Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy.
The Resistance by Muse hath mercilessly seized me (grammar?!)! As have your reviews! You've successfully turned me into a melting cheese, or even better, a swelling marshmallow (if you haven't tried putting marshmallows in the microwave, I implore you to do so right now – then you'll see how I feel)
Uh, I've planned to use the Avalanche crew as cast in this story too (no matter what you say!), but this is an AU (another universe/our universe) fanfic, so that doesn't mean they're going to be Sephiroth's enemies... Unless you furiously demand them to be...
School Princess, Solomon and Bad News
Sephiroth was almost certain now that Shinra had lost track of him.
This, he believed, was thanks to his trip to London a while back, after which he had taken out a number of remnants on his way back. After all, just as the remnants could sense him, he could sense them. The only problem was that since they were weak compared to himself, it was much harder for him to pinpoint their presences than it was for them to trace his. Nevertheless, he had taken out every single remnant he found. And in case there were remnants left that had passed his notice, he spent his weekends – as well as weekdays after work – flying as far away as possible. That way, if there were remnants left who tried to trace him, they would go off track, or in circles, even. It was slightly tiring, but not nearly enough to faze him.
But it was bothersome nonetheless.
And now, in addition to Shinra, another rather meddlesome person was hounding him.
Paige.
She had caught the briefest of glimpses of him flying on the day of their field trip. Truth be told, he had been so perplexed at finding her completely unharmed that he had hesitated before landing at the riverside on which she huddled. After that, despite his attempts to convince her he hadn't been flying, she did not relent.
Speaking of Paige...
Ever since the the dancing lessons at her school – no, before that, perhaps ever since the incident with the bed sheets – she had assumed a remarkably cold mask every time she was around him. At most, her face changed from looking like that of a statue to that of an ice sculpture. Recently, after having seen him fly (if only for a split second) she had reinforced that mask and looked colder than ever before.
An air of distrust hovered about her whenever Sephiroth was close.
He wanted it to be gone. Her facade must be crushed.
He would take it upon himself to vanquish it.
Lately, Sephiroth had been sending her dark, angry, malicious and dissatisfied glances of elfish fire.
The glares were so strong her very soul trembled – all the more reason to maintain her guard to the utmost of her ability.
At the moment she was making breakfast, her senses dulled by the tiredness of the particularly cold, early autumn morning. It was so cold outside it was a wonder it hadn't started snowing yet. Then, briefly, the air behind her shifted. Even though she had the door to the small entrance hall within her view, and despite the fact that she hadn't seen anyone pass through it, she knew with certainty that Sephiroth was standing right behind her. For a moment she half expected him to attack her or attempt to scare her with a low rumble of a whisper, so she stood stiff, waiting.
"Children of the sun, watch out, he's comin' for ya," said John Smoth. Somehow, the parrot made her immensely relieved. At least she had one ally.
"...Turn around," Sephiroth ordered, his dark, velvety voice peeling off her layers of defence. She spent some long seconds before she managed to build it up again. Then she slowly turned around. Coldly, through half shut eyes and with a guarded face, she looked him in the face.
"Will you tell me what it takes..." he started, studying he so intently she almost looked away. "... to rid your face of that mask you keep so stubbornly?"
And his voice was so dark – so tinged with demand, with no room for denial – that Paige felt like he was stabbing her. Clenching her teeth, she kept her face unmoving. That was the only thing she knew how to do against him. And now he asked her how he could remove it? At his will?
His face changed then, and her insides went cold. From nowhere, a shadow came over his eyes and he looked down at her with the air of one who wishes harm. Deep dissatisfaction tainted his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned down as Paige continued to avoid answering him. Her breakfast was definitely long forgotten. Nonetheless, this malicious face was something she had seen on his face before, and so she found she could resist it, if only for a little-bitty, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny moment.
"I'm not talking," she said defiantly.
Oh, how brave she felt.
