Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, nor do I own the world in which this story is written. Obviously.

Sorry for deh late.

Handful

"You're back. Where've you been?" Paige asked, her voice a little more serious than she liked.

"...Taking care of Shinra. That is all." Shinra? She'd have to remember that, so that she didn't go around thinking about Chinba and Shenba and Shinri and other possible names. But what was she supposed to say about that? His answer produced a hundred new questions in her mind. How had he taken care of Shinra, and where? Who were they, exactly? Had he called them, hurt them or threatened them? Was Shinra in Canada?

"Care to elaborate?" she asked, staring him down (or up, since in all truth she would never be taller than him).

"No."

A long silence ensued and lasted just long enough for Paige to realize she was so confused she was dizzy. Or maybe it was her anemia.

"My sword?" requested Sephiroth, his voice suddenly stronger, more intent.

His sword. Oh.

How could she have forgotten? His sword was the only thing that mattered to him.

"Can't you, er, don't you know where it is?" What she'd originally planned to ask was: Can't you use some supernatural magic of elfishness to make your sword appear before you? Good thing she came to her senses before she said that, though, since if she hadn't, she would probably be elf food right about now. In any case, she felt reluctant to tell him where the huge, sharp, unnaturally long weapon was, because for the very first time ever, she had a tiny upper hand. She knew where the sword was and he did not.

Her feeling of superiority lasted for two seconds before it was blasted into tiny pieces by one of Sephiroth's darkest, most threatening glares so far. It was enough to make Paige step back, sit down and avert her gaze. The sofa was suddenly really interesting.

"I'll tell you. But, I..." Paige hesitated. Sephiroth had stayed there for only a few weeks, but after buying all that extra food and all those bandages and whatnot, didn't she have a tiny, small, teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy, miniscule little right to ask for something in return?

"What?" he demanded, impatient. Not as impatient as she had feared, though.

"I'll tell you where your sword is if you'll let your clothes dry first and eat some food. If I'm going to release a strong, dangerous guy with a weapon, I might as well do it thoroughly. I don't want to be remembered as the girl who was an annoyingly lousy host."

Wow. Word volcano? Bracing herself, Paige looked up while keeping her face straight.

Sephiroth's face was utterly unreadable. Thank goodness.

… Perhaps she could take that as a yes.

After they'd both had some supper, Sephiroth sat down on his usual spot in the living room. There he kept himself busy with the news, which he watched with remarkable amusement that almost scared both Paige and John Smoth to death. Sephiroth was almost smiling, his smirk growing mercilessly each time the flying man in London was mentioned. Paige was beginning to find it suspicious. Both Sephiroth and the flying man were having trouble with their superiors, and they had the same build and height. Then again, a lot of other muscular men with work problems existed in this world.

"You know him?" she asked, thinking Sephiroth would say no right away.

But he didn't say a thing.

"...You know him, don't you," she tried again.

He didn't answer. In the end she grew tired and went to bed, not bothering to wait for Sephiroth to finish watching news. If he knew the London man, or if Sephiroth and the London man both knew Shinra, it was none of her business – she'd be boiled, fried and cooked by Sephiroth's burning eyes if she asked more than she already had.

That said, if he wanted his sword, he'd have to wait for tomorrow.

The next day was by far the most trying in her entire life.

Paige was awoken by the sun and was almost scared to death, thinking she had overslept. The minute she got out of bed she was given a second shock as her alarm clock sounded. Then she realized she hadn't prepared clothes the day before, and to her disbelief, all the clothes in her closet had somehow turned outdated and unwearable overnight. In the end she chose black jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt, despite the warmth. If the heat became unbearable, she had a black wife-beater tank top underneath. She found that the colors she chose very much described her mood.

In the kitchen she was reminded of the lack of milk and other edible foods. There were only apples left, and water.

To add to that, her ancient, rusty bike was covered in spider webs.

Once she finally got on the road, things went out of control. On the way to school she met three ominous creatures. One, a black cat that ran over the road; two, another, fatter black cat that jogged over the road; three: the super crowded, open-windowed, alarmingly full, overloaded Bus of Doom. And her rusty bike was rustier than she'd anticipated. By the time she finally got to her school, it was squeaking like a dying brontosaur. If that wasn't enough, she was sweating.

Sephiroth went downstairs right after Paige left.

