Sugar and Spice

Mitty looked around the library and frowned. The desks lining the nearby wall were filled with computers, most of them occupied by students. The other desks in the centre of the room were arranged in a circle like those found in meetings, and several of those desks were, again, being used to by students. Surely they weren't all working on the newspaper? There were more than enough of them that they could work on two newspapers. Why did this Kyra person need to go looking for more?

I don't need to be here, thought Mitty. I'd just get in the way.

"Oh, hello!" Kyra looked up from her desk suddenly and locked eyes with Mitty. "I recognise you from the writing class! Are you here to volunteer?"

Mitty froze like a deer in the headlights. There were a million things she wanted to say like, Woah, way to assume! or, How did you recognise me? Creepy! or even, Don't talk to me, you strawberry-looking nerd. Yes, she knew she got kind of aggressive when put on the spot, but who could blame her? Kyra's stupid voice caught everyone's attention and now they were all looking at Mitty like she'd just walked in on a court case.

Instead of saying anything, she just shot everyone a fierce glare to force them to look away. She smiled in satisfaction as the onlookers quickly returned to their tasks. Works every time.

Kyra got up from her desk and approached Mitty. "You came just in time, we could really use some extra help."

Mitty's eyebrow shot up. "Really? Looks to me like you got more hands than you need."

Kyra smiled pleasantly. "Oh, not at all." She said it so simply, but there was a frantic glint in her eye. "We're putting together a massive Winter's Fest issue and documenting what every club's doing for it." Her smile widened just enough to stop being pleasant and start looking desperate. "Did you know there are a lot of clubs here? I didn't when I pitched the idea."

Mitty couldn't help backing away a little. "Why don't you just skip the smaller ones?" she asked.

"Oh, no, no. Everyone has to be included."

"But--"

"Everyone." Kyra's smile twitched.

Mitty sighed deeply. She could still get out of this. She hadn't officially said she'd help. She definitely had perfectly reasonable excuses--reasons--for declining. Besides, Kyra looked like she was one mistake away from breaking down on Mitty, and she didn't want to bother dealing with that.

But Alexis' hopeful face flashed in her mind, and she sighed again, in resignation this time. "Hypothetically, if I wanted to help," she said slowly, "what would you need done?"

The intense look in Kyra's eye vanished and she was the picture of composure once more. "We've been trying to interview every club, but some of them keep slipping through the cracks," she said with her professional smile. "With everyone busy, there's just not enough time for each club to get equal focus."

"And every club needs equal focus," said Mitty, already knowing where this was headed and dreading every second of the conversation.

Kyra nodded. "Now you're getting it." She folded her arms. "So what we'd need from you is a written interview for a club talking about their plans for the Fest."

Mitty narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were looking for writers."

"Yes," said Kyra. "Written interview. You'd be contributing to a larger article that's about each club's plans."

Mitty found herself feeling strangely disappointed. Had she actually wanted to write something for the newspaper? Don't be ridiculous. You just did this for Alexis. 

Well, she hadn't technically gone back on her word. She only said she'd check the club out. She still had time to back out.

Back out…

"I sense some hesitation," Kyra said, tilting her head just a little. "I understand not everyone is fan of interviewing, but it really is important to make sure all our uni's voices are heard."

Why should I care about them? I don't even read the newspaper. Mitty flinched internally. Why did she think she could contribute to something she'd never given a second glance? Her policy at Haldwell had been to keep her head down and get out with a good degree. She'd managed that just fine for two years. She didn't need to break the streak now.

But that thought didn't stop the sudden gnawing at her gut.

"Why didn't you just ask the journalism course for help?" she asked, trying to ignore the weight in her stomach.

Kyra gestured to the occupied tables. "Most of us are from the journalism course."

Ugh. Figures. Mitty had been grasping at straws for that one. "Right." She'd run out of things to say.

"Can I ask what's holding you back?" Kyra said.

No, Mitty wanted to snap. Kyra was quickly proving to be an annoyance with her persistence and professionalism. She carried herself more like a teacher than a student. They were the same age, yet there was an imbalance that Mitty felt keenly. What right do you have to pry? Just let me go if you can tell I don't want to do this.

