Disclaimer: Don't own Ouran, don't even ask.

A/n: well, I wrote this in math a while ago, just got around to typing it... hope you guys like it.

This fic is yaoi/shonen-ai which means guyxguy, don't read if you don't like it.

Growing Up

I'd always thought that I knew him. The man I love. My twin; everything was perfect for the two of us—until she came. When Tamaki-dono asked us to help him form the host club, we were so happy. They thought that our "brotherly love" act was, well, and act. It was far from that. We loved each other; more than two brothers ever could... or should. If we didn't, why were we still sharing a queen sized bed at the age of 16, when our parents have given us separate rooms since we were 3?

Then, a certain commoner joined the club, ruining everything. Fujioka Haruhi. Sure she was nice... most of the hosts had probably fallen in love with her some time or another. But no matter what happened, our "act" was still more important, especially when we weren't in front of a thousand squealing fan girls.

Though it didn't seem like that anymore, we still belonged in our own little universe; we could have entire conversations just by exchanging glances, switching our clothes and flipping our hair to a different side daily, never changing. We looked like we didn't want others to figure out which of us was Hikaru and which was Kaoru, but secretly, we wanted someone to see us for who we really were; two separate people. Hikaru and Kaoru, not "the Hitachiin Twins" or "the Twins".

We were actually really different. Subtle, but different. Hikaru was taller; he was built bigger, more muscled. I was smaller, slight; you could say that I was brainy, and my older brother was athletic. I was into the arts, language, music, different languages. Hikaru liked science, math and of course, phys Ed. Soccer, basketball, hockey—we made every team that we had tried out for. We always made sure we were in the same classes, always inseparable.

But then she came, and somehow, none of that mattered anymore. She noticed every little thing about us. She could tell the difference between us so quickly that it was almost scary. But Hikaru, my aniki, he just celebrated and embraced the fact that someone could love one of us because of who we were, not just because we were an amazingly attractive pair of twins that she could choose from.

They started flirting, and eventually going out... She was everything my brother could talk about when we were alone, she was everything he had ever wanted, besides me... not that it seemed to matter anymore. Because of her, the once inseparable twins slowly tore apart, becoming two people in two very different worlds. I still loved him, but he didn't care about me anymore. In his world, there were still two people, but it was him and Haruhi; in mine, there were two, me and the ghost of my beloved twin brother.

He asked if I wanted to go to a movie with the two of them a few times, but he was basically telling me to tag along and watch them make out... I said no each time, the only logical answer. I never really figure out why he asked in the first place, since he obviously didn't want me to come. Was he guilty that he had left our little universe without as much as a goodbye? That he moved on in life while I was left, alone, standing exactly where he had left me? Probably not.

Our "brotherly love" act at the host club weakened, it became nothing more than what it was supposed to be, an act. After a while, I couldn't bear it anymore, I quit the host club. The rest of the members only came to ask me about why a few times; they left me alone once they figure that they wouldn't get an answer from me. It didn't matter; Hikaru was the charming twin anyways. He was the one who could impress the girls more, and in Kyoya-senpai's case, made more money.

After quitting the club, I distanced myself from Hikaru as much as I could—not that he really noticed. I dropped out of some classes I didn't really like and immersed myself in other subjects. I took French, Spanish, Latin and Italian, on top of the advanced English classes I had already. I started European history again, after quitting 2 years ago.

At first, my teachers were confused on why I was in all those classes without my brother, but the questions soon stopped. I never answered them, but the pain reflecting in my eyes probably told them enough. All that was forgotten; they soon discovered that I was a much better student when I wasn't goofing off with my twin. I had become the top in all my classes so quickly, maybe I'd actually be able to let myself become a different person... one that didn't depend on my brother so much.

--

Our parents didn't notice much, not until I asked them to sign the registration forms for 3 boarding schools; one in France, Spain and Italy. I was hoping I'd be accepted into the one in Italy, but it had the highest standards out of the three. I liked Italian, it flowed off your tongue so smoothly, and it was such a musical language. Either way, I was pretty confident that my essay was very well written. On top of that, I could finally get away from him... maybe I would finally grow up there.

But strangely, what hurt the most was that he never noticed... not when I hanging out with our group of friends, not when I moved myself away from him in all the classes we still shared... it was like he has chosen to disappear from my life... just like I has hoping I could by going to study in Europe.

He wasn't there when I celebrated with my new friends after I got my acceptance letter to the school in Italy... I wonder if he knew that his twin brother was only at Ouran Academy for the rest of the year, 6 months till the once inseparable twins were going to different schools. Where was he when I needed him the most? My aniki... my lover... Hikaru.

I don't know what happened that day, I can't remember much from it. All I remember is that I walked into his room to tell him that dinner was ready, and saw him on top of her... There wasn't much after that--I kept myself together until the end of dinner, and after... I only remembered two things after that; a bottle of vodka, and a pocketknife.

