Hoperai Events

Swear On Steel

Hope had asked for three separate rooms for the night, which, like anything else, hotel staff were happy to provide. A little too happy in his opinion; the three rooms were so high up that they overlooked just about the entirety of Academia, and the air itself was a little thinner. But it was quiet, at least. Serah and Noel would rest well. Hope thought as much until he walked out onto the balcony to think, and spotted Serah doing something similar.

She had Lightning’s knife in her hand, closed. And then open. The blade gleamed with the light shining up from the city below. And then Serah pushed it back into its closed position. Hope hesitated on whether to call out to her, but she noticed him in seconds regardless.

“Hey, Hope. Can’t sleep?”

That was a question Hope had a hard time answering as of late. His body had no idea what time it was, nor did his brain in some cases. He also had a habit of working until his body decided it was tired, with little consideration for whatever the clock read. Fighting monsters and resolving paradoxes had taken its toll, though; he shouldn’t have too much trouble resting as long as he could quiet his mind. “I’ll get there. What about you, Serah?”

Serah leaned against the railing of her balcony. “Same boat. I was reorganizing some items and, well.” She held up the knife. “It’s a lot sometimes. I got my sister this knife to keep her safe, but...”

A storm of guilt swept through Hope’s heart. He knew the knife’s origins, but to hear it from Serah’s lips made his stomach sink. The image of Snow’s face as a boy blinded by rage prepared to strike him down had seared itself into his mind’s eye. 

They stood in silence for a lengthy moment, each steeped in thought until Hope’s shame could no longer be contained.

“Serah, did Snow tell you about what happened? What I did with that knife?”

Serah placed her hands behind her back. Hope couldn’t read her face. Knowing her, she didn’t resent him. He braced for her wrath anyway.

“You were a kid, Hope. If it were me, who’s to say I wouldn’t have done something similar?”

Hope doubted that heavily, but he said nothing of it. Instead, he told Serah the part of the story Snow wasn’t conscious for.

“When I gave that knife back to Light, we made a promise to keep each other safe.” He did what little he could to hide the displeasure on his face, but he was sure it showed anyway. “But I didn’t. I couldn’t. She’s still out there fighting alone.”

“Not alone,” Serah said with an edge of sternness. “You and me, Snow, and Noel. All of us are working together with Lightning. And when that work’s done, we’ll see her again.”

The words were of little comfort, but Hope was grateful nonetheless. He offered a smile. “Thank you, Serah.”

Serah smiled back. “Any time. Even ‘Hope’ needs cheering up sometimes.”

She was absolutely right. Hope had nearly forgotten what it was like to rely on friends. He wasn’t alone; he never had been. At the very least, Lightning was watching his back, even if it was from somewhere he couldn’t reach.

“Hey, Hope?”

“Yes?” Revitalized by Serah’s words, Hope was happy to answer any question she had for him.

“Do you love my sister?”

Except maybe that.

Hope rested his forearms on the rail and interlocked his fingers. “It seems strange, doesn’t it?”

Deep down, Hope was relieved to hear Serah’s nonchalant reply: “Not really. You two went through a lot together.” She sighed. “When you gave this back to me, I could see in your eyes how much she means to you. It still shows.”

As much as he planned, built, and fought for a better future, Hope frequently reflected on the past—it was a vice some days, a virtue others. He reminisced upon his journey, Lightning’s determination and kindness, their fireside conversations, her smile, the hope she implored him to find. “She saved me.”

Serah seemed to do some reminiscing of her own, or at least a bit of contemplation. She looked up at the stars that managed to pierce the supercity’s luminous veil. Over the centuries, people had taken to wishing on comets, but none shot through the sky tonight. That was fine; wishes didn’t change fate or futures. Their will, their hands would do that.

“From everything I’ve heard, you really saved her, too.” Serah gave Hope a quick, scrutinizing lookover. “I don’t trust just anyone with my big sister, you know. So when all this is over, you’d better take care of her.” She smiled sweetly, but extended the blade of the safety knife one more time.

As far as Hope was concerned, a blessing with a threat was still a blessing. That, and he’d always intended to do as Serah had asked. He placed a hand over his chest and assured her of his intentions.