"If it's the interview thing, I think it would be a good experience if you haven't done it before," Kyra went on.

A good experience. Again with this shit. Who does she think she is? Mitty had just barely let Alexis get away with that tripe. She wouldn't give a stranger the luxury of talking down to her. "You don't get to tell me what's good for me," she said levelly, unable to keep the steel out of her voice.

"I didn't.” Kyra’s eyes widened. "I'm simply suggesting that it's a way to broaden a person's horizons."

It was implied, Mitty growled internally. "You can suggest that all you like, but it's not your business, is it?" They were attracting attention, Mitty knew, but she didn't much care. She just glared at anyone who caught her eye.

Kyra's lop ears twitched. "I'm sorry, I didn't intend to upset you," she said. "I just thought a bit of encouragement might--"

"It's not your place."

Where there had been the usual hum of students at work, there was only silence. Kyra blinked in shock. Her mouth hung open in search of words, but she could find none.

Mitty only felt a fraction of satisfaction at this. The rest of her was trying desperately to ignore the reason why she lashed out. The longer the silence went on, the harder it was to hold on to her anger, until it petered out in a pathetic whimper.

She didn’t deserve that. I read too much into it. As usual.

“You’re… right,” said Kyra after a minute of uncomfortable silence. “I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses; seemed to be a habit of hers. “If you don’t want to help, I understand. I may have been a bit pushy.”

No. I just got defensive. Mitty sighed. Not everyone is out to get me… “It’s fine,” she replied. “I just find it weird when someone my age gives me life advice.” Like they know more than me. Like they’re ahead in the game.

Kyra smiled sheepishly. With her glasses, she looked a little like Alexis, but her vibe was different. She seemed far more self-assured, and again, that bothered Mitty. She didn’t want to think why. “I have been told I act like a professor sometimes. Sorry,” said Kyra. “I just wanna help people, you know?”

Mitty grunted. What a noble girl this was. Annoyingly so. She’d backed Mitty into a corner without even realising it. Sure, she could still leave, but doing so after that would just come off as rude. She didn’t usually have a problem with that, but this time was different.

Ugh, damn it, when she says that, I can’t not help her.

“So what clubs still need to be interviewed?” she asked gruffly.

Kyra blinked before her blue eyes slowly widened as she registered what Mitty had said. “You’ll help?”

Mitty scowled. “What clubs?” she repeated sharply.

“Oh! Um…” Kyra disappeared behind her desk before pulling out a bunch of books. She flicked through them with a slight hum. She looked back up to Mitty and gestured her over. “There’s the gardening society, the baking club, the shadow magic study group…” She rattled off several more clubs, but Mitty had stopped listening.

“I’ll do the baking club,” she said.

“Wh--huh? You’ve already decided? That was fast!”

“Yeah.”

Kyra smiled. “Well, sure, that’s fine by me. But since you haven’t interviewed before… you haven’t, right?” Mitty shook her head. “Well, then I thought I’d come with you and show you how it’s done!”

“It’s just asking a bunch of questions, isn’t it? That’s not hard.”

“It’s far more than that!” Kyra chuckled breathily, and even though Mitty barely knew her, she immediately recognised it as a precursor to a lecture. Professors sometimes got the same way before launching into their favourite parts of lessons. “A good interviewer listens closely to what’s being said and asks follow-up questions, gives off a calm and approachable vibe--” Hey, wait a sec, is that jab at me? "--and generally knows how to make the interview entertaining. It’s not something you immediately get.”

Mitty didn't want to tell Kyra she was putting her off from this even more. Being entertaining wasn't her strong suit. "But if you're coming with me, doesn't that defeat the purpose of asking my help?" she asked.

"Don't worry about that," replied Kyra with a dismissive wave of her hand. "So, the baking club should still be in the kitchen…" She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Do you want to try interviewing them now?"

"What? Like, right now?"

"Yes."

Mitty couldn't think up any excuses to delay the inevitable. She sighed and rolled her shoulders. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

"That's what I like to hear! Kind of." Kyra put away some spare folders beneath her desk. "Shall we?"

Mitty hid her grimace. "Sure."

