Chapter Text
Anthropologically, religion fascinated Hope to a point. Personally, it put him off. He’d made the easy assumption that all his friends felt similarly, so when Serah invited him to visit for Christmas, confusion dampened his joy for a short while. But Hope loved to see his friends, Serah loved a good excuse to see loved ones, and he saw little reason not to go; he had no relatives that would miss his presence, no pressing deadlines, and little to do on a cold winter’s day but read, type, sleep, and eat canned soup with a side of vitamin D3. So, he rode two hours by train, past slumbering landscapes and towns fighting for dear life against the dreary sky with ropes of incandescents, to the charming city the Farron sisters and Snow called home. The prosaic sights and the comfort of his heated seat lured him to sleep about midway, interrupted only by the jolt of the train’s brakes as it at last pulled into the station in the midst of a moderate snowfall.
Hope yawned, picked up his suitcase, and joined the flow of fellow travelers onto the station platform. A humid cold nipped at his cheeks and nose as the crowd spilled out and dispersed into different directions. Hope walked straight, where the sign for buses directed, and reached the opposite side of the small station without difficulty. The bus he’d planned to take was in the middle of dropping off passengers, so his wait would be brief. After a short ride, he’d practically be at Serah’s doorstep.
Or not. The doors to the bus closed the moment the last passenger stepped off. The digital sign on the front of the bus switched from “FOR BALAMB GARDEN” to “NOT IN SERVICE,” swiftly throwing a pocket-sized wrench into Hope’s plans. He checked his phone for local transit information and sure enough, all buses servicing the city had just been stopped for inclement weather that wasn’t expected until later that afternoon. The situation wasn’t terrible; he’d just have to get a rideshare. Before continuing on, Hope phoned Serah to give her an update. She sounded as warm as ever, and bubbly like she’d been laughing. Maybe Snow had finally learned how to be funny.
“Hope! Hey. Are you off the train?”
“Yes. I’m at the station right now. I just wanted to let you know. Buses are out of service for now, so I’m going to order a rideshare. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Oh, because of the snow? Here, I’ll take care of your ride.”
“No, I insist.”
“But you already paid for the train ticket. I can at least help you out with this.”
“Really, it’s okay.” A smile crept onto Hope’s face as they went back and forth.
Serah sighed. “Whatever the opposite of a cheapskate is, that’s you.”
“Why, thank you. I’ll see you all soon, alright?”
“Yeah. Safe ride.”
“Thanks.”
Hope hung up, ordered a ride, and walked along the sidewalk to the pickup point. Not even a minute had passed before a classic model with battle scars on its front bumper pulled up to the curb. The passenger window rolled down to reveal the driver, a man with a cheeky smile wearing a sleeveless shirt in the middle of winter. “Hope?”
“That’s me.” Hope opened the passenger door and slid into the car, which jerked into motion as soon as he sat down. He rushed to buckle his seatbelt, then slid the window back up before any more snow could get inside. The car flew over hills and around tight corners, only losing speed for red lights or stops signs.
“You here for the holidays?” the driver asked, perfectly unfazed by his own disregard for speed limits.
Hope made no attempt to hide his bafflement. “Uh… Yes.”
“Yep, I knew it. Who ya seein’? Parents, friends, an ex?”
Hope’s words came slowly and his intonation made his answer sound more like a question. “I’m visiting family—”
“Ah, family, lovely. You know, this is one of the best towns for raising a family. Grew up here myself, now I got nephews and nieces running all over the place. You got any kids?”
“Um. No. I guess I have something like a nephew.”
“Yeah? Bet you spoil him rotten, don’tcha?”
Hope hadn’t spared any expense for Dajh’s birthday gifts thus far and was happy to assist with any oddly-worded homework that left even Sazh stumped, but he’d hardly call that spoiling. “Well…”
The car lurched and Hope braced himself against the dashboard. From the snow-obscured look of things, they’d already reached Serah’s neighborhood and this awkward conversation would soon be over.
