Extra is the Heir of Life and Death

Chapter 228 228: Choking on...

I woke up choking on my own breath.

For a moment, I genuinely thought the metal collar was still around my neck.

My hands flew up before I could stop them, fingers digging into skin that was bare, warm, unbranded. No cold iron. No engraved sigils. No invisible leash tugging at my spine.

Just sweat.

Sheets tangled around my legs. The early gray of dawn pressing through the dormitory curtains. My heart thundering so violently I half expected someone to burst into the room and accuse me of hiding contraband rhythm in my chest.

I sat up slowly.

I remembered everything.

The castle. The endless scrubbing. The polished marble floors that reflected nothing but my own pathetic shape. The collar. The sounds behind that door. The jealousy. The stupid, impulsive curiosity.

And the golden eyes.

God.

I pressed my palms against my face and exhaled, long and shaky.

It had been a dream.

It had not been a dream.

It had been too vivid. Too structured. Too deliberate. Like someone had carved it into my skull instead of my subconscious making a random mess of impressions.

I swallowed.

Xavier.

In the dream, that had been my name.

Blonde hair. Red eyes. Slave.

Killed for looking.

I could still feel the moment the master noticed me. The shift in air. The way my body had gone cold before I even understood why. The humiliation of being dragged out like a pest. The pain. The anger. The way I had cursed fate instead of admitting I had been an idiot.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees.

Why had I cursed fate?

Why hadn't I cursed myself?

The memory burned worse than the torture.

Because it wasn't just about the dream.

It was about me.

I shut my eyes.

Was it truly wrong…?

The question slithered into my thoughts before I could stop it.

Was it truly wrong that I wanted to know how Vice-Principal Belle looked underneath all those immaculate, perfectly tailored clothes?

I flinched at my own honesty.

It wasn't like I was some degenerate lurking in shadows. I didn't spy. I didn't sneak into her office. I didn't do anything.

But I had thought about it.

More than once.

Belle Ardent carried herself like a weapon disguised as silk. Every line of her posture was deliberate. Every glance was calculated. Even the way she tucked her hair behind her ear sometimes felt like choreography.

She was beautiful.

Anyone with eyes could see that.

But Sebastian—

Sebastian didn't just see it.

He held it.

And that was the part that gnawed at me.

I groaned quietly and dragged a hand through my hair.

Jealousy was such an ugly thing when you looked at it directly. It wasn't noble. It wasn't tragic. It was petty and small and childish.

Sebastian was my friend.

He hadn't stolen anything from me. I had never confessed. I had never even hinted. I had simply assumed my feelings would remain quiet, tucked away like spare change in a pocket.

And then one day, Belle started looking at him differently.

And he started looking back.

And the entire friend group knew.

We never said it.

We were all too polite for that.

But Kent had once choked on his drink when Belle had casually adjusted Sebastian's collar during class. Nora had blinked too slowly. Lillith had smirked like she was watching a play she had already read the script to. Page had said nothing, which was even more suspicious than usual.

We knew.

We pretended we didn't.

Because that was what friends did when acknowledging something would make it complicated.

I lay back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling.

In the dream, I had been a slave.

In real life, I was free.

In the dream, I had envied a master who possessed power and beauty.

In real life, I envied my friend.

Was that the same sin?

The thought made my stomach twist.

Was it wrong to be jealous of my friends' happiness?

If Sebastian was happy, shouldn't I be happy for him?

Wasn't that what loyalty meant?

I exhaled slowly.

Yes.

It was wrong.

But knowing that didn't erase the feeling.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood, the chill of the dorm floor grounding me in reality. I walked to the mirror and paused.

Black hair. Dark eyes. No collar.

Just me.

I stared at my reflection for a long time.

"You're not a slave," I muttered.

The reflection didn't argue.

I showered longer than usual. Scrubbed harder than necessary. As if I could wash off the shame clinging to me from a dream.

When I finished dressing, my movements felt slightly off. A beat too slow. A touch too stiff. Like my body was still waiting for permission to exist.

By the time I reached the main corridor of Astralis Academy, the halls were already buzzing.

