Camie didn’t reach for the cake again, not yet. Not when he was sitting there looking at her like that — relaxed, steady, confident in a way he didn’t even realize he was capable of. The shift was subtle but it struck her right in the sternum. For the first time since she walked in here, she had to remind herself not to stare too hard.
And then he said it — reputation to uphold — with that quiet little bite of humor that she was starting to like far too quickly.
A soft laugh escaped her, hushed but genuinely delighted.
“Oh, totally. Wouldn’t want anyone finding out you’re secretly a sweetheart.” The girl’s tone was teasing, but there was that undertone again — the one that said she really did see him, even if she didn’t push it.
Utsushimi’s gaze flickered down his frame for a moment — the way he’d straightened, the way he let himself be there instead of shrinking away. She caught herself appreciating it, appreciating him, and when her eyes met his again there was something undeniably fond in them.
“Hey… can I ask you something?” she said, tone light but attentive.
She tilted her head, studying him the way someone does when they’re genuinely interested, not just making small talk. “I know you said you get sick of your own voice because of training, but…”
Camie let her fingers trail along the edge of the plate before settling her hand back in her lap.
“…what’s it actually like? Your quirk, I mean.”
There was no fear in her eyes, just curiosity. “People talk about brainwashing like it’s this scary mystery, but is it really that bad?”
The blonde paused, catching herself before she stumbled into saying something careless. Her lips curved into a softer smile, one that wasn’t teasing or bubbly — just earnest.
“I mean… people act like quirks like yours are dangerous by default.” She shrugged gently. “But that’s not fair. Or true.”
She gave his knee the lightest nudge with hers, barely there but intentional. “You’re not your quirk, y’know? And you’re definitely not scary.”
Her fingers started toying absently with the fork, tapping it against the plate before she continued.
“And honestly?” She lifted her gaze to him, eyes steady. “I kinda get it. The whole… people misunderstanding what you do.”
She sat back a little, enough to give him breathing room but not enough to feel distant.
“My illusions,” she said, gesturing loosely toward herself, “they’re technically harmless. No physical damage, no lasting side effects. But people hear ‘hallucination’ and suddenly everyone assumes I’m tricking them, lying to them, manipulating them.”
Camie gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “Like I’m this walking deception machine.”
Her tone softened again, warmth brushing over every word. “So… yeah. I get the whole ‘scary quirk’ reputation. Even if neither of us deserves it.”
The girl sighed, playing with a piece of strawberry. “And honestly? If people opened their eyes for two seconds, they’d see you for who you truly are. A kind person.”