“Me,” the driver continued, “I got a budget just for buyin’ those rascals ice cream. Of course, I get a scoop myself, too.” He barked a laugh and revved the engine, launching the car up an incline. Then he hit the brakes, throwing Hope back against his seat, and the car came to a stop.
Hope glanced out the window. This was definitely Snow and Serah’s place. Upon confirming that fact, he unbuckled his seatbelt and manually unlocked the door. “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas,” the driver replied as Hope hurriedly stumbled out of the vehicle, “or Hanukkah. Kwanzaa? Happy holidays to ya.”
“To you, too,” Hope said with a forced smile, and he closed the door. The driver sped off, and Hope marched through the growing layer of snow to the front door. He paused before ringing the doorbell. It was cold, which he disliked, but the longer he let the icy air eat away at him, the more his stomach settled.
He took a long, deep breath, shivered, and rang the door bell.
Heavy footsteps began to approach. Then quicker, lighter ones. The door swung open, and Hope was greeted by both Serah and Snow’s smiling faces.
“There he is!” Snow exclaimed, and he yanked Hope inside. A blast of heat and the aroma of meat and spices hanging in the air embraced him, doing away with the lingering nausea from the car ride.
“You made it!” Serah gave him a hug, which he would have reciprocated if not for the luggage in his hand. Snow gave him the usual balance-disrupting slap on the back. And Lightning, however long she’d been lurking behind Snow’s hulking figure, emerged and asked, “Do you not know how to greet someone without leaving a bruise?”
Hope felt home already. He smiled politely at Lightning, and she in kind exchanged her annoyed expression for that subtle smile he’d been missing terribly as of late.
“There’s a nice warm stew waiting,” Serah said. “Lightning’s idea.”
“We were making dinner anyway,” Lightning annotated.
Snow ushered Hope toward the small dining room, less forceful this time around. “Come on, let’s get you all warmed up. Garlic bread should be just about done, too. You came at the perfect time.”
“Yeah,” Serah agreed. “I’m a little surprised your driver got you here so fast.”
Hope grimaced. “Me, too.” That the driver had gotten him here at all without a horrific accident was the real surprise. He took a seat at the table, which was set save for the bowls. Serah and Lightning disappeared into the kitchen, and Snow took the seat next to Hope.
“Serah’s been cooking delights lately,” Snow said. “Well, everything she cooks is great, but she’s been outdoing herself. Taking inspiration from the home cooking channel and all. Did you know there’s a specific way you’re supposed to cut carrots?”
Hope had definitely read about that somewhere. “You sound like you’ve been having your share of fun in the kitchen, too.”
“Oh, definitely. I’m practically a bread wizard. You got any specialty dishes?”
“Nothing in particular.” Hope thought on it a moment longer. “No.”
Snow crossed his arms. “Really? I for sure heard Light swooning over some oba… erba… Obi-wan… something you made.”
“Obatzda?”
“Yeah, that’s it!”
“Coming in hot,” Serah interjected, bearing a steaming bowl of hearty-looking stew in each of her mitted hands. She set them down in front of Snow and Hope, and asked, “Water, wine?”
Hope entertained the guest treatment with a cordial smile. “Water for me. Thank you, Serah. The stew smells delicious.”
“Ditto on both accounts, honey,” Snow said. His stomach growled, punctuating his statement, and he turned back to Hope. “It’s been doing that since we started cooking.”
“It’s true. Be right back.” Serah returned to the kitchen, and her sister strolled into the dining room with two more bowls. Lightning set the bowls on the opposite side of the table and flashed Hope another smile. That small gesture never failed to stun him; even more so now since he hadn’t seen it since the summer.
“How was the train?” Lightning asked.
“Good. I slept half of the way. How was your bus?” It was a bit of a stupid question, given Lightning lived just across town and visited often.
Lightning humored him anyway. “Same as always. Had some guy whistling for three stops but at least it wasn’t snowing.” She sat down and rolled her shoulder. “Don’t go catching any colds, alright?”
“I’ll take precautions,” Hope promised.
Serah returned with a pitcher of water and a basket of bread. “Here you go.” She set the basket in the center of the table and filled each glass with a practiced ease before setting the pitcher to the side and at last taking her seat. With everyone present, she clasped her hands together and announced, “Okay, everyone. Let’s eat!”
