It was a day's drive to the nearest town with a train that would take them to the city outside of Academia. The train ride itself was an eight-hour ordeal of less-than-stellar accommodations, peeling paint, and uncomfortable seats: the fall of Cocoon may have been over twenty years ago, but the transportation department still had a ways to go to get where it used to be. As Snow glanced out the window and across the sprawling expanse of the Archylte Steppes, he couldn't help but wonder if this snail's pace could have been beaten by a jogging chocobo. He sighed at the thought and pressed himself back into his seat, rubbing his temples and glancing at his snoozing riding partner to help pass time.

Snow's trench coat, repaired so much that it was practically new, was draped across the young woman's body into a makeshift blanket. Her legs were curled up into the seat, sitting in a weird cross-legged hybrid that would have been uncomfortable for anyone else. Eyes, a ghostly blue when opened, were squeezed tightly shut to guard against the rays of the setting sun and a small mouth pursed while she slept. A gloved fist was wrapped in her hair, lost in the champagne-colored locks that were normally tied back into a haphazard ponytail. Peeking out from her beneath her gloves was a black splash of ink, one that none here save Snow would ever recognize – it was hard to forget what a l'Cie's brand looked like, even after all these years. The tattoo artist hadn't known what it was that he was crafting on the woman's arm, but she knew, and getting the artwork stamped on her wrist had been worth the grounding that her mother had given her.

Snow looked back out the window and smirked at the memory. Lightning had been livid when their daughter came home with a fresh spot of ink bravely on display. Snow had tried to calm her down, tried to tell Lightning that it wasn't a big deal, but that had only irritated her further. Their brands, she explained, were a constant reminder of what would happen if they were to fail, of the fate that was worse than death that could have awaited them: it wasn't a badge of honor. It had cost them their homes, their planet, and the lives they once knew, and now their darling daughter had paid a hefty fee to have it stamped on her wrist for the world to see and question. Her tirade continued for some time, ending with a punishment that everyone knew was coming, but still their eldest smirked and high-fived her dad under the table when Lightning wasn't looking.

The memory made him chuckle under his breath and turn his gaze back to the daughter that so strongly resembled her mother, in attitude if not in looks. "Wake up, kid," he said softly, nudging her awake. "We're almost there."

She rubbed at her eyes and groaned. "Wake me up when we're there, not when we're almost there…" A blind hand was groping for the edges of Snow's jacket and, once found, she hoisted it up further, burrowed into the cocoon she had made for herself, and began to fall back asleep.

He yanked his coat off of her and threw it around his own shoulders. She complained, but it had the desired effect – she was already stretching and working out the kinks, waking up after the long day of traveling that they left behind them, and getting their two bags packed and ready to go.

Snow eyed the unfashionably ripped jeans his daughter wore, saw the tee that was cut off at just the right spot to show tight biceps, and smiled again – she was her mother's daughter, all right. Instead of getting gussied up to go to the city that the village kids dreamed of visiting, she put on her regular clothes, some tennis shoes, and waited at the door for her father to finish getting ready – offering halfhearted complaints the whole time.

It was a good thing Lightning had secretly packed a second bag for her.

Snow hoisted the secret bag over his shoulder while the train crawled to a stop. "Too bad your uncle Hope didn't come with us," Snow mused. "He knows this city better than I do. I'm not sure where the hotel is."

"We'll figure it out," she shrugged. "You and mom managed to travel all over this planet before without getting lost, right? How bad can a city be compared to that?"

"Ah, youthful optimism," he sighed breathily. "I can't wait to crush it." He nodded forward at the man waving them off the train. "Time to go, Nora." With Snow taking the lead, he and his daughter stepped off the train's platform. For Nora, this would be her first time in the city proper. He made his way through the train station, got vague directions on where to head next, and then stepped outside onto the sidewalk.

"Welcome to Academia," he said, smiling as Nora glanced around to take in the bustling streets, the massive crowds of people, the neon lights and advertisements that blocked the night sky. Though she was as careful with her expressions as Lightning was, Snow could still see the wonder and intimidation battling for control in Nora's eyes.

