So, oh my goodness.
I needed a break from Revenant Wings. I really did. And since this oneshot has been in the works since early May, I decided to go ahead and work on it, resulting in this 11,000+ word oneshot that's been bubbling in my cauldron for awhile. As always, this AU oneshot, like the last, is dedicated to my readers, because I would not be the writer I am without them. That being said, this particular oneshot is very dark in the emotional aspect, and I did use religion in it somewhere down the line, so I hope that doesn't offend anyone. The following oneshot isn't a ball of fluff, to be sure, but it also definitely isn't as dark as it could've been. Enjoy, my lovelies!
The dedication:
For LadyAlaska, the awesome friend and fellow fan that makes my life so much brighter by being in it,
For H-thar, whose reviews have always made me smile and whose love for Hope honestly shadows mine,
For That One Reviewee, who just been amazing in general, in both the support and concrit department.
Inspired on several counts by the anime Mahou Shoujou Madoka Magica.
Final Fantasy XIII is owned by Square Enix and is always happily returned at least partially intact.
Equilibrium
"My wish destroyed my entire family. And so, I chose this as atonement. To fight… and to continue to fight forever on the fringes of life and death, I chose to erase all remnants of my living existence from everyone who'd come into contact with me. In this place, there is no future… but here, there's no need to return to a past that no longer exists."
Nightmarish scraps of clouds were marbled across the scarlet skies; stained with coal black plumes of smoke that rose into the everlasting twilight like a phoenix made of ash. Dying screams locked across the very fringes of life and death, the shadows in which that delicate boundary wasn't as clear as it ought to have been. Leaping across the crevice cracked into the ground, ice blue eyes scanned the hellish landscape, waiting for the opportune moment to strike back against the demonic figure crouched in the shadows, its eyes gleaming red in the gloom.
She saw the moment it raised its clawed right hand, intent on causing the accident that would result in the death of its victim; from this shadow world, actions carried out by the wraiths that prowled the edges of life and death would reverberate across time and space. "The universe must remain in equilibrium. If something happens in the realm of the undying, an equal action in the realms of the living and the dead must happen to counteract that act," she whispered to herself.
Those claws had scraped across the metal roof of a car—one more gentle push from this distorted reality would send it plummeting to earth in the world of the living, causing the deaths of the people who stood just underneath the parking lot overhang, the fragile lives that she could so clearly see from this place. "No, you don't!" she growled, whipping out her weapon. The clicking of the weapon caught the wraith's attention; turning away from its target, it lunged at her with outstretched claws, ones that ripped gouges into the already cracked and weathered cement ground. Leaping lightly over the clumsy attack, she buried the tip of the weapon into its arm, dragging its serrated edge up the grey flesh. The severed flesh dissolving into black smoke upon contact, the wraith roared in her face.
Unfazed, she buried a bullet in its forehead.
Its body dissolved into charcoal mist before it hit the ground, its existence leaving this realm for someplace else she couldn't see. "To where it belongs," she murmured to herself; gaze turning upwards, the gouge marks across the roof of the car were still visible from her vantage point, but it was no longer in danger of falling. Slender fingers reached out, for just a moment, to touch the shadowy mirror images of the world of the living projected here—she could feel their presences, the individual, fragile beats of human hearts in a sea of lives that she couldn't directly touch. The wobbly distortion image of the world of the living that she was able to conjure reassured her that the wraith hadn't been able to cause a noticeable distortion, one that she would've had to come back to fix at a later date.
"And if it didn't do as much… then there's no real harm done." Turning to go, she replaced the weapon in its holster, intent on hunting down the next wraith that decided to arise in this shadowy land between life and death.
This is the only way I can continue to exist—here, between life and death. Watching over the people that I might've come into contact with… but with no hope of salvation. I might retain the memories of living, of a life that might've been… but they do not, because I traded one existence for another. And that's a good thing; I don't want them to remember. There's no need.
The shadowlands between life and death. It's a funny place… because in essence, it's the catalyst for all that happens in the world of the living. The universe must remain in balance. Compensation must happen for things to remain in equilibrium.
And for those souls who walked here before, who from this realm could see right into the depths of the human heart and know the very complexities of the words 'to hope'… this realm is no salvation. Because it is here that wraiths are created—from the souls of the fallen. For those who die on this side of the veil, for those who succumb to the despairs of this irredeemable world that insists on repeating its sorrows and tragedies, they become those that disrupt equilibrium themselves.
And as for those who arrived on the steps to this alien realm to begin with? All things happen at a price. To gain, one must give something of equal value. For many, this is a place to continue to exist, because their lives were ended in one way or another in the world of the living. But as for me… I chose to come, to erase all traces of my living existence.
Wishes aren't granted arbitrarily. There are other beings here, ones apart from those who are destined to fight and those who are fated to destroy. And they—they are the ones that created this distortion to begin with… because they can reach across the planes of existence, to touch into the hearts of the living, to grant them wishes that might even be called miracles, should that word even exist. Why do those beings do it? It isn't for benevolence, at least, not in the sense of that word. They do it to maintain this realm so that those imbalances may be corrected – a paradox upon itself. And that's why the price for that wish is a soul—however much hope you wish for, in the end, you will only bring down an equal amount of despair.
That's how this universe remains in balance.
And that's how my own existence here—Lightning—came to be.
"Hope! Pay attention!" Jerking awake to the snap of impatient fingers, an emerald green gaze found the impatient, dancing pine green eyes. Giggling, the red-pigtailed girl pulled him from his seat in the cafeteria as she danced her way to the exit, closely followed by a raven haired woman.
"Sorry," he mumbled, trying to extract his hand from her tight grip. "Dozed off."
Fang rapped him on the head. "You're always dozing off, kid. Look, we didn't drag you here to work on the school project just to have ya doze off, ya know. Vanille didn't pick you as a group member for your slacker habits."
Pushing her hand off his platinum locks, Hope gave her a muted glare. "Yeah, whatever…"
"It's too late to keep working, let's just go home," mused the smaller redhead, resting a hand on her chin. "Hope's mommy will be worried."
Choosing—wisely—to ignore that last comment, he pushed open the glass doors of the school cafeteria to face the blazing sunset staining the school lawns a garish shade of orange. Leaving the chatty girl and her taller friend behind, Hope stuffed his hands in his pockets to protect from the early spring breeze as he set off on the way home, knowing the routine streets by heart. Comforted by the familiar silhouettes of the trees that lined the sidewalks, he felt relaxed even in the face of the coming evening—he could expect his parents waiting for him at home and another mundane day of school in the morning.
