The children are still laughing as they stand next to the vegan-Italian food truck in Central Park. Usually, Claire is saying, there are so many people here that she has to stand in line for a while, self-conscious about how she smells after a long workout sesh. Now, thanks to the cold February mist, it frees up the waiting time for the two to grab something.

Claire hems and haws for a while, shuffling from foot to foot impatiently as she takes her dear sweet time to think. Finally, she chooses a zucchini-noodle pesto. Hope happily chooses a veggie stromboli with vegan flour.

There is a moment of pause as it comes time for the order to be cashed out. Hope created this confusion intentionally, not giving the food truck worker time to ring Claire out before Hope seized the moment to step up and loudlly begin ordering. Claire had been so quizzical of the non-meat food placed in front of her that she didn't notice Hope's intentional placement of their food orders as one.

"Uh, that'll be $20.00."

"My treat." Hope deftly produces the bill from his wallet, expertly balancing the stromboli in the other.

He grins on the corner of his face that Claire can't see as he pretends not to hear her sputtering and fumbling for cash. In a show of intelligence, the food truck worker casually ignores Claire's flying elbows and sighs as she tries to swing her gym bag around to look for money. Smart man. Hope tips him a ten on the sly as he turns and gestures toward a bench.

"This way, my lady." Claire gives a final sigh, grabs her food, and allows herself to be led to a bench and table. Hope pats Claire on the back.

"There, there, you can treat me out next time." Hope reassures his old friend.

"Yeah, but I'm used to paying for these food truck meals for myself."

"Exactly, that's why I wanted to pay for this meal, this once. We can make it a thing. We try out the new food trucks, and spot each other. That's fair."

Claire is shaking her signature locks as they settle down onto the bench, the slanting midafternoon sun looking pretty through the misty haze. "I've already told you, Mr. Estheim, that I've already been to most of the food trucks here. There are only two more left, after today."

"And I'VE already made it clear not to call me 'Mr. Estheim.' That's my father's name. How many times do I have to tell you, Light? Just call me Hope."

Shudders form over Claire's back and shoulders, and the warrior woman vibrates in the sun. "That phrase. It's what you used to tell me, back on the old world. On the Ark. You told me then, never to call you Mr. Estheim. I didn't even realize that I was saying it again until just now. And just now, you reminded me not to call you by your last name. It's the past. It's still haunting us. We can never escape from it's shadow." Claire Farron puts down her fork, gaze distant and looking over at the children laughing and playing. Her words, however haunting, don't exactly sit right with Hope. He disagrees, but gives his old friend a moment before plowing ahead. Instead, the young man watches Claire as she hugs herself and smiles slightly at the kids.

"You come here so you can watch them play, don't you?" Hope wasn't sure before he began to speak if he was right or not, but as soon as he says the words, and sees the reaction on Claire's face, he realizes he was right.

"I don't know what you're talking about. And you sound kind of creepy right now, to be honest." The wall is immediately thrown up between them, but Hope isn't afraid of Claire's cold shoulder. He brushes the barrier between them aside with his intuition. His brain is what can trump Claire's brawn in their timeless battle, and he knows that if he remains vigilant and calm, he can make her happy.

"You're not disagreeing with me, either. I wouldn't peg you as the patient type normally, Claire. But you stand in line after the gym, when it's usually busier than it is today, and watch the kids play while you eat. So you don't have to eat your meals alone. So you don't have to walk into a restaraunt and eat by yourself with all those people looking at you. Here, no one will bother you and you can get some fresh air while you watch the kids. You're a big sister. You want to protect-that's why you became a soldier. It's in your blood. Here, you can watch them, and eat, and not be by yourself."

"Watching my sister play was the only time I got to be happy." Claire blurts out. She has completely abandoned her plate of food, and hugs her knees to her chest, rocking slightly back and forth on the bench. Hope is shocked to see her turn to him with flecks of tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"After mom and dad were gone, it was just us. So, yeah, the protecting instinct wasn't an option. I took up my role to protect her, and the town, and the other kids that might be just like us. Later, I would sacrifice myself to save her, and the rest of our little world. Now, after it's all gone and Serah doesn't need my protection and Cocoon is gone, I want to believe that I still have a purpose. That there's still a mission. I come here after I do my battles in the gym and fuel up, so I can remind myself that there's still something to wake up for and protect. I eat my last meal of the day here in the park so I can go to bed and think about the fact that I did my patrol that day, my sweep of my neighborhood. I begin to recognize faces and look for them the next time that I come. That makes me feel better. I keep in shape so that if there's a threat, I can be ready."

