spiral; au-ish kinda. based on the prompt "One half of your OTP is a photographer and keeps seeing the same person in their photos…but no one recognizes them."

Even though Hope was without a doubt the top scientist on his research team, one of his favorite hobbies was photography, a fact that usually surprised people. He supposed that the image of a photographer was seen as someone who looked 'artsy' or maybe wore a lot of black.

That wasn't at all the case for him, though. Sure, his camera was an extremely expensive sort – especially because it was an old film camera and nobody sold those anywhere anymore – but it was nothing more than a hobby to him, and not exactly a lifestyle. Maybe that was why people were so shocked.

It didn't matter to him. On days off, he enjoyed taking his camera out around town and taking photos of random sights or crowds of people he found interesting. He didn't really have a particular niche, because it was just for fun. He did, however, try to put thought into every photo, though this was mostly because film was so damn expensive and had to be specially ordered online. It always seemed to come really quickly, at least.

Hope usually kept the pictures to himself, but the people that did see them would comment that he had a good eye. His friend Noel in particular was consistently impressed with his photos…but then again, Noel could barely take a photo himself without cutting someone's head off, so maybe that was why.

"The colors in this are really nice," Noel said, flipping through a batch of Hope's latest efforts. "It looks like someone that should be in a magazine. Or that you edited it on a computer."

"Like you'd know anything about that," Hope teased. Noel was notoriously technologically impaired, to the point where he'd often joke that he was a nomad in a past life.

"Yeah, yeah." Noel set the photos out on the coffee table in front of him. "But seriously, these are awesome. You should consider trying to sell them somewhere."

"Perhaps." But Hope knew he never would. This was too much fun and too relaxing for him to ever consider it as anything more than a hobby.

"At least put them online or something. You oughta show these to people besides me and your mom."

"How'd you know I show them to her?"

"Because you tell her everything."

"…" As if Hope could argue with the truth. "I don't know. Maybe." This conversation was going in complete circles. "But I've got some new rolls of film coming in tomorrow, so I guess I'll head out somewhere this weekend. Do you feel like coming with me?"

"Nahhh. Yeul and I are going out."

"Oh?" Hope smiled. "It's getting serious between you two, isn't it?"

"I think so." A gentle smile formed on Noel's face, one he only got when he thought about sweet, gentle girl he'd been dating for quite some time now. Though Hope had yet to meet her, it was easy to tell how much those two cared for each other. It'd apparently been instant chemistry between them, as though they'd known each other their whole lives.

Though he had little time for a dating life of his own, Hope had to admit that he was a bit jealous. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to be so besotted by someone. The only thing he felt when he thought about romance was a weird, inexplicable lurch in his chest.

"Congrats," he finally said, patting Noel's shoulder. "You'll keep me posted if anything changes, right?"

"Yeah, 'cause you live vicariously through me, right?" Noel was laughing.

"No," Hope protested, though it was sort of true. "I just want to be supportive, is all."

"I know." Noel grinned. "And you're awesome for it." He stared down at the photos on the table. "But you'd be more awesome if you shared these with the world…"

Hope rolled his eyes. "In your dreams."

–

One of Hope's favorite places to bring his camera was to a rather touristy park – it had a lot of attractions, but one that had always stood out to him was a giant sculpture made of some sort of material that looked like crystal. It was intricately carved with curves and spikes that always brilliantly caught the light.

Though the plaque near the front of the sculpture read Ode to Cocoon, there was no artist name or any other identifying information. In fact, nobody seemed to know where it had come from or what it was referencing, but it had never been torn down because it was a fairly notable tourist attraction. Plus, it was incredible to look at.

Hope was glad for the sculpture for many reasons, one being that it was a great place for photos…but also because he always got the strangest feeling when he looked at it, as if he was supposed to know what it meant and like he'd seen something like it before. Maybe that was what really drew him to it, like he was supposed to be there.

Oh, well. Whatever the case, it was an excellent place for photos. That was all that really mattered to him.

