Ceramic
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters originating from said series.
Author's Note: I would have liked to extend this into a multi-chapter story, but seeing the progression of my current ongoing fanfics, that probably would not have been such a good idea. Instead, this is a one-shot, which may later develop into a collection of one-shots of a general, in which case it will be re-titled. Enjoy!
Word Count: 1,441
The young woman tried to refrain from wincing at her fellow classmate, who apparently found it perfectly natural to scrape out his brains through his nose in the middle of their pottery class.
"What's-your-face! You better wash your hands before you touch any of my clay!" barked their teacher from across the classroom. The man appeared young, not much older than any of the students in his class, nor was he much taller.
Perhaps it was due to this lack of significant differentiation that the teacher received so little respect. "Whatever, teach," drawled the student, unimpressed by the other man.
"Look, whatever-your-name-is, you better listen to what I've got to say, or I swear I will beat you into next Tuesday," the instructor threatened, an action which the young woman was pretty sure to be prohibited by the university.
Not looking for a fight, the student plodded over to a sink, rinsed his hands none-too-carefully, and sat back down.
Satisfied, the teacher turned to the rest of the class. "Good morning," he greeted, though the clock clearly read three in the afternoon. "My name is Deidara, and I will be teaching you how to handle, mold, fire, and create with clay, yeah. I'll actually work along with you, so you kiddies get the privilege of watching the birth of multiple masterpieces."
Apparently, Deidara was unaware that most of the students taking his Ceramics 1A course merely needed to fulfill their fine arts credits and heard from fellow pupils that between ceramics and woodworking, ceramics was less likely to end in mortal injury.
"Feeding them that shit again, Deidara?" sneered a voice from the doorway. The class turned in their stools to see the woodworking master himself, Sasori, glaring snidely at his blonde counterpart. A student who had taken Deidara's class before would know that Sasori found creepy amusement in degrading the blonde's artistic forte, which he believed to be slow and ugly, whereas woodworking was more immediate in taking forms as well as longer-lasting due to being less breakable.
"You're just bitter because I've got more students," replied Deidara in a clipped tone, though he showed the redhead infinitely more respect than vice versa. "The only reason you come over all the time to insult me is because you haven't got any students for an audience in your classroom."
Sasori snorted derisively and stalked silently back to his classroom.
Throughout the entire exchange, Hyuuga Hinata, the young lady from before, held her breath, for fear of the safety of the eccentric yet likable instructor. (Sasori was infamous among the student body for his brutal insults to any who crossed him.) Now that Sasori exited the scene, she exhaled in relief.
Returning his attention to the class, Deidara said, "You're going to see a lot of that this semester. Sasori and I disagree on numerous aspects of art, which tends to lead to numerous arguments, as you would imagine." With a grin, he announced, "Let's get started!"
Hinata was in the midst of shaping her very first clay pot when Deidara spontaneously decided to speak to her.
"How are you this fine morning?" the artist inquired cheerfully.
"Um, it's the afternoon."
The blonde man cocked his head to the right curiously. "Oh, that's right. I'm—what's the term?—a late owl, yeah. Your afternoon is my morning. But it's all really just a matter of opinion."
"Oh." She turned her concentration to the rapidly spinning pottery wheel. "Oh!" During her inattention, the clay formed in a lopsided shape and now toppled over in an assuredly inartistic heap. "Oh, no…"
"Hyuuga-san, is it?" Without waiting for an answer, he stood behind her and grasped her hands, pressing them against the clay as the wheel continued spinning. "Let me help you."
By then, Hinata had frozen at the contact and resigned herself to watching as he pressed her hands to shape the clay into a simple vase. However, there was a certain elegance in its simplicity, and Hinata could not help but stare wondrously at the creation of her hands, albeit with aid.
"Thank you," she finally managed to say to her instructor.
He waved off her gratitude. "Just doing my job, Hyuuga-san. Say, you aren't part of that esteemed Hyuuga clan—the ones with the huge corporation and sticks up their butts to match?"
