Please note. This is an alternate-universe standalone story. Do not assume the ending of the game. If you still have a difficult time putting this story into perspective, think of it as post-XIII-3.

Written in Hope's perspective.

Fragments of a Distant Future
Genis Aurion

I suppose deep down, I always knew it would happen.

I just never liked the idea of being left behind.

It began when we'd saved the world, the beginning of a new dawn. We were strangers to the era, to the people around us. We were revered at best, but we didn't belong.

Noel wanted to make himself useful. We all did: Sazh, Vanille, Fang, and myself. Despite the warmth from feeling the sun again after a long sleep in chaos, we felt empty. In exchange for the world, we lost Serah. Lightning. Snow. Equivalent exchange, one might say. It was too much.

Noel turned to the military. In the era that would later be dubbed the Reconstruction Era, there was much work to be done in rebuilding, in peacemaking. He wouldn't listen to any of our opinions on the matter. As noble the cause, there were still terrorist groups and natural hazards lurking in the shadows. I didn't want to lose any more friends, nor did any of us.

But he went anyway.

Sazh had a family, a quickly growing boy to raise. Fang and Vanille lived with each other, but the latter was still young at heart, and Fang was still overly protective of her friend, as always. So Noel stayed with me, whenever he wasn't away. He would be gone for weeks at a time, and then return home for two days at most. In those two days I always gave him my full attention.

Self-characterization has never been my greatest strength, but if I had to explain myself, I would say that I was acting on insecurities. The concept of family, torn away from me at a young age. Leaving in the past my father, my biggest supporter, my last connection to family, because there had been things I needed to get done. And with the world saved, with no driving force to blindly push forward, I needed something to keep me grounded.

In some sense, Noel had become my family. Sazh, Vanille and Fang, they were all my family too – but they had their own lives to lead. I guess Noel did too, but in those two days, he spent it with me.

I returned to the Academy, and Vanille had even joined me. She had always found history fascinating, having been subject to many different ages herself. The development of society and culture intrigued her, and it was for this reason that she became a researcher, like me.

Personally, I think she joined the Academy to keep me company. She never admitted it to me, nor did I expect her to. But gentleness had always been one of Vanille's defining characteristics, and she always did her best to cheer me up whenever she sensed I was under the weather.

And her company always cheered me up, it really did. It was when I left Vanille and the Academy each night that I struggled, when I would think about what could have happened, if there had been a way to save the world without losing Lightning, Serah, and Snow.

And then Noel. Noel's safety.
That had been another matter altogether.

I would write him letters, sometimes.

They weren't really much, and I never sent them out. I would tell myself to wait until he came home, to hand them to him personally and watch him read what I had to say. But even when he did come home, the letters never left the underside of my pillow.

One letter was of gratitude: Thanking him for saving humanity, for saving my life, though I would never have the memory of it; for protecting Serah the best he could, for not allowing either of us to lose our sights in what we wanted from the future.

Another was of identification: Asking him if he ever found use in the military, if he could ever call this era home, even though I knew he would have to; if he ever felt lonely, if he ever struggled with having to find new dreams in an unfamiliar society.

And the last letter, of significance. What he meant to me. What I was now, because of him. What I would be, without him. What it would mean to me, if he weren't gone so often.

That last one had mostly been for me.

Vanille had always been able to read me like paper, so naturally, the more Noel kept coming back and leaving me, the more Vanille noticed my consequent attachment to him.

She didn't judge me, nor did she question me. She didn't give me her opinions, nor did she tell me what I should do. She only did what she'd always done.

One day, after work, she hugged me tightly, and whispered:

"You'll be okay."

Whether I ever would be, that was a debate Vanille wasn't willing to entertain. But, it was encouraging that at least she thought I would be.

When the news reported of terrorist bombings near an area Noel had been deployed to, I panicked.

I called Vanille, Fang picked up, and the both came over to my house. I was a wreck, paranoia took hold of me. All the while, Vanille took care of me.

And then Fang got off the phone and assured me that Noel was fine, that his superior had confirmed his well-being.