Claire's words touch Hope, and he blinks, mystified. On impulse, he reaches out a gloved hand to his friend, but then curls his digits at the last second, retracting. He sighs, then turns his silvered head toward the grass.

"I don't agree with you about what you said earlier. About always being under the past's shadow. You're Claire Farron, but you're also Lightning. Like we talked about in the car on the way here. You are two people in one body. Lightning can't be held back by anything. Lightning can't be harmed by shadows."

"It also can't protect, it only destroys." THAT line Hope DOES remember, and Claire murmurs it now, head pillowed on her bent knees, and she speaks into the hood of her jacket, her words almost completely muffled.

"Maybe you're right, but Claire DOES protect. Lumina. Claire. That part of you CAN. You can do both. Everyone does both, Claire. Everyone has a bit of Lightning and Lumina inside of them. That's what makes us human. No one lives encapsulated in an extreme."

"I did, for a while."

Hope sighs, closing his eyes, tilting his head back to get the last of the sun before it entirely slips behind a tree on the far side of the field. He hopes he has the patience to deal with this grown child. Somehow, the roles on this world are different. She is still older, but he is not the child.

"The past doesn't hold anyone back, Claire. We aren't held under anything the past can dredge up. I said those words, about me not liking being called by my last name, because that's who I am. I would say that phrase no matter what time period my body was inhabiting. Because that's what I will also say if you call me 'Mr. Estheim' in the future. There's no constraint by time based on what I would say. I said that because I'm the same person speaking in either instance. Not because a monster called 'the Past' is forcing me to say it."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. A monster from the Past DID force you to say things." Claire raises her head up now, her gaze steady and strong. Her voice doesn't waver. "It's harder for those of us that remember. And now, we're worried that it's not over. That the Past is back."

Hope can't argue with this point, knowing that he has a lot of testing and pain involved regarding Bhuni in the future to deal with.

"Is that why you're continuing to hide your feelings for me on this world." The sentence originally began as a question, but by the time Hope finishes uttering the words, they become a statement. "You can't trust me, or anyone really, until you are sure that the threat is good and over with. That's why you watch me from afar and try to guide me from a distance as much as you can. That's why you spend time with all of us, but don't come around as much as we'd hoped you would. You're not sure if it really IS me speaking, and want so badly to hope that it is. But you don't have the strength to face having to distrust me again if the truth comes out that I am being manipulated by Bhuni once more. You can't handle being lied to and your feelings used anymore. Your pain was put away by your childhood on Cocoon, but you're aware that this is your final incarnation. This is your last shot. You don't want to start building a foundation with me, or anyone, until your fight is done and you really can lay down your gunblade."

Hope looks up when he hears Claire sob once, loudly, and opens his eyes in alarm as she pulls herself up to a straight seated position. From the way that she looks at him, it's almost as if his ears have betrayed him-she seems calm, fluid, in control. Did she almost just start crying? Hope looks carefully, but can see no breach in the calm exterior. The facade is flawless.

"I need you to be the boy I remember, Hope. I need to look at you and remind myself that here is somebody I saved from madness. Here is someone I thought I needed to protect, but ended up protecting me for so long. You were consumed when I met you, Hope. Your anger, your need to lash out, your violence-it scared me, but it also reminded me of myself when I was your age. When I wanted to blame the world for the events that happened to me when I was a child. You lost your mother when you were so young, and so had I and Serah-I sympathized, I empathized. And I saw myself."

"Who do you see now?" Hope leans forward, propping his elbows on the table. This is the most important part of the entire conversation. He needs her to see him as much more than a young boy-he can't explain it, he just knows that he needs to be so much more than that in her eyes.

The question catches Claire off guard, and she turns her head back to him, assessing him soundly. Her eyes are wary. "Not who I expected." She sighs.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Hope hears his tone turn defensive, but Claire ignores it.

