Something I wrote a while ago, edited, and decided to post on my account. I've been neglecting it lately. (It's already fact that I write nearly every day.)

This was inspired by a screenshot I found in epi. 20. It just hit me, like D: and I was all like, why didn't this occur to me earlier? So yeah. It's fairly short (the reason why I didn't post it anyway) and I'm probably not going to post another one like it. Or so.

Apparently, Tamaki's more than a bag of flowery words and tendency to dramatize everything he notices.

Warnings: Almost none. Slight hints of TamaTwins (fluff), if you're squeamish. It shouldn't be too bad. Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran or else the twins would've gotten more screentime.


Tamaki... doesn't really know what possessed him that day.

The day he met the twins was a rather solemn day indeed. He had tried and failed to convince Kyouya to come along so to raise the chances of them joining the host club, but instead he was pushed away and told curtly that the twins obviously in the courtyard and that he should just go before they run away.

Like they still do now.

They were already there, one of them holding an envelope delicately, the other leaning inconspiciously against the tree. So he slid behind the corner, listening, listening, eavesdropping, no-- looking after his underclassmen and--

tearHis eyes widened and he peered over at them quietly. The poor girl was crying, the shredded remains of the love letter falling from one of the twin's hands.

Hands.

He watched in silence as they walked away, a natural careless jaunt in their pace, backs turned from the rejected.

He decided, as he offered her a thornless rose and tucked a coffee strand behind her ear, that he's going to do something about it.

The next day, he met the twins, said hello as politely as he was taught, and told them apart... or tried to.

They simply stared at him, long and hard, before laughing cynically and telling him to try again. Their eyes flashed, as they turned away, hidden words floating between them. He felt a sharp gaze linger on him, his violet snapping up just in time to miss his eyes.

Eyes.

Tamaki... doesn't really know what possessed him back then.

But now that he looks at them, there's an obvious difference; a difference he never saw until he thinks back to that day.

Maybe he was scared, maybe he just didn't expect to see such similar twins.The same yet different. Like all the rumors, and gossip, and Kyouya said.

He still can't tell them apart today.

But he knows their difference.

Kaoru's the softer-spoken one, the one who hides his smiles and smirks behind his psychology books and overanalyzes, cross-references, cross-multiplies, cross-cancels, thinks too much (including the exact amount and exact maintanence that they needed to buy a penthouse with). Hikaru's the open one, the one who expresses his words through waves of movement and his boredom through zig-zags, squiggles, straight, curving scribbles, everything (including the desire to attain chocolate chip cookies and nip every little piece out of his mouth).

He can't believe he never saw it before, that whenever they're bored, Kaoru reads, Hikaru scribbles, because Kaoru's mind needs to work, and Hikaru's hands need to move.

Maybe it was the shock and mind overload. Or it was simply double-vision.

But he has always known how to tell them apart.

He just never has.