𝐢'𝐦 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐱 !

(っ◔◡◔)っ  "𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞                                                              𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫." 🔥

….Right. He sometimes forgot that Shunsuke also had demonic senses & hearing as well. Stupid of him. Kazama supposed it was due to his tendency to be around feeble humans about 90% of his time. He hadn’t been in the presence of another demon in what felt like eons. Much less someone on the same equal footing as Kazama.

Even at the admonishing, Kazama couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his expression; it wasn’t mocking, nor derogatory. Truly, Shunsuke was the only one that dared talk to Kazama in such a way & could get away with it unscathed. Anyone else would’ve lost their tongue by now.

“Why brother, I’ve no idea what you’re on about,” he tails off, then lets out a little clicking of his tongue, not wanting to actually upset Shunsuke or anything, “very well. I shall try, but you have got to stop him from trying to feed me, Shun. I can only pretend to eat those dreadful meals so many times.”

That cane slides the papers around a bit, not actually moving away from the desk. “& don’t get me started on tea, ugh. Well. Are you going to move your ass, or are you going to force me to drag you.”

                       "If you’re going to take from him what he believes so ardently is practically his sole function, then find something else for him to do.” He replies evenly, “Like it or not, eating is something you need to do to fit in because manners are always under scrutiny. As for tea,” He reaches for his own cup and saucer, off to the side away from the now disheveled pile on his desk and the cane of chaos creating it, “You get used to it.”

He heard the tray clattering against the wall despite having rounded the corner of the hallway, demonic senses, gotta love them. Ignoring it, figuring that the stupid welp had gone and tripped in a way of trying to chase after him. Well good, he didn’t want or need to be tailed by him. Oliver wasn’t privy to the conversations that Kazama and Shunsuke had. Those were for their ears only.

He wouldn’t let anyone else interrupt that.

Kazama found his way simply to Shunsuke’s study, and very brazenly opened up the door and walked in, as though the study were his own and not Shunsuke’s.

“Up.” he says it so, not forcefully, but with confidence, that cane coming down to gently yet decisively tap on the papers that Shunsuke was reading, sliding them a tad away from Shunsuke, “enough of that reading, it’s a fine day outside. Best use our legs before they’re feeble and old.”

                        There’s not even a flinch as the door to his study opens, no acknowledgement at all as he sits in the plush chair behind his rather ornate mahogany desk (the finest, naturally), reading some of the most tedious paperwork known to man. The House of Lords was full of self absorbed, audacious prats who liked to listen to themselves talk more often than anything. Well, not as much as they liked to read their own words, actually. The document was a longwinded pile of drivel, a recommendation to lower taxes on exports and supplementing the loss by taking it out of the pay of the poor dock workers. Justifying it saying that so long as the workers wanted to work that the change in income would hardly matter.

                        It was the third proposal this week. He was sick of it.

Kazama moves to catch the small plushie before it hits the ground, as though not wanting him to come to harm. Of course, Kazama is also swiftly standing, turning and playfully chucking that stuffed plush at His Stupid Big Forehead.

“As if I would want to smell your stench.” Safer to say if Kazama did actually try and suss out that scent, he might be liable to cry all over again. As it is, Kazama huffs stubbornly, but smiles, and wipes away those tears,

“And? Did you find me to bemuse yourself with the statue? That bored?”

Dares not get closer. Hells knew how many ‘envelopes’ the bastard had on him.

                         The plushie, an object of his own making, vanishes with another puff of smoke midair and so he does not even flinch at the throw. He stands tall, an odd sort of dignified air to his posture that is not present in any version of himself before. Though that dignified attitude seems to match perfectly well with the familiar smugness he exuded without any effort whatsoever.

                         “I happen to smell of vanillin and musk right now, so I have no idea what stench you’re talking about.” He replied cheekily, “It’s all the rage, though, if I remember right, the market on men’s cologne won’t be tapped until a few decades from now...” He looks contemplative for a moment, before shaking the thought off. There was time to ruminate on that later.

                        “But actually. I didn’t find you. You found me. As I said, you’re astronomically early. You shouldn’t be here right now, Kaz. I assume the error will be corrected momentarily...” He answers, reaching down to adjust the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, as though they were talking about something mundane instead of the strangeness of time travel. “Though, I wouldn’t necessarily say I was bored. We keep busy enough.”

