"Lightning, what do you want for dinner tonight?" The younger of the Farron sisters asked as she poked her head into the elder's room, unfazed by her brutal chin-ups. It used to throw her off guard how hard her sister worked even after her actual work, but Serah had gotten used to it after three years of constant cursing and loud music coming from Lightning's room.

Light performed one last chin-up, totaling thirty, before letting herself drop to the ground. "Whatever's fine with me— actually, do we have any leftover steak?"

Serah grinned, knowing how much her sister loved meat, "Uh huh, we sure do. I'll go heat that up for us."

The elder rosette have a half-smile before going back to her chin-ups, brushing some hair from her eyes. She was glad she had that bar installed in her room a few months ago; using a tree branch from the tall tree out her window began to get a bit demanding after a while. Amodar recommended she do more physical training outside of her job a few years back after she first joined the Corps, and ever since then the habit had stuck with her. Not that she minded, the training had done wonders for her (already slim) body, adding muscle where she appreciated it being most and boosting her metabolism and height. Eighteen years old and already five foot seven, taller than most other girls in her unit, and even outside the military scene. It was a bit odd, however, being built while her younger sister stayed "soft" and slim— it did match Serah's personality, though, seeing as she was not as tough faced and hardened as Lightning was at that point.

After her twentieth chin-up, she began to smell the inviting aroma of her beloved behemoth steak wafting through her room, and she dropped down from the bar to run to the bathroom to grab a towel. As she rubbed the towel along the back of her neck, Light walked into the kitchen to see Serah setting two plates onto the kitchen counter, steak accompanied by veggies deliciously, and a glass of water to top it off. Something Lightning could gladly say was that she was proud her sister was a great cook.

"It smells great," The elder commented as Serah hopped onto one of the stools by the counter, "as always."

"Of course! It was made by me, what did you expect?" The younger playfully winked as she took a bite out of a chopped carrot, Light taking a seat next to her. "And you need a shower."

Ignoring her sister's last comment, the rosette picked up her fork and took a bite from the gorgeously prepared steak, taking a moment to revel in the tastes and spices that Serah had added the night before. She needed to learn how to make a steak half as well as her sister, it could possibly come in handy while on patrol. "Serah, do you think you could," she finished chewing, "teach me how to make this as well as you do?"

The younger's eyes brightened, and she nodded immediately towards Lightning. It was rare to receive a request from her that was not one about her grades or to stay away from boys, so Serah would take this opportunity without a sliver of hesitation. A chance for possible sisterly bonding was not something she would want to miss out on— that, and seeing Light burn herself while cooking is very entertaining.

"Of course I can! I can show you on your next day off!"

Lightning woke not as suddenly as she anticipated; her eyes simply opened and she found herself staring at the ceiling of the hotel they had checked themselves into hours before. The sky was still dark, stars glittering and crescent moon hanging by the clouds, so she guessed it was either very late or extremely early. Looking to her left, she saw a snoring Snow asleep on the couch, hair mussed and covering his eyes as a light green blanket barely reached his torso, and a softly sleeping Hope who had fallen asleep much more gracefully than the blonde, and instead had taken the bed next to Light's. The rosette idly remembered Fang saying she had things to wrap up back at her gang's hideout, and that she would join them in the morning.

The young woman rubbed her eyes, shifting to lie on her side to face the wall. The memory had been random, it was one that she hardly remembered. She clearly remembered the cooking lesson afterwards, however, as she cannot forget the several burn marks she received from the stove, but the memory before hardly crossed her mind at all now. Any memory of Serah caused a pang of guilt to hit Lightning, so she tried not to remember too much— but she could not stop her dreams from bringing up such memories. She was relieved it was not a nightmare, seeing as those had been recent after the l'cie situation. Nightmares of Serah never waking up from crystal stasis, of her running away with Snow for good, of herself dying while trying to protect Serah had plagued her mind before, but after a year they had died down. She hated them; feeling weak and shaken had never been enjoyable for the soldier. She was always the strong one, the tough girl who would not let a few nightmares get to her, but when they involved her young sister, they very much did get to her.

Not to say she did not have good dreams, before. She had dreamed of Fang and Vanille waking up from their crystal stasis in the past, or grilling the best steak in all of Cocoon (impressing even Serah, mind you), and even one of an older Hope, somewhere, working hard on developing some type of object for another generation. Usually with that dream comes bits and pieces of another common nightmare; one of a man in purple and an endless battle— she did not pay attention to that fighting part as much as she did to the older Hope bit. But more recently, Light would simply sleep without any dreams or nightmares, which was not entirely a bad thing. She would rather not experience anything than to wake up with her eyes wet and hands clutching the sheets.