He knelt down – out of the way of the tourists who were moseying around – and glanced through the viewfinder of his camera, messing with the lens. It'd be kind of interesting to have the crystal sculpture a bit blurred in the background while something in the foreground was the focus, he thought. He settled on a bunch of nearby roses, setting up the shot.

Click.

Hopefully that'd be a good one. Hope didn't particularly like to waste film taking dozens of shots – especially since the film was so expensive – so he usually just crossed his fingers that they'd turn out like he wanted.

Nearer to the statue, there was someone busking with a guitar in hand, strumming a quiet tune and humming something that pricked in the back of Hope's mind like it was familiar, even though he was fairly sure it wasn't. Whatever the case, he walked a bit closer, framing the guitar player and adjusting the lens.

…Only for a woman with rose-colored hair to appear near the sculpture.

Hope gasped sharply and nearly dropped his camera. When he looked around, though, there was no sign of anyone like that.

He dared to raise the camera again, holding his breath.

Nothing.

He snapped the picture, wondering why his hands were shaking. After dropping a couple of dollars in the hat the guitar player was using to collect donations, Hope decided that it was time for a lunch break, even though it was barely mid-morning.

He didn't know anyone with rose-colored hair.

So why was his heart pounding like he did?

–

It might have been weird, but Hope's favorite part about the whole photography hobby was developing his photos – not necessarily because he was dying to see the fruits of his labor, but simply because he liked the exact science behind it. Maybe it was the scientist in him, but he always got a weird thrill dealing with all the chemicals involved.

Since he lived alone, it'd been easy to create his own darkroom to develop his photos. He typically spent a good amount of time in there after finishing a roll of film – it wasn't uncommon for Noel or his mother to call during the evening and ask where he'd been all day. Hope didn't really mind, because he never viewed the day as a waste. It was something he enjoyed doing, after all.

Luckily for him, it was always more enjoyable when the photos came out well, and this particular batch was looking to be a good one. He smiled to himself as he hung the first few from the roll up to dry with practiced hands. Maybe Noel was right and he should try and sell some of these to magazine. Or perhaps he could make a blog or something, though the pictures would probably lose a lot of their quality unless he invested in a good scanner…

Hours later (after researching some of those scanners), he came to collect his new photos from the darkroom, bringing them out to his living room so he could see them properly in the light. He always set aside the best ones to show his friends and family, and the rest…well, best not to think about those duds.

Hope flipped through the first couple of photos, smiling to himself. Not bad, he thought, though he was hardly an expert. At least he wasn't his own worst critic. Yet.

As he went through the many photos he'd taken at the crystal sculpture, he began to notice something odd - something that made his heart pound and his palms sweat, though whether it was from nerves or excitement or something else entirely, even he didn't know.

He needed to talk to Noel.

–

"Whoa, Hope, these are awesome." Noel scanned the photos, familiar compliments clearly on the edge of his tongue. "Seriously, man, you could get whoever owns that area with that sculpture to print these. I bet they'd do it."

"Noel - " Hope didn't even want to bother to thank him or anything. His heart was still pounding too hard and it was making him dizzy. "Look. Don't you notice anything odd about these?"

"Am I supposed to?"

With a frustrated noise, Hope took the photos and spread them out on the coffee table. "Now do you see it?"

"No…?"

"Here. And here, here, here, and here." Hope swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as he pointed out what he'd somehow noticed in every one of these particular photos, even if it was far in the background.

A woman with rose-colored hair.

"…Huh." Noel scratched his head. "I guess that's a little weird, but that's a tourist spot. Maybe she was, you know, a tourist."

"I don't remember seeing her, though." Liar.

But if he told Noel about this mysterious woman randomly appearing and disappearing, Noel would definitely assume he was completely crazy.

"So what? We see tons of people out of the corners of our eyes every day. We don't necessarily remember all of them."

"I know. But…" Hope's gaze went back to the photos. The woman wasn't smiling in any of them – her lips were set in a line, like she was seeing something she didn't quite approve of. One look at her and you couldn't help but think stoic, even though that somehow didn't sit right with him.

"But what?"

