A/N: Okay, this is super short, but I promise I'll be uploading a chapter next week that's much longer. I told myself I'd upload Chapter 6 on September 9th anyway, plus it just seems right to post a new chapter on the second anniversary of the day I started writing Heartbreak Cure. Unfortunately I found out I have a pretty sizable assignment due on the 10th, so I desperately need to work on that, but Chapter 6 is still locked in for 9/9.

(Guess who has two classes and a fic but needs to re-learn how to portion her time wisely? This girl...)

Enjoy!

[Chapter 05]: Pottery Muscles

Within two weeks, they were walking to and from school together every day.

It was Yuri's idea. If Kimito wanted to run him ragged as soon as he got home from school, they might as well take the moments in between. He was starting to appreciate how clever this girl was. Clever, but also daring to the point of foolishness. Within the first week of them walking together, Yuri wanted to accompany him as far as the edge of the Naoi estate, past the trees.

"That's way too close to the workshop," he'd warned her. "My dad might be there. He'd see you."

"And what, you'd get in trouble for walking home with a friend?" Yuri jabbed. Then she'd preened, puffing up proudly. "I think we've already established that you avoid punishment by sticking with me."

She presented a good argument, but he stood firm. She'd wave goodbye and he'd watch until she disappeared down the road, just to make sure. But he never missed the flicker of disappointment on her face before she nodded and turned her back on him.

It wasn't her. She had to know that. He just—didn't want to ruin a good thing.

Yes, she was the daughter of Kimito's best customers. Yes, she could hold her own and look his father right in the eye—but that was one of his worries. She might let that get to her head. Nakamura or not, Ayato knew how his father treated women who took a step out of line.

Kimito might hold it together so that nothing negative got back to her parents, but still… he couldn't take that chance. All logic and reason flew out the window as soon as he'd pictured her after a confrontation, with bruises like his mother's.

He couldn't risk that. He couldn't risk her.

It was strange, knowing someone for less than a month and then having this powerful need to protect them. He wondered where he'd gotten it from. Certainly not his father. Very doubtfully from his mother, who was too demure to do anything against her husband's will. Maybe it was Yuri, already rubbing off on him.

Whatever it was, it made him want to keep Yuri separate from his home life. Help her "stay out of Mr. Naoi's way," as she herself had put it.

Instead, they found more time to spend together during school. When they had a free period, lunch or otherwise, they would walk and talk in the halls or meet in an empty club room. If he hadn't already noticed, it was surprisingly easy to talk to Yuri. He would've thought he'd gotten rusty over the past six years, only speaking when spoken to with Kimito or when answering a question in class.

No—instead, it came naturally. Much like her competitive side, and her stubborn inability to let things go.

"I'm just saying," she said over lunch in the club room, kicking back in her seat and waving her chopsticks at him. "It's not like I'm dying to run into the guy. It's just that it would give us a little more time to hang out."

"Five minutes, maybe." Ayato shrugged and sipped his juice.

It was almost June, and she'd been bringing this up since late April. She played it like she didn't care, like she was the queen of nonchalance, but he saw right past her. It would come up more often on the days and weeks that her parents were gone. Apparently late spring was a busy season for them. While she had no curfew being enforced, she seemed particularly eager to take advantage of it.

"And maybe I want to take the path with the walking bridge," Yuri continued, picking up her half-drunk coffee can. "It's a good shortcut. The place where it opens up takes me a little closer to my house, and the bridge makes my walk home more scenic."

Ayato sighed. "I don't know…"

"Come on," she coaxed. "I don't know why you're being such a stiff about this."

"Yes you do."

"He's not going to murder you if a Nakamura escorts you back to your house." She scoffed through a sip of her drink. After a pause, she flashed him one of her infamous grins. "If anything, he'd give you a respectful pat on the back for establishing goodwill with a customer."

Ayato harrumphed.

"I can't remember a time that man raised a hand to me for a positive reason," he said scornfully. Yuri snapped her gaze on him.

"What…?" Her grip on her coffee can grew tighter. The aluminum crinkled.

He realized what he'd let slip, but what's done was done. Besides, he'd insinuated as much numerous times over the course of their month-and-a-half-long friendship, what with the "my father is going to kill me" comments. Maybe this time his implications were just more direct than what she was used to.

At the moment though, he'd rather let her continue reading between the lines.

