Sekamu: crouching down, pokes "Himura Kenshin: Spirit Detective" with a stick I think it's dead.
Myst: pinches nose Ewwwww… It is. Let's try again, shall we?
Sekamu: Great! I had another idea, anyway.
Myst: Uh oh…
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"Murder is a charge that is taken very seriously here in the Spirit World, Himura-san."
"This one understands."
"But then, we must take into account your attempt at repentance. Not many would sacrifice themselves like you have. However... compared with the deaths you caused, it is still not enough to get into Heaven..."
"This one... understands."
"...Or, it seems, into Hell. You seem to be hanging in limbo, Himura-san."
"N-nani..?"
"Luckily, we have a way of dealing with ones like you."
"Oro..?"
"Reincarnation!"
The crash of a gavel resonated around the large hall, plunging Himura Kenshin into darkness.
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Riiinngg.
Riiinngg.
Riiinngg.
Kurama didn't hear the incessant ringing of the telephone at first. He was too absorbed in writing a history essay about the revolutionary warrior Katsura Kogoro to be bothered with any issues of the current century.
Finally, the ringing stopped. There was a click, and the message machine started blasting a loud, brash voice: "Kurama! You'd better answer! I only get one call, and I really don't feel like begging for another one!"
Kurama was immediately brought back to the modern era and picked up the phone. "Yusuke? What do you mean only one call..?"
"Er... well... I kinda need a favor, old buddy..!"
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Feeling rather uncomfortable (after all, this was one of the very few times that he had had… legal… dealings with the police. Kurama for one was very very happy about the absence of hand cuffs.), Kurama entered the police station. The only person there was the secretary, so he went over to him.
"Excuse me, sir?" Kurama asked, wondering if Hiei and the man in front of him used the same brand of hair gel. The secretary had blond hair that stuck up in the air like an insane broom.
"Yeah?"
"I'm here to bail a friend of mine out of jail. Who should I talk to?"
"Go through that door to the right. You want Fujita Goro. He'll help you out." Kurama had already turned around when he caught something that to a normal human wouldn't have been audible. "Probably."
Even more uncomfortable than before, Kurama entered into a group of cells. Ignoring the few wolf whistles (ug, Long hair does not equal girl!), he looked around for Yusuke, and found him… fast asleep. Nnn…, Kurama mentally complained, I come all the way out here to pay bail, and the least he could do is actually be awake! Unfortunately for the Spirit Detective, he had chosen to fall asleep rather close to the bars of the cell, giving a certain mischievous fox an idea.
Poke.
"Nng."
Poke.
"G'way, mom, lemme sleep. No school today…"
"Yusuke, I am most certainly not your mother. Now, wake up."
Yusuke sat up, rubbing his head rather sheepishly. "Oh, hey Kurama. Glad you could make it."
"I'm sure. You're lucky my mother was on a date with Hatanaka-san. Do you know where an office would be?" Yusuke pointed further down the hallway. "Thank you," Kurama replied as he began to follow Yusuke's directions. None of the cells back this way held people, he was glad to note. Finally, he reached the office door. Knocking twice, he waited for an answer.
"If it has anything to do with work, go stuff your head in the toilet!!!"
Kurama took that as an invitation to come in.
The first thing he noticed was the smell of cigarettes—old ones, and the one that was hanging from the lips of the policeman sitting behind the desk. The desk itself was an elegant antique desk, one hundred, no, two hundred and fifty years old. Elegant, yet simple, and quite out of place in a police station. Perhaps he should relieve them—Kurama cut himself off. I need to stop doing that, he reminded himself. The rest of the office was sparsely furnished, and the only piece of furniture besides the desk was the chair behind it. Clearly not a welcoming room.
"Well? What is it?"
And not a welcoming man, either… The policeman was tall, with bangs that Kurama was surprised did not remove the narrow eyes beneath them. His whole face was narrow, and when he noticed that Kurama was looking at him, he removed the cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke. "And you are…? Come on, I don't have all day." Fujita glanced at the clock. "Night. What are you here for?"
"I'm sorry, Fujita-san," Kurama said, stepping further into the office, shutting the door, and bowing. "I'm here to bail a friend of mine out of jail. How much is it posted for Urameshi Yusuke?" he continued, not noticing the slightly surprised look the officer gave him.
Fujita glanced down at the paper in front of him. Kurama winced at the number that was named. He was lucky that he'd decided to work at the greenhouse on the weekends, or he would never have managed to have enough. He sighed, and pulled his checkbook out of his pocket. He wrote out the check, signed his name, and walked over to Fujita to give it to him, since the man seemed less than forthcoming. Kurama would have put the check on the desk, received the keys, and been done with the whole thing, but Fujita, having stood up, grabbed his hand before he could pull away.
"Fujita-san? Pardon me, but what…?"
The officer was mumbling to himself, saying, "Calluses, yes, but not from a sword. Some kind of weapon, though, I'm fairly sure."
"They're from writing. I'm a student at high school," Kurama lied, acting as innocent as possible and hoping the officer was buying it.
He wasn't. Kurama grinned largely into the searching glare that Fujita was giving him, restraining a nervous laugh.
Whatever Fujita was looking for, he apparently didn't find it, since after a couple of seconds, he shoved Kurama's hand back into him. Kurama let himself over balance (recovering would make it seem like he was a fighter), and stumbled against the door with a small 'oof'.
Fujita, meanwhile, was rummaging through the many drawers of the out-of-place desk. Finding the keys, he threw them at Kurama, who caught them one-handed and juggled them back and forth before getting a good grip. All for show, of course, but it managed to convince the police officer of something.
Kurama quickly decided that now would be a good time to leave. He bowed and thanked Fujita before doing so. Something about that man was… disconcerting.
"You got the keys!!" Yusuke shouted with glee as Kurama came quickly back. "Get me out!"
"Hold on, hold on," Kurama muttered, as eager as Yusuke to be out of the station. He unlocked the door, and, not even waiting for him, began to walk out.
The pair passed by Broom-head, with whom Kurama left the keys, and got outside, where Kurama insisted on coming with Yusuke home. He did not want the Detective to get arrested. Again.
They both made it to Yusuke's house safely, even if Yusuke had wanted to stop at every bar on the way there. Kurama had insisted Yusuke go home. After saying goodnight to his friend, he went on his own way.
He could finish the essay… or go to bed. The second one was much more appealing at this point…
Kurama was turning onto his street when he felt the spike of energy behind him. He turned around, wondering where he had felt it before. "Anyone there?" Shrugging, he turned back around and walked into the house.