Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy.

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… And yes, Cid did mix up Paige's papers...

A Little Magic

The walk to the doctor's office was unbearable. Struggling every step of the way through knee-deep snow and a gradually growing storm, Paige muttered half-hearted things to encourage herself, about everything from warm chocolate and tea to jokes and quotes John Smoth had picked up from hip-hop tracks. She didn't see a single person on the road – not even a lone car – and it gave her a notion that the village was completely deserted. If it weren't for the cosy (and frustratingly warm-looking) lights in the windows here and there, she would have sworn she was lost. Only a few minutes before she got to the doctor's office she remembered the Shinra fiends that were rumored to be roaming about. At that she increased her speed.

She only knocked once on the door before it opened. The doctor, who looked rather grumpy and angry, ushered her inside while cussing at the snow and mumbling about his airship.

To her wonder, they stopped in the waiting room.

"It's tidier here," he explained, gesturing at a chair. Paige sat down willingly, her nose and cheeks no doubt redder than they had ever been before. Doctor Cid pulled out a chair for himself and sat down with some papers in his hands.

"I'll cut to the chase," he said, the constant frown on his face deep. He looked serious. Something cold moved in her gut – something else than the physical cold of the storm outside.

"After you fell in the river some time ago, you came here and took some tests, among them some blood tests." He wasn't looking at her, but seemed to be reading. At the same time he lit himself a cigar, which Paige slowly arched a brow at. "Those weren't so good. Those weren't so good at all."

Paige wanted to swallow, but didn't. She felt that if she blinked, she'd miss something.

"... You have anemia, right? Does you take iron supplement medicine?"

"Uh, yes. But it doesn't work very well, because I drink so much milk," she admitted. If her cheeks weren't already red, she would have blushed. The milk she used to drink (and eat, often with cereals) kept the iron supplement medicine from working.

Cid looked at her incredulously, his cigar bobbing up and down a little. The smoke didn't reach Paige, but she could still smell it.

"... Well, miss Paige... Whether you drink milk or not doesn't really matter. What matters is that your anemia is one of the symptoms of something more serious," Cid said, then slowly took his cigar away from his mouth and handed her his two pieces of paper. Paige didn't know where to look or read, so after skimming through the tests she looked at him warily.

"What's wrong with me, then?" she asked, too quiet for her own liking.

This time, the doctor's frown weakened and he looked weary, like he despised what he had to say. He sighed deeply, sounding almost annoyed. She guessed he was trying hard not to swear and curse at it all.

"You have leukemia."

... Say what?

Leukemia?

As in...

... blood cancer?

Paige looked at him exressionlessly.

While doctor Cid searched her face for a reaction, she blanched and tried to swallow. Her shock lasted for a second, then she turned angry. Nobody in her family had blood cancer, not even other, less serious kinds of cancer – not that she knew of. It didn't make sense. Her mind worked hard to come up with something with which she could argument against the test results, but she could find nothing.

"It's a mature T-cell leukemia. It favors your blood, bones, liver, spleen... Overall, it's dangerous. Most people..." Cid paused, scratching the back of his head. His cigar was back between his teeth.

"Most people what?" she asked, her shoulders sagging.
But he said nothing.

"... Tell me how long I've got," she said, her voice monotonous and silent. Ten years? Or the oh-so-familiar, Hollywood rip-off six months? No, more importantly, could this kind of cancer be treated?

"Shinra," said John Smoth.

Sephiroth, who had been waching the news, turned to the bird, frowning suspiciously. The bird said the word again, whistling nervously afterwards. Perhaps he had memorized the word when he heard Paige ask him about it. Sephiroth turned back to the news – apparently Shinra was busy spreading another horde of fiends all over the planet. This time there was a lot more of them. Last time it had been a few thousand at most, and they had been spread all over the world. Now there were several times more. The vast majority of them were in America. Shinra had al least found out that much, then. Had Sephiroth missed a remnant? If so, then he had to keep moving like before, in the afternoons and during the weekends, to get the remaining remnants off track again. He didn't want to be traced.

"Shinra. Got my eye on ya," said John Smoth, and Sephiroth's mouth twitched in annoyance.

