mallow_logs | [OPEN] Especially to any of the YYH crew, or anybody who'd like to lose some valuables.

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Especially to any of the YYH crew, or anybody who'd like to lose some valuables.

WHO: AU!Kurama (

yuukaihan), any of the YYH cast members who want confusing OU/AU shenanigans, and anyone else who'd like to join in!
WHAT: Kurama's making the rounds of the districts, stealing from citizens and getting the lay of the land.
WHERE: He'll avoid Orlea and Crystalden for the most part, because he's a little weirded out by anything too modern, but feel free to run into him in Lochwell, Mallow Hallow, Whitewood, or Highcrest.
WHEN: 5/24

He goes on yet another exploratory tour of the districts, adding more details to the mental map in his head, as he's been doing since he arrived. The mark of a good thief is knowing all of the roads through a city or town - not to mention all of the alleyways, the rooftops, and the shortcuts. You never know when you'll need to make a quick escape.

He keeps his hood pulled up over his bright red hair, for the most part, although it's more from habit than anything else, nowadays. Back home, his hair tended to make him more noticeable, as it was not a very common color - but here, he's seen people with every color of hair imaginable (and some even more bizarre) and made friends with someone with hair just as vibrant as his own, so it hardly seems likely that anyone will remember him for any particular reason. Still, there's an odd sort of comfort in having his cloak tugged up around his ears, so he leaves the hood where it is, although he's less concerned that it fully cover him, so that some of his red hair works itself free and lays visible around his face.

There hardly seems any point to his thieving anymore (and in fact, he's been considering taking up another pastime, but what else does he really know how to do?), since money is of no object here, and most of what he and his sister steal simply piles up in their cottage, but old habits die hard, so he still finds himself occasionally slipping long fingers into pockets as he passes people by, relieving them of their valuables.

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For the thief's female protegé, days of thievery had elapsed into days of boredom, which in turn evolved into a sort of game. Sometimes, she would nick something just to see how long its owner took to notice. And sometimes, like today, she'll see how long it takes her brother to notice that she's tailing him.

She's several people behind him, dressed in plain clothes—no hooded cloak over the simple linen dress she'd donned—and her hair, dull brown gradually fading back to spun gold, streaming behind her as she walks. She's got her eyes trained on him as he walks through the crowd, smiling as she watches him dip his fingers in the occasional pocket. She'll have to bother him to show her what he's got later on

'Not long', is the answer. He gets that familiar sensation of being watched fairly quickly, that telltale tingling that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end, but he's also learned enough to know the difference between a malicious kind of watching and otherwise. This one feels more curious than anything else, so he's in little hurry to find out just who it is that's tailing him.

Instead, he tugs his hood down around his shoulders, a subtle sign to whoever is watching that he isn't intimidated in the slightest. Still, he does hold off on the pickpocketing for now - just in case. Wouldn't want to get caught at it by his tail.

He meanders easily through the streets, his sharp gaze taking in his surroundings, mapping out easy routes should he decide to pull off some larger heist sometime in the future, and keeps one eye out for a convenient place to lose his tracker.

She smiles to herself, a small, sharp thing, at the sight of him letting his hood down. She knows all too well what that means: he's noticed. Not that it's her, obviously, or he would have made it known, but he knows that someone is following her.

She allows her pace to lag that much more, letting him get a ways ahead of her, allowing him to think that she's getting lazy, or perhaps even bored of pursuing him.

It's a waste of her time, perhaps, but she can't help it, when Kurama is so interesting. His every move is intentional; not a twitch of his muscle is wasted. She can only aspire to be that well-trained one day.]

The feeling fades slightly, and Kurama frowns, fighting the urge to turn and figure out why. Has his tail decided that he isn't so interesting after all? Had he aroused suspicion, but now alleviated it by doing nothing out of the ordinary? Or is this simply some ploy to get him to relax his guard, to maneuver him into making some kind of mistake?

