[ He minds. He minds, but insists on humoring their dialogue of muted caution. Implications of her awareness are dismissed, and Goro develops his own set of allusions in attempt to have her just come right out and say it: what she knows, and the offered ultimatum in exchange for her silence. But Haru's a tenacious thorn in his side, staunch in her subtle stance of interrogator -- just wanting the truth in order to, somehow, protect her father from what may come to be, or she's just stringing him along on a merciless ride to his upcoming downfall as long as he doesn't do as she says.
That's how people have always been -- in the past, presently so. But he shouldn't be dwelling right now, getting lost in his head when there is something to be done. ]
Suspicion will only paint its target on my back. As far as everybody else is concerned, we've never held any personal intrigue for one another. It's not what I was told, but what I've witnessed firsthand.
[ Chair legs disturb the quiet, scraping along the tiled floors in a slight, screeching halt; she's unnervingly resilient, and his quirk doesn't seem to have much of an effect on her memory upon his readied ""disappearance"": she remembers when everybody else so willingly forgets. ]
Allow me to set the stage, Okumura-san. [ Here, Goro lifts his appointed seat from the ground before smoothly situating it right next to her. Their arms nearly brushed, but he's quick to withdraw, offering her desk a few light taps, like a childlike attempt to redirect her focus back to him again as he takes those backward steps away. ]
I apologize. This may be quite imposing. But all I require from you is to move as if you're reaching out to someone right next to you. An easy enough task, right?
[ Audible tones grow faint partway through with every word, his immediate presence becoming nebulous, something meant to impart uncertainty and a lapse of cognizance. If Haru decides to follow through, Goro will be seated on the aforementioned chair -- legs crossed with his hands resting on his lap. His head is turned towards her though -- wary and curiously observant.
An awful little thought blossoms: did it even matter if she knew? Would anyone believe her anyway? ]
[ Once again, Haru learns nothing on the surface. She doesn't know what Father's work entails behind closed doors, though she can guess from media interviews and his increasingly cagey behavior, just as she doesn't know why one of her classmates would be rifling through his things. (Father's things, not hers because Haru, for all of her quiet and secluded mannerisms, has always been an open book.)
She can't help the soft, quiet sigh escaping her lips as she clutches onto her sweater. That line of questioning hadn't worked - and she should've known. Idle gossip and classroom chatter was beneath him, or at least something he pretended was beneath him. Worse, all of her interrogation methods come from TV, and from listening to Mako-chan rant whenever they watch increasingly inane - and apparently inaccurate - procedural dramas. She lacks the knowledge to interrogate someone, let alone drag out that one nugget of information she so desperately wants.
Whatever line she would've chosen next is forgotten at the sound of that tapping, and she flinches, redirecting her focus exactly where he wants them. He's standing in front of her, yet she has to simply touch the space next to her? Not in front? ]
Oh, you're fine. If that's all you require of me for the time being... [ he's not fine, but he's set the tempo, and she's going to lean into that tempo and power through. A real lady would oblige his request, right? She lets go of her sweater, steeling herself for any potential impact or recoil as she extends her arm towards the seat beside her. ] Here goes -
[ She expects to feel nothing. At most, empty air she can bat away, yet, in the blink of an eye, Akechi-kun's moved to that very same seat.
If he only needs his mind to predict the future, then he shouldn't be able to hide his presence like this in plain sight. It's a clever trick; one she wishes she had, when she wants to escape her mandated social outings and grand balls. Intangibility? Invisibility? Some weird combination of the two? Haru twists her lips in confusion, pulling back only so that she doesn't touch his hair, or worse, his face, by accident.
She's never been this close to him, let alone any of their male classmates, before. It's a weird realization, one that makes her breath hitch with uncertainty. ]
Strange. [ she furrows her brow, ] But you did that vanishing trick again. Like it was all one big illusion...