Just then, the sound of the snow storm outside strengthened for a moment as the entrance door opened and closed. The sound of Paige almost stumbling over her own shoes carried to Sephiroth's ears and took his attention away from the news. Before long, Paige came inside the combined living room and kitchen, her cheeks red and her eyes downcast. Her shoulders were hunched – she was no doubt still cold. Rubbing her hands, she shuffled to the kitchen area and made herself some instant chocolate. She drank it without paying any heed to them.

"Ahh," she sighed when she finished drinking it, then she left the room with a somewhat vague-looking wave of her hand, and a barely audible "Goodnight."

Nothing out of the ordinary.

...Except that it was only seven o'clock.

The following days Paige seemed more distant than usual. At school she didn't shy away from Solomon, but she didn't speak with him either – at all. She ignored him completely. In the P.E. classes it was different – her efforts seemed almost desperate, as if her life was on the line. Sephiroth didn't mind – it would do her grades well. When it came to karate, she went there more than willingly. Every time she came back home from training, she was completely worn out. Not even once did she look him in the eye, and more often than not she was staring off into thin air. When he caught her doing it, she quickly covered over it by giving him annoying comments, as if nothing was wrong. A few times, mostly when he had spent a day or two flying as far away as possible from her house (to throw Shinra's remnants off track), he found her sleeping in the living room. When she sat silently and watched the news with him, or after they had eaten, she sometimes nodded off and eventually fell asleep also.

Sephiroth, however, chose not to take action. It was none of his business.

… Until one Friday.

It had been snowing all night, but as the morning sun inched its way into the sky, the clouds dispersed and left the sky blue. Everything else seemed to shimmer – white and pure and mercilessly blinding. Paige came downstairs and started finding breakfast for herself. To say the least, she was abnormally slow. She seemed ill. Absently, Sephiroth watched as she leaned against the kitchen counter for support, with her other hand on her forehead. Her hands curled into fists and when she regained herself, she angrily tore open the refrigerator door and grabbed all the milk cartons she could hold. These, she opened with great force and poured them in the sink. Then she threw the empty cartons away, mashing them as deep into the litter bin as possible.

Perhaps her anemia was acting up.

"Wait..." she said, as if to herself. "What time is it?"
"...A quarter to eight," came his reply. She stared at him, as if waiting for him to correct himself.

"School starts at eight," she said breathlessly.

Sephiroth observed her with interest as she stormed out of the room to get on her shoes, jacket and her backpack. She did so in less than half a minute, while muttering things like: "My bike is no use... Too much snow... Can't run all the way there... Hitchhike? … No. I'll never make it. It's no use. Walking is too slow. Can I call somebody? Neighbours? … Impossible – too late..." She walked back and forth, trying to think clearly – which was obviously difficult for her at the moment.

"Would you enlighten me?" Sephiroth asked from his position in the sofa. Surely, being late for school one day could not have too significant consequences.

Paige's muttered words paused for a minute and her head appeared behind the door frame.

"I. Have. An. English. Exam. Today."

Sephiroth arched an eyebrow, amused.

"And I spent so much time preparing yesterday that I overslept. I have to be there in ten minutes." Her voice was even and quiet, but if one could kill somebody with the words ten minutes, Paige would be a serial killer by now.

"I see," he replied. Her eyebrow twitched a little.

"... You seem pretty unaffected and strong, all the time, Sephiroth. But this time, not even you have enough power to help me," she complained as her head disappeared from his view. "You can't stop time, after all. And you don't have a car." Her voice disappeared as she opened the entrance door and left. She hadn't talked that much for a long time. It was rather refreshing.

Once Paige was outside in the snow, which by the way reached over her knees and already melted around her ankles, she was honestly tempted to throw herself into the deep, blinding white snow and just stay there all day. What was the big deal? She had leukemia – blood cancer – and even if she decided to get treatment for it, she wouldn't live for long at all. Come to think of it, she might as well quit school and enjoy the rest of her life before her leukemia forced her to stay in bed. She wouldn't get to school in time, anyway. The only one who would notice she was gone was Solomon, probably, so it couldn't hurt to be a late... She'd explain to her parents and her siblings later. Not now, though. Not until after Christmas, or else there would be too much fuss.

"Do you want to get to school in time?" asked a manly voice behind her, and she stumbled around and backed away a little. Sephiroth was outside, too?

"Well, yes. But I'm not Superman," she said half-heartedly.

"Shall I offer you some help?"

