the effort to repair it
Oct. 5th, 2019 05:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowdreamerSummary: Anthia receives a gift from a friend, with more meaning than the simple packaging implies.
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Happy birthday, Anthia!
Do you remember that mug of yours that you liked so much, the one that Smoke knocked over? I kept the pieces, but I never got the chance to repair it, and then a couple weeks ago, I found this kit in a store while I was looking for cookbooks. I immediately thought of you, given everything that's happened recently- and I thought maybe you would enjoy a new hobby as a distraction.
There's instructions in the kit- I looked through them to make sure they were coherent, but the picture diagrams were fairly detailed, and I already know how brilliant you are, so I'm sure they won't give you any trouble.
I hope you enjoy it!
With love,
Maelia
Setting the letter down, Anthia peered at the box sitting in her lap. The aforementioned broken mug was nestled into a square compartment, green ceramic resting among blue tissue paper. Two little jars of metal powder, and a tube of some sort of paste, took up most of the remaining space, along with a small paperback instruction manual. Elegant, swooping golden font made up the title-
'Kintsukuroi: Golden Mending'.
A bemused smile came to the teenager's lips, as she lifted the manual from the box, setting the rest aside for a moment. A quick scan through it had her getting to her feet, taking the box and moving to her desk for a more stable surface to work on. Reading more carefully the second time through, she lifted the broken shards of ceramic from the kit, spreading them out on the desk. A small paper plate joined them, the instruction manual propped up and open on the corner as she lifted the tubes from the kit.
It really was as simple as Maelia had said in her letter, the diagram showing exactly how to prepare the mixture. The painting was soothing, almost meditative, as she mixed up one tiny batch of resin at a time, carefully brushing over the edges of each shard before pressing them together. Her wings formed a shelter around her desk as she worked, slow, deep breaths getting exhaled through her gills.
She'd expected the manual to be dull, honestly, if informative- a simple guidebook and list of instructions. She hadn't expected the little blurbs tucked into the margins, the small pictures and notes. From how the booklet described it, for some, it was more than just an art form- it was a philosophy. People comparing healing from their trauma to the repairs they'd done, how it had helped them to see themselves in a new light. Maelia had looked at the manual- was this what she'd meant for Anthia to take to heart?
As she carefully clamped two pieces together, she looked over one of the blurbs, fins twitching."The cracks never go away- and people are the same. Trauma isn't a failure, or a flaw- it's just something that happens. It's not beautiful, or poetic- it's jarring, painful, like falling on broken glass." A bitter snort, and Anthia nodded in agreement as she painted another edge. "You've got that right," she muttered under her breath, continuing to read. "But we can heal, if we put in the effort, if we let ourselves acknowledge our pain and just try. It's not that it's more beautiful for having been broken," the author continued, "but that it's more beautiful for having taken the effort to repair it." Something about that- resonated, a little, and her breath caught in her throat, her gills stinging as her eyes watered. Anthia reached up, scrubbing at her eye with her free hand as she continued reading. "Kintsukuroi is the acceptance of the past, and building on it as the foundation of the future. It means not hiding the damage- but building from it, instead."
Maelia had definitely chosen this gift deliberately, Anthia decided, rubbing at her eyes again. Meddlesome demoness. Had Akihan seen the present first? Either way, he'd probably agree, and approve of the gift. And looking down at the repaired mug on her desk, gold lines gleaming among green leaves, Anthia couldn't find it in herself to mind the meddling. Having adults that wanted to look out for her was... strange, still. But- well. Maybe it was kind of nice. Even if she'd never admit it where her brothers could hear.
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Happy birthday, Anthia!
Do you remember that mug of yours that you liked so much, the one that Smoke knocked over? I kept the pieces, but I never got the chance to repair it, and then a couple weeks ago, I found this kit in a store while I was looking for cookbooks. I immediately thought of you, given everything that's happened recently- and I thought maybe you would enjoy a new hobby as a distraction.
There's instructions in the kit- I looked through them to make sure they were coherent, but the picture diagrams were fairly detailed, and I already know how brilliant you are, so I'm sure they won't give you any trouble.
I hope you enjoy it!
With love,
Maelia
Setting the letter down, Anthia peered at the box sitting in her lap. The aforementioned broken mug was nestled into a square compartment, green ceramic resting among blue tissue paper. Two little jars of metal powder, and a tube of some sort of paste, took up most of the remaining space, along with a small paperback instruction manual. Elegant, swooping golden font made up the title-
'Kintsukuroi: Golden Mending'.
A bemused smile came to the teenager's lips, as she lifted the manual from the box, setting the rest aside for a moment. A quick scan through it had her getting to her feet, taking the box and moving to her desk for a more stable surface to work on. Reading more carefully the second time through, she lifted the broken shards of ceramic from the kit, spreading them out on the desk. A small paper plate joined them, the instruction manual propped up and open on the corner as she lifted the tubes from the kit.
It really was as simple as Maelia had said in her letter, the diagram showing exactly how to prepare the mixture. The painting was soothing, almost meditative, as she mixed up one tiny batch of resin at a time, carefully brushing over the edges of each shard before pressing them together. Her wings formed a shelter around her desk as she worked, slow, deep breaths getting exhaled through her gills.
She'd expected the manual to be dull, honestly, if informative- a simple guidebook and list of instructions. She hadn't expected the little blurbs tucked into the margins, the small pictures and notes. From how the booklet described it, for some, it was more than just an art form- it was a philosophy. People comparing healing from their trauma to the repairs they'd done, how it had helped them to see themselves in a new light. Maelia had looked at the manual- was this what she'd meant for Anthia to take to heart?
As she carefully clamped two pieces together, she looked over one of the blurbs, fins twitching."The cracks never go away- and people are the same. Trauma isn't a failure, or a flaw- it's just something that happens. It's not beautiful, or poetic- it's jarring, painful, like falling on broken glass." A bitter snort, and Anthia nodded in agreement as she painted another edge. "You've got that right," she muttered under her breath, continuing to read. "But we can heal, if we put in the effort, if we let ourselves acknowledge our pain and just try. It's not that it's more beautiful for having been broken," the author continued, "but that it's more beautiful for having taken the effort to repair it." Something about that- resonated, a little, and her breath caught in her throat, her gills stinging as her eyes watered. Anthia reached up, scrubbing at her eye with her free hand as she continued reading. "Kintsukuroi is the acceptance of the past, and building on it as the foundation of the future. It means not hiding the damage- but building from it, instead."
Maelia had definitely chosen this gift deliberately, Anthia decided, rubbing at her eyes again. Meddlesome demoness. Had Akihan seen the present first? Either way, he'd probably agree, and approve of the gift. And looking down at the repaired mug on her desk, gold lines gleaming among green leaves, Anthia couldn't find it in herself to mind the meddling. Having adults that wanted to look out for her was... strange, still. But- well. Maybe it was kind of nice. Even if she'd never admit it where her brothers could hear.
