Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. All you Square Enix employees, I envy you and admire you to the ends of the world.

For this chapter, you may want to know what a Rubik's Cube is... ( google it, haha :)

Aiming to Use the Masamune

Canada it was, then...

To think that the spell had gotten him this far.

Not long ago, he had been in the middle of Russia, as far north as possible, reading documents that were not for him to read, and learning information that he was not supposed to learn. After finding out what the old reports said, he found no reason to stay with Shinra. Instead, he chose to cut off all ties with Shinra and its affiliates – but not before saying his farewells. Said farewells did not go according to plan, however. Certain persons were unwilling to let him leave. With whatever means necessary, they tried to trap and imprison him to stop him from leaving. Whether it was materia, magic, swords or bullets – or a combination of them – he fought them off easily. But only until they became too many for him to handle on his own. But even when matters were turning difficult, he stayed unhurt.

The ones that left actual pain and physical injuries on his body were the Turks and the Soldiers, the latter group having worked under his command in the past. Naturally, as he wished to escape with most of his pride intact (and leave Shinra weakened, of course), he retreated into the labs and searched through the racks of magical items and materias there. He only found a single, ancient object that could be of help: A pale, barely glowing green materia holding the Warp spell. A variation of the Exit spell, so to speak, but its range exceeded the other by far, but not without unspeakable dangers for the user. Needless to say – since the materia had carried him from Russia to Canada and left him completely famished – the materia was incredibly useful and extremely risky to use at the same time. It was not one he would use again. To put it bluntly, the Warp spell had been his last resort. And he had willingly used it, well aware that he could end up in the middle of the ocean, or even in space.

"I'm going to call an ambulance," the woman half-heartedly informed.

"No." His reply was immediate.

She turned to him, wearing an oddly lethargic face. To be honest, her expression made her look sick – or disgusted. He continued:

"All hospitals keep records of whoever comes and leaves, and especially so upon seeing injuries such as my own," he reasoned. He had to prevent Shinra from finding him. They were most likely making all their subordinates watch the registers and whatnot of hospitals all over the world. And the number of Shinra's employees was not one to meddle with, nor was their level of expertise. They knew he had left with grave injuries, and therefore they would find him if he went to hospital. His appearance made it no easier – silver hair and eyes such as his own were sure to bring about unwanted attention. If he were not careful, even media might find him in the hospital and question him about his appearance.

"But why-"

"I have my reasons," he cut her off, giving her an impatient stare.

She wavered for a little, her sickly pale skin an odd contrast to the otherwise warm room as she gave him a faint frown. She sported black workout pants and a short-sleeved shirt, with a long white top underneath. All the garments were completely ordinary, save for the fact that her pants were still damp up to her knees because of her earlier struggles by the river. With blue eyes as pale as her skin, she studied him warily while her light brown and equally pale hair swayed to one side. Sephiroth frowned as he studied her. Though most of her hair reached past her shoulders, her straight forelocks were cut in a manner he assumed was called a 'bob' (this, he only knew because Scarlet had tortured him and several other Shinra higher-ups about possible new Shinra uniforms and styles to go with it – needless to say, he had left before she finished). The light color of her hair did not look particularly... healthy. It only added to her already unhealthy look. Described with one word, she was pale. She kept watching him, her arms hanging beside her limply, one holding her cellphone.

How to convince her? ...Surely, however vexing he found it, she most likely viewed him as mentally disturbed.

"Would you listen?" he inquired. Somehow, simply blurting 'I am General Sephiroth, who has recently escaped from Shinra, an organization working secretly to uncover the mysteries of magic' would not do.

"I'll listen," she replied and sat down in the black two-seat sofa situated at the end of the table. She eyed him (who was sitting in a three-seat sofa, by the way) warily, holding onto her cellphone.

"I can hardly say I am not a suspicious person." She looked at him, still wary. She was keeping her guard up.
"...Instead I will have you know that I am armed for a reason, I was wounded for a reason, and I escaped for a reason." He paused, and she said nothing, but glanced at his sword.

"Also, I am being followed. If I am found, it will have consequences for you and those who live with you in this house," he continued, his voice strict and hopefully convincing. He didn't know if this Paige lived with other humans, but she did have a bird – that parrot. John Smoth.

"Lastly, being a general, I know my physical state well enough to ensure you that I will be able to recover without medical help."

"...General?" she asked, sounding suspicious. "Do you have an ID?"

