"Miss Victoria, I heard you managed to talk to Mayumi's parents about letting her study overseas."
Kasem looked up from his book as he spoke, one finger still tucked between the pages to keep his place.
Outside the bakery window, evening had already begun sinking into colder colours. The silver sun lingered low above the rooftops, washed of warmth, turning the clouds shades of dull orange and faded blue.
Mayumi had stepped out a few minutes earlier to "get snacks," which usually meant buying half the bakery.
"I did not do anything," I replied, turning a page in my own book. "And we cannot even be certain they will approve considering the tuition."
Kasem fell quiet after that.
He leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze drifting toward the fogged window beside us. People moved past outside in scarves and winter coats, shoulders hunched against the cold. Every so often the bakery door opened, letting in a sharp gust of air along with the smell of wet stone and chimney smoke.
"Is it that expensive?" he asked eventually.
I paused, fingers resting against the edge of the paper while I tried to shape the explanation into something understandable instead of sounding like a lunatic imported from another world.
"If universities were divided into tiers," I began slowly, "yours would probably qualify as Tier One."
Kasem blinked once but stayed silent.
"And that is not an insult," I added quickly. "But a Tier Three institution is more like… a nuclear reactor."
The words left my mouth before my brain finished approving them.
I immediately regretted everything.
"She would essentially be paying money not to die while flirting with death," I finished anyway.
Kasem stared at me.
The bakery hummed softly around us. Trays clinked somewhere behind the counter. Someone laughed near the ovens.
Then, with perfect calm:
"What's a nuclear reactor?"
"Huuh… hmm…"
Ah shit.
I lowered my head slightly, resisting the urge to slam it into the table.
My thoughts scattered violently.
You absolute idiot.
"Well…" I started, then stopped again.
How exactly was I supposed to explain nuclear fission to a teenager eating cream buns after school?
"It is like…" I rubbed my forehead. "Working with explosives or something."
A catastrophic explanation.
Truly criminal.
Kasem looked unconvinced but mercifully chose not to continue the topic. Whether he planned to ask someone smarter later or simply sensed I was drowning, I could not tell.
Honestly, I was not sure which possibility frightened me more.
To stop the awkwardness from growing teeth, I shifted the conversation instead.
"How's school been?"
Kasem adjusted slightly in his seat before answering.
"School is fine," he said. "Tiresome, but okay."
He turned another page of the engineering text resting open before him. The diagrams inside looked dense enough to qualify as psychological warfare.
"Engineering, huh," I murmured.
The thought lingered longer than expected.
University.
The idea had been circling quietly around me for a while now, never fully landing but never disappearing either.
Kasem glanced up.
"I always wanted to become one," he explained after a moment. "I liked building things."
The honesty of it made me smile faintly.
Simple.
Straightforward.
No world-ending magical treaties attached.
Or maybe engineering here eventually became exactly that. Hard to tell anymore.
"Miss Victoria," he said suddenly, folding his arms on the table, "I have a question."
"Ask away."
He hesitated briefly.
"From what you said earlier… Mayumi's father attended what would be considered a Tier Two university, correct?"
I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.
"So if universities in the East already study Aether," he continued, "and it is now a relatively common field… why are there no facilities for mages?"
The question settled heavily between us.
Outside, the light dimmed another shade closer to night.
I sat with it for a moment because the answer was complicated.
Not politically complicated.
Structurally complicated.
And honestly, a little unfair.
"Well," I said carefully, "Aether and mana are similar, but they are not the same."
Even saying it felt annoyingly vague.
Kasem waited patiently.
"The difference lies there," I continued. "People like Mayumi's father work with Aether systems. Mayumi herself uses mana directly."
I took a sip of tea. It had already gone lukewarm.
"It is similar to why the West cannot properly train cultivators," I added. "They require manuals, techniques, internal frameworks. The same way Mayumi requires mage curriculum."
Kasem frowned slightly in thought while the bakery lights reflected softly against the window beside him.
"Think of it like this," I said, leaning back a little. "Finance, economics, banking, and accounting all revolve around money. But the way each interacts with that shared concept differs."
He nodded slowly.
"I think I understand now."
The bell above the bakery door rang violently before I could answer.
Cold air burst inside.
"I HAVE ACQUIRED THE GOODS!"
Mayumi stormed into the bakery carrying enough paper bags to suggest she had robbed the entire district.
Several people turned immediately.
"Mayu," Mr. Gaspard warned from behind the counter, "no running and no shouting."
"Sorry!"
She apologised instantly without reducing her speed in the slightest.
The girl possessed a remarkable ability to apologise while actively committing the crime.
She dropped into the seat beside us and immediately began unpacking snacks with the seriousness of military logistics.
"Trifle for you, Kasem," she announced proudly, handing him a container.
"And more biscuits for us, Miss Victoria."
Kasem blinked.
"I thought Mr. Gaspard said he did not want any more biscuits."
"He did," Mayumi replied gravely. "But circumstances changed."
"What circumstances?"
"The bookshop atmosphere was insufficient."
She sighed dramatically while placing another plate onto the table.
"So I relocated our studying operations to the bakery."
Mr. Gaspard snorted quietly behind the counter.
At this point I genuinely no longer understood how Mayumi kept discovering every location where I preferred to suffer in peace.
Actually, no.
That was a lie.
She just kept following people she liked.
The realization landed softer than expected.
"Now help me study," she demanded.
There it was.
The real reason behind all this.
Weekend tutoring.
Kasem rubbed his temple before reluctantly setting aside his book.
"Let's review physics and mathematics again."
Mayumi visibly suffered.
He ignored her pain completely.
"If the distance between two bodies is five hundred metres," he began aloud, "and the objects possess masses of one thousand kilograms and one thousand eight hundred seventy-five kilograms respectively, what is the gravitational force between them?"
Mayumi stared at him blankly.
Then sighed like someone personally betrayed by the heavens.
"What am I ever going to use this for?"
She placed her pen down immediately and reached for a biscuit instead.
Kasem slowly closed his notebook.
"If you do not see the importance," he said calmly while beginning to stand, "I am going home."
"No wait."
She grabbed his sleeve instantly.
"I need you."
The sheer desperation in her voice nearly made me laugh into my tea.
Kasem sat back down with the exhausted dignity of someone already regretting his entire existence.
"Thank you," Mayumi said quickly before turning back to her notes. "So what's the formula again?"
I sighed quietly and dipped my biscuit into my tea while Kasem rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.
Outside, night had begun pressing fully against the windows now.
Streetlamps flickered alive one by one along the road, their glow stretching across wet stone and passing carriages.
Inside the bakery, warmth held steady.
Pens scratched against paper. Cups clicked softly against saucers. Somewhere behind us, bread was being pulled from an oven.
And through all of it, Mayumi studied harder than before.
Not because she suddenly loved mathematics.
Not because physics fascinated her.
But because she wanted the West badly enough to wrestle equations for it.
There was something painfully earnest about that.
A little reckless too.
I watched Kasem explain the formula again while she scribbled notes with exaggerated suffering.
Maybe going back to school should be what I do next, I thought quietly.
The idea lingered longer this time.
Long enough to settle.
Long enough to stop feeling impossible.
"I should be able to learn more," I murmured softly into my tea.