There are moments in your life both big and small that shape you for good or bad. And not all are instantly recognized, as with us the big ones that seemed to shape us the most, that maid that tricked us, Tamaki guessing right, Haruhi being able to tell us apart. All were earth shattering moments that struck us through the instant they happened. But there were also small almost unnoticeable moments that change us in a much more subtle way.

It retrospect in seems they were a string of smaller moments that led to a bigger revelation. It started innocently enough, long before the maid, Tamaki or Haruhi ever came into our lives it was the two of us, me and my brother. We loved to explore our grand home, since we were our only playmates it's what we liked to do. Little was denied of us and our parents were always busy so we had free range to go wherever we wanted. We were allowed in every room except one, our mother's studio. Perhaps it was that were told not to go there or maybe it was the sheer mystery of it but we became obsessed with getting into there.

By chance, when our mother was away on a business trip, we got a hold of the key from a careless maid. We didn't go in right away; even then we were devious masterminds. We knew couldn't go in too soon for fear of alerting suspicion. The maid was fired and our mother returned from her trip. It was a few months before she left again, then we pounced.

Our hands trembled with excitement as we turned the key in the lock, opening it with a smooth click. Together we pushed open the large wooden door. We were instantly blinded by bright sunlight pouring in from two huge windows. The colors were what imprinted onto our minds most vividly, in that room was every color imaginable and more. With a respect we gave nothing before, we entered the room, small hands reverently touch a bolt of silk, a swatch of suede, a half made garment in a fine cotton. We knew then what our mother did, she made magic.

For a while after that we hid away the key, though we longed to go back there to bask in the colors and the light. To feel the fabrics and touch the magic of that room but we waited. Without saying it we'd both decided we wanted to learn more, a lot more. Years passed, we studied late at night, and we practiced on inferior garments honing our sewing skills. Mom was almost never home during that time, she'd launched a couple lines that kept her very busy. It was nothing new, we understood.

Finally the day came; years of plotting had come to fruition. Mom was out of town yet again. We only had a couple days to complete it but we were determined. We returned to that magical room. The lock hadn't been changed in all these years, not that it mattered, by then we'd already mastered picking every kind of lock.

Once again we entered the room with a rare reverence we gave nothing else. We chose our fabrics, we'd perfect our design, and then we set to work. We still remember those days and late nights as the sun set beneath the horizon sending an orange glow over the multicolored racks, the hum of the sewing machine beneath our fingers, and carelessly pricked fingers as we finished a hem or attached a sleeve.

Finally we had one day left to complete it before our mother returned home from her business trip, one day and then back into hiding, planning out next garment and the next, until we truly had the talent to show our mother. We left our creation on one of the dummies in the room and reluctantly switched off the lights.

We awoke eagerly the next morning; it was a Sunday so we'd have the entire day to finish our creation. We remember the eager smile on our faces as we slipped down the halls like two stealthy cats. We slid the key in the lock and the door slid open as it always did. The room was the same, bright tapestry of color and light. But today was different; someone had beaten us to the room that day.

There our mother stood, staring down at our first creation. Brow furrowed chewing her lips slightly. Our breath caught as she turned to us.

"Did you boys make this?" her tone and expression were unreadable.

I look at my brother and he looked at me, we both nodded.

The widest smile we'd ever seen on our mother's lit up her features, "I took you long enough!" she teased, "You stole that key nearly ten years ago. I was wondering when I'd come in and find in the middle of the room surrounded by strips of fabric."

"What you knew?" we demanded in unison.

"Of course I knew. I'm your mother." And then she hugged us and pulled away smiling said, "It's rather impressive actually. I'm proud of you boys, you really are destined for greatness."

She pulled away and left us with a feeling of mingled pride and pure joy.

"You're free to use the studio whenever you want, all you had to is ask." She offered over her shoulder.

It wasn't until then that we realized this was one of those moments that change you. This was a moment when you realize your destiny and reach out and grab it.

A/N: I was rereading some of the earlier installments of this collection and I thought it might need something a little cheerier. So there you go.