The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character

Fatigue took over my body as I took every step back toward my Academy dorm room.

Now that the threat seemed to be no more, every inch of adrenaline left my system, leaving only the heaviness of exhaustion behind. My legs dragged with each stride, the hallway lights blurring into soft glows in my peripheral vision.

The once-pristine road of the dormitory felt strangely foreign now.

Too quiet.

Too untouched.

As if the chaos I'd just endured existed in an entirely different world.

While walking back, no matter what I did, my thoughts kept drifting to Avi.

The decision to kill him instead of imprisoning him—handling it now instead of waiting for a safer time—I'd thought about it a lot. Over and over, I'd weighed the risks, the outcomes, the consequences. But no matter how many times I turned it over in my head, the same question kept surfacing.

Would Ryen have killed him?

Was there truly no other way?

Even now, my answer hadn't changed.

I had to kill him. There was no other path.

If only he'd been a little more sincere in his love... maybe something could've been salvaged. But in the end, what he felt wasn't love—it had long since rotted into obsession. Possessiveness. If I'd spared him, he wouldn't have thanked me. He would've hated me for it.

The weight of it all pressed down on me with every step. My limbs ached. My heart was even heavier.

Then—

"Oh my."

A voice brought me back to the present.

I blinked and looked up. I had nearly walked right past her.

Aria Collins.

Of course.

Somehow, she always showed up when something big ended. A quiet presence, almost forgettable. In the original story, she was one of the many extras fated to die in the background—just like Rin Evans.

"You're coming back from somewhere at this hour?" she asked.

"Well… yeah," I muttered, not really sure how much to say.

She paused, her eyes scanning me. "…You look really tired. Are you okay?"

We weren't close. Barely acquaintances, really. So the fact that she was asking meant I must look worse than I thought.

"…I don't know," I said honestly.

Then she hesitated, looking a little unsure, like she knew she might be overstepping. But still, she spoke.

"Um, I don't know what happened exactly, and maybe I'm being nosy… but please, don't regret it too much."

"…What?"

I hadn't meant to sound so sharp, but it came out harsher than I intended.

She could've taken offense. But instead, she just smiled softly, as if she understood.

"It's already done, right?" she said. "You wouldn't have done it if you were going to regret it. You did it because you believed it was the right choice. Right?"

I stared at her, momentarily speechless.

Somehow, her words hit harder than I expected.

Not because they were profound. But because they were simple. Grounded. And true.

I nodded slowly.

"…Yeah," I said. "I did."

"Then that's enough."

I didn't know what to say to that. She didn't even know what I'd done—had no clue about the weight I was carrying—but somehow, she still managed to say exactly what I needed to hear.

"…Thanks," I murmured, letting out a breath. "Didn't think you had it in you to comfort someone."

I gave her a tired smile.

She took a few steps toward me, and for a moment, I thought she was going to say something sincere. But then she paused and looked me up and down… with what I could only describe as pure disgust.

Wait—what the hell? Was that really disgust?

This little—

She clicked her tongue and shook her head slightly. "Like I told you before, I like observing people."

Then, casually—like it was no big deal—she added, "And on the way back to my dorm, I saw you. You looked even uglier than usual, so I figured I'd mess with you a little."

…I take it back. She really should have died like the extra she was supposed to be in the original story.

I rubbed my temples, letting out a sigh that came from somewhere deep in my soul.

"…Ah, shit. I almost felt touched."

She flashed a mischievous smile at me. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned against the wall with that same infuriatingly casual air.

"You did look kind of cool for a second, though," she said lightly. "All beaten up and tragic. Like a wounded hero returning from war."

I stared at her, deadpan. "…Are you seriously comparing me to a war hero right now?"

Aria shrugged. "I mean, your face has the same level of devastation. So yeah, kind of."

I groaned. "Wow. That was almost a compliment."

"Don't get used to it," she said with a smirk. "You'll probably go back to looking like a soggy mop by tomorrow."

"Thanks," I muttered. "Really boosting my confidence."

"You're welcome," she said, still smiling. "Confidence is important, even for soggy mops."

I let out a dry laugh before slumping slightly against the wall opposite her. My limbs still felt heavy, my mind heavier, but her absurdity was oddly… grounding.

"Why are you even out this late?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

She tapped her chin. "Taking fresh air."

"Taking fresh air," I repeated. "So you decided to stalk emotionally shattered classmates in the dark?"

"I prefer the term observe." She grinned. "And hey, if I hadn't been out here, who else would've witnessed your rare moment of vulnerability?"

"Yeah," I said, staring up at the ceiling. "God forbid my suffering go unnoticed."

She laughed, not unkindly.

"Anyway," she said after a moment, her tone softening again, "I meant what I said earlier. About not regretting it. Whatever it was, you looked like it cost you a lot."

I glanced at her. She wasn't smiling this time. No teasing in her eyes.

"…Yeah," I said quietly. "It did."

She looked down for a beat, then back at me. "You shouldn't carry it alone."

"I'm not," I lied.

She didn't call me out on it.

Instead, she nodded once, as if accepting the lie for what it was—an attempt to hold together the cracks.

"Well, if you ever get tired of pretending," she said, pushing off the wall, "I'm around. Not good at pep talks, but I've got popcorn. And a working sarcasm generator."

"…Is that your version of emotional support?"

"Hey, popcorn heals the soul," she said, walking past me now. "And sarcasm builds character."

"Right," I said, watching her go. "Thanks, Aria."

She paused at the end of the hall, turning her head slightly.

"Don't mention it. Seriously. It'll ruin my image."

And with that, she disappeared around the corner, her footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet.

I stood there for a moment longer, letting the silence return.

Somehow, despite everything, I felt just a little lighter.

Just enough to keep walking.