The halls were quiet when he made his way out of his room, his hair damp and hanging limp down his back, along his shoulders. His footsteps echoed along the halls, turned to quiet taps as he made his way into the closest courtyard and stood in the sun for a moment, tilting his head up to the sun. The light was warm on his face and chest, the breeze
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His eyes lowered, going straight to his hair. "Been keeping well?" he asked. he meant many things.
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Pulling his hands from his pockets Karasu advanced on Kurama.
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"Don't you have any hobbies that aren't being a pain in the ass?"
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He raised a hand and flexed his fingers a little, sure that Kurama could not merely be standing there and waiting for him to attack when he knew of his abilities. Energy pooled in his palm, turned into a bomb, though invisible to the naked eye.
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Unsurprisingly the wards didn't explode when he tested them, but that was easily solved. He set little explosions at each of the joints in Kurama's hand instead, watching calmly.
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"It's special because I'm still alive to hate you," he growled. He was already hurting from Apos (a fit of stubbornness had kept him from going to Kusuriyuri nd patching the wound up himself, with mixed results) this was not improving his mood.
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"It only proves my point, Kurama. You killed me, and I only love you more for it. No one else will ever share what we do, despite how many others you may have killed."
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Unable to resist after being unable to be this close to Kurama for so long, he slid his hands into Kurama's hair and yanked him closer, burying his face in Kurama's neck and breathing in. He could smell that medicine peddler, most of all, and roses, and that other scent annoyed him.
His touch tingled and the tongue that slid over his jaw seemed hotter than normal, almost acidic.
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"Never," he growled, pinning Karasu down. "Never will you get what you really want out of me." Tongue or hands, he wondered, an idle pool of calm thought in his mind. A blade had grown into his hands without him remembering of thinking about it. Which do I cut off first.
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Slowly the ends of his sable hair, splayed out across the grass, turned blond and crept upwards, the lighter colour spreading.
And yet, even through the pain, he began to laugh. He reached up to fist his hands in what hair of Kurama's he could reach. Karasu pulled him down, using the pained spasms of his muscles to help him buck up into Kurama, then to throw him off, destabilise him.
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The knife got him several times, and his blood swelled at soaked into the darkness of his jacket, the material of Kurama's clothing. Roaring, eyes flying wide, Karasu's hair turned completely blond and there was a sensation not unlike the air vanishing from within a vacuum and Karasu made the immediate area around him explode. The lawn, where his hands clutched at Kurama, pushed him off and away in hopes to keep his face from being ruined.
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