[FFXIII-2] Anonymous (Part4c) 10634words

[shamera]

Title: Anonymous
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII-2
Character/Pairing(s): ...Hope and IT'S A SECRET
Rating: PG
Warning: Wordy. I just rewrote Hope's life, part the third.
Summary: Hope's got a secret admirer who only leaves presents on Valentine's Day.

“Here!”

Hope ran.

There were the distant sounds of howling behind him, and the gnashing of teeth along with claws in soft dirt, creating a cacophony to accompany the drumbeat of his heart as he pushed himself to go faster and watched out of the corner of his eye as two of the Gorgonopsids snapped at him from the side, and a third tried to catch up to his head start. He waited carefully until one of the monsters leapt at him, maw open for the chance to take a bite straight out of his side.

He ducked then, dropping to a roll over the dirt thanks to the momentum of his earlier run, and watched as the creature jumped straight over him. The only worry now was the one who had been originally been chasing him from behind, and—

Noel was on the monster behind him within the blink of an eye, swords out at the ready and attacking before Hope could even register his next movement.

The third Gorgonopsid yelped and tried to slow its running as well in order to catch its downed prey, but that was when it was hit hard on the back of the head by Hope’s boomerang, having been thrown before he started running so that it would come around to the exact spot where he and Noel had planned to lure the group.

It was by that time Noel already finished off the monster he was fighting, and turned to start taking down the stunned creature while Hope scrambled to his feet and caught his weapon again, bracing himself just as the first creature who had jumped over him before turned and charged at him yet again.

Had he been fourteen, Hope might have just accepted the attack while planning his next move. Back then he had been entirely on the offensive, and had cared little for his own health during a fight, trusting in his own healing capabilities or the abilities of Lightning or Vanille after the fight. He would have stood still and taken the attack then, more concentrated on casting offensive magic.

But not now.

Hope jumped back, bringing up his boomerang as a shield for claws that came a little too close to his person in that encounter. Back then, thanks to his l’Cie abilities, he would have easily been able to take that kind of hit, but now he was far more cautious.

“Watch out for their poison!” Hope called out as he watched the enemy pause in its attack, rearing up its head for an imminent change of tactics. As predicted, the Gorgonopsid opened its jaw to release a noxious breath of toxins, prompting Hope to back up rapidly in order to avoid the slow travelling gas.

Once he was out of range, Hope drew back and threw his boomerang, the weapon seemingly lighter now that he was older and stronger, and watched as it took the still huffing monster by surprise, only to aim itself at the creature that Noel was fighting as well. The second monster staggered under the combined assault, and the hunter wasted no time in finally taking it out before the boomerang even returned to Hope’s hands.

By now the one which had attacked Hope had given up on that target and turned its attention to Noel, growling menacingly before it jumped toward the hunter. Hope took advantage of the monster’s shifted focus to throw his weapon again, clenching his fist and pulling his arm down to direct the sensors in his glove which shifted the weight of the boomerang so that it would return to the same target again and again rather than search out new ones, whacking the creature multiple times over its skull even as Noel spun his swords and quickly finished that last monster off.

“Why haven’t we done this before today?” Noel demanded lightly once the last Gorgonopsid was down, sinking his great sword heavily into the earth and wiping his forehead with one hand. His eyes were bright and his smile eager. “This was a good idea.”

Hope smiled in return and then shifted to look up at the sky, raising a gloved hand to block the light best he could. The day had grown considerably, and from the sun’s position in the sky… “We have to head back soon.”

He had two meetings later on in the day and a deadline that evening. The day’s outing would make everything more… rushed, but it was worth it.

It had been nearly a week, and Snow and Serah had yet to return.

Noel had started behaving— strangely, the day after the attempted assassination passed. The younger man kept asking questions about what Hope remembered of the failed assassination, about his years in the Academy and about the members of Team Alpha. It was odd being the center of such scrutiny, but as the days passed Hope slowly got used to it.

What he was still acclimating himself to, however, was Noel’s insistence that he not spend every hour of every day working in the offices or laboratories, claiming that he needed at least an hour a day of Hope’s time whether it was to actually walk around Academia (and what a strange thing to now know the names of people in several shops) or take up a hobby that had nothing at all to do with his work.

Perhaps the most surprising of all was the hunger for books that Noel developed. The younger man wanted to know everything about everything, from movies and popular culture to the details of Hope’s work. He had even asked whether Gran Pulse or Cocoon had theme parks in the current era, which was something Hope hadn’t known about himself until he looked the information up.

That led to the promise that if Snow and Serah didn’t arrive back within the next month, then the two of them would take a day to attend New Nautilus.

Hope was fairly certain that the two other time travellers would be back before then.

It was far more relaxing than he originally thought. Hope originally dreaded the idea of spending time focused on things that weren’t important, yet the small outings and the conversations were… soothing.

(It reminded him a little bit of a time when he and his father would find time for breakfast together, and when Rygdea would call randomly and take up to an hour of Hope’s day just rambling on how terrible politics and policy making itself was.

He hadn’t even realised how he missed those days.)

“Sure.” Noel agreed readily, placated now that they had spent a good amount of time out under the sun. Hope could feel his exposed skin starting to itch already, having been under direct sunlight for nearly an hour now without any salve. He was sure that he would be a bright pink soon. “We could take this back with us.”

The hunter gestured down to the corpses of the Gorgonopsids, and Hope found himself shaking his head vehemently. It was one thing to take some time off from work on a daily basis, but he doubted people in Academia would welcome them walking back into the city with three bleeding animal carcasses trailing behind them.

“No.” Hope insisted. “You know there are already people coming to collect the meat, it wouldn’t go to waste— ”

“Yeah, but we’re the ones who earned the first cut.” Noel interrupted cheerfully, having already known that Hope would refuse. “So we can take this back with us, or we can stay out here a bit longer and I’ll make the both of us lunch.”

Hope hesitated. He remembered the last time he had game meat like that; freshly killed and then cooked. That had been well over ten years ago when Fang and Vanille had painstakingly taught the group how to survive in the wilderness of Gran Pulse. He hated the taste, but hunger had overwritten appetite and Hope hadn’t been dumb enough to refuse. Everyone needed the strength to continue then, no matter where that strength came from.