Next thing I knew, I woke up staring at a blank, white ceiling; the intensive care at the hospital near our house. Okaa-san, sitting beside my bed with tears in her eyes. Apparently Hikaru and Haruhi had gone out for a walk after dinner, Outo-san was still in Osaka on another business trip, so only my mother knew about this. Looking into her eyes, I fought back tears as well; for the first time in what appeared to be forever, it seemed like someone actually understood what I was going through.

Still, 2 months later, 4 long months till I left for Italy, I cut myself on a shard of broken glass when I dropped a vase I was moving. Staring at the deep, crimson liquid running down my hand, I was entranced. It was amazing how physical the pain was, so unlike the deep gash my brother had left inside of me.

I wasn't wrapped up in my own misery, the pain on the surface made me realize that I had been going through my days in a daze, not really paying attention to much. I could blame these tears on the cuts on my skin, cutting into my flesh, instead of the raw wounds on my heart.

Even though it was only for a few, short moments, each time; I became addicted to the pain; it brought me back to real life. The scars were hidden under long sleeve shirts and wristbands I had from tennis and other things. I always had a penknife in my pocket; not that I would cut anywhere other than in my house. The piece of sharp metal pressed against my thigh somehow gave me comfort.

He still never noticed anything different though; I rarely looked him in the eye, and it seemed like ages since we've had a real conversation. The one I needed the most, the one that I wanted to care about me was the most clueless...

Amazingly, someone did notice, or notice enough to care, anyways. I didn't really care about what she thought; my ever caring mother, maybe she actually understood me more than I had imagined. Too bad it didn't matter, not anymore. She walked into the bathroom right when I was bringing the blade to my wrist, half empty bottle of vodka on the counter.

What probably surprised me the most was her reaction; I had expected her to explode into a rage or something... and drag me off to a shrink. Her chestnut eyes just filled with tears; she didn't take her eyes off mine. Wrapping me into a gentle hug, she lifted the knife from my hand and just... cried. After a while, I awkwardly held her back... not moving, just letting her.

I've only seen my mother cry once, when our grandmother died. And now, this second time... it was because of me. I didn't want to see her hurt anymore, especially not because her son was a retard who was hopelessly in love with his twin brother...

I stopped cutting after she saw me, I didn't want to hurt her more than I already had. I started packing early; one suitcase. I was planning on only packing what I needed until I had settled. Money wasn't a problem, I had enough to last me a long time in my bank accounts, and my parents would still send money. When I got there, I wanted to forget everything I was leaving behind.

--

He walked in on my packing that time. My twin just looked around the room, neat and tidy, unlike when we had shared a room. He looked at me, amber eyes showing none of the emotions behind them, "so I'm guessing it's true?" He asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. "You never told me you were leaving..." and walked out, closing the door gently behind him.

Of course, he didn't hear my reply; I made sure of that. As his footsteps faded down the hallway, I said what I should have told him when he was still standing there. He didn't need to know the reason why I didn't tell him.

My family, amazingly, was together the day I left. Okaa-san, close to tears, Outo-san, looking proud as any normal father could be when his son gets into a good school without monetary influence. Neither of them said it, but I'm quite sure they were glad that we were finally separating; to them, their twin boys had finally grown up. It was true, in a way... except it hurt like hell to admit. And Hikaru, aniki; looking exactly like he always did, looking like he never changed; in the end, only I had. I was the different one now, and all I could do about it was watch him stand there, face devoid of emotions.

Father wrapped me into a hug for the first time in years, saying how proud of me he was. Mother sniffled and told me how much she would miss me, I'd miss her even more when I got there; she's the one I had a close bond to. I kissed her goodbye, telling them I loved them didn't seem like it was enough; to me, they deserved more than that. But Hikaru was still here, he'd take care of our parents. After a while, the two of them left to wait in the car, leaving the two of us alone, together.

We stood there, not saying anything. I guess saying it was awkward could have put it lightly. After what seemed to be an eternity, he finally broke the silence.

"So I guess this is it, ne? You're leaving and not coming back." He spoke softly, as if he didn't want anyone except me to hear.

"I suppose... I never said I wasn't coming back though; just maybe not for a while." I tried to smile, but he didn't return it.

"That's the thing," his eyes softened as he walked up to me and hugged me; it'd been too long since I had felt those strong, muscled arms around me. "You're running away." He whispered as I pulled back to look into his eyes.

"I'm not," I turned around, out of his arms; walking towards the gate, "I'm just growing up." I looked back at him one last time, turned back, and didn't look back again. It was like I was in a trance, I was still moving towards where I was supposed to be, but I wasn't consciously aware of my surroundings. It wasn't until I was seated on the plane, staring out the window, that I realized just how much I was leaving behind me.

May or may not write a sequel. Either way, it'd be a different story since it wouldn't flow with this; stay updated for information!