Students laughing. Arguing. Running late. The normal rhythm of academic chaos.

I spotted Sebastian first.

He stood near the staircase, animated as always, gesturing with both hands while explaining something to Kent. Nora leaned against the railing beside them, her white hair catching the morning light like frost.

He looked… normal.

Carefree.

Powerful, in that subtle way he always was now.

He laughed at something Kent said.

And I felt that familiar flicker in my chest.

Jealousy.

I hated it.

"Xaveir!" Nora called when she noticed me. "You look like you fought a ghost and lost."

"I did," I replied automatically.

Sebastian turned, grin easy. "You good?"

I held his gaze for a fraction too long.

He was my friend.

He had never wronged me.

He trusted me.

"I'm fine," I said.

Too quick.

Too clipped.

His smile faltered slightly, just a hairline crack. He noticed things like that.

"Didn't sleep?" he asked.

"Something like that."

Kent squinted at me. "You look like you discovered taxes."

"I'd prefer torture," I muttered.

They laughed.

I didn't.

That was the first mistake.

The entire morning, I felt wrong.

In class, I kept my eyes on my desk. When Belle entered, the temperature in the room shifted the way it always did when authority walked in. She greeted us calmly, posture flawless.

I did not look at her longer than necessary.

That was the second mistake.

Because avoiding was as obvious as staring.

Sebastian noticed.

Of course he did.

At one point, I could feel his gaze on me from two seats over. Curious. Concerned.

I kept my expression neutral.

I responded when called on. I answered correctly. I didn't trip over my words.

But every time Belle's voice carried across the room, the dream flickered at the edge of my mind. The door. The curiosity. The punishment.

And then the jealousy.

Was it wrong?

The question kept resurfacing.

At lunch, I sat slightly farther down the table than usual.

Close enough to be included. Far enough to breathe.

Lillith was mid-rant about some noble family's ridiculous etiquette rules. Page ate in silence. Kent nearly choked twice. Nora kept kicking Sebastian under the table for reasons known only to her.

Normal.

Everything was normal.

Except me.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair and glanced at me again. "You sure you're fine?"

"I said I am."

There was a sharpness there I hadn't intended.

The table went quiet for half a second.

I immediately regretted it.

Sebastian didn't react defensively. That almost made it worse. He just tilted his head slightly.

"Okay," he said gently.

Okay.

That word was heavier than it should've been.

The rest of the day dragged.

Every interaction felt like balancing on a thin sheet of glass. One wrong shift and it would crack.

I hated it.

By the final class, I had made a decision.

Avoidance was cowardice.

The dream had shown me that clearly.

In it, I had acted on impulse and been punished. In reality, I was acting on fear and rotting from the inside.

Neither was admirable.

When the final bell rang and students began packing up, I stood before I could lose my nerve.

"Sebastian."

He looked up immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Can you meet me in the empty classroom on the third floor? The one near the west wing."

He blinked once.

"Now?"

"Yes."

There was a subtle shift in his posture. He understood that tone. It wasn't casual.

"Sure," he said.

Kent raised a brow. "Ominous."

"Should we prepare a will?" Nora added.

"Or snacks," Lillith said thoughtfully. "Emotional confrontations require carbohydrates."

I ignored them.

Sebastian grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Give us a minute," he told the others.

They didn't push.

That was another reason I hated feeling this way.

We had something good.

I walked ahead, the hallway stretching longer than usual. Each step echoed faintly.

My palms were damp again.

When we reached the empty classroom, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Dust motes floated lazily in the late afternoon light. Desks were stacked against the walls.

Quiet.

Sebastian closed the door behind him.

He didn't joke. Didn't tease.

He simply looked at me.

"What's going on?"

And suddenly, I felt like that slave again.

Standing before something stronger. Brighter. More certain.

Except this time, there was no collar.

Only choice.

I inhaled slowly.

"I had a dream," I began.

It sounded stupid out loud.

But it was the truth.

Sebastian waited.

And for the first time all day, I forced myself to meet his eyes without flinching.

Whatever happened next would be mine.

Not fate's.