#yeeeeah the scars are still fresh.

[fujii-draws]

(OLD) Au’s where future trio go back to the present are fun and all but uh.

I don’t think hero and partner would be too thrilled to see a certain someone.

[writeawayjake]

CHAPTER 15!!! You’re not a sword

   “He doesn’t look like much. A little scrawny,” Kayle said with a raised eyebrow. Both he and Oren stood over him. Still not fully healed from the ambush he hadn’t been much use to them yet but she was confident he would. Nyah knelt by his bedroll changing his bandages, all orange curls and snark.

   “Well he was the only one we found alive so what does that tell you?”

   “Hm, tells me he’s either lucky or a coward. No way this kid’s a warrior.” Kayle sneered.

   “I can hear you. And feel free to try me any time big fella.” The soldier replied with fire in his eyes, clearly having woken up from his rest.

   “I’ll wait til you’re whole again little brother.” Kayle chuckled.

   “Neither of you are gonna do a damn thing.” Nyah barked. She was getting fed up with Kayle’s childishness. This new one, this legionnaire, he seemed nice enough, at least when he was conscious and when he didn’t wake up screaming he tended to sleep more or less peacefully.

   Oren covered his mouth, spluttering, before nudging Kayle for them to leave. Nyah scowled at the two of them before returning to the bandages. As annoying as they were being she was more irritated by the interruption of her work. Healing required all of one’s attention to be done right, and this idiot required a lot of healing. When they found him he had almost bled to death. On top of that, judging by the state of the Legion corpses nearby he must have been fighting for at least a full day. He shouldn’t have lived through all that.

   Cinching a bandage tight around the deep cut in his forearm she saw him wince.

   “Sorry,” she uttered, more out of politeness than actual contrition. The fire in his eyes died down, they became softer, kinder. Still there was an intensity behind them, like they belonged on an older man.

   “I’ll be alright.” The swordsman replied. She could tell his pride was still hurting from being bedridden these last few days. Men like these, they never seemed satisfied unless they were being useful.

   Ugh the ego. She thought. He began moving to sit up, “scrawny” as he was his arms were still strong and supple, the mark of his legion still fresh upon one. His arms and chest bore many small scars as well as all the new scrapes, bruises, and cuts. After a bit of grunting he managed to sit up.

   What has this guy been into? She wondered.

   “I realized I never introduced myself. I’m Jared.” He stretched his hand out with a polite but shy smile. “I also never thanked you for helping me…” She scoffed and shook his hand,

   “Well we couldn’t just leave you like that. Besides, you reminded me of a squirrel I found on the side of the rode once. It’d been run over by a wagon.” She said with an evil smirk.

   “Oh really?” He asked, with a chuckle, grabbing his ribs in pain.

   “Yeeeeah, all pathetic lookin’ and covered in blood - kinda gangly.”

   “Well don’t hold back just give it to me straight.”

   “I mean you just looked so ugly, still do if I’m being honest.” She replied, putting her bandages and equipment away. Oh no, am I flirting? I’m flirting. Am I? Oh shit��

   “It’s like you’re holding back why can’t you just be honest with me?” He said with a shit eating grin.

   “You’re honestly the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.” She said, pretending to hold back her gag reflex. Why am I still flirting back??? He responded only with a smile. Ooooooh crap, okay don’t make it awkward. She cleared her throat, “Well uh - anyway, those wraps are clean now, you should rest.”

   “I’d feel a lot more comfortable if I got my sword back, kinda feel like I’m a captive without it.”

   “Oh. We didn’t take it from you - your sword was pretty much destroyed, and your armor was falling apart. We just left everything there.” The edge of his sword was chipped and destroyed, the body cracked down the middle. His armor was covered in slash marks, dents, and holes. Half the straps had been ripped or cut. They would have had to bring it to forge to even patch things up let alone repair anything.

   His mouth twisted in frustration, before an eyebrow raised in morbid curiosity. He looked under his blanket and began to blush.