What he didn't expect was the incoming screech of a car in the settling darkness of twilight—caught in the headlamps too late, there wasn't any time to react, and absolutely no time to run.
The world's darkness had never seemed so inviting.
But if this was death, then he should have been panicking… right? If this was the 'other side', then at least he would've felt safe, with the people who loved him that he'd never meet, right? It should've been all those things that were told to reassure those that death wasn't finality, but another step in another door, one that would only open once the door called 'life' was closed. None of that had assuaged his living fear of death, and he knew that nothing ever would. Because… death's final, isn't it? Everything else you can fix, right? But when someone dies… there's no going back. It's not wrong to be afraid of that, right?
But Hope felt none of those things. What he did feel was an icy hand gripping his. "Yes. Death is final." The voice was guttery, hoarse, but yet, impossibly smooth. "Are you scared of it?"
Wrenching his hand away, not daring to open his eyes, he scrambled backwards blindly, trying to put as much distance between him and that icy hand as he could.
A chuckle.
"I am not Death. I am here to give you a second chance."
Slowly, finally opening scared verdant eyes, Hope found himself in a realm of nothing but black, with only a ghostly, foggy figure in front of him. Staring at the figure and back to his outstretched hand, he tried to process the logic behind it all. It's… he's like a ghost… He couldn't've held my hand, could he? The figure in front of him seemed so intangible, so delicate, as if a gust of strong wind might blow apart the shapeless fog that was all that existed of his physical form. "W-who are you…?" His voice was impossibly weak, impossibly impotent next to the figure that stood so close to him, its icy presence domineering despite the seeming fragility of its physical existence.
"That is not your concern. I asked you… would you like a second chance?"
Hope didn't think he understood the question. "A-A second chance? At what… life?" Sudden fear of this creature, this being, whatever it was, clouded his senses. Something told him the offer wasn't what it sounded like, but he couldn't deny the panic and rising fear in his chest. Why'd I have to die? What the hell did I do to deserve this? Why me?
"Of a sorts. An existence, if you will. You won't need to succumb to the 'finality', as you put it, of death. There will be none of that should you take this."
An existence? Suddenly, Hope wasn't quite sure if he understood the term anymore. But right now, it didn't matter—his own acute fear of death, of being so very sure that it was the worst thing that could happen to a human being, was choking him, eroding away the doubts he might've had. "I-I'll take it." The words were quiet, uncertain.
"I can't hear you. I cannot hear the conviction you must have for me to grant this."
"I'll take it!"
The moment those forced words left his lips, the world around him collapsed in on itself, the black meshing with an even darker shade to create a plane where nothing existed, where there was neither beginning nor end. That creation—or was it a destruction?—took the breath from his lungs and turned his limbs into ice crystals, frozen in a state that he couldn't free himself from. The lightness in his body that he hadn't realized was present was crushed under heavy gravity, ones that dragged him down to an earth, a bottom that he couldn't see.
Weights slammed into his back, knocking away the little air that he'd managed to drag into his unresponsive lungs in the time that his descent had allowed. A musty, lifeless taste filled the space around him as he frantically gasped for breath; tasting of smoke and something he couldn't place, Hope was suddenly scared to open his eyes, afraid of where his overwhelming fear had brought him to.
It was a very long time before he mustered the inner courage to open his eyes; feeling more afraid than ever, he didn't think he was imagining the loud screeches and screams reverberating in his eardrums.
He might as well have opened his eyes to what could very well be hell.
Stumbling along the cracked, gouged sidewalks, Hope gripped the elbow that had taken most of the impact from his fall. Where… Just where am I? The world around him looked familiar in an ominous way as he strained his eyes to see through the shifting gloom. The screams had moved further from him now, but he could still hear his own pounding heartbeat as he plodded along the broken sidewalk, turning his head left and right for signs of something he might recognize.
The buildings were familiar, at least—coloured oddly, but he thought he recognized them. This is… Isn't this downtown? So why… why aren't there any people? I thought he said—
Hope cut himself off as he noticed two figures in front of him: two familiar figures. "Fang! Vanille!" Except when he reached them, they were nothing but shadows—faded and indistinct. Strangely enough, he could hear their soft murmurs, hear the rhythms of their heartbeats. Reaching out, he realized that he could feel the slow grief that slowed their hearts, the clouded indecision invading their minds. "V-Vanille?"
But just as his fingertips brushed her outline, they passed right through her. Drawing his hand back as though he'd been burned, Hope stared at his fingers, then back at the girl who was walking in his direction. And though he was right in front of her, she passed through him like she was nothing more than mist that clung to the earth after rainy nights. Rendered speechless and staring after her, it was several heartbeats later did he chase after her. "Vanille! Fang! Wait!"
"Stop shouting. They can't hear you. Do you want to be devoured by a wraith?"
Whipping around, at first he couldn't see who the speakers of those words were in the shifting gloom. The blood red sky at the end of the avenue, combined with the dull grey mist that seemed to cling to the cement like dewdrops on spiderwebs, was messing with his perception, and it was only when an even blacker shadow had materialized beside his shoulder did he see who it was.
Unlike the other people here, if those shadows, those ghostly images, could be called that, the woman who articulated those words was very much solid—pastel pink hair standing out in the unsettled darkness, she wore a disgruntled, irritated expression on her face, aquamarine eyes narrowed in annoyance. Hope swallowed when he realized that her right hand was resting on the handle of a weapon. "W-what? What d'you mean… they can't hear me? They're people… right?"
Something flickered in her cold expression. "Yes. They're people. But you're not one of them. So if you don't want your loud yells to attract attention, I suggest you stop shouting and making a target of yourself." Turning around, she gave the red cape on her left shoulder a flick before she made a move to leave.
"W-wait! Don't—Wait! I don't get it… where are we? What—"
She whipped around, an icy fire now burning in her teal gaze. "Didn't I just tell you to shut up?" She pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly regretting her earlier decision to speak with him at all. "You act exactly like the annoying kid you look like. Maker," she groaned, "Why did I even bother?" There was a long pause in which Hope noticed her trying to keep her temper, hand twitching in the direction of her weapon. "You're not alive anymore. You're stuck here. Got it?"
I-I'm not alive anymore? What—But I thought… I thought it said it was going to give me a second chance… I don't—I don't get it…! "But," he spluttered. "It said it was going to give me a second chance… it said I wasn't supposed to feel scared of death…" Those last words came out as a scared, childish whimper as the expression on the woman's face hardened.