Edited (rip your inbox, i'm v sorrymannerisms, has always been an open book.) She can't help the soft, quiet sigh escaping her lips as she clutches onto her sweater. That line of questioning hadn't worked - and she should've known. Idle gossip and classroom cha) 2019-01-11 08:35 (UTC)
[ A forward approach so unlike his usual clandestine tactics -- but it answers more than enough: that bit of solidity, encountered by her fingertips, begins to flare outward, collapsing into a glitch of a recalled composition of his physical structure.
Goro settles into view of his own accord, again, doesn't flinch out of his seat at that instant discovery; he stays put without much of a slouch in his posture, though his knuckles blanch as his grip tightens around his own hand. Not the reaction he was expecting; the utter absence of mind games, gradually exposed pretense of a guileless conduct, and that final offering of a deal grudgingly struck never did sit right. It's odd being on the opposite end of something awfully ingenuous, without the tell-tale signs of orchestrated blackmail. Suspicious, even then. ]
Aren't we all to a certain degree?
[ "Illusions", multi-faceted like they are all born to be, with a medley of aspects to showcase and adjust to their personal liking. There isn't a need for an elaboration either way; they're one of the few school mysteries, up there with the supposed ghost sightings around the city block. Neither of them made much of an effort to deny or affirm progressing gossip. But, small talk isn't the purpose behind his abrupt reveal, all that resistance coming to naught -- because Goro Akechi will always create his own end in little increments, if not in full. ]
I didn't like the way you made me feel back then. [ The projected sedation of heightened nerves, always remembering in his festering anger what has become of his mother, his life that went downhill since her passing. ]
But I don't suppose you're inclined to share the extent of your quirk with me. Perhaps this is satisfactory enough for the both of us. So let's cut to the chase, Okumura-san. What is it that you want?
[ Haru falls silent. She feels that growing temptation to apologize, to smooth over her indiscretion with a heartfelt apology. She hadn't meant to unsettle him, let alone sense his presence. Their paths hadn't meant to cross outside of their classroom walls, and she - well, she had meant to force this conversation out of him. That might've been the only purposeful action she had performed in the past 48 hours.
Yet he might just be the first person in a long, long time who's asked her what she wants - even if it's the context of the information she seeks. (No one ever asks. Not even for mundane things. Her wants and needs have always been answered for her, rather than something she has had any agency whatsoever over.)
So she stares back at him, blinking back surprise and trying to regain what remains of her composure. Haru's never been able to hide, not even for a moment, but right now - she kind of wishes she could turn invisible. She can't even manipulate her empathy right. ]
I'm sorry. About the way I made you feel, I mean. [ Because she's not sorry about forcing the truth out of him. ] I just... I want to know what you were doing in Father's office yesterday.
[ No point in dancing around the subject anymore. Haru lays out her last card, shrugging her shoulders in defeat. ]
[ Her apology prompts clarification of an earlier statement. But, it's noted right away, that absent balm that forced nettled resentment to retreat before, tucked away like a forgotten thing. So Goro holds his tongue, doesn't bother to correct the fault or revise the curious theory around the mystery of her quirk. Instead -- a moment's pause before a question's delivery: ]
... I've a feeling that you've an inkling as to why anyone would brave through innumerable security measures to reach the heart of your father's office. Unless you're not particularly privy of your father's activities from behind the scenes?
[ During that brief interim of quiet, the chair is returned to its appropriate desk. This time, Goro doesn't take another seat upon an unmoved, nearby one; his back is against the wall now, arms loosely crossed, distance renewed; watchful eyes are steel and vigilant on the classroom doors every now and then, though at this point, even far beyond the dialogue they'll share today, she has his undivided attention. ]
Your family name has quite the social standing in this country... but it hasn't always been that way, has it?
[ If Haru wasn't squirming before, she sure is now. Years of scrutiny under Father's gaze - under his judgmental eye, harsh temper, wild mood swings - hasn't bothered her before, but for some reason, Akechi-kun's attention digs under her skin in a way that little else has.