His expression was completely and utterly unreadable. It made her unnerved.

"What? How can you help me? It's not good to give me false hope, especially not now." Paige thought of the school trip months ago, when she had thought Sephiroth was flying. Now that seemed ridiculous to even think about.

He gave a deep chuckle and smirked, and she went cold. With swift strides he walked closer to her, and she shuffled backwards in the deep snow to create some physical distance.

"Distance! Personal space!" she said, holding her arms out in front of her.

But before she knew it, he bent down and lunged forward, so his shoulder hit her stomach and knocked the air out of her. He held her in place and stood up slowly. Or so she thought, until she noticed it took longer than it should to stand up. She could only watch as the snow below seemed to fall away from her – she stared as her small house turned even smaller, until it was a spot on a snow white canvas. Gravity and pressing wind kept her in place over Sephiroth's shoulder. In a long moment of disbelief, she tried to push Sephiroth away, to wiggle out of his grip, but then she came to her senses (almost, at least).

Sephiroth was flying.

Paige was hanging over his shoulder.

They were hundreds of feet above ground.

Her life depended on whether or not she held onto Sephiroth.

And so, scared and shocked out of her mind, she waved her arms in the air, searching for something to hold on to. Soon enough she snaked one arm back around Sephiroth's neck and hoped he wouldn't get too angry about it. Then, to her terror, she started sliding down a little. Her fear intensified and she was completely overtaken by a will to survive, no matter what, so she held onto Sephiroth in all thinkable ways, eternally grateful that he couldn't see her face, and that she couldn't see his. After all, she was straddling him with all the dignity of a horrified rabbit.

Sephiroth was already starting to have second thoughts.

Flying was what he usually did to get to Paige's school and back, but indulging her in his ability might backfire. In fact it was already backfiring: Sephiroth had left the ground with Paige on his shoulder, but she was already holding onto him in all ways one human could hold onto another. It was thoroughly disturbing. Both her arms were around his neck and he felt her heart through his coat and her jacket. He heard her breathe fast, unable to even scream with fear. The worst thing, however, was that she was straddling him. And she was not straddling him in the most suitable place. To add to that, every time he tried to loosen her grip, she strengthened her hold around him. She was holding onto him the same way a person without swimming abilities might hold onto a life buoy.

It shouldn't faze him. He should be able to handle it.

Yet, with Paige of all people – who at all times shied away from physical touch and protected her personal space like it was her fortress...

… Perhaps, if she had been more clingy from the start, he would have been able to ignore her just fine. But she had kept her distance from the start. To suddenly have her all over him and all around him was disturbing. The more he though about it, the faster he flew, and the faster he flew, the tighter her grip became. He didn't need to hold her in place at all – she managed that much on her own – so he eventually let his hands rest on her backpack. It gave him an illusion that all was as usual.

"We're here," she heard him say as he landed behind one of the school buildings. Paige immediately let go and fell down into the snow, then scrambled to her feet and stepped back, her breath ragged as she stared at him.

Her mask of nonchalance and disinterest was no doubt long gone.

"I. Knew it," she stated, pointing at him. Her pale, light brown hair was all over the place, she was sure.

Then the school bell sounded, harsh and shrill.

"I knew you could fly," she managed, her voice uneven. At lack of words, she pointed at him some more, then turned and walked away unsteadily, casting glances over her shoulder until she couldn't see him anymore. In less than a minute she got to the classroom where she would be taking her English exam. If it weren't for what had just happened, her nerves would have been a problem. But now she was hardly nervous. If anything, she was furious (at herself, because she'd held onto Sephiroth so tightly) and shocked and terrified (at Sephiroth's ability to fly) but also endlessly determined to do well at the exam, since this was most likely the last time she had an English exam. And so, with the determination of a rabid pit bull protecting its territory against an army of mailmen, she got down to business.

Sephiroth glanced in through the classroom window before he returned to Paige's house. She was working with the same sort of desperateness he had witnessed in the P.E. lessons – as if this were the last thing she would do in her life.

Slightly suspicious, he remembered how long she had been acting like this. Surely, it had started after her visit to the doctor? Was something not right?

When Paige returned home and walked into the living room, she looked murderous. She kept her face calm as always, yes, but her eyes were positively evil.

"Takin' chances. Word tap dancing with wolves," said John Smoth.
"Quiet," demanded Paige.