Relief swept over me, but it'd been days before I'd properly relaxed.

I may or may not have slapped Noel when he'd next come home.

"You worried the hell out of me!" I nearly yelled at him. But any anger I had for him dissipated when he bowed his head, stepped forward, and embraced me tightly.

Neither of us spoke. It could have lasted for days, and I would never have noticed. But emotions spoke loudest in silence. I could feel his sorrow, but there had been more. Regret. Loneliness. Fear. It had all been there.

"Don't ever leave," I muttered quietly into his shoulder. "I don't want to lose you. Noel, please. Don't leave."

His only response,

"I'm sorry."

Noel spent the night with me, and I don't think I ever stopped crying. Not because of how nice his physical presence felt, his warmth pressed against my back, his breathing tickling the back of my neck. But because he would be leaving anyway, because he had to.

While Noel held me in his arms, I had held my pillow.

And that was when I'd realized my letters had disappeared.

The next few days held the best memories I'd ever shared with Noel. We hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. But not once had he left my side.

But soon it was time for him to leave again. I gave him my plea for him to stay. I always did. And as he always did, he told me he couldn't, that he had to go.

But this time, he kissed me. It was far beyond anything I could've imagined it to be, yet at the same time it was indescribable. It wasn't the kind of kiss between lovers bathed in lust, nor was it the kind one would give to family. It was a kiss that said, This is what you mean to me.

And I understood. Even if it had been the first … and last.

Noel had been the last of humanity, from an age with a much shorter life expectancy. The physical strain he'd put on himself had taken its toll.

Just like that, he'd collapsed. And never awoke.

That was the story I'd been told, by his peers, by his superiors. His life hadn't been in danger, nothing or no one had been threatening him. Yet I lost him anyway.

I was floored, devastated. Without realizing it, I'd given Noel my last goodbye. He was gone, and this time, he would not be returning home.

I couldn't take it in. I didn't want to.

Vanille moved in with me temporarily. It was convenient, I guess. We worked together. She could look after me. Not that I'd left my room anyways.

She stayed in Noel's room, though she only slept there. The other hours of the day, she was by my side. But nothing she did could make me feel better, though I appreciated her efforts. There was a void she could not fill, despite how important Vanille was to me. Noel had been family, inspiration, foundation – everything that would not easily be replaced.

As always, it hurt most without Vanille, when there were no distractions between me, my thoughts, and my memories. Every night, at least once, I would remember how Noel once held me in his arms, in the very bed I was sleeping in. Even if I had been crying, it had been one of the best feelings. But then my thoughts would sabotage the memory, force me to think about what life would be like if I had that feeling to look forward to still, if Noel were still alive, by my side, if he would've considered spending his life with me properly.

Each night, my heart broke. And I would wake up the next morning, only to wait for it to be broken again.

One day, something did break.

"Hope, I'm so sorry!" Vanille shrieked from Noel's room. Naturally I'd rushed over, hoping Vanille hadn't broken anything too important. When I'd arrived, I found a vase shattered, a vase I did not recognize. And in the broken fragments, my letters.

"I'll go grab a broom!" Vanille said quickly, and she rushed out of the room. I picked the letters off the floor. So Noel had read them after all. Read them, kept them, and treasured them.

But a fourth letter remained on the floor. Frowning, I picked it up slowly, trying to recall if I'd really written four and had simply not remembered. But it was definitely his writing that met my eyes, his words which I read aloud.

Hope,

Did I ever feel lonely? Yes. But you gave me a home to return to. Even if I never find purpose in the military, being able to come home to someone who'll welcome me with open arms – that right there, Hope, is what you mean to me.

I hope you never read this letter, just as I'm sure you never intended for me to read yours. One day I'll come home and find the words to thank you too, to tell you exactly what you mean to me. If I'm lucky, I'll get the chance to say these words myself.

Until then, Hope, please wait for me.

Noel.

Vanille once told me, a long time ago, and in a completely different context, that if I didn't take the chance to tell someone the things I had to say, I would regret it forever.

Words that would forever remain unsaid,

I love you.