“Thank you for the meal,” Hope said in unison with Snow’s “Yes, please!” and Lightning’s “Let’s.”
Hope took a swig of water, then tasted a modest spoonful of stew. Onion, garlic, lamb, carrot—those were just the most prominent flavors. He took a sip of pure broth in search of the more subtle ingredients and tasted a hint of tomato, some wine, and something just vaguely spicy. Paprika?
“You alright?” Snow asked. “Got a food allergy or something?”
Hope raised his brow. “Hm?” He unclenched his jaw; his analysis of the dish must have drawn out his “scrutiny” face, which was very much not the face of a man enjoying a meal. He laughed to ease any concern. “Sorry. I was trying to identify all the flavors. The stew is amazing.” Hope shut himself up with another spoonful, catching some bits of potato this time.
“It sure is,” Snow sighed. He reached for the bread basket. “So, what have you been getting up to lately? A couple months back you mentioned a humanities professor interviewed you?”
“That’s right. It was a little boring. But I did have a nice chat with an anthropologist about some of this world’s ancient civilizations. Aside from that, I don’t think there’s anything worth mentioning. What about the three of you?”
“Online classes,” Snow said. “Thinking I’ll move from security to agriculture. Serah’s looking at moving to a full-time position at the primary school.”
“Probably after the next semester,” Serah said. “It’s pretty exciting, but I’d argue the contract offer Lightning got is bigger news.”
Hope looked to Lightning expectantly. “Oh?”
Lightning shook her head. “She’s exaggerating.”
“Am I?” Serah nudged. “Go on, tell him who the offer’s from.”
Lightning took a few sips of water, paying no heed to the anticipation of those around her. When she set down her glass, she simply said, “Louis.”
Hope turned his gaze to Serah, who was absolutely beaming, then back to Lightning. “As in… Louis Vuitton?” Lightning was certainly a great pick for a high fashion model; she was beautiful, built, and had a naturally cool expression. Anyone with functioning eyes—and anyone without functioning eyes, for that matter—would agree she could pull off anything the fashion world’s creative minds sent her way.
“Yeah.”
“Light, that’s amazing! Are you going to take the job?”
“Probably.” Lightning continued eating with a distinct focus on doing only that, which told Hope not to press. He instead followed suit, far from unhappy to fill his stomach and treat his tongue to such pleasant tastes and textures. He had a couple of pieces of bread as well, which, while slightly overcrisp, were delightfully potent in their garlicky flavor.
He finished first, with Lightning only a few bites behind. “You go ahead and wash up. We’ll take care of the dishes,” Serah said. “You and Lightning are the first door on the left when you go upstairs. The bathroom’s right across the hall.”
“Are you sure?” Hope asked. “I’d be happy to help.”
“Just go,” Snow said. “We don’t get to host a lot outside of Light. She’s loving this.”
“Right.” Hope gave a slow nod and stood from the table, picking up his suitcase in the process. He headed off toward the stairs and climbed them, then shouldered his way into the first door on the left.
The room was lit a dim orange by a small, snowman-shaped lamp on the nightstand next to a larger, less festive lamp, and the air smelled faintly of pine. The only sign that Lightning had even been in here was her coat hanging off the hook on the back of the door. Hope set his luggage on the floor by the foot of the bed and began removing his own coat as Lightning entered behind him.
“Hey, Light. Need something?”
“Hand lotion,” Lightning said, and she slid open the closet door. She knelt and started rummaging through a bag. “Take a breather once you’re out of the shower. It won’t be too long before Serah will want to open presents.”
Hope squeezed at the hem of his coat. “Presents? All I brought is champagne. Should I go out and get some gifts?”
“No,” Lightning said with a dash of laughter in her tone. “We’re more about ‘quality family time,’ as Snow puts it. Serah just likes to give. She probably got us all socks or something.”
“I think I get it.” Hope hung his coat and hat. “Well, I should get this train grime washed off.”