   “And uh - who switched out my pants?”

   Oh no… “Well that privilege fell to me.” She said dryly.

   “Just couldn’t wait to get my pants off huh?” He asked with a chuckle.

   Seriously? “Don’t flatter yourself, I’ve been healing since I was a girl. After a certain point it all starts to look like raw meat.” 

   “Well that's comforting.” He laughed. “So, How long until I'm fit enough to fight?” She sat there astounded,

   How the hell is he thinking about fighting right now? Having to shake off the confusion brought on by his question she answered, “Uh, well - If you're looking to heal, You need to rest at least another week.” Realistically it should be two weeks but this one seemed to have a deathwish.

   “No, that's too long I can't.” He said, getting up from under his blanket. His legs barely worked but he tried to walk on them all the same. The fact they didn’t buckle under him was actually impressive.

   “Do you have somewhere you need to be?” She asked in a patronizing tone.

   “Got someone who needs killing.” He said, matter of factly. He kept looking around for something, probably clothes seeing as how he was only in a pair of breeches.

   “You're not talking about the Dark Lord are you? You know no one knows how to kill him right?”

   “I was gonna start by cutting his head off and work my way forward.”

   “You’re an idiot.” Shit was that out loud?

   “Eh you’re not wrong there.” He replied, walking toward a pile of supplies that Oren had left out. Reaching out she grabbed his shoulder right where she’d put a large bandage. He let out a grunt of pain before falling to one knee.

   “Oh no you don’t! You’re my patient now sit the hell down.”

   “I can’t.” He grunted. “I have to find him. I have to stop him.”

   “You’re no good to anyone in your condition. Now sit the hell down!” Growling through his teeth he agreed,

   “Fine…” letting go of his shoulder she slung his arm over hers and helped him back to his bedroll. Getting him back down onto it was fairly difficult, seeing as how he could barely stand but after a lot of painful grunting he managed to get back down on the bed.

   “Alright, let’s get your mind off all this Dark Lord business. Tell me about yourself. What did you do before the legion?” He paused a moment, like he’d rather be doing anything else, but realizing he had no other options he replied,

   “I used to do a few odd jobs here and there. But I made my money doingggg - hrm - security.”

   “Security?” She asked suspiciously, wondering how someone of his stature got into such a business.

   “I helped keep the riff raff out of a certain establishment.”

   “Ah, just vague enough to be interesting.” It seemed like he was hiding something.

   “It was a brothel alright? ‘The Wilted Rose’. Some girls there had reached out to me and my friends for help with rowdy customers. Eventually the madame hired us on.”

   “Reached out to you?” She asked, leading the conversation.

   “I’d gained a bit of a reputation I guess…”

   “For what?”

   “Fighting… To be completely honest I was a bit of a hooligan” The statement seemed to make him sad. Like he was ashamed of it.

   “How much were you earning?”

   “The madame gave us five gold pieces a month -” he began.

   Holy crap that’s a lot. She thought. More than most low born boys make in a year. He can’t be more than nineteen...

   “- but I never took any payment from the girls.”

   “Oh really?” She honestly didn’t believe him. In her experience people would say anything to make themselves look good.

   “I wouldn’t believe me either,” he continued, shrugging.

   “Well that certainly is noble of you. Sticking up for those girls.” She replied, her tone heavy with sarcasm. As if he didn’t hear it or didn’t care he replied,

   “I had a sister… I knew if she were in their shoes I’d want someone protecting her…” His voice had a weight carried by many that she had helped in this conflict. A weight of loss. His eyes gazed into the distance but seemed like they saw nothing in front of them.

   That explains all that anger… “What was her name?” She asked.

   “Skye…” He said softly, memories in his mind and regret in his eyes. She had seen that same look on faces all across the countryside, in lines of refugees, and in her own reflection. After a moment of contemplation she decided to share with her patient.