"You what?" Striding up to him in a few quick steps, it wasn't very long before she had his collar clutched in her left fist. "You didn't, " she hissed at him. Heartbeat hammering in his throat, Hope knew he didn't have the strength to even begin to push her off. "How stupid… are you?" Shoving him aside with an angry gesture, he didn't miss the agonized fury in her blue eyes. Stumbling off balance, he tried to chase after her when she began to stalk away.
"Wait—"His words were cut off by a bloodthirsty howl. Backpedaling quickly, his steps took him to the cracked ground of the sidewalk as he lost his balance over a pothole. Scrambling backwards on his knees, Hope fought the dire urge to close his eyes and cover his ears with his hands. This can't be happening… this can't be happening… Frozen to his spot on the ground, he watched as the woman whipped out her weapon, seemingly unafraid of the towering demonlike creature that had materialized before them. "So you're someone else who…" he heard her mutter, before he heard the audible growl of frustration.
His limbs wouldn't respond to the commands his mind gave them—the only thing Hope could do was watch as she gracefully avoided the initial barrage of attacks from the swinging claws; leaping into the air, she knocked it off balance with one blow, instantly raining a shower of bullets into it. Moving backwards with a backflip, she landed neatly on a spike of rubble. The demonic creature let out a screech of anger, but she didn't give in to it—swiping her weapon across its throat, the monster aimed a clumsy blow at her before what had been its body dissolved into a black mist not unlike the ones that threaded their way into the blood-red sky.
Shakily getting up, Hope found himself staring at the pink-haired woman in not just fear now, but subdued awe. Wow, she—She didn't even hesitate to attack it. He didn't realize she was moving away again until the distinctive cape caught the corner of his eye. "Wait! Don't leave me here—"
Chasing after her, he managed to reach an arm to grip her right shoulder; turning around angrily, Hope flinched back at the clear annoyance in her teal gaze. "What the hell d'you want?"
Hesitating, the words were at his lips when he realized that what he wanted might be the exact thing she didn't want. "Don't—You can't just leave me here…" Angrily, she shook his grip off her shoulder before advancing on him; despite the fact that her nose was roughly on the same level as his jaw, he backed away quickly at the blazing intensity in those blue eyes.
"What law told you I couldn't?" she snarled at him, anger dripping from every word.
He felt like he was getting interrogated by a police officer, with the way she glared at him. Staring down at his shoes, the next words were a frightened mumble in which Hope tried to hide his own fears of the alien place that his 'wish' had brought him to. "I swear I won't get in your way, I swear I'll do everything I can to help you… Just don't leave me alone…" I don't know what brought me here, I don't know what's going on but please, please don't leave me here by myself…
He saw her give him a critical look, before letting out a sarcastic snort. "Please. Tell me, d'you even know how to fight?"
His silence was all the answer she needed. Snorting again, the woman turned to walk away. "I don't need useless people who need to be baby-sat tagging after me. You want to get tough? Do it on your own!" she snapped, before whipping around once again, leaping lightly over the collapsed streetlamp.
For a moment, Hope wanted to sink into the ground in defeat—Realistically? How long am I gonna last here if I don't know how to fight? The moment that thought crossed his mind, adrenaline surged through his battered body, twisting his gut into instinct. Somehow… she's my only way outta here… How can I convince her to let me go with her? Think! Trying to push away the gathering despair in the corners of his consciousness, he set off in the direction he'd seen her disappear in, keeping his footsteps light and brisk. If what she said's true… then noise draws those… monsters to us?
The streets ahead of him with both familiar and unfamiliar—reflected back to his eyes were the buildings of the town he'd known all his life. But under this perpetually scarlet sky and wreathed in black mist that wouldn't dissipate, they seemed alien, unfamiliar, and ominous; especially when he all but passed through the shadows, the reflections, of the living people that this street contained. And yet, strangely, there seemed to be pockets of distortions from which he could gaze back into the living—bright patches of a clear blue sky that didn't exist in this realm.
And perhaps it was the sight of several of them in the street that he was walking on that finally convinced him that he wasn't going back. I… I'm really here, aren't I? This isn't… This isn't some dream, is it? There's no return to life, is there? The thought made him want to sink to his knees then and there, but Hope held those feelings back, willing himself to keep going. If the way she acts is any indication… there's no room for the weak—and I… I've gotta get stronger if I want to survive! Shoving the nostalgic, bittersweet thoughts to the back of his mind, he tried not to let himself dwell on the things that had made his life worth living, the things that had created the desire to live.
Those thoughts led him to her words and the way her expression had instantly changed when he'd admitted that he'd chosen to come here. What's… her problem? Wouldn't she, I mean, wouldn't anyone want a second chance at life? I wouldn't've known that it was a trick until I got here… so why… why did she react that way?
Hope decided to add that to the list of things he had yet to ask her when he caught up with her.
"I made the wish anyone would've made if they were in my shoes. Who wouldn't want a second chance at life? Even now, even in this realm, this existence is better than the finality of death… isn't it? Being here, breathing, seeing… it's better than being in a cold grave, unknowing, for the rest of eternity, isn't it? And so why… why did she look like that, when I told her I wanted the chance at life? Why did she look… horrified?"
Lightning increased the pace through the twisted streets; she'd walked these roads too often—her mind knew exactly where each crevice and pothole was and she blew by them without even thinking, her body on autopilot while her mind raced ahead, trying to process his appearance.
It wasn't that it was a strange occurrence that someone else would be thrown into this shadow realm, either consumed by the wish they'd so foolishly made, or perhaps were stupid enough to seize the 'chance' that the creators of this realm offered to the dying. And that's what he did, isn't it? Took what they offered without even asking what he was agreeing to. Fingers clenching into fists at her side, she spared one glance through a distortion, noting wryly that in the living world, night would be falling soon. And between this realm and death… simply dying would've been a kinder fate. Because to die here means to become a wraith, one that must be destroyed before it creates too much entropy for this universe to remain in balance.
But tonight, no howls ripped across the bloodstained sky—no new wraiths had been born since the time she'd been here last. Lithely scaling the rusted rungs of a ladder that led to a rooftop, Lightning settled herself at the very edge of the cement, looking out across the shadow of the city that had been all of her existence for longer than she'd cared to count.
