It's over the space of the next few weeks that things start to make sense to Hope, that all of the stories get to be fleshed out.
After that meal at IHOP with Light where very little was said, and the two refused to make eye contact, she told him on their way back to the beach lookout point that if he wanted to learn more he could take it up with the others. That wounded Hope, and after the anticlimatic meal with too many calories and way too many sugars and carbs he felt flat, dejected. Upon pressing the matter further, she folded her hands while seated in the passenger seat, looked out the window, and muttered something about "it's out of my hands now" and "they can take up the rest." By 'they' Hope understood that Light was referring to the rest of the core group that brought down Bhunivelze's destruction on the old world.
With a clipped goodbye, she is off again on her motorbike, leaving Hope at the beach, alone again. He had received an answer, of a sort, so technically it isn't like Light is backing out of her promise to reveal anything. She did let him know about the tension, and why her and Fang were so heated at his birthday celebration. Now he had the truth. Everything else, from here going forward, he knew, would be speculation and rumor. The old gang understood that Bhunivelze was making strides to come back into this new world and wreak destruction as he had done before-but other than that, no one knew much more. The truth had sprung up more questions than it had answered.
Now that Hope is an adult, the path is set before him. He has to make decisions now based on the knowledge that he learned, and how he wants to go about dealing with it. Should he continue on this Earth-based life, and discard what his friends are doing? Did he want to 'sleep', as Light had referred to it?
Hope sits on the beach after Light leaves, taking a good amount of time for himself to think. He knows that the moment he gets back into his car and leaves the parking lot, he would literally have to decide where to turn, where the rest of his life should go from there. Now that he is no longer innocent to the goings on of his friends, he has to choose whether or not to take an active part in what they are doing.
He still doesn't want to believe that the things that go bump in the night are attributed to some unseen ancient force from another world. His logical brain raised in the current climate of this world can't accept that things like superstition and anything other than cold hard fact could be real. It sounds preposterous, what Light had said, silly.
And then there is the fear. Hope doesn't really want to open that can of worms, those repressed feelings of torment. Whenever he focuses on Bhunivelze, the young man shudders and tamps down uneasy feelings as fast as he can. If he commits to being on the side of opposition, to join the fight for truth and answers with his friends, he can no longer ignore his trace remembrances of pain and suffering. He would have to give in to the pain, to know that it can come back for him again, that he can never really be free.
As the waves crash on the rocks beneath him, and Hope focuses on the pressing matters at hand, he realizes that no matter how he chooses, he can't live in a juxtaposition anymore. The tearing of two worlds is now too great of a burden to carry, after the events of the past few days. And even though the lines of communication are now open between him and his friends and parents, and he has the relief that he isn't alone or crazy, he still has to make his choice of how he wants to stand. Knowing that he will be supported, no matter what direction he chooses, is a balm to soothe him, but he still has to carry the burden of choice nonetheless.
After a while, and after the feeling of warmth from the sun has shifted to different sides of Hope's face on that beach rock, he realizes he doesn't have much of a choice. He can't continue living a lie, and was never really happy living the simply Earthly existence he did have through his past.
I will never be able to stop fighting. Hope realizes the true importance of Light's words. The meaning of what Light was saying becomes clearer to him as he ponders. There's no way out. Once I commit myself, this is it. Until I die. I will have to re-take my old role as the God's sworn enemy. I won't be able to cower from my fear. All of my dreams have the ability to become more realistic, and it will only get harder.
"They always said the path of truth was never easy." Hope states aloud, as the sun sets on the shore. Before she left without saying goodbye, Light had scrawled her cell to Hope, telling him that if he was ready to join their special team, all he had to do was call. Then she had turned, revved her engine, and sped away, leaving Hope on the promontory with nothing but her number and the blowing wind.
With a steady hand, frightened but determined, the young man pulls out his own cell. Punching the numbers, he inputs the digits, crumpling the piece of paper in his other the hand.
There is a pickup on the third ring, but no one answers.
Hope understands. Two words is all he says, then hangs up.
"I'm in."
The next day, a recruiter from a military university Hope had never applied to before shows up at his home, knocking on the Estheim's front door.
"Hi, I'm a recruiter for the United States Military Academy." A young, chipper girl announces on the front stoop on that blustery day, a ream of papers in her hand. She adjusts narrow spectacles and looks to her paperwork. "I'm looking for a Mr. Hope Estheim?"
"Right this way," Nora wipes her hands on a towel she is holding to dry dishes, and the young girl steps in the entryway. She whistles rudely as the door is closing.
"Nice place." The girl smiles cheekily. Nora frowns, knowing full well all of the colleges that Hope had applied for-she helped him with his applications every step of the way. She knows that her son showed no interest in signing up with the military. An enthusiastic scout showing up at her home is a nice surprise, but a suspicious one at that. Hope wasn't exactly an athletic superstar, or showed any aptitude the military would be overly fond of.
