Oookay then. This is the edited version of Private Urameshi. There is a terrible new rule on this site. It states that we can no longer Use already published song lyrics. Thus, Private Urameshi is no longer written to 'Private Malone'. Sorry, sonfic fans. This new rule sucks!
"Hmmm. Anything interesting in the paper today Patch?"
'Mrrow' the cat responded. Kurama laughed.
"Really? Get off that. I'd like to read it." The orange and white spotted cat got off the newspaper long enough for his owner to pull a section of it towards himself. "Any particular reason that you picked the classifieds?" Kurama asked, scanning the first page. "Want me to look for a lady-friend for you?" the cat sniffed and turned, presenting his backside to Kurama. "Okay. I won't check. Sheesh." He turned back to his paper. An ad for a 'Special Operations' video game made his eyes blur, and he bit his lip, staring fixedly at his lap. Several tears dropped to his jeans.
"Brreek?" Patch questioned, getting up and climbing into Kurama's lap. The male smiled slightly and wiped his eyes.
"Sorry buddy. I was just…just remembering." He whispered.
/Flashback/ Kurama stood miserably before Koenma, trying hard not to cry. He was upset for two reasons. For one, the deep scars down his right leg and his back were still swollen, and they hurt. For two, he was sure of why he was here, and the thought filled him with dread. "Kurama? Are you alright?"
"Y-yes sir." He stammered, looking up from the floor.
"You know why I've called you here don't you?"
"I think so sir."
"You are the most amazing man I have ever had working for me. Your record is impeccable, and your performance is always above and beyond expectancy. But the facts remain. That leg wound will never fully heal, nor will you ever have perfect vision again." Kurama winced. He'd forgotten that one in his mental tally of injuries that could get him discharged. The trouble was, he'd narrowly missed losing his left eye to a dagger in a close-quarters fight. As a result, he only had partial vision out of that eye now.
"Sir?" Kurama asked, wishing that he were somewhere else, anywhere but here. He knew what was coming.
"As much as I hate to do this, I have to. As of Today, you are no longer in my service. I'm sorry."
"B-but sir! What will I do? This is my life!"
"This was your life. I'm sorry Kurama. Look on the bright side. Because of your performance, you've got enough to keep you going for years, if you don't get a job. You're still young, only 27. You've got a long life ahead of you. Besides, there are quite a few girls out there who'll love you, scars, limp, and all." That one hurt. The limp was a very delicate subject with Kurama. "Have I left anything out?"
"Sir, will I still be allowed to cross over to the Human World?"
"Of course. But why do you want to?"
"I plan to live there. I like it there, and I'll be far enough away that I won't get many reminders of who I used to be."
"Very well. It has been a pleasure working with you Kurama."
"You too sir. Goodbye." Kurama turned and walked out. Only when he had reached his personal quarters did he let the tears fall. /End Flashback/
Kurama leaned over the cat to look at the next page. He ran a finger down a column, and then stopped it. His fingertip rested on an ad that read 'Old Chevy. Not sure if it'll run. $1,000.' After this was a number to call if you were interested, and an address if you wanted to see the vehicle. "Prrrow?" Patch asked, hopping up to lick the ad. Kurama didn't answer. He was already outside, headed for the bus stop with the address on a scrap of paper in his fist.
"It's out back in the barn." The woman said, pointing over her shoulder with a spatula at the patch of trees, beyond which could just be seen the roof of another building.
"Thanks. " Kurama said.
"No problem hun. Come back to the house when you're done. This batch of brownies should be done when you come back." Kurama grinned
"I will." He loved brownies. This said, he headed out the door for the barn.
/At the barn/ Sure enough, there was a large shape sitting at the back of the old barn, covered with a heavy tarp, slightly faded. Kurama approached, leaving the big double doors open to let in some of the bright June sunlight. He frowned. The shape was a little too low-slung and streamlined to be a Chevy. Painted on the tarp was a date. "1966! Now this has been here awhile!" The tarp was coated with a thick layer of dust. Almost forty years worth Kurama thought, bending down and getting a grip on the edge. Well, here goes! He gave the tarp a yank, and it slid off, raising an immense cloud of dust. Coughing, Kurama retreated to the breathable air outside the barn and waited impatiently for the dust to settle. Only when the air in the barn was clear did Kurama venture forth once more. When he rounded the corner to the corner where the vehicle was, his breath caught in his throat. Where he'd expected to see an old Chevy, sat a '66 Corvette, sleek and quiet and black.
/Back in the house/ "Are you sure you don't mind?" Kurama asked, trying not to drool over the fresh brownie in front of him.
"Of course I'm sure. I set a price, and that won't change, regardless of the make, model, or type of car it may be. Now eat up. That tow-truck should be here soon. Besides, what would I do with a Corvette? I'll bet you'll attract more girls now than you did before." Kurama blushed.
"I'm not that good looking."
"Sure you are!"
"But…my scars." Kurama's hand moved to the long, thin scar that passed right over his left eye and lips, from hairline to jaw.
"Trust me hun, they add to your looks. They make you look tough, like a guy who can take care of himself and his girl."
"Thanks. The brownie was great." Kurama said, getting up. "I hear the truck. I'd better get going."
"You take care. Let me know if you need anything!" she called, waving. Kurama walked out to the truck and told the driver where the car was.
/Later, at Kurama's house/ "Isn't she beautiful Patch?" Kurama breathed. Patch, who had taken up residence on the hood of the car, which was now parked in the garage, yawned. The keys hung on a hook by the door. "Never mind." Kurama said. He decided to check the plug-box, to see if he'd need to get spark plugs in town. When the cover of the plug-box came off, a folded paper, slightly yellow with age, fell out. Kurama picked it up, and, satisfied that the spark plugs were fine, sat down in the passenger seat to read the note.
