Extra is the Heir of Life and Death

Chapter 193: For the first time, she looked back.

The words left my mouth before I could second-guess them.

"I’m going to try something," I told Belle.

She paused mid-motion, a fork hovering above the bowl between us. Even without seeing her eyes, I could feel her attention sharpen, like a blade being gently unsheathed. Her head tilted slightly toward me, the blindfold catching the warm light of the room.

"...Try something?" she echoed, calm but curious.

I nodded, then realized how pointless the gesture was and let out a quiet breath instead. My fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket. My heartbeat felt louder than it should have.

"It’s... complicated," I said. "And a little insane. But I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it could work."

That earned me a soft hum of consideration. Belle never rushed decisions. She leaned back slightly, resting one hand on the bed, the other still loosely holding her fork.

"You’ve been acting strange since I sat down," she said lightly. "Quieter than usual. That usually means you’re about to do something reckless."

"That’s hurtful," I replied automatically. Then, more honestly, "Also accurate."

She smiled faintly. I could hear it in her voice even if I couldn’t see it.

"What do you need from me?"

The simplicity of the question nearly knocked the air out of my lungs.

"I need you to take off the blindfold," I said.

That made her still.

The room felt different after that, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. Belle’s fingers brushed the fabric at the edge of the blindfold but didn’t lift it yet.

"You’re sure?" she asked quietly.

I swallowed. "As sure as I can be."

A pause. Then a slow nod.

"Alright," she said. "I trust you."

Those three words carried more weight than any oath I’d ever sworn.

She reached up and carefully untied the blindfold, letting the fabric slide free. I didn’t look at her eyes yet. I couldn’t. Not until I was ready. Not until Bastard confirmed everything one last time.

I closed my eyes instead.

And turned inward.

The familiar presence was already there, lounging in the back of my mind like he owned the place. Which, annoyingly, he sort of did.

{About damn time,} Bastard drawled. {I was starting to think you’d chicken out and propose instead.}

"Not funny," I replied. "I need you focused."

{I am focused. You’re the one shaking.}

I clenched my jaw. "I’m ready. I think. But I want you to explain it again. Slowly. No clever metaphors. No shortcuts."

For once, Bastard didn’t tease me.

{Alright,} he said, voice shifting into something sharper, more precise. {Listen carefully, because once we start, there’s no stopping halfway.}

I steadied my breathing.

{First step. You split your dualflow. Clean division. Fifty percent aligned to death, fifty percent aligned to life. No bleed, no overlap. If you let them mix too early, you’ll either destroy the curse too violently or regenerate it by accident. Both are bad outcomes.}

"Death on one side. Life on the other," I murmured.

{Correct. The death-aligned dualflow will target the curse itself. Not her eyes. Not her nerves. The curse. Think of it as a parasite bound to her perception. It isn’t physical, but it has structure. Death energy excels at dismantling structure.}

"That’s the part that scares me," I admitted. "The curse is old. Stubborn."

{Which is why you aren’t just erasing it,} Bastard replied. {You’re distracting it.}

I frowned internally. "Distracting it?"

{Yes. When the death dualflow makes contact, the curse will fight back. It will cling harder, tighten its grip, try to preserve itself. That’s when you act.}

"And the life dualflow?"

{You send it in from the opposite direction. Along with a fragment of your consciousness. Not enough to get you trapped, just enough to guide the energy.}

My pulse spiked. "You didn’t emphasize that part last time."

{Because you panic when I do.}

I ground my teeth. "What does that fragment do?"

{It convinces the curse that what’s happening is healing, not destruction. Life energy doesn’t just repair tissue. It reinforces identity. It tells the body what it’s supposed to be.}

I went still.

"You’re saying..." I hesitated. "You’re saying Belle’s body remembers how to see."

{Exactly,} Bastard said. {The curse didn’t remove her eyes. It overrode the instruction. You’re restoring the original blueprint while the death energy keeps the curse too busy screaming to interfere properly.}

"And the blindness?"

{Permanent only as long as the curse exists,} he replied calmly. {Once it’s gone, the damage it enforced stops being enforced. The life dualflow finishes the job. Her eyes heal. Neural pathways reconnect. No scar tissue. No residual degradation.}

My throat tightened.