With no way to find out, and unwilling to go much longer without knowing, he turns his attention back towards his surroundings, searching more earnestly for somewhere to get away. He's careful not to let the tension show in the lines of his body, however - to anyone else, he's still strolling, gazing absently around, enjoying the sun on his face. Behind his placid mask, however, his mind works furiously, considering and then dismissing every possible escape route that catches his eye.

Her smile turns into something a little more wry; she can see what he's doing up ahead, looking for a good way out. He's taught her enough that she knows what to look for, what those minute changes in body language mean. But she also knows that if she continues to tail him, it's likely he'll take flight and she'll lose him. And, well, she wouldn't mind having a stroll with him. It's not often they're together during the day anymore, and nowadays they can more than afford not to be constantly on the job.

Casually, quickening her pace just enough to catch up with him, she appears at his shoulder, tapping gently.

With as much attention as he's paying to his surroundings, he catches the sound of her footsteps quickly as she approaches, so the tap to his shoulder isn't unexpected. He turns to look at her, smiling mildly, and takes the opportunity to sweep his gaze behind him, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

When he finds nothing, and then realizes that the feeling of being watched has disappeared, he turns back to her, one eyebrow raised, and gives her a look that says very clearly, 'I should have known'.

She returns his smile, and it's a bit cheeky; his look is returned with one of his own: Of course you should. She's honestly surprised he didn't figure it out sooner, but can't decide whether or not it's a credit to her tailing abilities. Emmanuelle slips an arm through her brother's, falling into step with him as best she can given the difference in their length of leg.

"Boredom," she says simply, a response to an unasked question. "Nothing of interest to be had, so I thought I'd find myself something that did interest me."

Almost automatically, he slows his steps to make it easier for her to keep up, a concession he would never dreamed of making for anyone in the months before meeting her.

At her words, the corners of his lips quirk upwards, and he casts her a quick, fond glance. But, he thinks, she makes a rather important point. There's little for them to do here, and it seems the boredom may soon drive them stir-crazy.

"I've been thinking," he says cautiously, "that it may be time to find something else...interesting to do."

She catches that fond look, files it away for later, when she's curled up in bed and she can allow herself to enjoy such little luxuries. When they're alone, there's no shortage of such attention to be had, but out here in the world at large, that's when she knows it's genuine.

Her eyes brighten considerably when he proposes they find an alternative to their pointless thieving, and it takes all her self-control not to grin widely at him. The arm not hooked through his comes to rest over her hand curled around his arm, her own small show of affection.

"I am listening."

He frowns slightly, taken by surprise by how quickly she turns to him for an idea - mostly because he doesn't have one. That feeling of aimlessness, of lacking a clear goal, is frustrating to him.

"Unfortunately," he says, and the frustration is clear in his voice, "I'm at rather a loss for what that 'something else' might be. I am hard-pressed to think of any other marketable skills I possess - my upbringing hardly allowed time for anything resembling a 'proper' education."

It's never really been something that irked him before - for what his old life entailed, his skills were more than adequate, and he had never been concerned that he would lack some knowledge necessary to complete a job or task. Now, though - now it seems he is the one disadvantaged, and that is a very uncomfortable feeling.

She purses her lips; she had assumed that Kurama already had something in mind. But really, it's no matter; they're both clever. They'll find something. His talk of proper education causes a rather sly look to come across her face.

"Luckily for you, I am rather an asset in that matter." Raised in a castle, as a royal, one had many things to learn, and though many were useless, many were not. Perhaps they could use her education to their advantage. Combined with his cleverness, the two of them could do anything, really, if they set their minds to it.

Kuwabara happened to venture out in the outskirts of specific districts.He was now in Orlea taking the air and somewhat pissed still at Yusuke. Yusuke got him in trouble when the two of them got into an argument that destroyed a huge chunk of property. He got dragged into the moment and did not realize that he got in trouble with Yusuke instead of stopping him. He took a breath as he passed by the stranger in the hood and did not notice his face yet

He was too engrossed in his thoughts to realize yet but he had nothing valuable, just his cat that hung with him most of the time. He was avoiding Yusuke at the moment as well.