At that, he hesitated, but reached for one of his pockets and withdrew a card, whereon information about himself and Shinra stood written. He saw no reason to conceal it – he had no wishes to protect Shinra and the secrecy they so stubbornly tended. He reached out and she warily accepted, then read through it slowly. It was all written in English, although Shinra's base was in Russia.

Something about the card seemed to convince her. If he were mentally disturbed, he wouldn't have been able to fabricate a card which looked that real. She seemed to think likewise and handed back the card. Still, she seemed to be searching for a way to confirm that he was speaking the truth. Likewise he sought for a way to convince her to stay silent about his whereabouts. He could hardly kill her off without drawing attention to his current location. With his blood all over the towels and some of the floor, his DNA wouldn't be difficult to find. The DNA datas would be saved in files and directories, and Shinra would trace them and eventually find him. Or were they really that desperate to find him? ...In any case, he wouldn't take any chances.

And this seemed to be a quite remote area. An ideal place to recover.

"Shinra is not anywhere near here for the time being. I have come a long way." He deliberately left out the words 'materia' and 'magic', which were his means of transport. Also, saying he had travelled all the way from Russia was not something he needed to tell her at the time being.

"How... do I know you're not the bad guy?" she asked in suspicious voice, but not overly so. If he answered using the wrong words, she would no doubt call the police once she had the opportunity.

"Have you heard of Shinra at all?" he inquired, to which she shook her head and mumbled "Only what I read on your ID card".

"Exactly. The fact that they are concealing themselves means they are hiding something. For visual satisfaction I might add that the walls around their base reach higher and run deeper than your ordinary high-security prison or lab. It is being watched around the clock, twenty-four seven. Also – to add natural factors to human-made ones – the place is shrouded by sour weather and surrounded by snow and ice constantly."

Paige blinked once, and almost lethargically so. Really, the more he observed her, the paler she looked. She really did look ill. Or was she trying to vex him by looking bored?

How could that man look so healthy?

If all this blood was fake and what was really going on was one of those hidden-camera-things, she would skewer said cameras. Repeatedly. Then she would burn them. Not that it mattered – the man in front of her seemed genuine enough. She believed him when he said he was a general. After all, if she ignored the old-fashioned (though undoubtedly dangerously sharp sword), he did have some very impressive, pronounced muscles and a perfect stance that could rival that of a stuck-up meerkat.

But dangerous or not – the two of them could come to some kind of agreement. A truce of sorts.

"You can stay here for a while. I'll cook food and get medicines and stuff, and I won't reveal your identity or location to anyone. In return – just to be safe – I'll wrap your sword and hide it somewhere until you're well. And when you're ready to leave, I'll give it back without complaints or demands."

She must have said something unfavorable, because the elf-man-general's lips turned down for a moment and he looked at her with something that looked like murderous distaste. Being a general, he was probably not used to compromises such as these. But then he thought better of it. After all, if he wanted to hurt her, he didn't need his sword to to it – he could wring her neck several times and tie her spine into a knot if he wanted to.

So he agreed.

Masamune was still on the dark wooden table, waiting for the girl to come pick it up and hide it. Meanwhile, Sephiroth was free to guard it and watch over it. He could even use it if the need arose. His eyes flickered to the parrot - John Smoth, was it? For now, however, he left the weapon in peace and stayed silent. The young woman had seemingly forgotten all about it. She had even brought him hot water in a small tub. After placing the tub next to his sword she eyed him carefully, looking at his wounds as if to decide where to start off. In a way, she seemed reluctant to come any closer to him.

"I can tend to myself," he claimed. The statement was true enough. He did not wish for her to touch him and possibly aggravate his wounds with her inexperience.

She seemed oddly fine with this and simply flashed an empty expression before leaving again. That said, the kitchen was as far as she went - and the kitchen was in the same room as the living room.

Having her out of his way, Sephiroth gathered his concentration and let his good right hand rest on his left shoulder – on top of the towel-covered wound. There was undoubtedly a bullet in there that he needed to get out. And once he did, he would start bleeding again. His left hand still clutched his side, covering a stab-wound that was sure to be full of dirt and grime from the sword that had hit him. He had a few other cuts as well, but none were serious and all had stopped bleeding a fair while ago. All he had to do was to get out the bullet from his shoulder, then clean and bandage the wounds that were the most troublesome.

That said, he was aware that if he lost any more blood, he would certainly be out like a light before long.

