WMD

A more lighthearted look at the possible relationship between Sephiroth and his sword (compared to, say, 'Masamune').

OR

The reason why the god-like Sephiroth lost again to a certain blond chocobo head.

Outside the world, there was a void. In the void, there was a man. Or so it seemed. The long silver braid made his gender a little suspect. He was sitting cross-legged on the emptiness, eyes shut, barely breathing. Meditating. The past two years had been a not unwelcome respite from his work.

It was common opinion that he was as undiscerning and bloodthirsty as his lord was. That was in no way true. He was made to be honourable, fine and straight, and at first, his master had been too. Alright, perhaps not as honourable or fine or straight, but that was humanity for you. Close to seven years ago, his 'dear' lord turned him into a butcher's knife. It was a horrible blow to his pride.

He wrinkled his nose at the memory, an oddly endearing move for one who appeared so aloof and untouchable. While he did not appreciate being used as a common kitchen utensil, it was always his duty to serve his lord. Which was why he felt a touch of guilt at being so happy about his lord's defeat roughly two years ago.

A sound made him open his eyes. Odd. It sounded like something… wailing? Before he realised what was going on, a pair of arms had locked his neck in a death grip.

"Masa, Masa, Masa! He's throwing me away!" wailed the creature currently choking the life out of him. Alright, so he was exaggerating. There was no way he would die from something like asphyxiation, but it was certainly uncomfortable.

Was this karma coming round to bite him in the ass for not being completely loyal to his lord?

If it was, the punishment was completely disproportionate to the crime.

"Krmph!" He was hoping to say, 'get off', but it was a little hard to talk when your windpipes were getting crushed.

"What?"

The death grip (thankfully) loosened, allowing him to pry his attacker off him. "Buster?"

The boyish figure pouted up at him with large, wet eyes, unkempt black hair falling all over his face. "Masa! Cloud is throwing me away," whined the boy.

"About time?" The comment earned him a slap from the deceptively strong boy.

"Masamune, the master I've been faithfully serving for the past 3 years has just left me embedded in the ground in the middle of nowhere. Sympathy, please?!"

Rubbing his cheek, which was beginning to turn red, the silver-haired man frowned at the boy. "You know I don't believe in all this 'new masters' thing, right?" he asked, unconsciously pouting a little.

The boy blew him a raspberry. "Are you going to rot here for the rest of eternity then?" he demanded.

Masamune shrugged nonchalantly. "My lord is still alive."

"In three pieces," said the boy scornfully. "And one of his freaking fragments just kicked me over?!" The last part came out as a scream of outrage. "Cloud, where are you?! Are you watching this?! How could you let them mistreat me like that?!"

The hint of a smile tugged at Masamune's lips. Too bad it caught Buster's attention.

"And you, you horrible, stuck up, arrogant, holier-than-thou prick who killed my Zackiekins…"

"Technically, I wasn't responsible for his…"

"It may please you to note that each of your horrible, egotistic, self-centred, holier-than-thou, I-want-to-be-God 'lord's' fragments has gained a new weapon that is decidedly NOT you," spat the boy venomously.

There was silence in the void where weapons resided. It was then filled with a scream of pure, unadulterated horror.

"WHAT?!"

-

It was good to feel his Masamune back in his hands as he smirked up at the horrified chocobo-head. However, something was just… off. No matter how he shifted his grip, the sword felt a tad uncomfortable in his hands. He dismissed this as lack of practice. After all, it wasn't like anyone could actually tamper with Masamune.

The second thing he noticed was how the blade seemed a little duller than he remembered. It took more effort than he'd expected (i.e. 0 effort) to pierce Cloud's shoulder. This fact was confirmed when the blond just grabbed the blade like it was a hunk of metal and yanked it out of his body.

But Masamune was always keen!

As he delivered his final taunting lines, wondering if he could actually deliver on the threats, he thought he heard an oddly familiar voice speak.

"Serves you right for replacing me, bastard."

XD

I hope you enjoyed this little piece of random nonsense. I may or may not decide to turn this into a series, depending on the response I get from this (hint,hint), so if you liked it… you know what to do

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