He tries not to let his mouth twist too much in response to that, because - yes, that is exactly what's bothering him at the moment. Suddenly, he feels the class divide between them sharper and more prominently than ever, and it is a very discomforting feeling.

It has never seemed to matter much - beyond their first, rather unorthodox meeting, at least - but now the differences in their upbringings are brought into sharp relief, and Kurama can't help but feel curiously...small beside Emmanuelle, though in stature she barely clears his shoulder.

He tends to stay away from Orlea, because the whole "magic" thing is entirely too foreign to him - the fairies he understands well enough, but mix the magic with objects he couldn't even fathom in his wildest dreams (he is from an era more like Highcrest, after all), and Kurama feels distinctly out of his element. He skirts along the border though, on his way to other places, and that's where he spots the redhead.

It's more curiosity than anything else that makes Kurama's gaze linger - he hasn't seen many people with hair like his, either back home or here (he thinks fondly of Reno and spares a moment to wonder why he hasn't heard from the other man for a while), so the color is enough to make Kuwabara a point of innocent curiosity for a moment before Kurama moves on.

He half turns as they pass, glancing around the hood of his cloak, and sizes up the other redhead - no telltale jingling, no hints in his body language that he's trying to conceal something valuable. And with a build like that, he's more than likely to put up a fight should Kurama's hand slip - is that a cat?

So distracted is he by the a) unexpected appearance of a small, furry face, and b) the very odd contrast between this hulking man and the tiny animal that Kurama actually stumbles directly into someone unintentionally, and staggers backwards muttering apologies without even a bit of extra coin to show for his trouble.

Emmanuelle raises an eyebrow at his silence, not quite understanding his reaction, or lack thereof. Her fingers tighten around his arm where they rest, and she goes on.

"I found a book in Orlea, when I chanced to venture there. It's about men who use their cleverness to steal without their targets realizing they're being stolen from. Con-men, they're called. Perhaps you and I might do something similar."

She speaks casually; she's noticed that a hushed voice draws more attention than an easy manner.

He frowns a little - both at the mention of Orlea (which he tends to avoid, although not so stringently as Crystalden - honestly, some of the things there seem too fantastic to even be real), and because he doesn't really grasp the intricacies of what she's describing.

"I'm not sure I see how that's different from what we already do - and won't it still leave us with the problem of collecting the things we steal and having nothing to do with them?"

She purses her lips. "It was different. More of a...routine, I suppose, than what we do. It involved a lot more thought. Creativity." She makes a small, meditative humming noise.

"But I suppose you're right." A beat. "Maybe we should start giving things away." It's mostly a joke, considering the two of them hoard stolen trinkets like magpies, but really, what else is there to do with it all? There's so much finery she could never wear, nor would she particularly care to—perhaps someone else would appreciate it more.

Kuwabara got used to all the strange things that happened here, since he was no stranger to the supernatural and these places only further reminded him of how he missed his own home. He didn't really notice the other person that was looking at him, but he did turn around when he her something behind. It wasn't anything coherent but it seemed like the person he passed had accidentally stumbled into another person.

He wondered what that guy was doing, and giving a brief look before his cat mewed as if wanting his attention. Seriously, he was getting a strange vibe from that hooded guy and he couldn't see his face clearly. The only thing he could barely make out was the faint show of the other person's red hair. He wondered what that guy was doing, but at the same time it was better not to ask questions since he was seriously getting a weird vibe from him.

Ever since Kurama and Hiei disappeared, he'd been on edge a lot. He knew that they had not choice but to leave because places like this took people away without a second thought.

"Mm," he says noncommittally, because her explanation really hasn't cleared anything up. At her next suggestion, he scoffs a soft laugh.