In the distance, she spotted the distinctive platinum head of the kid who'd tried to follow her earlier. Snorting inwardly, she watched his painfully slow progress through the hellish streets. He should be wishing he didn't come here just about now… Still. He's not really a kid—if he's taller than me, he can't be young. And what mature adult would make the mistake of choosing this over simply dying?
It wasn't like she didn't know the answer, but she berated him in her mind for it all the same. For the people who've led unburdened lives, for the people whose lives haven't been ripped apart… death must be the most frightening thing… huh? To be taken away from all of that without a chance of going back has to be scary, right? Giving pink locks a slight shake; Lightning raked her hands through the curls draped over her left shoulder. How very wrong you are.
Still. She had to admit it wasn't a good idea to leave him alone down there, however useless he was. Because… let's face it. He made the same mistake I did—of making a pact with those beings. And why try to pretend anymore? I didn't understand the full consequences of my own wish either; I was just as easily tricked. Resting the knuckles of one hand on her chin, she tried to weigh her options. Admittedly, if one found an ally of sorts in this realm, it would become less likely that either of them would die here. On the other hand… he didn't look like he'd held a weapon in his entire life. I could teach him, but…
Sympathy wasn't her forte. If he was going to cry and lament that he was never going back, then she didn't have the patience—or time—for that. But if he's going to get his act together and make himself useful, then, maybe…
Logical reasoning dictated that she let him stay with her, for the simple fact that there was less of a chance that any of them would get snuck up upon when there were two people on the watch. And sure, she had her doubts about his competence, but hadn't she been the same upon first arriving in this realm? So why…
Lightning really didn't have to dig very far to find the source of her reluctance. I'm used to being alone. Every single thing I've done… whether it was in life, or here, has been by myself. I'm perfectly fine alone. And I know that any logical, regular human would ask me how I got here. And that's something I'm not willing to share. I decided the moment that I chose to come here; I would erase all traces of my previous life—so that there's no past to haunt me. A pained sigh escaped her lips. But I can't ignore the fact that it's because I've been alone my entire life that…
Leaping off the roof of the building in one fluid motion, she landed neatly on the sidewalk below. Tracking the silver-haired teenager was beyond easy at this point—she could feel his emotional turmoil from where she was standing. Snorting to herself again, she set off at a brisk pace to his approximate location. You'd better not do something to make me regret this decision.
That was when the howl of a wraith rocked the scarlet skies; jerking her head up, Lightning tried to pinpoint the location of this new one. Either someone else has gotten themselves killed here, or… The disturbance was coming from her left, which also happened to be the direction that he was going in. "Shit," she hissed to herself, throwing her body forward into a run, she made it to the nearest rooftop without thinking. It'll be easier to track when I'm up here… and it's easier to get around.
She could see it now, its towering grey form easily dwarfing the buildings around it. Traversing the rooftops, she kept an eye on it and on what it was doing. It was disturbingly near a distortion, and sudden apprehension wracked her slender frame when she realized what it wanted to do. She could see the distortion now, the star-spangled sky that peeked through the tears in between the dimensions, and she could see that it was going for the wires that hung precariously from the streetlamps. That could… She could also see that the platinum-haired teenager was cowering away from it—really, it was less than ten yards away from him. But the wraith, intent on its goal, hadn't noticed its prey so close to it.
Leaping down from the building, Lightning flicked open her weapon; her first shot caught it in the arm, making it turn around with another yowl of fury. Staring into its lifeless scarlet eyes, she waited until it was only a few feet away from her before dodging to the side, avoiding its first sweep of claws and jumping lightly onto its back. From here, she easily dragged the edge of her weapon across its throat, and suddenly, the bulk underneath her dissolved into the black mist that signalled its destruction.
"Y-You came…" She could hear the scared relief in his voice as she turned around, stuffing away the weapon.
"Don't let it get to you," she snapped. "I didn't come to save you. I came to destroy it before it could disrupt the living world." He approached her now, staring intently at the distortion in front of them.
"Disrupt… the living world? What… what d'you mean?" There was a frightened curiousity in his voice now.
Gesturing towards the distortion, she set her eyes on the electrical wires of the park that was visible through the tear in time and space, and the ones here that mirrored them. "Because the universe has to remain in balance. If you destroy something here, it gets destroyed in the realm of the living. You see how much damage broken wires could've done in the living realm? That's what it was after."
Turning his attention away from the distortion and setting his emerald gaze on her, his next question was a venture. "So what… what was that? The monster… or whatever."
"That," she growled, "is what happens to you if you die on this side of the veil, or if you go insane watching the tragedies of the living world you're so fond of. You might've noticed you can feel the emotions of living humans in this shadow world, and listen to what they're saying. If you let that get to your head, well…"
He was silent for a moment, clearly trying to absorb this new piece of information. His voice was broken and quiet when he spoke next. "So what… what can you do?"
Letting out a huff, she glared at him, already regretting her earlier decision. I don't need a counsellor, or a philosopher. I need someone to help me stay alive. "You fight them; you destroy them before they cause damage. End of story. And as for those who're living? You learn to tune them out."
He didn't have a response to that. Giving him a critical glance, she could see the indecision, the pain that decorated his gaze. Urgh… why did I have to get stuck with someone who's never known that there are things in this world that're worse than simply dying? Crossing her arms over her chest, Lightning waited for him to come to terms with that fact, to try to struggle with that acceptance, when he finally looked up. "Why… why are you still here? Don't you—I mean, aren't you…" He trailed off, silenced by her scowl.
"Listen up. I'm giving you one chance. If," she made sure to place heavy emphasis on the word, "you prove to me that you're more than a scared little kid who can't accept that he's dead, I'll let you stay with me. Don't make me regret this decision," she finished, intently watching the expression on his face change.
"Really? I-I mean—I swear I won't do anything stupid—"
"Enough!" She cut him off angrily. "I don't need to hear those promises, I want to see that they're the truth." Turning her back, she set a pace off towards her usual rooftop that she thought he could keep up with. Hurried footsteps behind her told her that he was stumbling after her—there was a slight hitch in his breathing, but she didn't feel the need to slow down for him. If he wants to survive here, he'll be better off toughening up sooner rather than later.
"Um… can I ask you one more thing?" The tentative question came after a few minutes of silence. It sounded to her as though he'd been chewing through this one for awhile, because there was a certain sort of hesitancy in it, almost as though he was afraid of what the answer might be, or if indeed it was a question she would answer. But when she gave no spoken repellences or acceptances of that question, he ploughed on anyways. "Since, well, you know, we're teaming up… can you tell me your name?"
