[HYOUSUKE/AKI] A Reprieve

Aki didn't barrel through the door of the Black Cat Café. That would have been unsightly. He brisk-walked through it, which was much less unseemly. "Hey, hi, hello," he greeted, voice bursting bright, clear, and unwelcome into the quiet of the café, turning around to amble to the counter as if he didn't scuff his shoes against the hardwood floor in his haste to get in only a moment prior. A few regulars who recognised him snorted, rolling their eyes.

It was reactions like that that kept him coming to the café. He'd found it on a day not unlike this one: stumbling in while trying to shake off a rogue, camera-wielding vulture, to patrons who didn't even bat an eye at his grand entrance. He wasn't sure which was it: whether the shop just happened to attract the specific sort of clientele that didn't know him, or clientele just didn't care. Either way, he revelled in his anonymity. It was his little hidey-hole, though he doubted the owner would appreciate him calling it that. The vultures never found him while he was here.

Still, it never hurt to be cautious. He leaned a hip against the counter, and flashed a smile at the man standing behind it. "If a man in a red flannel shirt and a DSLR walks in here, tell him you're all sold out for the day, please? I'll tip really well today," he said, watching as bemusement, amusement, and then acquiescence swirled across the man's face. "Oh, and I'll have the usual, thank you."

As his pot of peppermint tea brewed, Aki chanced a look at his usual spot, and was dismayed to find it occupied. That table was his favourite -- tucked away near the back, neatly hidden from view of the front window by a support beam.  He could sit elsewhere, but there was an empty seat at the table; from here, he thought he recognised the distinct colour and cut of UA's uniform on the table's sole occupant. He scanned the other vacant seats, and weighed his options.

Sliding a wad of notes across the counter -- the promised hefty tip a part of the payment -- he hefted his tray of tea and lemon shortbread into his arms, and sauntered down the length of the shop to the table near the back. Let the tray come to a rest on the table's surface, with the resonant click of wood against wood. Flashed yet another sunshine-bright smile at the boy seated across from him.

"Hello, schoolmate. I'm going to sit here, if you don't mind." Aki pulled the chair back, and slid into the seat without waiting for Hyousuke's response. "You can have some of my biscuits, if you'd like."

"As bitter as coffee?" Aki finished Hyousuke trailed off, voice lilting upwards, amusement plain in his tone. "Quite the connoisseur, aren't you? I've never had the palate for those sorts of flavours. I'm more of a tea person, myself." As if to demonstrate, he reached for his cup of tea, and took a ginger sip. Steam wafted over his face, carrying the minty-sweet scent of peppermint. His tongue smarted; it was still too hot to drink. He put it back down on the saucer.

Crossing his arms over the table, he rested his weight on his elbows, leaning forward to peer at Hyousuke with interest. He'd caught the flash of scorn flitting over Hyousuke's face when he sat down, but the boy had schooled his features into something more presentable quick enough. And, he hadn't chased him off yet -- had, in fact, gone on an unprompted spiel about his sponge cake. (That had to be some good cake; he made a note to try it the next time he was here.) Aki was right on the money about this café's clientele: Hyousuke really didn't seem to recognise him. Oh, how he loved the Black Cat Café.

"Aki, from 1-I. Hero management." He flapped a dismissive, gloved hand, shrugging. "Our classes don't run in the same social circles. Or on the same syllabus."

There were more overlaps between the General Studies course and the Hero Studies course than there were for Hero Management and any other course -- unless the other students suddenly took to studying venture capital. From what he heard, his course was a barely a presence in the school's annual sports festival. Not that it mattered to Aki; he'd never been one for boisterous festivities, and sports days weren't typically a thing when you were homeschooled.

"So, what's a Hero course student like you doing all the way out here? Don't you have, hm -- " He twirled a finger in the air, contemplative. " -- things to punch? I'm not too familiar with your curriculum."

Hyousuke's retort drew a huff of laughter from Aki. The sponge cake spiel had Aki worried, for a moment, that he had chosen to sit by an oddball, but his seatmate's veiled barb showed that he knew how to think on his feet -- and wasn't afraid to bite back. Tea and conversation; delightful.

He responded to Hyousuke's smirk with a smile of his own, close-mouthed and small, its edges a tad sharper than before. "Oh, you know how it is." He gestured vaguely with one free hand, at nothing in particular. "Reading up about the intricacies of property damage insurance claims is backbreaking work, not to mention what staring at Legalese all day does to your eyes. The dryness is a nightmare."

"So, don't let me get in the way of your -- what was it? ah -- peace too much. I'm here for the same reasons as you. Just a breather."

Strictly speaking, what Aki said was mostly half-truths. He was taking a breather from his books. There just happened to be a little something extra thrown in. Hooking his fingers around the handle of his cup, he ended his statement by taking a languid sip of tea, sneaking a furtive glance at the entrance from behind the rim of his teacup -- gaze sliding to the door that had remained blissfully shut since his unceremonious arrival, before returning swiftly to Hyousuke, in patient anticipation of his reply.