Maybe it's because he questions the illegality of her father's funds, let alone the oddity of his rise through the ranks - or maybe it's because she can't discern his feelings. Whatever it is, she can at least tell that their paths will intersect for a while to come (and not just because they were classmates). ]
No, it hasn't. It's only been in the last few years that Okumura Foods has gained its status and reputation...
[ She tip-toes around her father's activities - for one thing, she doesn't know the specifics. Father's been too careful to give her plausible deniability (and even she can't ignore how his secrecy must've been to protect her). For another, even if Akechi-kun's confirmed her suspicions, she isn't in a position to hand over Father's secrets. Those, one would have to pry over her father's cold body. ]
That said, it has been a family business for generations. Grandfather's vision was, ah, different from what Father created, and in turn... [ she hesitates, before going ahead and saying so - ] I suppose mine will be something else entirely.
[ His own father held a callous regard towards the prospective heiress, could hardly deign to consider her with a modicum of interest, not enough to recall the shape of her name when spoken aloud, the fact that Kunikazu Okumura has a child to return home to, check up on with some measure of concern, always in some relation to his ongoing ambitions. So it wasn't something worth a careful analysis: Okumura Foods, its history exhumed for the selectively inquisitive -- up until a certain detective prince underwent an accidental run-in with the latest generation's daughter herself. ]
Something else entirely that will exceed those who have come before you, I assume? It's been said once before [ ... by a philosopher, no less; paraphrased by yours truly, Goro Akechi. ] that the past can be perceived as a voluminous outline, summarizing the errors of mankind that will instruct those in the future to avoid what has already been done before, along with the personalized downfall it might bring. Results may as well vary, still. People, as a whole, are not so linear, after all.
[ Another archived thought will argue that the past's circumstances are peculiar, uniquely its own, to the point where humanity may only learn if certain cues and conditions are directly involved with them and nothing more. But, Akechi silences the thought, cynical and scoffing, leaving the cheeky delivery as is: somewhat hopeful, even in its glum reality.
Haru's unease is clear; because the topic orbited her father or she's the expected confidant to Kunikazu's business affairs -- he wasn't sure. If it was the former -- well. Time will certainly tell how Goro will react to their shared likeness. Until then, it's not reassurance he provides regardless of how he does it well, overlooking the self-contained disquiet held within the girl; it's -- ]
Well, I'm sure this scenario wasn't staged just to finalize it with a paraphrased lecture. What I've shown you has answered a number of your questions... I can only hope that may be the case, at least. The knowledge I've unveiled to you debunks the circulating rumors of my supposed omnipresence and autonomy in how I go about my investigations. There's one mystery left unsolved between you and I, however...
[ -- the prelude of a bargain, a bluff, most likely. ]
[ Exceed might be a little strong for her dream, though she can understand the sentiment. In business, in any financial undertaking in a capitalistic society, profits are all that matter. The safety of employees, or the quality of life for those under the CEO, are a second thought at best, and considered disposable at worst. Father had never spoken strongly of those working on the ground floor at his burger shops, let alone those designing his marketing campaigns - Instead, he would board himself up in his office and make phone call after phone call, all while insisting it was for her own good.
Haru never understood how the two - her safety and the business's unethical profit - were hand-in-hand, but she couldn't fight her father. Her dream was more humble: a local cafe, with employees who want to be there and who want to support her, and with a menu that everyone loves. A welcoming, comforting atmosphere, and as many flowers as the eye could see.
True, she could open it right now, as one of her Father's vanity projects, but then the world wouldn't take her seriously. She needed to study, to understand how successful cafes operated and maintained both profits and loyalty - and, she supposes, to take advice like Akechi-kun's to heart. The past informs the present, and in turn, the present informs the future.
Yet when he brings up the last lingering mystery, she intertwines her fingers, forcing herself to sit straight. She can't show weakness, even as she's both curious and hesitant. ]
Really? [ she's stumped, but also willing to hear him out - ] And what mystery would that be, Akechi-kun?