"Disrespect hip-hop, and I'll spit in ya' face," he retorted, and she turned and looked him in the eye for some long seconds. "My name's shutup, what's yours?" he squawked.

Slowly, Paige turned back to Sephiroth.

"You were flying earlier today," she started. She ignored John Smoth as he said "I'm hot 'cause I'm fly, you ain't 'cause you not".
Sephiroth said nothing at first.
"In other words, you lied to me when you said you couldn't fly, after the school trip when I fell in the river. I saw you fly, but you denied it."

"Indeed I did. Have you the common sense to know why?" said Sephiroth.
"To avoid troublesome questions, no doubt," she said, barely audible, her eyes narrowing. Sephiroth didn't like how she looked at him – it annoyed him thoroughly that she dared stand up to him like that.

"I am hardly the only one keeping secrets. What did the doctor tell you that was so important that you decided not to tell me, or even your family? ...Enlighten me," he retorted.

Her expression faltered completely – so much that Sephiroth checked in his mind just what he had said. For a moment he thought she wouldn't speak, and that she would leave the room without looking back. But she stood still before him, seeming almost to wilt even as he watched her.

Then she gathered herself.

"The doctor said I've got leukemia. And that I'll be dead before next school term's over," she declared, without emotion.

… There was no trace of lies in her eyes.

For a split, fleeting second, he found himself imagining how things might be if – or when – she died: This house would be completely empty. She would never shuffle downstairs in the morning to eat breakfast and go to school, and she would never make them meals or ask him questions about Shinra which he would refuse to answer in detail. That John Smoth would no doubt be taken back to the rest of her family, who might not return here because they wouldn't be able to cope with the memory of her death. At her school, he knew of at least one person who would be utterly broken at the news. Not only Solomon – this place was but a tiny village, at most a collection of small hamlets spread by the foot of the mountains – but the people who lived there would no doubt know who Paige was, and they would mourn her.

As one second passed, he pushed away those thoughts only to be overcome by a strange coldness. He found that he was no longer bothered or annoyed by the tone in her voice, as he had been only a minute before.

"Dead, you say," he muttered. He wasn't looking at her.

There came no reply.

Perhaps she regretted telling him.

"… Before I forget to tell you, I'm planning to spend Christmas with my family. You're free to join." Her voice was quiet and even. Downcast.

"No. I will not join," he retorted. His decision was already final.

"Very well... I'll leave you here with John Smoth then, if that's okay."

And with that final whisper of a sentence, their conversation came to an end. Paige slipped into the shell and the mask that were her only means of protection, then left the room without a sound.

… Leukemia.

Even if he did not speak the word aloud, it disgusted him – it made his throat tighten and turned the air in his lungs heavy.

Less than a week after that, a few days before Christmas, Paige was ready to go to her family. Sephiroth arrived just about when she left the house, as he had spent some time taking care of Shinra's fiends – and even a remnant, this time. He landed outside, in front of Paige in the snow, which shimmered faintly in the light from the windows. She was dressed in her black, thick duvet jacket, boots and gray jeans, and as he landed, she looked up, startled.

"... Been hunting?" she asked, slightly annoyed, trying to regaining her composure.

"Indeed I have," he replied, observing her closely as she looked down, her annoyance already gone.
"But how?" she asked. "How can you do that without your sword?"

Ah.

His Masamune. He hadn't seen it since summer. Every time he fought fiends and monsters of Shinra's, he thought of it. Every time news came up that might be related to Shinra, he wished he was holding the sword, so that he might cleave those who dared come for him. But he had to hand it to Paige – she had hidden it well. He still remembered the reason she had done so: She would let him stay until he was healed, but in return she would hide his sword. After all, if she was the only person who knew of its whereabouts, he couldn't kill her.

Musing about the whereabouts of his Masamune, he looked her in the eye. From where he stood she appeared sad, almost depressed.

… She hadn't done anything that had brought him too much trouble yet.

Why would she do so now? She'd had plenty of time.

It couldn't hurt to anser her question.

"Like this," he said, holding one hand up beside him. She watched, bewildered.

His hand slowly started glowing green as the materia in it woke to life. It was a Fire materia, as Paige soon discovered as a small flame appeared over his open, gloved hand. She stared in disbelief, then awe, as Sephiroth let the flickering plume grow. He found that he quite liked her reaction, and so he increased the magical force so that the fire grew even more – until it was almost half his size.

