Rising Darkness

By Sillabub

Chapter Twelve - Regret

“. . . What good are our best interests if she’s dead? We may be our own 
people, but our duty is to protect her. We’re no good for anything else.” 
-Hino Rei

*****

“This is bullshit,” growled Haruka, slamming her glass down on the table.

Michiru looked up sharply. “Haruka!”

Everyone watched as Haruka stood from the table and began to pace around 
the room. “I can’t help it. This is driving me crazy.”

The senshi were gathered in Rei’s living room, some seated around the table 
in the middle of the room, others sitting in chairs that were scattered about 
the area. Hotaru and Chibi-Usa were huddled together on the floor, both pale 
and unusually quiet, while the older soldiers watched Haruka cautiously as she 
continued her angry pacing. Only Mamoru and Usagi were absent from the group; 
they were visiting Usagi’s parents, and while the senshi were wary of a possible 
attack on Usagi, the shrine was close enough so that they could get to the 
Tsukino residence quickly should an attack arise. Even so, the tension in the 
room was thick enough to cut with a knife, and a smothering sort of uneasiness 
hung in the air as Haruka stormed around the room.

Yaten watched the tall blonde pass with narrowed eyes. “Calm down,” he said coolly. 
“Now isn’t the time to lose your head.”

Haruka ignored him, stopping at the window to look out at the quiet city. “It’s 
been one week,” she mumbled, clenching her fists. “One damned week without a 
single thing happening.”

“Would you rather another attack?” Seiya asked, raising an eyebrow from his place 
between Kakyuu and Taiki.

Haruka turned her head slightly to send a glare at him over her shoulder. 
“Anything’s better than waiting.”

“But Haruka-san,” said Ami, removing her glasses so she could peer up at the tall 
blonde. “Even if there was an attack, we can’t fight without our powers.”

“Does that even matter anymore?” retorted Haruka, turning her glare upon the blue-
haired genius. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m going crazy worrying and 
waiting like this.”

Ami sat back, biting her lip and looking away. The others were silent as Haruka 
began to storm around again, and none of them seemed to know what to say to calm 
her down. They were uncomfortable watching someone as indifferent as Haruka behave 
so angrily, so they were all quite thankful when Michiru finally spoke up, her 
blue eyes clouded. “Don’t be reckless, Haruka,” she said quietly. “We have to be 
calm and wait.”

“Why? What’s the use of waiting like this when we could be out there fighting?” 
Haruka spun around and furiously punched the wall, leaving behind a dent, which 
Rei noted with a sigh.

“Haruka-san, stop destroying my home.”

The tall blonde stopped, exhaling loudly and letting her shoulders slump. “Sorry,” 
she muttered angrily, her fists clenched tightly. “I just hate this.”

“We all do,” said Setsuna. “But we cannot go looking for a fight without any powers 
to fight with. We have to focus what’s left of our lives on keeping our Princess 
safe.”

“Especially now that Usagi-san’s pregnant,” whispered Hotaru, looking away, “she needs 
our protection even more.”

Haruka sighed in resignation, plopping down beside Michiru. “You’re right,” she mumbled, 
leaning forward and putting her head in her hands.

Michiru reached out a gentle hand to rub the spot between Haruka’s shoulder blades. 
“Don’t worry so much. We’ll find a way to get through this. We always do.” Haruka 
nodded, and Michiru looked at her for a long moment before turning her gaze on the 
other soldiers. “I still can’t believe it,” she said with a small smile. “Our 
Princess is going to be a mother.”

“But she kept it from us,” said Hotaru softly, her forehead creased in worry. “That’s 
what surprises me the most.”

“Yes, but from what Rei-san has said, Usagi-san had her reasons,” Kakyuu spoke up 
softly. “Right, Rei-san?”

Rei, who told everyone of her discussion with Usagi earlier that week, shrugged. “Yeah, 
Usagi had her reasons. At least, she thought she did,” she replied, brow furrowed. 
“But she should have told us anyway.”

Makoto nodded, crossing her arms. “I agree. Keeping something as important as her own 
pregnancy a secret ended up putting her in more danger than telling us would have.”

