68 Christmas Gift and Some Alone Time

We came straight into Akira's room, but he left me alone as soon as we arrived. To get some tea and snacks, he said.

I sat on the double size bed as I waited, properly scrutinizing his room now. I was jittery the first time, drunk the second time, and horny the third time. A plain light blue curtain draped over the windows above the study table. There was a closet to my left, and five-level bookshelf was fixed on the walls in the right that stretched to the corner.

Books, comics, set of DVDs and CDs, and a few ceramics filled it. A single picture frame piqued my attention. I stood and picked it up.

My lips curled, amazed. It was the same people in his laptop wallpaper. They were wearing their black gakuran while holding a dark blue cylinder case of their diploma. They must be thick as thieves. I stiffened. Would they recognize me if they saw me? I breathed out. Maybe I should just ask Akira straight out if he remembered me.

The screen slid open, and Akira stepped in, carrying a tray of tea and snacks and a small chocolate brown wooden box. This was my chance to confirm things.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the box, delaying, warming up.

"Your Christmas present." He grinned. "I can't believe I forgot to give it to you when you arrived."

I took the box, my other question forgotten. Peeking at his reaction, I opened it slowly. Two small teacups without handles emerged.

"Wow," I said, picking up the smaller one. "You made this, didn't you?"

I glanced at him. He nodded. "I made it along with my project. I thought of you and your eyes. Do you like it?"

No one ever gave me a handmade gift since Mom died. Swallowing, I traced the curves of the cup, feeling its smoothness. It was straight and taller than wide. The top was white then lighter brown, getting darker, more chocolate at the bottom.

"Of course," I said quietly, unable to meet his gaze, fearing my voice would croak. This was special. This wasn't just a gift. It was irreplaceable—a treasure.

"Where's mine?" he asked.

I snapped my eyes at him and grimaced. "I didn't get you one, but I'll buy you anything you want tomorrow."

An utter lie. I bought him one when I made reservations for the chicken and the cake. Realizing it now, maybe I already liked him then. I was an ignorant coward fool.

"I was kidding." Akira inched his head to my level. "I only said it to make you look up."

Before I could say anything, he pressed his lips into mine and took the box from me. "Come on. That's not my surprise."

Akira led me to a small room at the end of the corridor. I could tell from the smell what room it was. The damp earthy scent wasn't as strong, but I vividly remembered this odor from the day I tipped over.

"My own pottery studio," he said as he turned on the light.

A pottery wheel sat on the center of the room. Two almost empty dusty large shelves stood on the side. Akira went inside and grabbed the black apron.

"Are you going to teach me pottery?" I tilted my head. "I think it's a fair warning that I'm not capable of any art things."

"Just the basics." He handed me an apron. "I only want you to experience it, and this is the proof I'm talking about. Ojii-san and aniki helped me with the clay."

"All right." I placed the apron over my head and smiled. "What do I do?"

Akira grinned. "Tie up your hair, senpai. I'll be done setting up in a minute."

Going to the side, I put my hair in a bun and watched him bustled around. After three minutes, he finally called me over. Akira sat behind the wheel first as I stood in front of him, nodding while he gave short instructions.

He place a lump, ball of gray clay, on the surface of the wheel and stepped on the pedal. It started spinning slowly. My eyes followed him as Akira dipped his hand on the bucket of water beside him. I studied the way his hands moved, and as the spinning went faster, his words became a distant garble.

When he finally made a hole in the center, and the whole clay panned out, the spinning stopped.

He glanced up at me. "Ready, Reiko-senpai?"

I shook my head but sat down. Akira put another lump of clay for me, wetted it, guided my hand towards it, and then stepped back, towering over me. I tried imitating him. I really did, but it was harder than it looked. Akira repeated his words with a soft tone, but the lump stayed a chunk of clay.

My legs began to tire out when Akira grabbed a chair and settled beside me, taking over the pedal. He hunched over and demonstrated how my position should be. It helped, but it still took a while before I pierced a hole.

Akira changed his stance, going behind me, his heat enveloping me. He put his hands over mine, guiding and steadying it. We remained that way for more than I could keep track until he broke the silence.

"You think ojii-san doesn't like you but he's the one who suggested we do this. He's just being shy." He cleared his throat. "I do have to thank him though. I got to have you on my own for a whole afternoon."

I turned to him, trying to name the warm and fuzzy bubbling in the pit of my stomach. His eyes were shimmering. With a sigh, I let that string of restraint loosen a little. Gods, could I have this forever?

Akira pulled back his hands and sat on his chair. "Don't you think this beat the shrine and the boat ride?"

"Anytime," I replied and leaned in, placing a hand on his apron covered thigh and kissed him fully on the lips.

I felt him smile before he moved back a little. "Gods, I'm glad I agreed to this. Can I wrap my arms around you? I promise to wash your clothes." He bit his lips. "I want to hold you so bad."

I chuckled. "Go ahead."

Without wasting any time, Akira put his hand on my back and pulled me closer. He tilted his head and kissed me, pushing harder than I did.

"Aki, are you here? Why the hell aren't you answering—whoa!"

I immediately backed away and bowed my head. Beside me, Akira cursed. "What's wrong with the people here? Where and when can I get some privacy and alone time?"