The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 70: Borrowed Hours

Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Borrowed Hours

Elyra stood by the academy’s side gate, just beyond the outer garden path, where the usual patrols didn’t pass until noon.

She wore black.

A long, fitted coat with silver trim and high collar, tailored to both elegance and movement. Her hair, normally braided tight, fell loose around her shoulders. A single crimson gem hung at her neck—small, understated, but unmistakably Estermont.

She held two sealed parchments in one hand.

Official passes, signed and countersigned.

And she waited.

’Today I have to be sure, I need to understand this strange feeling.’

Then came the sound of approaching steps.

Noel.

He wore a dark blue coat—deep, almost midnight in color—with silver fastenings and a subtle Thorne crest stitched onto one sleeve. His usual expression was there: unreadable, casual, a little bored.

But his eyes scanned everything, always.

He stopped in front of her, hands in his pockets.

"So. Are we breaking school law or just bending it creatively?"

Elyra smiled, just faintly.

"Neither. We’re following an exception clause—page seven, paragraph four."

"You just made that up right?"

"No."

She held out one of the documents.

"Special clearance. Two students for personal reasons. Signed by my good friend and president Myriel."

Noel took the parchment and raised an eyebrow.

"You forged Myriel’s signature?"

"Please," she said dryly. "She gave me the ink."

Noel glanced at the city walls beyond the garden path.

"This better not be some assassination plot."

"Only of your stress levels."

She turned and began walking.

Noel followed.

And just like that, the gate shut behind them.

No missions.

Just time.

Borrowed time.

The city of Valon was alive in ways the academy never could be.

Mana lanterns floated above cobblestone streets, casting shifting patterns of soft light. Vendors called out from open booths stacked with enchanted trinkets, glowing fruits, and hand-bound spell scrolls. Musicians played instruments powered by rhythm sigils, blending sound with soft pulses of color.

And in the middle of it all—

Noel and Elyra walked together.

Elyra moved with purpose, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. Noel followed, eyes drifting to every strange item and detail.

Floating scarves charmed to shift color.

Glass orbs with miniature illusions of thunderstorms.

A dwarven booth selling fire-resistant gloves and "guaranteed non-lethal" potions.

They stopped at a vendor with chilled drinks served in carved ice cups, the liquid glowing faintly with mana.

"Berry or frost citrus?" Elyra asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Noel gave her a look.

"Whatever is best."

She smirked and ordered two frost citrus.

When he took a sip, he winced.

"It’s cold, bitter, and slightly electric."

"So you, then," Elyra replied, sipping hers with no expression.

"So... why all this?""What are we doing here, really? Is this an actual date, or is it just something tied to Seraphina?"

She didn’t answer right away.

Then, finally:

"There’s something I need to resolve."

Her voice was softer than usual. Not uncertain—just... quieter.

"Something that’s been bothering me for a while."

Noel’s brows drew together slightly.

"What kind of something?"

She gave him a small, evasive smile.

"You’ll know by the end of the day."

Noel narrowed his eyes.

"Cryptic. Very on brand."

"Would you have followed me out here if I told you up front?"

He took another sip of his cursed citrus drink.

"...Fair point."

The canal cut through the old quarter like a silver ribbon—its surface still, almost mirror-like under the glow of suspended mana lanterns. Each light floated above the water, anchored by nothing, casting gentle halos across the stone path.

Noel and Elyra walked slowly.

There was no hurry. No destination.

Just space to breathe.

Elyra walked slightly ahead, her hands clasped behind her back. Noel kept his pace even, eyes scanning the surroundings with habitual focus.

Then Elyra spoke, not looking at him.

"You’re strange, Noel."

He raised an eyebrow, slightly caught off guard.

"You act like nothing matters," she said calmly, "like everything’s beneath your interest—but you notice everything, all the small details."

She glanced sideways at him.

"You pretend to be cold. But you’re careful. Thoughtful. Even... kind, sometimes."

Noel gave a dry huff.

"Dangerous accusation."

"Don’t worry," Elyra said, eyes forward again. "I won’t tell anyone."

They passed a pair of elderly mages arguing over a levitating chessboard, the pieces glowing faintly as they hovered and clashed midair.

Clara would’ve stopped to watch.

Marcus would’ve challenged one of them.

Noel didn’t slow down.

Elyra finally asked:

"When’s the last time you let yourself just... exist?"

Noel didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze lingered on the water, watching the reflections distort and reform under the lantern light.

"...Been a long time."

Elyra looked at him, but said nothing.

And Noel didn’t elaborate.

They kept walking.

They sat by the water, on a weathered bench carved into the edge of the canal. The air was still. Lanterns glowed softly above them, casting warm halos on the stone path.

Elyra sat straight, legs crossed, hands resting on her lap. Noel leaned back, looking out at the quiet water, chin tilted slightly up as if the sky was easier to face than the person next to him.

But she didn’t let him off the hook.

"You remember what you said to me that day."

Noel didn’t answer. His expression didn’t change.

"In the old council room."

Still nothing.

