Epilogue: What We Believe In

Autumn

"Snooooooow! Someone's at the door! Could you get it?" Serah wasn't sure if her yell had been loud enough for him to hear—the burly blond was humming to himself in the hallway. She smiled to herself: Snow was good at many things… but music wasn't one of them. She couldn't even be sure that he'd heard the doorbell to the apartment ring, much less heard her voice over his loud voice.

It was a few heartbeats after that that she heard him stop humming. "Did you say something?" Trying to suppress a giggle, Serah made her way out of the bathroom, pink hair wrapped in a sunshine yellow fluffy towel.

"Yes." Mock-resting her hands on her hips, she tried to glare at him under damp pink bangs. It didn't work—not just because she wasn't good at glaring at anyone to begin with, but because her sister was so much better at it. "Get the door."

Snapping a playful salute, Snow ambled his way over to the wooden doorframe, giving her his usual customary grin. "Yes ma'am!" Wrenching open the door ungraciously earned him another glare—a real one this time, as Serah spotted her sister from behind Snow's bulk.

Cowering from the icy blue gaze, Serah couldn't hold back the giggles this time. I never thought Snow would be scared of someone… but I guess I was wrong. Leaning over his retreating frame, Serah pulled her arms around her sister's slender shoulders, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. "Don't be mad, Light," she chided playfully. "He only got the door because I was in the shower."

Her sister wasn't convinced. After returning the brisk hug, Serah could feel that she was still glaring pointedly at Snow over her head. "He didn't have to open it with enough force to rip it off," she muttered under her breath.

But if that was all, then something was on her sister's mind tonight. There was none of the usual bickering—that Serah thoroughly enjoyed—and when her sister bought Snow's usual grin without a comment, she knew there was something up.

Following her as Light went to sit down at the dining table, Serah absentmindedly played with the armband on her sister's right arm, the same one that decorated her own. "Something the matter?" she asked lightly.

That earned her a glare of her own as Light arched an eyebrow at her. "Funny that you should ask." There was a pause in which Serah knew her sister was trying to pick the right words to explain—that silence had also earned Snow's silence: the big man was sitting on the couch opposite, clearly waiting for some indication of a beginning. "It's… well, nothing's wrong," she continued. "I got a job."

It was proof of how much that one statement had actually meant to her sister when she didn't resist nor try to pull away from the second embrace Serah endowed on her that evening. "But that also means I'll be moving out," she warned quietly. "I can't—Never mind." Light had noticed the look on her face.

"Awh, does it really? And I was having so much fun bugging you too," complained Snow from the couch. Serah watched her sister glare at him again, her icy expression freezing the grin on his face.

"And that's exactly what I won't be missing about this place," she muttered quietly. "Serah, don't look at me like that—you're an adult and you can certainly live by yourself. Heck, you even have him," emphasizing the pronoun with an accusing finger," to keep you happy. You should be glad to get rid of me."

Serah rested her hands on her sister's shoulders again, noting with the usual pang in her stomach at the jagged scar that decorated the skin of the left. "But you'll come back to visit us?"

Light rolled her eyes. "Serah, I can come and tuck you in every night if that's what you want."

I won't lie.

I won't pretend that I wasn't hurt by everything that's happened. But you know what? It makes moments like this all the more enjoyable… all the more meaningful because they happened. Because I can look at what I have now, and the people that care about me, and confidently say that my future is in my own hands now.

'Light'. It took us so, so long to come up with a compromise for your name. It wasn't that I didn't understand that you didn't want to be called 'Claire', it was that I knew I could never get used to 'Lightning'.

But looking back on it now… even that argument—if it could be called that—was worth every moment, for both the pain and the happiness that came with it.

Standing on the balcony, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze, Serah didn't notice Snow coming up behind her until he was standing beside her; one arm snaking its way across her shoulders, she didn't hesitate to lean her head against his.

"You know what day it is?" he asked quietly, a teasing tone in his voice.

Glancing upwards, she shook her head. "No. What day is it?"

"A year to the day we met," came the solemn reply. She found that she couldn't look away from his intense ocean blue gaze. "It's been one hell of a year, hasn't it?"