June 16, 1966Hello. My name is Private Yusuke Urameshi. I served in the Army. If you're reading this, then I didn't make it home. Oh well, for everything I lose, someone else gains. This car was my dream, and I expect you to take good care of her. You can make her your own, but remember this: You'll always be riding with me. So long!
-Private Urameshi
It took several weeks, but, after putting in several hours a night, after he came home from work, and literally falling asleep in the car several times, Kurama got the car in working order. When he started the engine for the first time, he just stood there for the better part of five minutes, mesmerized by the glorious sound of the engine. He moved it out into the driveway, and washed it off. With the application of a coat of car wax, the onyx hide shone like a diamond. Finally, Kurama took it out for a drive. The day was bright and sunny, a perfect mid-July day. Feeling exceedingly proud of himself, the redhead put the ragtop down and headed for town (He lived a short way beyond the city limits, for reasons of space.) For the first time in the six months since he'd left the Spirit World, Kurama pulled his hair, which hung halfway down his back, into a ponytail. It had been allowed to hang loose for those six months, and wearing it this way was proof that he'd put the past behind him. The ponytail style had been a mandatory part of his uniform. He drove down the main street, the one that all the teenagers hung out on. Members of both sexes gaped as he cruised past them. Laughing, Kurama headed out to thank Judy, the woman he'd bought the 'Vette from, and to take her for a drive
/Several days later/ "Now do you like it?" Kurama asked. Patch, who had snuck into the car, purred and pawed at the radio controls. "You want music? Sure!" he hadn't checked out this particular component of his car, and it took some time to pick up a station. When he finally found a station, it was the local Oldies station. After some experiments, Kurama determined that this was the only station that he could pick up. Singing along to the songs, he spent his free time exploring the winding roads and chatting with Judy, who treated him like a nephew. There were times, usually when Kurama was alone, and away from other cars, that the redhead was sure there was another person sitting in the car with him. Whenever this happened, he reread the letter the car had concealed and smiled. Soon, he got used to the feeling, and would occasionally talk to the presence, about his combat days. Sometimes, he was sure that, if he turned really fast, he would see a soldier in the passenger seat.
July faded into August, which turned to September in a blaze of color. Kurama liked nothing more than to drive into the hills and enjoy the scenery.
One rainy night, Kurama was driving home from dinner with Judy. The radio always picked up the Oldies station best at night, and, as always, it was playing. Kurama neared a sharp turn in the road. The rain made it impossible to see, and, as a result, he was moving too fast when he hit the curve. The car skidded with a scream of tires, and fell over the steep embankment. Kurama covered his head with his arms and thanked whoever had come up with the idea of seatbelts. The car halted at the base of the incline. Kurama thought himself safe, but felt dazed. He'd hit his head despite his caution. Suddenly, he stiffened. Is that smoke I smell? he thought. A flickering orange light caught his eye. Flames! The fire raced through the car, filling its interior with smoke. Kurama coughed and choked, trying to free his seatbelt. His fingers fumbled. Panicking now, he scrabbled at it. Another puff of vile smoke hit him, and he knew no more.
Beep Oh, my headBeep
Where am I?
Beep"Will he be okay?"
Judy?
"He should be. I've never seen so many scars on one person, especially one as young as this. But Doctor Edwards says that he's quite a strong young man. He'll be fine. I'm sure of it."
BeepDoc Edwards? But he was the doctor I saw in the Spirit World.
Beep
"So what really happened to him anyway? I just got the call that I had a burn victim from a car crash. No one said how it happened."
Beep
"Well, he was headed home after coming over to my place for dinner. I live up in the mountains, and the road winds all over the place. What we think happened was that the rain obscured his vision and he hit a curve too fast. The car went over the side and crashed upside-down. A fire got started and he passed out from the smoke."
Beep
"Who found him? How did he escape?"
Beep
"Well, there was another car a little way behind him, and the driver saw the light from the fire when he went past. He pulled over and ran down to see if there was anyone trapped inside. He says he saw a soldier pulling Kurama out."
Beep
"A soldier? What was his name?"
Beep
"Well, that's the weird thing. The guy said he though that he could actually see through the soldier! He disappeared after Kurama was a safe distance away, and he hasn't been found. No traces at all."
Beep
Thank you Yusuke. I'll owe you one, when the time comes.
Beep
Kurama woke up fully in the military hospital in the Spirit World two days later. As it turned out, his friend Judy was a demon herself, hiding from a family who hated her. She'd heard about the crash, and had rushed for the hospital where Kurama had been taken. As any demon would, she knew that the redhead was a demon, and had put out a UDC, or Universal Distress Call. A response had come immediately, and Kurama had been rushed to the Spirit World ASAP. She showed him her true form, and Kurama did the same. Imagine their surprise when they discovered that they were the same type! The two fox demons, with just a year between their ages, stuck together during Kurama's recovery. After Kurama was released from hospital, he used the Spirit World database to look up one 'Private Yusuke Urameshi'. As it turned out, the young man had been a solider in the army during the Vietnam War. On a slightly stranger note, the day he died was the same day that Kurama came into possession of his treasured Corvette. The symbol for his division was a hawk silhouette.
Kurama ended up completely losing sight in his left eye, and his limp is even more obvious. As for other damage, the only other marks he would carry were a pair of strange scars. One, on his back, just below the right shoulder blade, and the other on his right leg, on the outside of his leg, just above the knee. Right where, as it happens, hands would be if you were being carried. The scars bear an odd resemblance to the silhouette of a hawk.