Disclaimer: YuYu Hakusho belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi.
In-character? Who knows… it's been about 2 years since I've seen the Dark Tournament episodes, and I've never seen the movie Poltergeist Report.
Yes, this is the infamous teahouse fic. Those who enjoy this might also want to take a look at The Heavenly Executioner and Onegaishimasu. Not that the plots are related, other than the general, "What will they do with Karasu after he dies?"
Over Tea
Dead people have far too much time on their hands.
Accordingly, the Afterlife provided for various hobbies and pastimes, all suited to the tasks a soul had completed during the course of its life. It boasted among these a very fine and reputed teahouse.
Granted, the quality varied depending on the skill of the self-appointed chefs and staff at the time, but generally the service excelled. Technically the dead did not require sustenance, but old habits die hard. So demons and humans alike came to sample the fare—and the entertainment. On occasion, someone would serve alcohol. This would inevitably lead to drunken and rowdy brawls (although it had been disputed as to whether souls could actually become drunk, but old, bad habits die even harder), which could last for hours, as no one was ever injured, and provided great amusement.
All of the tables were completely occupied, save one. A demon patron, he surmised, by the elfin ears and dark wings, strangely more bat-like than bird-like. Despite his gothic appearance, he chatted easily with the pretty waitress. He must have made a joke, for the human woman was laughing, tears of mirth gathering in the corners of her eyes.
"You know," he smirked suggestively, "you look really cute when you smile like that."
She blushed obligingly. In her hands she carried a circular board to set dishes on, and she playfully swatted his shoulder with the empty tray. Observing the scene, he rather felt she would have gone for his head had the patron not been wearing a hat. "You idiot! This isn't one of those kinds of teahouses," she giggled.
The stranger shrugged, sighing good-naturedly, "Ah, well. If Kurama was here, we'd show you an especially good time."
"If I have to listen to another one of those 'In the good old days' stories…"
As gracefully as a landing bird, he swooped into the opposite seat, neatly cutting into the conversation. "Kurama? That's an interesting name. After the mountain in Japan?"
"Oh, please, sir," the waitress laughed, "don't encourage him! He'll go on for days about his greatest partner, the craziest and best thief in all of Makai, second only to—"
"—to myself." He winked jauntily. "Kuronue, at your service."
Cheerily, she fetched a pad of paper and a pencil, ready to take notes. "You're in for the long haul now. Can I get you anything? House special, I swear it's good today." At his nod, she left the two alone.
"A willing victim." Kuronue propped his chin on a fist, what appeared to be a trademark smirk playing about the corners of his lips. "Demon, right? How long ago are you from? In fact, if you've died a good bit less than a thousand years ago, I'd be insulted if you've never heard of us!"
The newcomer leaned gracefully across the table, fingering a lock of the chimera's dark hair. An eyebrow quirked in response to this behavior, and he missed the characteristic flinch his long, pale hands often received. Expression hidden by a silver mask, his violet eyes narrowed contemplatively, then he sat back again.
"You have nice hair," he replied by way of introduction, "but you could stand to take a bit better care of it." He spread his hands widely, an expressive gesture. "My name is Karasu. I presume that by 'Kurama' you mean you are a colleague of the infamous youko Kurama? I am acquainted with him."
"Acquainted, hm? Did he steal from you, you hire him, or did this meeting not involve business at all?"
"Business of a different sort."
Sipping from Karasu's teacup, Kuronue nodded sagely. "I always suspected he was into kinky things like that." He let out a yelp as a bomb detonated a mere inch from his nose, harmlessly spilling tea all down his front. "Mind not doing that again?" he mumbled dryly.
"My apologies." He folded his hands contritely. "I merely meant his current business."
The former thief leaned forward eagerly. "You've got new rumors about what Kurama's up to these days? Do tell."
Karasu was a demon of few hobbies, but those he did possess he pursued with obsessive fervor and zeal. One such pastime involved pyrotechnic explosives. Another involved finding things he loved, and then destroying them.
Unfortunately, his last such conquest had killed him first, and now the crow was at a loss as to how to fulfil that particular mission. So with little else to do for the rest of eternity, he was content to assuage his passion for Kurama with the next best source.
"So he had just scaled the wall, run halfway across the estate by leaping from rooftop to rooftop, jumped inside through a window, run down seven halls all free of guards because of his carefully calculated timing, dodged all sorts of traps, stolen the treasure, and generally outwitted everyone to escape home free… and then the idiot trips! I mean, Kurama just trips over nothing in the middle of the hall! Not only that, he drops the statue, and it shatters." Trying to reign in his hysterical laughter, Kuronue proceeded to drain his companion's tea. "And to top it all off, he falls right on top of a trip wire! Guards everywhere, we're instantly surrounded. Second greatest thief in Makai, my ass."
Karasu relaxed in his seat, watching bemusedly as his itooshi's favored partner elaborated on every embarrassing incident he could recall. My, but what an interesting reputation Kurama would find he had acquired while he was living in the human world…
Kuronue sighed. "I do miss him, though I am glad he's still alive. But the first thing I'm going to tell him when I see him is how pathetic it is for him to lose a fight to a dead guy."
"Hmm." Shiori slipped a hand under Kurama's bangs, laying the other on her own forehead. "Strange, you don't feel warm. But I'd swear you're coming down with something, Shuuichi." He sneezed, confirming her suspicions, but held up his hands placatingly.
"I feel fine. We had a lab in biology today, this may be an allergic reaction to something I was exposed to during class. It will be out of my system by morning, I'm certain."
She still looked doubtful, but released her son nevertheless.
Out in the hallway, Hatanaka Shuuichi accosted his stepbrother cheerfully. "You know that superstition, how they say you sneeze when someone's talking about you. It's probably a meeting of your fangirls." He snickered, adding, "And oblivious fanboys."
Raising his eyes upwards, Kurama entreated, "Inari… please let this be illness."
…
Owari
…
-Windswift