   “The Dark Lord’s men took my brothers and my father…” She said in a somber tone.

   “So that’s why you fight?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

   “It’s why I heal. I couldn’t save them. I felt so… useless - sitting there screaming for help because I didn’t know what to do. Now, I’m never useless.” Screams and fire filled her mind. Rubble and horror. Darkness.

   A soft smile crept across his face as he stared into her eyes. Something about him made her feel warm.

   “That’s good,” He said. “This world needs a lot of healing.”

   “Why do you fight?” She asked. Trying to distract herself from the memories and the tears beginning to form, as if that would make them go away.

   “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I always figured -” He seemed uncomfortable explaining it, like he didn’t quite know how to put it into words. “ - I know I can take the hit. I know that it hurts and it’s terrible but I’m able to. I guess I figured it’s better for me to take it than someone who maybe couldn’t.”

   “You’d rather get hurt than watch it happen to someone else…” She said. This Jared was full full of surprises. When she’d asked Kayle he just said he was in it for the glory, Brock was in it for the booty, and Oren, well he never said anything.

   “I guess yeah.” He replied quietly, almost embarrassed.  

   “Well, that’s good. This world needs more heroes.” She said with a smirk.

   “I’m not a hero. I’m just good in a fight. I’m a fist, or a boot, or a sword.”

   “I think you might be more than a sword.”

[lisatelramor]

Run, Hide (It’s Dark Outside)

Y'know, 90% of these random kiss stories involve detective conan or magic kaito characters. Luck of the draw I guess? Either way, they're fun. There's still a few more coming. I just want to space them out.

For the prompt: Heiji – Kurama: Creepy

*

The body in front of him had, so far as Heiji could see, the right number of limbs and all the internal organs one would expect to find in an eviscerated corpse. Said organs gaped like the spilled guts of a fish onto the grass, adding to the scent of blood with the noxious smell of open bowels. The corpse had two blank eyes, and a mouth open in a death snarl. Two arms, two legs. The general shape was right, but that was as close to human as the body got. Reddish brown skin was flecked with stiff hairs like a boar, and the jaw of it had tusks. The nose shape was too flat, the rest of the teeth too sharp, and its hands had what appeared to be claws.

This was only the second time Heiji had ever run across something like this (and boy had he tried to forget the first time). The last time he’d been in middle school, and he’d been firmly removed from the case as a special police unit took over.

Unlike that time, this corpse was fresh. He didn’t have the slightest clue who else might be in this woods. Heiji had just come here for a vacation. Camping was supposed to be fun.

There’s signs of a fight—scarred trees, a few gauges in the ground, a clear line of blood spatter, bits missing where something had been in the way. Or was it someone? Heiji couldn’t tell what exactly cut the body. It was sharp, but not sharp like a blade. He gave the body one more look. In a pants pocket was an ID.  Despite his appearance in death, Akiyama Inozu looked human enough on his ID. Ugly as heck with a smushed looking face, but not someone Heiji would have given a second glance if he ran into him on the street, and well within the normal range of Asian skin and hair color.

Who did you call with shit like this? Police? A priest? Regardless, someone was dead. There was an old guy who owned the camp ground, Heiji supposed, but he’d left two days ago with some sort of family emergency, so Heiji could probably rule him out as both a suspect and someone to call.

Heiji snapped some pictures with his cell phone on the off chance that he would have to call this in to the police. There was a lot of chances evidence could get lost when you were in the middle of a woods. And since he was in the middle of the woods with a fresh corpse, he had to wonder where the killer had gone. Another camp site? Back to a car and driven away by now? The blood was so fresh it hadn’t even fully congealed. No, this had to have happened very recently. So recently that it was a miracle Heiji hadn’t heard the fight while wandering around.

“If I was a killer, where would I go next?” he muttered. Well, if he was a killer who quite possibly just got sprayed with blood and bits of entrails after disemboweling an opponent, he’d probably want to get clean before someone noticed. Showers were less than fifteen minutes of walking away.

