Path of the Extra

Years later, the amount of hatred and contempt spread about the unworthy prince would be impossible to measure.

And yet…

And yet, the most ironic part of it all was that the so-called unworthy prince, Azriel Crimson, did not seem to care in the slightest.

At the very least, he never showed that he did.

It did not infuriate Azriel.

As for Jasmine, both then and now, her thoughts had always remained simple.

So what?

So what if Azriel had no talent?

So what if he could not use mana?

What did any of that matter to her?

Azriel was still Azriel. Her little brother.

She loved him then, and she loved him still.

Those rumors infuriated her. The people around her infuriated her. But what enraged Jasmine most was the cruelty of the ones she had expected it from the least.

Her own parents.

Azriel’s own parents.

As she had said, her memory was exceptional. Because of that, she remembered clearly how loving they had once been before their talents were assessed.

And so she also remembered the confusion on their faces that day.

Then, as they investigated the problem with Azriel further, that confusion slowly turned into disappointment.

And before long, there were barely any real memories left of the four of them ever truly being a family.

They neglected Azriel.

Just like that, Jasmine could no longer recall them ever showing him real love after he had been branded unworthy.

Perhaps they did love him.

Perhaps, once in a while, they showed it when no one else was around.

But that did not matter.

Not to her.

In Jasmine’s eyes, they had still neglected him.

The only mercy in all of it was that Azriel, back then, had not dwelled on it for very long. He had not been able to fully understand it. A different child his age might not have moved on so quickly.

And yet the thing Jasmine found even crueler was this:

Despite everything, despite branding him the unworthy prince with such disgust, they had still held on to those faint little expectations of him.

That somehow, one day, he would prove them wrong.

That somehow, he would reveal some hidden value.

Hope.

That was what some of them still had.

Hope that he might still be worth something.

It was only natural that Azriel had no desire to give them even that.

…Oh, how Jasmine would laugh at them now.

And condemn them too.

How wrong they had all been.

Look at him now.

Jasmine felt both terrified and proud.

She had been right.

And because she had been right, it also meant something else.

Azriel had barely even begun to use that terrifying talent of his.

He had already become an Expert without relying on it.

Just by surviving.

’His talent probably rivals mine. Maybe it even surpasses it… What happens if he actually uses it? If he starts cultivating his mana core… can I even keep up?’

…How terrifying.

The only thing holding Azriel Crimson back…

was Azriel Crimson himself.

“You were right,” Azriel said suddenly, staring ahead.

Jasmine, pulled out of her reminiscing, leaned back and looked at him in silence.

Azriel pressed his lips together, as if struggling with something. Then he spoke again, his voice low.

“…I don’t value my life.”

“…!”

“I don’t think I ever have.”

He had survived, but he had never really lived.

“Back when Nathan told me he thought it was weird that his mother did nothing—back when Lia was sick, and with the way I was being treated…” Azriel swallowed. “It was because I threatened to take my own life in front of her. I held a knife to my wrist.”

“What…?”

Jasmine looked mortified. Azriel did not dare meet her gaze, shame pooling heavy in his chest.

By then, the performance had changed. Bubbles were floating everywhere, and children ran through them, laughing as they tried to pop each one.

“It’s not like I want to die, though,” Azriel added suddenly, almost contradicting himself, making Jasmine bite down on her lip.

“But… I guess I don’t really care about my life either. Not deeply. Subconsciously, I’ve always known that—no matter how much I lied to myself. I kept coming up with excuses, trying to give myself a reason not to give up.”

His eyes narrowed, annoyed at his own words, and yet his tone was bleak.

“My thoughts were more like… ’After everything, there has to be something better on the other side,’ you know? There had to be a reason for everything I lived through. But I was desperate. So I gave myself these ’dreams’ and ’goals.’ Things like maybe opening a small coffee or tea shop someday.”

Jasmine couldn’t help but smile—then feel the sting of sorrow underneath it.

“Destroying [redo]. Wanting to see how all of this would end. Wanting a happy life. Convincing myself I had uncovered lies and grown as a person.” He exhaled. “But all of those were lies too.”

Lies after lies after lies.

He kept feeding himself more reasons to keep going, yet at the same time, Azriel was as self-destructive as a person could be.

Maybe he was punishing himself.

Jasmine didn’t know. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was a twisted kind of atonement.

But for what?

For his existence? For the life he had been forced into? Why did he carry that kind of blame like it belonged to him?

Looking at Azriel, Jasmine could tell he was still holding something back. There was a deep self-condemnation in those beautiful crimson eyes.

“What are you not telling me?” she asked softly, though the words came out heavier than she intended. “There’s a reason you’re telling me this. A reason you’re trying to make me understand why you think your death wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

She practically had to force the words out.

The atmosphere between them was dark and suffocating, completely at odds with the bright festival scene in front of them. It was only natural that Jasmine felt sick.

