Art is a Language

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I was sorta pissed. The entire host club was sitting around me, drawing something. Well except Kyoya, he was standing a while away, writing in his note book. I told them all it was easier to draw still life to begin with, to get a better feel on proportion. The only one who listened was Haruhi and Kaori.

I walled around in the circle looking at each of their works, I perpousfully avoided the twins. "Isane," Kaori called me over for the hundredth time. "How would I draw this?" She pointed to the bit on the flower she was drawing.

"Trail and error," I shrugged. She continuously wanted me to tell her how to do certain parts. She looked at me with pleading eyes. I sighed, and burriedy face in my hand.

I sat down next to her, finding myself between her and Hikaru, who reacted to my presences. "Let's stop with this," I sighed, flipping the page of her sketch book. "What do you want to draw?" I asked, looking at her.

"Something that would make my dad proud," she told me.

"Well it seems to me you want to draw exactly like me," I pointed out, "There hasn't been a part of this Iris you haven't asked me to draw."

"I like your style," she mumbled, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Well, its my style," I reminded her, "no matter how hard you try you won't get it exactly. So how about trying to master my style, master your own."

"I just want to make my dad proud of me," she said, getting angry, " I showed him a picture of one of your drawings, and he wouldn't stop complimenting it for days. I want him to be that proud of me as he was of that drawing."

"Kaori," I sighed, reaching to put my arm on her shoulder. "You're dad's probably proud of you! You're a honor student! You don't know what it's like to not have your father not want people to know about you!" The entirety of the host club stopped drawing, and was stiff. They saw me and my dad fighting. I waa also told I started speaking Japanese at some point.

"Actually I don't know what it's like to have my fathers approval," I was angry, but I refused to show it. I was not going to show it again. "I never had it. When I was young I hid who I was in hopes of getting it. I was miserable just wanting him to call me his child, but he never did. When I finally gave up he full on cursed me out of his heart. I've never been happier since I did that." she was watching me in horror. "Kaori, don't make yours miserable. You dad is not like mine, be yourself and draw. I didn't start with my own style, I copyed many styles, until they all joined together to make my own. If you want to add my style to what will adventually become yours, I would be externally greatful. But you can't steal my style."

I got up to get something for her. "Instead of taking pictures of the terrible sketches Kyoya steels, use this."  I handed her my sketch book, I hadn't filled it up yet, it was still from the year before. I only had a couple pages, so I could live with moving on to a new sketchbook. "Just return it sooner or later." I gave her a smile, which she blushed at yet again.

"Thanks, Isane-senpai," she said with a forced giggle, "I think I'm done for today though." She picked up her stuff and started to walk away. Flipping through my sketchbook.

"You didn't have anything personal in there did you?" Kyoya questioned me.

"Only my heart and soul," I joked. It was sorta true though. My art reflected my feelings, and she would probably realize that soon too. We all started heading back to the club room.

"We should do this more often," Tamaki declared. I was walking in the middle of he group, next to Haruhi, I front of the twins and behind the theid years. I could feel a dark aura leaking from behind me. I could only assume why, but I'm sure I knew why.  They both reached out of grabbed one of my writsts. The others continued to walk, leaving us three alone.

I turned around nervously to be greeted by the same stoic look on their faces. "Isane," they said in unison. "We both told you." They knew about each other's feelings. They probably agreed on when each was going to tell me, maybe. It was just a guess.

"Can you tell us," Hikaru asked, "Which one you like." I didn't know how to answer. They were sorta in the same place for me. Good friend and possible love interests.

"We can both bare it if you like the other," Kaoru told me, "So just tell us." My breathing started to become labored. I didn't want anything to change. I liked it the way it was. Part of me didn't even want Tamaki and Haruhi to get together even though I also desperately wanted it. Was it wrong for me to not want anything else to change. J already accepted Honey and Mori going to college. Everything else would change. Can't the host club just stay they same?

I didn't notice it, but I started cry. "What if I can't bare it?" I asked them, "Haven't you ever fully thought about how I would feel. Haven't you talk to Haruhi, i....I," I ran. I didn't want anything about them to change.

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The twins entered the club room. The only member missing was Isane. Everyone assumed they were with the twins. "Where's Isane?" Haruhi questioned. She had become more anxious with Isane since she learned about her health.

"She went home," Hikaru answers, as he picked up his bag. The door opened one more time. Standing in the door was the first year. Kaori was close to crying, or just got done crying.

"Where's Isane?" she repeated the question of the hour.

"They left," Kyoya answered, "Why do you want to know?"

"I think they need help," she said, being up the sketchbook. "His most recent drawing are so dark, like he's having a fight with himself. I don't think I know him well enough to help, but maybe you could."

"What do you mean?" Kaoru asked. Thinking they had just did the opposite of what needed. She opened up to a couple drawings which were extremely dark. One was a limp doll being controlled like a puppet. It had a slight resemblance to Isane. Another was a singular eye which lacked a pupil, with was crying as a knife was held above it. The final one was a skeleton, which was sitting on it's own, wearing a mask  of a normal person.

The hosts could only assume what they could mean. They had seen her drawings before. There was always a dark edge knt hem, but wasn't too noticeable. There was usual oveeshadowed by childishness. But these were full on dark and horrific.

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