Heiji tucked his phone away and edged around the gore radius of Akiyama’s body. He wasn’t going to be hungry any time soon, that was for sure… There was an uncomfortable feeling settled in his hindbrain as he walked, like he was being watched. If he was being watched, Heiji couldn’t figure out where from. Not a pleasant feeling in the middle of the woods with a dead body. And a murderer somewhere who might or might not be human. He might mock Kazuha’s charms, but that was only because he really didn’t’ want to think about the whole other realm of who knows what going on right under his nose. Yeah. Not fun thoughts.

It didn’t help that it was getting dark.

He had to squint a bit in the forest gloom where it was all shadows now that the sun had slipped behind a hillside. He kept a flashlight on his keychain though, and that helped. At least it did until he swung it up and the iridescent glow of eyes scared him half to death.

“Shit!” The glow, there and gone, was probably an animal. Probably. Heiji was never going camping alone again. Hell, dragging Kudo and his group of kids with him would have been better. Even with Kudo’s karma from hell, they’d at least have company. He could make out the edge of the trees and the showers beyond that. Thank goodness.

He didn’t make it to the clearing. Something tripped him—or he tripped on something, it was a bit unclear. Heiji fell hard face first into a bush. Twigs snagged at his skin and clothing as he tried to get out of it. There was something wrapped around his ankle though, and when he raised the flashlight again, there were the same glowing eyes from before, only there was a face with them and silver hair topped by two pointy dog-like ears. “Fuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck….” He was dead. Kitsune. Was it the evil kind or one of Inari’s? Stupid question since it was probably what took out the other guy. Heiji tugged at his trapped foot. There was a root wrapped around his ankle which shouldn’t even have been possible. Not going anywhere then…

Heiji gave as much of a bow as he could considering he was seated and still half in a bush. You were supposed to be polite to supernatural creatures, right? “Hello kitsune-san. I hope I’m not trespassin’ on yer territory or anythin’…”

The kitsune didn’t answer. Its ears pricked forward and its bright gold eyes never left Heiji though. …was it nine tailed foxes that turned silver? And it was a male fox. The stories mostly had pretty fox women or creepy old men, not scary-pretty demon men. It crept closer. There was something coiled at its waist. A whip? Could a whip eviscerate a boar demon? Or had it been those long claws? Hell, it was probably a magic whip to go with the magic creature in front of him.

“Just a harmless camper here, sir, didn’t know ya had claim a the woods. Uh. Was that guy yer prey earlier?” Woah, it was pretty big up close. Taller than Heiji with way wider shoulders and hell, even free Heiji wouldn’t be able to fight against a demon. Its face looked close. Even prettier close up if you were into sharp eyes, fox ears and fangs. “Uh. Please don’t eat me.”

The kitsune either smirked or it was flashing some fang for threat effect, but it had Heiji’s heart rabbiting faster either way.

“It’s considered a bad idea to take a walk at twilight,” the kitsune said. It crouched over Heiji, its face close enough that Heiji could have touched it if he wanted to. Which considering it meant it was closer in the off chance the demon wanted to rip his throat out, Heiji really would have preferred it further away.

“Y’don’t say,” Heiji said weakly.  He inched back as far as he could with his leg trapped.

“Yes,” the kitsune said conversationally, “you end to see things that’s best left to the imagination.”

“Y’know, I don’t usually imagine corpses. Not without bein’ able to catch who killed ‘em.”

“A bit of a detective, hmm?” The kitsune makes a sound that kind of sounds like a laugh. “Then you’ll sleep easier knowing the demon you found earlier had a death sentence for eating children.”

Heiji’s eyes widened. That whip at the demon’s waist was made of some kind of vine. Hoo boy. He used plants. Heiji was in a fricking forest. If a vine whip could disembowel someone, he hated to know what the guy could do with a tree. “Y’know, not sure if that helps or not,” Heiji admitted.