"Oh, you know he isn't the affectionate sort," he said.

Yuri's frown grew pensive, then wavered.

"Fine, whatever." There were some topics she would let go. "I still think you should worry less about me coming anywhere near where your dad could possibly be." And then there were ones she wouldn't.

Ayato stuffed his last dumpling into his mouth and arched his eyebrows at her, hoping his silence would drive his point.

"Even if he tried to start something, I think I could take him," Yuri reasoned.

He choked, roughly swallowing down the dumpling and struggling to keep a straight face.

"You?" he finally managed, snorting with laughter. "You're tiny!"

"I'm stronger than I look!" Yuri shot back, her cheeks flushed with indignation and a bit of humor.

"Good, because you look petite and girlish."

"I'll show you petite and girlish." She moved her lunch off the table and replaced it with her elbow, propping her right arm up.

Ayato blinked slowly. "What are you doing?"

"Arm wrestle," Yuri said simply, through half-lidded eyes. "You and me, right now." She flexed her fingers invitingly.

"All right," he said with a sigh, moving his own box. "I'll wrestle your dainty little arm."

Propping his right arm on the table, he matched his hand up with hers and entwined them. Perhaps her skin wasn't princess-soft, but it was overwhelmingly clear which one of them hadn't worked with pottery a day in her life.

Still, after he called it and started pressing her down, he found himself frowning with strained effort. She was putting up a good fight, keeping them at a standstill no matter how stubbornly he tried to pin her.

Concentrating hard, he put more weight into it after too many seconds of their impasse, until she succumbed to his pressure by mere centimeters. But those were a few centimeters toward victory in his favor.

She bit her lip, pushing upwards valiantly, too proud to face an imminent failure. They gridlocked again. Ayato was about to give her some credit for her persistence—

—and then, with a smirk and a surge of strength, she sent his hand crashing to the tabletop.

"Hah!" Yuri jumped up from her seat. "How's that?!"

"Lucky win," Ayato said, massaging his poor victimized hand.

"You're supposed to say 'you're right, Yuri, you're so much stronger than I realized.'"

"Why would I be swooning?"

Yuri just grinned proudly at him, her triumphant hand on her cocked hip. He tried to fight a smirk of his own. She was so ridiculous.

"Don't get too sure of yourself," he said, crossing his arms in front of him. "You were up against my skinny twig arms."

"Don't downplay my victory!" she complained. "You might be lanky but you've got… pottery muscles."

He started cracking up. "What are pottery muscles?"

"These!"

Before he could open his mouth again, she'd grabbed the sleeve of his school uniform and yanked it up his arm, hoping to reveal whatever bulging pottery-related biceps she thought he had—but instead, revealing a lot more.

The purplish marks trailing up and down his arm weren't anything new to him, but Yuri… with Yuri there, peering down at them, they seemed to glare from his skin. It was almost like remembering he had a tongue, and then being entirely unable to not feel it there. Her hands were still on his arm, fingers grazing the sleeve and eyes glued to his bruises. And then she flicked her stare back to him.

Not good. Not good.

"We don't have to talk about this right now," Yuri said evenly, measuring her words, "if you extend your little boundary rule."

Ayato sighed with relief.

"Fine," he said, and stopped her from rolling his sleeve back down. "On one more condition."

"Hmm?"

He thumped his arm back on the table upright.

"I want a rematch."

A/N: And that's the origin of pottery muscles. Next chapter will be more eventful, as you may recognize from the previews, so stay tuned!

Also, for those of you Heartbreak Cure readers, I managed to start Chapter 30 last night before I called for a homework hiatus. Man, it is so good to have an outline handy. Chapter 25 is the season finale, so the more chapters I have ready after that, the surer I feel that I won't catch up with myself and leave anyone hanging. God bless solid schedules.

See you next Saturday! (Can you believe it's September 2017? Somewhere in Mizuzaka, Naoi must be buying Yuri her anniversary locket...)

Preview:

"Did he ever go to our school?"

"Just watch the game, smartass."

"You think she's cute!"

"Do not talk to her about feelings that don't exist."

"STOP TRYING TO BREAK MY FACE, YOU LOSER!"

"I knew I could take the blow."

"You don't deserve any of it."

"Yuri, this is a bad idea."

[Chapter 06]: Protective Shield.