[ Outside point of views have always been easier to discern than showcasing his own. Goro starts there: ]
It's rare to encounter anyone who considers it odd. Perhaps you're one of those few exceptions. [ At long last, Goro moves: he fetches his bag, tugging at the laptop sheltered within. Booted up, accompanied by a few taps across the keyboard, an opened browser window afterward -- he sets the item down carefully atop her desk, presenting a news article near the start of his lawful career. ]
You're free to look around beyond what's shown to you, Okumura-san.
[ And if Haru chooses to do so, she'll find that the comment sections in particular are littered with stupefied bafflement; each editorial piece held an audience that referenced deja vu or difficulty recalling that someone like Goro Akechi has ever existed. It begins to wane if she edges closer towards the more recent column, an implication that he began to establish better control over his Quirk or he's just toying with the populace to better recognize the extent of his own capabilities. Even then, there's always that one wayward reply that held residual reminders of being so easily forgotten. ]
Physical contact isn't the end-all for Quirks like mine. It's an obstacle, but hardly a detrimental one. Sensei, on the other hand... [ He won't elaborate regardless of the harmless, amused lilt. Haru will piece it together eventually or she's already well aware of it; their teacher and his poor, newly found severely dry eyes -- the moment he steps out of that classroom door, it's like Akechi readily decides that he's not in the mood to receive the attention of their fellow peers, blathering on about being classmates with a celebrity; he ceases to "exist" in their memory, up until their teacher walks back in, languidly relaxed, tired gaze, somewhat irritated, pointed right at him in regular intervals. ]
I appreciate your approach to an uncanny situation like this, Okumura-san. It's earnest and refreshingly upfront. That's why I'd like to return the favor and honor your efforts. The alternative wouldn't be very pleasant, and I'm sure you wouldn't be appreciative of secretive tactics being used against you, so...
[ Snooping around behind her back, discovering more than what he ought to. Moving on, though: ]
Shall I make an educated guess? The reason why you remember that I was ever there at all.
[ Is she really an exception if she's one of the few, poor Aizawa-sensei aside, who's witnessed his quirk enough to call it strange? Haru can't think of any guesses in their class betting pool that were remotely close to right - they had all been off. They all missed the bullseye.
She can't say she's hitting the target either, but she peers at his laptop, skimming the article with curiosity. Even though Akechi's given her permission, Haru still glances back at him before she moves on - ] Is this okay?
[ she waits for an yes, or something in the affirmative, before diving further, keeping two fingers close to the trackpad and trying her best to stay exactly on the news site. Some of these editors, like a certain Agnes Joubert from Heroes TV, sure have Opinions, and others are simply baffled. She can't blame them. Their own class is baffled, and class 3-A has had the pleasure of working and studying alongside him for the past two years!
At the mention of poor Sensei, Haru laughs, her concentration broken as she shoots a small smile at him. Time after time, she's seen it - complete with Aizawa-sensei's grumbling - and she still has no idea how Akechi manages it. Yet Sensei hasn't threatened to expel him, so he's probably in the clear?
She turns her entire body towards him once she's finished, choosing to face him head-on, and folds her hands in her lap. Once again, Haru's an open book: she wears her heart on her sleeve and uses her powers to ease people. Her father, on the other hand, has more than a few padlocks rattling around, and she'd rather not have prying hands force them open. So she acquiesces. ]
Fair enough. I appreciate your discretion, Akechi-kun. [ she doesn't, but she doesn't seem to have a choice. ] As to that educated guess... I don't see why not. I wouldn't make heads or tails of it on my own.
[ There's always a lie to fall back onto -- tailor every word and sound to his own personal liking, make it convincing. But how long has it been since Goro has last been approached like this? With an open invitation of a mental challenge than something surreptitious, haphazardly done. Haru's framed with prudent honesty, methods opting towards a forward address than dragging loose ends into the forefront by way of absent-minded duplicity. He didn't like it, being exposed, held under a microscopic lens for study, but someone so removed from underhanded machinations is already remarkable in itself. So Goro decides on a gamble, an offering of the truth: ]
I've conjectures and nothing more, unfortunately. Aside from the obvious case, [ of Aizawa,those of similar or more lethal Quirks. ] it's a first that someone was able to retain memories of my being around after a disagreeable encounter. Even at the flip side of that outcome, it isn't much of a feat to evade their attention and cognition if they've thought to seek me out, much like you have.