"Thank you, young lady. I'm afraid you have the family at a disadvantage. I'm Hope's mother, Nora..."
"It's an honor to finally meet...er, I mean...to meet you, Mrs. Estheim!" The girl cuts Nora off excitedly, grabbing her hand and pumping it in a most unladylike fashion. "I'm Alyssa. Alyssa Zedielle. I'm a recruiter for West Point."
Nora purses her lips, but she can't hide the fraction of a gleam in her eye. She had heard of West Point, alright. Prestigious and infamous at the same time, she is both honored and doubly wary of their interest with her son. Her curiosity of how Hope's name has gotten placed in their selective hat trumps her offense at the girl's brusque nature, so for now, the woman retains the facade of gracious and kind hostess as she gets Ms. Zeidelle comfortable in the den. Promising to fetch her son, she excuses herself and knocks on Hope's door, where there is blaring music coming forth.
"Hope...hey, there's someone here to see you..."
The woman barely gets the sentence out before the door opens a crack and her wild-eyed child pokes his head out, hair bouncing everywhere, wild-eyed.
"Light?" The boy asks, a little too expectantly for the naturally protective mother's hearing. She marks the question down as a discussion to be had with her son later, and clears her throat.
"No, not Ms. Farron," Nora states formally, "put another young lady. A talent scout, she claims, from the United States Military Academy." She frowns. "Did you apply there, Hope?"
Hope is baffled, opening the door fully and scratching his head. More of the upbeat music streams out. "No, I don't remember...I don't think so..." He blinks, looking up at his mother. "Why would the military want me?"
"You had a recommendation." The young woman pipes up from down the hall. Both mother and son look incredulously at the impetuous girl for following Nora upstairs and eavesdropping on the family conversation.
Not knowing how else to proceed, and dispensing with all pretense of formality, Hope is the first to break the shocked silence as the girl makes her way down the hall.
"Recommendation? From who?" The boy shouts to be heard over the music, and to project his voice to the stairs, where the woman is turning from the stairwell.
"Classified." To increase dramatic effect, the lady takes her time, seeming to enjoy the two pairs of eyes watching her as she sways down the dimly lit corridor. "And I think the phrase is, 'from whom,' not 'from who.'"
The slightly mocking eyes turn up to Hope playfully, full of childish amusement. As she comes into the square of light and music streaming from Hope's open doorway, recognition and excitement burst forth from the confused young man.
"Alyssa! I remember you!" He cries out to his long-lost comrade, forgetting all of the old memories of uncomfortability and uneasiness that immediately spring from recognition, and coming forward to grab the girl in one-armed grip. Catching the talent scout off-guard, she cries out and drops her paperwork, pages fluttering down the hall, and feels knuckles grinding on top of her skull from the laughing eighteen year old man.
"Still catching you off-guard. You need to work on your skills. Especially if you're representing West Point now."
Wriggling, and gasping for air, Alyssa sputters something unintelligible in the crook of Hope's inner elbow, until he finally pushes her away, coughing and choking.
When she finally catches her breath, rubbing her head from the noogie, she finds she's too late to stop Hope from looking through her paperwork, which had scattered all over the floor.
"Hey! Those are mine! Stop that! That's classified!" The young woman cries out feebly, reaching out her arm for her things, which Hope is holding just out of her reach, scanning the words quickly above his head.
"'Morose, angsty...needs to work on his physique and people skills?'" Hope recites from the few words in bold that he can see. He snorts, Alyssa squirms, and Nora stifles a grin, backing away slowly from the scene.
Hope catches the name he is looking for, and, now finding the answer he needed to know, shoves the haphazard stack of papers into Alyssa, almost knocking her backward.
"You can tell Light that if she wants to 'recommend' anyone else for that school of yours, she needs to say more encouraging things about the potential students. She's not going to win anyone over with the tough cop routine." He states, bored, looking at his fingernails. With a change in mood that startles both women, he glances up from his deceptively casual stance and pierces Alyssa with a razor sharp look.
"The only reason why I'm not telling my mother to throw you out onto the street with the rest of the garbage is because, for some reason, Light brought you here. Either I'm missing something, or her standards have lowered pretty mightily over the years. You better start talking fast, Alyssa. I might not remember everything like, apparently, everyone else does, but I do remember that you betrayed me, and were working for the wrong team." Even now, Hope doesn't dare speak the enemy's name aloud, especially not in his father's house. "So, tell me, what are you doing here, truly?"