"Can't think of anything better to do with them," he admits, though unwillingly. "I'm loathe to give up something for nothing, though." It's not as though any of the things they've stolen have required a great deal of effort, but it's more the principle of the thing.

As Kurama stumbles backwards, the man he's bumped into reaches out and grabs him by the front of his cloak, jerking him back upright. The motion jostles Kurama's hood from his head, and as the man draws him abruptly nearer, he catches a strong whiff of alcohol and thinks exasperatedly: Oh, of course. It isn't enough that he's managed to misstep, but he's managed to do it straight into an angry drunk.

The man slurs something unintelligible - but certainly threatening in tone - into Kurama's face on foul breath, and Kurama rolls his eyes and lets his hand slip towards the dagger at his waist.

"You'll unhand me, if you know what's good for you," he says softly, as his fingers brush against the hilt of his blade, and under his fringe of red hair, his green eyes are cold and hard.

She falls silent, thinking now, considering this. Even with an excellent education and upbringing, it's difficult to think of something that doesn't involve making money some way or another. She frowns.

"This place is impossible." That seems to be the consensus amongst newcomers; there's nothing to do, no reason to really do anything. "We may as well lock ourselves in the cottage and never come out."

He can't quite resist - he's never one to let an opportunity for suggestion slide, and this whole conversation has not been particularly comfortable for him - he glances sideways at her, lifting one slender eyebrow.

"May as well," he agrees, and the tone of his voice is unmistakable. "There's plenty there to keep ourselves occupied."

She knows immediately that her suggestion had been the right one; this is clearly far more comfortable territory for the both of them. Emmanuelle lets a grin ghost across her mouth.

"Oh, do tell." Those green eyes have taken on a certain light that is likely very familiar to Kurama.

Kuwbara kind of stared at what was happening since he didn't even expect that strange hooded guy to bump into someone. He stopped walking and was prepared to do something if someone got a little too physical. He was a brawler but it had to be a for a good reason. Accidentally bumping into people wasn't a reason for the other party to try to hurt the other person.

Kuwabara opened his mouth to actually say something but too late, he was watching this scene unfold before him and the face of the person shocked him the most. He was about to shout out the name but it caught in his throat. Hiei told him before that there were two Kuramas. One of which was familiar with them and another who had no recollection of them and other things in between.

He decided whatever happened afterwards he would deal with but it was better to stop this dangerous situation, "Oi, he's drunk, so let 'em be. He's gonna pass out soon anyway."

He spoke walking up to the two of them.

He grins right back at her, the very same light in his own green eyes as he lets his gaze travel slowly along the length of her body. The lingering glance mostly starts out for show, but by the time his eyes reach her face again, the heat behind them is real enough - and the only answer he thinks he needs to give.

She'll be the death of him, someday, he thinks.

He doesn't know whether it's his own muttered threat, or the approach of the other redhead - who's quite a bit larger than the drunkard, and clearly on Kurama's side (or, near enough to count, anyway) - but the man holding Kurama lets his gaze dart between them for a moment before making a soft, disgusted sound and dropping Kurama roughly back to the ground. He mutters something angry under his breath, but turns and walks away without a backwards glance.

With a short scoff of his own, Kurama slips his blade back into the sheath at his waist, straightens his cloak, and then turns to look at the man who helped him. There's absolutely no recognition in his eyes, of course, and if Kuwabara was expecting gratitude, he's going to be sorely disappointed.

"I had the situation under control," Kurama says, and he tugs briefly on the dagger his hand is still resting on to demonstrate. "Your help was unnecessary."

Emmanuelle doesn't squirm under his gaze, more than used to his attentions by now, and when he's finished, she takes his hand and sets off in the direction of their little cottage, feeling more purposeful than she has in months.

"Let's go home."

Kuwabara watches as the guy makes disgruntled noises before leaving the red head alone. Kuwabara held his calm but it was because he was informed previously about the look alike. Clearly, when he looks back at the red head, he can see that the other guy doesn't recognize him at all.