Her head swiveled around her, taking in all the sights, before her gaze fell back to the street and the people wandering around on them. It was obvious that they were a different breed than the country folk like her and Snow, that they didn't have to fight for their survival in quite the same way that the Villiers' family did. He could see her doing the calculations that Lightning and Snow both had taught her, figuring out the best way to take control of the situation and win every battle presented to her. Normally she was excellent at this, but the sheer volume of people and the extreme foreignness of the situation had her reeling.

He took a step forward and nudged her. "Don't worry about it too much." Nora's eyes sharply spun to Snow's, questioning. It was to be expected: fearsome beasts constantly roamed near their home, so vigilance was a necessity in their life. "They have their own police force here, and monsters don't want anything to do with this place." He shifted all his bags over one shoulder and used his free hand to gently push Nora forward. "The only thing you have to worry about are pickpockets and guys looking at you funny."

She snorted at that. It was so unladylike that it made him proud.

"I'm serious though. If you see a guy looking at you, let me know. I'll beat his ass."

"You'll have to get in line."

An hour later they were in their hotel room, a small but cozy place with two tiny beds that were just big enough for Nora. Though she was taller than many people he knew – her height rivaled Hope's – she was still nothing compared to Snow.

It was going to be a rough night's sleep.

"We can talk to the staff, ask them for a different room…"

"Don't worry about it," Snow said with a shrug. "I've dealt with way worse. Besides, your mom takes up most of the bed anyway…this bed is probably the same amount of space I normally sleep on."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Get ready for bed. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day, kid."

She nodded once and grabbed the smallest of her bags, heading for the bathroom. She paused at the door. "Can you tell me what the plan is yet?"

"Nope. It's a surprise."

She threw her head back in mock exasperation and groaned before retreating into the bathroom. Ten minutes later she stepped out, her hair sopping wet and wearing pajamas that looked suspiciously like her brother's.

Snow bid her goodnight and turned off the light before taking his turn in the bathroom. By the time he came out, Nora had already passed out, asleep.

...*...*...

He was shaken out of bed the next morning. "Dad," he heard an urgent voice whisper. "Dad, get up."

A glance at the clock told him it was just past nine in the morning. He hadn't slept that late in ages. "What's wrong?" he mumbled, scrubbing at his face to shake the sleep out of him.

Nora gave the door a sideways glance, looking wary. "Somebody's knocking."

He paused just in time to hear the gentle knock, followed by an equally quiet call of "cleaning service". Snow scratched at his chest beneath his shirt and stood, shuffling to the door and peering out. The hotel's maid staff was just outside. "Sorry, we're not ready yet," he mumbled, shutting the door before they could respond.

When he turned around he saw Nora had brass knuckles wrapped between the fingers of both her fists, which clenched at her sides. Her body was tight and ready to fight.

I forget that she has no experience with this kind of stuff.

Snow sighed and scratched his neck. "Just room service. In hotels, they come by every morning and clean your room."

Her eyes narrowed. Despite being an even mix of Lightning and Snow, she looked remarkably like her mother at the moment. "They clean your room? Why?"

"I dunno, just a courtesy. They clean up a little, change your sheets, give you extra shampoo and shit. It makes your experience nice," he added, earning a laugh.

Slowly her weapons were slid from her hands. "Nice is scary when you're not expecting it."

He smirked in response. "Speaking of not expecting things, we should probably start getting ready. We've got some daylight to kill before going to where we need to go." He saw the raised, hopeful brow. "Still not telling. Just go get changed into your regular clothes. We'll grab some breakfast and wander around a little bit."

She disappeared into the bathroom in a flash.

Hours later he was wandering through the streets of Academia with Nora tight to his side. The crowds and noise of the city were still getting to her, he could tell, but she seemed utterly entranced by the lights and music all around her. Though it was midday during the week, and thus less crowded, the stores were still open and doing all they could to attract customers.

He let Nora choose where she wanted to go, and she stopped into any store that held things of remote interest. Several electronics shops were perused, and every time they spotted a weapons store Snow would be dragged in by the cuff of his sleeve. By accident she wandered into a giant sporting goods complex, where they wandered for damn near an hour before finding their way out. Only one clothing store was visited, and when inside she laughed at all the ridiculous clothes that she saw before shaking her head and leaving.