"Whoa," uttered Paige, holding a hand in front of her face as a shield against the heat. Sephiroth let the flame die as while watching it, then glanced at Paige, who was still looking at his open hand.

Smirking, and asking himself why he hadn't tried something like this before to get entertaining faces out of her, he continued with another spell: Bio, a poisonous spell. As green sludge and large, green bubbles erupted from his hand, Paige looked thoroughly disgusted – yet she absolutely couldn't look away. As soon as the spell stopped, Sephiroth's hand was clean, and he attempted a Lightning spell. The flash took Paige by surprise and she nearly jumped back, this time looking him in the face.

"Careful! That's-"

Ignoring her, he quickly exchanged his current materias with others, and Paige's face turned dangerously blank for a moment as she watched the small, glass-like orbs – materias – dive into his palm.

"Two more," he said, and raised his hand, then motioned towards the ground with it. Several massive, sharp blocks of ice erupted from the ground. In sync with the movements of Sephiroth's hand, the blocks grew until they towered above him, but then he stopped moving and let his arm rest at his side. After a few long seconds, the ice shattered. Paige didn't budge – but although her mouth was still shut, her eyes were bulging as she watched the spot where the ice had been. Then Sephiroth reached out and pointed at her, which immediately caught her attention.

"Erh, Se-Sephiroth?" she asked, alarmed. He gave a lopsided smirk.

"No need to worry," he said, then he let a wave of emerald green energy surge from his arm and through the air towards Paige. She hunched her shoulders and held up both her arms for protection like before – her eyes shut tight – and the spell hit her. It pulsed through her in a second, glimmering and twinkling, and then it was over. A few seconds passed before Paige opened her eyes and moved her limbs rather carefully, as if to check if they were intact.

The spell he had used was Cure.

"If... If that was meant to calm me down, you did a bad job," she said through gritted teeth, looking away. He chuckled quietly at that comment.

But she was smiling.

For some time they stood still, neither of them taking it upon themselves to break the silence. Sephiroth only moved when he heard the sound of an engine get closer – no doubt Paige's father or mother was here to pick her up. Sephiroth glanced down the snowy road, then looked back at Paige before he slowly walked past her.

"Merry Christmas," sounded the last words she spoke to him before her father's old, sturdy jeep drowned anything else she might have wanted to say.

Once he was inside, three things caught his notice.

One of them was John Smoth, of course, who said "Shinra!" as soon as he saw Sephiroth.
The second was two wrapped gifts on the table – one flat, the other square and rather large.
A white, folded piece of paper was the third thing he saw. Warily he seized and unfolded it.

The flat gift is for John Smoth.

That was all. Somewhat bothered by the shortness of the note, he picked up the flat package and opened it for the parrot, although it wasn't Christmas yet. Paige would never know. "Hn," he chuckled as the gift wrapping revealed a hip-hop CD. He wouldn't put it on now – the bird could wait for Christmas. He placed the CD on the dark wooden table and picked up the other, larger gift. He couldn't tell what it was. Slowly he removed the wrapping, waiting with wonder to see whatever it was she had decided to give him.

It was s simple cardboard box, with no marks that gave away its contents. Sephiroth opened the top.

When he saw what was inside, he couldn't contain a grin.

Rubik's cubes. On top were a 3x3x3 cube and a 4x4x4 cube – the ones he had solved before. Beneath them lay four others: a tiny 2x2x2 cube, a 5x5x5, a 6x6x6 and a 7x7x7 cube. He had his work cut out for him. But below all the cubes lay another piece of paper with something scribbled on it. Sephiroth sat down on the sofa and read it.

Hi, Sephiroth. I'll keep this short: You remember your sword, right? Believe it or not, it has been under the table ever since I got my hands on a wall mount for swords. It's not rusty, so please forgive me for not finding a better place. Have a nice Christmas.

Narrowing his eyes, Sephiroth patiently placed the note on the table and bent down slowly, tilting his head up to check under the table. There, attached to the table with a rather cheap wall mount (which was no doubt intended to hang on a wall and not under a table), was his Masamune. It had been that close all the time.

R.R.

Harr, harr, harr. (I laugh when I'm nervous)