"You were under the effect of that item—the one that forced you to answer truthfully. Three questions. You remember the third?"

Noel exhaled, slow.

"Yeah."

"I didn’t think much of it at the time," Elyra continued, voice calm. "But it stuck."

He still didn’t look at her.

"You told me you appreciated me."A beat."Not for my strength. Not for my mind. Not even for how dangerous I can be."

Her voice was softer now.

"But because I don’t pretend. Because I carry things and never look away. And because even when I should be chosen, I’m not."

She looked at him now.

"You meant it. Didn’t you?"

Noel closed his eyes for a moment, jaw tight.

Then nodded once.

"Yeah. I did, I mean I had no other choice you know."

"You’ve never said anything like that again."

"Because it wasn’t meant to be said out loud," he muttered.

"I wasn’t supposed to let that part out."

Elyra leaned back slightly.

"You didn’t. The item did."

He cracked a dry smile.

"Convenient scapegoat."

"Maybe." Her voice dropped a note. "But it still sounded like the real you."

Noel didn’t argue.

Because she was right.

Because it was the real Noel, the one who appreciated the characters from the novel.

The shop was tucked between two larger buildings, its entrance marked only by a small brass bell and a wooden sign with worn lettering: Aether & Ash – Curios and Keepsakes.

Elyra led them in without hesitation.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of polished wood and old enchantments. Shelves were packed with handmade items—rings that glowed faintly under moonlight, necklaces with shifting stones, small leather charms that whispered spells if held close enough.

Noel blinked once.

"This place is... not what I expected."

"Exactly why I brought you."

She moved toward a shelf filled with accessories—pins, bracelets, lapel charms—while Noel drifted toward a mirror where enchanted cuffs and necklaces floated mid-air for inspection.

He picked up a thin, dark bracelet inscribed with faint sigils.

"What does this one do?"

The shopkeeper, an older woman with white hair tied up in a high bun, looked over.

"That one glows when someone thinks about you."

Noel blinked again. He quickly put it back.

"Yeah, no thanks."

Elyra chuckled under her breath, still browsing.

Eventually, she pulled out two silver pendants: simple, sharp-edged designs that resembled abstract wings. Not flashy, not heavy. Just precise.

"Try this," she said, tossing one at him.

Noel caught it one-handed.

"You’re buying me jewelry now?"

"Try it."

He sighed, but looped the chain around his neck and looked at himself in the mirror.

It didn’t clash with his outfit. In fact, it... worked.

He frowned a little, adjusting it slightly.

From behind, Elyra spoke—so low she almost didn’t mean to say it aloud.

"...Cute."

Noel turned immediately.

"What?"

Her eyes widened just for a second.

Then she turned away toward the register like nothing happened.

"Nothing. You imagined it."

"Pretty sure I didn’t."

"Well, if you make me repeat it, I’ll deny it harder than a noble under oath."

The shopkeeper let out a single knowing laugh.

Noel looked back in the mirror.

And didn’t take the pendant off.

The walk back was quieter.

Not the strained silence of tension—the kind that settles in after laughter fades but comfort remains.

They took a slower route along the garden path behind the wall, where floating lanterns swayed gently above the trees. The night air was crisp, brushing against skin like the last whisper of winter. Somewhere in the distance, a soft wind chime rang once and fell silent.

Noel walked with his hands in his pockets, the pendant still resting cool against his chest beneath his coat.

Elyra’s steps were soundless beside him.

They stopped just short of the hidden side gate, the one she had opened hours ago.

Time had moved like water through his fingers.

For the first time in months, his mind wasn’t racing.

No predictions or plans.

Just... now.

He turned to say something—he didn’t even know what.

But Elyra stepped forward first.

She didn’t ask.

Didn’t warn him.

Her hand rose, fingers brushing gently against the collar of his coat as if adjusting it—

—and then her lips met his.

Soft.

Deliberate.

Just warmth and stillness, the faint scent of frost citrus still lingering on her breath, the feeling of silk-gloved fingertips pressing lightly against the side of his neck.

Noel didn’t react at first.

Couldn’t.

The world had gone very still.

And then it was over.

She stepped back, barely.

His lips still tingled from the contact.

His heart—damn it—was racing.

Elyra looked at him, gray eyes calm, unreadable... and then she smiled.

Not her usual smirk.

Something smaller.

"Well," she said softly."I’ve confirmed it."

Noel blinked.

"I like you, Noel."

Noel’s face turned bright red. Not just a light flush—full crimson, like a tomato on the verge of exploding.

"W–Why?? Why did you do that??" he stammered.

Elyra tilted her head slightly, still smiling.

"I told you. I like you."She stepped back a little, folding her arms. "And honestly? I think that kind of reaction is cute. I didn’t expect you to blush that hard. This... this feels more like the real Noel—not the broody, serious one you always pretend to be."

She turned on her heel, waving as she walked away.

"See you tomorrow, Noel."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he lifted a hand.

"Yeah... see you."

His hand stayed up for a few seconds too long, frozen in place as his mind struggled to catch up.He wasn’t sure what to think.