Paige turned to check on him just as he thrust his hand into the injury in his shoulder. Groping for what she guessed was a bullet, he paid no heed to whatever it was she was doing. Finding it best not to watch, she turned away, rattled at the fact that he didn't even utter a sound of pain. Surely, just now he had scowled at the wound, but he hadn't cringed in pain or anything like that. If she added this perseverance to his muscles, it was pretty much safe to believe that he really was a general. If he wasn't, then at least he was an elf or some other supernatural being. Still, with his cold words up until now, there was no telling if he was kind or not. Perhaps the people working for this Shinra were actually good, while General Sephiroth – as she had read on his ID card – was the bad guy.

Or perhaps he was a good guy who was... just... strict.

Her summer vacation had been spiced up considerably already. Come to think of it, if she had ignored her urge to take a walk earlier that day, would this... Sephiroth have died?

Hearing something hit the floor with a 'clink', she looked over her shoulder to see the man tending to the now bullet-less wound. Though it was now bleeding again, he cleaned it quickly and thoroughly (and surely painfully, even though that didn't show on his currently calm face), then he quickly found some bandage.

At this, she found it appropriate to leave the room – since he would have to remove at least one arm from his leather coat to apply the bandage to his ribs. She didn't need to see any bare muscles.

Some time passed after that, though exactly how much, Paige didn't know for sure. She wandered about in the bushy garden, thinking of somewhere appropriate to hide that monstrous sword of Sephiroth's. Her family's little cabin was small, but it had two floors. The upper floor was a little smaller because of the roof, though, and the lowest floor was half hidden by the sloping ground on the outside. Still, the small house held numerous more or less hidden closets, one in each room behind the beds. There was also a storage room inside, and it was so full of old toys and things belonging to the previous owners of the cabin that the floor wasn't even visible. Even the walls couldn't be seen in there. Concerning the other building in their garden (the wooden outhouse with the old, outdoor toilet), it smelled of mud and damp, old wood and was more likely to fall apart before her father would ever get to turn it into a bathhouse or whatever it was he was planning. Besides, if she put Sephiroth's sword there, it would get rusty almost right away.

...But that aside, she already knew where to hide it.

So she left the old, rotting outhouse in favor of the small, wooden main house, and went back inside. To her slight surprise, Sephiroth was sitting with both feet on the floor. He looked like he was about to stand up.

"I got my eye on you," said John Smoth. The parrot was most likely at fault for Sephiroth's sudden wish to leave.

"Sorry about John Smoth. He has hip-hop-issues," she muttered, getting an overview. The sword was still on the dark-wood table, untouched, and the parrot's head was still attached to its shoulders, whereas Sephiroth's waist and shoulder were covered in bandages. He still wore the coat, only it was open now.

"Disrespect hip-hop an' I'll spit in you' face," screeched the macaw at her, rustling its feathers demonstratively. She ignored it. Speaking of which – maybe that was why her family had let her have the bird; because she was able to ignore it.

"...Say, I have a guest room that's pretty clean and nice," Paige offered, only paying attention to her elf-patient. If she built up enough courage, perhaps she'd start calling him that aloud... Mr. Elf-patient. Or something even simpler.

He looked up, his stare oddly dark and threatening.

Perhaps she should just keep her thoughts to herself.

He stayed in the guest room all day, sleeping more soundly than he had done for a long time. The bed was not nearly as large as his old one, nor as expensive, and seemed to be handmade. The bed, like the few other objects on the room, were made of wood. The floor, the small stool next to the bed (which he was sure served as a bed-table of sorts), the venetian blinds, the small, but tall closet and the writing desk beside it were all made of light, warm-looking walnut wood. The exceptions were the door, the walls, the ceiling (part of which was sloped), the bed sheets and the curtains, which were all a warm off-white. To be frank it looked like a furnished sauna, or to venture even further, a small cottage or doll house. Everything in there was either white or wooden brown. At least he could sleep in peace.

But for some unexplainable reason, he only became more tired the more he rested.

After blinking only once, he found that day had somehow turned into evening. And when he allowed himself some shut-eye again, the room was almost jet black when he opened them. And every time he woke up, without fail, he felt more tired. Yet, at the same time, his wounds remained the same without healing, nor turning worse. At times he would sense the distant presence of a person and feel air cool him as if the door was opened and then shut. But he paid no heed to it – the presence was not threatening, and it did not disturb him. Something eventually caught his attention in the ceiling – spotlights. There were four of them, and they were of no particular importance, so he came to the conclusion that they interested him because he had first believed the entire house was too old to hold such a thing as spotlights.

