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This year is exceptionally cold. Although I'm from Chiba where it's typically a few degrees colder than it is here in Shizuoka, I honestly don't think I've ever experienced temperatures below freezing point in the daytime like this. Now, as the sun is finishing its descent below the horizon, it feels even colder. We must have global warming to thank for these record lows. It has me thinking that those working to help the environment are heroes in their own right!
"Urgh…" To my right, a grunt steals me away from those thoughts. I turn to see my boyfriend pressing his mitten-clad hand over his left eye insistently.
"What's wrong, Shoto?"
"It just… bites and stings," he answers a bit petulantly, shifting slightly to face me as we walk, trying to see me with his unobstructed eye. The small pout on those thin shapely lips makes me want to kiss him, but there are more pressing matters.
"Your skin? Does it hurt?" I can't help feeling worried. I've touched his scar many times before with his permission and expressed reassurance that it didn't hurt, but it felt so fragile. He's told me how the scald gave him an extreme second degree burn. While there was no use using grafts, the remaining skin will always remain a dry, dark pink.
"It's just… sensitive to the sharp wind. I'm normally fine thanks to my quirk, but I'll create a flame if I get any warmer than this."
I hum while unconsciously scanning our surroundings. It's true that here, in a very busy shopping district just before the holidays, it would be ill-advised to go around in public using a fire quirk. Thinking of a way to relieve him from his ache, my eyes lay on a quaint little store that's modestly decorated with soft lights, looking warm and inviting. "Hey, how about we check this place out?"
Even with a hand covered in blue knit wool concealing half of his face, Shoto is stunningly handsome as he peeks under his bangs towards the shop I'm pointing at. His grey eye looks back at me and he nods a bit awkwardly with his mitten in the way. Cute.
I grab hold of his free hand and pull him along, reaching out to open the door and let him get inside first, wanting to get him warm as soon as possible. He finally uncovers his eye, slowly walking on old creaking floors in the small space. He silently takes in the many wares displayed among innumerable wooden shelves and desk displays. To the untrained eye he might seem nonchalant, but I can tell that his interest is piqued by the distinct twinkle in his eye.
This traditional Japanese pottery shop looks quite dated and radiates a certain warmth I can't quite describe with words. It smells earthy and homey. It's crowded with well-worn shelves filled with bowls and tea cups, with barely enough space to walk between those and the tables displaying countless styles of plates. Some pieces have very intricate designs while others are kept simple and purposely imperfect. I have to admit I don't know the first thing about dinnerware, so I feel I'm not appreciating its beauty as much as my mesmerized boyfriend does while he carefully runs his fingers on a few pieces.
"Welcome," an aged voice resounds as the presumed shop owner makes her way out of the back area. She's wiping dirty hands on an equally dirty apron wrapped around her waist, grey and muddy with clay.
"Hm…" I'm surprised to hear Shoto readily speak up, "Have you made all these?"
"Yes, are you looking for something in particular?"
"No, I simply think they're all pretty," Shoto's voice is so steady and monotone, his awe might not be conveyed fully, so I decide to step in.
"There are so many different designs, all with unique beauty! I don't know anything about pottery, but I think it must take skill!"
"Ah, it's nothing much… You know, I give classes, if you young boys are interested?"
I look over and see those gorgeous heterochromatic eyes growing wider, twinkles becoming outright sparkles. Such excitement is a very rare and endearing sight, so there's no way I would refuse. We had planned for a movie date, but if he'd rather learn how to shape clay instead, this is what we'll do. Anything to make him happy.
"That sounds fun," I answer while grinning at my boyfriend, before turning to the lady, "Would you have time tonight or do we need to reserve in advance?"
"Right now's great! I got clay on the turntable and everything, come on in!"
The lady enthusiastically motions us toward the back room. While her back is turned, Shoto sneaks a kiss to my cheek in thanks, then quickly makes his way over like nothing happened, like he's shy even though no one else is here to see. Cute.
I'm a genius for suggesting this shop.
Awed by all the equipment, Shoto seems to be a bit too reserved to be the first to try it out, so I bite the bullet and sit on the small stool that squeaks under my weight. I'm told to use a pedal, to wet my hands, to feel the clay and try to shape it.
Damn, it's way more difficult than I ever thought it would be. Sometimes the material feels too stiff, sometimes it gets too soft and the slightest movement misshapes the whole thing and it's simply too hard to reshape without turning it into a ball again first. But seeing my boyfriend's corner smile when I mess up makes it all worth it, and I have fun. I end up with the wobbliest tea cup slash bowl, but he claims liking the shape because the two higher dips reminds him of my hair, which makes me grin from ear to ear. He can be so sappy sometimes.
Once it's his turn, Shoto's posture goes surprisingly stiff, frowning in concentration as the shop owner tries to teach him. He's hesitant, slow and careful, barely molding the clay like he's scared of destroying it.
After five minutes spent giving him instructions, the sound of the shop's door calls the lady away to the storefront and leaves the two of us alone with the whirring sound of the turning table.
"Here," I gently step closer and reach out to cover his hands from the side, our opposite shoulders pressing together. "You can be a bit more firm with it, just not too much."
I guide his thumbs to press down the middle to create an overture, and quickly it becomes a very thick tea cup. I can feel Shoto's elation, even with him remaining silent. As we try to make the walls thinner our fingers are too clumsy, especially mine that are so thick. We get this sort of fan shaped opening, so I let go. But with incredible focus, Shoto somehow controls it enough to have a somewhat consistent shape, creating a very angular rice bowl. He grabs my finger and has me smooth out the inside edge, and it feels like we're really creating something together.
He lets go of both my hand and the pedal, our masterpiece quickly coming to a stop. "I love it," he says with a soft tilt to his lips, looking up at me like it's not just the bowl he's enamored with. My heart skips a beat as it does so frequently when I'm around him.
"Well done, Sho," I whisper warmly, the new pet name escaping me naturally. It earns me a quickly blushing boyfriend sneaking another kiss, this time to my lips. I can't help chuckling happily. He makes me feel so soft and giddy.
Thankfully we have time to detangle ourselves before the shop owner returns. She has us get cleaned up, helps us glaze our pieces. It's with a promise that our pieces will be fired up and baked ready for pick up in three days' time that I make the payment and thank her for all her help.
When we step out, I notice just how late it's gotten, the once busy street now empty save for some very sparse snowflakes that fall in slow-motion. I lean over to press a warm kiss to Sho's scar just below his eye before murmuring, "Snow means it'll feel warmer."
"I'm always warm when I'm with you."