"I just…" Okay, he'd take a chance on Noel thinking he was crazy. "I feel like I should know her."

You do.

Noel suddenly burst out laughing, startling Hope out of whatever stupor his mind had been in. "Oh, man. I really think you need to find a girlfriend. Or at least go on a date." Hope felt a hand clap on his shoulder. "Should I see if Yeul knows anyone I can set you up with?"

"No." He was surprised at the animosity behind that word, and managed to calm himself down a second later. "No…thank you. I think I'll just leave the romance to you too."

"I'm fine with that." Noel's brow furrowed a second later. "Are you okay, though? You look kind of pale." He gestured to the photos. "It's not because of this, right?"

"I…don't know." Hope ran a hand through his hair. "I think I'll just turn in early tonight. Maybe I'm just tired."

"You do that." Noel nodded in approval and stood up. "Let me know if you change your mind on my offer, okay?"

Hope's eyes had gone back to his photos. "What offer?"

"To see if Yeul knows somebody?"

"Oh." He snapped his gaze away. "I'll let you know, but I doubt I'll change my mind."

"We'll see about that." Noel grinned. "But seriously, go get some rest. You probably need it."

Yeah, Hope thought after he'd walked his friend out and he was alone again. Compulsion drew his eyes to the pictures again, his stare landing on the rose-haired woman. I clearly do.

–

For the next couple of weeks, every time Hope went out to do errands or anything, he kept his eyes peeled for someone with rose-colored hair and always felt oddly downtrodden when he'd return home unsuccessful. Given Noel's reaction to when he'd pointed the woman out in the photos, Hope thought it was best not to mention this to anyone else…not that he had many people to confide in, really.

Sometimes he wondered about that, why it was so hard for him to feel close to people. At times, it felt like there was some sort of physical barrier between himself and anyone else. Even Noel wasn't that close of a friend, though he certainly got along with the guy very well. His coworkers were always nice enough. He was fairly close with his parents, especially his mother, though he hadn't seen her in person since he was a very young man. His job was fulfilling and he lived in a beautiful home, wanting for nothing. It just…

It felt like something was missing.

Or rather…someone.

Strange how these thoughts hadn't occurred to him at all until seeing the photos with the mysterious woman. Perhaps she was trying to tell him something.

But it was probably best not to mention that to anyone, either.

–

When his new rolls of film arrived a few days later, Hope couldn't load his camera quickly enough. Usually he liked to save them for weekends when he was feeling inspired, but today, he couldn't get out to the park fast enough, even though he was exhausted and probably would've done better staying at home for the day.

He made his way through the modest crowd and stared up at the Ode to Cocoon statue. It amazed him that some people would just walk by it like it wasn't even there, though why he cared if anyone showed respect to a mysterious sculpture was beyond him.

Hope lifted the camera to his eye, pointing it upwards. The sun's rays caught the crystal perfectly, in a way that made rainbows dance around. Click.

The moment he'd snapped the photo, the rose-haired woman appeared, sitting on top of the statue with her legs crossed.

A startled noise escaped him and Hope stumbled a few steps backwards, nearly dropping his camera and crashing into someone in the process.

"Whoa, there!" A hand reached out to grip Hope's shoulder, steadying him. "You all right?"

"Y-Yeah." Hope dared a look at the top of the statue…but there was no one there. Of course. He cleared his throat, turning to the person he'd nearly knocked over. "I'm so sorry. I think I just…tripped."

"Yeah, I feel you. Two left feet and all." The man grinned, patting Hope's shoulder. He had dark skin and friendly enough expression. "No harm done though, right?"

"Right…" Hope trailed off, blinking a few times as he really took in the appearance of the stranger. "I…I'm sorry, but – do I know you?"

"Huh?" The man rubbed the back of his neck. "Can't say you look too familiar. Maybe if I'd met you ten years ago."

"…What?"

"Though it's gotta be more than ten now. Ah, memories." He shook his head, grabbing the hand of a young boy. "Come on, Dajh."