“He’ll get a trial in the afterlife if that helps.”

Yeeeeah, still not making the murder better. After this Heiji was going to start carrying a sword. Or something. Something that let him feel a little less helpless in this sort of situation. Cary ofuda charms even. Hell, if Kazuha could make omamori that worked, maybe she would have a talent with demon repelling and he should just drag her along if anything gave him the heebie jeebies like he was getting now. Like spiders running up his spine as predatory gold eyes seemed to pick him apart.

For a demon killer, there wasn’t a speck of blood on him. He didn’t smell like blood or death either. If anything he smelled like roses, and wasn’t that a head trip. Heiji couldn’t get any further back or flatter to the ground. He realized there was one kind of kitsune mythos he hadn’t thought of earlier. He swallowed hard as silver hair slid along the hollow of his throat. Gold eyes remained amused right up until Heiji couldn’t see them clearly anymore because his eyes were crossing.

“Detective,” the kitsune said, now all but covering Heiji’s body with his own.

“Yeah?” Heiji squeaked.

“Be more careful what you charge into.”

There was a press of lips against his own, the sensation of fangs hidden behind them, and the world spun out of focus. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was a gravelly voice and the kitsune’s responding laughter.

*

“Was that really necessary?” Hiei said.

Kurama laughed. “No, but it was pretty fun.” He let Yoko drain away back into his regular human body. The teenager beneath him was unconscious, knocked out by a toxin Kurama had coated his lips with. He could have taken the ‘innocent human’ approach and knocked the teenager out while he was caught off guard, but it had been infinitely more amusing to pull a prank instead. Kurama was feeling a bit whimsical today; it was nice to be out of the city and surrounded by an old growth forest.

“You shouldn’t have had to catch him in the first place,” Hiei said. “You’re getting sloppy.”

Kurama shrugged. “You were the one who was supposed to dispose of the body.”

“Why burn it if you can feed it to your plants?” Hiei’s eyes flicked away from Kurama’s smirk. He’d probably let the human stumble upon the body in the first place. He resettled his gaze on the teenager in question. “Should we kill him too?”

“Hiei,” Kurama said drily, “that would only lead to more time on our sentences.” He stood, brushing bits of leaf mold off his clothing. “He handled running into a demon pretty well.”

Hiei snorted. “If you call being scared witless handling it well.”

“There was no screaming,” Kurama pointed out. “Not when he saw the body and not when I came out of the trees. I wonder if he’s run into demons before?”

“He has to have some ability if he could tell what you were,” Hiei said. “Am I wiping his memory or are you?”

“Your methods are more precise,” Kurama said.

“Lazy fox.”

Kurama stood aside and let Hiei at it.

“Hmm,” Hiei muttered as he reached out. “He’s got a luck charm on him.”

“Strong?”

“Strong for an amateur,” Hiei said. He put a hand on the teenager’s head. Behind its wrappings, the Jagan eye opened and glowed violet. “All done. He won’t remember anything.”

“I’ll take him to his campsite, you take care of the body?” Kurama suggested.

“Fine, but you have to do the report to Koenma.”

“Fair enough.”

*

Heiji woke with a bad enough headache that he wondered if he’d raided his dad’s liquor stash again. He was face down on his sleeping bag with no recollection of how he’d gotten there. He could have sworn he’d gone for a walk…

Ugh, next time he felt like escaping the world for a bit he’d escape a little less. Maybe bring someone along. Like Kazuha. That seemed like a really good idea for some reason. He had the strangest feeling he should apologize to her about something. He rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head to block out the sunlight glowing through the tent walls. He’d get up when his head stopped throbbing.

(Later Heiji found some alarming photos on his phone and felt very glad to be alive and even more terrified at his memory gap. He was never going to say a bad word toward superstitions again and he totally owed Kazuha an apology. And maybe a gift because her luck charm seemed to have pulled another miracle.)