Should've known. If she was honest with herself, she really didn't want to tell him. But I guess it makes sense for him to know… right? "It's… I'm Hope," he continued quietly. The moment the one syllable name reached her eardrums, she wanted to scream every obscenity she knew at him. Inwardly, Lightning knew it wasn't his fault—he couldn't have picked his own name, but… But to name your child after the one thing that absolutely does not exist in this universe, to name your child after the one thing that will inevitably bring only despair, the one thing that's not worth believing in… how deluded can you be? Still, it wasn't his fault, and she knew it would be unreasonable for her to flip out at him just because of what his name was. The one word I vowed I'd never say or acknowledge, in any shape, way, or form, again. Stopping for a moment, she tilted her head back slightly to watch his wary, uncertain expression—clearly, he hadn't noticed her qualms about his name, nor did she want him to. He doesn't need to know.
"Lightning."
Chasing after the pink-haired woman, Hope kept his eyes on the streets that they were passing, but they were empty, devoid of the wraith that had appeared this morning. In the months—he wasn't sure anymore, if he was honest—since he'd arrived in this realm, he'd known that things had changed… and it had started the moment that Lightning had let him 'tag along', in her words. Fighting almost every day… it changes someone. Because… in these last few months, I can see why she's so negative all the time now. Because from here… I can see everything. I can hear the backstabbing and the negative feelings that underlie every single sunny disposition. But still… it doesn't mean the human world is a bad place, it's just… Watching her stalk confidently a few steps ahead of him, Hope tried, once again, to dissect her disposition. She's not… she's not a bad person. Underneath the icy, abrasive attitude… there's something else. Underneath all that, there's a sort of sadness... almost a longing. He hadn't quite figured it out yet, but in the long moments in between hunting down the wraiths that seemed to never leave this realm no matter how many they destroyed, he'd gotten glimpses of the person underneath.
At first, her adamant refusal to say anything about herself had bothered him—if they were going to work together, then she could at least be a little more friendly— before he had noticed the almost painful despondency so well hidden by her icy exterior. That was when he'd figured out that her standoffishness masked something else. He wasn't going to pry—she would only yell at him for being 'annoying', but Hope had a feeling that all of that was going to come out… eventually.
The only thing is… The only thing was that she was so, so firm in her belief that the living world wasn't worth going back to. The first time he'd tried to talk to her about what living was about, and why it had been worth it, she'd practically shouted at him to shut up, and had snarled that he didn't know anything. He'd shut his mouth after that—really, it wasn't worth arguing with her over. But still… she's not a bad person. There's just gotta be something that's happened to her while she was still alive to ruin her faith in living. He'd also noticed the way she reacted to the word 'hope'. Not while she was saying his name, though a flicker of that was there when she called him, but to the word in general. The way she puts it… it's the worst sin in the world, to believe in hope.
He'd made it his personal goal to change that view of hers. After all… what else can we do but believe? Hope still hadn't forgotten her initial anger when she'd finally wormed it out of him how he'd gotten here. The livid, disbelieving fury in her eyes had honestly scared him; before she'd turned around with a resigned sigh, sitting down to bury her forehead against her knees. Her next words had unnerved him in a way her anger couldn't, had chilled him to the core. "Simply dying would've been a kinder fate, you know."
An arm blocked his way through, as Hope unceremoniously bumped into her back when she stopped, weapon already drawn in her right hand. "We're close," she hissed. Peering over the top of her pink head, Hope could see the greyish, sickening flesh of the wraith—its claws were digging into a metal railing on the side of a building. He swallowed thickly at the thought: in the real world, that banister would go plummeting to earth, along with the unfortunate person that happened to lean on it in its weakened state. Pausing at the corner of the courtyard that the wraith was standing in, she gave him a brisk nod before disappearing into the shadows. Right… we agreed on the plan earlier.
Lightning had had to compensate for the fact that he didn't know how to fight. She'd discovered early on that he had good aim, though, and it was in that respect that she'd dug up the materials for bombs. They weren't the lethal kind the military had, but they were enough to do damage at a relatively close range, and fatal if hurled at the right spot. And it was that first time that he'd taken out a wraith by himself that he noticed something had changed between them. It was subtle, but it was there—if it hadn't escaped his radar, he doubted it had escaped hers. Because in that moment, they'd become something more than grudging allies, forced to work together because it meant a better survival chance for them both. Friends? Hope wasn't sure if that was the right term, and he definitely wasn't sure if she would appreciate it, but the shift had been there and it wasn't going to change back.
Pausing at the corner of the courtyard, he spied Lightning creeping up to the building, edging closer to the wraith. Quickly scaling the decrepit looking tree near him, Hope tested his weight on one of the branches, feeling gratified when it supported his weight well enough. Taking in the backside of the wraith, he felt, as always, a twinge of pain when he thought about its origins. It was once human… like us, trapped here between life and death. But for whatever reason, it hadn't wanted to fight back. He'd seen other people here, apart from himself and Lightning, but they didn't seem to acknowledge each other. She'd explained that though they shared the same realm, if the other people had come for different reasons, then their existences didn't cross. His next question had died on his lips. "So you chose to come here too?"
Perched on his branch, he waited for her signal, the small explosive already held ready in one hand. She's taking a really long time…
What happened next was too spontaneous, too utterly unexpected to be an accident. The wraith had let out a screech—presumably, it had gotten hit—but Lightning wasn't moving for the next blow, nor was she giving him the signal to attack. She was standing there, frozen in rapture at the distortion that was located just inside the banister that the wraith had been intent on weakening. She'd stayed still a moment too long—a blunt claw had caught her in the back. "Crap," he hissed to himself, throwing the explosive at the wraith's exposed back.
The time in between that motion and the moment the explosion came seemed too long; it felt like the frozen time dragged on for several eternities before the inevitable fiery blast rocked the ruined landscape of this realm. Quickly scaling the side of the building, he was out of breath when his head finally peeked over the top. Why'd she stop fighting? What the hell did she see in that distortion? When he pulled his protesting body up over the ledge of the roof, he'd already spotted Lightning on her knees—thankfully seemingly unhurt—staring at the hazy images projected through the distortion. Squinting as he drew closer, he could make out the images of this very building underneath a clear blue sky. Apprehension and dread pounded through his bloodstream as Hope realized he recognized this building in the living realm. It's… it's the school, isn't it? And through the blurry lens that the distortion provided, he could make out a burly blond and a shorter pinkette—their emotions reached through to him like claws slicing through paper. Through that medium, as much as he might've willed it to stop, he could feel their bittersweet happiness, their sense of longing—hers in particular— that pierced through the haze of this realm like a blade.
