Disclaimer: Sailor Moon has never been mine

I always knew I was destined to go to Hell. Heaven was no place for a sinner like me.

My numerous one night stands and just the plain fact that I preferred girls over boys, despite me being a girl, could testify to that. How many times I had been kicked out of a church after them hearing about my 'dastardly, unnatural ways,' I couldn't count on my hands.

It never bothered me though. In fact, I embraced it.

I started having girls here and there, my bed never occupied as I made my rounds around different bars and nightclubs. I stopped going to church, stopped caring what people thought about me, stopped caring about my safety, and just stopped feeling. After all, who other than me had cared about myself? As far as I could tell, it seemed like Hell could be no worse than Earth.

I was alone in every single way, despite the multiple girls I 'visited' at night. I never let a girl into my own bed, nor did I attempt to build a deeper connection with any of them. When they began to talk after we had both reached our peaks, I gave my fingers access to their burning center once again, making them forget about everything except the excruciating pleasure they were feeling.

I must have lived that way, having a girl and then leaving her before she woke, for two years. I barely did anything other than racing and girls. I let out my frustration in rough sex and racing. I did everything I wanted, paying no attention to the immorality of my actions or the consequences that were sure to come.

Then, she came into my life, lighting up all the dark corners of me that I hid from the rest of the world.

Of course, at first I was guarded around her, her motives being unclear at that time. To be truthful, she pissed me off, being able to wake up feelings inside me that had been dormant for so long. Just who did she think she was, playing with my emotions like she did her violin?

But, with just six words, she was able to make me blush, with just four, she could bring back the nightmare that constantly plagued me, and within a hundred, she simultaneously set me free and trapped me.

I became Sailor Uranus, and my life became considerably better after she moved into my apartment, saying it would be easier to hide our secret double lives from others if we were simply considered to be in a relationship with each other. I found out our mission was to save the world and find the Messiah, though we didn't know who she was still.

Yet I still felt like a dirty sinner. My mind was plagued with the thought of Michiru constantly, and no matter how many girls I visited, I couldn't shake her out of my mind. During our first months living together, I must have actually slept in our apartment for a total of three days.

To me, Michiru was like the first snowfall of winter. I couldn't bear to dirty her with my thoughts and actions, so I went out and lost myself in pleasure nightly, imagining with each girl, that she had aquamarine hair, and intense cobalt eyes.

Thankfully, Michiru seemed to understand that I needed space and she allowed me to do as I pleased. It only made me lust, or so I thought at the time, for her even more.

I did not allow myself to think it was love that I actually felt for my elegant counterpart; no, it was still too soon for that. But, as we kept fighting daimons that seemed to get stronger each time, and as we kept tending to each other's wounds, I found myself falling for her even more if possible.

However, I found myself being more distant to her every day.

I could not dirty her, I could not taint her pure self, I could not bring her down with me to the burning flames of Hell.

I got by on the notion that everything I was doing, the precautions I took to distance myself, was for her. During battles, I never let her strike the killing blow if Sailor Moon and her petty followers did not come. In fact, I barely let her attack at all in a futile, misguided attempt to keep her 'clean.' It was better to let me be defiled with the sin of killing rather than her.

My hands were already dirty, so it didn't matter if I got another smudge, but Michiru on the other hand, was perfect, white, and pure. At that time, I had no idea of what she had faced before, so to me, Michiru was the embodiment of perfection.

If she was irritated with me always hogging the monster, which she surely must have been, she never showed it. Instead, at the end of each battle, she merely turned to me and gave a quiet thanks and a smile that never seemed to reach her eyes.

We must have stayed that way for about a month, a distance burgeoning between us as we searched for the three people who would have to die for the sake of the world and our Messiah. It was after a particularly nasty battle with a daimon that we got the fax from Eugial. Michiru had been swimming in the private pool above our apartment. I was sitting on the windowsill, a rare moment when both of us were together in our civilian forms.

It was when we got the fax of directions that I finally realized what was going to happen. At this Marine Cathedral, a person would have to die.

But I had to be the one to kill it, not Michiru. I couldn't risk her hands getting stained and turning black like mine. I had to be the murderer, I would carry the burden.

I scrutinized my hands. This time, they would directly be stained with the blood of an actual human being rather than the blood of monsters that were beyond humanity (or so I tried to convince myself) or the dirty fluids from my nighttime excursions.

A warm hand entwined its slender fingers with mine, and I looked up, surprised to see Michiru in front of me.

"Don't worry Haruka. I like your hands," her voice was gentle and filled with an almost tangible compassion. Feeling her soft touch, I involuntarily shivered and my mind immediately filled with visions of a lifetime of holding hands with her. It took all of my self control to not declare my undying love for her and ravish her at that moment in all her swimsuit clad glory, and I had to get away. I abruptly got to my feet and stalked away, running when I felt that her pervasive eyes were not poring into my back anymore.

I let the brisk wind bring me back to my senses as I ran with it.

'She wasn't thinking of you in that way, she just wanted to make you feel better.'

After feeling that I had calmed down sufficiently enough, I went back to our apartment to prepare for the battle to come. My resolve had hardened and I was ready to kill in order to preserve the clean hands of my beautiful partner.

My beautiful, sweet Michiru; no, I still could not claim Michiru as mine at that time. Yet, after her display at the Marine Cathedral, how could I not admit that she harbored feelings for me? After all, she had died with my name on her rose petal lips, not Uranus's. This gave me a perverse and guilty joy that I could not deny. I still tried furiously to contest what I had witnessed, guilt spurring me on. How could such a perfect being want or belong with such a corrupted being as me?

An end had finally been brought to my denial by Michiru herself as she picked out the arrowheads out of my abdominal area after I had picked out the substantially more numerous arrowheads in hers. One suggestive touch, then another, and then we were suddenly tangled in one scorching, caustic mess, desperately trying to fully lose ourselves in each other after the pent up tension between us could no longer be bottled up. Kisses and bites were equally given as our hands roamed and groped all they could touch. Confessions of our love for each other slipped out in the throes of our passion.

When we had tired ourselves out and the heat of the moment was gone, we both lied stilly on the bed, as if we could not believe what we had just done. Euphoria temporarily washed over me and I moved to embrace Michiru before I regained my senses. Despite the intimacy and confessions that had just occurred between us, I was wary of simply wrapping my arms around her and I stiffened again. Then, as if she was aware of my internal turmoil, Michiru cuddled up to me, nuzzling her head in the crook of my neck.

With her wavy hair so close to my nose, her clean, delicious scent so similar to that of the ocean breeze, overwhelmed my nose and dispelled my lingering doubts. I took in a deep breath and somehow I felt cleansed. Gripping her tightly, I whispered, "I won't let you go," before I finally succumbed to my exhaustion with one last thought.

Even if I was damned to go to Hell, I would fight out of the depths of Hell to reunite with Michiru in that pearly white Heaven.

A/N: I took a bit of creative license in aging Haruka and Michiru from the manga/anime because I can't imagine fourteen year olds having this experience

It's not what I usually write but it just flowed out. Since it's my first time writing a comparatively dark story and writing in first person (which I usually don't like), I would love to hear your thoughts on this oneshot