[ No malice. Goro recites every line like he's reading off of an academic page. Hardly monotonous, still; there's an occasional lilt marking his undisclosed puzzlement. ]
There's a particular schema that I can go off of... After all, they do say that emotions strongly influences how we all remember certain events throughout our lives.
[ And if this is a cue for Haru to out her own Quirk -- well, he isn't holding his breath. But if she'd like to carry on with a tidbit of her own... ]
Haru exhales, allowing herself some momentary relief. She had planned to tell him earlier, back when she had said that her quirk required touch, literal skin-to-skin contact, for anything to unfold. Despite that, however, she refused to wear gloves. She told herself she would power through; long sweaters and tights would be enough. Clearly it hadn't, given that she's with Akechi discussing her quirk, but the thought had been nice.
Most people didn't pay her much attention, and she liked the feel of metal keys, of their wooden desks, of even pencils held between her fingers to think about additional fabric to separate her from the world.
But he had suggested a curious theory, and like a naive kitten, Haru would tug on those strings until something unravels.
She nods, her expression softening: ] Right. My quirk is all about empathy - about feeling what a person does every time I touch them. Like a living lie detector, I guess? I can demonstrate it again, but if what you experienced yesterday is a first...
[ a dangerous first, given his line of work. No wonder he had been spooked...
Of course, she holds back on some aspects: namely, manipulation, and the few times she had managed to lessen someone's pain through sheer willpower. Haru can't control those. It wouldn't make sense to bring them up, unless again, he had already suspected such a thing. ]
Then I suspect that it may be for the best to hold back for the time being.
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no subject
That's how people have always been -- in the past, presently so. But he shouldn't be dwelling right now, getting lost in his head when there is something to be done. ]
Suspicion will only paint its target on my back. As far as everybody else is concerned, we've never held any personal intrigue for one another. It's not what I was told, but what I've witnessed firsthand.
[ Chair legs disturb the quiet, scraping along the tiled floors in a slight, screeching halt; she's unnervingly resilient, and his quirk doesn't seem to have much of an effect on her memory upon his readied ""disappearance"": she remembers when everybody else so willingly forgets. ]
Allow me to set the stage, Okumura-san. [ Here, Goro lifts his appointed seat from the ground before smoothly situating it right next to her. Their arms nearly brushed, but he's quick to withdraw, offering her desk a few light taps, like a childlike attempt to redirect her focus back to him again as he takes those backward steps away. ]
I apologize. This may be quite imposing. But all I require from you is to move as if you're reaching out to someone right next to you. An easy enough task, right?
[ Audible tones grow faint partway through with every word, his immediate presence becoming nebulous, something meant to impart uncertainty and a lapse of cognizance. If Haru decides to follow through, Goro will be seated on the aforementioned chair -- legs crossed with his hands resting on his lap. His head is turned towards her though -- wary and curiously observant.
An awful little thought blossoms: did it even matter if she knew? Would anyone believe her anyway? ]
no subject
She can't help the soft, quiet sigh escaping her lips as she clutches onto her sweater. That line of questioning hadn't worked - and she should've known. Idle gossip and classroom chatter was beneath him, or at least something he pretended was beneath him. Worse, all of her interrogation methods come from TV, and from listening to Mako-chan rant whenever they watch increasingly inane - and apparently inaccurate - procedural dramas. She lacks the knowledge to interrogate someone, let alone drag out that one nugget of information she so desperately wants.
