Yaten was with Minako after it was all over. He probably should have been with Seiya and Kakyuu and Taiki, in fact he knew he should have been. But when the battle was over, he'd found himself with Minako and was unwilling or unable to leave her. He couldn't walk away knowing that she had been the one to die for him. That she had been willing to make the sacrifice at all was noble. That she had done it for him was frightening, and he stayed with her to alleviate that fear and to soothe some of her own.
They were sitting on a park bench. Well, he was sitting. She was curled up in his lap, her head buried in his chest. Her face and his shirt were soaked with her tears, and when he looked down, he could see that she had the bleary, distant look of someone who had allowed themselves to cry until they were spent. She hadn't stopped for appearances or because he asked her to. She stopped when she was ready, and that was something a lot of people couldn't do. It was how Yaten cried, on the rare occasion when he allowed himself to.
He was holding her already, but the way she burrowed herself closer made him close his arms around her even tighter. He hoped that he was making her feel safe, like she was the one being protected for once.
"It's not dark there," she whispered hoarsely.
"Not dark where?" Yaten asked, moving his hand on the back of her head in a gesture that was strange considering her wasn't accustomed to offering comfort.
"When you're dead."
Yaten felt his stomach lurch and his eyes close involuntarily. He didn't want to think about what it was like when for the people who died. He didn't want to think about constant darkness or walking towards the light or any of the other cliches he had been subjected to hearing throughout the years. He certainly didn't want to hear it from a person who had actually seen it.
(And deep down, he didn't want to be reminded that she remembered what had happened and how much that hurt him, though he didn't want to think about that.)
"Don't talk about that," Yaten instructed.
"It's all right," Minako said, clearly lying because, after all, she was the one who had crawled into his lap upon suddenly becoming hysterical, wasn't she? "I've been dead before this."
Yaten swallowed. "Minako, please--"
"I pushed Usagi out of the way then," Minako continued, almost as if she didn't hear him. Yaten was afraid that maybe she didn't. "I pushed her out of the way and they pulled me underground and... it hurt so much that time. It seemed to take forever. At least this time it was quick." She laughed, and he thought she sounded a bit wrong in the head. "I've never even died for myself. Don't you think that's funny?"
"No," Yaten responded, beginning to feel ill. He held on to Minako's arms, flinching at how cold they felt for someone who had been gleaning off his body heat. "Minako, listen to me. It's over. You don't have to think about that now."
“But I wanted you to know,” Minako said, almost sounding coherent. “I wanted you to know that it isn’t dark there. So your light won’t stop shining.”
Yaten winced, remembering when she had spoken about how she thought they shined brighter than anyone. That stupid idol contest when he’d lost his temper. Then again, he’d also saved her life. He supposed she’d just returned the favor that day. Of course, he hadn’t given up nearly as much.
“Isn’t that what you’re afraid of?” Minako asked, looking up at him. He was unsettled to find that she wasn’t crying. “Of your light going out and everything going dark? Aren’t you afraid of the dark?”
Yaten shut his eyes, suddenly wanting to banish her face from his mind. “Minako, please--"
“I was scared it would be dark,” Minako babbled. “The first time. I wish someone had told me that it wasn’t because I felt better when I saw that it wasn’t dark there. And we’re the same way. We like to be seen, so I thought you’d want to know.”
“I don’t want to know about death at all,” Yaten said, his tone harsher than he intended.
“I’ll be able to see you there someday,” Minako said.
Yaten shuddered. “Shut up.”
“That’s how bright it is there.” He could feel Minako nodding, her bangs brushing against his face.
“Shut up,” Yaten repeated, his voice getting louder.
“Aren’t you glad that I told you that?” Minako asked. “Aren’t you glad you can still see after you’re dead?”
Yaten screwed up his face, his eyes flying open. “God damn it, would you just shut up!”
He was either afraid that she would keep talking or he needed something to circumvent his anger after her babbling. He wasn’t sure which prompted him to move his face forward the extra inch and kiss her. She tasted like tears and desperation, and it only made him kiss her harder (because he’d thought of doing this before and he’d thought that perhaps he’d be able to taste light if he did that, but he couldn’t then, not after she’d been rambling about death and how it wasn’t dark). He probably shouldn’t have, in fact, he knew he shouldn’t have, but she kissed him back just the same.
When they parted some time later, Minako looked less bleary-eyed, as if he’d actually calmed her down. Still, she seemed saddened by something.
“I wish you’d done that before so I could believe it,” she said sadly.
He’d wanted to kiss her again then, but he didn’t that time. He just leaned back, letting her lay her head on his chest again. He didn’t know how she managed to cry more, but she did. They didn’t move for a very long time, not leaving the park until long after dark.
(Later, when Yaten was in the shower, he cried like he always cried though he couldn’t say if it was for her sake or because of his own stupidity for waiting too long.)