This wasn't the person he knew. Hell, he could be but he's not the version he knew. Kuwabara gives him a look for that comment and shrugged, "It was better gettin' 'im off your case then letting ya kill him for being stupid. He probably can't even remember where he lived right now."

He finished as the cat meowed on his shoulder.

His gaze flicks to the cat again, and it's no less surprising the second time around, really, that such a physically imposing young man should be carrying the thing - although none of that surprise registers on his face. Instead, his lips twist slightly in displeasure, and he only barely resists rolling his eyes - a trait he thinks he may have picked up from his sister recently.

"I'm hardly fool enough to kill a man on the street in broad daylight, let alone with someone to witness the deed," he says coldly, and this sentence alone should be enough to make clear to Kuwabara just how different this Kurama is from the one he knows - if only on the basis of how they speak.

"Men like that are hardly worth the trouble anyway - get one good blow in, and they turn tail and run."

He had a big heart for a big guy and it involved a lot of cute cats. It was strange and out there, but he was one of those special tough guys that are soft hearted saps in contrast to their tall and bulky appearance. He tried to shush his cat while the other guy was being a bit well, annoyed at him.

"I'm just saying. Jeez, I ain't asking for a thanks or anything, but do you haveta be such a prick about it?"

Not that he wasn't used to those kinds of actions. It was rather typical and hell Hiei was right when he told him that the other Kurama was nothing like the one they knew.

"Guess, since he high tailed outta here just as fast as he came," he shrugged, "Anyway, you alright?"

"Fine."

But even as he answers, giving his jerkin and cloak a few tugs to straighten them, his eyes narrow suspiciously. Undue concern from strangers is not familiar to him - especially not given his upbringing and his choice of profession. And the "pity" card has ever been his sister's specialty - there are far more people who will believe a pretty, trembling young woman than a young man, even one who looks like Kurama.

"Why bother at all?" he asks suddenly, genuinely curious. He suspects its something stupid, like a hero complex - this one looks just the type to have one - but might as well satisfy his own curiosity. "What business was it of yours what occurred?"

Kuwabara suddenly felt awkward since he was used to speaking to Kurama rather casually. IT didn't help that this one resembled the one he knew very well. He'd just have to keep trying with the formalities to the best of his abilities.

"Hey, 'm just doing what's right. Sure you can take care of yourself, but if that guy seriously had other tricks up his sleeves, it might've gotten dangerous," he replied seriously. Not really a hero complex. Kuwabara didn't like seeing people be harassed or pick on by others. He wasn't a bully even if he fought all the damn time.

'What's right'. Kurama scoffs again, and this time he can't hold back the way his eyes roll. Not a hero complex then, not quite - but close enough to count. Some sort of ridiculous moral compass, no doubt - he doubts this one has ever done so much as pocket something from a shop, let alone gone out looking for trouble.

Not that Kurama does that intentionally - sometimes, it just seems to find him.

"Whatever 'tricks' that man might have had up his sleeve, I doubt he could have surprised me. It's been a long time since I've been surprised by anything."

Except kindness, his mind whispers at him, because isn't that the problem here? His pride is wounded, certainly, at his misstep and the idea that someone could think he needed rescuing. But the larger part of it is that he's simply confused. Who is this fellow, and why does he give half a whit what happens to Kurama? No one ever has - not unless he has something they want.

But that's a little too personal to share with a stranger, and hardly something a seasoned thief has any business feeling, anyway, so he shoves the thought aside.

Whatever seemed right to Kuwabara anyway. He doesn't see things as black and white as a lot of people do. There was always those fancy gray areas that he has to realize. Stealing isn't his forte and he will buy that stuff if someone ever tells him to shoplift a store. On top of that he does look for trouble but for the right reasons, though irrationally approaching Yusuke just to get beaten up most of the time isn't really smart but that's pretty much the only trouble he's really looked out for.