"It means that, when we searched for each other, I had this picture in my head of you. Still innocent, young. Though I realize that thought was silly. None of us are now either innocent or young. I was searching for the boy that I protected in Palumpolum square."

"That boy no longer needs protecting." Hope understands his statement marks him full of pompus teenage rebellion, but he doesn't care. He isn't really a teenagaer.

At this statement, Claire cracks a smile, and goes back to considering her food. "You're right, of course. We can handle our own, l'Cie or no. Especially now that you're registered at West Point." She pokes at her noodles, making a face. She breathes deep, closes her eyes, drops her fork, and dives back into her train of thought. "You are more of a man now than I've ever known you to be. I don't know this Hope Estheim. The only Hope I've known is of a boy-though I understand that while I was in Valhalla, you at one point had matured. I never saw that person. So, in my mind, I didn't know what to expect. I thought I could persuade you to go into the school. When we met on the beach that night, I realized within a few moments of seeing you again that you aren't a pushover, whether you retain all of your memories or not."

"I'm interested in showing you the mature Hope. You know this. I can handle Claire Farron, but the question remains-can Claire Farron put away her preconception of a juvenile Hope Estheim?" He levels with his old friend, and childhood crush. "I can see beyond what's in front of my eyes. I know you can, too. It's worth a look."

Claire smiles at him, and tilts her head, hiding half her face from him with her hood. "Easy there, tiger. Slow your roll."

Hope laughs at the American slang. "You sure pick up things fast for not being on this world very long."

"I've always been a fast learner." She smiles, then turns back to her food. "It's not a 'no,' Hope, it's a 'I don't know this part of you.' Also, your theory on not wanting to get close to you because of what may be happening with your body again is correct."

"I don't blame you. I wouldn't blame anyone for not wanting to be close to me until we figure all of this out." Hope looks down at his lap, where he clenches and unclenches his fists. "I don't FEEL any different. I've felt the same ever since...well, ever since I can remember. There's no confusion. I act out on what I believe are my own impulses. But I want to be sure." He looks up, and Claire has given up and has started eating, as quickly as possible so as not to taste the food, it seems.

He watches her wolf down the noodles, and smiles. "Are they that bad? You don't have to eat them..."

"A soldier never wastes food. Besides, I wanted to try some of this healthy non-meat stuff that they have here."

Hope laughs, and the genuine bell tones feel good coming from his stomach. "That's the woman I know. Sorry they don't have behemoth steak here."

Claire smiles back, slurping up a stray noodle that almost smacks her nose. "I guess I will have to learn to eat things that haven't tried to kill me first." She gestures toward Hope. "You haven't started eating anything yet, I see."

"My stomach has been bothering me today." The statement is true. Between last night with Alyssa, this afternoon with Vanille and Light, and knowing that there is maybe a hidden God trying to reach across the Cosmos to come for him, it all doesn't add up to putting Hope in a hungry mood.

"A soldier needs their strength. Eat." Claire has picked up the plate now, literally taking her arm and scraping off noodles from the plate into her mouth.

"Wow, I need to show you some good vegetarian and vegan places around here. I'll reform you yet, don't you worry."

Claire makes a face, dropping her plate and chewing on one side of her mouth. "You mean to tell me that you voluntarily eat this stuff?"

Hope sighs, shaking his head. "It's...a personal choice. As a scientist, let's just say that I'm aware of all of the additives they put in this world's food that I didn't consume back home. It was kind of a no-brainer for me. A way to stay truer to what I remembered food tasting like, even if no one believed my reasons. I just told my parents that I liked animals."

Claire sighs, and drops her plate. The food is gone, and she throws back the hoodie on her jacket. She rests her chin on her hand. "You really had it rough growing up here, didn't you?"

A sting shoots its way through Hope's spine at her words, and he represses a shudder. "You have no idea. You wouldn't believe the stuff that I went through."

"Seems like you can't get a decent childhood, no matter what planet you happen to be inhabiting."

Hope shrugs, and takes his first bite of stromboli. It's surprisingly very good, with fresh ingredients. Way better than he had originally anticipated, from coming out of the back of a truck. He makes an affirmative noise around his mouthful of food, then wipes the back of his mouth with his glove before he continues.