Work for him? Aki bit back a snort. He was no clairvoyant, but he was sure that "working for a no-name, freshly-graduated hero" wasn't a cell in any of his mother's spreadsheets, unless she happened to have one titled "Reasons to Disown Li Bin Bin". Still, there was something in the way Hyousuke phrased his sentence, the confidence with which he said it wouldn't be a problem for him, that gave Aki some pause. For a second, he considered pushing the issue, but decided he had no intention of unleashing the entire Spanish Inquisition on Hyousuke. It seemed more trouble than it was worth.

Though, it seemed Hyousuke had no such reservations.

"I thought this was teatime, not an interrogation." Aki dropped his tone to match Hyousuke's, pulling his teacup away from his face so his voice wasn't muffled into it. He shrugged again, careful not to jostle his tea. "Maybe we never crossed paths. Maybe we just never saw each other while we were here. You don't scrutinise everyone who walks in here for coffee, do you?" Aki didn't come to the Black Cat Café to be seen, and he suspected it was the same for Hyousuke. Until today, he had kept to himself when he came to café. He had had no reason to hobnob with the other patrons.

"And, I don't tend to leave UA while still wearing my uniform," he said, mouth twisted in a moue of distaste, flicking an errant lock of hair out of his face with a pinky.

It was more than just unfashionable. (Which it was, the cut of the men's uniform absolutely unflattering on all but the most fortunate figures.) It was a beacon, yelling "Look at me!" out into the open streets. He had recognised it on sight when he saw Hyousuke earlier, even from a distance. Aki had been recognised on sight, when he left for the convenience store down the road earlier in the day, complacent in the belief that it would only take five minutes, no biggie. 

Cocking his head to the side, Aki peered at Hyousuke, squinting slightly, assessing. Satisfied with whatever he saw, he leaned back in his chair. "The uniform isn't unsalvageable," he conceded mildly, the way someone would say "Susan's chocolate cake was, at least, edible".

"And don't be too hard on yourself. You've been a sparkling conversationalist. You haven't put me to sleep, yet -- that counts for something," Aki said, his tone placid, even as the edges of his lips curled upwards in a playful smirk. "I didn't expect you to launch an inquiry into my comings-and-goings from this café, is all."


He picked up a piece of shortbread, balancing it gingerly between the tips of his index finger and thumb, trying not to get any of the sugared glaze on his glove. His eyes drifted downwards, to the coffee swirling around in Hyousuke's cup. "To continue the conversation you so considerately started: I come here because it's hard to find." He nibbled at a corner of the biscuit, the citrus-sweet flavour bursting over his tongue. "And, the biscuits are good."

"It's only polite to share information if you're soliciting it. How did you -- " he pointed his biscuit in Hyousuke's general direction, shaking a few crumbs loose into the plate beneath it " -- find this place? There isn't a secret information-sharing network of sponge cake connoisseurs, is there?"

Before U.A., it wasn't often that he had the chance to interact with peers his age with no strings attached. It was always with children of other socialites, who invariably wanted something from him; or, photographers and stylists at his jobs, who needed him to do something; or, his parents' underlings, who about never said anything. Suspended in the perpetual orbit of apathetic acquaintances who had better things to do then entertain him, banter like this was rare. Seeing that shade of playfulness creep into Hyousuke's expression was... new. Nice, even.

Not that Aki would admit to any of that, of course.

"You're in a not the worst place, wearing something that is also not the worst," Aki said, arching an eyebrow. "Just a bundle of happy accidents, aren't you?"

He paused to take another nibble out of his shortbread, and continued, a little less acerbically: "Though, I don't have much right to criticise you on that front. I stumbled across this place by accident, too."

"It is a bit disappointing to find out that there isn't a secret enclave of sponge cake connoisseurs, though." He sighed heavily, all put-upon mock-disappointment. "And here I was, hoping I could wheedle my way into an invitation."

"Ohoh?" The disappointment on Aki's face slid off, replaced by an expression of open-mouthed, over-the-top surprise. He peppered in a gasp for dramatic effect. "It seems you've uncovered my dark secret. This shortbread here is, in fact, a... ham sandwich." He took a larger-than-before bite of his shortbread, chewed with deliberate, pensive slowness, swallowed with just as much deliberate intent. "It has a delightfully umami flavour."

He gestured at his plate, where one last lone piece of shortbread lay in its center, ringed by crumbs. "You ought to give it a try -- perhaps I could tempt you into joining my coven of heretics."

Retrospectively, maybe he had been over-ambitious with that mouthful. As he talked, Aki could feel the glaze sticking to the roof of his mouth, sharp and sweet down the back his throat. He reached for his tea, taking quick gulp in attempt to wash it down, and was genuinely surprised to find that it had gone lukewarm. So soon? He flicked his eyes upwards, glancing at the clock hanging above the counter.

He had gotten a tad carried away with their conversation, it seemed.