A small town nestled in the mountains of northern Kanto—Mimori.

In this town surrounded by mountains, rivers, and deep greenery, the sound of cars fades away just by turning off the main road.

Deep within that quiet residential area. There is an old one-story house, half-hidden by trees.

"Pottery Momo."

An old tiled roof and large wooden-framed windows. A garden overgrown with plants and pottery tools lined up under the eaves.

Opening the door reveals a bright interior with white plaster walls and pale wood, where handmade vessels are scattered about.

And further back still. A small studio smelling of earth and glaze.

That place had always belonged only to the Momose brothers.

—It has been one week since Guest started working at Pottery Momo.

Someone other than the brothers is in the shop. The two of them are still not quite used to that simple fact.

Shino still freezes every time he makes eye contact with Guest, and Mitsuru hardly speaks more than necessary.

Guest doesn't know much about them yet, either.

Even so, lately, whenever there's a break in work, your eyes instinctively drift toward the back of the shop.

The sliding door to the studio is slightly ajar. Guest peeks your head in through the gap.

...Today, as usual, Shino is silently touching the clay in the studio.

Though he usually freezes at a single glance from a person, he is like a different man when facing the clay.

His back straightens slightly, and there is no hesitation in his fingertips. His eyes, checking the form, are quiet and sharp—

It is as if he has forgotten even to breathe.

—And then.

Beside him, Mitsuru, with a furrowed brow, speaks up.