And oh, how utterly foolish she was to speak those words.
Soon, either enraged with her defiance or amused to no ends by it, his face broke in a heavy, wolfish grin. Even though his mouth was still closed, his vivid expression seemed to her to speak of all that was in his mind, perhaps also of things he had suffered before and that he had somehow overcome. In his face she saw defiance and strength that went so far beyond her own that she felt powerless. Drained, she stepped back until she hit the edge of the kitchen counter. Sephiroth's eyes were bathed in even darker shadows as his frown deepened, and he leaned forward, grin still intact. Without stepping closer, he placed one hand on each side of her. Their faces were only inches apart. Paige felt his calm, cool breath on her face and struggled not to swallow.
By now, her expression was only a shell – underneath she was scared witless. That, she would admit anytime.
But even if she was afraid, that didn't have to mean she had to show it on her face.
"I'll show you nothing of what I feel," she said, cowering before him. Although her face didn't show any expression, she was short on breath. Towering in front of her, over her, Sephiroth seemed so invulnerable – like nobody could deny him what he wanted. Yet she desperately tried to hold her ground, staying quiet and still.
"Why?" he demanded, his grin gradually fading. Although he didn't move closer, with just a slight flicker of his eyes he seemed to drill through her blue eyes and into her mind. She couldn't stand it – his gaze was so strong she averted her eyes.
Because you already know how I feel and what I feel. Fear, dread, terror, but also anger – a furiously unrelenting wish to resist him.
The pure and raw dread went to the depths of her heart. Yet, filtering through her fear, an undeniable excitement surfaced – excitement that she could stand her ground in his presence. And more hidden than those emotions ran something else, something that was wider and deeper and more profound even than her dislike for the way Sephiroth treated her.
"Because it's my only defence against you."
Slowly Paige placed her hands on both his arms and tried to push them away. Once she realized that it was literally impossible (and also that his arms were like rock and could crush her like she was an insect made of particularly fragile porcelain) she gingerly moved her arms away, flustered.
"Aaand I'm totally gonna faint in your arms if you don't move." That seemed like a good enough excuse. She couldn't keep her voice as straight as her face, though. It was more of a whisper, and betrayed some of her fear.
Something flickered in his eyes, and he slowly moved away. For a brief moment it was as if the things Paige had just said were too human for him to spend time on. She wasn't worth it.
Nonetheless, she breathed with immense relief as he turned away.
"Close call," said John Smoth, squawking very quietly as he watched Sephiroth leave the room. "Whadda beautiful day ta be free," he added – one of his many favorite lines. Sometimes she could have sworn the bird was more intelligent than he let on. How old was he? Macaws could get really old. The bird was at least as old as Paige – he'd been around since before she was born, according to her mother.
The week passed without anything extremely special happening. The only thing that changed from day to day was the tension between Paige and Sephiroth. Every time they were in the same room she found herself furiously wishing to throw herself behind the closest piece of furniture to take cover.
On Friday, after the last lessons were over, Paige only had to deliver an essay she had written before she went home. Tiredly walking up the stairs in the main building, towards the teachers' working rooms, she almost walked into another student. When she looked up, she inwardly shouted a string of profanities she would never otherwise have dreamed of uttering in anybody's presence.
The school princess.
Standing before her (or actually above her, as Paige still had one step to go of the stairs), the woman peered down, her light golden tan skin catching the sunlight that fell through the window behind her. Paige almost wrinkled her nose. The school princess' flowing, auburn hair had a halo-like shine about it thanks to the sun at her back, but it wasn't strong enough to leave her face in the shade. She had obviously put on some lip gloss recently, because her lips shimmered. Above her eyes lay a slightly darker layer of eye shadow, and her eyelashes were thick with mascara. Honey eyes glowed warmly – deceptively – down at Paige. Her wavy hair was almost as long as Sephiroth's, Paige noted with slight annoyance. She was wearing high-heeled, short boots and black jeans. About her shoulders a scarlet red knitted cardigan hung loosely. Her wrists were adorned with a small, golden watch, several thin bracelets and other fashionable accessories that Paige wouldn't know how to wear, and her neck and her ears were dressed with a thin golden bracelet and jade gems.