After a few more minutes of thinking, she promptly fell back into an uneventful sleep.

Hope's eyes were screwed shut, his hands clutching at the sheets around him as his dreams went haywire. It was a giant mass of fireworks, a woman who heavily resembled his mother, and, surprisingly enough, Lightning and Snow, along with Fang and a few others he was sure he knew.

But, from what he could tell with the jumbled up words and phrases was that he was younger when this happened. He felt younger in the dreams, almost a child yet on the brink of becoming a man, the fine line between the two. He could see his mother, falling from a crumbling bridge before finally meeting her end, he remembered screaming in agony as he had no choice but to watch, to see the man responsible for letting her die— Snow. He could feel the anger, the passion for revenge bubbling inside him, and as the memories flickered and flipped like pages in a book, he was brought to one between himself and Lightning. She handed him her blade, the same one he had in his office earlier, and the touch of the material felt the same, but the emotions were worlds apart. He felt stronger, wiser, and a newfound admiration and warmth for the rose-haired woman. He felt the injuries from battles, the little victories and defeats, the rough feel of a boomerang beneath his fingertips.

A redhead, Vanille, he guessed, gave him advice, helped him to get back on his feet. Her kindness only encouraged him to push himself harder; to become mature and to grow up from his sheltered life. Snow's forgiveness nearly sent him to tears, yet he kept them inside to look as tough as him, to become as hardened as him. The sights, the strange yet amazing animals he came across, the vast, green plains and bright blue skies combined with the final events of the dream. Of a cold, dark, desolate place. Someplace he could not place, and he was sure neither could the others if he were to ask. Then, the light hit him, a warmth that he had never experienced, and he felt crystal shards melting away as he walked on the plains of Gran Pulse once again. The shining pillar, the brief sadness replaced with comfort as he looked towards Lightning again were the last things he saw before he finally opened his eyes.

He wanted to shut them again and relive it all.

"Fang, will you stop hiding behind Snow?" Lightning nagged towards her friend for the

umpteenth time that day, dragging the Pulsian away from the taller blonde.

The brunette laughed, albeit nervously, and rubbed the back of her neck, "I wasn't hidin', Light. I was just. . ."

"Hiding."

"You would be, too, if you were about to see your ex for the first time in ages!"

Hope, Snow and Lightning had woken up at the hotel and gotten themselves ready to face another challenging day, Fang arriving a few hours after breakfast. She explained exactly what went on between her and Vanille, why they broke up and why they simply broke contact completely for over two years. They had been together for over four years before the break up, having known each other since they were kids growing up in New Zealand. However, Fang began to get involved with her mafia business around the same time Vanille began to experience symptoms of depression— masking her pain, putting on a happy facade in front of the camera, and most of all cutting her wrists. Fang would not have any of that, and tried to convince the redhead that the modeling business was killing her, but the younger would not listen to a word, and eventually, her company ordered for Vanille to get rid of all ties with her, stating it was because of her role in the mafia. Vanille, obviously helpless in the decision, promptly did just that, but not before telling Fang the real reason for the break up. The elder of the two understood, and decided it would be best for them not to contact each other for a while, if only to protect Vanille.

"She's not technically your ex," Snow chimed in, "you didn't really break up. I mean, you two still have feelings for each other, right?"

"Well. . ." Fang stuffed her hands in her pockets, kicking a stray pebble across the busy sidewalk they had found themselves in on their way to Vanille's hotel. "I don't know if she's found someone else, someone with just as much money and fame— better than a mafia leader."

Both Snow and Lightning nearly groaned, while Hope simply sighed and shook his head. Placing a hand on her shoulder, the ever wise silver-haired man replied, "Fang, you're being irrational about this. From what I remember, Vanille and you were inseparable, there's no way she could have found someone else in such a short time period."

"Hope's right, you two were bound by something stronger than family," Lightning added, brushing some rose bangs from her eyes, "don't be so dramatic."

After weaving themselves through crowds and nearly getting bit by cars trying to cross the road ("What? You wimpy Americans don't jaywalk?") the four finally reached their destination of Vanille's hotel, the glamorous Langham hotel. Compared to the people walking out of the hotel, the four looked like mere peasants in their jeans and simple tops, Hope being a bit of an exception due to his "high-maintenance" standards of clothing he had brought with him. Lightning dragged a slightly trembling Fang into the lobby, it's gorgeous setting not throwing the soldier off one bit as they found the front desk.

