Will this encounter be sweet or sour?

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She’d come too late. A shame, she thought – having at least a handful of patrons might have put the boy’s violent tendencies at bay. Then again, perhaps the threat of having the school’s biggest loudmouth lambast him and his business might do the same job. Such thoughts were briefly – but not completely – set aside as her target appeared. No older than herself, well presented, and definitely a mutant, judging by his eyes. Still, he looked… fine. Relatively normal. A far cry from the words ‘pre-meditated assault’ echoing in her head, but perhaps that was the point.[break][break]

Still. Reminding somebody or their past attacks was rarely a good opening line, so she’d have to put her thoughts elsewhere. At least he seemed to recognise her. Good, said the smile on her face. They could skip the introductions, and if he had half a brain, he’d know what she was there for. A girl like her didn’t stroll into an empty parlour on the shady side of town for fun. “To be honest, I thought that there’d be more people around at this time. I guess I don’t know what people get up to around here. My sources told me you run this place, though. I had a free evening and thought I might see what’s going on, ask some questions. You’ve got a few minutes to spare, don’t you?” A rhetorical question, or rather, one that was answered by a glance at the empty chairs. It was the pause she needed to realise just how chilly the room was. Normally, she didn’t mind the cold – all the better for her quirk. The air conditioning was a bit too much for spring’s weather though. It wasn’t too surprising that the place was empty if they kept cold air blasting all day long… But she’d wait to mention that.[break][break]

“Bit of a career turnaround. From aspiring hero to confectioner. What brought that about? Heck, why here? How here? …Or, how did you get here? A storefront in Shinjuku doesn’t come cheap, especially in Kabukichō.” Unless you know the right people, but she kept that part to herself too.[break][break]

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Most restaurants I walk into and receive a warm welcoming. Not this one, and not in the metaphorical sense. The place was unreasonably cold, and according to its owner, his mutation was to blame. With my urge to get comfortable dropping with the temperature, I asked about the life and times of Max Kane. [break][break]

There it was. Most of her marks saw her as little more than paparazzi, but they rarely outright spoke of their distaste. Most showed it in their body language, the way they looked down on her, the mutters under their breath. He earned half a chuckle for his bravery, which was more than he’d gotten for his quirk display. Showing off quirks was nothing new for a UA student, and she’d never been fond of cigarettes. “Most things in life won’t be fun… If you’ve already decided that they’re not going to be.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not forcing you to be here. Spoiler alert, I want to write something up for the school news, but with one ‘Maximillian declined to comment’, that article comes to an abrupt end.” A brief pause let that option sink in, and let Emi realise that she felt even colder. Was it really an unfortunate side effect, or just an effort to rush her out faster?[break][break]
She really should have asked somebody about the guy before she set out. [break][break]

“Alternatively, you can use this as an opportunity. No surprise that you left a bit of a rough impression when you left the school. So now, if anybody mentions your name, the story of why you aren’t around always follows. I don’t think there’s much I can do to change that, but, if you want, we can add to that. Show people that there’s more to the story. That’s the magic of the news. That is, of course, if you care about what a bunch of people you barely know think of you.” She lightly shrugged her shoulders. “You probably should, running a business and all, but I can’t force you either way. So.” She took a few steps over to stand before a table, leaning against it as she continued. “You don’t have to answer anything. You don’t even have to listen.” She didn’t mention, of course, that doing either could be even more damning than a bad response if she wanted it to be. “But I think we’ve both got something to gain from getting some answers.”[break][break]

With the easy questions and her proposal out of the way, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. A few taps later, she flipped it around to show the boy. A red circle and a timer counting up told that she had started recording their conversation. “You want to talk about that? The day you ‘lost your calm’? I’ve only heard what the teachers and other students had to say, and to be honest, it was nothing good.”