One of the first things he noticed was a small note in the kitchen, which said there was no food left and that Paige was planning to buy some on her way home from school, if she survived. If she survived? Surely school couldn't be that dangerous. Under that note lay another, smaller slip of paper. If I get home, I'll show you where your sword is. That's a promise. I might die today, though, several times. You have no idea how people at my school are. Nothing can describe them. I hope you won't mind waiting, the second note said. What was this? If she got home? She might die?

Sephiroth was starting to get curious. Her school and its students sounded interesting.

Since there was no food, and since Sephiroth had had his fair share of news the day before (and also since he did not intend to stay put and listen to John Smoth's squawked rapping), why not go pay Paige's school a visit?

My school, Paige thought.

It was positioned on an idyllic-looking peninsula wedged between a mountain and the broad Columbia river. It was at the very end of the road, so those who wished to leave or enter had only one route to choose, unless they owned a boat or knew how to swim in currents. Other than the river and the road, Paige knew of no way to escape except the air, but she had no such thing as a helicopter. There were four buildings: One for each of the three classes, as well as one main building. The main building contained the teachers' offices, but also had a cafeteria, wardrobes, an information desk and different gym facilities. Around the premises were green, freshly cut lawns with flower beds, a fountain, parking lots and large trees that provided shelter from the scorching sun.

The place would have been amazing if it hadn't been for all the people. There weren't few, but not too many either – about three hundred people in all. More than enough for Paige.

It took all her willpower not to dive into the bushes and hide behind trees, cars and trash bins on her way to the main building.

"Paige!" an enthusiastic, dangerously familiar voice called behind her. Every cell in her body froze, her eyes almost popped out, her knees almost buckled under her with fear, and her mind screamed run.

And she did run.

She raced through the crowd and moved between students and teachers and freshmen and kept running until she thought she was, to some degree, safe. Even then, she continued walking quickly until she was in the gym hall – where all the students and teachers were supposed to meet to get information about the next school year. It was a dreadfully boring thing, for most people. Once there, Paige slunk suspiciously to an empty seat and sat down, wishing furiously that she had worn a cap to hide her face. She was trembling. At least her face was as dead as it could possibly become.

The next few minutes passed at a snail's pace.

All was well.

That is, until the school bell rang and somebody sat down next to her. Paige turned to see who the broad-shouldered man was, and almost choked on her tongue, lungs, throat and everything else that was between her mouth and her belly.

Solomon.

The school prince.

Her death sentence.

Paige leaned away slowly, her eyes wide with terror – it was silly, really, because he was no physical threat to her. She was sure he would rather die than physically hurt her. Slowly, as if in slow motion, he turned to her. She registered with dread that his shoulders were broader than before the summer holidays, and that he looked frighteningly more grown-up since the last time she'd seen him. His hair was still the same – a very light blonde shade, his thick locks wavy. His eyes were still blue enough to put the sky to shame.

"Paige," he greeted, smiling softly with such genuine happiness that Paige didn't know what to do.

"Why're you sitting here," she demanded in a whisper. She sounded... constipated. Solomon just smiled.

It was only day one, but she was already doomed to eternal misery at the hands of the School Prince and the School Princess. Paige was going to die now. Solomon belonged to the School Princess, after all, and that person would not tolerate anything else.

After the longest one and a half hour of her life, the students were told to follow their teachers to their new homeroom. Paige was gone from her chair before Solomon could speak the first letter in her name. Once they got to their homeroom, she made sure the seats were full all around her so that Solomon could not sit down next to her. To her horror and disbelief, though, he magically appeared next to her anyway, probably having bribed somebody to give him their seat. She couldn't pay attention in class at all. She knew with utter certainty that Solomon occasionally glanced at her – his gaze was so piercing and warm that she could physically sense it when his eyes were on her. When that happened, she looked away.

In every break, she used all her skills and did all that was in her power to avoid the blond man. What happened then was that he started asking around for her, and word spread that he was searching for her. She heard some girls muttering she didn't deserve having one such as Solomon interested in her if she was just running away. Frankly, she agreed. He was good-looking, abnormally kind and polite, always had a joke in store, he was strong and safe. And he was rich. Against him, karate wouldn't work, because he already knew it. No matter what she said, he always twisted her words around or sent her a look of hurt that was so strong none of his fan girls would ever forgive her for what she had done to him. In short, she couldn't physically hurt him, or insult him, or make him (in a polite way) realize he had to stop following her.

At lunch, she gladly ate her food in the girls' bathroom. She needed energy if she wanted to survive running all the way from the main building to where her stone age bike was parked. Thank goodness the first school days were short.