Tentatively approaching, he reached out a hesitant hand to lay on Lightning's shoulder. "Light—"But he didn't get to finish his sentence before she got up and broke past him in a flat out run, disappearing over the side of the building in one graceful leap.
Bewildered and feeling that same dread grip at his throat, he made to follow her; peering over the side of the building, Hope saw her running through the empty streets, the distinctive red cape trailing out behind her in her desperate attempt to escape from something. I-I don't get it… Why was she running? Just what… Giving his platinum locks a shake, he set off after her; alarm pounding through his bloodstream. I've never… I've never seen her lose control like that. Why… What happened to make her react that way? And suddenly, Hope wasn't sure if he wanted to know anymore. Is this about the past she was so adamant about me not finding out…?
He really didn't have a choice but to go after her.
Hope finally caught up to her perhaps half an hour later. Arm and forehead pressed against the blackened brick of an alleyway, he froze at the sight: never had he seen her look utterly defeated. The expression on her face made his throat tighten; he hadn't said anything, but she knew he was behind her, regardless. And perhaps she knew he was going to ask, perhaps she knew that there was no way she could get out of this without an explanation, because when she began to speak, her voice was quiet, hoarse—a tone he'd never heard in it before.
"My father was a preacher… the kind of person who didn't want to read the papers in the morning because of all the things that happened in the world. But he wasn't—he wasn't being unreasonable, he wasn't raving about stupid things… he just wanted things to change. So when he started preaching stuff that wasn't in the texts… People stopped coming." She let out a faint snort. "I suppose it wasn't a surprise… that people no longer wanted to listen to someone who wanted to change their faith. But back then, I was young, naïve… I didn't get why they didn't want to listen to him. Because nothing he said was wrong… it just wasn't what people were used to hearing."
He took a step towards her. Now that he was closer to her, Hope could see that her entire body was shaking; her right arm was pressed so hard against the weathered brick that her skin was white.
"It got to the point where no one had enough to eat. Me, my younger sister… everyone. That was when he came. The same one that offered you your wish."
It was awhile before she continued. "I asked him to make it so that people would come to listen to my father again. In return, I gave him half my lifespan." Ignoring his sharp intake of breath and the glance he instantly threw in her direction, she ploughed on. "But like I said… I was naïve, foolish. I was stupid… so stupid. Because when he found out that it was my wish that made people come back to him, and not because they believed… he lost it. He called me—his own daughter—a witch that tainted people's hearts." At this, she let out a self-deprecating laugh. "What could I say in my own defence? After that, he had a breakdown. Drank himself into a fury… and killed my entire family before committing suicide."
"Lightning." His voice sounded impossibly weak, impossibly impotent against her harsh, lifeless words.
"That's when he came back… because he knew all along that my wish would destroy everything I knew! And so, that's when I asked for a second wish—in return for coming here, to fight for however long the rest of my existence would be, he brought my younger sister back to life… the one person that I didn't want to see hurt by all of this, and erased all traces of my human existence from the living world… so that she'd never have to remember. But today…"
At that, Hope watched her sink to her knees; forehead still pressed to the brick wall, she spoke the next words through gritted teeth. "But today, I saw her. My sister. I should've known… if he tricked me once, he could do it again. She didn't really forget… did she? I've never sensed her here, I've never seen her from this side before… how the hell was I supposed to know that she still remembered some of it?"
Kneeling down beside her, she saw him reach for her. "Don't even think about it," she warned—the threat wasn't as potent as it probably could have been: her husky voice was still layered with a heavy despair, and she choked on the last syllable.
That first contact was awkward, precarious, and it was only compounded by the fact that Lightning's slender frame was still trembling. But in that contact, Hope could feel her erratic, pounding heartbeat and the faint gasps that were her every breath. After a few moments of resistance, she finally relaxed—leaning her head back against his shoulder, her own shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "Lightning," he repeated quietly.
They remained that way for a long time; enough for her to calm down, and enough for him to finally wrap his head around the enormity of her words. So this is why… Hope tried to put the emotional ramifications of her confession aside—he felt numb and insignificant to the heavy weight of what her wish had been, and in the end, the only thing he could comfortably acknowledge was that fact that he now knew exactly why she acted the way she did. When she said she didn't believe in hope… it's because she wished for it, only to have it torn down by things she couldn't've forseen. When she said that this world was irredeemable, it's because she's seen everything that makes it seem that way.
When they finally let go, Hope saw her take an immediate step back. "So that's my little sob story," she murmured quietly—though he did notice that her voice was back to its usual crisp tone."Shit… I shouldn't have reacted that way. You didn't need to know," she finally acquiesced.
"Not true," he countered quietly, working hard to keep the pity out of his own voice because he knew she would hate him for it. "Sure… it probably wouldn't be a bedtime story for a kid… and I know it sounds terrible, but… it's helped me understand who you are. So don't be sorry."
A ghost of a smile twitched at her lips, before it was claimed by some other dark thought that crossed her mind. "That's why I was so angry at you when you said you chose this," she admitted. "Because… you didn't… you had a choice. And back then, looking back on it now… simply dying would've been easier."
"But no one would've known that earlier," he murmured quietly. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen when you wished for what you did—maybe you didn't know what it was your father really wanted, but… it's not a question that you made it because you thought it was the right thing to do."
Rubbing the corners of her eyes with her fingers, Lightning turned her head to the side slightly, like she didn't want to look at him in the eye. "That's just it, though. I should've known that I couldn't make a wish like that without consequences."
That's right... That's one of the first things she told me when I got here. "However much hope you wish for will only end up bringing an equal amount of despair."
Shaking her head again, Lightning raked her hands through her cherry coloured locks before turning to go. "I can't help it now," she finally said; Hope wondered whether that statement had been for his benefit or for her own. "Come on… let's go."
Stumbling after her, he followed her through the now silent streets, taking in how steady her steps were for someone who had been all but consumed by emotion just perhaps half an hour before.
"And that was the moment I realized my innocence was gone. I could no longer look at the world and blindly claim to her that it was someplace worth living… because of the simple fact that she'd seen every single hardship it had to offer. And it made me realize something else—how very lucky I had been in life. How my life had been worth living because I wasn't dealt the same hand that fate had dealt her. But suddenly, it made my own goal a lot more meaningful, because now, I had to show her that there were things to live for."