Hope was so confused that it was a good thirty seconds before he thought to call out after the guy, but by then, it was too late. The crowd had swallowed him.

Impulsively, he snapped another photo of where the man had stood, even though the picture would no doubt make zero sense and look like a mistake. Maybe he just wanted proof that someone had been there.

And sure enough, when he developed the photos later that night after burning through the entire roll of film quicker than he ever had before, there was someone standing in the crowd – but it wasn't the dark-skinned man.

It was the rose-haired woman, staring at him with a plea in her eyes, as she was in nearly every single other photo.

But he had no idea what she was asking.

–

Over the next few weeks, Hope started falling into a vicious cycle. He'd order dozens of rolls of film – with overnight shipping, like his budget wasn't already in enough trouble – and go to the park, snapping random photos in hopes of seeing the rose-haired woman. Sometimes she would appear in the viewfinder or in his peripheral vision, but never for more than a second or two at a time.

It was why he had to take all of these photos. He had to see her. If that meant spending hours and hours in his darkroom after using up all his film to watch the photos develop, so be it. His world had dwindled to the Cocoon statue and his darkroom, and that was just fine with him.

But not so much for other people.

He didn't show up to work for two weeks and was now on probation. Who cared? What was some silly job compared to the task of finding her? Even eating and sleeping seemed like silly, pointless tasks. It somehow felt like he could have done neither and still survived.

Was he dreaming?

No, because in a dream, Noel wouldn't have let himself in, and yet there he was, staring at the living room – which had photos strewn all over the floor – with a horrified expression.

"Hope…" He carefully stepped over a pile of pictures, though it wouldn't have mattered if they'd gotten stomped on since the rose-haired woman wasn't in those. "You haven't been answering my calls or texts for weeks. Are you…" He looked around. "…Are you okay?"

"Fine," was Hope's immediate answer. Of course he was fine; or at least he would be if he could develop this new roll of film already. Hopefully Noel wasn't about to try and impede his progress – not that there was much that could've stopped him at this point. He had this down to a perfect science: develop the photos, look through them, order more film, and go out with his camera. Rinse and repeat, over and over and over…

"You sure about that, man? You look kind of…"

"I'm perfectly fine, Noel."

"Then how come you haven't been answering any of my calls or texts?"

"I haven't noticed them." Hope didn't care how, well, uncaring he sounded. Nothing was more important than his mission.

"Seriously?" Noel's frown was obvious in his voice. "What have you been doing, then?"

"Photos."

"I can see that." There was a noise that sounded like Noel was flipping through some of those pictures, and when Hope turned around, his friend's brow was furrowed. "Are these…are you following this woman? With the pink hair?"

Hope immediately stomped over and yanked the photos Noel had been holding out of his hands. "That's none of your concern."

"Is that why you're freaking? I mean, just look at all of this." Noel gestured at the messed up state of the room. "You're spiraling completely out of control. This woman's a lie. She's no Savior."

For whatever reason, Hope's heart skipped a beat, and then started racing like he'd been running a mile. "…What did you say?"

Noel's frown deepened. "I said that you don't even know who this woman is, do you? Why all of…" he gestured around the photos strewn all over the room, "…this?"

All of a sudden, all Hope wanted to do was be alone. "As I said, it's none of your concern. You can leave now."

"What?!"

"You heard me." Hope turned to head back to his darkroom – several prints were surely dry by now.

There was a low, muttered curse followed by the sound of the front door slamming. Good. Noel was gone and now Hope could continue to…to…

What was he doing? His friend had brought up a valid point – this was getting entirely out of hand and spiraling out of control. Maybe he should go back to work – if he still had a job, that was – and find some time to get out of the city…

But as he slipped into his darkroom and saw a print of the rose-haired woman, staring at him through the photo with piercing blue eyes, all traces of any previous thoughts vanished.

She was what was important, and nothing else.

–

There were ghosts all over, beckoning him out of of the corner of his eyes. They only appeared when he went to the Ode to Cocoon and none of them ever spoke, nor could he ever see them through his camera lens.