When she got home, half dead, the last thing she expected to see was a smiling Sephiroth.

The sight confused her so much she escaped to her room, took a shower and changed into fresh clothes. When she opened the bathroom door – finally beginning to calm down – she was caught by surprise yet again by Sephiroth, who was blocking her path this time.

"Ah, your sword, I know... I'll find it now," she said, and moved closer.

He didn't move away.

"Is something wrong?" she asked and stepped back a little, daring to glance at his face.

And there, she found only wonder. Wonder. No hostility. Mild amusement, perhaps, but nothing more.

A vivid image of Solomon appeared in her mind and she automatically retreated back into the bathroom, slammed the door shut and locked it. There, she stayed – clutching the door handle with one hand and her heart with another – until she heard him leave. Feeling ashamed, she slowly opened the door again and walked downstairs only to find Sephiroth gone. John Smoth said nothing when she asked where he was, so she decided to go buy some food. They sorely needed it. Maybe then she would finally calm down.

When she returned, Sephiroth was still not there – not in the guest room, either.

Taking a deep breath, she slumped down on the sofa and tried to relax completely. In her chest, her heart felt heavy, in a way bruised. Was it stress? Fear? She couldn't tell.

Sephiroth walked into the house quietly, having finished his errand somewhat later than he'd hoped. He had been at Paige's school.

Inside he half expected to see an overly stressed Paige.

Earlier that day, he had followed her to school out of curiosity. Anything was more interesting than staying in her small house. Since she had described her school and the people there with such strong fear and dislike, he had found himself compelled to find out what could distress her so. Therefore he followed her, half hoping to see extraordinary things. The second he saw the students and teachers swarming about, he was reminded of Shinra. In comparison, however, Paige's school seemed harmless. Sephiroth could see most of what happened at a distance. The many large windows made it all the more easier.

Then, after a while, he had spotted the person who must be Solomon. Before that, he had strongly doubted the things Paige had said about the blond man. However, what she claimed appeared to be no less than the truth. Solomon had eyes for nobody else but her, and as a result a startling number of girls sent hostile looks in Paige's direction. Her usual expression had slowly dissolved into one of agony as the day wore on. Solomon seemed to Sephiroth as the sort of person who was polite to everyone – he showed a sort of innate kindness towards everybody who came and talked to him. Solomon himself, however, did not approach anybody else than Paige, who in turn made a great effort to avoid him. And there was a third person involved as well – a woman who seemed to be in charge of quite a few other girls. Whereas Solomon was the boy who got the most attention from the girls, the other woman caught the eye of most of the boys. Yet, despite everything the young woman tried, Solomon only treated her like he treated any other. He only had eyes for Paige.

Sephiroth wondered why.

The whole school was full of intrigues, gangs, unrequited love and numerous other dilemmas typical for school life. It was a wonder the teachers managed to get some of the students to listen at all.
He should very much like to teach them some discipline – their lack of obedience irked him. For a moment he wondered how they would cope if they tried the Soldier training program.

Sephiroth stopped as he entered the living room.

Paige lay splayed on the two-seat sofa, asleep.

Considering the situation for a moment, he decided against doing anything and went to his room. What he had to announce could wait for tomorrow.

The next day Paige went to school prepared.

This time, she would not escape. She would not run. Today she would only ignore Solomon – and whoever else deigned it necessary to threaten her. Paige's determination was largely fuelled by a breakfast consisting almost of milk only, as well as the knowledge that since today was only the second day of school, there would only be two double-classes. Two English lectures after one another, and two Physical Education sessions. She would survive. To be more effective, she was already wearing running shoes, black workout pants and a Yellow T-shirt of Confidence.

She lingered a little before she left, though, because she figured she should show Sephiroth his sword. But when she knocked on his door and opened it, he wasn't there.

Oh, well. School it was, then.

Solomon nearly killed her in the English lectures. The instant the teacher told them to read in pairs, Solomon rose and quickly swung his chair over to her desk and gracefully placed his book next to hers and smiled questioningly, all before any of the other students had moved a finger. Gathering all her guts and courage and willpower, Paige survived only by reading aloud mechanically. By the time the class was finished and Solomon returned to his desk, all her energy was depleted and she sprawled her arms over her desk and let her head rest on top. This, she soon learned, was a huge, enormous, disastrous mistake. Solomon mistook her weariness for sickness and bent down next to her, softly uttering words so caring and worried that Paige almost fainted for real. He even offered to take her to the school doctor. Instead of replying, she gathered the isty-bitsy, tiny little piece of energy she had left and rose to her feet, then strode out of their homeroom.

