Dear Lightning,

These are the last words you'll ever hear from me so I guess I should make them count, huh? Firstly, let me make it clear that this is no one's fault; least of all yours. I don't want you or anyone else blaming yourselves. This is a decision that I made on my own and I'm the only person who can be held accountable.

Hope paused and tapped the end of his pen against his cheek contemplatively. He wouldn't be winning any awards for this letter's opening, but it was necessary information that he had to get out of the way before addressing the matter at hand.

Secondly, I want you to know that I always cherished the time I spent with you; both in this world and the last. Would it sound strange for me to say that the days we spent on the run as l'Cie were the happiest of my life? Well, maybe they weren't at the time, but memories are rose colored and I can only look back through the lens of my own mind. And wouldn't you believe that my mind is also full of roses, as it happens. You never did hear that story, did you? You might try asking Snow when you see him next. Given the circumstances of this letter, I'm sure that'll be pretty soon.

He'd always meant to tell her himself; the time had just never seemed right. Then she got involved in her own affairs and he his and the chance just kind of slipped away. It wasn't anything that she really needed to be bothered with, anyhow. It was in the past and she was doing her best to live in the present and enjoy the new life she'd won for all of mankind. She didn't need to be weighed down by things that no longer mattered.

Thirdly, I want to tell you that I'm happy for you. I heard about Lennet's plans to propose from Serah, and knowing him, I'm certain it was no small affair. Congratulations on your engagement. You found someone who loves you and makes you happy and you deserve that more than anyone. I'm sorry I won't be around for the wedding. As a side note, you'll really piss Snow off if your cake is bigger than his was. Just a suggestion.

He couldn't help the small smile that blossomed on his face at this. He imagined the sour look on Snow's face and Serah's knowing chuckle. He wouldn't be there to see any of it, but the knowledge of their reactions warmed his heart all the same. He hoped what he was about to do wouldn't spoil the festivities for them. The wedding would surely be far enough in the future that they would have plenty of time to come to terms with his decision. The last thing he wanted was for his actions to spoil such an important event in Lightning's life.

Lastly, I suppose an explanation is in order. I feel like I haven't been honest in a long time, so I'm going to do my best to remedy that now. You'll be wanting a reason for my actions and the truth is that there are several. But I know you're the kind of person who values brevity, so I'll only bore you with two. The first, frankly put, is that the world no longer needs Hope Estheim. I spent years—lifetimes, rather—leading humanity and caring for them when hope became a bedtime story for children who never grew up. But that was in another age on another world and thanks to you humanity is enjoying a fresh start. There's nothing left for me to offer them.

Hope paused. This next part would be the hardest to put into writing. He'd never confided these feelings to anyone. He'd hoped time would help but time had never been his friend. Not in the old world and not now. All time had done was prove that he'd already used too much of it and that he'd never have enough.

His left hand wandered from its perch on the surface of his desk next to the letter to the shiny metal object resting innocently off to the side. He lazily flicked his wrist, sending the object spinning on its side. He should feel worse about what he was about to do. He wished he did. He stopped the spinning with the palm of his hand and his eyes found the yellow cloth wrapped snugly around his wrist. Somehow, this scrap of fabric had managed to follow him even here. It had seen his whole journey from the very beginning and now it would see the end. It almost seemed too sad a fate to bring it down with him. He set down his pen and used his right hand to pull the knot apart and unwind it from his wrist. He would leave it behind as a reminder. Lightning would know what it meant.

That settled, Hope picked up his pen and settled in to finish his letter.

My second reason is selfish. I told you I was going to be honest and the honest truth is that I'm tired. I must've spent too much of myself in the old world because there just isn't enough left for this one. I can't be fourteen again, Light. Bhunivelze must be laughing from his grave because every time I wake up and look in the mirror I see everything I ever worked for fall to pieces. I'm done being Hope Estheim. This lifetime has been dragged out for far too long. I'm ready to start over.

It was a tough decision, choosing where to put this bullet. Two options. I spent a long time thinking about it. In fact, it was thinking that gave me my answer. I realized that it's my mind that's been killing me. What I really want is to stop thinking. Swiftly identify the source of the problem and take it out. That's what you taught me. And maybe I fell for the romance of symbolism. I couldn't damage something that belongs to you.

I'll say hi to Caius for you when I see him. Probably should've asked you if you had a message you wanted relayed. Too late now, but I'm sure he'll understand.

Do me a favor, Light. I know you're mad at me right now, but I want you to remember me. You already know that as long as the living remember them, the souls of the dead live on. I'm not ready to be extinguished just yet. I'm kind of optimistic about my next life, to tell you the truth. I must have a whole adamantoise shell's worth of good karma built up, huh? Maybe it'll be enough to grant my wish.

One last thing: Sorry for the mess. I'm going to try to make this as clean as possible but these things are pretty clunky. You'll weep when you see the model—absolutely no finesse—but options are pretty limited when you're a minor.

Well, this is it. I've said just about everything I wanted to. Take care of yourself. I'll know if you aren't. And tell everyone else that I'm sorry and that I'll miss them.

I'm going on ahead now. Keep your eyes front.

Love,

Hope

Ps. I'm sorry I couldn't do it, Light. I wasn't able to watch the rear for you. In the end, I just couldn't keep up. You're my dearest friend and the best thing that ever happened to me, so I'm going to be honest one more time and tell you that my greatest wish is to meet you again in my next life. Maybe things will work out better for us.

