Transmigrating as an Extra, But the Heroine Has Regressed?!
Chapter 88: Chasing what was never mine.

Chapter 88: Chasing what was never mine.

He blinked and pulled back slightly.

And made an excuse.

"It’s getting dark," he said suddenly, forcing a light tone. "And... I didn’t sleep well last night. I should probably head back."

Cecelia froze for a moment, as if she hadn’t expected him to speak. Her expression didn’t

change, but her eyes had a flash of disappointment. Still, she gave a soft nod and smiled.

"Of course. We can head back."

(don’t tell me that she....), Kael thought.

Kael stood up, brushing the grass from his trousers, and offered her a hand. She took it, rising gently to her feet. Neither of them spoke as they walked down the path back toward the terminal station.

The light around them had faded into deep violet, and small lanterns lit the way, floating like stars just above the path.

Kael walked in silence beside Cecelia, his hands tucked in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched.

He kept his eyes low, staring at the cobblestones, at the flickering lanterns lining the path, even at the grass between the cracks—but he didn’t dare look at her.

He could still feel the warmth of her presence beside him. That moment they’d shared near the fountain—so close, so intimate—it lingered in his chest like a flame that wouldn’t go out. The memory of her leaning in, the look in her eyes, and how their lips were just inches apart.

It wasn’t just awkward—it hurt. A dull ache tugged at him with every step he took away from that bench, from what might have happened.

A thought that hung to the edges of his mind:

(What if all of this isn’t real?)

(What if this is just a dream I’ll eventually wake up from?)

(What if none of this—Cecelia, the Academy, even this city—was ever truly mine to begin with?)

He didn’t belong here. He knew it. No matter how many smiles he shared or how many steps he took in this world, it always felt like he was walking through pages of a story someone else had written.

And if that was true, then what right did he have to hold onto a moment like that?

What right did he have... to feel something so real in a world that might be fake?

They arrived at the carriage station just as it was about to become night. A few people milled around—students, townsfolk—waiting for their rides back home.

Kael stepped ahead and quietly bought two tickets from the booth, slipping the coins into the vendor’s hand without a word. He handed one to Cecelia without meeting her gaze.

She took it, her fingers brushing his for a split second, but neither of them said anything.

Cecelia didn’t seem upset. She wasn’t cold or angry. Just... quiet. Her usual sharpness, the teasing smirk or playful glint in her eyes, had been replaced by something softer.

Thoughtful. As if she, too, was trying to understand what that moment meant—or why he had pulled away from it.

Kael stood beside her at the edge of the terminal, still staring off into the distance, pretending to study the passing carriages. But in truth, his thoughts were a storm.

He had tried to act like it didn’t affect him.

Tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter.

But it did.

It mattered too much.

And that terrified him more than anything else.

As they sat down inside the carriage and it began to roll back toward the Arcadia, Cecelia finally spoke again.

"You always have this look in your eyes," she said quietly.

Kael turned to her. "What kind of look?"

She looked out the window as the trees passed by, their shadows dancing along the road.

"Like you’re chasing something you’ve already lost."

Kael didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

So he just looked forward, hands folded in his lap, as the carriage carried them both back to the place where everything had started—while his heart still lingered behind, in the fading light of that park, beneath the glow of flying fish and almost-kisses.

The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It was the kind of silence filled with thoughts neither of them dared to speak.

Kael finally glanced her way—not directly, just enough to catch the edge of her sleeve in his peripheral vision. Then he cleared his throat softly and spoke.

"...Thank you," he said, his voice quiet but sincere. "For the uniform. I didn’t get the chance to say it earlier."

Cecelia didn’t respond immediately, but after a pause, she nodded. "It’s just a uniform," she replied, though her tone carried a faint warmth.

"But... I hope if it fits you.?"

"It will.."

Kael managed a faint smile.

A moment later, he added, "Tomorrow... I hope you come to the Academy. Madam Sylvia said she’ll be giving a lecture—something about how the midterm exams will be structured."

Cecelia blinked, then gave a small hum. "Ofcourse i will come."

The rest of the ride passed in thoughtful silence.

Eventually, as it approached the terminal stop—the end of the line, where cobblestone gave way to familiar walkways and lantern-lit paths leading back to the Academy dorms.

Kael stepped out first, then turned to offer a hand to Cecelia. She took it without hesitation.

They stood there for a second. Just standing. The night air was cooler now, the scent of grass and distant pine drifting in from the hills.

Kael hesitated, then gave her a small wave of his hand.

"...Good night," he said, forcing his voice to sound casual. "See you tomorrow, then."

Cecelia opened her mouth slightly, as if she wanted to say something—but then she just nodded.

Kael turned and walked away. Or at least, pretended to.

He made it a few steps down the path before he stopped, hiding just out of view behind a tree. He waited there, listening for her footsteps, wondering if she would look back.

But he didn’t turn around.

And as Kael walked away, something inside him stayed behind.

The memory of that park—soft and glowing—clung to him like the warmth of a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from.

He could still feel the gentle light of the floating lantern-fish above, and see the shimmer of their scales in the night air.

He could still sense her beside him—the quiet comfort of Cecelia’s presence, the way her shoulder had almost brushed his, the way her eyes had lingered just a moment too long.

And that almost-kiss...