The Sound of Snow

Chapter Ten: "Ice Breaking"

Wincing he waded towards the concrete slab again, snapping branches and twigs in the process. Thorns and twigs stuck him in all the wrong places as he emerged on hands and knees at the foot of the concrete steps after wrestling the remaining metal spikes.

Groups of kids walked out to the scene, all chuckling at him but skipping on towards the sweet smelling pastries. The only ones to stop and acknowledge him were Ria Ryuuji and her friend Nagisa Yamito, the latter of which was snickering and taking a picture of him sprawled at their feet. A forced giggle played on Ryuuji-san's lips but it was more to good-naturedly humor her friends than actual delight at The Boy's expense. He locked eyes with her and wanted to vomit in mortification when she held out a hand to help him up. Jumping to his feet he snatched his skateboard where it had been kicked aside at the student bike lot and sped towards the road without a backwards glance.

Riding along he kept his head hung as he passed the back of the line to the baker's stand. Even if the old lady did recognize him, he wanted nothing to do with her or Ushio-kun or Ryuuji-san or anyone on this campus. He wanted to go home, lock himself in his room, and dwell over what an imbecile he made of himself in front of the same stupid pretty girl that couldn't stop giving him reasons to like her.

He didn't realized his name being called until the whole mob was silent and staring at him.

Throwing on his brakes, he froze. The old lady was waving him over. Not knowing and honestly not caring how she knew his name, he met the old lady's gaze. Looking from her to the crowd of kids watching him and whispering to each other, he glared at her again shaking his head stiffly. He was tired of sticking out like a sore thumb.

The lady just called his name again. "Come here, sweetheart! You're not going to leave an old lady to handle this hungry mob by herself, are you?"

The kids watched him in deathly silence.

Aggravated and already mortifed, he tugged away some thorns still buried in his collar and groin, pushing his way to the front of the line. All eyes on him. Many students grumbled, angrily questioning why he got to skip in line.

Rounding the counter and feeling the glare of his peers hating to be kept waiting, he stepped close to the baker preparing dishes to set out.

"What the hell do you want with me??" he whispered tersely.

"I want you to be my apprentice."

"Find someone else!" he fought to keep his voice low. "I've been teased all day long, people are pointing out my bruises again, and I'm not about to stand here in front of my whole class so they can tease me about hanging around an old prune-face too!"

The woman turned her back to the crowd so they couldn't see her or The Boy's faces. She took his hands in her wrinkled ones, her smile totally immune to his insults.

"Let me give you a piece of advice it took me way too long to pick up on:" she whispered seriously. "Sometimes the things we need the most are the same things we are most terrified of going after. Whether we pursue our needs or stay still affects every day of our lives."

The Boy's scowl softened a bit only to allow a flicker of confusion.

"I believe whole-heartedly that you are the one meant to be my apprentice, whether you accept my spirituality or not." She continued. "Keep rejecting me all you want. But I'll always need an apprentice. And if you let me, I'll always be here to let you know your needs don't have to be so far out of reach either."

The Boy avoided her warm eyes and snatched his hands away. "I'm not some helpless weakling, you know."

Then the old woman gave him a look so nurturing he thought for a second he was talking to his mother again.