Paige couldn't resist.
"Your honor," she said and gave a mock bow.
"Paige," said the princess, her sweet, glassy voice sounding fragile and strong at the same time. Nothing compared to Sephiroth, though.
And then, to Paige's horror, Sephiroth appeared behind the school princess and stopped not too far away. The princess didn't see him.
"You need to stop this, Paige. Solomon's suffering, and it's your fault." A sudden pang of guilt distracted her. She already knew Solomon was feeling bad about having pushed her on the field trip, but she was alive and all right. And she didn't blame him. It wasn't even his fault. Paige was the one who had tripped over the edge.
"You've told me again and again to stay away from him, and... I've tried. Now it seems to me like you want the opposite...?" Paige questioned, her face guarded. The school princess wanted her to approach Solomon and beg for forgiveness? If she did, Solomon would never again leave her in peace.
A dark flash of anger crossed the princess' face.
"Just apologize! Then simply stay away," she demanded, her eyebrows curving so dramatically Paige was distracted for a moment.
She didn't really have anything to apologize for – except having tried to stay away from Solomon. But she didn't want a long discussion to ensue.
"Ok, I will. I'll deliver this essay to the teacher first, though," she said.
And as she stepped up – the final step of the staircase – it seemed as if the school princess was about to shove her. Instinctively Paige stepped back, careful not to stumble. That would be stupid and extremely embarrassing, and nobody would ever let her forget it.
"Sierra!" she exclaimed, surprising herself. "...Sorry. Sierra, meet... our P.E. teacher," said Paige, carefully avoiding to speak Sephiroth's name. Sierra, the school princess, turned abruptly and covered her surprise with a slightly superior look. For half a second Paige entertained the thought of Sierra turning around to see nobody at all – that would be a brag-worthy thing for Paige, had it happened. Alas, Sephiroth was still standing there.
"And Phys. Ed. teacher, this is... Sierra," she said. The main hall on the floor below was full of students, and it was a little noisy, so she added something under her breath – too low for Sierra to hear; "And her surname's Nevada, 'cause she's so high and mighty." It was a very common, not so good joke that was often passed between the few who didn't like Sierra too much. Sephiroth arched an eyebrow.
"... Did you just... say something?" Sierra asked, suspicious.
"No," Paige said monotonously, once more walking up a step to pass Sierra.
"Wait! ...Solomon – he's down there. Go apologize-"
And so, Sierra gave Paige a shove that was just a little bit too forceful – caused by Sierra's annoyance, obviously. Perhaps she would try to feign innocence later; "It wasn't my fault – I didn't do it on purpose! It was an accident!" At that thought, Paige almost let her face break into a furious mask. But Sephiroth was there, so she closed her face completely. It must look amusing – she was falling backwards and, as she did, she was displaying utter disinterest.
The first pain came when she landed on her back – or rather, her backpack. Then the pain continued up her neck as she rolled down the stairs, her eyes clenched shut and her arms in front of her.
Then, all too soon, her fall was stopped by something soft and warm and safe and bone-chillingly terrifying.
Solomon.
She knew it even before she opened her eyes. When she hit him, he had given a short, muffled "Auff-". That was enough for her to recognize his voice. His arms were around her, and for the first time in history he was embracing her. She was imprisoned in his arms. Knowing that her fear no doubt broke through any barrier she had built, she clasped her face with her hands and held her breath – horrified that she might catch a whiff of Solomon's scent and remember it later. Through it all, though, she knew that this fear was different from the fear she had of Sephiroth – it didn't stick in the depths of her heart, but in the marrow of her bones.