When he finally mustered the will and strength to rise from the bed and sit on the edge, the tiredness simply vanished. Instead, his movements roused pain from his injuries. Just as he was about to scowl at this development, he caught sight of the stool next to the bed.

On it was a lone object. It was a Rubik's Cube, with nine colorful squares on each side.

...Was he expected to play with this toy?

Feeling annoyance (and, to some degree, humiliation) stir in him, his lips curled down in a soundless snarl. He turned to take in the rest of the room for traces of other deliberately-left-behind objects. And surely enough, on the writing desk under the window was something else that had escaped him in his sleep:

A tray. On it was breakfast.

Paige sat on the kitchen island, lethargically and carelessly munching her breakfast while half-heartedly listening to the radio. Today, like any other day during summer, was an overly sunny and scorching day – perfect to stay inside, in other words. No more treasure hunting by rivers for her.

Her patient had been sleeping for quite a while, and had only stirred slightly when she left some food and a Rubik's Cube in there. She had left supper last night, but had removed it this morning when she saw he hadn't eaten any. So at the moment, John Smoth was happily eating away at Sephiroth's uneaten supper while listening to the radio. There was some hip-hip on – and she'd be damned by the bird if she turned off the radio in the middle of it – so she left it on while gazing out the window in a pensive manner.

From where she was perched on the kitchen island, she could see countless mountains, forests in all kinds of green shades, open glades and most importantly, the great river slowly running past the village, glittering mercilessly in the early sun. The water flow was so slow she couldn't even see it was actually a flowing river – it looked like a giant pond or small sea more than anything. The small settlement where she lived was pretty detached from the rest of the world, with the exception of the paved road going south – in between all the small farms. The small hamlet of people here did what they wanted to all the time, unconcerned with whatever the world was busy with at the time. Most people had a side job to ensure income, but that didn't stop them from keeping cattle, building cottages and renting them out to tourists and passers-by (who rarely wished to leave). People took pictures and sold them to nature enthusiasts, and spent time trying to lure the rest of their distant relatives to stay there forever. That aside, both the people and the environment in general were really friendly and warm – perhaps except during the icy winters – and the view was absolutely magnif-

'Clank' resonated the sound that interrupted her train of thought.

Looking up peevishly, but keeping her face straight, she saw Sephiroth stand before her. She instantly pulled up an arm to guard herself. His eyes were swimming about only a little, but other than that he seemed unnaturally healthy. In his grip on the surface of the kitchen island, he clutched the Rubik's Cube she had left in his room earlier. And he didn't look particularly pleased. In the background John Smoth said "I got my eye on you," but she couldn't tell if the parrot was talking to them or if he was rapping along with the hip-hip on the radio. Personally she felt that her personal space was being intruded. The tall, intimidating elf-man remained unfazed.

"Were you expecting I would let myself be coaxed into playing with a toy such as this?" he muttered, his voice remarkably monotonous. Paige pulled her half-full plate of food closer, still aware of their close proximity. They weren't really that close, but still much too close for her taste. Yes, she had carried him all the way to her home, but that was only because of his injuries.

"I didn't mean to insult you. I was just curious," she said quietly, completely unable to look back at him, so she looked at John Smoth. At least her face remained calm – just as she wanted it to.

"What about?" he demanded.

"Well, see, I've only managed to solve half of the Cube so far. And I was wondering if you're one of those who can solve it really easily." He just struck her as that kind of person. Shouldn't he take that as a compliment?

He eyed the object briefly, then turned to the radio by her side, which probably annoyed him with its hip-hop music.

"But, uh, now that you're here... How 'bout I show you around a little?" she suggested. Anything to get him to step away from her a little.

She showed the way to the entrance door first. There were three rooms on the first floor; one combined kitchen and living room, one small entrance hall, as well as a small office with an old computer. There were also stairs in the hallway that led up to the next floor. They ascended the stairs and Paine explained that there were two bedrooms and one bathroom. One of the rooms (the one he currently used) was for when her family visited, she mentioned. Though this was hardly of any interest to him, he couldn't help but wonder how an entire family managed to share one bedroom - or one bathroom, for that matter. He refrained from asking, though, and instead he inquired if her family would be visiting soon.

"My siblings will stay at our grandmother's place until school starts. Mum works at the hospital in the city, so it'll take even longer for her, while dad will most likely drop by next week. Or so he said some days ago, in the phone," she said thoughtfully, then seemed to remember something.