“But Usagi-chan only had our best interests in mind . . .” started Ami, looking nervous.

“Sure, she did,” said Rei, “but what good are our best interests if she’s dead? We may 
be our own people, but our duty is to protect her. We’re no good for anything else.”

Everyone grew silent, staring at Rei, who calmly stirred a spoon through her tea.

“You’re right,” said Makoto quietly, eyes downcast. “But even though Usagi-chan has 
always put friendship before duty, friendship is partially about trust. I guess she 
didn’t trust us enough to tell us about her pregnancy.”

“That’s not true,” replied Luna, shaking her head. “She trusts us, but she just wants 
everyone to be safe.”

Setsuna nodded. “Yes,” she commented. “But she’s going to be a mother now. That alone 
is too great a responsibility to carry out alone without telling anyone else.”

“It’s not like no one would have found out about her being pregnant, though,” said 
Seiya jokingly. “After a few more months, it would have been impossible for her to 
keep it a secret.”

That comment brought a few smiles from the solemn-faced group as they imagined a 
round-stomached Usagi. “Yeah, but still,” said Rei. “What if something had gone 
wrong during one of the attacks and she was hurt or lost the baby?”

Everyone grew silent.

After a few moments of silence, Ami swallowed hard and said softly, “Rei-chan, 
let’s not talk about things like that.”

“I think it’s wise to discuss it,” said Taiki. “We have to consider every option, 
even if we don’t like talking about it. Worst case scenarios are always possible, 
after all.”

The others sat in silence for a long moment until Minako, who had been very quiet 
up to that point, pushed back her chair and stood from the table, drawing curious 
looks from the group of soldiers. “I have to go.”

“Minako-chan,” started Makoto, looking up at her in surprise.

The blonde turned and smiled weakly at the group. “I just forgot . . . I have 
something to do.”

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” asked Artemis in concern.

“Hmm? Oh! No, no,” Minako replied, waving a hand. “Just, uh, enjoy yourselves, 
don’t worry about me.” She was pulling on her jacket as she spoke, and her voice 
sounded cheerful, but in a very forced way. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Everything’s 
fine . . . I’m just being ditzy Minako. Nothing unusual, right?”

The group stared after her as she ran her hands through her hair briefly, then 
turned and flashed a too-bright smile over her shoulder and waved cheerfully. 
“I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

And she was gone, the door closing behind her. Seiya glanced quickly at Yaten, 
who was staring at the door with a strange look in his eyes, but then Yaten 
noticed his gaze and looked away.

“What’s gotten into her lately?” asked Haruka, frowning.

No one noticed Ami and Artemis exchange worried glances.

*****

Tsukino Ikuko loved her children more than anything.

As a mother, she was expected to do absolutely anything to keep her offspring 
healthy and happy, and throughout the entirety of Usagi’s and Shingo’s lives 
she had done just that. Not because it was expected of her, however, but because 
she loved her children and genuinely wanted to keep them happy. Every mess they 
had made as toddlers that she cleaned up, every birthday party she had elaborately 
planned as they grew older, and every snack she had prepared for Usagi that was 
later gobbled down within seconds, every single thing she had done was out of love 
for her children. Perhaps it was that love that gave her an insight, maybe even a 
sixth sense, when it came to the happiness of her children because somehow, she 
always knew when either was unhappy.

And at that moment in the comfort of her living room, Ikuko watched her eldest 
child and knew something was amiss. True, Usagi was smiling as she and Mamoru 
talked to Shingo and Kenji, but Ikuko knew by the paleness of her cheeks and the 
glassiness of her eyes that something was wrong with her daughter.

“If you ask me,” Kenji was saying pleasantly, “I think it’s about time you two 
thought about saving up for a house.”

“You think so?” asked Mamoru, blinking at his father in-law.

“Well, sure,” said Kenji. “The apartment’s alright since you’re just starting out, 
but soon you’ll be having children and will want a bigger place, right?”

Usagi looked sharply up as Mamoru let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, Kenji-san, we have 
plenty of time to plan that out,” he replied quickly. “We’re not having kids any time 
soon.”

