(Sephiroth is taken post FFVII:ACC. His appearance in Kingdom Hearts I class as having happened just after DoC. His insanity is therefore at a mostly manageable level where he won’t attack everyone just for breathing. It also provides a reason for his appearing at Hogwarts without freaking. <3 Additionally I’m going with the theory that Sephiroth
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Rarely, though, there came a time when the location was a huge burden. Especially when, suddenly, all the magic went out. The lights flickered, his magical record player stopped working, and worst of all, the spell to keep certain plants growing in captivity went out, causing the instant wither of a few very important experiments he'd had in the works for months. This caused a small cactus that not only produced fabulous hallucinogens but also cured specific poisons to wither up and die like his libido whenever Karasu was in a fifty foot radius.
Irritated, and almost close to enraged, he took the dead plant from its bed, and stalked to the sorting room, intent on chucking the still relatively sharp plant at the head of whatever idiot cast a magic null spell in the middle of such important work.
By all rights he should have hesitated when he saw Sephiroth, maybe thought twice about confronting a man with a sword as tall as he was, but Kurama was Kurama and he was also in a notoriously bad mood. The cactus sailed at a silver haired head with the accuracy of a professional baseball player. Damn the consequences.
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He stepped backwards and calmly slashed at the air with his sword, watched the plant sail past him and land in little chunks. Not a cactaur?
He turned and glared at the boy who could have only been the source of the flying flora, pupils thin and cat-like. "Who are you?" The boy smelt like a different kind of magic, and that intrigued him a little. Older, more archaic and graceful all at once.
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"Who the hell do you think you are?" He demanded, arms folded, guarded but ready to dodge and fight if he needed to. Bravado aside, that sword looked sharp, and after Karasu's violent reawakening, he didn't need any more scars.
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The insults didn't faze him. He'd grown up in the army after all.
"Well," he said, gesturing with his free hand vaguely. "If we play by your rules, I am the one who just sliced up your experiment."
He was tempted to set it on fire now.
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It was a low hit, he knew. He could smell immortality on the man, or at least an insane strength of will, like perfume on a whore. If Kurama were any less powerful, goading Sephiroth on would be a suicidal risk. His own ego didn't allow for backing down, though, not even for 'humans' who smelled as close to gods as one could get.
He surreptitiously ran his hands through his hair, choosing a few particularly helpful seeds in the process. Only someone who knew him would know the gesture. To anyone else it was just a motion of pure, vain arrogance. That was why he liked it so much.
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"Fire." The cactus behind him spontaneously combusted.
He raised his sword, watching the boy's body language carefully. He was either a fool or someone who knew how to handle himself if he wasn't backing down.
"Indeed, I have no concern for biology whatsoever." Biology had given him Mother. Nothing less, nothing more.
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"Science is important," Kurama chastised, his hands on his hips this time. "Though I wouldn't expect some delinquent to understand."
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"Oh?" he asked, tilted his head a little and taking a step forward. "He says science is important, Mother." Who he was talking at wasn't quite clear, though he sounded amused. "Science did nothing for us. Science imprisoned mother for centuries and robbed her of her true glory."
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"Is it my fault that the scientists in your world didn't have the wherewithal to throw away their trash when they were done?" He challenged, centering and readying his youki to fight. Sure, fighting over a few lost plants was stupid, but he was in a mood.
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He'd have to switch direction midair, depending on how Sephiroth defended himself, which would be difficult but doable. And in the back of his mind, the traitorous animal part squealed 'Fun!'
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Sephiroth fell down on one knee to avoid the whip, changed his grip on Masamune and brought her up. She could slice through tons of concrete like butter, and yet he wondered at the consistency of these plants. He left nothing to chance.
He moved, quickly, first chance he got. Forward, towards the boy, with a flurry of quick slices on his part. Distractions for the moment he steadied himself and ran his blade through the air so fast and so hard it was like matter split in two. Sephiroth did so love Octaslash to test opponents.
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That final thrust, however, made Kurama seriously rethink his tactics again. he skidded as far back and away from Sephiroth's range as possible, landing in a wary crouch with his back to the icy, sharp wall. Belatedly, he realized his hand... no, the slice went all the way up to the elbow, so his arm was bleeding.
"Not bad," he murmured, though whether it was complimenting Sephiroth for the force or himself for dodging was anyone's guess. He tried not to think of the Stern Look Kusuriyuri would give him for getting in fights with new kids again.
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"I must congratulate you, few avoid lost limbs on the first encounter." He tilted his head a little. The boy's blood smelt different, perhaps that was what he'd meant when he'd called Sephiroth a 'mortal'. Still, his words were mostly kind in nature, if antagonistic. He walked to the beat of his own drum, and that drum played erratically and without much pattern or sense these days.
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"Congratulations returned," he said, deciding that it would be allowable to waste a little youki on healing. The edges of the cut knit back together, leaving only a pale scar and a liberal smear of blood. "Most don't cut me so easily." He really had to give credit where it was due, and his irritation had faded long before the first blow. Now it was just two competent fighters and banter.
Something, deeper than the amused animal part of his mind and more insistent, bit at his brain. Whatever Sephrioth had done had negated all of the magic in a specific area. All of it including, in theory, the no-kill spell.
What he wouldn't give to have something like that at his disposal.
"What was that thing you did, silencing the magic?" He asked casually, lifting an eyebrow at his opponent. "It's a rather impressive trick."
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He watched the cut heal with fascination. Just like him, he thought, to heal so quick. How curious. And so he reasoned that he deserved an answer, previous insults shrugged off like old feathers. "Precisely that. The spell is called Silence. It prevents magical attacks by way of negating all magic. Stored in materia, like the summon I offered as a bribe."
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