But even now, he wasn’t entirely fond of the taste. Could tolerate it, will accept it, but if given a choice, Hope would have stepped away from it.

He must have given the corpses quite the incredulous look, because Noel grinned at him in reassurance.

“It won’t take long,” the hunter insisted. “I’m good at this.”

There had to be some kind of magic at work, Hope thought just a little sullenly not half an hour later, because for some reason he always found himself giving into Noel. They had a fire going already, and the smell of blood and gristle near flames was stinging his nose. Half of Archylte would have smelled the kill soon while Noel was enthusiastically skinning the last Gorgonopsid with mostly his bare hands, using his knife only on parts that refused to rip off. It… almost reminded him of the way Vanille had no troubles with skinning animals either, instead only slowing down so she could explain the process to Hope with her bare fingers stained as she slid a knife easily in areas that came off with just the right push and pull.

Hope had been left to tend the fire, although that job included carving out prime pieces of meat and skewering it to roast as well, which wasn’t quite agreeable to his stomach, although he didn’t protest.

“I didn’t think you knew how to do this.” Noel commented with surprise as Hope knelt in the dirt to help separate meat from bone.

“I learned a long time ago.” Hope responded quietly, and the younger man fell silent as they worked, although his eyes wandered over to Hope’s movements more than once, gaze lingering for more than a few seconds at a time. It was messy work, and Noel was far more proficient at it than he was, although Hope managed to keep the blood from staining his clothes. His gloves were another matter entirely. “You’d be much better than me.”

Noel made a noise to indicate disagreement. “You either know or you don’t, and practice will make it easier, but… you don’t get much better than that.” He waved a hand toward Hope’s handiwork, and Hope found himself smiling at the compliment. He didn’t think that was true, especially since he had seen how Fang and Vanille worked at his, and could remember their swift, deft movements as opposed to his halting and clumsy slips, but it was a pleasing thought nevertheless.

“What about you?” Hope eased into the conversations, eyes never leaving his work. The faster they finished this, the faster they’d be heading back. It was nice to be outside, yes, but it felt like an invisible clock ticking right next to his ear at all times, reminding him that there was far too much to do for him to take long leisurely breaks like this. However, with each day that Noel inserted himself into Hope’s daily routines to push time for activities other than work and more research, Hope found it easier to breathe through the day. It was easier to smile now, easier to speak to people and actually ask about their day rather than force a smile and route the conversation into something productive. “Have you mastered the art of this?”

“Enough to make use of everything on the bone.” Noel’s response was quick and light-hearted, although the words were enough for Hope to catch a glimpse of a home that Noel might have come from, where every bit of food was to be used and not wasted. Perhaps it was due to a shortage of living things. “If you’re asking— yes, I can cook. No, I won’t accidentally be poisoning you today.”

Hope chuckled under his breath, raising a shoulder to try and push his bangs to the side with his arm. His skin was itching and tight already, but he didn’t mind too much. “Well, then, I’ll be counting on you. I’m afraid I might accidentally poison the both of us if we left this to me.”

He could cook, of course he could with the years of living alone, but that was with pre-packaged food that had already been processed if nothing else, where he could pick up all the ingredients for whatever dish he was making ahead of time and thus had it on hand. Hunting, and meals like this, baffled him slightly. To start from scratch without pre-mixed herbs and seasoning… well. Hope didn’t know which plants out here were poisonous and which weren’t. Gathering plants and fruits and mostly been a task Vanille assigned, when she would tell him what to pick and what could be eaten.

He wondered if she would enjoy being here now, under the harsh sunlight and elbow deep in animal guts preparing lunch as fresh as it gets. Actually, thinking about it, Hope knew that she would enjoy it. She’d probably be humming along as she worked, and teaching him how to be more proficient at the same time.

After so many years, the thought brought a nostalgic smile to his lips rather than pain.

He’d see her again. Of course he would.

“Okay, that’s creepy.” Noel’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and Hope looked up curiously to see an unnerved expression on the hunter’s face. “Don’t smile like that, Hope. Not when you’re covered in blood and deboning things.”

“I shouldn’t smile?” Hope asked innocently, still smiling.

“Yes. No.” Noel made a distressed noise. “Never mind. You know what, just—” He raised a hand to his face and groaned in embarrassment. “Ignore everything I’m saying. It must be too hot today.”

“It’s Spring.”

“It was really cold a few days ago,” Noel excused, “and really warm now.”

Hope chuckled, and let that slide. At least the hunter seemed to be in a better mood than he had been the past several days. He supposed it had to do with the girl that Noel mentioned who disappeared due to being a paradox.

(“Alyssa?” Hope shook his head slowly. “No. I don’t know anyone by that name.” There was an Elysse he had spoken to several times back when he had been forming Team Alpha, and an Alice who had been a night shift receptionist, but… he didn’t think that knowledge would quell what looked like a build of shock (and… panic?) from Noel.

The brunet stepped back, jaw tensing as bright blue eyes studied Hope. “...She was your assistant.”

Hope had quite a few of those. Brilliant people, all of them, most of whom moved on to other, and greater, projects on his recommendation. He had never been one to connect well to other people, and his assistants usually took the hint within a year and stopped… trying. He was certain he would have remembered an assistant named Alyssa, though. He remembered all their names still. The curious thing was how Noel would have known that, then. Hope was fairly certain he hadn’t spoken to the younger man regarding his co-workers.

In a move that startled him, Noel reached to grasp Hope’s shoulders, leaning to stare intently as he asked, “Who’s your assistant, then?”

Hope tensed, pulling back as his eyes widened. What was going on? “I— there was Karen Allano, and she moved on to the communications department. Stefan Milan, who left for the private sector. Dr. Karissa Jenkins signed on for two months before she moved back to Cocoon.” Who else, who else…? “Mercé Hastings came up with the plans for Augusta Tower, and he continued working there even after the funding was cut. Ernest Rouge and Leland Enn were both promoted after I left.”

He had originally been assigned an assistant when he first arrived in 400AF, but Hope had declined as politely as he could. The Academy would need all hands on deck to make the last leg of the journey, and he was certain he could acclimate himself to the era without getting in anyone’s way.

