In a quaint pottery studio nestled amidst the vibrant streets of Sunagakure, Daiki found himself in a some-what strange situation. His mentor had instructed, well, demanded that he develop his new-found abilities, particularly about shaping clay of all things. Clay? Why must he do that! Certainly he had some natural artistic skill with it, but now... this was part of his training? Perhaps it was to increase his agility and manual dexterity?
And, thus instructed, he embarked on a noble mission: to mold clay into works of art that would be auctioned off to benefit a local charity. After registering, Daiki sat with a bunch of strangely dressed 'hippie' women, dirty with clay in their hair, each in front of a potters wheel. They each tried to pinch his cheeks and tell him what a good boy he was for making plates for poor people.
This only fed his inward rage. He would make the women embarrassed by showing off his skills and making their worthless lives apparent... being beaten by a child!
Then the 'class' began. It was incredibly simple for the Myakashi, his nimble hands sculpting the clay expertly with the clucking of the women saying how good he was for a young boy driving his rage and focus. With each spin of the potter's wheel, he poured his heart and soul into his creations, unaware of what he was subconsciously pouring into the clay. As Daiki shaped the clay, his nimble fingers danced with precision, transforming it into elegant plates with intricate designs. However, fate had a mischievous plan in store. Unbeknownst to the unsuspecting boy, the clay he used had now been... effected by his bloodline abilities. With each gentle stroke of his brush and every careful glaze, he unwittingly sowed the seeds of his impending disaster.
Upon completion, the plates were a testament to Daiki's artistic prowess. Beyond the skills of a mere boy, the women were perplexed at how well this strange albino boy had done. Not only was his pottery skills impressive, but he had coloured and glazed them with remarkable skill. Gleaming with vibrant colors, they were a beautiful sight to behold. To Daiki they were a testament in focusing his rage to create rather than destroy.
However, as Daiki proudly displayed his masterpiece, disaster struck (otherwise this would be an incredibly boring story).
With a deafening roar, the plates shattered into a thousand pieces, sending shards of pottery flying through the air. Initially, Daiki and the onlookers were stunned. Confusion and disbelief filled the atmosphere as they pieced together the cause of the explosion. Sabotage they guessed, at some rival who was jealous of the small boys abilities! Almost immediately, the shock turned to laughter - no-one was hurt, and it had really livened up the otherwise dull class. Amidst the laughter and astonishment, Daiki couldn't help but smile a small, secret smile. He had poured his heart and soul into his work, not knowing its explosive potential. Despite the unexpected outcome, he remained determined to use his experience as a lesson and pursue his passion with renewed zest.
Art was an explosion after all.
[WC: 520]
And, thus instructed, he embarked on a noble mission: to mold clay into works of art that would be auctioned off to benefit a local charity. After registering, Daiki sat with a bunch of strangely dressed 'hippie' women, dirty with clay in their hair, each in front of a potters wheel. They each tried to pinch his cheeks and tell him what a good boy he was for making plates for poor people.
This only fed his inward rage. He would make the women embarrassed by showing off his skills and making their worthless lives apparent... being beaten by a child!
Then the 'class' began. It was incredibly simple for the Myakashi, his nimble hands sculpting the clay expertly with the clucking of the women saying how good he was for a young boy driving his rage and focus. With each spin of the potter's wheel, he poured his heart and soul into his creations, unaware of what he was subconsciously pouring into the clay. As Daiki shaped the clay, his nimble fingers danced with precision, transforming it into elegant plates with intricate designs. However, fate had a mischievous plan in store. Unbeknownst to the unsuspecting boy, the clay he used had now been... effected by his bloodline abilities. With each gentle stroke of his brush and every careful glaze, he unwittingly sowed the seeds of his impending disaster.
Upon completion, the plates were a testament to Daiki's artistic prowess. Beyond the skills of a mere boy, the women were perplexed at how well this strange albino boy had done. Not only was his pottery skills impressive, but he had coloured and glazed them with remarkable skill. Gleaming with vibrant colors, they were a beautiful sight to behold. To Daiki they were a testament in focusing his rage to create rather than destroy.
However, as Daiki proudly displayed his masterpiece, disaster struck (otherwise this would be an incredibly boring story).
With a deafening roar, the plates shattered into a thousand pieces, sending shards of pottery flying through the air. Initially, Daiki and the onlookers were stunned. Confusion and disbelief filled the atmosphere as they pieced together the cause of the explosion. Sabotage they guessed, at some rival who was jealous of the small boys abilities! Almost immediately, the shock turned to laughter - no-one was hurt, and it had really livened up the otherwise dull class. Amidst the laughter and astonishment, Daiki couldn't help but smile a small, secret smile. He had poured his heart and soul into his work, not knowing its explosive potential. Despite the unexpected outcome, he remained determined to use his experience as a lesson and pursue his passion with renewed zest.
Art was an explosion after all.
[WC: 520]