Chapter Text
Hitachiin Hikaru and Kaoru were bored out of their minds.
They had been behaving – remarkably so, by their standards – but even their patience had limits.
Tonight was an especially important event for their mother. Her presence as one of the exhibition's main designers meant everything had to go flawlessly. She was counting on them to do their part.
Unfortunately, it seemed the rest of the Host Club was not built for the quiet restraint of the exhibition either.
Tamaki had declared their attendance “a show of unwavering devotion." Kyoya had muttered something about valuable connections. Haruhi, Morinozuka, and Haninozuka had simply accepted their fate.
And so they stood scattered strategically throughout the gallery, dressed impeccably and behaving far better than usual. Tamaki lingered near one installation, offering overly bright smiles and compliments to the techniques of the flustered artist. Kyoya was speaking quietly with one of the event coordinators, complimenting on the simplicity of the night. The others drifted with the crowd from display to display, showing genuine interest as they listened attentively to the creators describe their pieces.
However, the twins stood where their mother had left them, positioned neatly beside her work like part of the display itself.
Hikaru shifted his weight for what felt like the hundredth time, resisting the urge to slump against the pedestal behind him. Kaoru had taken to conversing with lingering guests, nodding politely as they praised their mother’s craftsmanship.
It was, Hikaru thought, painfully dull.
After all, the crowd was mostly adults, draped in gowns and tailored suits, discussing matters that didn’t interest them in the slightest. The air smelled faintly of varnish, perfume, and the catered hors d’oeuvres that had long since lost their appeal.
Hikaru rested his arm against his brother's shoulder as they both watched the room. “What a snoozefest,” he murmured, his half-lidded gaze lazily drifting across the hall.
Kaoru leaned back against him, grinning softly. “Wow, such enthusiasm. I'm impressed.”
“I’m saving it for something exciting." Hikaru waved a hand dismissively, nearly knocking into a passing guest who pretended not to notice.
Even among the club members, the twins noticed subtle signs of boredom. A surprisingly rare instance considering how eccentric they tended to be.
The evening had settled into a predictable rhythm, blurred into a monotony of polite conversations and shifting clusters of guests.
It was in the middle of that sameness that Hikaru noticed you.
You weren’t part of any conversation. You moved along the edges of the room, pausing briefly at each installation before moving on, a camera with practiced ease. Every adjustment was deliberately precise, like you were waiting for the perfect moment no one else could see. You didn’t command attention, but somehow you held it anyway.
His gaze followed you without meaning to. Kaoru mirrored him, curiosity flickering across his expression.
You lowered the camera and stepped back into the flow of the crowd as effortlessly as you'd appeared, letting the soft murmur of conversations carry you along.
A woman caught sight of you from across the room and offered a brief, knowing smile. She gestured towards the twins, subtly opening a path for you.
You allowed yourself to drift toward her, stepping into the space she’d cleared.
“Hitachiin brothers, you two look wonderful tonight. May I?” she asked, her gaze flicking between them as she gestured.
A photo.
Hikaru didn’t hesitate. He leaned into Kaoru automatically, their shoulders brushing as they slipped into the roles they’d played countless times. Their expression matched perfectly, an effortless, charming smile gracing their faces.
The woman stepped aside, giving a quiet nod toward you.
You moved forward and raised the camera. The soft click of the shutter came once you had found the perfect angle.
For a heartbeat, your eyes lifted from behind the viewfinder. It was a brief acknowledgement, a quiet signal that you were fully aware of them…and they of you.
Then the moment dissolved. You didn’t linger after taking the photo, didn't hover in the way most people did. Instead, you simply thanked them and continued, pausing at the next installation with the same quiet attentiveness you’d shown before.
Hikaru’s gaze followed you long after you’d turned your back.
Kaoru’s lips curved. “You’re staring.”
Hikaru didn’t look away. “No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
He scoffed. “...Shut up.”
Kaoru’s soft laugh blended into the ambient noise of the gallery, but his attention stayed on you as well. Hikaru finally tore his gaze away, but the image of you lingered stubbornly.
Even Tamaki noticed, muttering under his breath, “Such magnetism…” though Kyoya’s unimpressed glance quickly shut him up.
Eventually, you settled on a small bench tucked near one of the installations. You set your camera carefully beside you and let yourself exhale for the first time since entering the gallery. Now that you were sitting, the exhaustion crept in. The warm lights hummed softly overhead, casting dim reflections across the floor. The air felt quieter, as if the noise of the event had finally softened enough for you to breathe.