After all, he had— no. He had been alone. Why did he think there could have been someone else who would be in the same situation as him?

“And the assassin?” Noel insisted.

Hope shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The assassin yesterday. Who was it?” The hunter pressed.

“I—” Hope’s words felt caught in his throat, earlier tension all but forgotten as he registered how tightly Noel’s fingers were digging into his arms. He… he truly didn’t recall, and that thought was disconcerting. “I wouldn’t know. A paradox, correct? The person was gone by the time I turned around, so I never saw them.”)

“Do you actually carry herbs in your pocket?” Hope asked, surprised and a bit fondly exasperated. He should have expected that, really. He managed to clean off his gloves with some extra water he brought along, although it would need a more thorough cleaning once they got back. Clean or not, he could still smell the faint scent of blood and sinew on the leather.

They were sitting on a patch of grass chosen especially because it was downwind and led to a tight alcove which was clear of monsters so that the smell of cooking food wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. The bright and flickering flames warmed the area they sat in considerably until Hope felt he might actually be able to take his coat off in the spring air.

“You never know when you need them.” Noel told him with a grin, brandishing several small leather pouches of dried vegetation and such oddities that made Hope stare. “Sunleth was the most amazing place — I didn’t even know that many plants could exist in one place.”

“It’s very different.” Hope agreed, thinking back to Academia. The protected lands of Sunleth were a carefully cultivated paradise in Cocoon, very unlike the wilds of Gran Pulse where everything was allowed to run free and the cities people lived in which were more chrome and steel than anything else. Hope had a fondness for greenery, but he imagined that Noel saw more to it than he did when it came to nature.

Hope had grown up in cities, and stayed in cities, after all. He knew that Vanille and Fang felt more comfortable in natural landscapes, and while he could appreciate it, Hope was most comfortable surrounded by technology. Rygdea had commented before with a scrunched up face that it seemed like a lonely existence, but Hope didn’t really think so.

(Was it a lonely existence, though? He had always been alone, but from what Noel had told him about Alyssa Zaidelle, maybe he hadn’t been alone in the previous timeline. If she had been there the entire time, she must have been very important to him. He only wished he could remember her properly rather than feel nothing more than a vague sense of nostalgia and curiosity.)

“Should you be using the plants from Sunleth, though?” Hope asked. “They’re not all… edible.”

“Don’t worry,” Noel told him. “I’ve tested all of these before with Serah. We figured out what tastes good with food and what doesn’t.”

The image that conjured up was one that made Hope laugh quietly, wondering if there were days with the pair quarreling due to cooking styles and experiments gone wrong.

The herbs were rubbed over the meat which itself was wrapped in a large leaf before being tied off and hung over the fire from a makeshift spit that had been constructed within a three minute span which originally looked like a lot more work than it actually was.

“We do have to go back soon.” Hope warned him, eying the pouches of meat wearily. “I have several meetings which can not be postponed.” Most of which were superfluous, but there was one meeting with a Department Head regarding advances on an automated aeroponic system that Hope had been interested in ever since he learned of the new methods. Not to mention, there was the matter of his back-up research (for which he wasn’t entirely certain why he pressed so hard for a copy to be made so quickly, and when asked just how urgently he might need it, Hope had hesitantly amended that the matter wasn’t urgent at all) which finished copying today.

A very excited Bryne had informed him just that morning that the drive was made exactly to his specifications: small, hardy, easily carried around and mostly unnoticeable along with being sturdy and large enough to contain all his research along with the projects of several other researchers from his time. It had been made from scratch from a newly patented material the Academy was just getting their hands on, and the other scientist nearly had stars in his eyes telling him that.

“I promise this won’t take long.” Noel said, adjusting the level of the spit. “And we can eat on our way back, too, if it’s too late for you.”

“I thought you would just… cook it on a stick.” Hope admitted, feeling a little lame. That’s what he imaged this would end up as, another quick meal like the ones prepared so many years ago when he had been l’Cie and they hadn’t the time to stop in any one place for too long because they always need to move forward to the next thing, the next idea or clue as to what they were supposed to do. The meat then had been rather tough and the flavor strong enough to make him gag at times, but Vanille would do her best with what little time she had to make it more palatable.

“I would have, but you don’t seem the type to enjoy food like that.” Noel said with a shrug, huffing when he noticed Hope’s surprised glance. “Everything you eat is bland. No game meats, either. I figured it wouldn’t take too long to soften it up a bit.”

Hope stopped, thought about his words for a moment, and settled with, “...Thank you.”

“I said I’d cook for us.” The hunter said, this time with an upward quirk of his lips as he tended to the fire. “I won’t make you eat things you don’t like. And next time, if you don’t like something, just say it.”

Next time. The thought was a quiet and inconspicuous one, but it made Hope smile nevertheless. He wondered what his coworkers would think, with him taking as much time off his work as he dis today. They’d probably encourage it, but… The feeling was a strange one. Everyone he had spoken to was so encouraging, so glad he was safe, that Hope could barely comprehend it. He stepped out of one world into another which made little sense. Hope should be going back to his work soon, should decline the idea of a next time, and yet…

“How about we just stay inside next time?” He asked instead, amused, as he watched Noel work.

“Then you’d just work.” Noel protested, barely even glancing up. “And that’s fine, it’s probably better if you work somewhere more comfortable than that room— don’t you guys have chairs? But then you might just keep working and forget all about important things like food and sleep altogether.”

“It keeps us alert,” Hope agreed. It was harder to fall asleep on your feet than in chairs. Maybe Noel had a point, after all, if he was contemplating the points of how to keep awake longer at work when it came to chairs. “It improves posture and blood circulation.”

He had other excuses— most people working at the Academy didn’t have that much time to themselves, much less dedicated to superfluous exercise, so every bit counted while they worked. Pulling regular sixteen hour shifts was not easy.

“That’s—” Noel made a face and jabbed a finger in his direction. “I can tell by your expression that even you don’t believe what you’re saying. Stick to saving the world, Hope, and not finding excuses for other people.”

