A/N: Mandatory disclaimer: I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or anything affiliated. I swear ^.^
Welcome to my second attempt at humor (My Discworld fic, "Courtship Roulette," keeps getting reviews like "I laughed but I'm not sure I was supposed to..." .) and this time it involves the gang from Yu Yu Hakusho!
This should be interesting...
AU: This is set in England, though I'm not even going to try for a time period. Sort of medieval-esque but without the flowery language, because I just can't deal with dialogue like that. Think Yu Yu Hakusho meets Robin Hood: Men in Tights. And then you've sort of got it.
Reviews always welcome ^.^
***
He grimaced at the parchment shoved into his hands. "You can't seriously be thinking of entering this, Kuwabara." His long, red hair was tied into a ponytail that hung long down his back. His clothes hung from his frame, having not been fitted for him personally. A belt of frayed rope remedied the situation well enough. The hilt of a knife pressed into his calf, held by his bootstraps. Other, smaller knives rested in the wrists of his gloves - worn at the fingertips from much textile abuse - and in the band securing his hair.
His companion grinned widely and grabbed the piece right back, brushing his ruddy, orange curls from his eyes with haughty annoyance. "Why wouldn't I? I'm set to win it, man!" He thrust one fist into the air, startling a merchant woman next to him so badly she dropped an entire basketful of turnips. Kuwabara walked on, unnoticing. "And look, there's money too!" He blinked. The parchment had disappeared.
"Huh. Well what do you know." Kuwabara whirled to find his companion leaning comfortably against a stall. He patted the muzzle of a grizzled mare as his bright, green eyes flicked over his stolen prize. "Swordfighting, huh? First place, hand of the king's daughter and..."
"Hey! Kurama! Give that back! I found it fair and square!" Kuwabara waved a finger under Kurama's nose, the dirt crescents under his fingernails easily visible.
Kurama raised a demure eyebrow and acquiesced, but not without memorizing a certain monetary value with more zeroes than he'd ever before dreamt of. He ruffled the mare's gray mane and set into an easy stroll between the merchant carts. "Well, Kuwabara, this sounds like a good idea."
"Damn straight!" Kuwabara, freshly vindicated, walked with a slight bounce to his heavy steps. The worn heels of his boots sent up little puffs of dust.
"I only wonder," Kurama continued, "how we're going to get all the way from Hereford to Nottingham in time for the tournament." He pulled an apple from atop a heap and bit in, spitting out a mouthful of rotten flesh. He scowled at the fermented thing and pitched it over his shoulder.
Kuwabara's face fell and he pulled the parchment so close to his eyes his nose made a visible dent on the other side. "Walk?"
Kurama rolled his eyes and snatched the parchment from his travelling companion. "It's two weeks' walk if we rush. That would leave us less than a month to prepare."
He stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. Kuwabara had frozen in his tracks and was trying to engage a comely maid in conversation. Kurama shrugged and called, "Stop, thief!"
Kuwabara flinched and looked wildly about before catching sight of Kurama.
"Don't DO that!"
Kurama grinned and settled back into his pace, one borne of his chosen profession. Absentmindedly he tried for another apple and was pleasantly rewarded with a ripe, unblemished specimen. Second time's the charm.
'This contest,' he mused, 'well, it would be an interesting diversion. And, should one of us happen to win...' He smiled into the apple, winking at an elderly woman that happened to meet his gaze. 'Kuwabara can keep the girl.'
Welcome to my second attempt at humor (My Discworld fic, "Courtship Roulette," keeps getting reviews like "I laughed but I'm not sure I was supposed to..." .) and this time it involves the gang from Yu Yu Hakusho!
This should be interesting...
AU: This is set in England, though I'm not even going to try for a time period. Sort of medieval-esque but without the flowery language, because I just can't deal with dialogue like that. Think Yu Yu Hakusho meets Robin Hood: Men in Tights. And then you've sort of got it.
Reviews always welcome ^.^
***
He grimaced at the parchment shoved into his hands. "You can't seriously be thinking of entering this, Kuwabara." His long, red hair was tied into a ponytail that hung long down his back. His clothes hung from his frame, having not been fitted for him personally. A belt of frayed rope remedied the situation well enough. The hilt of a knife pressed into his calf, held by his bootstraps. Other, smaller knives rested in the wrists of his gloves - worn at the fingertips from much textile abuse - and in the band securing his hair.
His companion grinned widely and grabbed the piece right back, brushing his ruddy, orange curls from his eyes with haughty annoyance. "Why wouldn't I? I'm set to win it, man!" He thrust one fist into the air, startling a merchant woman next to him so badly she dropped an entire basketful of turnips. Kuwabara walked on, unnoticing. "And look, there's money too!" He blinked. The parchment had disappeared.
"Huh. Well what do you know." Kuwabara whirled to find his companion leaning comfortably against a stall. He patted the muzzle of a grizzled mare as his bright, green eyes flicked over his stolen prize. "Swordfighting, huh? First place, hand of the king's daughter and..."
"Hey! Kurama! Give that back! I found it fair and square!" Kuwabara waved a finger under Kurama's nose, the dirt crescents under his fingernails easily visible.
Kurama raised a demure eyebrow and acquiesced, but not without memorizing a certain monetary value with more zeroes than he'd ever before dreamt of. He ruffled the mare's gray mane and set into an easy stroll between the merchant carts. "Well, Kuwabara, this sounds like a good idea."
"Damn straight!" Kuwabara, freshly vindicated, walked with a slight bounce to his heavy steps. The worn heels of his boots sent up little puffs of dust.
"I only wonder," Kurama continued, "how we're going to get all the way from Hereford to Nottingham in time for the tournament." He pulled an apple from atop a heap and bit in, spitting out a mouthful of rotten flesh. He scowled at the fermented thing and pitched it over his shoulder.
Kuwabara's face fell and he pulled the parchment so close to his eyes his nose made a visible dent on the other side. "Walk?"
Kurama rolled his eyes and snatched the parchment from his travelling companion. "It's two weeks' walk if we rush. That would leave us less than a month to prepare."
He stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. Kuwabara had frozen in his tracks and was trying to engage a comely maid in conversation. Kurama shrugged and called, "Stop, thief!"
Kuwabara flinched and looked wildly about before catching sight of Kurama.
"Don't DO that!"
Kurama grinned and settled back into his pace, one borne of his chosen profession. Absentmindedly he tried for another apple and was pleasantly rewarded with a ripe, unblemished specimen. Second time's the charm.
'This contest,' he mused, 'well, it would be an interesting diversion. And, should one of us happen to win...' He smiled into the apple, winking at an elderly woman that happened to meet his gaze. 'Kuwabara can keep the girl.'