She had a small sum of money to spend but she was an exceptionally careful spender. She'd yet to find anything that she wanted to take home with her – she was too practical for most of the items they'd stumbled upon. A part of him wished she knew how to let loose and have a little fun, wished that she was more like him in that regard, but if she were then she wouldn't be herself. He sighed at the thought and returned to staring hungrily at the remote-control helicopter while Nora tried out a 3-D archery range.

"There's no way I suck this bad," she spat bitterly, loosing a fourth arrow. It sang through the air and completely missed the target. Again. "This game is rigged."

Snow took the visor and fake bow from her, went through the motions of preparing himself and the arrow, and then released. The head of the pixelated arrow buried itself into the center of the target.

Snow turned to Nora with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. She was furious.

"Bull. Beginner's luck." She marched forward and pointed at the target. "Try again."

He shrugged, nocked another arrow, aimed, and shot. This one sailed as true as the last. Before he could gloat, the visor was ripped from his skull and plopped onto Nora's head. She grabbed the bow and pushed him aside. Her fifth attempt was still as crappy as the first four.

She was seething. Nora was a lot of things, but a good loser was not one of them.

It took him ten minutes to tear her away from the practice area. By the time he did, she was red-faced and he was pretty sure the blood vessels in her forehead were ready to pop.

"There, there," he said through a grin, "we can't be good at everything, you know."

"That was complete bullshit, dad," she hissed. "Mom taught me how to shoot. There's no way I should have missed."

"Mom taught you how to shoot a gun, Nora," Snow corrected. "Guns and bows are totally different." He guided her around the town for a bit longer before spotting the shop he had been looking for. "Don't worry too much about it. If you really want to learn how to shoot a bow, ask Aunt Serah."

Nora nodded solemnly, vowing to do just that once they got home. She really does suck at losing…

She was sullen as they walked through the doors of the next shop. Judging by the time, it would probably be one of the last before heading back to the hotel and changing for the real event of the trip, but he wouldn't mention anything of the sort to Nora quite yet.

The shop they were in now was a small, but well-respected jewelry shop in the heart of Academia. Precious stones of all shapes and sizes glittered beneath their glass shells, sparkling in the perfect lighting of the store. Right away a man swept over from a corner of the store and plastered on an amicable smile while giving the two of them a once-over. His smile faltered. "Can I assist you today?"

"Nora, help me find something for your mom." Snow shooed his daughter away to look. She complied, easily, and that surprised him. He shook his head, then returned his focus to the shopkeeper and lowered his voice. "I have an order to pick up."

"Ah," the man seemed a little surprised by this and readjusted his glasses. "Under what name?"

At that he hesitated. "I'm not sure. It will either be under Snow or Lightning Villiers…or maybe Hope Estheim. I don't know."

"Estheim," the man breathed. His smile came back.

"Yeah. He came in and ordered it for us. Hope comes to town more often than I do."

"I know just what you're referring to!" His voice was chipper and sunny and he was looking at Snow in a completely different light than he was two minutes prior. With a flourish he disappeared behind a door and came back moments later carrying a small package. "Of course, I'll have to ask for your identification, sir. Procedure, of course…"

They went through the rigamarole of releasing the object into Snow's possession, which only took a couple of minutes. Thankfully Nora was at the complete opposite end of the shop and didn't notice anything happening. "For your wife, sir?"

"No. My daughter's birthday." He scribbled his name on the document in front of him, trying to remember the last time he had signed something so official – it must have been a couple decades ago.

The man eyed Nora and nodded to himself. "I see, I see." He gathered the documents and straightened them. "Might I ask how you know Mister Estheim? His is a well-known, and highly respected, name around these parts."

There was a momentary scramble to come up with a decent excuse. He hadn't thought that Hope's name would be so easily recognized, and now he wondered just how popular the fair-haired wonder was in these parts. "We, uh, used to work together. Long time ago. Still friends though," he added, shifting under the man's curious gaze. He pocketed the wrapped gift he had received and moved to scratch his neck. "Thanks," he said, a little awkwardly, and then stepped away to join Nora at the back of the shop.

She was eyeing all the necklaces on display in the back, her nose hovering barely an inch above the polished glass. "Do you think mom would like something like this?" she asked and pointed down, not bothering to look over at Snow.

