A year later...
He finally understood the steampunk system wired into his house—and with that understanding came a bitter realization: all his dreams of modernization had gone up in smoke.
It was made by people who were clearly brilliant.
People who didn't care about efficiency in the traditional sense, which opened doors that no one in his past world ever bothered to explore.
Steam was abandoned in his old world.
Here? It thrived.
And that meant any "tinkering" he tried could very well blow the whole system to hell—or leave him armless.
If only he were a mechanical engineer.
Even now, he had ideas.
But without a solid theoretical base? It was useless. This wasn't a memory issue.
He knew things—like swapping a part for nickel might improve it.
But... what the hell is nickel? Where do you even get nickel?
He had surface-level knowledge, sure. But tell him to build something? He'd drown in the deep end.
So he gave up.
"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
The system worked.
Everyone was happy.
The functionality was good enough, because no one really needed more.
Maybe in tech circles, but there didn't seem to be many of those around.
There wasn't even barrel artillery. They still used catapults.
Even he could see the flaw: everything hinged on the idea that fire magic equaled power.
No one wanted to challenge that.
He didn't know if he should be the one to introduce gunpowder to this world. Probably not.
That path led to chaos.
Better to keep this world fantasy—with a bit of steampunk spice—than turn it into an arms race.
Sure, one firebender might be worth a dozen soldiers.
But give those soldiers WWII-era rifles?
Firebenders wouldn't stand a chance.
Could an earth wall block a bullet?
Doubtful.
So no, better to leave things as they were.
Unless he wasn't a mage.
In that case, well... game on.
He'd whip up some gunpowder and start building cannons himself.
Let's see who survives then.
But those were philosophical questions for another day.
Right now?
He had school.
Just like his uncle promised, he got bumped straight to second year.
Most of the kids were older. Including his cousin.
And that... was going to be a problem.
His brothers weren't thrilled that the adults had started focusing on him.
His uncle and father kept testing his knowledge at every family dinner.
Boasting about him became a routine.
It'd be flattering—if he actually lived up to their expectations.
To his growing horror, he'd even overheard talk of engagement plans.
Apparently, the elders would pick a bride for the talented older brother... and marry off the younger one (him) for political gain.
Smart—but magicless.
That's when it hit him: the heat was on.
Not that he expected to be married off to some wrinkled old noblewoman or anything.
But still, he wasn't planning on getting married either.
Maybe if he fell madly in love.
Maybe.
But the idea of some forced "meet this shy girl, she's your future wife" situation? Hard pass.
Anyway, he had time.
Engagements happened at fourteen.
He was six.
Plenty of time to sabotage it.
His father took him to school the next morning.
Weird.
The school was literally a hundred meters from the house.
He figured they'd just point and grunt, "That way. Walk."
But no.
His dad actually walked him there. Thankfully, not holding hands.
It was his first time leaving the house.
And damn...
the sky looked huge.
Not that it was different, really. But the air—it smelled like freedom.
Hard to explain.
The moment he stepped beyond the estate walls, the wind felt different.
Cheerful, almost.
Encouraging.
If his father hadn't been there, he might've just followed the wind and run.
Shaking off the moment, he started scanning his surroundings.
Honestly? It looked good.
A weird blend—Asian traditions slowly fading, steampunk rising from the ashes.
Houses like his own, covered in pipes like veins on freshly dug skin. It was almost pompous.
Almost.
Well, what can he say? The surroundings are truly impressive.
Here and there, uniformed soldiers or simple traders drove along the paved road. But there were few people.
This is the most elite sector, after all, located right on the street that leads to the gates of the Fire Lord's Palace.
So, no spontaneous markets or random passersby.
Everything here was perfectly in order.
Every tile, every fence, was pristinely clean.
The only thing that irritates me the most is the color red.
The tiles are burgundy, the walls are usually made of bricks of a characteristic color, and the clothes of the people around...
Well, red with different shades.
Of course, how else?
With so many red flowers, I'm going to go nuts sooner or later.
We walked to school at a normal pace, and, to be honest, it was a bit embarrassing.
For some reason, it seemed to me that aristocrats should show off as much as they can and move these hundred meters in some kind of limousine analogues.
Ah, no. Everyone is walking calmly.
The school was... a regular three-story building, with the Fire Nation banners, of course.
If there's one thing they're all over the place with, it's these symbols. It's stupid to even mention it. "Oh, this is the bathroom, there are three banners. And this is the toilet, there are only two. This is my room, four."
And so on.
So, you just have to understand that there are a lot of them.
Well, hus father took him straight to his new class.
It all looked pretty civilized: a teacher looking like "Professor McGonagall," children sitting quietly and evenly at their individual desks, dressed absolutely identically, as was Takeshi, and the chalkboard.
Decorous, minimalist, and devoid of grace.
Clearly visible: a school for fire mages, who are known for their short tempers.
Whew.
Ha.
But what else would you expect from children with real weapons in their hands and surrounded by solid shades of red?
And add to that, they are the golden youth.
If teachers can handle them, then they should get the "Teacher of the Year" award.
And at the same time, early retirement with a "harmful work" benefit.
At least, judging by everything, most parents understand what their children are like and what needs to be done to get at least a little bit of information into their heads.
Oh, and guess what? It's a boys only school.
Takeshi instantly stood out because he went straight to the second grade.
In addition to that, Takeshi didn't have magic, and wasn't taught any martial arts.
What the hell could go wrong?