Hope chuckled, helpfully not mentioning that a good portion of his job was actually finding reasoning and excuses for other people. The fire was crackling merrily between them, a little too warm in the spring breeze, and the smell of slowly cooking meat and spices was finally starting to spread through the air.

“Alright,” he agreed, and drew up his legs to watch Noel cook as they both sat in the grass. “I won’t.”

—

He was nearly bowled over by Bryne the next day.

“Director Estheim—” the man gushed, “I mean, Advisor, umm—”

“Yes?” Hope answered calmly, pausing in his steps and seeing Noel do the same not five feet away, ever watchful. He smiled slightly in an attempt to placate the flustered man.

“The drive you asked for,” Bryne said, “the back-up, that is. It’s ready, and I had an idea that, well,” he flushed slightly and raised a tablet streaming with code and schematics, “I hope it’s not too forward of me, but I had an idea for the design of the drive that might it more portable— that is, harder to steal, as well!”

Hope assumed it would be a pendant shape, easy to wear. That would be a better idea than a flashdrive. From the way Bryne’s wide eyes were sparkling, he assumed that’s what the other man would suggest.

“Of course,” Hope said. “I trust your sense on this. What matters is the physical integrity and data stay secure. The rest I’ll leave up to your discretion."

As Byrne left with such enthusiasm that Hope wondered where the man got all his energy from, Noel chuckled behind him.

“I should start a tally,” he said, and Hope turned his attention to him.

“A tally?” He asked.

“For the number of people so awestruck they go speechless in your presence. Although that might take all my time. Maybe a tally for the number of people who don’t go speechless? From what I’ve seen so far, that number’s way smaller.”

Hope didn’t think anyone thought that much of his presence. He understood that there were those who viewed him as a scientific wonder, having proved the process of gravity-related time travel (which wasn’t really time travel at all). Most people likely viewed him strangely due to having grown up seeing his name in the history books. On this matter, he understood their hesitations. It would be strange for people not to react at all.

“I’m only a passing amusement,” Hope dismissed. He was something the people of Academia in the year 400 AF had never seen before, and their scientific minds likely worked to explain his presence despite understanding exactly how he got there, and he would also only be passing through if everything went according to plan.

It would take another hundred years before the new Cocoon would be up in the sky, and Hope planned to be there for that moment, whether it worked or failed. He would take full responsibility, and he would defend the project should it be attacked.

It was the least he could do after everyone else around him gave so much to save humanity.

Noel went quiet as Hope started walking again, mind already on his next destination. Thanks to the enactment of a recent law, the tariffs on mined phosphorescence from Bresha had more than doubled at a crucial point of developing artificial marshlands on New Cocoon, and its delayed seeding would cost other projects far too much time. Hope was not at the forefront of environmental development, but he did read through the project complaints and hoped to help them find a solution.

Along the way, he met several other independent researchers who asked him to keep their projects in mind, and Hope worked to update his work tablet as he organized and connected projects while walking. One in particular looked quite promising, but he had been warned that the treasury was not very fond of him recently…

Noel’s hand on his arm shifted him to the side as he narrowly missed walking into a doorway while he read, and they continued on their way.

Hope mentally tallied the increase needed to the budget should some of the independent projects be approved, rounding up the total with a frown. It seemed budgeting issues were never resolved no matter what century it was.

Noel sighed by his side, “This is why I keep saying you need a break.”

Hope didn’t look up from the reports, trusting Noel to help guide him where he needed to go. He didn’t protest that he had taken far more breaks in the past week than he had the past… handful of years, probably. That statement had already been broached, only for Noel to give him a worried look.

“I’ll take a long vacation when this is over,” Hope lied, brows pinched as he flagged another project that seemed to be siphoning more funds than what they presented on their report. He twirled the stylus between his fingers for a moment in thought, and then marked several points before saving his notes.

Once the project was finished, should everything go according to plan, then it was true that Hope would have very little to do… except for keeping on top of everything that might go wrong in the next several years.

(After all, merely completing a project did not mean the work was over.)

It was understandable for the workload to pile up as a project drew to its conclusion. Not only were people rushing to meet deadlines, there were tests to redo and simulations to rerun, with complexities that grew with each project added to the mix. Hope himself was not in charge of any of the projects anymore, and felt that he was in a strange blank space where he was both not responsible for any single department, while also responsible for all of them. He would have felt like he was overstepping if not for the fact that if he did not go to take a look at each department for himself, then they would come to him.

And he would rather they use their time on their work.

“What did you normally do to relax before you became the big bad Director Estheim?” Noel joked, hand still on Hope’s elbow.

“The same as everyone else, presumably,” Hope demurred, and then finally took his attention away from his tablet, “I’m more interested in your hobbies, Noel.”

The young man smiled easily. It was yet another conversation they already had. Within the week they had spent together, it felt like they covered almost every subject imaginable, and circled right back to the same things. Yet rather than boredom, Hope found himself fascinated with each and every tidbit of information gleaned. Every retelling came from a new angle and shed light on something new that gave him new inspiration.

“There wasn’t much to do,” Noel said. “I trained. I learned from my grandmother. Spent time with Yeul. Explored, once I was strong enough to go off on my own. Figured out what could kill a person and what couldn’t. There weren’t— the fancy stores you have, or enough people for fun and games. I used to collect items from the wastes to see what could come useful. Hunting and preserving meat took up most of everyone’s time.”

There was no envy in his voice, just a quiet nostalgia. The dim lights of Academia only served to soften the slight smile on Noel’s face. Hope found himself waiting to hear more.

“Even the passing of time felt different. We marked the passing of days differently. In a lot of ways, things are easier in this era. But few people worked around the clock like you do back home… not unless it was a life or death situation. We ate when we could, slept where we could… This city is like a miracle, but it’s also strange finding out there are people who skip meals and sleep, and they do it regularly even with access to good food and shelter.”

Hope took that jab with aplomb. He could understand the culture shock that would come to Noel, but he had grown up in a society of abundance. Rather, Hope had quite the nasty shock when he first found himself without abundant resources and supplies on Gran Pulse, having to hunt for food and build their own shelter. To him, it made sense that when mankind stopped needing three meals a day, they would pick and choose when they actually ate. It was both a sign of privilege and also a sign of a stable civilization.