“Yes, you should,” Lightning said, at last pulling a small bottle from her bag. “Leave me some hot water.”
Funny. Hope recalled her being the one who liked a steaming shower. Nonetheless, he kept his wash short and lukewarm, dressing himself in a simple white tee and gray sweatpants. When he returned to the room, it was brighter. Lightning had turned on the big lamp and was reading a book: Festive Fairy Tales for People Who Pay Taxes.
“The shower’s all yours,” Hope said.
Lightning closed the book and set it on the bed. “Thanks.”
“What were you reading?”
“A gag gift. Take a look if you want.”
His curiosity piqued, Hope picked up the book as Lightning took her leave. “I think I will.”
Like he often did, Hope thumbed through the book before beginning to formally read it—it seemed to be a satirical take on famous holiday classics as well as original tales from the author. Childlike wonder was far beyond Hope’s grasp, but a healthy dose of cynical jests should be at least a little entertaining. He flipped to page one.
’Twas the Night Before Black Friday
Ah, a critique on the perversion of the spirit of giving by influential capitalists.
The story told of a bona fide coupon clipper waiting at his computer for the stroke of midnight. In his haste to click “check out” in all eighteen of his tabs, he mistakenly ordered eleven expensive televisions instead of one. His bank placed an automatic hold on his credit card, and he wasn’t able to buy any of his seventeen other items. Hope chuckled, not from the absurdity, but from the fact that this had definitely happened to someone before. Plenty of people, probably.
Hope paused his reading for the time being and set the book right where he’d picked it up, then scooted across the bed to the far side by the window. He reclined onto his back and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. This house was so lively, so comfortable. Perhaps he should redecorate when he returned home. His furniture was mostly dull and dark, with splashes of color in blankets and windowsill plants. Serah would assuredly be happy to give him some tips.
He closed his eyes. A fresh layer of drowsiness set in, no doubt due to his full stomach, but he fought it just enough to rest without sleeping. If he did slip up and doze off, Lightning would wake him, but he’d rather not disrupt his already dubious sleep schedule.
Before long, Lightning came back wearing an expensive-looking purple robe over plain, beige pajamas. She summarily joined Hope in lying back and gazing upward.
“Do any reading?” she asked.
“Just the first story. I got a laugh out of it.”
“Yeah? I felt a little called out. Book sales are no joke.”
Hope turned his head toward her. “That’s certainly true. What kind of books did you get?”
“A couple on recipes. Color theory. Novels, self-help slop, home improvement.” She sighed. “A bit of everything, I guess.”
Hope turned onto his side. “What’s the most interesting thing you’ve read as of late?”
Lightning glanced his way. “Probably this mystery novel. It’s—”
“Hey, you two,” Serah called, shortly followed by her appearance in the doorway. “Could you come downstairs? I’ve got gifts for you.”
Lightning sat up with swift ease. “We’ll be right down.”
Serah merrily nodded and danced away. Hope pushed himself up and exchanged a look with Lightning. “She’s really all-in on this Christmas thing, isn’t she?”
“I think seeing pictures of how Noel and Yeul decorated last year inspired her,” Lightning mused. She got out of bed and stretched her neck. “She didn’t get to do much because of school. And the whole adjusting thing.”
It certainly wasn’t an everyday occurrence to need to adapt to a new world with a new history, including one’s own past. Hope could recall a rough few months of fuzzy memories and bouts of confusion when he was first reborn, on top of his research which, strangely enough, helped him regain a sense of clarity. “Well, I think she hit the mark. This room, the whole house… It’s all really inviting.” Hope slid off the foot of the bed and fetched the champagne bottle from his luggage.
“It is. I could take some notes, that’s for sure,” Lightning said.
“You and me both.”
With that, they went downstairs to the living room, where Serah and Snow waited by a tree decorated with string lights, ornaments, and candy canes.
“Hey now,” Snow said upon catching sight of Hope. “Is that the good stuff I spy?”
“I thought you to be a whiskey man, Snow.” Hope handed the bottle to Serah. “Here. For having me.”
“This whiskey man knows champagne’s an everybody drink.” Snow nodded with self-approval.