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He was hesitant at first – most people are when you throw an impromptu interview at them – but once I reminded him that I wasn’t his enemy, he let down his guard. At least, enough for me to start getting some real answers.[break][break]

‘Well, that was easy.’ Several dozen messages from her fellow students, spitting vitriol and criticism had almost convinced Emi that she had as much charm as a doorstop. Almost. She always had her fans to sway her mind, and of course, moments like these. A few truths eased the tension, and before she knew it, he was back in business. Warmth, food and drink. It was almost like she was a customer. No, a guest – which was far better than being treated like a door-to-door salesman. “Thanks for the service.” There was an edge of self-satisfaction to her words, and the half-smile, half-smirk wasn’t helping matters. Still, who was she to turn down free sweets? She took a seat, swapped her phone for the spoon on the table and brought a sample of the slice to her mouth.[break][break]

…Or she would have, if he hadn’t made a strange assumption. She furrowed her brow, eyes flicking from the food to the boy. Distaste took the place of complacency in her voice. “Correction. The alternative is an insane terrorist and murdered. I’ve got no interest in trying to share that guy’s story, even if I had the chance. Not after what he’s done. This isn’t about alternatives. I just thought there was a story to tell.” Slightly narrowed eyes lingered on him for a little too long. Not fierce enough to be threatening, or even concerning, but enough to deliver an unspoken warning: ‘Don’t insult me into regretting it.’[break][break]

Nobody had asked her to come, after all. The idea of an interview had been bounced around the club a few times – mostly by her – but nobody was eager to track down and hear out the violent racist drop-out. If she walked out of the diner with a bad impression, she doubted anybody would for a long time. It felt a bit too self-important to frame it that way, but as she spoke, she realised that this was his chance. His one chance to tell his side of the story, once the dust had settled. To be fair, most of it was information she’d either heard of inferred. Most gifted children were considered to ‘win’ the genetic lottery… When they could hide it. Turn it off. Pretend they were normal. Surrounded by people who didn’t understand that it wasn’t a choice, or didn’t want to understand, or didn’t care either way… Even Emi could see how anybody would crack eventually. It didn’t make anything he was saying acceptable, but relatable? Maybe a little. There probably wasn’t a single student at UA that hadn’t been given grief for being different…[break][break]

And she’d faced it a lot more than most.[break][break]

But the talk wasn’t about her. She was there to listen, let him speak his piece. Questions popped in and out of her held, but she held them and watched until he was done. There was a lot to learn from that. It looked like he was honest about the anger issues. Just talking about the incident was riling him up, and she didn’t want to think about how he’d act if he wasn’t smoking. She’d have to ask about that later. The remorse was there too, clear as day. She’d had no doubt that he might regret what he’d done (her own feelings on Yoruhi aside), but to see him cry was… unexpected. A little voice in the back of her head giggled at the frozen tears, but the rest of her quirked a brow at the sight.[break][break]

…Oh, and the cake was pretty nice too.[break][break]

She let the silence hang in the air for a few seconds. While she’d (mostly) maintained a calm expression, she had something of a reputation for speaking too quickly and offending everybody around her. Their talk was already emotionally charged, and it wouldn’t take much to tip it into hostile territory. When she answered, there were no kind words for him, and barely a sympathetic tone. “…If there’s one thing I’m good for, it’s making sure people hear my messages. If there’s something you want to say to the students, now’s a good time. In fact, it might be the only time.” She wouldn’t outright say ‘apologise now’, but short of his victim walking into the diner himself, how else was he going to let him know how he felt?[break][break]

“Besides that, there’s a few questions your story brings up. I don’t want to make assumptions, but it’d be best for people that don’t know you to get the full story, so I’m just coming to come out with them. You say that you were harassed by normal people for… months? You don’t sound like a native. Did people with quirks get treated better where you’re from?” A very slight tilt of her head indicated confusion, though she was careful to stop it from looking patronising. “And even then, are you saying you didn’t get the same treatment from people with quirks? I’d get – hope – that the students at UA were more understanding, but they aren’t everybody.”[break][break]

“Either way, it sounds like you’ve changed your mind about average people.” She’d avoided placing people into the boxes of ‘quirked’ and quirkless’ for some reason. “I don’t think your story explained why. Maybe I missed something, but for clarity’s sake: have you changed your views, and why?”

