Haruka's frustration only builds higher in the face of Michiru's unaffectedness, clenched fists quaking at her sides. Michiru always shows so little on the surface, she knows this, but this is different -- no matter how deeply she searches for it, there's not a single sign of fear, of wavering, in Michiru's face.

"Of course it does!" Wasn't she scared? Isn't she scared now, to think of how it could have turned out? "How could you not--"

It dies halfway through her throat, as the realization finally settles-- the color drains from Haruka's face, and she takes another, stumbling step back.

She wasn't scared. She was never...

"You were never going to keep it, were you."