It looked as if Usagi tried to hide her dismay at his words, but still her eyes widened 
ever so slightly and her skin grew a little bit paler. Ikuko watched Usagi’s reaction 
for just a few seconds before looking at her son in-law and asking, “Why not? Surely 
you want children.”

“Sure, but I hardly think we’re ready for kids yet,” said Mamoru. “I’m just starting 
out at the hospital, and we’re a little too young to be parents if you ask me.”

“Thank God,” said Shingo, leaning back onto the couch. “Producing offspring implies 
you’ve had sex, and I like to think you don’t do that kind of thing.”

Mamoru and Usagi both blushed as Kenji scowled. “Shingo!”

Ikuko pinched one of her son’s ears, and Shingo yelped. “You’ll do well not to talk 
about such things, young man,” she reprimanded. “Otherwise you’re going to get a 5:00 
PM curfew and no allowance!”

“Sorry, sorry,” said Shingo, waving her off. “Sheesh.”

Ikuko glared at him for a second longer before turning and smiling pleasantly at Mamoru. 
“Well, Usagi-chan’s twenty-two years old now,” she said, glancing from Mamoru to Usagi 
and back again, gauging their reactions to her words. “I was only twenty-three when I 
had her. I don’t think you’re too young.”

Usagi smiled at her mother as Mamoru nodded. “You’re right,” he said amiably, and he 
put his arm around Usagi, hugging her against him. “I guess Usako and I haven’t really 
talked about it.” He looked down at his wife and winked. “What do you say?” he asked 
jokingly. “Ready to pop one out?”

Usagi’s face reddened, and she let out a scandalized squeal. “Mamo-chan, stop!”

Ikuko watched as the couple laughed, but she saw the sadness and doubt in Usagi’s eyes 
and the way in which Usagi kept a protective hand over her own stomach, and it took a 
matter of seconds before she realized her daughter’s situation. Before she could think 
about it further, however, a loud beeping sound came from the kitchen, signaling that 
the dinner Ikuko had prepared was done cooking.

“Supper’s ready!” Ikuko said cheerfully, rising from the couch. “Usagi-chan, will you 
help me?”

Usagi blinked up at her mother, wide blue eyes slightly fearful at first, then she 
smiled readily. “Sure!” she said, forcing herself to sound happy as she stood to join 
Ikuko.

Shingo yawned and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “We men will stay in here 
while you women prepare the food,” he said with a smirk as he watched his mother and 
sister.

Ikuko scowled at him. “No dessert for you,” she said flatly.

His eyes popped open. “Mom!”

Ikuko and Usagi shared a giggle as they walked to the kitchen, ignoring the sounds of 
Shingo’s protests and Kenji and Mamoru’s chuckles. The amusement they shared was short-
lived, and by the time they reached the kitchen, a heavy silence had replaced it.

Usagi was watching her mother nervously, but Ikuko only smiled sweetly at her. “Usagi-chan, 
would you mind getting the plates?” she asked.

Her daughter nodded, exhaling as she did so as if she was somehow relieved. As Ikuko 
grabbed a potholder to remove the dinner from the oven, she glanced at Usagi from the 
corner of her eye, shrewdly observing the young woman. Usagi moved carefully and a bit 
nervously as she set the table, looking very much as if she was scared to make a wrong 
move. She seemed weak as she moved, and while Usagi had always been pale, her skin had 
never been so white and sickly looking as it was now. Then there were her eyes. Those 
eyes that Ikuko had first fallen in love with twenty-two years ago when a newborn Usagi 
opened them for the first time, those eyes that as Usagi grew up were always so full of 
hope and laughter . . . those eyes were now dull and uncertain, which made Ikuko’s heart 
break to look at them.

Ikuko waited until Usagi finished setting the table and moved to her side to speak. 
“Mamoru-san doesn’t know, does he?” she asked softly.

Usagi froze, looking terrified. She slowly looked at her mother, who was staring at her 
not with disapproval or shame but with gentle concern. A fist tightened over her still-
flat stomach as Usagi replied shakily, “No.”

Her mother watched her carefully. “You should tell him, Usagi-chan,” she said softly.

