|[fic] Honey My Love So Sweet OMAKE, Shinomiya/Iwai
||[Jun. 25th, 2006|03:57 am]
Here we go... the omake, as promised!|
This is still almost totally lyntek's
sin brainchild :D
The fact was, Shinomiya took on a lot of the maintenance work at the men's dormitory at BL Academy, because it was his way of staying in shape. When asked how he got such strong arms, he would answer that archery training and housework were usually enough.
There was no doubt that he was going to be the dorm head next year, when Shinomiya was a senior. But even before that he was already being entrusted with important tasks that otherwise, nobody else wanted to do.
"SHINOMIYA-SENPA~I," came the familiar cry, and it took all of Shinomiya's self-control to not fling the heavy laundry basket he was holding toward the source of the cry on impulse.
Alarming (tall, blond, buff) things usually didn't assault him like this.
"Shinomiya-senpai, I'm glad I found you!" said the sweaty freshman bundle of joy. "See, I was looking for my Honey, and -"
"What makes you think I know where he is?"
Taken aback by the interruption, the freshman paused. "Er... I assumed? Since you're always together and everything..."
"I'm just with him to keep annoying people away," was the stern reply. "Incidentally, Naruse, didn't I tell you to stop following him around and calling him Honey?"
The intimidation tactic seemed to be working. It wasn't that Naruse was an easy person to intimidate, but Shinomiya only had to be his stoic self to scare off the strong-hearted. "Yes... well, you did, but I'm uh..." He scratched his head. Shinomiya's eyes narrowed.
"You don't remember his name, do you."
"Of course I remember his name!" Naruse protested, with a toss of his hair. "But you know, he needs no other name but Honey!"
Shinomiya sighed. Naruse wasn't a brat, but anyone could tell that the attention he tended to shower upon his latest "Honey" was not always welcome. Sadly, his latest Honey also seemed to be incapable of turning Naruse away all on his own.
He didn't mean to be anyone's protector. But when the circumstances warranted it, someone had to do the dirty work.
"Well, Iwai's not here. And I haven't seen him all day. You may want to try the Art Club."
"Thanks, senpai!" the blond freshman said, and blew him a kiss just as he was turning to sprint off. Shinomiya really would have thrown the basket at him just for that.
But instead, he nonchalantly hitched the basket up higher. At least that was one problem down.
The rooftop of the men's dorm was Shinomiya's favorite place to hang out. Incidentally, that was also the place where the laundry was hung out to dry.
And on that day, it was also the place where Iwai Takuto was hiding from the rest of the world. Shinomiya let him stay there to paint or draw whenever he asked, even if it was laundry day, because it was certainly better than letting him stay in his room alone, or leaving him to wander the grounds unsupervised.
Iwai Takuto had so far proven to be a huge responsibility for Shinomiya - one he hadn't counted on having when he signed up in BL Academy. More than once he'd caught the talented young artist in a state of utter confusion or depression, and when that happened he knew the best thing to do was not to stick him in a white jacket and then into a padded room, but to keep the younger boy in sight.
But when Shinomiya opened the door to the rooftop, he saw something he didn't expect - not quite a suicide attempt, but something almost as emo: tall, thin, haunted Iwai Takuto standing in one corner, facing the open sky, ripping his own watercolors on paper to shreds.
And before Shinomiya's eyes, he cast the pieces of paper in his hands out into the wind.
"Stop!" Shinomiya cried, before he could help himself. Shocked by his presence, Iwai turned toward him suddenly... but he had already thrown away the pieces of his work.
Suddenly - and it seemed, at Shinomiya's command - the wind changed direction. The pieces of paper Iwai had hoped to get rid of were being blown back into the rooftop - all of them. In his rush, Shinomiya gracelessly dropped his basket of laundry. The contents spilled out thoroughly onto the damp, grimy floor of the deck.
But that wasn't what mattered. Many bits of paper were fluttering onto the freshly-washed sheets, or else to the puddles underneath them, and even if Shinomiya even tried to gather some of the pieces before they hit the ground, he wouldn't be able to get them all.
"What's the matter with you?!" he snapped at Iwai, who cringed automatically. "You made these!" He held out what he had in his hands - pieces of crumpled paper that looked like they may have been flower petals, once.
"They weren't any good," Iwai said quietly, shrinking back as if afraid he was going to get struck. "I wish you hadn't bothered..."
What else do you wish for? My fist on your head? But Shinomiya kept his temper in check. Iwai had his reasons for not thinking clearly, sometimes. That was why he kept the younger boy close after all, right?
"You dropped your..." Iwai was already striding toward the fallen basket near the door. When he got to it, he immediately set about gathering the sheets and stuffing them back in.
"I'm sorry," he was saying, "I'm really sorry. You worked hard on these. I'll help you wash them again."
Perhaps out of hunger, perhaps out of remorse, Iwai's hands were shaking... he could hardly hold on to the sheets, and some would slip right out of the basket again impertinently. The first thing Shinomiya did when he rushed to Iwai's side was to take the long manic fingers in his own.
Yes, Iwai was a huge responsibility... but he also had a gift, one that was Shinomiya's duty to protect.
"Takuto, don't bother," he said softly now. He didn't mean to be anyone's protector. But when the wind blew in his direction, he was genetically unable to pretend that it didn't. "You'll hurt your hands."