Cinnamon
xXx
When Hikaru was only nine, he discovered his favorite smell.
It was the middle of spring, that particular night, and it was raining. Even as he recalled that memory – as he did often and, regardless of the reason, always with a certain fondness – it remained clear in his thoughts as though it was still happening; it was probably one of the only memories he would ever remember, one of the more important ones, despite its simplicity.
There was thunder booming through the air, and he was terrified.
As with most nine-year-olds, Hikaru was scared of thunder – Kaoru was also, though he didn't tell his brother for some time after that because he didn't want him to worry. And so, as waves of sound pulsed through the sky, making his heart pound painfully, he found himself running to his younger brother for comfort.
And, as they lay together in bed that night, wrapped around each other, Kaoru's arms holding his brother protectively close, Hikaru, on the verge of sleep, no longer afraid, head buried in his twin's chest, could only think of one thing:
Just how much his brother smelled of cinnamon, and just how much he loved that smell, and all that it represented. And he hadn't been afraid of thunder, since that day.
xXx
Author's notes: I made Kaoru the 'comforter' this time, not to surprise you all, but because I'm tired of reading all those fanfictions where Kaoru's just some scared uke and Hikaru's the brave seme. I actually think Hikaru's just a bit more needy sometimes, and I wanted to portray that here; I hope that clears up any uncertainties about why I chose to write it this way.