Whatever line she would've chosen next is forgotten at the sound of that tapping, and she flinches, redirecting her focus exactly where he wants them. He's standing in front of her, yet she has to simply touch the space next to her? Not in front? ]
Oh, you're fine. If that's all you require of me for the time being... [ he's not fine, but he's set the tempo, and she's going to lean into that tempo and power through. A real lady would oblige his request, right? She lets go of her sweater, steeling herself for any potential impact or recoil as she extends her arm towards the seat beside her. ] Here goes -
[ She expects to feel nothing. At most, empty air she can bat away, yet, in the blink of an eye, Akechi-kun's moved to that very same seat.
If he only needs his mind to predict the future, then he shouldn't be able to hide his presence like this in plain sight. It's a clever trick; one she wishes she had, when she wants to escape her mandated social outings and grand balls. Intangibility? Invisibility? Some weird combination of the two? Haru twists her lips in confusion, pulling back only so that she doesn't touch his hair, or worse, his face, by accident.
She's never been this close to him, let alone any of their male classmates, before. It's a weird realization, one that makes her breath hitch with uncertainty. ]
Strange. [ she furrows her brow, ] But you did that vanishing trick again. Like it was all one big illusion...
no subject
Goro settles into view of his own accord, again, doesn't flinch out of his seat at that instant discovery; he stays put without much of a slouch in his posture, though his knuckles blanch as his grip tightens around his own hand. Not the reaction he was expecting; the utter absence of mind games, gradually exposed pretense of a guileless conduct, and that final offering of a deal grudgingly struck never did sit right. It's odd being on the opposite end of something awfully ingenuous, without the tell-tale signs of orchestrated blackmail. Suspicious, even then. ]
Aren't we all to a certain degree?
[ "Illusions", multi-faceted like they are all born to be, with a medley of aspects to showcase and adjust to their personal liking. There isn't a need for an elaboration either way; they're one of the few school mysteries, up there with the supposed ghost sightings around the city block. Neither of them made much of an effort to deny or affirm progressing gossip. But, small talk isn't the purpose behind his abrupt reveal, all that resistance coming to naught -- because Goro Akechi will always create his own end in little increments, if not in full. ]
I didn't like the way you made me feel back then. [ The projected sedation of heightened nerves, always remembering in his festering anger what has become of his mother, his life that went downhill since her passing. ]
But I don't suppose you're inclined to share the extent of your quirk with me. Perhaps this is satisfactory enough for the both of us. So let's cut to the chase, Okumura-san. What is it that you want?
no subject
Yet he might just be the first person in a long, long time who's asked her what she wants - even if it's the context of the information she seeks. (No one ever asks. Not even for mundane things. Her wants and needs have always been answered for her, rather than something she has had any agency whatsoever over.)
So she stares back at him, blinking back surprise and trying to regain what remains of her composure. Haru's never been able to hide, not even for a moment, but right now - she kind of wishes she could turn invisible. She can't even manipulate her empathy right. ]
I'm sorry. About the way I made you feel, I mean. [ Because she's not sorry about forcing the truth out of him. ] I just... I want to know what you were doing in Father's office yesterday.
[ No point in dancing around the subject anymore. Haru lays out her last card, shrugging her shoulders in defeat. ]
That's all. Nothing more, nothing less.
no subject
... I've a feeling that you've an inkling as to why anyone would brave through innumerable security measures to reach the heart of your father's office. Unless you're not particularly privy of your father's activities from behind the scenes?
[ During that brief interim of quiet, the chair is returned to its appropriate desk. This time, Goro doesn't take another seat upon an unmoved, nearby one; his back is against the wall now, arms loosely crossed, distance renewed; watchful eyes are steel and vigilant on the classroom doors every now and then, though at this point, even far beyond the dialogue they'll share today, she has his undivided attention. ]
Your family name has quite the social standing in this country... but it hasn't always been that way, has it?
no subject
Maybe it's because he questions the illegality of her father's funds, let alone the oddity of his rise through the ranks - or maybe it's because she can't discern his feelings. Whatever it is, she can at least tell that their paths will intersect for a while to come (and not just because they were classmates). ]
No, it hasn't. It's only been in the last few years that Okumura Foods has gained its status and reputation...