Nothing reached her senses at all. There was no sound and she didn't want to open her eyes. She refused to breathe in his smell, and she desperately tried to will away the feeling of his touch as he carefully unwound his arms from around her.
"...Paige?" Solomon said, his voice soft, yet breaking the silence like a blade.
She didn't answer. To her horror, she was trembling furiously.
"Paige?" he asked again, worry breaking through the softness. At the same time, Paige tried to dispel her own shock by mentally thanking her backpack for existing. Without it, she would currently be nestled much closer to Solomon's chest than she could physically (or mentally) handle.
Paige cleared her voice and summoned a mental image of Sephiroth. Thanks to that, she managed to close her face, and slowly removed her hands from her eyes.
"I'm fine. Thanks." She felt Solomon sigh with relief.
Before she knew it, she was on her feet in front of him. They were halfway down the stairs, and Solomon was on his knees before her. This startled her, and she stepped down next to him – there was no reason to look down on him – that sort of thing would make her feel like Sierra. Reluctantly, she looked up to the school princess. Sierra looked shocked, in a surprisingly regretful way. With a stab Paige realized that if Solomon had seen Sierra pushing her, he might avoid Sierra and blame her for who knew how long. As a result, he could end up following Paige even more than he already did.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Paige, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I just-" Sierra stuttered, hurrying down to where they stood. She was either being honest or putting on a flawless show to protect her reputation. Perhaps a mix of both.
"It's okay, no harm done. Solomon helped me," Paige said, looking at Sierra while trying not to see Solomon in her peripheral vision. He had gone very still. When Paige glanced up the stairs, Sephiroth was gone.
Why was he gone …?
"Are you sure?" Sierra asked.
"Huh? Yeah. Anyway," Paige started, forcing herself to turn to Solomon. "Thanks for catching me." Her face was guarded, but she made sure she didn't look indifferent – if she did, she'd look like she didn't care the least about him. To tell the truth, she had never disliked Solomon, despite what she might have said about him to Sephiroth. But she did fear him. His kindness, his affection, his tenderly spoken words and the genuine feelings behind them... These were things she didn't know how to deal with.
"No problem. I'm glad you're all right," he said, giving a careful smile.
"One more thing. About the field trip-" Here, Solomon's face twisted very briefly with pain and regret, then he looked at her, his anxious expression and piercing blue eyes throwing chains around her and holding her fast. Paige tried to see through him, and to let her eyes blur, but it was practically impossible.
"Really, I'm fine. It was my fault. I started it. I pushed you away and you pushed back, and the others joined. Besides, even after you pushed me, I was the one who made a fool of myself and stepped back over the edge, into thin air."
A silence followed. Solomon stared at her, his blond hair and his shirt ruffled after stopping Paige's fall. He didn't seem to know what to say – if what Paige said was good or bad for him. Was he, perhaps, thinking about refusing that it was her fault?
"If you feel guilty about pushing me, there's no need. I'm alive and well," Paige said. To make up for the dramatic words she was using, her face was turning more stoic by the second. "And I'm sorry for making you feel guilty," she added.
This time Solomon frowned, his dangerously clear, sky blue eyes piercing hers. Sierra, feeling ignored, looked between the two of them with exaggerated intensity, her auburn, wavy hair flowing over her shoulders.
"Paige!" Solomon exclaimed, grabbing her shoulders. "There's no reason at all for you to apologize! I'm the one who should say I'm sorry!" he claimed, his voice quiet, yet unbearably intense. Paige didn't even hear what he was saying. She was about to pee in her pants with fear – he might be holding her shoulders gently, but it was his gentleness that shook her. What possessed him to be gentle towards her?
Feeling very uneasy, she touched one of his wrists to pry him off. Solomon realized, however, and let go. He looked like he was about to apologize again.
