The Extra's Rise - Chapter 366

Chapter 366: Winter Break (6)
“Wow, to think the great Arthur Nightingale is making time for his cute sister, how absolutely noble of you!” Aria declared with exaggerated reverence, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I shot her a withering glare that only made her grin wider. She was lounging comfortably in the self-driving car, looking every bit the modern teenager in her light denim jacket layered over a crisp white t-shirt and artfully ripped jeans. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, a few strands framing her face—deliberately casual in that way that actually took significant effort.

“You’re the one who practically begged for this outing,” I reminded her, adjusting the sleeve of my own short-sleeved navy shirt. I’d paired it with dark jeans that, I now realized with mild horror, matched my sister’s almost exactly.

“We’re matching,” Aria pointed out gleefully, noticing at the same time. “How adorable. I should take a photo for your fan club.”

“I don’t have a fan club,” I said flatly, though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true. The events at Mythos Academy had garnered more attention than I’d anticipated.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she replied, tapping away at her phone. “I get at least three DMs a day from girls asking about you. ‘Is your brother seeing anyone?’ ‘Does he like brunettes?’ ‘Can you get me his contact?'” She mimicked each question with increasing dramatic flair.

“And what do you tell them?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.

Aria’s grin turned positively feline. “That you’re unavailable. Very, very unavailable.”

“Is that so?” I smirked. “And what gave you that impression?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with exaggerated innocence. “Maybe the four beautiful ladies who arrived at our home and immediately made themselves comfortable in your personal space? The way Cecilia looks ready to incinerate anyone who stands too close to you? The territorial dance they perform whenever another woman enters your orbit?”

The car glided smoothly through the city streets, its navigation system occasionally announcing upcoming turns in a pleasant voice. Outside, Avalon’s familiar architecture slid past—the mix of modern high-rises and restored historical buildings that gave our city its distinctive charm.

“Speaking of which,” Aria continued, her tone shifting to something more genuine, “I know you’re taking time off, but aren’t you usually obsessing over training schedules and mana manipulation techniques by now?”

I watched the city pass by through the window. “The Aspect wall is blocking my progression to Resonance. Until I find a way past it, pushing harder won’t accomplish much. Sometimes patience is the better strategy.”

“Spoken like someone who’s already third-ranked at Mythos,” she muttered, a hint of something vulnerable breaking through her teasing facade.

I turned to look at her properly. “How was your first semester at Slatemark? You never really told me.”

Aria suddenly became fascinated with a loose thread on her jacket. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” I prompted.

“I ranked ninety-fifth,” she admitted quietly. “Out of a hundred.”

The number hung between us for a moment. Unlike me, Aria had never shown exceptional talent in combat or mana manipulation. While I had been blessed with remarkable affinity across multiple elements, she struggled with even basic techniques.

“That’s five spots higher than failing out completely,” she continued with forced lightness. “So… progress?”

I felt a protective surge rise within me. “The ranking system is flawed. It prioritizes combat potential over other skills.”

“Skills like what? Being able to hack the cafeteria menu to get extra dessert?” She laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Like strategic thinking. Creative problem-solving. Technical innovation.” I leaned forward, catching her gaze. “Not everyone needs to be a combat specialist. The world needs different kinds of talent.”

She blinked, seemingly surprised by my vehemence. “When did you get so wise, big brother?”

“I’ve always been wise. You’ve just been too busy being annoying to notice,” I replied, deliberately lightening the tone.

She punched my arm with surprising strength for someone who ranked ninety-fifth. “Jerk.”

“Brat.”

We shared a smile, the kind that only siblings can—equal parts exasperation and affection.

The car announced our arrival at Avalon’s renowned Riverside District, pulling up to Sakura’s—a fusion restaurant that had been Aria’s favorite since childhood.

A comfortable silence fell as we perused our options, broken only when the server came to take our orders. Aria, predictably, chose the spicy tuna fusion roll—her standard since she was twelve. I opted for the chef’s special.

Our food arrived, momentarily pausing the conversation. As we began eating, I found myself watching Aria—the precise way she mixed her wasabi, the childish delight she still took in good food, the determined set of her shoulders even when discussing her academic struggles.

A wave of protective affection washed over me. In my past life, I’d been alone—no siblings, no real family to speak of. Having this spirited, irritating, wonderful sister was something I never knew I needed until I had it.