Azriel smiled like someone who had finally given up resisting. He glanced at her for only a moment before looking down again.

“Remember what I said about how my family died?”

Jasmine’s expression darkened as she nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Your other self… with [redo] beheaded them.”

Azriel answered after a slight delay.

“…My memories as Leo Karumi are different.”

Jasmine frowned, confused. She thought she understood what he meant—yet at the same time, she wasn’t sure she did. Thankfully, Azriel continued.

“As Azriel, I saw them get killed by my previous self. But as Leo… I still remember that day. Two police officers knocked on my door and told me my family had died in an accident…” He paused.

“Aside from my mother.”

Jasmine almost shot up from where she sat.

“S-she was alive?!”

Azriel nodded once.

“I rushed to the hospital with them. They tried to stop me from entering the room she was in, but I pushed past them and forced my way through the door. She was still half-conscious. And maybe because everyone was trying to drag me out of the room, her eyes landed on me. She recognized me…”

Azriel suddenly fell silent. His lips pressed together again, and for a moment he struggled to say what he wanted. As though the words physically hurt to say. When he finally did, his voice was so quiet it almost disappeared into the air.

“But the moment she recognized me… all I saw in her eyes was hate.”

’Oh.’

That woman… she had been a great part of Azriel’s life. No matter what horrible things she had done, he would never truly be free of her.

“They dragged me out of the room after that.”

Looking drained, Azriel rubbed his face and dragged a hand down it, letting out a tired, muffled groan.

Jasmine thought that was it.

She could not have been more wrong.

“Apparently… she was pregnant.”

“Huh?”

Jasmine felt her mind go blank. Which was impressive, considering how many shocks she had already taken today.

“I didn’t know either. Not until about an hour later.” Azriel’s voice turned hollow. “Mother died on the operating table. They tried to save the baby… but they couldn’t.”

Though Azriel did not cry, his eyes were red.

And now that he had stopped talking, Jasmine felt the smallest trace of relief—only because it meant he was finally finished.

She still asked anyway.

“So you blame yourself for that too?” Her voice came out plaintive.

“…If I had made any other choices… they would have never died.”

“You are not God.”

“…”

“No one’s death was on you.”

“You are wrong. If I had paid more attention to her, I would’ve realized she was pregnant. Instead I only made bad choices.” Azriel’s jaw tightened. “See, there was a restaurant we used to go to whenever Mother felt sad—or exhausted after a hard day at the hospital. Doctors naturally have plenty of days like that. It became a habit: once a month, the whole family would go together. But I failed to notice that for the past four months she had lessened her workload. And during those months, I didn’t go with them. I always had some excuse—anything to avoid being with them… so I didn’t know they stopped going to that restaurant and started going to another one.”

Gritting his teeth, Azriel forced the words out as though they burned his throat.

“But after our fight, they decided to go back to the usual place. Not because Mother was sad or exhausted from work—because of me. Because of the fight I caused. That’s why they didn’t go to the restaurant they were originally planning to go to that day. If it wasn’t for me, they would have never taken that road. If I had just kept my mouth shut, or apologized… if I hadn’t made those stupid choices—if I had just listened to her…”

With every word, his voice shook more and more. His head hung low as he leaned forward, hiding his face from Jasmine, though she could imagine the pain carved into it.

“…Dammit,” he whispered at last.

For a moment, Jasmine couldn’t find her voice.

…Yes. If he had made different choices, they might have lived. Azriel wasn’t wrong. Maybe they did die because of his actions.

But then—at what cost would it have been if they had lived?

And besides…

“…I don’t understand how she was ’alive’ in the hospital,” Jasmine said quietly, forcing the words through the tightness in her chest, “when she was already supposed to be dead by your previous self. But… I think that even if you had chosen another path… you couldn’t have saved them.”

Her throat tightened.

“They were simply destined to die. No matter what.”

“…”

Azriel said nothing.

Jasmine wasn’t sure whether she was right or wrong for saying it, but she believed it. As confusing—and headache-inducing—as it was, it felt true.

How could Jeanne already be dead, yet Leo still remembered her alive in the hospital?

Was it really Jeanne? Was it someone else?

If Leo remembered it, did others remember it too?

Were everyone’s memories manipulated?

How?

Why?

Too many questions.

But there was one thing Jasmine knew.

She had been wrong about one thing.

…That lie Azriel and Leo had created in their mind.

It hadn’t been chipped away entirely.

Not until now.

Looking at his slumped form, Jasmine felt a deep, aching sadness—because…

She was the reason he was remembering all of this pain.

There had only been a small part left, one last fragment that still kept the whole truth from being fully exposed. Azriel had been using that fragment to bury everything, even as it slowly broke his mind.

But when Jasmine and Azriel fought—when he felt the fear of her abandoning him, and then the pressure of being forced to tell her the truth—he had been left with no choice.

