The Hidden L'Cie

What had happened to Claire? 

Serah wondered this to herself as she lay on her entry couch; her door wide open, arms splayed up along the couch's cool, crinkly rests. Rain pitter-pattered onto the dirt alley, and throughout the surrounding spit of woods, of which were her home. She watched the dancing of mud puddles by the door, while she pondered this. 

It happened maybe ten or fifteen minutes ago. Her husband had called, presumably at the time of Claire's arrival, and told her, almost drowned out by the roaring of his velocycle, 'We need to talk', before suddenly hanging up. The oaf. 

Moments before that, Serah was ready to complete her plans again: of cooking the food for Claire's small housewarming party. Her motivation to do it was still sincere, aided by the weeks-or-month long build-up of excitement, all to do with her sister's return. 

Throughout her busy day of teaching, Serah felt the drums of happiness beat around her feet, energising her every step, as she travelled to and fro the school's different corridors. When she entered her homeroom, a loudmouth student had even commented on her unusually brighter mood. When the other children joined in the chorus, it felt good, admittedly. Likewise did her colleagues notice her peculiar amount of perkiness. 

However, from inquiring further at each of these exchanges, Serah had also learnt that she wasn't normally 'perky' or in the best of moods most of the time. That she was mostly serious, and even a meanie at times. She remembered that 'Meanie Miss Farron' was a moniker she had been hearing from her students for years now. She certainly was strict whenever her students knowingly made trouble, or they'd sometimes forgotten to do their homework. 

And her style, contrary to her actual personality, maybe had something to do with her upbringing, and how she was raised by Claire, in the home of their parents after they had died. The influence those times had on her. 

And such is the reason for her excitement, her sister. Because today was the day she'd be finally moving to the Rest, to live with them all, permanently. 

Serah still felt that high when she returned home, despite also feeling exhausted. She needed a break, of course, so she lay on the nearest couch and had slept easily... until she woke up to a buzz, and answered her transceiver. Now, sitting up on the couch, rather than anything else, Serah was content to mull over: what exactly her husband meant by his words. 

"We need to talk." 

Unfortunately, all roads led to it being about her. 

With a settling realisation, subtle trepidation came to dampen Serah's once brighter mood; just to go with the rain outside. She gulped down the forming lump. And—from the sounds of distant thunder—what were the signs of a coming storm. 

 What else could she do but wait for her sister? It was frustrating, but that's what she'd do. Then she would ask her. Serah picked herself off the couch, then hovered into the kitchen. There, she saw her youngest daughter at the dining table, who, very cutely, had her elbow raised to the desk and a hand to her chin. "Sorry Eve," said Serah with a laugh. "I'm all finished with the cooking, well, on your end. Thanks!" 

Eve grumbled out the affirmative, before standing from her seat. The mother offered a high five for her help on her way out, that she accepted after a small bout of reluctance. She climbed up the stairs, towards her and her sister's bedroom. 

Serah faced the cooking once again and picked up a wooden spoon beside the stove. When she opened the lid of the cast iron pot, bellows of fragrant steam gushed out. She gave the curry, which mildly bubbled a strikingly yellow broth, a good stir. Grabbing only a spoonful, she blew on it. She sucked the smallest of sips, and straight away enjoyed the rich combination of stewy flavours. No need for salt. But perhaps, there was the need for another giffon and its seeds, for spice. 

Suddenly, she heard rapping at the door. That was fast. 

As she moved into the view of the entry, she noticed him—his taller frame, dark skin, and typical baggy, faded green jumper under his khaki vest—her surprise morphed into a knowing grin, which then raised to exclamation. "Ah—hey Sazh!" 

"Hey Serah! Been well?" He seemed genuinely happy to see her, noted by his warm tone and expression. 

She offered the older man a hug which he accepted, wooden spoon still in tow. As they embraced, she gave him an extra squeeze, just as a little show of how much they valued him. 

 "Thank you. Good to see you." 

"Yeah, I've been perfect, how about you?" she asked him after breaking off. She offered the chair of the dining table which her daughter had picked out earlier. "Yeah, 'been alright. Although, the health's been catching up to me." 

As he sat down, did Sazh relax audibly—letting out a fatigued and drawn out groan of sorts. It was just one of those graces Serah was well aware left those once they reached and continued maturing past a certain age. She chuckled. 

 "So, has the party moved over here?" he asked her as she placed some tea in front of him. 

"No, we're only here because I need to do the cooking, since Claire's house's gas isn't working, for whatever reason." 

"Huh? The gas, you say?" 