It’s that SOUND which seems to tip Kazama off, milliseconds before he realizes. The added weight that forces himself into the sidewalk, comically so. Had he not the reflexes to swiftly catch himself, he may have face planted directly into the asphalt.

He’s on his knees now, arms strained from being forced under the weight of that statue. His eyes flick over that familiar sight, and it clicks in his mind. Slotting into place.

Oddly, there’s no anger. No, instead there are tears in Kazama’s eyes, and a low strained laughter that can’t fully form because of that aching wont to cry that Kazama can’t begin to understand,

“You Bastard,” no malice, a fondness and that pain causes his words to crack, breathed.

                          He bows upon receiving his recognition, a knowing smirk etched into his expression.

                          “The one and the same.” There’s a fond sort of mirth to his tone as he straightens again, standing tall with confidence as though those two words bolstered him somehow. This moment, though improvised and probably something he’ll be chastised for later, is important to him too.

                          He snaps his fingers and the weight gone with another POP! And instead in the place of the jizo statue falls a small plushie figure of himself, when he was much, much younger and more recognizable. 

That brief contact of the man’s hands brushing away his own, caused Kazama to still; to freeze. That ache got worse, in some respects. Which only caused his own irritation to grow. The sound of his voice both soothed yet grated on Kazama’s ears (to say nothing of his heart). Red eyes flick downward at the way the man moves, eyes acutely aware of every single movement being made, both on edge yet dangerously curious.

Staring at the offered envelope. Wax seal that’s not of this country; England, then? Hm. He hadn’t been there in ages.

“…Very well.” a showing of trust. Kazama takes the envelope, gingerly.

Wait, a leaf…?

                          It’s less than a second after both of Kazama’s hands make contact with the paper that he sees it. The spark of something in his expression. Recognition, perhaps. Well, if he needed anything more to remind him, he was going to get it right then.

                          There’s a familiar POP! and puff of smoke before a very, very heavy weight would pull his old friend toward the ground by his hands. And once the smoke cleared, there would be an even more familiar jizo statue with a piece of parchment stuck to its head face to face with him.

                          And Shunsuke? Well, he was a safe distance away all of the sudden. His chipper grin even more amused now. “All these years and it never ceases to amaze me that I can still get you with that old trick.”

Tch. Frustrating. Not knowing, yet feeling this ache in his chest. It translated, that fear, as always, into anger. Rage. Lashing out. Demanding to know despite probably being better off. (Some part of him fears leaving, as though they might never cross paths again.) Kazama’s reaching out to grab the green eyed man by the scuff of his jacket front. “Try me.”

                          He really shouldn’t find this reaction as amusing as he does. After all, if anyone knows what Kazama is capable of, it’s him. After seemingly ages of keeping tabs on him, one would think he would know better than to provoke the technically older (was he really still? Time travel was so complicated) demon who had thought it appropriate to grab him by the front of his jacket.

                          Perhaps it was a sign of how much he’d assimilated to the time he had found himself in, that he reacted in such a way, dismissively brushing the hands away from his outfit with an amused but also clearly annoyed “Fine, fine, here, take this.”

                          He reached into his lapel, producing a singular burgundy envelope with a wax seal in the shape of a leaf and offering it to Kazama. “Once this is in your hands, it will reveal everything you need to know.”

rules: make a new post listing the letters of your url and share a song starting with each one. then, tag as many people as your url has letters

K — kids - mgmt  I — idol - bts T — that that - psy feat bts suga S — somebody else - the 1975 X — x gon’ give it to ya - dmx N — numb - linkin park E — electric love - børns B — bloody mary - lady gaga I — i’m so hot - momoland

                      “No worries, it’s Yamada. Yamada Shunsuke.” Shunsuke gave her a boyish smile that he hoped wasn’t too reminiscent of how he looked when he was younger. He had wanted to appear pretty similar if not just because he liked how he looked but he hadn’t want to make it obvious. After all, he wasn’t trying to interfere with her life. He was just there to keep an eye on her.

                      But at the same time... Damn, it had been a long time since he’d gotten to talk to Kagome. To say he’d missed her would be an understatement.