“What are you staring at?” she asked, catching me watching her. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” I said simply. “I’m just glad you’re my sister.”

Her chopsticks paused halfway to her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise. Then, predictably, she recovered with a dramatic flourish.

“Ugh, don’t get sentimental on me, Arthur. I’m trying to eat here.” But the pleased flush on her cheeks betrayed her.

“Can’t help it,” I shrugged, stealing a piece of her roll despite her indignant squawk of protest. “Comes with the big brother territory.”

“Speaking of territory,” she said, smoothly redirecting the conversation, “are the four of them always so… intense? I mean, I thought you were exaggerating in your messages, but after seeing them up close…”

I allowed myself a small, confident smile. “That’s just their way. In their world, showing interest isn’t done subtly.”

“Subtly?” Aria’s eyebrows shot up. “Cecilia literally wrapped herself around your arm at breakfast like it was her personal property.”

“That’s her being restrained, believe it or not.”

Aria nearly choked on her water. “The noble ladies at Slatemark aren’t anything like them. They mostly keep to themselves and occasionally bestow benevolent nods upon us commoners.”

“Different personalities,” I said, remembering the early days. “Different upbringings.”

“And you’re… okay with all of them being interested in you?” she asked, unusually direct.

I met her gaze steadily. “I’m not opposed to the attention.”

“Wow,” she breathed, eyes widening. “So you’re actually considering… all of them?”

“I loved them all,” I replied calmly.

“That’s very bold of you,” Aria giggled, “I love having a front seat to all this drama though.”

I laughed softly.

For the next hour, I found myself sharing carefully edited versions of my encounters with each of the four women now residing in our penthouse. Aria listened with rapt attention, occasionally interrupting with questions or commentary that ranged from insightful to mortifying.

By the time we finished our meal and moved on to dessert—mochi ice cream for her, green tea parfait for me—Aria had somehow extracted more information about my personal life than I’d intended to share.

“So you’re playing it cool?” she asked incredulously. “Four powerful women are practically throwing themselves at you, and you’re just… weighing your options?”

I took a deliberate bite of my parfait. “What would you have me do? The situation requires… delicacy. Especially with my goal.”

Aria rolled her eyes. “Or you could just admit you enjoy having four beautiful women fighting over you.”

I didn’t bother denying it. “That too.”

She pointed her spoon at me accusingly. “I may be ranked ninety-fifth, but even I can see you’re playing a dangerous game, brother.”

“The whole world is a dangerous game,” I replied. “I’m just playing to win.”

“What about you?” I asked gently, changing the subject. “Are you happy at Slatemark?”

Aria’s smile turned wistful. “I’m getting there. It’s hard being in your shadow sometimes, you know? ‘Oh, you’re Arthur Nightingale’s sister? Are you as talented as he is?'” She mimicked the questions with only a slight edge to her voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it. “That’s not fair to you.”

“It’s not your fault you’re a prodigy,” she shrugged. “Besides, I’m carving out my own path. Even without special talents, I’ve got a good head for strategy. And I’ve made some good friends.”

“Anyone I should be concerned about?” I asked, only half-joking.

She laughed. “Now who’s being the protective one? No, not yet. Though there is this one boy in Class C who’s kind of cute…”

“I’ll need a name and full background check,” I said immediately, making her laugh harder.

“See? This is why I don’t tell you things.”

As we finished our desserts and prepared to leave, I found myself reluctant for our time together to end. These moments of normalcy were precious—a reminder that beyond the high-stakes world of Mythos Academy, beyond the looming threats I knew were coming, there was this: family, laughter, the simple joy of teasing a sibling.

“We should do this more often,” I said as we waited for our car.

“What, you mean you’re not going to spend the entire break locked in your room or entertaining your royal admirers?” Aria asked with mock surprise.

“I can multitask.”

She smiled, genuinely this time. “I’d like that.”

As our car arrived and we climbed in, I found myself thinking about family—the one I’d never had before, and the one I was lucky enough to have now. For all the complications of this new life, for all the dangers and challenges ahead, having Aria as my sister was a gift I wouldn’t trade for anything.

“What are you smiling about now?” she asked as the car pulled away from the curb.

“Just thinking about how fortunate I am to have such an annoying little sister,” I replied.

She punched my arm again, but leaned against my shoulder a moment later. “Right back at you, big brother.”

And in that moment, everything was perfect.