He had to acknowledge it.

And that final acknowledgement chipped the lie apart completely, once and for all.

Azriel had told the truth to Jasmine…

and finally, to himself.

It was Jasmine’s fault—and yet she could not regret it. As much as it disgusted her, as much as it made her hate herself, she truly couldn’t.

“Sorry.”

Her head snapped toward him in shock.

“Why are you apologizing to me?” There was a hint of anger in her voice—anger she immediately regretted letting slip, because if anyone needed to apologize, it was her.

Azriel didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe he didn’t notice. He still didn’t lift his face.

“…It must be a lot, no? Knowing I lived a whole different life—where so much happened—where I might not even be your real br—”

“You are my brother. I don’t care what you think, but I’ll keep reminding you until you accept that fact.”

Jasmine cut him off, her gaze disapproving and stern.

He let out a small laugh.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.”

They’d already had this conversation before, but it was going to take a few more, it seemed, before he stopped thinking otherwise. That was Jasmine’s conclusion.

“…I see.”

He let out a long sigh, finally sitting upright again, and rubbed his face with both hands.

Feeling like something had to be said, Jasmine warned him.

“…I won’t allow you to kill yourself.”

Azriel stopped rubbing his face and looked at her, confused.

“I’m not looking to die.”

“You say that, but it’s just like you said—given the opportunity, you will.”

Azriel frowned, but Jasmine spoke faster before he could interrupt.

“Are you going to tell me you haven’t, at the very least, thought of a way to take down Pollux even if it costs your life?”

Immediately, Azriel looked away and stayed silent.

…Just last week he had almost started trying to create a mana contract.

Maybe it was best not to mention that.

Jasmine, knowing she was right, could only sigh in exasperation.

“As I said, I won’t allow you to throw your life away. I’ll stop you no matter what.”

When Azriel looked back at her, he could tell she wasn’t joking. Not even slightly. Her voice and eyes were as serious as they had ever been.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t react. Jasmine let it rest for now, but the frustration still churned in her chest when he refused to acknowledge it.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she suddenly stood up from the bench—and like the wildest mood swing imaginable in the middle of that suffocating atmosphere, she looked at him with a bright, sunny smile.

“Alright. Enough moping around. Let’s go enjoy the festival, finally!”

Azriel’s eyes widened. He stared at her as if she had lost her mind.

“You still want to try and have fun? Seriously?” After everything he had just said—painting himself as some irredeemable monster, and telling her the tragedy of Leo…

She… she really was mad.

Those thoughts were practically written on his face. Jasmine kept smiling and nodded, smartly ignoring the insult in his eyes.

“You’d rather cry instead?”

“…No,” Azriel denied, still looking at her dubiously.

“Then what? There’s no point in us spending the rest of our—possibly—free time depressed. There are a lot of issues to work on. I know that clearly now. But nothing will be fixed today, even if we wanted it to be. So let’s at least try to make something positive out of whatever is left of today, alright?”

Azriel hesitated. If he truly didn’t want to, Jasmine wouldn’t force him. Today had been heavy, and it would be understandable if he wanted to call it a day.

Honestly, she wanted the same—but…

All that would do was trap them in their own gloomy minds, and they would spiral into something worse.

“…Fine.”

Luckily, Azriel seemed to understand, even if he still looked drained and hollow. He must have agreed for Jasmine’s sake.

That was who he was.

When it came to his family, Azriel was the kindest person she knew.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Woah—wait!”

Azriel exclaimed as Jasmine grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet, and started dragging him along.

Almost immediately, they heard a familiar, cheerful voice.

“Master~ Jasmine~ we’re back—with food!”

They turned.

Nol was carrying two entire buckets filled with different kinds of food—skewered snacks, fried chicken, and things Jasmine didn’t recognize. Beside him walked Celestina. Strangely enough, she was holding an open, pure silver fan that looked expensive, covering most of her face. Jasmine could have sworn she saw it in her eyes—the effort it took for Celestina not to look openly proud of her purchase.

In front of the silver-haired pair was Lia, munching on cotton candy.

Their timing was perfect.

Too perfect.

For a moment, Jasmine almost believed they had been waiting for them to finish. But Jasmine was always on high alert—even while Azriel had been speaking. She would have noticed if someone had been watching, listening, or sneaking up on them.

…In the end, she had to accept it as coincidence.

Especially since it clearly hadn’t just been food they’d bought in the hours they were gone.

And honestly—how lucky for them that Jasmine had been too preoccupied with her little brother to go searching for them earlier.

*****

“Are you alright, Azriel?”

Celestina snapped her fan shut, looking at him with mild concern as they walked together. She held Lia’s hand in one of hers. Her question caught Nol’s attention too—he glanced over, his mouth still shiny with the oily grease of whatever he’d been eating—as they searched for a larger, quieter spot to sit down.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

’Is there something on my face? Are my eyes still red?’