A quick glance down answered his question. "Nope," he said flatly, spotting the still-too-familiar outline of a fragile, silver Cocoon. "Maybe a necklace, but probably not one that looks like that," he explained. At his daughter's prompting, he mentioned something about her not having many great memories while on Cocoon and left it at that.

They left the store and glanced around outside for their next destination. Nora pointed somewhere off in the distance and tugged on his arm to take him to wherever it was that she wanted to go. Snow followed wordlessly, fingering the item in his inside pocket that he just bought. He was trying to figure out the best time to—

"Why doesn't mom have an engagement necklace?"

Nora's voice had a suspicious edge to it. Was she wondering, perhaps, if Lightning and Snow were truly married?

And, more importantly, how should Snow even begin to explain this situation?

Words were chewed on for several seconds. Once he started speaking, he hesitated. "I…wanted to be different than everyone else. We were different than everyone else. It just…made sense."

He felt the sharp gaze of those crystalline eyes. "Different? You mean, branded?"

Mental appreciation was given to her for not saying "l'Cie" out loud in a place like this. She remembered some lessons, at least. "That's one reason, yeah."

"And the other reasons?"

Snow looked to her, saw the deep spark of curiosity that spoke of his own nature. It was probably natural to want to get to know more about your parents, wasn't it? He supposed that might be the case, though he had little experience with such feelings. "The other reasons…" he scratched his neck. "I made a mistake once, one that hurt a lot of people." He paused and took a deep breath. "It hurt your mother, too. My promise to Lightning – to your mom – I wanted it to be different, and giving her a ring instead of a necklace was the first way I tried to prove that."

Nora nodded silently by his side and cast her glance off into a store filled with hideous clothing. There was no way she was interested in it. "What was the mistake you made?"

He considered telling her. She had every right to know – and there was no reason to keep it a secret anymore. Everyone had moved on, peace had been made, and Serah and Lightning were best friends again and Snow and Serah were able to awkwardly get along. But this - was it his secret to tell? "I think you should ask your mom about this. She'll probably tell you. I don't know if it should come from me."

"Why not?"

"Because, Nora. Just ask your mom. You'll understand why."

There was a moment where she didn't respond to him, and that moment filled Snow with some tension that he didn't understand. Finally his daughter nodded and cast her eyes back to him. "All right." She looked back at the store with the god-awful designer wear. "Wanna go try that crap on and make fun of everyone that wears it?"

Snow quietly thanked whoever was watching out for him before grinning. "Hell yes." He touched her arm and gently pressed her forward.

Lightning peeked into the living room and smirked at the sight.

The curls of an afro, surrounded by two puffs of gold and white. All three sleeping on the blanket spread across the floor.

They're finally asleep. Don't know how Sazh worked his magic.

It was a miracle, really. The twins never napped. They were two demons from hell who lived to terrorize anyone and everyone in the household, never relenting until the house was a whirlwind of chaos and destruction, until their mother was ready to snap and huddle in a corner on the verge of tears. She couldn't even remember the last time they had settled down for five minutes during the day, and yet here they were, sleeping next to Sazh, who had arrived maybe twenty minutes prior complaining of a backache.

What the hell did he give them?

She saw a figure of blonde and tan silently creep down the stairs, appraising the scene below him with an upraised brow. He cast Lightning a gaze that was just as confused as hers. Not knowing what to respond with, she shook her head helplessly.

Gingerly her son creeped over to her side, watching his younger siblings and his uncle sleep for a few seconds before a breathy sigh escaped from him.

She glanced over at the boy and smiled to herself. He was the ghost of his father, from the oversized feet to the dashing smile that he freely offered to everyone. She never thought there was anything of her in him, but Snow often said there were nuggets of her personality deposited all over the place within her eldest son. She supposed that could have been true, that maybe he was still trying to grow into all the facets of his personality in the same way he was trying to grow into the strong, lumbering body he'd inherited and the name that had been passed to him.

Her eyes swiveled to the sleeping forms in the living room before looking back to her son. "Fang."

"What?"

"Bored?"

"Yeah."

"Good." She tilted her head back. "Freezer's almost empty. Let's kill something."

Fang cracked his knuckles and grinned. "Finally."