“What did you usually do as a child?” Hope asked, reminded of his own awe at seeing Gran Pulse for the first time. Back then, he had still been a quiet child more used to playing video games at home than scavenging the wilderlands.

“Hmm,” Noel hummed as they continued walking down the long halls of Academia, steps echoing off the metal walkways. “Cook? Weave? Play? I trained a lot, and kept busy. What was your childhood like? There must be more things to do with so many people around.”

His childhood?

It was quiet, for the most part. Normal. He never learned to weave or cook, although he often helped his mother in the kitchen and in the garden when it came to her own little hobbies. Hope was a very average boy for his age, and mostly stayed indoors playing video games and chatting with his friends online. Sometimes he went out with his friends, but he mostly preferred spending time with his mother.

He could still remember the pressure against his hair, and her laughter as she hugged him tight. She had been different enough for the both of them, enough that Hope never felt pressured to be unique or outstanding.

“Children go to school,” Hope mused, his tablet now tucked under an arm as he focused his attention on telling this to Noel. “That meant most children were gathered in a few select places while the parents were busy, and learn not only what schools taught but also their social skills from each other. But I’m afraid my experiences in that field may be rather lackluster.”

The most pivotal parts of socialization were said to be during the high school years, much of which Hope missed due to the… tumultuous time and his own status by then. He had seen various dramas as a child and thought he had a proper idea of what to expect, yet the reality was indeed very different.

“Like Academia, then?” Noel asked, arms behind his head. “I’ve seen some kids running about here.”

“Something of that sort,” Hope demurred, “we did start as merely a school, although a post-secondary one. We still have several classes and internships for post-grads, as well as talent scouts for any qualified student. Mostly we let children tour the premises during weekends and holidays.”

“Holidays,” Noel repeated with an air of curiosity and warmth. “Those are so great. What did you celebrate, Hope?”

“The same as everyone else,” Hope gave a generic answer. “Birthdays, anniversaries…. Generalized holidays.”

He didn’t know why he was reminded, but he added, “...Valentine’s Day, probably.”

It was one of the holidays he would look forward to every year.

“Valentine’s Day? What’s that?”

They were interrupted by yet another scientist who crowded into Hope’s space in order to get his attention, armed with multiple tablets displaying data graphics and trends. Noel observed carefully and then stepped back two steps as he concluded that the scientist was no threat.

When the scientist finally finished their presentation to Director Estheim and left happily, Noel joked, “It really does take you an hour to get from one side of a building to another, doesn’t it?”

“Enthusiasm is a lasting motivator,” Hope said as they started walking again. “It’ll get the job done when nothing else does.”

After all, it was the motivated, the ardent and passionate, who badgered their department heads and submitted proposals again and again until even the smallest departments made themselves heard. It was from those people that Hope got waylaid the most, yet underneath the irritation on his most tired days, he admired their tenacity and single-minded focus to bring attention to their passions.

Enthusiasm coupled with determination was a near unstoppable force.

It made him smile.

“Valentine’s,” Hope picked up where he left off, feeling as if the conversation had never been interrupted in the first place— he really was reminded of the enthusiastic notes and bright gifts every year that captured the imagination of a lonely child growing up. “I suppose for children, it’s a day to give small gifts to your friends and receive them in return. Cards, flowers, or candy for the most part. Showing people you love that you love them.”

It had different meanings for adults, but those were things Hope wasn’t as familiar with.

“Just small trinkets,” Hope mused, unaware of his surroundings as he grew lost in thought, “that the recipient might like.”

It was a shame they missed Valentine’s Day this year, but… Hope didn’t have anyone to give things to, even if they hadn’t. He was aware his mentality of the holiday was quite childish, and also aware that everyone he had once gifted cards to, or wanted to gift small trinkets to, were gone.

“Hmm…” Noel intoned, sidestepping a small group of uniformed Academia members as they rushed past them, heads down and speaking in harried whispers so that they didn’t even notice where they were or who they were passing. He had gotten used to that in the past week. “Something like flowers and buttons and ribbons, then?”

“...I have to admit, I never thought of buttons,” Hope admitted, also sidestepping the group. “But other than that, yes.”

Noel gave another interested hum, this time with a lilt that Hope could identify as mischievous, making him look over at the younger man suspiciously.

It was hours later, after two meetings and a presentation, that Noel asked, “Doesn’t that make it like— Christmas, then? Giving away little presents to people?”

“...I guess you can say that. But it’s different.”

“How?” Noel asked, curiosity overtaking him.

He leaned into Hope’s space as Hope wrapped up his itinerary for the day, tapping along the windows that made up different scheduling for the next day. He half thought he should get someone to help him manage his meetings, but then thought it was rather silly. He could manage his own day just fine, after all.

“I guess…” Hope pursed his lips, tapping along the side of the holographic projector. “...Because it’s not expected of people to give gifts? Oh. Perhaps it’s due to the fact Valentine’s is mostly for significant others. Although most children get plenty of Valentine’s gifts from friends when they’re young.”

“Significant others, huh… did you get a lot of those presents, then?” Noel asked.

Hope’s hand tensed involuntarily for a second before he stretched out his fingers, and said with a tight smile, “Just the one.”

Perhaps in another timeline, another lifetime, he might have had a different childhood and grown up with a more normal teenage social life. Perhaps he would have fumbled giving his gifts to different crushes, and perhaps he might have received different gifts in return.

However, that would not be the carefree fate of a former l’Cie.

“Only one?” Whatever it was that Hope thought Noel might ask, he hadn’t imagined the genuine shock in Noel’s voice. “One present? Or just from one person? That’s… that can’t be true, right?”

“Just the one person,” Hope confirmed, and then decided that perhaps he wasn’t as up to talking as he thought. The meetings must have tired him out. Whatever it was, he could see that Noel caught on, as the younger man didn’t ask any more questions despite the burning curiosity written all over his expression.

It was perhaps the first time in their acquaintance that they had little to say in the evening.

—

From then on, Hope began to receive… little gifts from Noel.

“What’s this?” Hope asked blankly as he stared down at the strange rock placed into his hands. It was a dull grey color, with pockholes and a grainy texture felt even through his gloves.

