Okay, this one's even more pointless than the last. There may be a plot in here, but don't hurt yourself looking for it. I spent a few weeks trying to cure insomnia by writing fluff. It worked surprisingly well, but produced little good writing. Oh well.
Oh, and I own nothing. Yuu Yuu Hakusho and its characters belong to someone else. No, wait! The tie is mine. I have no clue just what Terylene is, but it seems to be indestuctible.
Kurama sighed. Another day, another tiny sacrifice to the Ningenkai. Sometimes he hated his life.
He entered his apartment, removing his shoes and jacket at the door, and headed towards the bedroom. Gods, what a terrible day. I lose my good tie, end up late for work, miss lunch, have an exhausting day, after which it snows. At least Yukina-san will be happy . . . Mind, she's always happy. His thoughts trailed off.
It seemed he had company. Silent, irritable, violent company, yes, but also warm, lovable, gorgeous company. Very gorgeous. Things just got a lot better.
"Hello, Hiei. It's nice to see you." Kurama smiled like, well, a fox.
The fire demon sat at the window, silent, watching the snowy city. He turned his head and nodded a greeting.
"So, have you come for a while, or just to visit? It's snowing, so you could stay, if you like."
"A while." Hiei approached the grinning fox, looking skeptically at his suit. He picked at the necktie. "What's this for?"
"It's a tie, Hiei," Kurama sighed, then choked slightly as the object in question tugged. "Humans wear them as a sort of . . . submission to society." He got a wicked almost-grin as Hiei flashed a bit of fang. Gods, I've created a monster.
"A tie, hn?" Hiei turned the offensive garment over to look at the back. "Terylene?"
"A synthetic material. It was the only one I could find . . ." He paused. Hiei looked . . . pensive. Uh, oh. "Hiei? Why are you looking at me like that? What are you thinking?"
Hiei advanced, removing the necktie. "Nothing much."
"Why don't I believe you? Hiei? HIEI? Hiei..."
Hn. This 'terylene' stuff is pretty strong, and there's that little symbol that mean's it's washable. I wonder if it would work for wards?
Kurama sighed. Another day, another piece of the Makai won. Sometimes he loved his life . . .