Startled by the impropriety with which he referred to her family, Hinata could only say, "Um…yes."
"Funny. You don't seem to have a stick up your butt, yeah," Deidara mused as he wiped his clay-covered palms on a rag. "You seem like a nice girl, Hyuuga-san."
Still somewhat flabbergasted by the bluntness of her teacher, she thanked him unsurely.
"No problem," the blonde continued, oblivious to her bewilderment. "I'm glad you aren't like the other Hyuuga. I like nice people. They're…nicer, yeah."
"Oh. Okay." Despite his eccentric allure, Deidara was weird. At least, Hinata thought so.
The man rambled on, utterly unaware of Hinata's discomfort, "I like to think myself a nice person, but it's hard when there's people like Sasori always denouncing my work, so I sometimes lash out. Occasionally, that's gotten me into trouble, which is why I'm working here at this university instead of at this one studio where I was supposed to be until some asshole wouldn't let me blow up my stuff."
"Why would he object to making your art bigger?" inquired Hinata out of both courtesy and curiosity.
To her surprise, Deidara laughed. "Oh, no, I literally meant blow up. Like, explode."
"Um…"
"It would have been the most brilliant display of my artistic prowess, but the master thought it too 'dangerous' and booted me before I could say 'bang'," said the blonde man with a forcibly indifferent shrug. The rejection apparently still affected him. "The university lets me execute my art as long as no students or faculty are harmed. As if I didn't have the skill," he scoffed. Hinata noticed his knuckles whiten at the mention of their doubt of his capabilities.
"Are you, um—will you blow anything up for us?" she inquired, timid yet curious as to the extremities of his art form. "For the class, I mean."
The blonde man scoffed. "If only. According to the university board, I'm not allowed to teach you true art. I've gotta do everything by the book."
"True art?"
A broad grin spread across the young man's tanned at her queries. "What's truly artistic is transient, fleeting, a single moment of time which exceeds all earthly and human concepts of beauty. It cannot be captured by anything or anybody, nor can it ever be reciprocated, yeah."
"I see." Sort of, she added mentally. She really responded only out of habitual politeness.
Remaining oblivious, Deidara leaned on the table, elbows propping himself up with his head thrown back to gaze at the ceiling in contemplation, an irreverent exhale escaping his upturned lips. "Not enough people do."
Hinata, unsure as to how to continue their conversation, decided the best course of action to be to return her attention to her pottery. "Um, Deidara-sensei, what do I do now?"
Broken from his reverie, he blinked confusedly before replying. "Oh! Well, would you like to put any designs on it first?"
"Um." In her mind, she threw obscene curses at her stutter for making her appear so inarticulate. "No?"
Deidara shrugged. "I don't care whatever you want to do. We'll get it fired and glazed next, but I should probably wait for the rest of the class to catch up before you get too far ahead." He blew at his bangs, lifting it shortly before it fell back to cover his azure eye.
Before he noticed, Hinata blinked, ending her captivated gaze at her oblivious professor. "Um—ah—well—uh—thank you."
He laughed, a loud reverberation in his chest that drew the attention of her previously focused classmates, who seemed disapproving of their teacher's apparent favoritism toward the young woman. With a sharp glare from the young man, they promptly returned to their unfinished pottery.
"Hyuuga-san, there's no need for you to be anxious around me, yeah!" he exclaimed in good humor, laying a hand colored by the clay atop her shoulder, forgetting that he would probably leave a handprint on her blouse. "You'll find that I can be a friendly person."
A faint smile crept to Hinata's lips despite her very best attempt to suppress it. "Yes…I believe I've already found this to be true, Deidara-sensei."
Inwardly, she groaned. How could she survive for an entire semester? Her attraction to the artist—however charming he might seem—would certainly be the death of her.
Afterword: No promises that I'll write anything in a timely fashion, but feel free to make suggestions for my AU (give me scenes, characters, and/or their roles/jobs in the AU)! Please, just keep it within my comfort zone.