boldygoing | [IC] Voicemail

"Good. I am glad." Hunter returns the brief kiss. That had been one of Hunter's main goals. To get Jim out of his hiding little by little. To help his boyfriend reconnect with the people that he will be spending the next five years with.

"So... as for the gift for tonight... you have to follow me to the pottery room."

Jim's eyebrows drift up, unsure where this is going. "The pottery room, huh? I didn't know you could work with clay one-handed."

"I can't. But tonight is not about me..."

"My gift is to teach you the art of Kintsukuroi." Hunter leads Jim into his new pottery studio. One of the new things about his renovated apartment.

He gestures to a table of pottery pieces. Some belonged to pottery that got destroyed when Bellatrix had attacked the apartment. Others belonged to pieces that got broken after being taken out of the kiln.

"It's the Japanese art of repaired pottery."

Jim had thought they had disposed of all the damaged artwork, so seeing those pieces is a bit of a surprise, and he hesitates, uncertain what Hunter intends here. He frowns a little, unfamiliar with the art style that the other man has mentioned.

"But... they're broken. Would it be easier to just... get new ones?"

Hunter chuckles lightly at the question. He grabs two pottery aprons, throwing his on untied. And then handing Jim the second one.

"Here let me show you..."

"We are going to use a gold liquid to create a new piece of pottery, from these broken pieces. These new pottery pieces are going to become more beautiful... having been broken." Hunter explains.

He is able to start the process one-handed, though it is difficult and slow-going. But since he wants to show Jim the process, going slow is fine with him.

"The story is... there was a bowl that was much loved by a military ruler. One day during a gathering, a servant accidentally dropped the bowl, which broke into five pieces. Everyone paused, fearing for the young man as the military leader was known to possess a quick, harsh temper. Then one of the guests improvised a comic poem about the incident, provoking laughter all around and restoring the leader to good spirits. This story goes on to say that instead of the break diminishing the bowl's appeal, a new sense of its vitality and resilience raised appreciation to even greater heights. The true life of the bowl began the moment it was dropped."

Edited 2017-12-24 15:33 (UTC)

Jim puts the apron on without hesitation, trusting Hunter despite his confusion, and reaches out to help hold the pieces in place when the other man begins to work. And the more Hunter explains, the deeper his words wind his way into the cracks of Jim's own heart.

More beautiful because it was broken... it's not something Jim has ever heard.

He's not sure how to feel about that, struggling to even identify the nagging doubts and turmoil within him, years upon years of hiding away his own brokenness telling him not to let anyone see, to keep it to himself, to put on the happy face and smile, smile, smile, pretend nothing is wrong, nothing was ever wrong, and if it was then it's nobody business but Jim Kirk's.

But now it's not. Hunter knows. Not all of it, not anywhere close, but he's seen the darkness and didn't flinch, didn't run. Poured all his efforts into making sure that for once in a very long time, Hanukkah actually meant something to Jim, not just another week on the calendar, like the years where he didn't even bother to light candles or reflect on anything, or the years where he went through the motions anyway and felt nothing.

He's quiet as Hunter speaks, and continues for several moments after he stops, unsure what to say. "And that... doesn't make it less useful?"

"No. It doesn't make it less useful." Hunter continues to use the gold lacquer to reconnect the broken pieces of what used to be a pottery bowl. Jim can see that it is slowly becoming a bowl once again. Just with the cracks highlighted, instead of hidden.

"The practice is related to the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, which calls for seeing beauty in the flawed or imperfect. The repair method was also born from the Japanese feeling of mottainai, which expresses regret when something is wasted, as well as mushin, the acceptance of change."

"Our lives take us down many different paths. It is import to remember that we can adapt and change. And even during times when we feel broken... that we are only closer to finding our true identity." Hunter looks up to meet Jim's eyes with his own. "We become stronger because of the breakage. We find a way to overcome."

Jim is a guy who can appreciate subtlety and metaphor, even if he's not exactly the best person to actually use it himself. Hunter's gift to him today may be a little on the nose, but... the kindness at the heart of the gesture is honest, and he couldn't turn it away, even if he wanted to.

There are a half dozen jokes he could crack to break the strangeness of the moment, but it doesn't seem right to deflect, not again, not when it would do nothing but take away from the thoughtfulness that Hunter has put into all of this. "You've done a lot of research on this," he says instead, watching the bowl take shape in their hands, its sharp broken edges covered up by the gold lacquer holding the pieces together.

"I have." Hunter smiles. He had put a lot of thought into each of the gifts, and the origami animals that accompanied the notes.

"But there is a little selfishness here... I can do this one-handed." He smiles.

There are another few pieces laying nearby, if Jim wants to start his own project.

Jim is quiet a moment, not sure how to respond, old habits and newer impulses conflicting within him. He's spent a long time trying to fix himself alone. By necessity, by choice, it doesn't really matter. He'd thought he was dealing with it all okay, enough to keep going, enough to bury it all as deep as he could and never look at it again. Halloween proved him wrong.

Talking to his older counterpart had helped, secrets shared with the one person he feels he can truly trust with anything, their differences only casting greater clarity on what he'd done and seen and felt, a shared pain with the only one who would truly understand.

But now even the other captain has gone silent. And Jim has missed being around other people, people who know him and don't want to drive the knife deeper, like so many strangers do this time of year. People who care about James Tiberius Kirk, not the Kelvin baby, not George Kirk's son. Someone who has seen the brokenness inside of him and, instead of sweeping away the pieces, wants to find a way to fit them together again. Not exactly as it was before, scarred and patchwork, forever marked by the shattering, but whole.

"You can do it alone," he says at last, lifting his gaze to meet Hunter's, "but you shouldn't have to."

Edited 2017-12-29 13:49 (UTC)

Hunter nods. And pauses in his work to reach out to Jim and gently squeeze the other man's hand. "That is why I am glad I have support from my friends, and from you."

"I would have never been able to repair the apartment, like you guys did. You all took what was broken and made it beautiful again."

Jim's smile is faint, but real, and he squeezes Hunter's hand back. "It was a group effort." Home should always feel like a safe place. He knows, far too intimately, how it feels to have someone rip that away. But as the Enterprise has been slowly rebuilt and refitted under the watchful eye of Starfleet's Corps of Engineers, Jim wanted Hunter's apartment to experience that same kind of healing, creating something new from the ashes of what was destroyed.

After a moment, he adds, "There's a famous novel from the twenty-second century that revolves around the phrase 'let me help.' The author recommends those three little words, even over 'I love you.'"

"I was honestly afraid of coming back to this place... especially coming back alone. But you all helped me face my fears." Hunter reveals.

Hunter smiles, giving Jim's hand another squeeze. "I am so grateful for your help."

Jim holds Hunter's hand in his own, just glad to have this contact, no matter what horrible shit this year has put them through, together and separately. "It's all I want." Whatever he can do to help, whether it's as big as fixing up the apartment, or as small as helping put pottery back together, one piece at a time.

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