Hikaru was not having a crisis.

Absolutely not.

He was just... sweating. A lot. For no reason. Because it was hot. In October. Indoors. With the AC on.

“Kaoru,” he hissed between clenched teeth, elbowing his twin. “Tell me again he’s not cute.”

Kaoru blinked at him. “You mean Haruhi’s brother?”

“Don’t say it like that!” Hikaru barked, then cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah. That guy. The one who’s always dropping stuff and apologizing like we threatened his dog.”

Kaoru raised an eyebrow. “The one you followed into the library ‘by accident’ three times this week?”

“It was a very confusing hallway,” Hikaru muttered, tugging at his collar. “Could happen to anyone.”

Kaoru smirked, dangerous. “You like him.”

“I don’t!”

“You do.”

“I’m not gay!”

Kaoru shrugged. “No one said you were.”

There was a beat.

Then Hikaru groaned, collapsing face-first onto the couch of Music Room #3 like a tragic Victorian widow. “Why is he so... nervous and polite? It’s infuriating. He bows to vending machines.”

“That’s just good manners,” Kaoru offered.

“I made him tea and he said thank you like I cured his dog’s cancer!”

“...You do realize this is exactly how you acted when you liked Haruhi?”

“No!” Hikaru snapped, sitting up. “With Haruhi it was different. It was real. It was romantic. It was—”

“—also filled with denial, tantrums, and you yelling ‘I’m not gay’ every ten minutes,” Kaoru pointed out.

“I’m not yelling that every ten minutes!”

A dramatic pause.

“...Am I?”

Kaoru nodded solemnly. “Every. Ten. Minutes.”

Hikaru groaned again, this time louder. “I am not doing this again. I’m not catching feelings for another adorable, socially awkward, walking disaster with soft eyes and tragic hair.”

Kaoru smirked. “But you already did.”

There was a long silence. Hikaru stared at the ceiling, dead-eyed. You just entered the room looking for your sister while you only saw the dramatic scene.

“...Do you think he likes cake?”