[ She tip-toes around her father's activities - for one thing, she doesn't know the specifics. Father's been too careful to give her plausible deniability (and even she can't ignore how his secrecy must've been to protect her). For another, even if Akechi-kun's confirmed her suspicions, she isn't in a position to hand over Father's secrets. Those, one would have to pry over her father's cold body. ]
That said, it has been a family business for generations. Grandfather's vision was, ah, different from what Father created, and in turn... [ she hesitates, before going ahead and saying so - ] I suppose mine will be something else entirely.
no subject
Something else entirely that will exceed those who have come before you, I assume? It's been said once before [ ... by a philosopher, no less; paraphrased by yours truly, Goro Akechi. ] that the past can be perceived as a voluminous outline, summarizing the errors of mankind that will instruct those in the future to avoid what has already been done before, along with the personalized downfall it might bring. Results may as well vary, still. People, as a whole, are not so linear, after all.
[ Another archived thought will argue that the past's circumstances are peculiar, uniquely its own, to the point where humanity may only learn if certain cues and conditions are directly involved with them and nothing more. But, Akechi silences the thought, cynical and scoffing, leaving the cheeky delivery as is: somewhat hopeful, even in its glum reality.
Haru's unease is clear; because the topic orbited her father or she's the expected confidant to Kunikazu's business affairs -- he wasn't sure. If it was the former -- well. Time will certainly tell how Goro will react to their shared likeness. Until then, it's not reassurance he provides regardless of how he does it well, overlooking the self-contained disquiet held within the girl; it's -- ]
Well, I'm sure this scenario wasn't staged just to finalize it with a paraphrased lecture. What I've shown you has answered a number of your questions... I can only hope that may be the case, at least. The knowledge I've unveiled to you debunks the circulating rumors of my supposed omnipresence and autonomy in how I go about my investigations. There's one mystery left unsolved between you and I, however...
[ -- the prelude of a bargain, a bluff, most likely. ]
no subject
Haru never understood how the two - her safety and the business's unethical profit - were hand-in-hand, but she couldn't fight her father. Her dream was more humble: a local cafe, with employees who want to be there and who want to support her, and with a menu that everyone loves. A welcoming, comforting atmosphere, and as many flowers as the eye could see.
True, she could open it right now, as one of her Father's vanity projects, but then the world wouldn't take her seriously. She needed to study, to understand how successful cafes operated and maintained both profits and loyalty - and, she supposes, to take advice like Akechi-kun's to heart. The past informs the present, and in turn, the present informs the future.
Yet when he brings up the last lingering mystery, she intertwines her fingers, forcing herself to sit straight. She can't show weakness, even as she's both curious and hesitant. ]
Really? [ she's stumped, but also willing to hear him out - ] And what mystery would that be, Akechi-kun?
no subject
It's rare to encounter anyone who considers it odd. Perhaps you're one of those few exceptions. [ At long last, Goro moves: he fetches his bag, tugging at the laptop sheltered within. Booted up, accompanied by a few taps across the keyboard, an opened browser window afterward -- he sets the item down carefully atop her desk, presenting a news article near the start of his lawful career. ]
You're free to look around beyond what's shown to you, Okumura-san.
[ And if Haru chooses to do so, she'll find that the comment sections in particular are littered with stupefied bafflement; each editorial piece held an audience that referenced deja vu or difficulty recalling that someone like Goro Akechi has ever existed. It begins to wane if she edges closer towards the more recent column, an implication that he began to establish better control over his Quirk or he's just toying with the populace to better recognize the extent of his own capabilities. Even then, there's always that one wayward reply that held residual reminders of being so easily forgotten. ]
Physical contact isn't the end-all for Quirks like mine. It's an obstacle, but hardly a detrimental one. Sensei, on the other hand... [ He won't elaborate regardless of the harmless, amused lilt. Haru will piece it together eventually or she's already well aware of it; their teacher and his poor, newly found severely dry eyes -- the moment he steps out of that classroom door, it's like Akechi readily decides that he's not in the mood to receive the attention of their fellow peers, blathering on about being classmates with a celebrity; he ceases to "exist" in their memory, up until their teacher walks back in, languidly relaxed, tired gaze, somewhat irritated, pointed right at him in regular intervals. ]
I appreciate your approach to an uncanny situation like this, Okumura-san. It's earnest and refreshingly upfront. That's why I'd like to return the favor and honor your efforts. The alternative wouldn't be very pleasant, and I'm sure you wouldn't be appreciative of secretive tactics being used against you, so...