Lightning sucked in a stunted breath and then another, the paper in her grip crinkling as the hand holding it tightened into a fist. She tried for a third but choked on it. Her throat was swollen like someone had come along and smashed a hammer into it.

She dragged her eyes up from the paper to the sight that lay beyond. There, slumped against the wall was the body of a child. His head lulled to the left, stark hair contrasting with the crimson splatter coating the wall beside him. Loosely clutched in his limp right hand was a pistol. His face was relaxed and pale. His chest didn't move.

Behind her, a man swore. It was probably Snow, but it might have been Noel. Lightning didn't care enough to pick apart their voices in her head. She would've demanded the person check Hope's vitals had she not already done it herself ten minutes prior when she'd entered the room and found him there. She'd discovered the letter shortly after.

True to his word, Hope had done a fine job of minimizing the mess. The shot was clean and well disguised beneath his hair. He'd have to have taken great care not to shatter his skull. Lightning wondered if he'd researched and calculated it. She certainly wouldn't put it past him. Were it not for the blood, he could've been sleeping. His posture called to mind memories of a young and lost but determined Hope slumbering fitfully against a rock in the Vile Peaks. Back then, Lightning had looked upon him with a small, just-sprouted seedling of fondness. Now, she didn't know what she was feeling. She didn't know if she was feeling at all.

Behind her, Snow or Noel or whoever it was rushed out of the room, probably to call an ambulance. It was too late, though. He was too late.

She was too late.

Lightning's feet carried her back to the body of her partner and she sank down in front of him, her knees hitting the floor with a dull thump. She raised her arms and cupped his beautiful face in her hands. She could still feel traces of warmth from his skin. He had died recently enough that rigor mortis had yet to set in. She smoothed the soft locks of silver hair that fell across his cheeks back with her thumbs.

He looked so young. So fragile. His face was that of a child's and it flawlessly concealed the ancient soul within. Lightning leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. She didn't know when the tears started but a damp patch was already growing on the material of his shirt.

She'd come straight from the restaurant where Lennet had proposed to her only an hour before. How funny that Hope should mention it in his letter. She liked Lennet. He was intelligent and understanding and genuinely fun to be around. They had been "dating" for seven months and Lightning had enjoyed their time together. But when he'd proposed, she'd fled. She'd thought she could make it work with him. She really had. She'd tried to make it work. But although Lightning had given it her best effort, she didn't love him. The truth of the matter was that Lennet had really only been a distraction. Lightning did not love easily and the more she tried to love Lennet, the harder it became for her to pretend that those feelings didn't already exist for somebody else.

The problem was that Hope was too young. Even if she knew his real age and her friends knew his real age, the law did not. She couldn't romantically pursue a teenager. It was why she had tried to find someone else. She hadn't wanted Hope to waste his life and his youth waiting until he was old enough to be with her. Even though she knew he would've. He'd never said it outright, but it wasn't exactly a secret that he cared for her. Now, she wondered if she wasn't the one who had pushed him over the edge. Maybe in trying to help him she had hurt him instead.

If that was the case and if Hope were alive, perhaps he would've appreciated the happenstance of the timing of her visit today, because she'd come to tell him that she was tired of pretending and that he was the one she cared for, damn the consequences. And maybe that would've saved his life.

But she'll never know.

"Damn you, Hope," she uttered, closing her eyes against the tears. "Why didn't you talk to me?" She stroked his cheeks gently with her thumbs and felt her heart die a little more as his skin only continued to grow colder. This was really it. They'd worked a lot of miracles in the past, but there was no coming back from a bullet through the skull. He'd never smile at her again. Never nag her. Never quietly thread his fingers with hers when they were alone together or in the company of their closest friends. She would never see him grow up.

"You're a damn fool," she told him, pulling his head to her chest and holding it there like a mother would cradle her child. She didn't care that blood was soaking into her blouse. She'd never wear this shirt again anyway. "But you've always listened to me and I know you're listening now, so I'm going to give you some instructions, and by God, you'd better follow them." The tears were still falling, disappearing into his hair, but she didn't let them show in her voice as she said, "I can't go to where you are right now—you know why—so I want you to promise me that you'll wait for me. I've got a long life left ahead of me and believe me when I say that I'll be very angry if you go and reincarnate now. I won't be having any twenty-two year age gaps, Mr. Hope Estheim."

She could feel his body beginning to stiffen. Somehow, she knew that meant she didn't have much time left.

"And let me make one thing clear," she said, unable to keep the shudder out of her voice this time. "You'll always be Hope. I don't care who you're reincarnated as. You'll always be Hope and I'll always know you. It doesn't matter where you end up, I'm going to find you. That's my promise."

She pulled back and lifted his face to press a kiss to his cold mouth. It was the only kiss they'd ever share and it was the best way she could think of to send him off.

She pulled away fully and cupped his cheek one last time. "This isn't goodbye," she promised before getting to her feet. She wouldn't see him again in this life. There would no doubt be a funeral, but she wouldn't go. There was no point.

"I'll see you again, Hope. Until then, keep your eyes front."

oO0Oo

Mehhh. Not the best ending in the world but I wrote this totally on a whim. The scenario just kind of unfolded in my mind while I was listening to music on the bus. This is now officially the saddest thing I've ever written. Yay for milestones. Originally I was thinking I would add this to my FFXIII collection but I ultimately deemed it too sad. Just wouldn't mesh well with the lightheartedness of the rest of the collection.

As usual, let me know if you notice any typos. I did actually check this one over but I miss things like a net catching water.