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Either she was full of surprises that night, or she'd already had a reputation in the brief time her and Maximillian shared at U.A. He seemed to have ideas of her beyond the norm - the paparazzi that most thought of her in passing. No morals, no courtesy and a bigger nose than a brain. Was it really so strange that a junior investigator paid attention to words? The words of a boy she'd sought out to listen to, no less?[break][break]

"Picking up on things makes my job a lot easier, and a lot more interesting. I wouldn't be getting very far if my work only covered the surface of a story." There was always more, if one was willing to dig deeper. He made an example of that with his tale of foreign lands. She'd only been to England once, years before. She'd been much more concerned with buying her new wardrobe than the way the world perceived the mutant freaks her family was trying so hard to distance her from. Nothing he said contradicted what she'd seen (largely because she hadn't been paying attention), but the cultural difference was a curious one. She'd had to look into that some time, especially considering that England was one of the few countries progressive enough to have a hero school.[break][break]

Another spoonful of cake popped into her mouth as she listened. No tears fell, and his cigarette remained intact, but it was his words that gave away his emotions. Slang terms that sounded too formal for casual Japanese, or barely made sense at all in their language, betrayed what had to be a deep-seated resentment for his treatment. Yet again, she couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. She could blame him for the extremist conclusion he’d drawn from it, but there was, at least, some string of logic joining the dots, with some insight at the end. Where harsh words, punishment and ostracizing failed, long-term exposure to the ‘other’ went a long way towards stamping out discrimination. Good news for a girl pumping out pro-quirker propaganda, and an interesting case study for future delinquents at U.A.[break][break]

…[break]
Oh, he was done? She’d been enjoying the hot chocolate when he asked, and she continued to do so for a few more seconds. Partly because it was really nice, and partly because it helped her fill the time. Did she have anything left to ask? Nothing that she could say without sounding accusatory, and she couldn’t do that. Not when she’d made so much progress with him. ‘Strong negotiator’ was so vague that it almost hurt, but she hadn’t come to interrogate his business methods. “No, I think that’s everything. If you’ve got any last comments you’d like to add then go ahead, but if not, thanks for your time.” A finger hovered over her phone – specifically, the ‘stop recording’ button. He had one last chance to send a message to his old friends, make an invitation, a promise, an apology… But if a few seconds of silence was all he offered, then she ended the recording.[break][break]

“That should do it. Get your side of the story out to the school, especially the new students. From what I saw in the chat, there’s probably a few students that won’t be convinced. Some of the older ones that were there on that day seem to feel very passionately about you. Maybe they’ll want to see you for themselves. Actions speak louder than words and all that.” She barely looked at her phone as she tapped away, mainly to give her chauffeur the all-clear and a summons. If the police stopped by Kane’s Kandy, it wouldn’t be on her orders. “A few won’t care either way. Unfortunately, a bad reputation is hard to get rid of, but I think this is a step in the right direction.”[break][break]

A few more sips and the drink was gone, as was all but a few crumbs of her cake. Fast eating must have been one of her hidden talents. “Better to do something than nothing, at least. Most sensible people will recognise that and start asking their own questions. What happens from there is up to you.” And one way or another, she was sure she’d hear about it. Until then, her job at the restaurant was done. “Thanks again. Seriously. Not everybody takes kindly to a surprise interview. I mean, I guess you didn’t either at first, but you still did better than most.” There had to be a story behind the smirk that accompanied her words, but that was for another time. “Article should go up soon-ish, if I can keep on top of my work. Keep an eye on U.A. Today’s website – or just wait for the messages to start rolling in from your classmates.” She made her way to the door, phone in hand, belly filled and half an article already written in her head. It’d take a bit of work, but the boy would be thrust into the spotlight again. For better reasons this time around. “Nice meeting you. Good luck with your business, and whatever comes out of this.” If she went without interruption, she’d let herself out of the store. What had she made of him? The article would reveal that soon enough.

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