Author's Note: I have long wanted to write something about the friendship between Professor Layton and Luke, because it's absolutely adorable. I just never got a concrete enough idea until I was playing Last Specter and randomly connected a scene to some of the interactions between the two in Unwound Future. That gave me enough incentive to write these two scenes down that had been vaguely floating around in my head for a while. The first scene is meant to happen after/in place of the scene at the statue in the game itself, before the climax gets going.

And yes, the "wise man" Layton mentions is in fact a semi-quote from a Jedi Apprentice book :P

Hershel found Luke at last in the small square with the statue of a man in a top hat and a small boy with a book. Luke sat on the cobblestones in front of the statue, running his fingers over the raised words on the plaque at the statue's feet. As he drew nearer, Hershel realized that Luke was fingering the section, set a little apart from the rest of the inscription, that read, In memory of an extraordinary and everlasting friendship.

With a constricted feeling in his chest, Hershel stepped up beside his young friend and schooled his voice into cheerfulness. "You like this statue, don't you?"

Luke sniffled, and his blue-hatted head bobbed in a nod.

Hershel smiled. "It's a beautiful testament to friendship. There are many memorials to war heroes and famous philanthropists, but few would go to the effort of memorializing something as simple as friendship. It's so often undervalued."

"Yeah..."

Silence fell between them for a moment. Hershel wasn't sure what to say, how to help. He knew the time of their parting wasn't far off, but he also knew it wouldn't help matters at all to dwell on it. What they needed to do now was focus on solving the mysteries directly in front of them, because lives hung in the balance.

"I bet the boy in the statue really loved the adventure stories his friend wrote for him." Luke gazed up at the statue, his eyes over-bright.

Hershel smiled. "I'm sure he did. And I'm sure the author enjoyed writing them, because he knew his young friend would like them so much."

Luke looked back at the plaque, reading the words again. "What do you think happened to the author after the boy died?" he asked quietly.

"We're not told," Hershel mused, looking up at the smiling face of the author. He picked his words carefully, knowing they weren't really talking about the statue anymore. "But I would imagine he went on to write many more books in memory of his friend. He would want to make other people as happy as the boy was."

"That's fine for them," Luke muttered. "But the two friends couldn't see each other anymore. The boy wasn't there for any of that."

"Luke," Hershel cut in gently. "We will see each other again, someday. This will not be the end – just a transition. Now, why don't we continue our investigation for now?"

Luke whipped his head around, glaring indignantly, tears building up in his eyes. "Do you even care? It's all right for you; you can keep on having adventures and solving puzzles – you don't need me! But I...I..."

"Luke..." Hershel bent down on one knee as the tears began to roll thick and fast down the boy's cheeks. He fished out his handkerchief and handed it to Luke, who miserably tried to dry his eyes. "How can you say that? Don't you remember telling me that our friendship is as extraordinary and everlasting as the friends in this story? We won't stop being friends once your family moves."

"I know that," Luke said, shuddering with uncontrollable sobs. "But...But I've learned so m-much from you, and I'm...j-just your apprentice, so...you don't need me. You were f-fine before I came along, so you'll be fine...a-after I leave too..."

"Don't need you?" Hershel laid a hand on Luke's shoulder. "My dear boy, of course I need you. Where would I be without your skill with animals? I would never have discovered the identity of the specter of Misthallery without you. More importantly, you've taught me how to be a mentor. Oh, I make my living as a professor, to be sure. I can lecture on logic and archaeology till I'm blue in the face. But you've shown me how to wait, how to let you figure things out on your own. You've taught me patience and kindness. And as a wise man once said, when the apprentice teaches the master, the partnership is right. To be honest, I don't know what I'll do without you."

Luke looked up at him, eyes wide, searching for comfort.

Hershel squeezed Luke's shoulder gently. "I shall miss you more than you could know, Luke. But I promise this will not be the end. We will see each other again. Now." He stood and held out a hand. "Will you be all right?"

Luke let himself be pulled to his feet. "Yes," he said, hefting his satchel over his shoulder again. He sniffled again, then looked up at Hershel with a watery smile. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Professor."

Somehow, neither of them noticed they were still holding hands until they had reached the end of the street.

The day before classes began was always a hectic day at Gressenheller. There were lesson plans to be finalized, last-minute changes in student lists to be reviewed, and then there was that intriguing letter about the mysteriously vanishing mountain. Flora was a help, preparing tea and organizing his files, but there was just so much to be done before the next day. Hershel barely had time to gulp down some tea and biscuits in between everything else.

But at one point in the evening, just after Flora had left on a date with that dashing young boyfriend of hers, a knock on the open door to his office drew Hershel out of his notes. He turned in his chair absently, his mind still divided between his notes on an excavation in Africa and the puzzling letter. "Can I help you?" he asked, not recognizing the young man who stood in his doorway.

The youngster looked like he might be a new student at the university, dressed smartly in a new suit with a blue tie. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Hershel couldn't place him. He almost looked like that impostor from ten years ago...what was his name? Clive? But there was something different about him...

The young man smiled, hefting a new satchel on his shoulder. "Hello, Professor Layton."

That voice, that inflection, the smile, those earnest eyes... So similar, yet so different due to the passage of time. Hershel slowly stood. "Luke?"

Luke laughed out loud. "I knew you would recognize me!"

Hershel rushed forward and shook Luke's hand, delighted. Luke's grip was firm, confident, and unhesitating. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I've applied to Gressenheller, of course!" Luke announced proudly. "Haven't you looked at your student lists yet? I wanted to study archaeology, and who better to study under than the great Professor Layton?"

Hershel chuckled. "I don't know about 'great', but I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two."

For a moment, the two friends just looked at each other and smiled, hearts swelling with the memories of the years they had spent together, working hard to solve puzzles and help people. They had both grown older, and there would be much to catch up on about the ways their lives had changed in the time they'd been apart. But they could tell in that moment that nothing essential had changed, that their friendship was still as extraordinary and everlasting as it had always been.

"Do sit down and have a cup of tea," Hershel said, ushering his old friend into the office. "I've just received a letter with a most curious puzzle. I'd like you to read it and see if you come to the same conclusions I have."

Luke adjusted his cap with a determined smile. "No puzzle is too hard for Layton's apprentice!"