Usagi’s knees wobbled, and she held onto the counter to remain standing. “It’s . . . it’s 
complicated,” she said softly, not looking at Ikuko. “We have so much to deal with right 
now . . .”

“But a child, Usagi-chan,” said Ikuko, smiling warmly. “That’s so miraculous! You should be 
celebrating your pregnancy, not hiding it.”

Blue eyes grew glassy with her words, and Usagi shook her head. “Mama, I don’t know what to 
do,” she admitted softly. “You heard Mamo-chan. He doesn’t think we’re ready.”

“That’s for both of you to decide,” said Ikuko gently, walking to Usagi’s side and taking 
her by the shoulders. Usagi looked up into her mother’s smiling face. “When you two got 
married, you made a promise to live as one, sharing problems and decisions as you go through 
life,” she said softly. “Don’t you want to honor that promise?”

Usagi looked troubled, but she didn’t reply. Ikuko squeezed the blonde’s shoulders 
encouragingly.

“No matter what you’re going through,” she said, and her words were filled with such 
significance that for a moment Usagi forgot that Ikuko didn’t know about her secret 
life as a senshi. “No matter what you’re facing, no matter how terrible things may seem, 
honesty is the most important thing.”

Usagi hesitated, looking, for a brief moment, hopeful. “You think so?” she breathed.

Ikuko nodded. “You’ve always been a determined little girl, Usagi-chan,” she said fondly. 
“If you make a decision to keep your child safe and raise it healthily, no matter what you 
and Mamoru-san are going through, that’s what you’ll do.”

Usagi’s eyes were glassy again, but this time they were filled with hope. “Is my will that 
strong?” she asked softly.

“It always has been,” said Ikuko with a smile.

A moment of silence passed before Usagi smiled a real, genuine smile that reached her eyes 
and lit them up, and suddenly Ikuko found herself being hugged tightly by her daughter.

“Thank you, Mama,” she said happily.

Ikuko hugged her back gently. “So are you going to tell him?” she asked.

Usagi broke away from the hug, looking up at her mother with a smile. “Soon,” she said. “I’ll 
tell him soon.”

Ikuko looked satisfied and, beaming at her daughter, turned to the living room. “Supper’s 
ready!” she called.

As Mamoru, Kenji, and Shingo made their way to the kitchen, Ikuko watched her daughter again. 
Usagi’s smile was genuine, and as the group served their food Ikuko heard Usagi’s laugh ring 
out several times. And her eyes. Usagi’s eyes were full of hope and laughter again.

Ikuko let out a happy sigh as she sat down beside Kenji. She couldn’t wait to be a grandmother.

*****

Later, at the Lights’ apartment, Seiya frowned disapprovingly at Yaten. “Explain something to 
me.”

Yaten looked up testily; he had been very grumpy ever since Minako had run out on the meeting 
earlier. “I’ll try, but I don’t think I know enough small words.”

Seiya scowled. “Shut up, Yaten,” he said. “Just because you’re angry or confused or whatever 
doesn’t mean you can take it out on me.”

“Fine,” said Yaten, crossing his arms. “What is it?”

“Why didn’t you go after Minako-chan earlier?”

Yaten raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t YOU go after her?”

“Because you’re the one who needs to go after her, not me!”

Yaten sighed, shaking his head. “This again.”

“Yes, this again,” said Seiya, frowning at his friend. “Well, don’t you care about her?”

“Of course, I do,” replied Yaten, looking annoyed. “But she obviously needs to be alone right 
now.”

“Yeah?” Seiya said, narrowing his eyes. “What happened last time Minako-chan ran off to be 
alone?”

Pale green eyes closed briefly. “Hecate attacked her,” said Yaten, his voice softer.

“Exactly.” The black-haired Light pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow at him. “So, what 
should you do?”

Yaten turned to look at Seiya, watching him carefully. “I know you want me to say I should 
go after her,” he replied. “But I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“But you already said you care about Minako-chan.”

“That’s exactly why I’m leaving her alone.”

“That doesn’t make sense, you ass! Going after her makes sense!”