But he knew they were there – the two women with their hands clasped, as though they'd been doing just that for an eternity. The intimidating-looking man with a glow in his chest and a devilish smirk. The man that he could've sworn he'd seen in the mass of tourists at some point, with his fists always clenched and his eyes full of despair. There was even another girl with pink hair, though the shade was all wrong. She was the hardest ghost to see, as though she was hiding and didn't want anyone to notice her.

As far as Hope was concerned, though, they were all inconsequential. He ignored the twist in his gut that suggested otherwise, because everything had be focused on the rose-haired woman.

This was already his thirteenth roll of film this weekend. It all proved to be worth it when he stood near the crystal statue and peered through the viewfinder, seeing her standing just a few feet away from him.

Hope didn't snap the shutter – not yet. He was content to just stare for a minute. She stared right back, her gaze somehow longing and terrified and seductive all at once.

And then she stretched out her arm, as though reaching for him.

He nearly dropped the camera during his startled gasp. Though the rose-haired woman always stared at him or would turn her eyes to him, she'd never made any other gesture – it was as though she was frozen in place, or maybe she'd just known to keep still for photos. But now…

When he lowered the camera, she vanished among the crowd of people. He hurriedly looked through the viewfinder again, and she reappeared as though by magic, still reaching out for him.

Slowly, Hope took a few steps, still holding the camera to his face. The expression on the…phantom's face – because what else could she be but that? - didn't waver until he was only a foot or so away.

The closer he got, he realized, the more pleading the look in her eyes became. Hope was too enraptured to try and figure out what it could possibly mean.

And then -

"Hope."

The moment the rose-haired phantom said his name, Hope clicked the shutter. Instantly, he felt as though he was blinded by a flash of light, though he hadn't had the mechanism on.

Everything slowed to one perfect, breathless moment of an utter standstill. The camera all but disintegrated from his fingertips until he was holding on to nothing but air. People around him slowly faded away into the chaotic darkness, their echoing screams ringing in his ears.

But he could not move. He was completely frozen in the moment, helpless to do anything but watch.

Perhaps Noel had been right and he truly was spiraling out of any sort of control.

Throughout all of this, the rose-haired woman continued to watch him, though she gradually moved to sit down with her legs crossed. Still, she was reaching out to him, her gaze unwavering. What did she want him to do?

"Hope."

The time that passed before he was able to respond could have been a few seconds or an eternity – he wasn't quite sure. "I…"

"Wake up."

It felt like those words had been spoken to him once before a very long time ago, but he couldn't place it. Now, however, the tone was urgent and anxious, so he did the only thing he could do.

He opened his eyes.

For a minute, it felt like he couldn't breathe, as though his body had to remember how his heart and lungs worked, but then he took a huge gasp of a breath, wide eyes taking in his surroundings. He was in what looked like a grand building that gave the impression of some long, otherworldly age. A pile of dust was at his feet – but a quick stare proved it to be no ordinary dust.

It was crystal dust.

And when he looked up from it, he knew it had to have come from him and not anyone else, because the person seated on the throne in front of him was crystallized.

Someone he knew very, very well.

"Lightning!"

His voice was scratchy from disuse, but he didn't care. Hope practically stumbled over to Lightning's crystallized form, his hands moving to cup her unnaturally smooth face.

The rose-haired phantom.

How had he not known? Hadn't they both been dreaming in crystal? He realized an instant later that she'd been trying to send him clues through the photos he'd taken during his crystal dream. For some reason, even though they'd been crystallized here together – he recalled it happened after he'd found Lightning like this. Though he still was no longer a l'cie, someone - or something - had encased him in crystal as well, for whatever reason. Perhaps…they hadn't wanted him to get away.

Lightning had been trying to warn him.

"Light," he gasped, his fingers running over her crystal face. "I don't know what's happening. You need to wake up. Please."

Her lips didn't move, but he could have sworn he could hear her voice.

"Hope. Run."

That was the last thing he heard before the light of an Almighty God touched him and everything went black.

Thank you all for your kind reviews! They really do mean a lot to me :3