Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Kleptomaniacal (Or: Pyrite) ❯ Kleptomaniacal ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: This author does not (and never has) claimed any part of Yu Yu Hakusho, although she does severely wish that Togashi would just give up his rights to Kurama and give them to her. Which, unfortunately, will never happen.

Kleptomaniacal [Or: Pyrite]

It started with a stone. Nothing precious, not really. It was just… sparkly.

It was pyrite. Fool's gold. And it had belonged to someone else.

Huge golden orbs had followed the path of the stone as it arced through the air and back into its owner's hand. The person tossing it was talking, but the boy paid no attention to him whatsoever. No, the pyrite had captured the curious boy's attention. The way that it caught the light of the sun was just utterly entrancing.

The owner of the stone was older. A demon, huge and hulking for someone only just nearing the tender age of fifteen.

But he was small, lithe, and smart for his age of four-and-one-half-years.

He timed it perfectly. Just as the stone stopped its ascent and was beginning its trip down, the boy stepped forward and jumped, elevating himself just enough to snatch it right out of the air before the older boy could catch it.

Then he sped away as fast as he could, barely hearing the cries of, "That's mine, you stupid fox!" The blood rushed in his veins, and a heady feeling made its way into his mind. There was the fear that the bigger boy would give chase and kill the younger one off, and that fear lurked at the very forefront of his mind. He urged himself to run faster.

The older boy just stood there, a bit surprised, but overall more humored. He began to shake his head, quivering with laughter.

"If he'd just asked, I'd've given it to him. Stupid fox." Then he bent down and picked up another chunk of the Fool's Gold.

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When the younger boy finally plopped down onto the fairly wet grass, he was out of breath, pouring with sweat, and fairly exhausted. Blood dripped from where he'd clutched the pyrite a little too tightly.

The golden sparkles in the stone were still visible, though. And the boy was entranced. The way that it just caught the rays of light and scattered them…

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For some reason, after that day, he just kept noticing the beauty of certain things, not only shiny things, though they were in the majority. Soon enough, there was a silver necklace belonging to some elderly demoness, a length of fiery red-orange cloth, and a bottle of water so pure and blue and pretty that the boy just couldn't help taking it from the merchant.

And the rush that stealing things gave him…!

He was in control. He was taking what he wanted. He'd been able to elude every chaser that had come after him. It had become a sort of game for him: I'll take something, and you chase me. And we'll see who wins.

It became a monthly endeavor. And then it became weekly. And then every other day. And then, before he knew it, he was addicted.

Suddenly, shiny things were no longer part of the majority. Everything was part of the majority. Day by day, the chases grew shorter, for he could elude just about any foe he came up against. Day by day, his collection of worthless treasure grew. Day by day, he grew more and more wanted by authorities, on rather meaningless charges of petty theft. Day by day, he grew older, and slyer, too. Day by day, he learned more of the secrets to breaking spells, seals, locks, and other security measures. And day by day, he grew hungrier.

Not in the literal sense. Rather, it was a hunger for… something more exciting. Not that the rush of stealing wasn't satisfying enough. No, it wasn't that. It was just that maybe...

Maybe it was getting too easy. He wanted a challenge. He wanted that rush to be intensified. By about a thousand. He wanted his heart to pound with excitement. He wanted a tiny drip of fear to seep into his mind. He wanted to be exhilarated by the chase.

And he wanted to satisfy his hunger for much, much cooler items than a length of cloth.

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He'd finally found something to satisfy his insatiable craving. A magical item held in the rather powerful grip of a rather large demon in a rather huge mansion.

He was able to slip past the useless guards, all of whom had drunk themselves senseless on gallons upon gallons upon gallons of hard liquor. He was able to figure out which room the item was held in. He was able to make the ivy crawling up the walls of the mansion twist to his will, helping him to climb up to the walls without much effort on his part.

But here was the tricky part. The demon was actually sleeping with an arm around the chest containing the treasure. The chest had multiple locks on it.

But the boy, now reaching adolescence, had a brainstorm. And boy, was it brilliant.

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Vicious guards: he'd eluded them. Vicious demon guards: eluded those, too. Vicious demon guards with incredibly terrible hangovers: now that had been a new experience. But he'd eluded them as well. Vicious demon guards with incredibly terrible hangovers and FEROCIOUS animals: …damn. Eluded them, but to the cost of a rip in his clothing. Yet, in spite of the near-death experience…

He was exhilarated. He had his treasure, and he was just figuring out how to unlock the numerous bolts and locks on the box. Finally, the last bolt gave, and he stared into the box, his eyes feasting on what was now his.

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The powerful demon roared in frustration. How in HELL had someone been able to evade his impeccable security system?! He had sent the guards to their death, that much he knew, by making them chase that shadow thief. No doubt he would have to search for their bodies in the morning.

Another growl of utter frustration escaped the demon's throat as he once again studied what had been written on the floor, in ivy no less.

With love from Yoko Kurama, Spirit Fox.

The demon tore the message into pieces. A lot of them.

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His name was being uttered by every one. It was more than just exhilarating, it was… glorious. Truly, utterly, and appallingly glorious. He was gathering a band of followers and building up his empire.

He would be unstoppable.

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Suichi Minamino, alias Yoko Kurama, sighed inaudibly as he lowered himself into a desk at school, wondering how on earth he'd become such a damn kleptomaniac back in the day.

And he cursed the day the gods had decided to create pyrite.

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Author's Notes: `Kay, the last two lines were sort-of non-sequiturs for this story, but I've gotta add a dash of humor somewhere, right? I don't know why on earth I suddenly decided to create this story, other than the fact that I'm half-way psycho and one of my favorite words is `kleptomaniac'. I know that Yoko didn't start to steal until a certain amount of years had passed, something like 50 or 100, but I thought it was a kind-of cute idea.

Oh, and will you please review? Please? Please-please-please?