You hadn’t expected to feel the weight of the evening settle in your shoulders, but here it was.
“Finally,” Kaoru started, stepping out from behind his brother. “I was beginning to think you’d vanish before we could talk.”
Before you could register what was happening, Hikaru appeared at the edge of the bench, while Kaoru took the seat on the opposite side, their expressions effortlessly charming.
“Taking a break?” Hikaru murmured, eyes glinting with amusement.
You glanced up, startled for just a moment. “Oh–uh, yeah,” you said, letting your shoulders slump. “Just…observing.”
Kaoru eased a little closer, resting an elbow on the back of the bench. “Observing,” he echoed. “That's what you call it when you're trying not to fall asleep?”
You huffed a quiet laugh. “Maybe. This room’s…a lot.”
Hikaru nodded slightly. “It’s not easy in a place like this. Trust me, we know.”
“That bad?” you asked, raising a brow. You leaned back against the bench, surprised at how easy it felt to talk to them.
Kaoru snorted. “You said it, not us.”
You shook your head, brows furrowing. “I didn’t say anything.”
Kaoru’s smile softened, the teasing easing just a fraction. “I think you’ve caught our attention,” he said, almost offhandedly, though the weight behind it was certain.
Hikaru scoffed lightly, but his eyes betrayed him – he was watching you closely, studying every small shift in your expression. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he teased.
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Too late. I think it already has.”
Before either twin could respond, a familiar voice cut through the soft hum of the gallery. “Ah. There you are.”
Your father approached, dressed sharply and posture composed, eyes warm when they landed on you. The twins straightened.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, offering the twins a polite nod before turning his attention back to you. “They’re ready for your review. The lighting teams want your approval before they finalise the setup.
Hikaru blinked. Kaoru’s brows raised. Approval?
You rose from the bench, brushing your hands lightly against your clothes. “Right. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Your father’s expression softened. “Take your time. They won’t start without you.”
He gave the twins one last courteous nod before stepping away, disappearing into the crowd with the same quiet authority he’d arrived with.
You picked up your camera, offering them a small, apologetic smile. “Duty calls.”
You hesitated for a second. “I’ll see you guys later.”
You slipped into the crowd, the strap of your camera settling across your shoulders as you disappeared between the cluster of guests.
For a moment, neither twin spoke, remaining rooted where you’d left them. The space around the bench felt strangely empty now, as if your absence had pulled something out of the air with you.
Hikaru watched the spot where you’d vanished, his expression unreadable except for the faintest crease forming between his brows.
Kaoru exhaled softly, almost amused. “Huh.”
Hikaru didn’t respond.
Kaoru bumped his shoulder. “Don’t pretend you’re not curious.”
“I’m not pretending,” he said, the gaze not yet leaving the crowd.
They stood there for a moment longer, Hikaru’s gaze fixed on the crowd while Kaoru watched him, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“There you two are.”
Their mother approached with an easy smile, pausing when she reached them. “I wasn’t expecting you to wander.”
Her gaze shifted between them, narrowing slightly as she tried to place which was which.
“Hikaru?” She guessed.
Neither of them corrected her. Kaoru smiled. Hikaru gave a small shrug. They had long since stopped bothering.
She huffed softly, half amused. “Or Kaoru. I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Her expression softened. “You’ve both been wonderful tonight. Thank you.”
She had barely finished smoothing a hand over Kaoru’s sleeve when another voice chimed in from behind her.
“Excuse me – Hitachiin family?”
A photographer hurried over, camera already raised, eyes bright with the thrill of capturing something exclusive. “Would you mind if I got a photo of the three of you together? It would make a lovely addition to the event’s archive.”
Yuzuha’s expression warmed. “Of course.”
Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged a glance before stepping into place on either side of her. They slipped into practiced postures, expressions softening into the polite smile they’d perfected over years of being seen.
The photographer adjusted his lens. “Perfect, perfect…just hold still for me.”
The shutter clicked several times. Their mother looked radiant, elegant – the picture of composure. The twins looked perfect, too. They always did.
But the moment the photographer lowered his camera and thanked them, both boys relaxed, their smiles faded into something almost flat.
Kaoru let out a soft exhale. “Not the same.”
Hikaru didn’t bother pretending. “Not even close.”
Their mother gave them a puzzled look but didn’t press. She simply patted Hikaru’s arm, offered Kaoru a fond smile, and drifted back to chatter with friends.
Somewhere across the room, you were already slipping into your next task, unaware of the attention you’d left in your wake.
The twins weren't looking at the art anymore.
They were looking for you.