***

The kitchen smelled of sugar and chocolate. Several students danced between the stoves, the ovens, and the fridge, balancing bowls of fruits or melted chocolate deftly in their hands. The kitchen itself was one huge room with plenty of cooking equipment, with room for ten or so people to navigate without trouble. The radio crackled with contemporary music, though it was barely heard over the chatter of students and hum of working ovens.

It reminded Mitty of the kitchens at Bunbons. The sense of familiarity was rather comforting, and she relaxed her shoulders a bit. "I had no idea we had a kitchen here," she said.

"Certainly beats the dorm ones, huh?" said Kyra behind her.

Mitty shuddered, thankful she lived in her own house. She'd seen the empty alcohol bottles infesting the stained countertops of the tiny dorm kitchens once; the rancid smell had almost been enough to dispose of her breakfast. Never again.

A pale brown-furred mouse-boy broke out from the group of bakers to approach them. A large mixing bowl was nestled in his thin arms, and a stained apron hung off his small frame. He couldn't look more like the poster boy for a baking club if he tried. Mitty found it almost amusing. "Hello, how can we help you?" he asked with a small smile. Then, as he spotted the person behind Mitty, "Oh, Kyra! How's the newspaper going?"

"It’s going well, thanks, Gui." Kyra smiled back at him. "Can you guess why we're here?"

The mouse, Gui, twitched his big ears repeatedly. "The interview?" he asked.

"Yep!" Kyra's eyes sparkled. "Sorry it took so long to get to you, we've been swamped."

"No worries." Gui's large, sky-blue eyes glanced over at Mitty, who glared at him on pure instinct. He immediately shrunk away and averted his gaze.

Kyra seemed to notice this and sighed. "This is Mitty, she'll be writing your piece for the paper," she explained.

Gui smiled, but his lips twitched. "Oh, that's… nice."

Isn't it just. Mitty rolled her eyes. "Nice to meet you," she said flatly.

"I'll, um, I'll just fetch Ace, and we can get started," said Gui, and he wasted no time shuffling away, almost dropping his mixing bowl in the process. Mitty smirked in amusement until she noticed his arms were shaking, and she cursed herself.

I didn't mean to scare him.

"Gui's a little shy," Kyra said, giving Mitty a pat on the shoulder, which she shrugged off with a growl. "He just needs a second to adjust to… you being there."

"Never have I felt so welcome," Mitty mumbled, deadpan.

"Well, you could try dropping that death glare," Kyra suggested with a good-natured smile. Mitty just turned the glare on her instead, and even she wilted slightly. "Sorry."

The only Vistian Mitty would consider dropping that glare for wasn't even here. That's why she kept it on; that's what she told herself.

"So why did you choose this club?" Kyra asked while they waited.

Mitty thought she'd be more comfortable with the scent of sugar and thrum of ovens in the room. If no one was there, it would probably feel like home. But even with that familiarity, she still couldn't let down her guard. "No reason," she muttered. "First one on your list that sounded decent."

Kyra hummed thoughtfully, but didn't say more.

A minute of Mitty watching a student decorating a cake later, Gui emerged with a white-pelted Lucive in tow. Mitty blinked in surprise; she didn't see Lucives very often. They were built like wolves, though their ears were longer and, though Mitty had never seen it herself, knew that the fur that ran along their backs connected to their tails like very long hair. This Lucive seemed no different. His white fur was pristine, almost sparkling in the bright light of the kitchen, his yellow markings shining like gold. His smooth long hair was tied up in a ponytail, but some of it still fell over his eyes. A heart-stamped apron protected his black jumper and beige trousers. He brandished a batter-coated spoon with a flourish, accidentally flicking the batter in Mitty's face as he declared in a showman's voice, "Rejoice, dear fans, for your prince has arrived!"

"Amni?" Mitty breathed, too stupefied to clean the batter from her face. It dripped down her cheeks to the floor.

"Bless you," said the Lucive.

Mitty shook her head, regaining control of her senses. The resemblance, despite their voices sounding different, had been uncanny for a second.

The Lucive stood much taller than his mousy friend, practically towering over him. Lucives in general tended to be tall, but this one had a frame taken straight from a statue. His apron diminished the noble look somewhat, but he carried himself with the grace of a royal.