“1975?!” Serah exclaimed. “Hope, how much did you spend on this?”
It was no small amount, but there was no need for concern. “Not too much,” Hope said, and he directed the conversation elsewhere immediately. “I’m quite curious about these gifts you mentioned, Serah.” He nodded to the base of the tree, where four wrapped boxes sat.
Serah set the champagne aside and grabbed one of the boxes. “Well, you won’t have to wonder much longer. Go ahead and open it up.” She handed him the box, then gave Lightning hers, then Snow his, and finally opened up her own.
The gift was pajamas: Matching Mr. and Mrs. Claus sets for Snow and Serah, reindeer-patterned pants and a shirt with a reindeer skull graphic for Lightning, and holly patterns for Hope. “Try them on,” Serah urged, “to make sure the fit is right and all.” Something told Hope she just wanted to see everyone in festive wear. He could humor her that much. If anything, Lightning was the one most likely to refuse, but she acquiesced without complaint.
“Right.” Lightning turned back toward the stairs. “Be right back.”
Hope glanced after her, then returned his attention to Snow and Serah. “Thank you for these. I’ll try them on right away.”
“Right behind ya,” Snow said.
Hope dismissed himself with a nod and followed Lightning’s path with his hosts in tow. Snow started humming at the base of the stairs, and Serah joined him midway up. Then Hope went into the bathroom and the tune vanished behind the door. Hope pulled off his sweats and swapped them for the pajamas; they had a slight stretch to them, and the fabric felt soft against his skin. The holly pattern admittedly looked a bit silly on him, but the clothes were otherwise a perfect fit. Hopefully the same was true for the others.
Hope exited the bathroom and halted at the sight of Lightning, who was closing the door to their bedroom. She immediately opened it back up as she gave him a lookover. Her gaze landed on the clothes folded in his hands. “Did you want to put those away?”
Hope stared like a fool. Lightning really could pull off anything. The pants sat perfectly at her hips, spacious but not loose, and the slightly oversized shirt gave the set a comfortable look.
“Uh, Hope?”
“Oh,” Hope asked after a couple of absent-minded blinks. “Yes, I’ll do that.” He rushed into the room to throw his sweats back into his luggage. As he closed the suitcase back up, he heard Snow and Serah in the hall.
“Ho ho, looking good, Sis!”
“Yeah, you look fierce.”
“Define ‘fierce.’ I look… a little strange, right?”
Hope reemerged from the room and softly closed the door behind him. “I think you look really cute, Light.” Sure, festive, cutesy patterns weren’t the first thing that came to mind at the mention of the Lightning, but she looked warm and cozy, pouting aside.
What Hope thought to be a compliment was clearly a blunder, however. Lightning grumbled under her breath and fled through the door he’d just closed, locking herself in the room with a deafening click. In his shock, Hope merely stared at Snow and Serah. Then the desperation set in. He whipped around and tapped the door with his knuckles. “Um, Light?”
“Let’s… Let’s give her a minute,” Serah suggested. “She’s a little embarrassed, that’s all. Come downstairs. I’ll make some tea.”
Hope reluctantly obeyed. He sat down with Snow in the living room, bouncing one leg rapidly and squeezing his left wrist while Serah hastily prepared the hot refreshment.
“You’ve gotta relax, man,” Snow told him. “A dashing young man called her cute. Of course she’d panic.”
“Panic? She seemed more annoyed.” Hope sighed. “I feel like an ass.” He’d only meant to reassure Lightning that she looked fine. He’d never say anything to make her feel bad. She knew that, right? Maybe Serah was right and she just got flustered; but even then, she was the type to deflect or brush things off, not outright hide.
Snow shook Hope’s shoulder. “Hey. You’re okay. Take it from someone who pisses her off all the time.”
Hope’s eyes narrowed. “Well, she expects you to piss her off.”
“Hey, now. We still get along well enough. She really likes you, though. Big ol’ soft spot. Probably even bigger now than way back when.”