"You've already told me you're sorry. Every week, at least once a day, sometimes many times each lesson, ever since the field trip." To take some seriousness away from her words Paige risked a tiny, little smirk. To her surprise, Solomon blushed. Curiosity blasted through his initial confusion and he smiled back. In turn, Paige stepped away and was suddenly in an extreme hurry. Perhaps that smirk was a move she shouldn't have made. With fear fuelling her, she gravely and stoically waved her hand and muttered her goodbyes while storming up the stairs to deliver her essay.
The moment she got home, relief washed through her. She walked into the living room feeling so serene that John Smoth said "You ma' lady, I'm ya' man!" When she saw that Sephiroth wasn't there, she allowed herself a rare, healthy grin.
Then the house phone sounded. Momentarily disturbed, Paige walked over to the kitchen isle and answered the call.
"Hello?" she said.
"Paige?" said the other person.
"...Hey, mum! Is something the matter?" Paige narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
"Um, well, I was thinking... This weekend..."
This... weekend? Oh no. No. Please, no. Not now, when she had finally grasped the meaning of peace and freedom and wellbeing for the first time in so long...
"Mum, I-"
"Can you look after Bell?"
...Huh? False family visit alarm?
"Only Bell? ...Why?" Paige asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, Aaron is working and Benjamin is on a school trip, and I just got called in by some people at work. I can't decline. Bell can't be home alone..."
"What about kindergarten, or daycare? Or neighbours?" Not that Paige complained that Bell was coming over. It was much better than the whole family visiting.
"Ah, the kindergarten is closed because some of the employees have the flu, and I think the same is the case with the daycare... All our neighbours are either working or not home."
"...Okay. Ship Bell here, then."
Bell was all right. She was the cutest, most innocent little girl in the world. Nothing could go wrong.
About two hours later, she heard the sound of a familiar vehicle and hurried outside. Sephiroth still wasn't back. He was sometimes gone during the weekends, though.
Driving up the old road to Paige's tiny house, a motorbike with two people on it slowly approached. Sitting in front – with a helmet that was much too big – little Bell sat safely, her pink clothes barely visible underneath her balloon-like winter jacket. In her arms Paige spotted a doll. Behind her, a man with spiky blond hair sat. Obviously he hadn't trusted Bell to sit behind him and hold on, so she sat safely in front of him, with his arms as security. To add to that, he had probably let her borrow his helmet, because he wasn't wearing any.
When he came close enough he pulled up and turned off the engine of his monstrous bike. With surprising ease, he removed Bell's helmet and let her down to the ground. She smiled up at him, her chocolate eyes warm and her brown hair messy. The blond man gave her the smallest of smiles, then turned to Paige.
"Thanks for driving Bell here," Paige said, uncertain what else to say. She didn't know this guy at all, except that he and his friends lived in the area, and that her mother knew them better than her, despite the fact that her mother was older. She knew that one of this guy's friends was the town doctor, though: The one named Cid, who wasn't afraid to let people know how much he hated his work (which, according to himself, was a job that suited his woman a lot better than him). Paige knew Cid was a pilot, though.
But what was this guy's name, again? The one with the huge motorcycle?
"Hope she wasn't any trouble," Paige said, knowing her little sister wouldn't harm anyone in the world.
"...She wasn't," he said.
An uncomfortable silence ensued – the sort of silence that sometimes occurs when two not-so-chatty persons are in the same place, and nobody else is there to give them something to talk about. Surprisingly, he was the one who spoke first.
"You... If you're planning to be outside today, be careful," he said, almost mumbling, turning to look at the forest behind her small house.
"Huh? Why?"
He turned and gave her a measuring look.
"...Haven't you watched the news?" he asked quietly.
The news...?
"No... But... I'll have a look later, promise," she said, giving an affirmative nod.
And then yet another, longer silence ensued.
"Bye, Cloud!" said Bell suddenly, her light, happy voice fluttering to their ears like butterflies and sparkles and rainbows and starlight. Paige couldn't help it – it had been too long since she'd heard Bell's voice – she instantaneously melted inside and smiled warmly at the joyful little girl. The grin was pasted on her face and she found it near impossible to stop smiling.