"Hi, Ace," said Kyra with the same heavy sigh Mitty often used for Amni.

"Greetings, my dear Kyra." Ace bent down to hand Kyra a marzipan rose. Where did that come from? "Is it finally time for my interview?"

"The club's interview, yes," said Kyra patiently as she took the rose.

"Oh, what a joyous day! Though I must admit you haven't caught me at my best." Ace gestured to his stained, crinkled apron. "I cannot possibly pose for my photo looking like this."

I really have to interview this guy? Mitty barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

"You look fine, as always," said Kyra. "Now, Mitty here will be helping me conduct the interview, so--"

"Ah! How rude of me!" Ace produced another rose and handed it to Mitty. "How wonderful to meet you, Mitty."

Mitty thought of leaving him hanging, and though it was incredibly tempting, it wouldn't do her any favours before the interview. She took the rose. "Sure," she said.

"We should probably go somewhere more quiet," Gui piped up. "I can barely hear myself think in here."

Mitty didn't really want to leave the kitchen, but Gui had a point. She wouldn't be able to transcribe anything if she could barely hear anyone, and Gui's small voice in particular didn't carry well.

"We can use the classroom nearby, I think the profs left it free today," Kyra suggested.

You would know, thought Mitty.

The others agreed, and they made their way to the classroom. Mitty drank in the sugary scent one more time before leaving. Maybe she could come back again later.

And do what? she asked herself.

She discarded the thought and entered the classroom, watching Kyra pull up chairs for everyone. She took out a notepad and handed it to Mitty.

"Don't worry about getting everything word for word," she said. "Just the important details."

Mitty nodded absently and took a seat. Kyra sat next to her, with Gui and Ace facing them. Mitty tried to ignore the awkwardness of being so close to multiple strangers. Gui kept shifting in his seat, so at least she knew she wasn't alone in her thoughts, though the fact that he was likely anxious because of her didn't help.

"Mitty, it's a good idea to take notes on the general atmosphere before and during an interview," Kyra pointed out. "Helps set the scene."

All right, like a story. Mitty nodded slowly. I can work with this. She resented being given pointers by someone her age, but she couldn't deny they were useful.

And so she got to work, scribbling down what she could about the room and her peers. She took note of the way Ace leaned back in his chair with his arm resting on the top of it, the picture of poise. He smiled charmingly at her; she forced down a glare by looking at the notebook.

"Shall we begin?" Kyra asked.

"I'm more than ready for you," said Ace, while Gui nodded.

"Great! So…" Kyra clapped her hands. "Mitty, I'll go ahead and start us off, so feel free to jump in when you get an idea."

"Mm-hmm."

Kyra sat up straighter and cleared her throat in preparation. "All right, so Gui, Ace, could you introduce yourselves for our readers?"

"I'm--"

"Certainly!" Ace jumped in before Gui could finish. "I'm Ace Okirugi, descendant of Evelyn the Brave, and president of the baking club!"

Wait, what? Mitty's eyes shot up from her scribbling. Sure, Ace had a similar colouring to Evelyn the Brave, with his striking white fur and yellow markings, but that was still a bold claim. Evelyn the Brave had little notoriety in Nemon compared to Tananshia and Havran, but even Mitty knew of the great knight of old. Something something Shadow Mage War and the like. She'd listened once or twice in history class.

"Rumoured descendant," Gui corrected him, frowning. "And you interrupted me."

"You cannot deny our likeness," said Ace, putting a hand to his chest.

"I don't know whether to include that in the interview," Mitty mumbled to Kyra.

"It's fine, just jot it down, we'll decide if we want to humour him at the editing stage," Kyra replied.

Ace scoffed.

"And I'm Gui Okirugi, vice president of the baking club," Gui said.

Huh, same last name. "You related?" Mitty asked.

"We're brothers," Gui explained. "Not by blood, so I can't exactly make the same claim as Ace…" he glanced sideways at the Lucive, "but we grew up together. For better or worse."

"Must be tough," Mitty said.

Kyra actually snorted before quickly covering her mouth.