"And the risks?" I asked quietly.

There it was. The part I needed to hear even if I hated it.

Bastard didn’t dodge it.

{If your division slips,} he said, {you could annihilate the curse and her optic nerves together. If your life flow overwhelms too early, you could reinforce the curse instead. If your consciousness fragment goes too deep, you could get stuck riding the healing loop and lose yourself for a while.}

"A while?" I repeated.

{Hours. Days. Worst case.}

I exhaled slowly.

"And Belle?"

{Pain,} Bastard said bluntly. {A lot of it. The curse has been part of her for years. Removing it will feel like tearing something out that convinced her it belonged there.}

I opened my eyes.

The room came back into focus.

Belle sat in front of me, blindfold gone, her face turned toward my voice. Her eyes were open.

They were... unfocused. Clouded, like light reached them but didn’t quite know where to go. Still, they were beautiful. A deep, familiar darkness that made my chest ache.

She didn’t flinch under my gaze.

"Are you done talking to yourself?" she asked gently.

I huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. "Yeah. Sorry."

She studied my face, searching for something in my expression. "That was a long conversation."

"It was important."

She nodded once. "Then tell me what you’re about to do."

I didn’t lie to her.

"I’m going to try to break the curse on your eyes," I said. "And heal the damage at the same time."

Silence.

Then, softly, "Is it dangerous?"

"Yes."

"Dangerous for you, or for me?"

I met her gaze squarely. "For both of us."

She didn’t look away.

After a moment, she reached out and took my hand, squeezing once. Firm. Grounding.

"Then start," she said.

My chest felt too full.

I lifted my hand and gently placed my palm over her eyes. She leaned into the touch without hesitation. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers.

I closed my eyes again, focusing inward.

"Bastard," I said out loud, my voice steady despite everything twisting inside me. "Start."

{Acknowledged,} he replied.

The world narrowed.

I felt my dualflow respond immediately, surging up like a tide that recognized the moment as inevitable. I split it carefully, exactly as instructed. One half sank into a cold, precise stillness. Death. Absolute. Surgical.

The other half burned warm and bright. Life. Restorative. Insistent.

The death-aligned dualflow flowed first, threading through my palm and into Belle’s eyes. The moment it touched the curse, I felt resistance. A violent, shrieking pressure, like something alive realizing it was being hunted.

Belle gasped.

Her fingers dug into my sleeve, nails biting through fabric. She didn’t pull away.

I held firm.

The curse lashed back, energy flaring wildly, trying to anchor itself deeper. That was my cue.

I sent the life dualflow in.

Along with a piece of myself.

The sensation was... indescribable. Like stepping into someone else’s memory and body at the same time. I felt echoes of Belle’s perception. Darkness layered with expectation. Sight remembered but denied.

I guided the life energy carefully, reinforcing what should have been there. Neural paths lighting up. Tissue responding. Identity reasserting itself.

The curse screamed.

Not in sound. In defiance.

The death dualflow tightened, tearing into its structure, dismantling it strand by strand.

Belle cried out, her body arching as pain tore through her. I held her steady, refusing to let go.

"I’ve got you," I whispered, over and over. "I’ve got you."

Inside, Bastard’s voice was sharp and focused.

{Steady. Don’t rush it. Let it die properly.}

"I know," I replied through clenched teeth.

The resistance weakened.

Then fractured.

Then collapsed.

The curse unraveled, its influence dissolving into nothingness under the combined pressure of death and life. The moment it vanished, I felt the shift. A sudden, profound rightness snapping into place.

Life energy surged, completing the healing without opposition.

I pulled my consciousness back, gasping.

My hand trembled against Belle’s face.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then Belle went very still.

Her breathing hitched.

"...Sebastian?" she whispered.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it might tear itself free.

"Yeah," I said hoarsely. "I’m here."

Her eyes blinked.

Once.

Twice.

And then—

She sucked in a sharp breath.

"I..." Her voice broke. "I can—"

I didn’t let her finish.

I dropped my hand and stared straight into her eyes.

Really looked.

And for the first time, she looked back.