Michiru never asks straightforward questions, and Haruka, in turn, never gives straightforward answers. It's how they are. They know each other well enough to discern the meaning from sidelong glances and flippant remarks -- but Haruka doesn't want that right now.

Her eyes lock onto Michiru's, steady and intent. She has to make sure there's no room left for doubt.

"... Michiru." Her fingers curl against the fabric of her shirt, and Haruka runs her tongue over dry lips. Swallows. "I don't want to go back."