"... Bye," said the man (who was named Cloud, if Bell was correct), smiling also.
Then, with minor difficulties, he turned his monstrous motorcycle and left.
The rest of the day was spent with Bell. From the minute Cloud left, Paige smiled and laughed so much her face hurt. They made brownies, Paige watched Bell play with her doll (a baby doll this time, and not a porcelain lookalike), they engaged in witty conversation with John Smoth ("Hold my purse!" he repeated, over and over again), and went outside to bask in the late autumn sun. There, they soon found out it was impossible to walk around in the garden because the grass (and the bushes and the other mysterious plants) was too tall. As such, Paige instructed Bell to walk behind her while she mowed the grass. Like usual, mowing the mess that was the garden growth took furious effort and strength. To add to it, Bell was laughing so merrily at Paige's efforts that Paige laughed too, and became short on breath in no time at all. It was oddly cold outside, though, so before long their noses turned red. This, Bell found particularly funny.
Before it got too dark and cold outside, they went back in and Paige made them warm chocolate. Bell's delight was just about to make Paige's face break into yet another embarrassingly large, warm smile, but she stopped short when she heard the main door open and close.
Sephiroth came inside, pausing only briefly when he saw Bell, and sat down in the three-seat sofa. Bell and Paige, who sat in the two-seat one, looked at him questioningly. Bell picked up one of Paige's hands.
"...You're late," stated Paige, her face serious. Bell found this hilarious for some reason, and laughed out loud. Paige clenched her teeth to keep herself from smiling also.
"Because of Shinra," said Sephiroth. "Have you not watched the news?"
Again the news. She still hadn't checked them.
"No. Why?" she asked. Sephiroth's jade eyes flickered to Bell, as if speculating whether or not she was old enough to hear.
"... Shinra has unleashed beasts in different places all over the world."
Huh...?
"Beasts? You mean, lions or bears...?" she inquired incredulously. He sighed impatiently and shook his head, then turned on the television. Before long he found a news channel with pictures that were so real, and that came from so many different sources, that they couldn't possibly be fake.
Paige covered Bell's eyes. Her little sister didn't protest, humming a song happily, unknowingly. Personally, Paige had felt better. She honestly, truly couldn't believe the truth of what she was seeing. It had to be a trick. Pictures, both still and moving ones, shuffled on and off the screen. There were muscular, bear-like creatures without fur, and with wrong colors, and other, smaller ones with disproportionate tusks and things growing out of their backs, and even smaller things that flew or hovered without wings, and pictures of great shadows or silhouettes right below the surface of lakes and seas, as well as a number of mutated creatures with many heads and even more wings. They were all over the world, to boot, and even that was a fact that was hard to comprehend. According to reports, most of them were easy to kill – except the large, bulky ones – but once killed, the beasts vanished into thin air. Not even a skeleton remained. In the background, a reporter was talking fast about measures that were to be taken. Apparently, a temporary right to keep and use weapons against the beasts was being negotiated.
John Smoth squawked. "Hold my purse!" he screeched as he flew from his wooden T-stand to the top of the shelf behind him and rustled his feathers. "Shinra!" he repeated in between different bird noises and hip-hop slang words.
Most of the monsters were apparently in America. If Sephiroth was right about Shinra being behind this, did they have a vague idea where he was? Were they trying to force him to come out? Or tempt him with powerful monsters or something? In any case, she wasn't feeling very well about this at all. She was already clutching Bell, thinking that tomorrow, they would definitely stay inside, and not go outdoors.
"Um, Sephiroth, mind telling me more about this whole thing?"
R.R.
I've been planning to write and upload this chapter every day for five days now, but time hasn't been on my side... Sorry! I struggled for a bit to make Solomon likeable. Thanks an enormous bunch for your awesome reviews!
