"Nothing gets by you, Bart."
"I did feel it a little curious you ushered us here so quickly," Oobleck admitted. "While I was certainly not averse to finding out more about this place, your excuse of having heard of it from the students fell a little flat. You don't exactly spend much time around the student body."
Ozpin smiled. "You've caught me out."
"Who is he?" Glynda asked, curious despite herself. "It's not like you to take interest in a random citizen of Vale, even if he can cater to your demanding coffee addiction."
"It's not really an addiction, Glynda…"
"Is he a potential student?" she asked, ignoring his protest entirely. "Is it someone you want to add to the student body in some way, or maybe someone of political importance?"
"Neither of those things, I'm afraid. He's just someone I wanted to keep an eye on. Call it a professional interest if you will, but my motives are more compassionate in nature. I just wanted to make sure Mr Arc was doing alright."
"Why?" Glynda asked.
"Why not ask him?" Ozpin said. "You've figured out who I am, right, Jaune Arc?"
"Yeah, I have…"
She jumped when the voice sounded behind her, and quickly scooted her chair around. How he'd snuck up on her, she had no idea, but it might have had something to do with the cakes she was snacking on, or maybe the fact that he presented no presence around him. Most huntsmen and huntresses got used to sensing danger nearby, and he provided none.
He was just a normal civilian.
"You're Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon." He looked to them. "And you must all be teachers there."
"Indeed, they are."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Arc," she said, holding out a hand. He took it, and she took a second to marvel at how un-huntsman-like his hands were. She filed it away, however, not wanting to draw attention to or embarrass him. "I wasn't aware you knew of Beacon or its professors. I'm sorry if it was rude to speak of you behind your back, but how do you know Ozpin?"
"Jaune Arc," he introduced, "and yeah, I know Ozpin." He sighed and shook his head. "I applied to attend Beacon."
"You…?"
"And I rejected his application," Ozpin said conversationally.
All noise died then and there.
Glynda winced, suddenly aware of how she was the closest to the teenager, and how she'd just mindlessly shook hands and introduced herself, unaware of his circumstances or what had happened. And, of course, Ozpin had flown in with his usual lack of tact, and dropped a bombshell on them all.
Well… this turned awkward fast.
"He wanted to attend this year, but I felt his training was not up to the standards we demand," Ozpin continued, completely oblivious to the little signs she was sending him to shut up. Even Peter looked uncomfortable; suddenly far more interested in the window than he had any right to be. "We had a surplus of excellent students this year, and Mr Arc didn't quite meet the bar. In the end, I decided it would be best if he did not attend."
"I-I see," she choked out. "Well, this is hardly the place for such discussions, so-"
"I didn't hear back from him, of course. Not many people respond to letters of rejection, I suppose." Ozpin sighed and finished his coffee. It clinked back down onto the saucer, the noise loud enough to echo through the diner. To her horror, she realised that even the other patrons had gone silent, all sensing the tension in the air and deciding to listen in.
Could Ozpin not sense the mood, or was he just being that much of an idiot?
"I wondered how you were doing, Mr Arc. I half-expected you would leave Vale altogether."
Zero tact… what else had she expected?
"No," Jaune said weakly. "I'm still here… I… I didn't want to go home and admit that I messed up. It felt like doing that would be admitting defeat, or failing somehow. I didn't want my family to look at me and think I was a failure."
"You're not a failure," Glynda interrupted. "Beacon sets unusually high standards for its applicants, and we turn away almost-"
"At becoming a huntsman, he is a failure," Ozpin said, cutting through her argument, and then moving his foot away when she drove her heel down into it. If only she'd thought to bring her weapon, she could have sealed his mouth shut. "I see you didn't try for any other schools. There are more ways to become a huntsman than to attend Beacon, you know. Some take apprenticeships, while others simply wander off into the wild and teach themselves. It's dangerous, of course, but the option is there."
Jaune Arc shrugged weakly, unable – or perhaps unwilling – to explain why he'd chosen to hang up his sword and become nothing more than a civilian.
"You're doing quite well for yourself here, however. I dare say you've been quite successful in setting this place up. Your menu is certainly diverse enough, and your service has been exemplary. Do you intend to make a career of this?"
"I guess so. It would be a bit weird if I opened this place and didn't."
"True…" Ozpin smiled coyly and leaned his hands on the table. "Allow me to be frank, Mr Arc. Do you wish for me to leave?"
"Ozpin!" Glynda hissed.
"No, it's fine…" Jaune shrugged and let out a long sigh. "I don't mind you being here."
"Despite me being directly responsible for trampling on your dreams?"
Jaune shuffled awkwardly, and it looked like he appreciated being the centre of attention even less than she did. For that alone she'd make sure to dump a week's worth of paperwork on her boss' desk. He deserved it for being so rude. In the end, the waiter shrugged.
"You're not upset?" Ozpin asked. "You knew who I was from the start, yet you treated me like any other customer. Why is that?"
"Because you're a customer… my consultant would be pretty angry if she heard I'd thrown you of all people out."
"That's not the real reason and you know it."
"What do you want me to say?" Jaune demanded – and there was a hint of emotion to his voice at last. Glynda recognised it easily in the way his hands clenched into fists. Ozpin, apparently, did not.
"The truth, I suppose. Were you not angry that I turned you down?"
"Angry? Angry!?" His blue eyes snapped open. "Of course I was angry! Becoming a huntsman was my dream, it was what I'd always wanted, and you just threw that away without even giving me a chance to prove myself! I was angry, alright. I was distraught, depressed – I didn't know what to do!" His hands tightened on his tray, and she saw it bend. "I'd never felt so… so crushedin my whole life. I was left with nothing, and after I'd come all the way to Vale to try and make this work. You took everything away from me…"
Glynda's face fell.
"And yet you've treated me like any other customer. Why is that?"
"Because… because what difference would it make if I didn't?"
What…?