You could say that. There had been so many ups and downs, of moments of exposure and self-discovery, of weakness and strength, but she couldn't walk away from it just like that. No. It's been the most meaningful year of my life... and I can say, without lying to myself or anyone else, that I wouldn't change it all. "But it's… It came out right… in the end." The words were quiet and simple, but they were in no way an accurate reflection of what the past year had been. And it's been something I can't put into words.

"That's true," laughed Snow. "But it also made me realize something else. It'll probably sound old to you… but I think now's an appropriate time to say it, while your sister's in the shower so she can't harp on about it."

She returned his laugh with a smile of her own. "Nothing you say will be dumb," she murmured quietly. After all… it was because of what you said… the confidence you instilled in me… that allowed all of this to happen. Without you, none of this would have ever been possible.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

The crisp autumn breeze plucked at stray strands of pink hair, but Lightning was no longer afraid of the wind and what changes it might've brought. She still hadn't told Serah exactly where she was working, but it was one of those things that she knew her sister would worry about. And she won't accept that I've gone until I'm gone.

Pausing in front of the building, staring through the translucent glass at the Sanctum logo emblazoned on the wall inside, she stuffed her hands into her pockets.

It had been on a whim that she'd thought of applying to the army. Lightning had known that she couldn't get a professional job—after all, what decent profession would hire someone who hadn't even graduated high school? It hadn't occurred to her the possibility of being a soldier until she'd passed the headquarters in downtown Eden on a shopping trip for Serah.

She'd hidden that fact from her sister, only because she'd known Serah wouldn't approve of the thought of her going to fight again. And that, in itself, was funny, because it was the only thing she knew how to do. Every single facet of the life I have now… I've been fighting for. It's the only thing I have left that's, well… me.

She also hadn't been sure if her background would let her in—after all, it was nothing to be proud of. But being honest—blatantly honest—something that had always been instilled in her, had been drawn out by that past. People I cared about… have been hurt because I wasn't honest. So this time…

And it was that honesty that had ultimately given her something to gain—she had been upfront about her past, but also adamant in what she wanted to do. It's stupid… I know, but… I want to make sure that the world I'm from is a world that won't have to exist anymore. She hadn't been sure if it was that sentiment that had gotten her the stamp of approval, but it didn't matter now.

For a moment, she rested her hands on the cold glass of the entrance, staring at her slender fingers and the jagged scar on the back of her right palm. Lightning knew perfectly well that it wouldn't go away—no amount of skin treatment would be able to hide it—but there was no need to. It's part of who I am. Just like everything else that's happened to me and just like everything else I'm about to embrace.

Taking a breath, she took the necessary step forward to make the automatic door slide open.

It was time to start again.

Fin.

And so, with that, we are at the end.

Oh my goodness... it's been an amazing roller coaster of ups and downs, like Snow said, and I'd be lying if I said this wasn't a great experience. For once, emotional content has been the forefront of a story I've written and it's really gotten to me—I don't think I can look at a piece of writing again without thinking about the necessary emotions to push on my characters to make them as realistic as possible.

With that, here begins my long list of thanks:

To my reviewers: FalconTytus, rain0205, GKmader, Mylaervain, Seeker of the Skies, Tamaki, KeeepSmiling, Whistlewind Wolf, saphir, Yukage and my awesome LadyAlaska.
To my supporters: every single one of you that's either favourited or alerted this story.

This story couldn't have been what it is without you all.

There is a rough outline of a sequel planned for Unwritten, but for several reasons it won't be out for a good while yet: I have another fic to finish—Revenant Wings— and there are some other ideas I'd like to explore for my own FFXIII-3 before I'll be able to get around to the sequel to this one. (And also to note that the sequel planned is going to mainly Hoperai... I'm sorry, I'm a Hoperai shipper and things just happen that way. Not that Snow and Serah won't be in it, but... I think you get the idea)

So with that, I will catch you guys all later, whether you guys are following RW, or whether you guys are gonna stick around and wait for the months it'll take me to put up a sequel.

Hearts!