Yaten opened his mouth to reply, then frowned suspiciously. “Why are you pushing this, Seiya? 
Do you have a bet going on or something?”

Seiya’s eyes widened, and he yelled, “No!” He clenched his fists in frustration, then stopped, 
sighing and unclenching his fists. “Yaten, you and Taiki are my best friends. I just want you 
to be happy.”

Yaten narrowed his eyes. “I . . . am . . . happy,” he said, slowly and carefully.

“No, Yaten, you’re not.”

Yaten’s hands tightened into fists, and he turned abruptly away. “I don’t need to listen to 
this,” he said, heading toward the door. The next words from Seiya’s lips stopped him in his 
tracks.

“I know something happened between you and Minako-chan when we were on Earth before.”

Yaten’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn to look at Seiya. “What are you talking about?” 
he asked quietly.

“I’m not sure, exactly,” Seiya said, moving forward, “But I think it has something to do with 
how she’s acting now.”

The silver-haired Light remained unmoving. “What makes you say that?”

“Um, gee, maybe because she’s been acting different ever since we came back, and she gets upset 
easily around you? Don’t think no one’s noticed the tension between you two.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yaten said emotionlessly, his back still facing Seiya.

“Ami-chan seems to,” said Seiya, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you should ask her about it.”

A tremor passed through Yaten’s body then, but he stood his ground. “I don’t know what you’re 
talking about,” he repeated.

“Like hell, you don’t!” shouted Seiya suddenly. “Yaten, you can’t . . .”

Yaten suddenly whirled to face him. “BUTT OUT!”

Seiya stepped back. “What?”

Yaten’s eyes were mere slits of pale green as he scowled at Seiya. “I don’t know why you keep 
trying to figure me out and control my life, but I don’t need your help,” he said acidly, his 
hands tightening into fists. “So stop interfering!”

Seiya stared after him, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to think of something to say. 
But he didn’t have to because at that moment, Yaten scowled at him, grabbed his coat, and left 
the room, slamming the door behind him. Seiya stared at the closed door for a few seconds, eyes 
wide as he heard the sound of his companion stomping down the stairs and opening the outside door, 
then Seiya ran to the window and flung it open.

“YATEN KOU!” he bellowed into the cold air.

The silver-haired Light looked up at the window from the sidewalk. “What?” he asked, looking 
very agitated.

Seiya’s fists tightened on the windowpane as he leaned out and shouted, “I was just trying to 
help, you know!”

Yaten looked up at him, his expression unreadable. Then, after several moments, he said, in a 
voice that was hard for Seiya to hear from the window, “I know. And thank you for caring.”

Blue eyes widened in amazement. “How’s that?”

“You heard me, I’m not repeating myself!” called Yaten, narrowing his eyes and turning away. “Now 
leave me alone.”

“Um . . . okay.” Seiya watched as Yaten shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk down 
the sidewalk. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Yaten spun around to glare up at him. “None of your business!” he shouted back.

Seiya stared out the window for a moment, then his face broke into a wide grin. “You’re gonna go 
find Minako-chan, aren’t you?”

“NO!” Yaten yelled back at him. Scowling and ignoring an elderly couple who passed by him and 
gave him strange looks, he shouted, “Now leave me the hell alone and stop being so controlling!”

The old woman patted Yaten’s shoulder as she walked by. “It’s okay, dear, some boyfriends are 
like that.”

“WHAT?”

Seiya would have laughed at the look on Yaten’s face, but he was way too frustrated at the smallest 
Light’s inability to cooperate to let out even the tiniest chuckle. In fact, by that point, Seiya 
didn’t care if Yaten remained celibate the rest of his life.

“Jackass,” he muttered. “See if I try to help you out again.” Sick of all of his efforts being shot 
down by the ungrateful little jerk, Seiya slammed the window shut, blocking out the sound of Yaten 
bellowing angrily after the old woman.