It was true Hope and Lightning had always been a particularly close pair out of their small circle, but Hope never viewed himself as “special” to her. If he did try to look at things Snow’s way… it made his stomach flutter and his jaw tighten up.
“Hope, here.” Serah entered the room holding a tray bearing two steaming teacups and a plate with two cookies. “Apple chamomile tea, and gingerbread cookies from the local bakery. Now back upstairs you go. Ready?”
“Um… No?” Hope hesitantly accepted the tray. “I thought we’d give Light some time to herself—”
“Trust me on this, Hope.” She wasn’t asking. “Between you and me, lately my sister’s been a little… I don’t want to say distant, but—yeah, a little distant. And I think you’re just the person that can get her out of her funk.”
Hope looked down at the tray, then back up at Serah. “Uh, right. I’ll do my best, then.” He took a cautious turn and lifted one leaden leg, then the other. Slowly, he maneuvered his way back up the stairs and to the room he’d been locked out of.
“Hey, Light? I brought you some tea.”
Hope swallowed. Would she even answer him, let alone open the door?
The answer to both of those questions was a simple yes. Only a handful of seconds passed before the door opened to reveal a very normal and not upset-looking Lightning.
“Sorry about that. I…” Her eyes darted to the side. “…had to sneeze?”
Instead of pointing out how that made no sense whatsoever, Hope entered the room and set the tray on the nightstand. Lightning closed the door behind them and they each took a cup of tea before having a seat on the edge of the bed.
Hope blew on the surface of his drink. “I wanted to apologize.”
“Don’t. I’m the one being weird.” Lightning huffed, her gaze elsewhere.
If Hope did pry, Lightning wasn’t going to tell him anything right now, as much as it pained him. He took a sip of tea. “The tea’s good.”
“Yeah. It was a present from one of Serah’s students’ parents.” Lightning took a large sip and hummed. “Nice mouthfeel.”
“I thought you hated that word,” Hope half-joked.
“Well, when they say it eighty times in one wine tour…”
The tour they’d taken in the summer did have a horrifically high number of utterances of “mouthfeel”. The memory made Hope want to say it aloud, at the risk of wearing out Lightning’s patience. “I lost track at around twenty but that sounds right.”
Lightning’s neutral expression shifted into a smile and she reached for a cookie. “These are from a local place.”
“Serah was telling me as much. Do you like to stop by when you visit?”
“I’ve had better for sure.” Lightning took a small bite. “The gingerbread in particular is superb, though. Shame they only make it in winter.”
Hope’s brow sank in thought. “That is a shame. I don’t suppose you’ve managed to reverse-engineer the recipe, either?”
“Never thought about it. Not that I’m much of a baker anyway.” Lightning took another sip of tea and flicked Hope on the side of the head.
“And what exactly was that for?”
“You were overthinking it, weren’t you?”
“You got me,” Hope laughed. The awkwardness between them was quickly wearing thin, thank goodness, but curiosity regarding Lightning’s purported standoffish behavior sat firm. If her predicament was in fact something he could help with, then he wanted to do so. But right now, she was certainly herself, and that much would give him enough peace to sleep tonight.
“Hey, Light?” Hopefully this time, speaking his thoughts wouldn’t make Lightning need to “sneeze” again. “I’m glad I came.”
A look of surprise formed on Lightning’s face, with the slight lift of her brow and purse of her lower lip. Her words came slow, but were no more particular for it. “Me too.” She smiled after that; it was genuine but contorted and wrong but definitely right. Something gnawed at her and Hope couldn’t pinpoint what it was beyond some manner of uncertainty, which gnawed at him, too. But there would be no prying into the matter tonight, not with the lingering awkwardness. Tomorrow was a new day. After a good night’s rest, maybe they’d slip right back into chatting the hours away like they had in the summer.
Hope breathed in more of the tea’s calming aroma and sighed through his nose. “I think I’ll head to sleep soon.”
“Right,” Lightning said, “Travel day.”
Hope hummed in response, stood, and polished off his tea. He set his cup on the tray, glanced at the plate, and paused. “You can have my cookie if you want.”
“You sure?” Lightning asked.
“Yeah.”
She left him half.