Honey&Clover - One shot - Returning Full Circle
Title: Returning Full Circle for lack of a better title
Fandom: Honey and Clover
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Wordcount: 678
Pairing(s): Yamada xNomiya
Summary: Nomiya's returning from Tottori after a year long absence, and Yamada frets about how she feels.
Author's note: Written for fluorescens as per her request for a Honey and Clover fic. It's not my best work, but I'll attribute that to my first time writing for the series. I'm rewatching it so maybe, when I'm done, I'll be able to come up with something better.
Returning Full Circle
Hearing the chink of another broken pot hitting the floor made her flinch and cringe. Slowly, she turned around and met the long suffering stare of her mentor, Shouda-sensei, who was clutching his heart in pain.
“Go home if you’re going to ruin the work of half my students!” he gasped, as he fought to bring his body back under control.
She flinched and backed away, clutching the tray of pottery in her hands and nearly sending the remaining pieces sliding to the ground and earning another shriek of fright from her sensei. Still gasping, the elderly man rushed forward to grab the tray out of Yamada’s hands. With the pieces trembling in time with the shaking of his hands, he tottered stumbled over to the cooling rack.
He turned and looked the bashful girl in the eye. “You’re making it a living hell in this pottery room with you running around, breaking things, bursting into tears, laughing hysterically. None of my students have dared to come in here, and I’m starting to hear rumors that there’s a ghost haunting the pottery department!” He pointed an accusing hand at the slim woman. “You’ve been scaring them off with the flurry of scatterbrained work and histrionics. Go away and come back a sane woman!”
Yamada’s face paled as she backed away from her sensei towards the door as he continued to rant and transfer the pottery she had just finished baking to the shelf. She hadn’t meant to be such a burden to the old man, but it had been almost a year since she had seen Nomiya.
They had kept in contact through coworkers and little text messages that never said anything. Occasionally she was forced to speak to him on the phone when he wanted her to make something special for the hotel of the moment he was working on. Other times she just saw the back of a postcard he had sent to the office; knowing he wrote those inane words never failed to bring a blush to her face.
She didn’t know what they were to each other; he had been there in her worst moments when Mayama had been struggling to make something happen with Rika while warding off her own foolish love. He had seen her get drunk and nearly die of food poisoning. He had consoled her and given her the words to let her know that even if life was bad, she was still living and breathing and capable of feeling.
Nomiya was Nomiya, a manipulative, sneaky, understanding person who somehow knew her better then she did herself. He never once laid a hand on her, nor pushed her further then the proprieties of friendship, but did she want him to be more then that to her?
Feeling her cheeks exude with heat, she raced out of the art room and just kept on running. She wanted to outrun the thoughts that had been plaguing her mind for days since she had been told that Nomiya was returning. She wanted to out run the color she knew was staining her flesh with the barely acknowledged thoughts running around in her head. She wanted to outrun the heart that had slowly begun turning away from her old love and the fact that maybe, it was ready for a new one.
Blindly running, she welcomed the feeling of the passing air against her body as she cut through the thick autumn air. She reveled in the feeling of her skirt streaming behind her and the lightness of the hair she had always grown long. She reveled in the feeling that he was coming back today.
Slowing down, she found herself standing next to the river, a view of a Ferris wheel far in the distance. Panting, but smiling, she gazed at the amusement park and remembered another Ferris wheel she had spent a whole night watching from a distance. It was his talisman, his constant companion while working on his first project as a wet-behind-the-ears architect. He had never ridden it either, if she remembered his words correctly.
Maybe one of these days, he’d let her take a ride on that Ferris wheel and join the ideals of his past with a promise of the future.
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Fandom: Honey and Clover
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Wordcount: 678
Pairing(s): Yamada xNomiya
Summary: Nomiya's returning from Tottori after a year long absence, and Yamada frets about how she feels.
Author's note: Written for fluorescens as per her request for a Honey and Clover fic. It's not my best work, but I'll attribute that to my first time writing for the series. I'm rewatching it so maybe, when I'm done, I'll be able to come up with something better.
Returning Full Circle
Hearing the chink of another broken pot hitting the floor made her flinch and cringe. Slowly, she turned around and met the long suffering stare of her mentor, Shouda-sensei, who was clutching his heart in pain.
“Go home if you’re going to ruin the work of half my students!” he gasped, as he fought to bring his body back under control.
She flinched and backed away, clutching the tray of pottery in her hands and nearly sending the remaining pieces sliding to the ground and earning another shriek of fright from her sensei. Still gasping, the elderly man rushed forward to grab the tray out of Yamada’s hands. With the pieces trembling in time with the shaking of his hands, he tottered stumbled over to the cooling rack.
He turned and looked the bashful girl in the eye. “You’re making it a living hell in this pottery room with you running around, breaking things, bursting into tears, laughing hysterically. None of my students have dared to come in here, and I’m starting to hear rumors that there’s a ghost haunting the pottery department!” He pointed an accusing hand at the slim woman. “You’ve been scaring them off with the flurry of scatterbrained work and histrionics. Go away and come back a sane woman!”
Yamada’s face paled as she backed away from her sensei towards the door as he continued to rant and transfer the pottery she had just finished baking to the shelf. She hadn’t meant to be such a burden to the old man, but it had been almost a year since she had seen Nomiya.
They had kept in contact through coworkers and little text messages that never said anything. Occasionally she was forced to speak to him on the phone when he wanted her to make something special for the hotel of the moment he was working on. Other times she just saw the back of a postcard he had sent to the office; knowing he wrote those inane words never failed to bring a blush to her face.
She didn’t know what they were to each other; he had been there in her worst moments when Mayama had been struggling to make something happen with Rika while warding off her own foolish love. He had seen her get drunk and nearly die of food poisoning. He had consoled her and given her the words to let her know that even if life was bad, she was still living and breathing and capable of feeling.
Nomiya was Nomiya, a manipulative, sneaky, understanding person who somehow knew her better then she did herself. He never once laid a hand on her, nor pushed her further then the proprieties of friendship, but did she want him to be more then that to her?
Feeling her cheeks exude with heat, she raced out of the art room and just kept on running. She wanted to outrun the thoughts that had been plaguing her mind for days since she had been told that Nomiya was returning. She wanted to out run the color she knew was staining her flesh with the barely acknowledged thoughts running around in her head. She wanted to outrun the heart that had slowly begun turning away from her old love and the fact that maybe, it was ready for a new one.
Blindly running, she welcomed the feeling of the passing air against her body as she cut through the thick autumn air. She reveled in the feeling of her skirt streaming behind her and the lightness of the hair she had always grown long. She reveled in the feeling that he was coming back today.
Slowing down, she found herself standing next to the river, a view of a Ferris wheel far in the distance. Panting, but smiling, she gazed at the amusement park and remembered another Ferris wheel she had spent a whole night watching from a distance. It was his talisman, his constant companion while working on his first project as a wet-behind-the-ears architect. He had never ridden it either, if she remembered his words correctly.
Maybe one of these days, he’d let her take a ride on that Ferris wheel and join the ideals of his past with a promise of the future.
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