A little while later, Yaten was walking slowly down the street, sighing a cloud of mist into the air. 
The temperature was dropping steadily with the setting sun, and there were dark clouds rolling in, 
hinting at snow. He frowned a little at the clouds and increased his pace, slipping his hands into 
his pockets to keep warm. Yaten felt uneasy and confused, almost like there was some vital piece of 
information in the back of his mind that he could not reach. Something was wrong with Minako, and 
he had to find out what it was. That much was certain, but what was wrong with her? Seiya’s words 
from earlier echoed in his head, making his brow furrow, and Yaten stopped walking. He looked around 
for a moment, looking lost, but then he spotted a phone booth.

Barely conscious of his actions, Yaten walked to the phone booth, slid his phone card through the 
slot, put the receiver against his ear, and dialed a number.

“Hey, Mizuno-san? It’s Yaten. . . . Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

*****

Ami looked up as a knock came from the office door. She removed her glasses, rubbed her eyes 
tiredly, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Sighing as she noted the time, Ami put the 
complicated-looking diagrams she and Taiki had been working on in a drawer, stood from her 
chair, and moved to open the door.

“Hello, Yaten-kun,” she said, opening the door and smiling at the young man who stood in the 
hallway. “Come in.”

Yaten nodded briefly at her as he entered the room. Ami noticed the lost look in his eyes 
and immediately felt uneasy, but she forced a smile on her face as she closed the door and 
turned to him.

“How may I help you?”

Pale green eyes looked up at her, and Yaten swallowed hard. “You can tell me what’s wrong 
with Minako.”

Ami’s eyes widened, her smile disappearing. “What?”

Yaten stared at her, his serious expression laced with anxiety. “I know you know something. 
Just tell me what it is.”

A troubled look came over Ami’s face as she shook her head. “Please, Yaten-kun, don’t ask 
me,” she said quietly, avoiding eye contact with him. “I know no more than anyone else.”

“Don’t lie, Ami-chan,” he said, stepping toward her. “You know what’s wrong.”

Slender hands quivered at her sides as Ami took a step back. “Yaten-kun, I can’t . . .”

“Yes, you can!” he shouted, his eyes suddenly burning and desperate. Ami stumbled back, knocking 
into her desk as he rounded on her. Noticing Ami’s alarm, Yaten’s expression softened, and his 
tense muscles relaxed. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking away guiltily. “I just need to know 
what’s going on.”

Ami was shaking her head, her eyes wide. “It’s not my place to tell you, Yaten-kun.”

He frowned. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” he muttered, running a hand through his 
hair. “But I don’t need to hear it from you, Ami-chan. I know you can help me.”

When she didn’t reply, he added, softly, “I only want to know what’s wrong with Minako so I 
can help her.”

“Are you sure?” Ami whispered, staring at him.

He blinked. “Huh?

Ami’s blue gaze was steady and penetrating as she focused on him. “Are you sure you want to 
know the truth?”

For no reason that Yaten could think of, he suddenly felt his throat tighten. Unable to 
speak, he nodded.

The slender woman stared at him for a long moment, her expression clouded as Yaten watched 
her, waiting for a reply of some sort. Then, as if making a decision, Ami sighed heavily 
and turned around to face her desk. He watched as she pulled open a drawer, flipped through 
a few different folders, then removed a gray folder full of papers and plopped it on the 
desk.

Yaten stared at it, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that?”

Ami’s expression was grave as she crossed her arms and replied, “Minako-chan’s medical records.”

Yaten blinked, then shook his head dazedly. “I don’t understand,” he said, and his voice 
sounded strange, as if he wasn’t breathing.

Ami watched him seriously for a moment before replying, “If you don’t, you will soon enough.” 
Then, as Yaten looked on, she stood from her desk and grabbed her coat off the back of her 
chair. “The answer you’re looking for is in that folder, Yaten-kun,” she said, pulling her 
coat on and glancing at the clock. “But please, regardless of what you find out, don’t blame 
Minako-chan for anything. She’s having a hard enough time as it is.”

Yaten swallowed hard as he looked at the folder lying on the desk. He was dimly aware of Ami 
saying goodbye and telling him to lock the door on his way out, but it was only after a few 
minutes passed by in silence that he realized he was alone in the room. Slowly, numbly, he 
swallowed and reached for the folder.

*****

End Chapter Twelve