How was she supposed to survive two consecutive P.E. lessons after this?

Remembering how P.E. was before summer break, Paige shuddered. Usually she spent every minute of it trying to outrun the much too companionable Solomon, and then the rest of the class desperately tried to keep up. Most of the girls usually gave up within half a minute, though, and sat down and watched. No P.E. teacher had ever managed to get things right with the slackers. Speaking of classes: If she could, Paige would have loved nothing more than to switch from her class to another, to avoid Solomon. But she had already tried that – and he always followed her.

Feeling gloomy, she opened the door to the gym hall and stole inside, slinking along the wall behind the others. They were all busy chatting, or gossiping, Paige thought. She found their voices a bit more hushed than usual. Solomon was there, but he hadn't seen her yet.

Good.

"Line up by the wall," a man demanded, and the voice was so full of authority that Paige almost threw herself to the floor to protect herself against its force.

She knew that voice.

She knew that man.

Unable to help herself, she stood on her toes and peeked over the heads of the others in her class. And sure enough, there he was, the silver-haired man whose elf-like beauty and pronounced muscles caught even the eyes of the boys. The boys looked at him with mixed feelings – some with awe, others with suspicion and dislike. The girls were just as divided. Some stared with admiration and others muttered things about his distasteful hair style. Unexpectedly, when Paige heard them talk badly about his hair, she felt really irked.

Sephiroth was wearing white running shoes, black workout pants, a white t-shirt and a black zip-up jacket. Around his neck hung a whistle, and in one of his hands was a list on which he'd write who were absent and who were present.

"Line up!" he repeated, louder this time, and all the students scrambled to the wall, Paige included. She was so disturbed and surprised she didn't even notice Solomon stood next to her – she simply stared incredulously at Sephiroth, a bazillion questions racing like a thunderstorm in her head. Or was that adrenaline? No? Confusion? Dizziness? Did she, perhaps, subconsciously expect Sephiroth to help her handle Solomon's presence? She was happy?

But why was Sephiroth here? Why was he a teacher? How did he talk the principal into hiring him?

Sephiroth met her eyes and smirked. Caught off guard, she blushed furiously and almost frowned. Instead her mouth fixed into a straight line. Had she looked to her side, she could have caught a glimpse of a slightly uneasy Solomon.

Within two minutes that was all forgotten, though. Sephiroth made them jog back and forth across the gym hall, demanding them to increase their speed each time. Then they were to do sit-ups until he told them to stop - first normal sit-ups, then sideways, then with their legs above the floor, and so on. In the beginning they did all right, but as time wore on they looked more and more pitiful. A few students claimed to have old knee injuries and such, and asked to be excused from class, but Sephiroth mercilessly told them to show him proof given to them by their doctors. Paige suspected he could tell who lied and who didn't. Then he told them (to her frustration) to do push-ups: as many as they could manage. Solomon beat them all, though Paige was pretty sure that if Sephiroth had tried, things would have ended differently. After the push-ups he made them line up again, and made three-man teams. To her indescribable relief, he didn't put her and Solomon on the same team. To her shock, though, he told them they were to do a relay race. One team member at a time was to run across the gym hall, do ten push-ups, ten sit-ups, twenty squats (each followed by a jump), then run back across the room and touch the shoulder of the next team member, who was to do the same thing.

And after that, Paige was sure that her class was breathing hard enough to make a sailboat move forward.

"That is it for the warm-up. Have something to drink," Sephiroth declared, and everybody paled. Paige sat down on the floor, blinking to make the blurriness in front of her go away.

The rest of the time, Sephiroth made them do so many different relay races and drills that when he told them to shake their legs and arms and stretch their muscles, some students laughed with joy. Paige wouldn't be surprised if 95 percent of the class would be missing the next time they had Sephiroth as a P.E. teacher. Personally she was reduced to a mass of sweating human tissue. That day, a lot of students had problems getting up the stairs leading from the changing rooms. Paige was unable to use her bike home, fearing she'd fall off, so she walked along the road, leaning onto the rusty thing for support. She had a hunch her muscles would be in great pain the day thereafter.

What was Sephiroth doing? Was he just entertaining himself? Maybe this was her punishment for not showing him where his sword was. It was likely. Then again, if he really intended to punish her, and if he knew who Solomon was, he could have put her and Solomon on the same team. Yet he hadn't.

R.R.

Hope you liek!