It makes something in Michiru's chest tighten, the way Haruka sounds right now. Haruka, who is so often brash and bold, sounds every bit like the teenager she is, and— they can't brush this off, can they?

Michiru swallows thickly as she pulls back. It takes effort to be able to meet her eyes, and the vulnerability she sees there makes her want to look away, but she won't.

"I couldn't watch you die like that."

She wants it to come out easy and unaffected, but her voice sounds thin in a way that's markedly unlike her. All at once, she feels like the girl she was years ago, when she first met Haruka.

Michiru's grip on her shirt tightens, if only by a little bit. She doesn't want her to pull back any further than she already has. At the same time, though, she doesn't want to stop her.

"I won't ask for your understanding," she says, after a long moment.