"I can't complain. I know that there are a lot of people who have had bad childhoods, too, some worse than mine. You, for example. Not the best, from what I've heard."

The sun sinks behind the trees, the children scatter and return to their homes, and Claire and Hope find themselves winding their way back to Hope's Nitro after the park gaslights have flickered on.

On their meandering course back to the car, neither wanting the outing to end, a surprising thing happens. In amongst the bending trees and winding concrete path, a lone firefly pops out from behind a hedge, and floats lazily by.

"Look! It must be one of the first for this year. This one's early. Still pretty cold at this time." Claire points excitedly, and Hope grins, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He watches Light out of the corner of his eye, and is happy to see a little bit of enthusiasm peeking out of his friend's normally dour demeanor.

A little bit of the edge flakes off at Claire's spotting of the firefly, and she laughs, grabbing Hope's upper arm in excitement. She hadn't noticed that she touched him in her happiness, and Hope doesn't alert her to the fact that she is now linking her arm through his, guiding him along the path to follow the firefly's flight.

"You must think I'm silly." Claire catches herself after she has pulled Hope through half of the deserted park, happy to be led by the little flicker of light in the darkness.

Here is where Hope catches his friend, and pulls her to him. It's so odd to them both to have him be taller than she is now, to look down at her and tip her head up to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, Claire." She does, finally, flicking her lashes down to the ground first before gazing up into Hope's green eyes. "I don't think you're silly. I like you letting your guard down. It's like...it's like I'm meeting you for the first time. I've only known Lightning. I like the civilian you. The peacetime you. The you who's more relaxed."

"Well, don't think I'm completely comfortable." Claire cuts Hope off in the middle of his sentence. Her lips turn down, and she crosses her arms in a trademark standoffish gesture. "I'm still not entirely sure if we are out of the woods just yet."

"Forgive me for saying something corny here." Hope deliberately, slowly, takes his friend's arm and pulls it gently through the crook of his elbow. In a very old-fashioned manner, he takes his gloved hand and turns them gently back the way of his car, and they walk stride for stride back to where the firefly has briefly alighted on a nearby bush. "But, I can't help but take the opportunity. You can always find Hope in the darkness, all you need is a single Light to help guide you along the way. Let our friend here be a reminder the next time you want to be all grim."

Claire watches beneath a hooded gaze as the firefly buzzes its wings in the air. "That WAS pretty corny. Thanks for the warning." Grinning, she socks Hope on the shoulder, but Hope notices that she doesn't let go of his arm. In fact, she leans into him as they walk.

Hope groans, tossing his silvery head up to the heavens. "Between you and Fang, I'm not going to be able to wear long sleeves for a VERY long time." They both laugh at this, and soon they find their way back to the car, detour over.

"My lady." Hope keeps up the genteel facade, and makes a sketchy bow as he opens the passenger side door for Claire. She just tsks in response and rolls her eyes at him, but Hope catches the quick grin she tries to hide as she hops up into her seat.

The ride home is quiet and filled with Claire giving directions as they drive, in between scrolling through the phone she pulls out of her pocket before Hope had even finished walking around the front of the car to get in. It's all terse and businesslike as soon as they are out of the park and on the way home, and Hope is quiet as they ride, navigating through traffic.

"Goodbye, Claire." Hope says as he throws the car into park, closing his eyes for a moment before he has the strength to turn his head and look at his friend.

Claire watches him as he gathers strength to say goodbye, glancing at his hands gripping the steering wheel cover. She smiles smugly to herself, hands folded in her lap, appreciating his pain that he keeps to himself out of respect for her.

"I...I want to thank you for understanding what I was telling you today, and for giving me time. You...you will give me time, won't you?" She asks, and Hope can read the sincerity in her eyes.

"Of course." Hope laughs. "I don't have a choice, considering what may be happening to my body. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good." Claire reaches for the door handle, turns to leave, then pauses at the last moment. Turning her head, behind her cascade of pink hair, she nods once, then speaks. "I would consider this a date. Thank you for my meal. Next time, food's on me." With those last words, she exits the car, strides to her apartment lobby door, and doesn't look back.