A rather bright and bubbly brunette stood behind the desk, typing away furiously and filing away papers before noticing the bunch, "Oh, hiya! Welcome to the Langham hotel! What can I do for you?"

Lightning briefly noticed her name tag that read "Lina" before getting down to business, "We're here to see Vanille Dia, we're personal friends."

She tucked some brown strands behind her ear, clicking around in her computer before replying, "Miss Dia is on floor forty-four, room thirteen. Hope you have a terrific day!"

The rosette thanked her quickly before grabbing the men's attention away from more models that seemed to be getting their bags together while in their photoshoot outfits ("You're engaged, Snow!") and taking an elevator right as its doors were closing. Fang was visibly nervous now, fidgeting with her brown, leather jacket's sleeve and wringing her hands as the numbers climbed up and up, the elevator giving them a beautiful view of New Zealand and all the busy patrons below.

Light noticed Hope's closed eyes and almost equal nervous fidgeting, "Hope, are you. . .okay?"

His sea green eyes popped open, "Huh? Oh— oh yeah, I'm fine. . . just the," he averted his eyes from hers, a slight redness to his cheeks appearing as he said the word, "height."

Yes, she thought finally, this version of Hope was much more different than the Hope she knew. Stifling a laugh, she only patted his shoulder, "Director, I don't know if you've realized this, but you are tall yourself."

"Light, that's different, and you know it."

"Snow is at least a foot taller than you and he's fine with heights."

"Snow obviously isn't humanly normal," Hope crossed his arms, fully facing away from the view, "Remember when he survived that fall from, what, forty feet?"

"Hey," the blonde interrupted, "We were l'cie back then, we could survive, like, anything."

"Speaking' of l'cie, sunshine, ya still got your mark where it was?" Fang flashed a knowing grin, laughing when the rosette moved to hurry the elevator up by mashing the button furiously while muttering under her breath.

The elevator came too slowly for Lightning, and by the time it had arrived at the desired floor her face was a bright tomato red, Snow and Fang snickering like ten-year-olds at immature jokes they had conjured up. The hallway was empty, each door closed shut and seemed a tad spooky as they made their way to room thirteen, doors and numbers whizzing past them as their eyes looked for Vanille's room.

Fang shouldn't felt as nervous as she did— for God's sake, a mafia leader was nervous over seeing her ex, what else could make this situation any more ridiculous?— but her heart kept hammering against her ribcage as the numbers on the doors counted down to thirteen. The shiny, gold numbers were encrusted into the pure white doors, and they seemed to almost scream at her to leave. To get over Vanille, to move on and find someone else. And it was not as if the woman hadn't tried to, she had a few flings here and there, but none of them had that same spark, the same connection as with the redhead. It was not something she could control, her desire to see and hold Vanille again, it was almost natural, as if they had known each other for centuries. When the two had first met, despite how sappy this would sound, it was love at first sight. Both felt a familiarity towards the other, and they had hit it off immediately. Vanille's bubbly attitude and bright optimism contrasted with Fang's sarcasm and realistic pessimism, and she was so sure that Vanille's hands were almost made for hers to hold, the way they fit so perfectly.

The rest of them waited for Fang to take a step forward and knock on the door, and when a little over two minutes had passed, Lightning took a breath and gently, hesitantly, put a hand on the Australian's shoulder. She remembered helping Fang out in an almost similar situation; she didn't know what to do next, nothing was there to help or guide her. But with just a simple gesture, the Pulsian was back on her feet, new objective in mind. Their eyes met for the briefest second, before the elder of the two finally took a step and, shakily, knocked on the door.

The sound of someone nearly tripping, along with a high-pitched "Coming!" was their answer. The sound of several locks coming undone followed, before finally, the door swung open, and there stood a short, petite young woman. Her red-hued hair was tied back into two ponytails, a bathrobe covered her torso while she donned soft green sweatpants and her bright green eyes seemingly ignoring everyone but the person standing front and center. It took a few seconds for the younger to realize who was standing in front of her, at her doorstep, looking as rugged and beautiful as she remembered.

Her voice was shaky, "F-Fang?"

The Oerban swallowed thickly. "H-Hey, 'Nille. Long time no see, eh?"

"I don't. . .I didn't think you still. . ." her voice trailed off, heat gathering at her cheeks. "What are you doing here? Who're they?"

"Well," a hand went up to rub the back of her neck as she nervously laughed, "it's a long story. Ya got any time to spare?"

Vanille could only nod and welcome them in.

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