The plane ride to Korea was short, but tiring. Kaoru had been up all night designing a set for a last-minute comission overseas for which, normally, he would have declined. But as Hikaru was off in Switzerland for a class trip with the rest of the students in the programming department, the boredom was eating away at Kaoru's mind and he had, admittedly insanely, accepted. He rationalized it by saying that it wouldn't hurt to do a bit of networking for his family's Korean branch, either.

Ms. Wang is waiting for him as he steps off the plane. They met at a gala last May, but they haven't had a chance to do any business together until now.

"Ah, Mr. Hitachiin." She greets him with accented English, and he notes her somewhat eccentric getup. "The boys are waiting for us at the venue. Please come with me."

.

They're pressed for time so there are no introductions, and Kaoru is sent straight to work on the boys. He doesn't quite know where to place them in his head. They're definitely not from his class, but they're not exactly commoner either. Except for the last one- He can smell the commoner coming off of him in waves.

He's different, somehow, from the others...

"I want you to do the clothes first." a voice interrupts his train of thought. "I'll do their faces, and then we can finish with hair..."

.

It's subtle at first, but Kaoru has always been perceptive. That last one... his mannerisms, his reactions - they're all wrong. But it isn't until a few hours into makeup that his suspicions are solidified.

"Minam! Minam! Do you want this apple?" Ruffling of the hair.

"Don't be silly, he wants juice." A touch on the shoulder.

"Leave him alone, can't you tell he's busy?" A sidelong glance.

Kaoru can't understand what they're saying, but he can see- The way their eyes search for him, how how they try to win favor when the others aren't watching.

He's seen this all before, he thinks.

Then the cold, aloof one walks over to berate him (her?), and she gets this look in her eyes...

His heart goes out to them, as he runs a straightener through the tall one's hair. Because they're too childish, too delayed, and he can see exactly where their paths are headed. He wonders if they know this, like he did when it was him. And he wonders if, in the end, they'll look back, too, and ask the same question.

"Did we ever even have a chance?"