Hey. Thanks for reading! This is my very first fanfic so (constructive) reviews would be appreciated. :D R&R! Hope (no pun intended) you enjoy this fic.
Call him pathetic.
The kids taunt him, grab his food box and run away. They leave him alone on the playground with no one but the wind to be his friend, to dry the defiant tears sneaking down his face.
Call him geeky.
He rests his elbow on the desk, a stray strand of silver hair covering his left eye. Numbers run through his head as he scribbles his answer triumphantly on the fresh, white sheet of paper. Suddenly aware of the rare silence, he glances up and realizes no one is around. Alone with only the echoes of the empty classroom, he shrugs and continues, oblivious to the 'Kick Me' sign taped to his back.
Call him disobedient.
He winces as his father inflicts stroke after stroke on his bare back. He tries to stand up straight as the force of the hit threatens to make him fall over. With every hit, his determination weakens and finally he falls to the ground with a groan. His mother rushes forward to hold back his father, preventing him from causing any more pain.
His heart tightens. Getting up slowly, he glances up at his father's face. A face he has never seen smile. A sudden rush of hatred wells up inside him. Hatred for his weakness. Hatred for those who bullied him. Hatred for his father. He looks back down and can do nothing but stay silent.
Call him abandoned.
He watches, watches as he sees the only person who has truly ever loved him leave his side. He reaches out to stop her, only to grasp air. He watches, watches as she looks back, not knowing that would be the last time he would ever see her face. And finally, he watches, watches as she tumbles to her death, leaving his life forever. Leaving him all alone. He panicks, the sound of his ragged breathing the only thing reminding him that yes, his Mom was gone and no, it wasn't just a bad dream he would wake up from.
Call him unwanted.
Lightning glances back at him with obvious annoyance as he struggles to keep up with her inhumane pace. He knows he is the extra baggage, the one nobody wants to get left with, the last guy to be picked. No matter, he thinks. I'm used to it anyway. Hope continues walking, ignoring the tightness in his throat.
Call him a leader.
"Actually, why don't you let me take point."
What did he just say? He stared down back at the floor, ashamed to even think that he thought Lightning (ever-so-strong-Lightning) would let him (ever-so-weak-Hope) take point. He was about to apologize when Lightning interrupted him.
"Can you handle it?"
The question confronted him as his doubt begun to set in. Flashes of past failures appeared before his eyes. The teasing. The bullying. The inability.
In a split second he decided. Pushing his past aside, he rushed forward, ready to take on the future.
"It's not a matter of can or can't."
Bring it on.
Call him loved.
Hope swallowed before stepping forward.
"The world is full of lies, there's no way of knowing what's right. All we can do is believe in ourselves."
He paused for a moment, and thought for a while before continuing.
"It's easy to sit back and let people trick you… From here on out, I'll use my eyes, think and act. I may not make all the right choices, but as long as I'm the one who decides what to do, there's nothing to regret."
Looking up, his gaze met the smiling faces of his friends. He smiled back and for the first time in a long while, felt loved.
Call him a teaser.
The wind blew gently. It carried the smells of grass, flowers and other Pulsian trademarks.
He directed his gaze towards his carrot-topped friend and said as seriously as he could: "Do me a favour? Keep on smiling. It makes me happy when you smile."
Vanille's cheeks reddened. She turned away, obviously embarrassed.
"I... I didn't know you felt that way!"
Hope could take it no longer. He burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha, your face!"
"Y-You mean you were joking?"
"Now we're even!"
He ran off with an irritated Vanille hot on his heels, unaware that an amused Fang was watching from behind the nearby cliff.
Call him Hope.
Because that is what he is. Hope realises that now, as he sees the faces of his comrades, each of them relying on him in some way. Sure, he may never be a jock, nor be perfect. But he finally knows where he belongs and what he is. He belongs here- with the people he has grown to love.
And who he is? Hope.