Watching the wraith disappear into its charred black smoke, Lightning put away her weapon; letting out a soft huff when she heard Hope approach behind her, she turned to go. I'm not in the mood to listen to one of your speeches, Hope, so please save it.
In the time since that moment she'd found her sister through the distortion, she'd known that something had changed in their relationship. 'Allies' didn't cut it anymore… for the simple fact that she'd told him the one thing she vowed she would keep to herself for the rest of her existence. I still don't know what made me tell him that day. Sure, he would've been pissed if I didn't… but I didn't have to. It had taken some serious self-reflection for her to finally discover the answer. It wasn't because I wanted to show him how foolishly deluded he'd been in his belief that this world is a good place, it was because… She was almost too embarrassed to admit it, even to herself. It was because, after so long, I wanted someone to understand… why I act the way I do, why I think the way I do.
She wanted to convince herself that she didn't need someone else's sympathy—after all, that had never been her forte—but she'd be lying to herself if she wanted to say that. But still. It doesn't change the fact that this world is still incorrigible in its faults. It doesn't change the fact that still… dying would've been easier to deal with than the ultimate consequences of desperate wishes.
Settling herself on the usual rooftop, she didn't move away when he sat down next to her, looking up at the scarlet sky that never shifted its shade. "Hey… Lightning?"
"Mmhmm?" So long as this isn't another one of your lectures to show me that life's worth living, I'll listen.
He took a breath before continuing with the question. "I've never asked you… but who created this place?"
Who created— Where the hell did he come up with this stuff? She might've been more relaxed than usual around him, but she knew a dangerous topic when she heard one. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Lightning shot him a glance under her eyelashes. "The same being that brought you here. Why?"
Hope shuffled uncomfortably under her icy gaze. "Well… what if… that being was destroyed? Would this realm cease to exist, or…?"
"I don't know." That, at least, had been a straight answer: she didn't know. It was never something she'd had to consider—the only thing she worried about here was survival. She'd never actually considered finding, or indeed, destroying the being that had created this realm. She hoped her look was potent enough to stop all further conversation about this particular topic. End of discussion, Hope.
But if he recognized, or acknowledged, her look, he chose to ignore it. "Lightning…"
"Look, Hope. The speculation is nice and all, but what d'you hope to gain from destroying the thing that created this place? Don't tell me—"She let out a frustrated groan, burying her face in a hand. "You won't go back."
"Why not?" he countered. "Lightning, you told me that this place is a paradox upon itself. That it was created to destroy the wraiths that threatened the universe's balance. But to bring people here, entropy needs to happen, wishes that disrupt the equilibrium of the world need to happen. We were both brought here because of that paradox. Why not?"
Taken aback by his words, she stopped to consider it. And for a few long moments, that silence stretched on as she took in his serious gaze, trying to discern if he was trying to toy with her or not. "Okay, fine," she finally acquiesced. "Let's just say that this theory of yours… does work. How the hell do you expect to waltz up to that thing and tell him 'We want to destroy you?' Hope, that's—"
"It's not impossible." He had his lip stuck in a stubborn line as he met her glare equally. "We both know how to fight. We've survived here for so long. It's not impossible."
She wasn't convinced—but she decided to humour him anyways. What kind of crazy idea have you come up with this time around? "Alright. So let's say this whole thing goes along with your plan… what the hell am I supposed to do back in life? You might have people to live for, or whatever, but what…" Lightning cut herself off before she could continue. Serah.
Hope took a step closer to her. "Lightning. I know you said… life's not worth living. But won't you give it a second chance? I promise… I promise I'll show you things that're worth living for. You've only seen the worst of people, and the worst things that happen… you haven't seen why all these people," gesturing towards the shadows of the lives that milled around the empty streets, "are living. It's not because they have to. It's because they want to. Please? You don't have to spend the rest of eternity here fighting… you can find out why they all want to live."
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to think through his words. The only thing… I have to live for is that I have to apologize to Serah. Because if she does remember… No. It's not worth it. He caught her hesitancy before she even had to voice it aloud.
"Lightning. Don't just think about the things you have to do, think about the things you want to do. You won't have to fight anymore; you won't have to deal with everything else you've dealt with the last time around." His voice had dropped to a whisper. "You can start again."
Start again? "Besides," he chuckled quietly, "I want to meet you in circumstances where we're both not fighting for our lives." Letting out an irritated snort, Lightning turned her head to the side, trying to cover her embarrassment.
"I don't know," she finally got out. "It's just hard to change the way you think when you've thought that way for a long time." Not from the lack of trying on your part, though. I've listened to you try to convince me there's good in the world for the better part of the last six months.
He took another step in her direction—fighting the instinct to back away, she tightened her fingers on her arms. "I know," he admitted quietly. "But I have something to show you… if you want to come." Raising an eyebrow at him, Lightning wondered just what, exactly, he was up to this time. But since she didn't have a better reason to refuse, she let him take the lead from the rooftop; noting with wry satisfaction that he knew these streets almost as well as she did now.
But he didn't head for where she would've assumed he was going to go. Instead, he took a back alley to an open street, one in which the lives in the human world flowed and ebbed around them. The shadows of those lives parted like a sea around them; trying to avoid contact with them, Lightning flinched away every time one of them grew close to touching her. There's a reason why I pick rooftops as my method of travel.
Watching the reflection of those lives around her, she turned to him. "Why are we here?"
"Because." The one word answer wasn't enough, and she'd been about to question him again when she'd noticed he'd stopped.
Crossing her arms again, she waited. "What?"
Leaning against the cracked cement of the building that lined the sidewalk, it was awhile before he spoke. "Remember how I told you I died in a car accident?" Hope didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "For the longest time… I wondered. The exact nature of my death. Who was it? And why? I came here, to this spot, awhile ago, to try and find out. And that's when I saw something through that distortion," he stated plainly, pointing at the one that was several yards away.
"I saw… my friends. My parents. But they weren't sad. My parents had been fighting for awhile, and I know that I was scared because they might've gotten a divorce. And it was then that I realized… it was because of my death that had brought them together again. I know it's silly," he admitted quietly, a wan smile stretching on his lips. "But it felt comforting. It let me accept the fact that I was gone in an easier way, because good had come out of it."
"I don't get it," she snapped bluntly. In truth, she did get it, but there was no way in hell that she was going to acknowledge it. You're still dead, aren't you? The one thing you were scared of? That fact's not changing.