He may have gotten into fights and other things but it's not all that bad. He has a big heart and it's usually being used a lot.

"Gee, you sound like you're ages old or somethin.'"

Kuwabara mutters the lat part, but doesn't really add anymore to that. Kuwabara doesn't care where someone comes from or where they will be going. He's doing what's right to him and if it meant he has to prove it to this guy, then he has no qualms about that. He will do it. That is the kind of person Kuwabara is.

"Look, does it always have to be a reason for people to help each other out?"

He muses after a moment.

'Ages old'. He supposes it's true enough. Though physically, he can't be more than his early twenties, that is perhaps something he shares with the Kurama from Kuwabara's world - both much older inside than out. A life on the streets will do that to you, Kurama's found - you grow up fast when the only other option is to just give up and let life roll over you.

"I've found that it usually is," he answers. "Everything comes for a price, and no one's ever really looking out for you."

Except, whispers his traitorous mind again, if that's true, then why did he help Emmanuelle, when first they met? The promise of a reward for returning her? Perhaps at first, until he discovered that she did not want to be returned. But then why keep her around at all? What is he getting out of the deal? A partner? Some partner she'd proved at first - there was a long period of teaching before she was capable of contributing to their survival. Her natural instincts were good, though - perhaps he'd only seen that and thought to turn it to his own use.

What difference does it make, either way? What's done is done, and Kurama's fairly certain he's better off for the decision - in the end, that's what really matters. Isn't it?

He shakes his head. What use are these thoughts? Perhaps it's past time he headed back towards the cottage - or, even better, to find a nice shady corner of some bar where no one will bother him for a spell.

"The point is," he says decidedly, "that though your help was both unwanted and unnecessary, in my books, it puts me in your debt. And I do not like leaving debts unsettled." He gives Kuwabara a quick up-and-down glance, sizing him up. "Come the day you decide what the price of your assistance was, tell the barkeeps in Highcrest that you've a job for Kurama. They'll pass the message along."

Kuwabara doesn't know that's the truth. He knows that his friend Kurama is pretty old, but otherwise he doesn't really know if this specific Kurama is anyone that old or even if his name is Kurama either. He just looks like Kurama. Kuwabara tries to remind himself that this isn't his friend but someone else, though the attitude and the coldness reminds him a bit of Youko Kurama, Kurama's other counterpart, he supposed.

"Did you hit your head on a rock or somethin?' Not all of the world works that way. Just because some people are like that don't mean that everyone is. I just did what my instincts told me. I don't expect anything in return," he replies. This is frustrating. This guy must have some trust issues or something like Hiei. Hell he sounds like that half pint midget too. Now that's kind of weird. Kuwabara waits for the guy to respond since he's caught up in his thoughts right now.

Kuwabara listens again when he starts, "Do you treat everyone who does anything like that like crap? Jeez. Look ... I don't know what your name is an' all but you've got it all wrong if you think I'm gonna do somethin' like that just because you said so," this is aggravating him. He really doesn't want to start an argument with someone he doesn't know, and they usually don't end well in his favour. He doesn't pick fights with people unless they're legitimate, and this one is starting to get close.

"...So yer name's Kurama too..." he mutters the last part but looks at him, "I told you, you don't need to return any stupid debt!"

"Just keep it in...mind," he says, and though the phrase starts out frustrated - really, how can anyone hold onto such ideals anymore? - it trails off as what the boy mutters finally registers.

"'Too'?" he echoes, and there's a sudden and disquieting feeling of foreboding growing in his chest. "You know another with the same name?"

He doesn't know what to make of that. An imposter of some kind? Someone using his name to gain some kind of advantage? But how is that possible? True, he's been here for some time, but he'd thought he was keeping a fairly low profile - giving his name to only those who confer him some benefit. And he's hardly run afoul of the law yet - why should anyone know him?

It wouldn't be the first time it had happened, someone using the name of a notorious thief. But here? He'd hardly expected it - at least, not so soon.

