I definately do not own Gakuen Heaven, because do you ever see Koji propose to Takuto? I thought not...
Unearthed Pain
382 words
Iwai Takuto was bleeding again. He didn't mean to this time, but the knife mixing his new paints had slipped, and nicked his left wrist ever so slightly. However, as soon as the crimson liquid dribbled down his slender under wrist to stain his Academy shirt, it was too late. He found himself digging the paint knife deeper and longer to create a huge gash that traversed the entire underside of his wrist. It felt good; the stinging pain…paint mixing with his own DNA…it was as if he was finally becoming what he dreamed of in his food-deprived mind; a vivid and still painting on the canvas of life.
He must have cried out without realizing, for as soon as his consciousness began to slip, he was there…the one person that saved him every time from utter destruction. Shinomiya Koji, the Dorm Leader, had heard the noise while making the routine nightly rounds and had found Iwai sprawled on the floor, bleeding profusely from his left wrist.
Waking a few hours later in the infirmary, Iwai looked around to find his rescuer. Slumped in the chair asleep was the visage of the Archery Captain, eyes circled with blue from worry and sleep deprivation. Unwelcome tears stung the corners of Iwai's eyes, and before he could honestly think of what to do he was calling out to Shinomiya, faintly.
"Hmm…oh! Takuto, you're awake…how are you feeling?"
"Better…"
"I'm glad, but please, don't ever do that again." The Dorm Leader's strong hands gripped Iwai's right hand almost in prayer, betraying just how worried the older man was at the artist's decline. A small smile spread across Iwai's face before he could suppress it, which elicited a soft chuckle from Shinomiya.
Some unspoken confession must have passed between them, for in the next moment Shinomiya stood from the bedside chair and had closed the distance between the two to lock Iwai's lips in a soft and undemanding kiss. Iwai's eyes widened, but then closed in enjoyment. This unintentionally unearthed pain had seemingly unearthed something else along the way for the quiet artist and stoic archer that fateful night in the Academy's infirmary. It had opened the door for romance, and both had walked through together, one strong archer's hand holding another, delicate and bandaged.