"Oh, it is," Gui replied, his big mouse ears flapping as he nodded emphatically. "He takes two hours to shower every morning."

"Well of course I do, my dear brother!" Ace raised his head. "Not even I can wake up this splendid. It takes work to maintain this level of beauty."

"Uh-huh." Gui frowned. "Using up all the hot water is part of that, is it?"

"Hot water is good for the fur…"

Mitty listened to the two brothers banter some more before Kyra leaned in and whispered, "Good job getting Gui to relax."

Mitty frowned. "But I didn't do anything."

Kyra simply tapped her glasses and smiled, gesturing to the brothers with her eyes.

Mitty noticed Gui's shoulders had slackened. She didn't expect her little comment to set him and Ace off, but maybe Kyra had a point. The atmosphere was certainly more relaxed now, and wasn't that what they were after?

"I notice you two are close," said Kyra, pulling the brothers from their bickering to continue the interview. "How did you decide to join the same club?"

"Well, I like baking, so I knew I wanted to join when I first enrolled at Haldwell," said Gui, "Ace just followed me."

Ace chuckled. "You see, Gui was a timid little thing when he was younger. Afraid of his own shadow, he was!"

Mitty couldn't help smiling as a familiar blue-furred face flashed in her mind.

"Oi!" Gui protested.

"So, being the good brother I am, I joined to look out for him," Ace went on despite the interruption. "And developed a love for baking along the way."

"So now I can't get rid of him," Gui muttered.

Kyra opened her mouth to speak, but Mitty beat her to the punch. "What do you love about baking?"

Gui's large eyes flashed, while Ace grinned. "I love the science of it," Gui replied breathlessly. "While it's comforting to have recipes for precise measurements, the true joy comes from experimenting to make something new."

"And it's tasty," added Ace.

Mitty nodded. "It's satisfying when you think you've accidentally botched a cake, but it turns into something different instead."

"Yes!" Gui grinned. "You get it."

It was at that moment, when Mitty felt the spark of common ground pass between them, that she noticed she'd stepped onto the battlefield without her armour.

If Kyra says anything, I swear to--

"Mitty, do you like baking?"

Crap.

"No," she blurted out automatically.

Kyra raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Mitty cursed again. She was never really sure why she denied it; it wasn't like baking was particularly girly or anything. But she wasn’t supposed to have interests. Nobody had any right knowing that she liked anything at all, let alone baking. She was the mysterious and intimidating senior, damn it!

“I know a thing or two about it,” she relented.

“What’s your favourite cake?”

It was Mitty’s turn to shift in her seat. “Cupcakes,” she muttered.

“Which frosting?”

“Strawberry.”

“What--”

“Hey, we aren’t interviewing me!” Mitty jabbed her pen in Ace and Gui’s direction. “They’re the presidents here!”

“Just asking…” Kyra sighed. “I’m curious, is all.”

“Be curious about them.”

Kyra leaned back and folded her arms. “You’re a private person, aren’t you?”

Mitty’s eye twitched. Kyra sure enjoyed being annoying, didn’t she? “No shit.”

“Why? We’re not going to hurt you. If anything, you’re among friends.” Kyra smiled, as if she hadn’t just said the most irritating thing in the world. “Like you said, the presidents of the baking club are here.”

Mitty gritted her teeth, but she couldn’t keep her hackles up for long. Kyra was just trying to help, in her annoying way, and she had a point. The presidents of the baking club would be the last people to judge her.

She just… hated anyone trying to get into her business.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “Can we just get on with the interview?”

“Mitty, my darling, my dear, can I call you that?” Ace piped up, leaning forward.

“No.”

“Mitty, my dear, there is no shame in appreciating baking. It is an art, after all!” He waved his arm with a flourish. “Why, it is said the Dragon Gods themselves enjoyed a good gâteau every now and then.”

“No one’s said that,” Gui murmured.

“My point is!” Ace pointed at Gui. “That baking is a noble practice; nay, a necessity! What an experienced baker can paint with a piping bag leaves even the royals breathless.” He was standing up now, chin angled towards the heavens. “Even Evelyn the Brave vanquished a cockatrice with a cake.”

“Well now that’s just not true,” Kyra muttered.

