A/N: This little story is another result of my foray into NaNoWriMo last year. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy.

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Lightning's light pink hair rustled against the nape of her neck, trailing down her back and out into the open space behind her as she fought against the wind. Her bangs fell into her face haphazardly and occasionally blew into her eyes, stinging as her hair whipped across them. Behind her, Hope was struggling up the rocky slope. Finding another handhold, she grasped it tightly, hefting herself up another foot.

The wasteland they were currently in was just another place to get through before reaching their destination. If viewed from a logical angle, the view she strove to keep in the forefront of her mind, it was simple: She would travel with Hope from point A to point B, and whatever the in-between consisted of did not matter, as long as they reached point B.

So far, the in-between had consisted of many things. Wide open plains, steep downward slopes, tall grassy areas, and now, steep upward mountains.

She bit back her frustration at Hope's slow pace. She had not planned to be saddled with a kid while going after the fal'Cie. "Keep up," she called back. Part of her knew that if she ditched the kid, her pace would be rewarded. Part of her wanted to. Part of her demanded it: revenge for her sister's life was on the line.

And part of her wanted to help this lost kid find his place. To help him survive. To help Hope grow.

Lightning figured that most would disprove of her encouraging Hope to learn to fight, to toughen up and fight back for himself and what he believed in - even if at the moment that meant he believed in Snow's death.

But without her help he would remain defenseless - that thought frustrated her most of all, and made her justify her actions. And she didn't care what people thought anyway.

Gray rocks and sparse plants lined the steep, uphill slope. She could hear Hope's heavy breathing as he struggled below and behind her. Despite the breeze, the air here felt stagnant. There were few forms of life bringing freshness to the air. There were no animals, few plants, and Lightning was sure that not a single human had traversed this way for many, many years. She grunted when another rock bit into her hand as she pulled herself up.

Reaching a small flat space on the mountain, Lightning stopped to wait for Hope. The kid was sure taking his time.

First, she heard the noisy breaths as he breathed through his nose. Second, she heard the tinkling sound of gravel falling down the hillside as he displaced it with his climbing. Third, she saw his right hand grasp the edge of the ledge, then his left hand, and finally, his face popped into view. She ignored Hope's heaving as he finally pulled himself up over the ledge.

Lightning let him relax for a few minutes, both of them leaning against the mountainside and taking their first break of the day.

"Come on," she eventually said, standing to glance up at the rest of the hill. "We should reach the top before nightfall."

Hope steeled himself for the rest of the hike, letting Lightning take the lead again while he continued to prepare himself. Sweat made his clothes cling uncomfortably and his hands were raw and feet sore from the hiking they had done so far that day. The break had been helpful, necessary even, but not long enough for him. But it didn't matter: he had to continue, he had to follow Lightning, he had to achieve Operation Nora.

He had been priding himself on his independence since his mother died. It was time to grow up, to learn to live on his own, to avenge her death. But with their group divided, and him being left alone with Lightning, he was not so sure about this whole self-reliance thing. Lightning refused to cater to his age and refused to slow their pace. Traveling with her made him realize how little he was prepared for this journey. But he was still determined to continue. He would do this.

Hope watched at Lightning gracefully moved up the hill, taking methodical and sure steps that moved her an increasing distance away from him. Trying to ignore the loose gravel digging into his fingers and the burning muscles in his arms and legs, Hope continued to move up, one step at a time. He was glad his clothes were loose enough to allow the awkward stretching of limbs he was doing today as he climbed: he had a feeling their journey was far from over.

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A/N: I love Hope's determination; he's such a great character. I'm excited to see him again when I finally get my hands on XIII-2!

I'd love a review on this other bit of randomness from NaNoWriMo! :)