Disclaimers: These characters are owned by Yoshihiro Togashi.

Summary: Hiei walks in on Kurama in the middle of something, and for the life of him, doesn't know what to do.

The Body Sometimes Knows What the Brain Does Not
a.k.a. "Let the Body Set the Flow" (because that music somehow remotely inspired this)

He lands with just a shift of wind, soundless and like a shadow.

The room is dark, but he knows, senses, that Kurama is just there on the bed, doing what, is what Hiei is trying to figure out. He spots the glistening drops on long lashes before the usual shock of bright red that he was accustomed to see.

And as usual, he doesn't know what to do. His uncertainty nails his feet to the windowsill. He is disconcerted by the tears, but he was even more unhinged by the thought that he was so disturbed by this sight so as to be indecisive.

So Hiei does what he usually would in situations like these – wait for the redhead to make things better, even if it appeared as if it were Kurama who needed some help. The koorime didn't need to wait long, it seemed, "I wonder why tears taste salty."

This was Hiei's signal, so he blurs to stand just slightly off the redhead's front, and tries to appear like he didn't care. (Which he didn't. Really.) The half-youko continues his monologue, "I mean, there's probably a biological explanation, but knowing what we know, I wonder why they were made this way."

"I wouldn't know."
Don't know why. Don't even know what they taste like.

Kurama smiles gently, understandingly. The movement of his cheekbones makes them glimmer.

And Hiei, still not knowing what to do, allows his body to solve the problem for him. His right hand's fingers alight behind Kurama's ear and his lips glide gently down the other's cheek, tracing the path made by the tears. He stops, then murmurs against the redhead's cheek, "They aren't so salty."

Kurama exhales a small laugh.

-end-

Sometimes, unrelated things make problems better. (And I don't usually write like this) -25c