"Sure man," he repliees. Honestly, Kuwabara's not sure what is weirder, having someone in debt of him or the fact that he looks exactly like Kurama with his name and everything and sporting a personality that he can never imagine his friend being capable of. Maybe when Kurama's going Youko on them but still.

"Yeah,sort of. I heard it was a long story. He's my friend and he acts nothin' like you but looks exactly like ya or rather you look like him I guess." He replied trying to explain this to him, "but it's not like it's the first time I've seen weird shit like this. I don't doubt that you guys are two different people all together," he addes after a momentary pause.

There was no real imposter to be honest. He knows that MallowHallow is a strange place. That's all.

He replied looking the other way.

Kurama, on the other hand, has no experience with the kind of strange occurrences that happen in places like Mallow Hallow, and none of this is doing much to convince him that this isn't just another run-of-the-mill instance of someone using his name to their advantage.

His eyes narrow dangerously. "I look like him?" he breathes, his tone deeply offended. "I hardly think that should be the case, since I am the only Kurama I know of, and certainly the real one. How do you not find it suspicious to meet two people who look similar and share the same name? It is hardly a common one."

Or so he thinks since he's not aware but Kuwabara can't blame a guy for that since it's not his fault he's not used to this. Kuwabara was way too used to it that it's just another fleeting problem.

"Believe it or not Kurama-sana, but I ain't pullin' your leg. Kurama's not here right now for me ta show it but he's got the same appearance as you, red hair, green eyes, and delicate looking guy. He's pretty wicked though despite his girly looks."

Oops, not intentionally saying you look like one Kurama, "Well, ya know, after being through so much shit in the last year or so, I've learned to jus' accept things as they are."

His eyes narrow further - both at the idea that he and this imposter do not only look similar but identical (is such a thing even possible?) and the rather clumsy slight on his looks. That's one he's heard before (and even played to his advantage, on several occasions), but it somehow stings more than usual at the moment.

"You cannot honestly expect me to 'just accept' a thing like this," he says, but it's becoming rather clear that is exactly what is expected of him. And honestly? He may be starting to question his certainty - after all, this place has fairies, magic, and things the likes of which Kurama could have never dreamed. Is it so unlikely that a thing like this could also be here?

He shakes his head with a sigh. "I begin to grow tired of this place," he mutters. "A place that can create a perfect copy of someone is not a place to be trusted."

It's possible if it's weird worlds and you've world hopped for a long time. Kuwabara just happens to be that poor unfortunate soul with his best friend to be hopping worlds. It's hard to not notice. He shakes his head.

"I'm not telling ya to believe me, but it's true even if you thinking I'm shitting ya. Jeez, I'd probably be freaked too if I met a guy that looked exactly like me. So It's not really something that you can accept but I'm sure you'll at least get. It's not about who's real or not since I'm pretty damn sure you both are."

He replied ruffling his hair out of frustration. "Well it ain't sunshines and rainbows here so I don't expect anyone to really."

None of this is helping, really. 'Don't believe me', the boy says, but also, 'It's true'. He doesn't have to accept it, but he does have to 'get it' - whatever that means. Kurama thinks it amounts to about the same thing.

The end result is that they're chasing their tails, figuratively speaking. He won't believe a thing like this until he sees it for himself (although, he is willing to entertain the possibility, at least, that a place like this is capable of things beyond his imagining), and this boy is too obstinate (or otherwise) to provide him with adequate evidence. There is no benefit to further conversation, and Kurama is not one to undertake anything that confers no benefits to him.

He turns away rather abruptly, tugging his hood back up over his hair. "Thank you," he says, although he can't quite keep it from sounding rather stiff, "for your assistance, and for the...information. And remember what I told you about needing someone for a job."

He starts to walk away with neither another word, nor a backwards glance.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] Especially to any of the YYH crew, or anybody who'd like to lose some valuables.

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