They spent time talking about the events of the day and recent news. Serah learnt that nothing much had changed: there being the same old story of the Rest having too much demand for employment and not enough hands to meet such needs, of a rapidly developing society. It was why there was such fruitful work for Snow and the mob, and they'd taken those jobs as soon as they'd moved into the Rest. It didn't take long for the conversation to inevitably turn to the main character of the day, or even month's, news; and daresay, beyond even that. 

"So, she'll finally be living here, huh? Ol' soldier girl." 

"Yep, she is." Excitement once again brimmed within Serah, the feeling restored. Sazh had asked her why her sister decided to make the move now. 

"Something about wanting to spend more time with family and friends; and I feel the girls had something to do with it." 

"Yeah? Your eldest loves her. Idolises her." 

Serah laughed. "That's true, she does." 

"Yeah. It's pretty cute." 

"She'd come here often during her break periods from work, spending days travelling on trains, back and forth. Way too much time spent travelling. And yet, we could tell that—her visits here were what she looked forward to the most. Also. Amodar, an old superior of hers from her GC days, got in touch." Sazh's eyebrows perked up. "He found her a job at the Rest." 

"Really? I heard about the new job. That's good; I guess now is the perfect time for her, for change." 

"Mm-hm. Also…" should she tell him? "I think she's probably thinking about settling down." 

"She's settling down?" Sazh blurted out with laughter. "Lightning? That's great—truly, all the best to her—but I wonder though, who would be her partner? She's the killer of Gods!" Serah laughed. 

"She's not exactly princess charming either. Can't imagine ol' soldier girl telling her future boyfriend—y'know, that cute guy she's been having those coffees and dinners with, that she was that l'Cie. The leader of the legendary band of l'Cie that took down the Sanctum—and raised a lot of hell in the process!" 

"Yeah, it would be difficult for her, wouldn't it?" wondered aloud Serah, with a giggle. 

"Maybe she's met someone from the compound?" 

"I don't think so…" 

Serah opened her mouth, but remembering the news from before—not knowing the specifics of Snow's words—closed it, keeping whatever the thought shut. 

"What about Hope?" 

Eh? 

Serah glanced back at Sazh, and suspected a hidden smile beneath that mug of tea she had offered him earlier. "He's twenty five or something now, ripe-picking." 

"Huh?" Serah loled. 

As Serah's mind caught up to the old man, she noted his revealed smile showed glimpses of the subtlest of grins. As if he were stoking fires he was in no way responsible of putting out. 

"Hope for my sister?" Serah could only blurt out. "I'm not sure." Of course, though, she had thought about it. 

"He could be an option for soldier girl, well, if he wasn't already taken. A smart, handsome boy like that, with a good career prospect, they don't stay single long—just sayin'". 

Serah shook her head, but her smirk remained. Suddenly, before she could respond, the sounds of a velocycle making its landing took over the airwaves. It was Claire. 

"Speak of the devil," Sazh quipped. 

Serah needn't get off her stool, as just a moment after the bike came to a complete stop did her husband appear through the open doorway. The dear oaf glanced at Serah, smiled, and scratched the back of his head. "We're home," he announced, and Serah subtly rolled her eyes. His body swivelled back to the door. 

Claire stepped through. The dark-haired woman, the length of it falling just at the height of her shoulders, in shiny, beautiful tufts, made her bearings, noticing herself and Sazh. Her chipped lips spread into a smile. 

"Hey Sis!" greeted Serah. 

She came up to hug her, releasing the valves of joy. "You're here, finally. I'm glad. Did you get a haircut? I love it!" 

"Yeah," her sister said with a chuckle, clasping the back of her head gently. "I was waiting for Snow, and I got bored." 

So, this is the news? "I'm so glad. How was your journey?" 

"A bit dangerous." Claire loosened the embrace, but stepping back, her eyes turned a fraction serious. "But—there's some news I need to tell you." 

Suddenly, the slight trepidation from earlier came to the fore of Serah. But she listened in. "What is it?" 

"My gas is running." 

Now total confusion took its place. 

"Ah, what?" 

"My gas is running now, just like the rest of ours," she repeated. 

"Ah, no it isn't," Serah pointed out. "But it doesn't make any sense; how would you even know—?" 

"Serah." Claire made a firm look, with the intention of gaining her understanding. "My gas is running now. Do you get me?" 

Upon perhaps then seeing her still looked so confused, Claire leaned over and whispered but with enough raspy exclamation that all present in the connecting rooms could hear her. 

"My powers, they're back."