Ah, and last but not least, my final 100 Word Challenge! Woohoo! Like the Harry Potter, this typically won't be in chronological order. This is my first attempt at a Honey and Clover fic, so please excuse any OOCness that happens. OTL
Prompt One: Fingers
Welcome Home
I look from my hands to the pottery wheel and back again several times. Then I glance around the room again. It's been weeks, months since I've been here. I'd almost forgotten what it looked like.
On the shelf over by the window, I see some of the pieces I did back when I could produce something good, before everything I made was horrible. That's why I threw myself into working at the shop full time. I couldn't handle coming back here after I lost inspiration.
I don't know why it happened; it just did. Slowly, my passion dwindled. But it wasn't just in pottery, though, it was everything. I was in this state of perpetual apathy, except for when I got angry with myself for making something I thought worthless. I don't want to blame him for it, it's not fair. But when I gave up on Mayama, I gave up on everything, and when I gave up, my fingers became weapons of destruction instead of tools of creation. I wanted to cut my hands off, so that no more clay would suffer from their touch.
Hagu watched me go from beating myself up and screaming to crying to nothing, all within hours of each other. I knew it worried her, but I couldn't stop, not until I could produce something good again. But every time I tried, I failed. Once I even tried to break my fingers, I was so upset. She eventually made me stop and think for a bit, and suggested I take a break from art for a while. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stand hating myself constantly, so I did, and never wanted to set foot here again.
Three months went by, and I began to feel human again, more like my old self. I wasn't completely back yet, but I was close. There, instead of molding clay, my fingers worked a cash register, and stacked bottles of alcohol. They were once again useful to me. And then he stopped by the shop.
It was a shock to see him there; it'd been pretty much since I quit pottery since I'd seen Mayama, and for him to just suddenly show up threw me off guard. We talked for a while, and when he left, I felt…okay. My feelings were still present, that was for sure, but I didn't want to die at the sight of him anymore. It gave me hope.
So, today, I came up to the school, and now I'm standing here in the pottery room, staring at the wheel like it's something I've never seen before. I'm scared. I don't want to mess up, and hate myself again. I don't think I'll be able to handle it. But I want to try.
Taking a deep breath, I slip out of my coat, and tie my hair up. I put on an apron and sit down, before sinking my fingers into the cool, squishy clay. The feel of it makes me smile; it's like a welcome from an old friend, and it my qualms melt away.
I switch on the wheel, and settle back so that my fingers can work their magic.