By sharing a room with Haruka, Michiru had a more apt idea of where and when the blond decided to leave and today was not different. The storm had kept all raiders, at least those not already outside and trapped in it, within the prison walls and the two senshi were no exception to this rule. Haruka and Michiru spent the three days making sure the prison was in decent shape and taking inventory of what was needed for the next round of raids set to take place soon after the last flake hit the ground. While Michiru was scarcely done with a cup of tea, Haruka, the essence of the wind, was pacing, ready to get out and feel fresh air on her face. It didn't take the teal haired woman long to realize her partner had decided a walk, maybe even a run, was needed and she was gone.
Haruka had probably been gone only a few minutes and Michiru was following in the blond's steps, keeping a look out for golden locks and a set of intriguing, deep teal eyes. So far, in her search, she'd come up empty handed and the Sea Senshi stopped briefly beneath a tree, arms folded upon her chest, and fingers to her chin in thought. Haruka couldn't have been gone that long, could she? She was around here; Michiru could feel it, sense it from the way the wind picked up around her, sea green strands sweeping over her shoulders, briefly shielding her face from view before settling again. Yes, Haruka was capable of taking care of herself, but Michiru didn't like the idea of zombies having any chance, whatsoever, to sink their teeth into her lover. No. If they took Haruka, they'd take Michiru too. One always begot the other and there was no way to avoid it.
The grumbling and moaning pulled Michiru from her pondering and she glanced up, oceanic eyes landing on the abandoned building not far from her place beneath the sketchy, skinny tree. While she still wanted to find Haruka more than anything, she knew she couldn't leave the undead to possibly roam and kill others when she could have prevented it. A senshi's job was to protect the innocent, no matter the cost themselves or their fellow warriors. Raising her pen, she transformed and hurried into the building, blinking against the sudden darkness around her. Grimy, cold hands touched her shoulders and Michiru spun, raising her mirror and instantly taking out the groaning, stumbling creature behind her. In the brief illumination of the attack, she caught a glimpse of familiar blond hair and the shimmering silver sword her partner wielded to perfection. "Uranus?"