But Celestina shook her head, to his relief.

“No, it’s just… I thought you seemed upset.”

“…I’m fine,” Azriel replied casually, looking forward again.

“I apologize for assuming.”

Azriel glanced at her and studied her side profile for a moment. His lips curved—barely—for a second before his gaze returned straight ahead. Nol had already gone back to eating, walking in front beside Jasmine.

“It’s fine. Thanks for worrying.”

“No worries.”

Then, suddenly, a sharp sound cut through the air—something like a launched projectile.

Nol, Jasmine, and Celestina froze, instantly alert, turning toward the source.

Azriel stayed calm. He recognized the sound. Even though it had been ages, he knew it.

He looked up.

A thin spark climbed into the dark—like a stray star that had lost its place in the sky.

Then light bloomed high above them, splitting into dozens of burning fragments that scattered across the night. Silver streaks spread outward like petals opening all at once, so bright it almost looked like daylight for a heartbeat. The sparks shimmered as they fell, breaking into smaller lights that twinkled before vanishing completely—like snow made of stars.

More followed.

The night was no longer dark, but alive with color—gold, silver, violet, and red—each firework bursting open in the sky. Everyone stood still, drawn into it, collectively staring up at the shifting painting above them. Azriel heard Celestina, Nol, Jasmine, and even the child exclaim in surprise and awe.

He turned his head slightly, watching them as they stood there, enamored.

In their world, fireworks were so rare they might as well not exist. Ever since the Great Reversal, they had been banned in the early years out of fear that the noise and light would attract Void Creatures.

It made sense that even for the two princesses, this was a first.

Azriel’s gaze moved from Jasmine to Nol, and then to the girl beside him.

A conversation resurfaced in his mind.

———”Have you still not tried reading the book I recommended, Leo?”

———”The one where the protagonist is a degenerate, disloyal pervert with a harem? You know I don’t read stories like that.”

———”Ugh, come on. Just give it a chance! For me! There’s so much more to it than it just being a harem story!”

———”Alright. Tell me. Like what?”

———”W-well… Ugh, it’s a bit awkward to say out loud now, but… some characters remind me of people we know. Like, they have similarities.”

———”Who?”

———”F-for example, there’s a character called Vergil. He reminds me of our buddy Gil! They’re both always so sleepy!”

———”As is the average high school student.”

———”Y-yeah, but just like Gil started streaming his games, this Vergil streams something similiar too!”

———”I don’t see it.”

———”Okay, fine—when you say it like that, it sounds normal. But it feels different when you’re actually reading it. And there’s a character named Anastasia, same as our vice president. Her personality is completely different from our Anastasia, though. It’s funny.”

———”Then are you similar to someone?”

———”Of course! Who else could I be but the amazing protagonist? We’re both great heroes!”

———”All you are is a body that wastes oxygen.”

———”Hmph. Let’s see… Oh! The character ’Jasmine’ loves chocolate just like Lia!”

———”You really think I’m going to read a book because a character shares the same taste as Lia?”

———”I guess not…”

——— “What about me?”

——— “You? Hmm… I don’t know. There’s this character called Solomon, but maybe Lioren? No, they don’t suit you either… I don’t know, honestly. There are a lot of characters, but one that would remind me of you? Eh… well, Jasmine did have a little brother, apparently. But he was an extra, barely ever mentioned, aside from his death being the reason she was so depressed and cold at the beginning of the story… Maybe you would be like him? Nah, not him either. I don’t know, honestly.”

——— “How boring.”

———”T-then…”

———”Nathan?”

———”Then what about this character… ’Celestina.’ She reminds me a lot of someone we… used to know. They’re really similar… personality, the way they talk… and their love for… strawberries. Celestina and… Lea.”

The fireworks reflected in Celestina’s eyes as she stared up, mesmerized. Her eyes reminded Azriel of that first silver firework.

Noticing his stare, Celestina turned toward him and smiled—so bright it felt like it belonged among the lights above.

“The fireworks are so pretty, aren’t they, Azriel? Ah… to think our world deprived us of something this lovely.”

“Yeah…” Azriel murmured, his voice softer than before. “They really are.”

Her attention drifted back to the sky as more colors bloomed and shattered overhead.

“When we make it back home, I’ll ask Father to reinstate fireworks,” Celestina said quietly.

Azriel’s features softened without him meaning to—something solemn and something warm mixing together.

’Hey, Nathan… I guess you were right all along.’

’No…’

’…You knew, didn’t you? That these characters and our people…’

Azriel stopped his thoughts before they could go any further.

“I’ll ask the same,” he said out of nowhere.

Celestina’s smile widened as she hummed happily, focused on the fireworks.

’…I guess now I know.’