a clean towel and placed it back on the rack.

Then she decided to take a bath. She undressed herself and tossed her dirty clothes into the hamper by the washing machine.

"Haruka, didn't I say for a billion kazillion times that you should do your own laundry?"

She stepped into the shower and let the water flow freely down her face. It was relaxing. She scrubbed her body from head to toe. It was a fast bath. Haruka reached for her bathrobe and tied it on her body.

She checked on her closet again for fresh clothes and wore them immediately. She rushed down the stairs and sat on the couch, got the remote control and clicked the television open. She flipped on the channels until she got to her favorite channel about race car driving.

"Haruka, would you please let me watch another show?"

That voice always bothered her. Whatever she did, it always called her. She knew very well who its owner was.

And that person always appeared in her mind. She wouldn't go away. Haruka tried to think of other things, yet she always won the number one spot in her head.

Michiru.

Every part of the apartment had the memory of Michiru. Every corner, nook and cranny. It was like she still lived there—together with Haruka. As how they promised each other. Together, forever.

It was difficult but she had to face the fact that Michiru was gone.

And whenever she remembered her, she cried. Nobody ever saw her cry. And she tried so hard not to.

Because it was a sign of weakness.

And she did not want to be weak.

She wanted to be strong for the people she loved. For the people she cared about.

For the people she wanted to protect.

For Michiru.

Haruka climbed the stairs leading to her room. She thought she could tidy the room even a bit. Michiru would have liked that, too.

So she started to dig up a heavy trunk under her bed and opened it. There, she saw a large painting. She hadn't seen this one before. She stared at it closely and saw two utterly familiar figures. One was a tall, blonde woman—and another girl—with wavy, aqua hair that swayed with the wind. They were standing under a tree at the dusk of evening.

And she also saw piles of letters scattered inside the musty trunk. They all had the same handwriting. Beautiful penmanship that could only belong to one person.

Haruka lifted up one of the letters and began to read it.

Dearest Haruka,

I don't know how to start this, really. I'm inexperienced when it comes to this. After all, it is my first time to write a love letter. I hope you would accept it—if I have a chance to hand it to you.

To tell you the truth, I've never felt this way about anyone before. There are lots of men who ask me to go with them, but I just don't feel anything for them. The first time my eyes fell on you, it was like I couldn't take them away anymore. You were so charming and attractive, not to mention kind-hearted—as far as I see it, though.

At first, I only saw my feelings as a mere admiration—but then it gradually changed. I realized, I didn't like you—I love you.

And I'm afraid you'd only reject me. There are many other pretty young girls out there who are more deserving than me.

I guess I'd be only left dreaming. I must be stupid to think you'd love me back.

But always remember that when you need someone to lean on to, someone to run to. I'll always be here.

I'll always love you.

With love,

Michiru

The letter fell from her hand. And then she glanced back to the trunk to see the others.

Michiru never had the chance to give even one of the letters she wrote.

Haruka returned the trunk to where it was. She walked down the stairs silently and headed for the door.

She decided it was time to drive some laps for an upcoming race. She did a few ones before she finally drove to a nearby park for fresh air.

She saw a bench under the shade of a large tree and sat there. A cool breeze swept through her and made the leaves dance with it. They flew to the clear, blue sky.

How Haruka wanted to fly, too. To be as free as those leaves.

Then she bowed her head until she faced the ground. She lowered it that way so no one would notice her sob.

She knew crying would do nothing to change what happened. It was useless. But she wept anyway.

She remembered how old people used to say, "You'll realize the importance of a person when that person is already gone." She had always dismissed what they said. She should've listened to them.

How right they were.

If only she could turn back time and change the past. Reverse her mistakes and make them right.

To spend more time with Michiru and make her feel she was important. Make her feel that she was loved.

But it was too late. It was impossible.

Yet she longed for her.

She wanted her back.

No, she needed her.

She would give up everything. All that she had. Even her own life—if that would mean to make her alive again.

Michiru was the world to her and probably, she was only a small part of the world to Michiru.

Haruka's whole world shattered into a thousand pieces when God took Michiru away. Her heart crumbled in a great torrent so excruciatingly and agonizingly painful that she wanted to die.

So she could be with Michiru.

If only God gave her another shot at destiny. She would try to make her life right. She would change her old ways. If she'd found another Michiru, she would never let her go again.

She would never commit the same mistakes again.

Then a ring interrupted her from her thoughts. She felt her cellphone vibrating from her pocket. So she reached for it and answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Haruka?" It was a feminine voice.

"Yes. And you are?"

"Michiru." The voice replied.

"You must be kidding me."

"No, it's true." The voice insisted.

"Hey, buddy. If you're trying to make a joke here, it's not funny."

"I'm not expecting you to believe me." The voice answered.

"Yeah, right." Haruka sarcastically said.

"Look behind you." The voice firmly instructed.

"Another joke?" Haruka mockingly asked. But then she followed anyway and turned her head around.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Across from where she was staying was a rather familiar person.

The girl's soft aqua-hair swayed with the wind.

It was Michiru.

-OWARI—

Done. Oh, well. Thank you for those who "may" read this. If someone "would" be reading this stupid fic of mine. R&R!