It was, in other words, rather displeasing to the senses.

“Just something I picked up in the Yaschas Massif in… Serah said it was 110AF? I thought it looked interesting.”

As Hope moved to hand the rock back to him, Noel shook his head. “It’s for you!”

Hope withdrew his hands reluctantly and said, “Thank you.”

He sent the rock in for testing later that day, but the results came back as a perfectly normal piece of igneous rock. Just a small chip broken off areas near water that measured in the metric tonnes.

That afternoon there was a piece of smoothed colored glass on his desk after a top-secret meeting in which Noel hadn’t been allowed into, and then a small branch with bright yellow-green leaves that weren’t quite flowers, but looked rather pretty nevertheless.

It was nearly two days before Hope realized what it was meant to be; not because it had taken him so long to come to the conclusion, but because he merely dismissed the possibility beforehand as statistically improbable.

“Valentine’s is a holiday,” Hope explained to Noel when the younger man handed him a bit of rusted metal that looked like it may have been a part of some delicate gears several hundred years ago. “It comes around once a year, and only once a year. Also, I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“You helped build this whole city, Hope,” Noel dismissed easily with a smile. His blue eyes were very bright, young and excited in a way that made Hope want to scuff his shoe against the floor like he used to do as a child. “You’re working to change the future every single day. Isn’t that enough of a gift? It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

“...We may not succeed,” Hope said quietly, unsure if he should even voice his doubts aloud. It felt a little like heresy, to breathe that into existence after all the work that went into building a new Cocoon. “And I didn’t… I didn’t build this city, Noel.”

“Really?” The other man asked, a hand on his hip. “...I could ask anyone here right now, and I think they’d name you as one of the original founders.”

“You could ask anyone here for ten names from the time Academia was being developed, and they wouldn’t be able to name five,” Hope denied, “I am merely the most remembered name. This does not preclude the involvement of numerous others.”

One architectural submission out of hundreds hardly made anyone a ‘founder.’ However, they were getting off topic.

“You don’t need to give me things,” Hope came back to the topic at hand. He frowned at the rusted gears rather than looking at the other man. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate what others may think of as junk. Both he and Noel had admitted a fascination with items commonly overlooked, after all. What Hope did not want, however, was any sort of pity for some random fact he hadn’t meant to reveal about himself. “Especially not if…”

He trailed off, realizing just a second too late that it would be rude to put that thought into words.

“What? If I felt sorry for you?” Noel finished his statement for him, and Hope looked back up to see the other with a raised brow and casual expression. There was no judgement nor disdain on Noel’s face or posture. “Hope, that’s not it.”

Of course it wasn’t. Now Hope was the one who felt like a jerk. Why would Noel feel sorry for him admitting to only ever having one Valentine? The man hadn’t even known what the holiday was a few days ago, and lived in a time when even having one person giving him gifts each year would probably have been a dream come true.

A finger came to push right between his brows, a gesture that Lightning used to do whenever Hope got too caught up in his own thoughts. He half expected to see her smiling at him after he blinked, but it was only Noel, lips quirked in amusement. It was likely a gesture he learned from Serah, and Serah learnt from Lightning.

…The world was so small that way.

“I can see you overthinking,” Noel declared. “You don’t need to do that. You’re right, I thought of giving you these things after you mentioned holidays, but I already know they come once a year. These aren’t for holidays. I wanted to give you these things just because.”

With that, Noel reached out to close Hope’s hands over the rusted gears.

“That’s all.” The man concluded easily, as if he hadn’t nearly bowled Hope over with earnestness.

That sincerity and casualness stayed in Hope’s mind all day, distracting him greatly from his tasks as he lingered over the sentiment. At this point, Snow and Serah had left them together for nearly two weeks now, and it looked as if Noel was comfortable staying for longer. The young man had… had settled into the role of a bodyguard as if it was the most comfortable thing for him. He greeted regulars with a nod, and was starting to understand the busy hours without Hope needing to remind him that he couldn’t be distracted at certain points.

Noel Kreiss fit into the background of Academia so easily that Hope sometimes forgot the hunter hadn’t always been there.

Yet their expeditions into the wilderness continued, just as their explorations into the city did.

“What’s this?” Noel asked the next time they stepped through a souvenir shop, the both of them having learned from earlier mistakes and now dressed in more subtle clothing. The bright fashions of Academia and his tied up hair made Noel look like a bright-eyed and energetic university student, settling into the city on an internship.

Hope pulled his own hat lower over his distinctive hair, blinking behind his tinted glasses. He felt strange out of his usual uniform, but it was a necessity to not draw further attention after Noel pointed out that every road Hope stepped upon had nearly a dozen eyes focused on them always. He didn’t think his appearance was very distinctive, but there was something about the different time periods that gave the people here an advantage at picking him out of a crowd.

(Hope thought it might have to do with mannerisms and perhaps the way he walked, although he hadn’t been able to pick out a difference. Noel pointed out that both Serah and Hope were a few shades paler than the average, which also made sense comparing that they grew up on Cocoon while the inhabitants of Academia had, for several generations, acclimated to the sun of Gran Pulse.)

“Keychains,” Hope answered easily toward the bright pieces of plastic and metal Noel twirled around his fingers, the younger man fascinated with the inlaid sparkles printed alongside the title of Academia in several different languages. “They’re an old fashioned accessory, now worn on clothing as decoration.”

“Oh?” Noel brought the sparkly keychain up to catch the light better, and then made a thoughtful noise before putting it back. “I haven’t seen anyone wearing it.”

“They’re usually gifts for people not from here,” Hope explained vaguely. “That’s the sort of shop we’re in. They sell reminders of one’s trip to Academia… places like this aren’t usually frequented by those who actually live here.”

It likely sounded stranger than fiction to Noel, who hadn’t grown up with tourism.

The younger man snatched another item off the shelf, expression even more enraptured this time.

“What’s this one?” He asked again, and presented the object to Hope.

Hope gave it a quick glance. “That’s a snowglobe.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to explain it all in detail to Noel, but he stayed quiet to let the other man experience learning most of it on his own… and because he had been explaining things for the past two hours already, and would like to get a drink before he said much more.