A pained look entered his verdant gaze. "Lightning, you said that things in this universe are balanced. And it's true… for everything that happens, there's a price. But that price goes both ways… otherwise how would this universe keep going? For every wish made in hope, there's despair. But for every sacrifice made in despair, there's new hope. Don't you see?" A pleading tone had entered his voice, and she knew he was desperate for her to believe him, to believe in what he was saying. "Good things do happen. For every terrible thing that happens, something good will come out of it. It's not wrong to believe in hope, because somewhere, someday, it'll always return, to counteract the despair."
Letting out a faint groan, she tried to ignore it. I told myself I would never believe in the words 'to hope' ever again. But whether it's in the real world… or heck, the person standing right in front of me, I have to admit that I want to believe. That there could be something better waiting. He was watching her with silent, expectant viridian irises, watching her as she tried to balance those two thoughts like they held up the world.
"Fine." She didn't miss the smile that quirked the corners of his mouth, because it was a genuine one. "But you'd better be right," she grumbled, giving him a smirk. "I don't want to take on whoever the hell that created this dimension only to find out that you've been lying to me."
He chuckled at that. "I promise."
Neither of them had known where to even begin looking for the creator, the being that had ultimately created the dimension they were in, but it had been Hope's hunch that its presence would appear the moment someone else was introduced into this realm, and since she hadn't had a better idea, Lightning had gone along with it. But I don't think either of us had expected to be overwhelmed so easily— No. I knew it would be hopeless before we even tried. I didn't believe that we could take it on and win. That encounter had left them both injured and vulnerable, but it had also left a new realization burning in her mind, one that overrode the pain as she'd knelt there gasping for breath. But it made me realize something. That something was that that being is bound to something as well... just like us. Because this universe is maintained by equality. Even a creator cannot escape that fact.
And so, it had been on that that they had staked everything they'd had left on this next encounter. Crouched in the shadows, Lightning could only hope that it would be enough. A flash of movement caught her eye — glancing up, she caught the dark shape of a body plummeting from the crimson skies, just as Hope had so long ago.
Stepping out of the shadows in response, she caught it – that same presence that was almost overwhelming in its potency. Leaping from her standing position, she was prepared to chase after it, but there was no need. She felt Hope tense just behind her as the shapeless mass of mist gathered before them, forming the rough outline of the being that she had come into contact with just twice before. "So I see the two of you are still intent on destroying me. For what? For life?"
"You destroyed everyone else's dreams by existing," she said slowly, trying to keep her voice even. I don't know if there's anything waiting for me… That's something I will never be sure of, but I trust him. "There's balance in this universe, but this place in itself is a paradox. If this realm didn't exist to begin with… there would be no entropy that comes from here."
"That's true. But how would you go about changing that? This realm, this shadowland has existed for eons longer than either of your existences. Who are you to change that now?"
Hope took a step forward. "That's why… we want to make a final wish. In exchange for our existences here, we want to go back. To go back to when this realm was first created, and destroy the being that created it." A determination crept into his voice. "You're bound to grant us this wish, aren't you?"
That had been something neither of them had been sure of, but a gamble that both of them had been willing to take. After all… this whole place might've been created because of the wish of one person. But as soon as an unbearable lightness took hold of her body, Lightning knew that the gamble they'd risked all they had left was right—the being, the creator, was indeed bound to grant the desire of someone, so long as it met the equilibrium of the universe. That lightness was almost overwhelming, but so was the realization of what the next part of their wish had been staked on.
If this realm didn't exist, neither of us would have had to die. If we correct this paradox, our lives will be intact again… right?
She wasn't sure if the brightness of the empty void around them was a good thing... or not. The incredible buoyancy of her body was disorientating—was she dead, or was this another dream in which his idea had actually worked? But she felt alright, and if she could hear him... that had to be a good thing, right? But it feels... The sensation of collapse; not inside her body, but around it, was imminent and crushing, and Lightning realized that the lightness of her body wasn't just arbitrary—it was carrying her somewhere.
"Hey… Light?"
Light?
"D'you still feel the way you did when I first got here? I mean, when you told me that I'd better not make you regret your decision to let me come along with you?" That's… He remembered something… from so long ago.
It was a long time before she found the inner equilibrium to reply. "No. I don't regret it. Because you showed me… what life should've been like, the mistakes I've made, and what I really should've believed in. I won't forget what living was like in the past, but…" But I want to know what it really is. You convinced me of that. "And… 'Light'? Where did that come from?"
She heard his familiar chuckle. "Well, I hoped you wouldn't mind if I shortened your name. 'Lightning' is kind of a mouthful. Do you?"
No. Because this is the sort of thing you told me about… the things that make life worth living. You never stopped believing in hope, even when I told you that it didn't exist, did you? And maybe it's because you always believed… that you finally convinced me.
The buoyant feel of her body, like she could have reached up into the sky, plucked the moon from its celestial perch, and tossed it as easily as a leaf, was fading. There were other weights that pressed down upon her shoulders now, ones that were tied to some inexplicit gravity and she could feel their heaviness increasing. "I still want to meet you. Wherever we're going." Those words echoed in her mind, before the question had formed, without her really thinking about it. "Meet me… where I first met you."
In the increasing darkness, that was something tangible she could hold on to.
Leaf green dapples of summer created shifting shades of viridian in the heat of the park. The sound of children laughing, splashing in the fountain not a hundred yards away was music to his ears. It's been such a long time since I've heard such a happy sound. Even the initial relief of being back, of knowing that their conjoined wish had indeed created the thing they'd wanted it to, couldn't compare to the overwhelming sense of serenity that this place gave him.
Slowing his walk slightly, Hope stood by the burnished bronze statue in the middle of the park, trying to pretend that he wasn't interested in the summer sunshine, but in reality, he was growing more and more nervous by the minute. Would she even remember? In the faltering consciousness in the remaining vestiges of his body's lightness, he couldn't even be sure she'd even heard. But it doesn't matter. Because she's changed who I am. Without meeting her, I never would've realized how ridiculously lucky I was. Without meeting her, I would have never appreciated everything I had.
A pair of warm hands came to rest on his shoulder blades, just like the way he'd done for someone else under a stained crimson sky in what now felt like lifetimes ago.
"I've been waiting for you to keep your promise."
Equilibrium, a Hoperai oneshot for LadyAlaska, H-thar, and That One Reviewee.