"And I haven't told any of them anything about you, but I'll come up with something."

Then, as if he were a tourist, she explained that if he ever tried opening the door leading to the storage room, he would drown in a river of toys, photo albums, old furniture, toys, ancient curtains, toys, Christmas decorations, toys, broken toys, beehives, cobwebs, dead mice and toys. To which he replied that he would never be foolish enough to do something so reckless. Though, considering that Masamune was gone from the living room table, it might mean that Paige had chosen to hide it in the storage room simply because he wouldn't go there.

...Just like Hojo had never expected him to wander about and read certain documents in the labs.

"Ah... This..." Paine managed weakly, sounding bothered as she took hold of the staircase railing.

Cocking his head and arching an eyebrow, he inspected her – her knuckles were turning white and her light hair and bobbed forelocks hid her face until she took a deep breath and regained herself. Looking quite displeased even behind her bored, though currently blushed face, she descended the stairs without a word and left him to do whatever he pleased. He was not particularly surprised. She didn't exactly look healthy. What with her colorless features – both her pale brown hair, skin and pallid blue eyes – it was easy to see she was ill. Judging from the unhealthy transparency of her skin, she most likely had anemia; lack of vitality and red blood cells. He let the thought roll about in his mind for a minute. Then he thought of how she had hauled him back here the day before, and became suspicious. Even after that, she hadn't exactly been exhausted... To which degree had he walked on his own? He couldn't recall.

But strictly speaking, shouldn't he be the one suffering from anemia, after his blood loss?

How embarrassing. Turning dizzy just like that. She could already hear her parents: Paige! We've discussed this – it is really important that you get iron supplementation! Eat iron-rich food! Your anemia can be weakened with- and then they would give her a long list of medicines and food that could work. Paige made a sour expression. But really – she already had a few medicines, and used them when she needed to. This time was an exception. Probably because of all the blood yesterday. After dragging the elf-patient back to her house and offering him first-aid equipment with bandages, hot water, bandages and whatnot, she'd had to wipe the blood off everywhere. And the black sofa still smelled rusty. Anyone would feel unwell after seeing that much blood in a day. How come Sephiroth was up and running this fast?

"Do you happen to have a news channel?" she heard, and glanced over her shoulder from the comfy two-seat sofa she occupied.

"Yeah," she replied in a breath, then reached for the remote and turned on the TV. It was a cheap, but small flat-screen with colors strong enough to burn off her eyes, but at least it wasn't as bad as the 12 inch wide, portable, black, plastic box-like TV she'd had before. Summer job salaries came in handy.

And when she found the news channel and put the remote down, she spotted the Rubik's Cube next to it on the table. Scowling with shock for only a split second, then forcing upon herself her usual languid mask, she took it and turned it around several times. Then she glanced at Sephiroth, whose bored expression told her nothing except the fact that the news were not interesting, and looked back at the Cube.

He had solved the entire thing.

One side was white, one blue, one yellow and so on. Half a minute ago the two of them were upstairs, and he'd held the thing in his clenched fist as if he wanted to break it. But back then it had been unsolved. Then she had gone downstairs. Not much later he had followed. It had taken him less than a minute to solve it. Sure thing, a few people could solve the puzzle even faster, but... Of one who had seemingly never tried it before – judging from his words earlier – it was downright weird to solve the cube puzzle that fast. On the other side of the dark wooden table, sitting on the sofa searching the news for who-knew-what, was a creepy mastermind. Just the word made her think of puzzles and numbers and glasses and professors and Einstein. And smart, gorgeous elves.

"...Strictly speaking, I had thought it would offer more of a challenge." He was definitely talking about the Rubik's cube.

If at all possible, his words felt like they were stomping her in the face. But she didn't let it show.

"Uh-huh? ...This happens to be the second easiest cube. There exists 2x2 Rubik's Cubes, 4x4 cubes, 5x5 cubes, all the way to 7x7," she offered. True enough. She had wanted one for her birthday, but since her parents knew she had no chance to solve such a thing (which would eventually depress her), they had skilfully skipped that wish and bought something else. That aside, she did own a 2x2 keyring Cube, which she had managed to solve easily enough. But admitting that would humiliate her.

He said nothing and kept watching the news, now with feigned interest.

Apart from a speech by the President of the United States of America, some activity of some sort in Russia, and the fact that the stock market was acting like a rabid raccoon in a roller coaster on crack, there was nothing special going on in the outside world.

R.R.

Who'd have thought I'd give you a story now?