Yet almost involuntarily, his eyes darted back to the snowglobe that Noel picked out.

It was a hefty item featuring a miniature version of Academia trapped within the glass. Hope didn’t think that it actually snowed in the city the way the globe tried to paint it, and the details were rather blurred and obscured thanks to it being such a generic model, but…

…Didn’t he own something like that?

Hope reached over to pluck the snowglobe from Noel’s hands, surprising the other man. He turned it around in a slow circle, examining the almost childish design for the cityscape, and the off-color paints selected for the base. There were equal parts white bits of snow fluttering around within the globe and equal parts sparkly plastic. The base of the snowglobe was plain and smooth, merely a cheap design meant for remembrance and not for accuracy or extravagance.

No. He absolutely did own this.

That wasn’t possible. Hope hadn’t bought anything superfluous like souvenirs since he arrived in 400AF. To be more accurate, he had never bought himself trinkets like this, not since his mother died. His own keepsakes had always been gifted by other people, such as Elida or Rydgea.

“I have this,” he muttered quietly to himself, brows drawn together in speculation. How did he have this?

It was… he used to stare into this frequently. Shake the snowglobe and stare at the city held within.

(He had drawn a 3D map inspired by the snowglobe before, during restless nights between nightmares. He had stayed up with only the glow of the holovids to guide his hands, crafting almost impossible and winding labyrinthine streets.)

“Oh,” Noel said in response. “I didn’t know you had things like this, Hope.”

“...It was a long time ago,” Hope admitted blankly, staring into the snowglobe. “A very long time ago.”

An impossibly long time ago. Academia hadn’t been built back then.

“No… I once had it. I don’t have it anymore.” He concluded.

After the span of two breaths, Noel asks him, “Would you like it again?”

Hope looked up at him, the snowglobe in his hands heavy and cool, and it was like seeing Noel for the first time. The young man stared at him in return, his gaze calm and clear with no ulterior motives or pressing information to pass to him. Noel stood patiently with a hunter’s stillness, awaiting his answer.

Noel Kreiss, the last hunter… and time traveller.

No, Hope was obviously overreaching. The method may be there, but the motivation was not.

He flushed at the thought. He would have to analyze his own thoughts and behaviors lately. The past two weeks, he felt as if he had fallen into a more common and relaxed speech, and had lingered over insignificant things. He took far too much time off work, and thought of nonsensical ideas. Ridiculous ideas.

He grew—

Attached.

“Noel,” Hope spoke up, because everything felt like it was coming to a head. The small gifts, the way the Hunter grew quiet in the last week, and the burning stare that Hope could feel on him at all times. He wasn’t an idiot. Something had changed in the younger man’s demeanor, and that was what caused Hope to re-contexualize his thoughts. “Why are you giving me these gifts?”

It wasn’t merely because the Hunter said he wanted to. There was more to it than that.

As if caught in the middle of mischief, Noel’s eyes widened innocently. “Can’t I?”

“It isn’t just because you felt like it.” Hope observed aloud. He handed the snowglobe back to Noel, who took it gingerly. “You… don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to, but I—”

“I don’t want you to forget about me.” Noel blurted out.

Hope stared at him.

“How could I possibly forget about you?” Hope exclaimed, tone dismayed. How could such a thing be possible? Noel Kreiss was one of the most unique individuals he had ever met, had ever existed. Not only was he the last hunter from a desolate future timeline come back to help save the world, but the man himself was eye-catching in every way: unforgettable in his skills, importance, determination, and even in charisma and visuals.

Even now, the young man’s look of embarrassment as he stared at anything other than Hope, was a charming one. It was a charm Hope deliberately ignored. Here, Noel looked aggrieved, jaw tense as he finally mustered up the courage to look straight at Hope again.

“Nothing is certain, is it? I keep thinking about Alyssa. About what she did, and how she failed. I want your project to succeed, and I want for you to succeed in saving everyone, Hope. You’re amazing, and Snow is right. The longer I stay here, the more I learn… the more I understand it. The more I think that you’re the most important person in this timeline, Hope.”

That wasn’t true. That couldn’t be true. Hope was merely a cog in a greater machine, one where others operated outside the machine. He was a part that could be replaced, no matter how much he tried to take on.

“I’m not,” he denied, unable to understand where Noel was coming from. How could he? Noel was a time traveller. He was used to finding and fixing paradoxes! He, and Serah, and even Snow— not to mention Sazh who had gone through time to save his son, or Fang and Vanille using their life to hold up Cocoon and save millions of people.

(Not to mention Lightning.)

Compared to them, compared to everyone else, Hope was as normal as could be. Not merely as just a man working the slow and steady, but even in his everyday occurrences. He hadn’t— he wasn’t—

“...Who’s Alyssa?” Hope asked, bewildered.

At that question, Noel’s eyes darkened, and he placed the snowglobe back on the shelf with slumped shoulders.

“Yeah,” Noel said, and then repeated to himself, “yeah. That’s how it is.”

—

Bryne managed to pull Hope aside before the first meeting the next day.

“Director!” The excitable researcher exclaimed, and gave Noel a tilt of his head in acknowledgement before his expression turned back toward Hope and brightened by several degrees. “Director Estheim, it’s ready! That is, the, uh—”

“The data back-up?” Hope asked congenially, carefully giving the man his attention.

“Yes!” The assistant’s eyes sparkled, and he presented Hope with a dark box the size of his palm. It was thin, no more than an inch high, and weighed barely anything. Even the box itself looked fancy, like pressed leather that opened with a hinge.

Hope carefully lifted the cover and stilled.

Pressed perfectly within a bed of dark foam molded around its shape was a golden ring with light metallic embossings that looked like a circuit board. Even without lifting it from its box, Hope took note of the crushed crystal inlay and the warmth like a thrum of power.

Bryne was nearly vibrating with excitement.

“A thumbdrive felt too obvious,” the assistant gushed, beaming, “I asked for a design that wouldn’t stand out if carried around on a daily basis! Of course, there is the option of a pendant, but a ring can also be concealed underneath gloves, and— uh.”

Hope wore gloves on a daily basis. He had ever since he was a child.

He mustered up a faint smile for the assistant.