[ Snooping around behind her back, discovering more than what he ought to. Moving on, though: ]
Shall I make an educated guess? The reason why you remember that I was ever there at all.
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She can't say she's hitting the target either, but she peers at his laptop, skimming the article with curiosity. Even though Akechi's given her permission, Haru still glances back at him before she moves on - ] Is this okay?
[ she waits for an yes, or something in the affirmative, before diving further, keeping two fingers close to the trackpad and trying her best to stay exactly on the news site. Some of these editors, like a certain Agnes Joubert from Heroes TV, sure have Opinions, and others are simply baffled. She can't blame them. Their own class is baffled, and class 3-A has had the pleasure of working and studying alongside him for the past two years!
At the mention of poor Sensei, Haru laughs, her concentration broken as she shoots a small smile at him. Time after time, she's seen it - complete with Aizawa-sensei's grumbling - and she still has no idea how Akechi manages it. Yet Sensei hasn't threatened to expel him, so he's probably in the clear?
She turns her entire body towards him once she's finished, choosing to face him head-on, and folds her hands in her lap. Once again, Haru's an open book: she wears her heart on her sleeve and uses her powers to ease people. Her father, on the other hand, has more than a few padlocks rattling around, and she'd rather not have prying hands force them open. So she acquiesces. ]
Fair enough. I appreciate your discretion, Akechi-kun. [ she doesn't, but she doesn't seem to have a choice. ] As to that educated guess... I don't see why not. I wouldn't make heads or tails of it on my own.
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I've conjectures and nothing more, unfortunately. Aside from the obvious case, [ of Aizawa,those of similar or more lethal Quirks. ] it's a first that someone was able to retain memories of my being around after a disagreeable encounter. Even at the flip side of that outcome, it isn't much of a feat to evade their attention and cognition if they've thought to seek me out, much like you have.
[ No malice. Goro recites every line like he's reading off of an academic page. Hardly monotonous, still; there's an occasional lilt marking his undisclosed puzzlement. ]
There's a particular schema that I can go off of... After all, they do say that emotions strongly influences how we all remember certain events throughout our lives.
[ And if this is a cue for Haru to out her own Quirk -- well, he isn't holding his breath. But if she'd like to carry on with a tidbit of her own... ]
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Haru exhales, allowing herself some momentary relief. She had planned to tell him earlier, back when she had said that her quirk required touch, literal skin-to-skin contact, for anything to unfold. Despite that, however, she refused to wear gloves. She told herself she would power through; long sweaters and tights would be enough. Clearly it hadn't, given that she's with Akechi discussing her quirk, but the thought had been nice.
Most people didn't pay her much attention, and she liked the feel of metal keys, of their wooden desks, of even pencils held between her fingers to think about additional fabric to separate her from the world.
But he had suggested a curious theory, and like a naive kitten, Haru would tug on those strings until something unravels.
She nods, her expression softening: ] Right. My quirk is all about empathy - about feeling what a person does every time I touch them. Like a living lie detector, I guess? I can demonstrate it again, but if what you experienced yesterday is a first...
[ a dangerous first, given his line of work. No wonder he had been spooked...
Of course, she holds back on some aspects: namely, manipulation, and the few times she had managed to lessen someone's pain through sheer willpower. Haru can't control those. It wouldn't make sense to bring them up, unless again, he had already suspected such a thing. ]
Then I suspect that it may be for the best to hold back for the time being.