“The cake was poisoned!” Ace explained, now pointing at her. She simply stared at him.

This is so stupid. Yet Mitty couldn’t help finding it a little amusing. Ace’s flair for the dramatic surpassed even Amni’s. It was easy to imagine a fanfare behind him.

“And so!” The Lucive turned his finger to her. “It is proven that baking saves lives. It is, indeed, an esteemed pursuit. But most importantly…” He finally lowered his hand and smiled. “It brings joy to people. And that is the most noble act of all, don’t you think?”

Mitty blinked. She didn’t have anything to say to that onslaught of dramatics, but what really left her stunned was his earnestness. He may have been talking out of his ass, but he meant every word.

And so she smiled. “I suppose so.”

Gui’s eyes flicked from her to Ace. “That worked for you?"

Mitty shrugged. "Can't deny his passion." She wasn't about to divulge her deepest secrets or anything, but she felt a bit more at ease knowing she could talk safely about her hobby here. Not that she would, but it was nice to have the option.

They returned to the interview, with Kyra and Mitty taking turns to ask questions about the club's Winter's Fest plans. Mitty found it surprisingly easy to capitalise on their answers, and by the time the interview wound down, she was genuinely curious about the club's plans and wished them well. Her book was littered with near-illegible notes, and she already had an article outline jotted down.

The sun sank by the time they finished, their afternoon lost to winter's early evening. Mitty wasn't looking forward to heading home in the dark, but at least she lived close by. She still had to type up the notes, then send them to Kyra, who would 'help' her draft the article.

I'm not even writing the damn thing myself. I could be home now, playing with Alexis and Amni, but I'm stuck here with these randos. Is it even worth it?

Well, she'd given it a try, and she didn't want to kill anyone, so that was a plus. She'd fulfilled her promise to Alexis. She could help Kyra draft the article, head home, and put this whole thing behind her.

"It was nice to meet you, Mitty," said Gui once they finished the interview, as Ace and Kyra returned the chairs to their original places. "It's always fun talking with another baker."

"Sure," Mitty mumbled. She was loath to admit that she shared his sentiment.

Maybe it was worth it a little bit.

"Why don't you join the club? We'd love to have you."

Mitty paused. Her, joining a baking club? No, no. She already had too much going on to waste her time baking with a bunch of strangers.

But it might be fun.

She'd had this thought maybe once before: actually indulging in her hobby with other people. It couldn't be so bad, could it? She wouldn't be judged there. Besides, Ace and Gui seemed nice enough.

Images of sneers from long past bombarded her mind, back when she'd let people look at her like that; when they'd dared to taunt her for being weak. Being vulnerable.

No. That wasn't who she was, and didn't line up with how she presented herself. She couldn't let anyone think for a second that she wouldn't sock them for their jeers. Joining a flowery club like this would only tarnish her image.

But Alexis knows you, and she doesn't think you're weak.

"Mitty?" Gui prompted.

She snapped out of her thoughts to face him. His eyes were wide with apprehension, but something else, too. Hope? No. Not possible.

But that look reminded her once more of the girl who would not leave her mind.

"Thanks, but no thanks," she said, putting her notebook away. "I'm too busy."

"Oh." Gui looked away, his shoulders drooping. "Okay."

Ugh, don't give me that pathetic disappointed puppy-dog look! Stop being like her! "Why d'you care so much?" she asked. "Your club looks full enough to me."

"Well, sure, everyone there loves baking, but…" He twirled his thin tail in his hands. "A lot of them are there to just pass the time. We don't really… talk a lot."

"Oh."

"I mean, they're all great, but I can't get carried away because they don't care as much as I do. About baking, I mean."

"And what makes you think I do?"

"The interview. Either you’re a good interviewer, or you were actually interested in what we had to say. And what you said earlier, about making something new. I just thought, maybe…" Gui rubbed his head. "Was I wrong? I'm sorry, maybe I was just projecting."

It would be so easy to say yes, to leave him in the dirt, to put this behind her and never look back. It was familiar; it was comfortable. She'd walked that road before, enough times to know every twist and turn she'd take to reach the destination awaiting her. And because she'd trudged that path, she knew there was no twist, just a smooth road with nothing but the hollow darkness of dissatisfaction waiting at the end.

