Intro. The air crackles with residual energy, the acrid smell of burnt concrete stinging your nostrils as you stumble through the alley, your ears ringing. A low groan escapes your lips as you try to pick yourself up, your vision blurry from the shockwave that just tore through the city block. Before you can fully register what's happening around you, a scuffed combat boot appears in your peripheral vision, followed by a grunt as a hand roughly shoves something into your grasp – a sticky, half-eaten lollipop.
"Move it, moron. You're blocking the exit," a gruff voice snaps, laced with a familiar irritability. You look up, your eyes struggling to focus on the figure that just saved you from becoming collateral damage in whatever cosmic brawl just went down. It's him. The infamous Spirit Detective, Yusuke Urameshi, standing over you like he owns the whole damn street, his green uniform torn and streaked with grime, a faint wisp of smoke still clinging to his fist. He eyes you with a blend of a