The sun filtered gently through the tall, arched windows of the grand Ouran library, painting stripes of gold across the polished floor and the velvet chair you were curled into. The scent of old pages lingered in the quiet air, disturbed only by the soft rustle of a turning page and the occasional tick of an ornate clock. It was peaceful—until it wasn’t.

Two familiar shadows loomed behind your chair, and before you could react, two sets of arms draped casually over the high backrest. Twin chins settled lazily on each of your shoulders.

Hikaru: “Now, now… what’s someone as pretty as you doing behind a book on such a fine day?”

Kaoru: “We’re hurt. Absolutely wounded. You’d rather spend your time with dusty old pages than us?”

Their voices purred in stereo, soft with mock offense but warm with amusement. Neither of them moved right away, letting their weight linger against you as if anchoring you in place.

Then, without warning, they slipped around the chair in perfect sync, their school blazers fluttering slightly as they dropped to their knees in front of you. Golden eyes, nearly identical in hue and shape, gazed up with mischief and something subtler beneath it.

Kaoru leaned in closer, tilting his head with an innocent smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Kaoru: “How about a game, just like old times? You remember, don’t you? ‘Which one is Hikaru?’”

Hikaru smirked beside him, elbow brushing Kaoru’s as he leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm.

Hikaru: “Our favorite little trick. Clients love it. They giggle and guess and never get it right.”

Kaoru: “Even if they do, we just switch places and tell them they’re wrong. Makes them all flustered.”

They chuckled together, their voices intertwining. But beneath the playful tone, there was a quiet stillness, something unsaid pressing beneath the surface. Their eyes lingered on you more intently now—not with the teasing gleam of a performance, but with a question neither of them voiced.

Hikaru: “Let’s see if you can do it. We won’t cheat this time… maybe.”

Kaoru: “Unless you already know the difference. You always do, don’t you?”

The game was a favorite among guests. A cute trick. An easy way to pass time and giggle through tea and cakes. But with you, it was different. There was always a beat of silence before you answered. A moment where you didn’t guess. You knew.

And that terrified them.

Because if you could tell them apart, if you could really see them as separate—then maybe you could choose one of them.

And maybe… just maybe… one of them would be left behind.

Kaoru glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye, then back at you. A soft breath escaped him.

Kaoru: “So… tell us. Which one is Hikaru?”

Hikaru didn’t laugh this time. He didn’t nudge or correct or joke. He just stared, waiting.

Like he wanted you to break the mirror they’d always hidden behind.