“Thank you,” Hope said rather rotely, pacing his words to slow down his rapidly beating heart, “and… can this connect with any terminal?”

“Any of them, yes!” Bryne enthused, and explained, “the material is still very new, and there may be older machines unable to read such enormous amounts of data, but connecting with any one of them shouldn’t be an issue. It is, however, encrypted to ensure loss of data corruption.”

“Encrypted?” Hope asked carefully.

“As this is per your request, I’ve taken the liberty to encode the back-up to your biometrics,” Bryne said. “Please do test it out!”

“Yes…” Hope mused, and then said, “please reschedule my first meeting. I believe that’s what I will do.”

—

He went back to his rooms.

They were plain and white rooms, no different from the dorms of other scientists as per his request. Slightly larger, with an attached sitting area thanks to a kindly elderly director who wanted to give him some more space of his own to acclimate to the time period, but nearly barren thanks to Hope having retained very little of his belongings. Most of his things had been confiscated a few years after he entered the gravity well, with anything he might need set into digital schematics to be reprinted in the future should he desire.

Thinking about it now, it was a rash move on his part to give everything away. Had it not been for Rygdea’s insistence in writing subclauses into the Academy rules, Hope himself might have been seized as property of the Academy when he woke up, due to them having kept him for so long.

He felt like his entire life worked out due to luck and the people around him protecting him.

In a drawer below his bed held a spherical capsule which opened up to reveal all the things Hope managed to bring with him from the past.

His wallet and keys, keepsakes from his parents, and…

His gifts. Little trinkets wrapped in a velvet red ribbon.

Amongst those gifts was a small box that contained a golden ring, inlaid with crystal dust, which looked identical to the ring he had just been given.

Hope stared down at the ring, and then took it with him, feeling the familiar worn down grooves.

He didn’t bother to clean his room up before he left, and saw Noel waiting for him at the door, casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded. He even had his eyes closed, but Hope was well aware that Noel was on high alert at all times.

The younger man opened his eyes as the door slid open, and asked, “Ready?”

Hope was not. He felt like a storm was raging within him, with all his nerves screaming in protest. He felt a panic the likes of when he had first discovered the Pulse l’Cie mark on him, wanting to curl up and hide away from the world. His blood pounded in his ears, telling him to ‘run! Run!’ but he stood still and calm.

He wasn’t that little boy anymore, even if the panic still rang true.

“Yes.” Hope answered in a measured tone, and the two of them set off toward a private meeting room. With his mind in such disarray, it felt like no time at all until they were before a large computer terminal, the green glow a gentle light illuminating the room.

With only a heartbeat of hesitation, Hope placed the golden ring down on the console, and watched it light up.

Holographic panels lit up the room, overlaying each other from floor to ceiling. Data charts, compressed files, notched journal entries, schematics, maps, and chemical compositions… it was endless. Landscapes, designs, programming patterns, and mythos all squeezed into one drive.

Hope stared up at it, eyes glazed over.

It was everything that the Academy had on record up to this day, all backed up.

…It was all on the ring he received nearly 400 years ago.

The only possible explanation was time travel.

Patience, one of his Valentine’s letters had chided him.

And the note that had accompanied the gifted ring: A promise we’ll meet again.

The notes weren’t in order, but time travel didn’t require things to be in any sort of linear order.

His face felt warm. His eyes felt warm. Hope had long since said goodbye to any link connecting him to the past, including the mysterious secret admirer who followed him all his life.

He had a suspicion, of course. Had it for years and years now. Hope wasn’t— he wasn’t an idiot. In fact, he always had plenty of theories for everything— he just understood that the probability was close to zero. He had the theory, but it didn’t make sense.

Not until the past few days.

The glow was getting to his eyes, and Hope pressed a gloved hand against his face, breathing carefully. With any luck, the leather would absorb the tears before they could fall.

The biggest mystery of his life, just about solved.

There was still a chance of him being wrong, but the probability had just risen so high that he couldn’t deny its likelihood anymore. Not with the way Noel had handed him that red ribbon. Not with Noel’s recent enjoyment when it came to giving him gifts.

‘I don’t want you to forget about me.’

How could Hope possibly forget about someone so deeply entrenched in his life? How could he—

Hope let out a wet chuckle.

Noel had certainly found a way to ensure that Hope could never possibly forget him. Although perhaps that would be in the future… and his past.

“...Hope?”

Noel would need his keys, Hope thought almost hysterically. He would need… he would need to know about the times that Hope had tried to outwit his Valentine as a child. He would need to know everything, all the small details that Hope would never have spoken aloud otherwise. Even if it wasn’t information on what gifts Hope had been given, but instead what happened to Hope each year for the chosen gifts to correspond to.

Hope raised his other hand when he felt the other move, and said in a slightly nasally tone, “I’m okay.”

There was… there was so much to do. And so much potential.

He pressed his gloves against his eyes tighter and then pulled them away, ignoring the redness that must have lingered. Noel hovered close to his shoulder, his entire posture screaming worry. Rather than face him, Hope picked the ring up from the console and marvelled at how the room immediately dimmed again. For a moment as his eyes adjusted, Hope switched the ring in his hand with the one in his pocket. With the newer ring now in hand, Hope finally turned his attention to Noel, reaching out a gloved hand to present the ring to the hunter.

“Here,” he told Noel, “take it.”

Noel’s blue eyes tracked the ring, but he didn’t move to take it.

“It’s useless with me,” Noel said matter of factly. He had already heard what Bryne said. “It was made to be yours.”

Hope smiled slightly.

“Take it,” he repeated, nudging his hand toward Noel, “and if you do, I will never forget you.”

That drew Noel’s attention like nothing else.

“You’ve figured something out!” Noel exclaimed, his entire body language lighting up with joy. It was precious just how easily Noel expressed himself, and Hope nodded. The hunter grinned, and took the golden ring, holding it up to the light to get a better look at it. “You’re amazing, Hope! How did you figure it out?”

“That’s a really long story,” Hope said. He watched Noel examine the ring, smiling. “But I think I can tell it if you have the time.”

“For you,” Noel told him as he gave Hope his full attention, “I’ll make the time.”