Snow
New Bodhum, 8 AF
Snow had been sitting at his desk finishing up some contracting paperwork, absently listening to a television report on storms over the Archylte Steppe. At the mention of the word "lightning", he was instantly reminded of the last time he saw his sister-in-law.
It had been about four months ago, on the same day as Hope's promotion ceremony. Serah had asked if they could get to the Academy Headquarters early so they could take one of the guided tours and catch a glimpse of Lightning's crystal. Snow had agreed, of course. He could hardly refuse his wife anything and besides, he wanted to see Lightning for himself.
They booked a tour for noon. Snow had barely paid any attention to the guide unless it was about Hope. At any mention of his name, Serah would squeeze Snow's hand excitedly. Of course, his little brainiac bookworm was rapt with attention. When the guide started his spiel on the history and artifacts of ancient Gran Pulse civilizations, Serah's mouth made an adorable little 'O'. Snow knew Serah's poor students would be getting an earful when they got back to New Bodhum. He almost felt bad for them. Almost. If only he'd had teachers as cute as Serah, he would have done much better in school.
When the tour group had gotten to Lightning's room, the guide flicked on a large black switch by the wall. Snow heard Serah gasp. She looked exactly as she did eight years ago, frozen in a graceful pose. The researchers had put Lightning on some sort of pedestal under high-powered lights. The effect was breathtaking: prisms refracted from every angle and landed on anything they could. Snow and Serah had been showered with tiny rainbow lights.
Serah had started to cry. The tour guide must've noticed because he tactfully moved the rest of the group along to another part of the Headquarters.
Snow had been angry. He clenched his fists and stared at the woman on the pedestal. How dare they put his sister-in-law on display like she was some lifeless statue? How could they shine all these lights on her and allow anyone to walk by and gawk at her naked form? Lightning would never have wanted this. How could Hope have betrayed her?
"Snow?" Serah murmured. "Are you okay?"
Snow had closed his eyes and let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Yeah," he said. "Let's go."
The couple had left before they could finish the rest of the tour. It had only been two o clock and they had almost five hours before having to return to HQ for Hope's ceremony. Snow was ready to turn around, go find Hope, and yell until he was hoarse. He wanted to tell him to take Lightning down and stop treating her like a tourist attraction. But Serah had calmly convinced him not to. She told him Hope would be nervous enough today without Snow busting down his door and yelling at him hours before his big speech. She had also said that the display probably wasn't Hope's idea. "You know how much he cares about her," Serah said. "He'd never do anything to hurt her." She guessed that it wasn't meant to be obscene or tasteless at all, but rather a monument to the woman that had saved more than a million lives.
Snow had relented and agreed to take a walk around Academia instead. The city was well on its way to being as big as Palumpolum and was as busy as an anthill. The sights and sounds and smells provided a welcome distraction for the both of them.
After Hope's ceremony, the new Director had mysteriously disappeared and then resurfaced with a young blonde on his arm and a pained expression on his face. When Snow had inquired as to whether the young woman was "someone we should know about," the poor kid looked nauseous. Snow and Serah had shared a knowing look. It seemed President Villiers had acquired a whole new arsenal of ammunition to use against Director Estheim.
Snow and Hope had been engaged in a good-natured battle of wits since Hope had hit his growth spurt at sixteen. Snow would call Hope a bean pole and Hope would call Snow a behemoth. Hope would make jokes about Snow having to duck through doors and Snow would imply that Hope needed a stepping stool to reach the kitchen sink. Whoever broke into laughter first was the loser and was subjected to a merciless noogie from the victor. Serah thought it was especially hilarious when Hope won and had to jump to grab Snow's neck in the crook of his elbow.
Snow knew the whole ritual was completely immature and really stupid but since meeting Hope all those years ago, he had become something like Snow's little brother. Hope was someone he could tease and noogie, but he was also someone Snow would be proud to call family. Snow's kids would know him as "Uncle Hope."
Snow felt a smile spread across his face. The fact of the matter was Snow Villiers was absolutely happy with his life. He had a great job, a loving wife, a beautiful home, and a family in the making. He had all he ever wanted, except the person who had made that all possible wasn't around.
AN: Seriously, though. Bear with this chapter. It has been, by far, my LEAST favorite to write. It felt OK when I first wrote it, but when I transferred it to the computer, I just hated it. Bleugh. Snow, stop being so difficult to write! Maybe because I don't find him so compelling as a character. Eh. Oh well. Onto some review and responds!
Fansy Fan: I don't think I'd ever show my mom my fic. She'd be like WTF is this? I don't even show her my original fiction. And thank you very much! You go 'head on and ganbatte too!
Hihazuki: YES YES YES! When Snow and the "Time Police" come and get her I was just like "ha! That's what you get for trying to kill my precious bbys." But then she showed up again at Academia! I was so mad. And this chapter is kinda short cuz it was almost painful to write. The next one is longer!
Wynteralchemyst: Dajh's afro brings all the girls to the yard. And his overalls. And I definitely agree with you on the soothing properties of pen on paper. It's like coloring. Or smelling books. Or any of the other odd things that I do. XD