Besides, what would Alexis think?

"You weren't wrong," she admitted, but it was like pulling teeth. "I love baking." The words were forced out of her, each one leaving her more naked than before. "And it'd probably be… fun. To join you."

Gui's eyes widened.

"But I really wasn't kidding; I'm busy, especially right now during Fest prep. I wouldn't have even volunteered for the newspaper if my friend hadn't bugged me."

Gui smiled sadly. "That's okay, I understand."

Mitty couldn't believe what she was about to say next, but if today taught her anything, it was that she could no longer ignore what she was missing out on. "But maybe next semester, when things settle down… I might consider."

"Oh!" Gui's posture straightened instantly, his tail going rigid. "Oh, that would be great!"

Mitty couldn't help smirking at his obvious joy. "Not making any promises. For all I know I might be even busier by then."

"Just knowing you're interested is enough."

"Gui, Mitty, you coming?" Kyra's voice sounded from the doorway.

Gui and Mitty followed the others out of the room. Ace turned to Mitty, bowing so low his hair skimmed the floor.

"Thank you for such an enjoyable interview, Miss Mitty," he said. "It was an honour."

"Um." Please raise your head, this is embarrassing! "No problem."

"I look forward to your presence in the kitchen." He lifted his head, flashing her a dazzling smile.

"But I didn't--"

"Farewell for now!" He twirled with the grace of a ballerina and drifted back to the kitchen, his hair trailing behind him like a cape.

Mitty watched him leave, dumbstruck.

"And there he goes," said Gui.

"Is he always like that?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Gui chuckled. "But you get used to it."

Mitty knew that well enough, if Amni was any indication. Besides, Ace wasn't that bad, really. He might be a prince, but he seemed a good sort. Or maybe Amni just desensitised her to drama queens.

Mitty and Kyra waved Gui goodbye and made their way back to the library. The halls were eerily quiet now that most of the students had gone home, their footsteps echoing on the parquet floor being the only sound to fill the silence. Lights from bulbs long past their use flickered erratically as the two girls slipped past the older parts of the building, their reflections glinting in the large windows. Mitty had never been on this part of campus long enough to see it under artificial lighting. The difference between the bustle of the kitchen and the uncanny hush of deserted hallways made the silence deafening.

Sure, Mitty loved the quiet, but not here on campus! Why couldn't Kyra at least say something? Of course she'd chosen now to finally shut up. She was probably doing it on purpose to coax Mitty into talking first--

The hoot of an owl outside made her jump and she almost screamed.

"Never been here at night?" Kyra asked. She was ahead of Mitty, making her way up the stairs to the library.

Mitty glared at her back with the intensity of a thousand suns. From the sudden twitch of Kyra's tail, Mitty could tell she felt it.

"It can be a bit spooky in the winter since it gets dark so quick," she went on, "but I've stayed late plenty of times. There's nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not scared." Mitty spat the words out.

"Oh, good." Kyra sounded oblivious to Mitty's fury. "Because if you plan to help us out or join the baking club, you'd be staying here late all the time."

"Mm, late hours, that's the dream," Mitty muttered as she trudged up the steps. "And I never said this was more than a one time thing."

"No? So you won't join the baking club either? That's a shame. I'm sure you'd love it."

"I…" Mitty's automatic retort hung dead in the chill air. Spitting at Kyra obviously went nowhere, and she was getting too tired to try, especially when any protest felt as hollow as it sounded. "I don't know," she muttered, her voice lost to their clacking footsteps.

"Hm. Okay." Thankfully Kyra dropped the topic, and they continued their ascent without a word. The pit Mitty had felt in her stomach earlier yawned open again and swallowed the silence.

Alexis had encouraged her to pursue her goals. It wouldn't be fair for Mitty to stop halfway now, even if the thought of never seeing Kyra again was almost too tempting to pass up.

"I want to be uncomfortable, for your sake."

She couldn't go back on her word now. And most importantly, she didn't want to.

She climbed up the stairs, up the twists and turns that made up this unfamiliar path, to a destination she did not know, one step at a time.