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Living for decades longer than a normal human lifespan is kind of a pain in the ass, Yusuke discovers. Time starts to blur together after a while when you’re among demons who have little use for such small measurements as years. He can’t believe Kurama’s been able to keep his shit together for centuries. He hasn’t mentioned it, though, because he knows he’ll get a spiel about how there are so many things to experience in life and blah blah, whatever. Kurama can sit in libraries and travel around learning different languages all he wants, but Yusuke is not about that life right now.
He’s been gone from the human world for a long time, and it feels like a good time to go back. He doesn’t figure much has changed. The technology will be different—he already saw the rapid advance of cell phones and computers and artificial intelligence—but people don’t change that fast. There’ll still be a boatload of assholes picking on the weak and unassuming, and a handful of people trying to do something about it, and a lot of the rest just trying to get by and maybe create a little positive influence in the world.
Kurama is out there already, so Yusuke visits him for a while to get reacquainted with whatever the hell humanity is up to. He strikes out on his own once he’s got a fake history and documents and enough knowledge to blend in, or at least not to stand out too badly. He doesn’t need to be picked up by the police for acting like somebody’s grandpa who forgot how to scan his transport pass.
He’s been playing at his new life for a few months when he first sees the guy. The hair is so eerily similar that Yusuke has to do a triple-take; that exact shade of vivid orange-red is still rare here in Japan. It’s not the jelly-roll style Kuwabara had worn as a teenager, but more like the close-cropped cut he’d kept as an adult to look professional. He’s got the same long, lanky body and the same long face with small, sharp features. Not identical, but close enough that it makes his chest ache.
He tails the guy for a while, wary in case he’s got Kuwabara’s sixth sense, and follows him to a kinda shitty apartment building. He makes a note of where it is and heads home to call Kurama.
“My dealings with the spirit realm have been much more limited than others,” he reminds Yusuke. “I suppose reincarnation is a possibility, but I haven’t ever asked about it.”
“It’s gotta be him.”
“Be careful, Yusuke, and keep me apprised of the situation.”
The next time Yusuke sees this maybe-Kuwabara, he’s feeding stray cats behind the convenience store where Yusuke likes to buy his lunch.
The time after that, he’s three rows in front of Yusuke at an outdoor concert for something loud.
The time after that, he’s breathing hard and staring at Yusuke over the unconscious figures of the six guys who’d tried to jump him on his way home from work.
“Nice right hook,” Yusuke says, flashing him a sharp grin.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” maybe-probably-Kuwabara asks. “Have we met before?”
“Not exactly. I’m new in town, maybe you’ve seen me around a couple of times.”
Maybe-probably-definitely-Kuwabara keeps alternating between looking at Yusuke and his own right pinky finger. “Maybe so. How the hell did you learn to fight like that?”
“It’s a long story, if you’ve got the time.”
After they’ve called the police to pick up the thugs, Yusuke buys him a drink and laughs loudly when it turns out he’s Kuwahara Kazuki now. Someone up there is definitely fucking with them.
They talk for a long time at the bar, Yusuke telling half-truths that Kuwahara already seems to understand. They trade contact info when they split up for the night, with promises to meet again soon. And maybe Yusuke’s just imagining it, but he swears he feels a little tug on his right pinky when he walks away. He smiles to himself. If that’s the way fate wants to play it this go-round, that’s fine. Yusuke’s got the time.