Iwai didn't waste any time in doing what his step father had set him, and as soon as he was dressed, he was scrounging around his dorm room for any spare canvas' and paint, he could use his own supplies first and then when he ran out he would have to buy some more. He sighed in his usual glum manor, out of all the people that attending bell liberty; he had to be the one with the least amount of money. Not that anyone else knew about it. He had just put all the stuff he was going to use on his bed when he heard a knock on the door.
"Great, I don't really need this but, great", Iwai sighed manoeuvring his way through all of his scattered possessions that lay all over his floor.
It was Shinomiya. If Iwai hadn't been lacking iron he would be blushing, he had always respected (who was he kidding) fancied him, but never thought to do anything about it. He glanced over his masculine body and compared it to his own wilted looking body and decided, with a heavy heart, that Shinomiya deserved better than what he could ever offer him.
"Morning Takuto." He smiled in his usual cheerful smile. "Listen, I was heading down to have breakfast, you coming?" Iwai sighed, he always asks but it was never usually an option, he'd just take Iwai despite the moaning. But he didn't have time for this today. 100 paintings was simply too much for the set amount of time. Maybe he could get away with using slightly smaller canvases, but knowing his father, he wouldn't.
"Takuto?" Shinomiya's voice came back into focus. He must have spaced out. "You coming?" Shinomiya held out his hand and gestured towards the door. It hurt him inside but Iwai took a step back.
"I'm really busy today. I'll get something later." he know Shinomiya didn't believe him but he honestly couldn't care less, and anyway, why would he want to have breakfast with scum like himself. Iwai needed to get this over with; otherwise he really would know about his filthy secret. Iwai shuddered inside. No, that could never happen.
"I'm sorry." He went over to pick up his easel, paints and a blank canvas that had been leaning against one of his cluttered walls. He was sure that he had time to do most of one this morning before class started. His father wanted any old thing as long as it looked professional. It wouldn't take too long, as long if it was a simple beauty. With a feeling of guilt deep in his gut, Iwai pushed past Shinomiya, who still hadn't moved for his place in the artist's doorway.
"Lock the door when you decide to leave." Iwai said sullenly, with a little more anger than necessary. He just hoped that Shinomiya could tell that the anger in his voice was not directed at him, but at his whole situation. He would hate to think he had hurt him. As he made his way to the garden outside the dorms; his shoulders hunched the whole way. As he sat down in one of the park benches to paint Iwai suddenly felt quite nervous. The teachers here were very nice, always telling him that you couldn't fail art. But Iwai knew that his father thought otherwise, one slip and it was destined for the incinerator.
As he finally set the paintbrush to the canvas he swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat. He hoped to hell that he got this right.
Meanwhile in the cafeteria, Shinomiya sat at a small table alone, wondering how his usual cheerful breakfast for two, somehow tuned into a solitary activity. Was it something he said? He remembered the state of Iwai's room and it did look as though he was busy…but what for? From what he could remember of Iwai's schedule, there wasn't any art comps, exams or festivals anytime soon. And even if there were, Iwai always breezed through them, with time to help others with their pieces. Shinomiya played with his eggs, watching the yolk spill over from the puncture he had made. Fragile. The word seemed to echo through his mind, until all he could think about was how brittle Iwai really was. He would just have to pull him aside between classes and slip him something, like a muesli bar, for him to eat. Of course, he would have to stand there and watch him eat it too. Whilst Iwai never threw away food, he had a knack for giving it to other people or hiding it somewhere. Now that he had some more purpose to his day, Shinomiya ate his eggs a little too quickly to be considered healthy and gathered his things. Iwai would understand if he interrupted his day, besides, the poor boy would surely be starving by the time he got to him. He smiled, yes; Iwai would be grateful and in turn it would make Shinomiya happy. He liked being wanted.
What he didn't understand is that, right now, Iwai didn't want him at all. But maybe…he did need him.