Defeated, frustrated, the young woman harrumphs. "I TOLD you the truth, Hope. Honest. Listen, Light wouldn't lie to you, would she? I'm playing for team good now. And I DID come here to recruit you. Look, I wasn't supposed to name any names, but seeing as how the cat's out of the bag now..." Deliberately, she stares, hands on hips, at Hope, "Fine. Light told me about how you made a decision yesterday. She pulled some strings at the Academy and I came. I happen to legitimately work for the US Military here. And I'm a scouter. You just happened to graduate. With impressive honors, I might add." Here her tone takes a side note, with a hint of appraisal. She looks up at Hope while flipping pages. "I'm part of the team, now, Hope. The GOOD side. You'll just have to believe me..."
"Which was my downfall, in the past." Hope retorts, brushing past both women and walking down the hallway. Nora is at a loss, not entirely sure of the past between her son and this young woman. None of it is sounding good. She was his enemy, back on Cocoon? This young thing?
Both woman trail Hope down the stairs, both with questions on their lips, but pause as they see Hope on the home phone, raising a finger for silence as he madly punches in some numbers, and promptly pushes the "speakerphone" button.
Alyssa watches as Hope inputs the phone number from a scrawled piece of paper he has kept hidden in his pocket, and then places the paper back from whence it came when he's finished. Three rings.
"Hello." It's Light's unmistakable voice on the other line.
"Light, it's me, Hope." Pause. "I have someone that showed up on my doorstep just now, she's here in the room with me, along with my mother. She doesn't belong here, normally, and she's tossing your name around a good bit. I just thought you should know that I have a traitor standing in my living room, telling my family you sent her here..."
"Alyssa Zeidelle. Right. She's working against Bhunivelze here, Hope. I didn't like it at first, either, but she's proven useful in a few situations in the field..."
"Yeah, I remember just how USEFUL she could prove to be." More grainy memories flash in Hope's head, and he winces as the colors and memories burn brighter. It was a flashback that he had on his birthday, one where he remembered he was OLDER than he is now, on this planet. The one where he was important. Alyssa was right there with him, right up until the end. The sting of betrayal hasn't faded, even after all this time.
There is an audible sigh on the other end of the line. "Hope, she's legit. She's here to help guide you into enrolling in West Point. When you said you were in yesterday, being part of the military front is part and parcel to the package. This is the first step. This is the logical course of becoming a soldier in this world; you don't have to have all of your memories to understand that this academy will train you to be of help in the fight against the old god. Alyssa is your first step. I could have sent any other recruiter, but I didn't want you to enroll first, then find out about her AFTER your first day. It wouldn't have been good. This way, you get to ask her questions and vice versa. She's a talent scout, Hope. She wants to prove no ill will. She will do that by getting you into the most prestigious military academy in the world, which conveniently also happens to be in close proximity to where you live. She is your link to getting you to where you need to be. Just trust me on this, Hope. I wouldn't lead you down a path that wasn't right. Just graduate, and we might be sent on the same assignments together. Just like old times. You will meet more unpleasant people out there than her. You have more than just one old enemy. Focus on what's important, and take help where you can get it. Farron out." Just like that, the line goes dead, and Hope is heaving, hating the belittling treatment where both his mother and Alyssa can hear. He just stares at the phone, shaking.
"Hope, this isn't easy, I know..." Alyssa starts in, but Hope raises his finger again for quiet. He then turns to the girl, calm restored.
"I will go with this, for Light's sake, and for hers only," He states. "For the moment, I will have to pretend like I had never known you from before and treat you like a normal person. Which is hard." Choking back bitterness, he clears his throat. "Would you like...some refreshments?"
The rest of the meeting accomplishes what needs to be done in order to set the gears in motion for Hope to be army trained in this reincarnation. He listens to the pitch and tells Alyssa, at the bottom of the conversation, that he would give the manner some thought, and sends her on her way.
"I thought you wanted to go to NYU," Nora reflects afterward, alone with just her son in the den, who is momentarily too stunned to rise from the couch.
"I still do. I don't think army life is for me. I mean, look at me," Hope laughs, holding out his hands. "I'd be skewered."
"Your grades were good enough to get into an Ivy League school." Nora lets her feelings be known by the statement, finding a balance between respecting her son's wishes, and stating her own.
Hope understands the underscoring point. "From what Alyssa was telling me, the armed forces really need some brain now to their operations, as well as the brawn. They really are in need of tech geeks like me, beefed up and out on the field, or as center of ops." He sighs. "Just exactly what enemy I'm supposed to be fighting, I don't know. Back on the old world, it was so easy. I had a clear objective. Now? Shadows and whispers."
"So just what are you going to do?" Nora asks, sitting down on the other couch across from her son, looking over the papers.
An idea strikes hope. "I'm going to ask some people in the armed forces what they think."