Randa stumbled back, trembling. Her throat tightened. She looked around for something, someone but the crowd was silent and tense. A few students looked away. Others stared.
And then—
Kowa stepped and held her gently
He was furious, his hands were trembling to teach this girl a lesson, but he didn't speak to giselle. He placed a hand on Randa's shoulder, shielding her with his presence. His usual playful face was gone. Replaced by something sharper. Protective. Unflinching.
"Stop this, Giselle. What the hell are you doing, making a scene at your own sister's funeral?"
"Look at your parents. Think about them."
"You're misjudging Randa's intentions. She came here because you're not alone. The least you could do is show her some respect."
Randa trembled in his grip, her body was small and shaken from the yelling and the slap.
She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, not just from crying, but from the way he stood up for her, how strong his arms felt around her. But this wasn't about her. Not right now.
She slipped free from his hold, gently untangling herself. Without a word, she crouched to the ground and began picking up the scattered coins, one by one, mud and dirt clinging to her fingers. She carefully placed them back inside the little box, then held it out again toward Mr. and Mrs. Nomar. Her hands were shaking. But she didn't flinch.
"I'm sorry for causing a scene," Randa said, forcing a small smile. "Please accept this… it I'd just a little offering. Kowa and I put together some of our savings. It's not much, but it might help you get through the month."
The grieving parents looked at her, eyes heavy with sadness, not anger.
"Please… don't mind our daughter," Mr. Nomar said softly.
"We raised both of them with these hands," Mrs. Nomar added, voice trembling. "Watched them grow side by side… laughing and crying, they were always together."
"And now one of them is gone," Mr. Nomar whispered. "And we know she's never coming back."
"This is hard for all of us."
Kowa watched it all unfold too, a knot tightening in his chest. It stung, watching randa stand there, trying to stay strong. His innocent, sweet and caring Randa. He wanted to protect her, to say something… but his eyes kept drifting to Giselle.
She had just lost her sister.
He understood that kind of pain, he had lost his own, too.
Before the silence could stretch, Giselle let out a sudden sob and lunged toward Kowa. Her arms clutched him tightly, and she collapsed against his chest, her cries muffled by his shirt. Her body trembled as she held onto him like a lifeline, her chest pressed against him, breath ragged.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" she gasped between sobs. "I'm not in my right mind. I—I don't know what I'm doing. This is too much. I can't take it. Please… forgive me…"
Kowa stood frozen for a moment, his expression tight with leftover anger. But as her tears soaked through his shirt, his shoulders softened. His jaw relaxed. He understood grief.
With a deep breath, he slowly brought his hand to her hair and gently stroked it, his fingers steady and calm. Letting her cry. Letting her fall apart safely.
Meanwhile, Randa lowered her gaze and took a slow step back. Her voice was quiet. Steady, but thick with guilt.
"I… I'm sorry," she said.
"To both of you mrs. and mr. nomar. And to you too, Giselle. I didn't mean to make this harder than it already is. I shouldn't have come. I'm ashamed of how it turned out."
She gave them one last look, it was full of regret and then quietly turned and walked away.
Kowa tried to pull away from Giselle's grip, but she held on tightly.
"Wait, Randa!"
Randa turned back with a small, gentle smile. "It's okay, Kowa. You're a good guy… you care about everyone, so stay here and help. I'll just be in the crowd with the others. Keep her safe, okay?"
Giselle shot her a look of pure disgust, her grip on Kowa tightening even more.
The sea roared behind the cliff, wild and endless, but Randa's steps were small. Gentle and fading.
Among the scattered crowd, Lal stood with her arms crossed, Isaac and longs were beside her, a few other students lingering close. They'd witnessed everything, the shouting, the slap, the trembling apology. And now, the girl who never spared Kowa more than a glance was buried against his chest like she owned it.
Lal's eyes narrowed. Her voice was low but razor-sharp.
"I can't believe her! She is full of drama, as always. She didn't care about Kowa, but now? Now she's clinging to him like he's her lifeline."
"It's not grief, it's a show. For Randa, for us, for whoever's watching."
"I don't like this girl," Isaac said to Lal, his voice low but thoughtful. "But if we look at it from her perspective... this is her sister's funeral. She must be hurting and very confused. Most people would be unsure of how to act in such situations. She needs time."
Lal couldn't help but giggle, "This is exactly why I picked you. What a sweetheart. she teased.
But despite her smile, her eyes darkened slightly. Not everyone deserved sympathy, she still believed that.
She glanced at Kowa, who looked conflicted, his arms holding Giselle out of reflex, but his eyes shadowed by discomfort. Embarrassed, maybe. He found himself stuck between decency and exhaustion.
Kowa glanced back across the crowd, his eyes locking with Lal's. His expression was soft but filled with concern, silently asking her to look after Randa.
Lal gave a subtle nod, her silent promise to keep Randa safe clear in her eyes.
She looked at Giselle next, her lip curled slightly.
"Even on a day like this, when her own parents are breaking… she still thinks everything is about her. People's lives, people's pain, it's just part of her little play."
She shook her head, the disgust too heavy to swallow. She turned from the scene, not out of indifference but out of care.
Lal wrapped her arm around Randa's shoulders and pinched her cheeks playfully. "Come on, sweetie, you don't have to stay here and watch this anymore."
Longs and Isaac exchanged confused glances. "Eh? Are we really leaving?" Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I thought there was gonna be food," Longs added, his stomach growling loudly.
The group burst into laughter, the tension in the air easing for a moment as Longs grinned sheepishly.
At the other side of the crowd:
Miss Beauty stood at the edge of the mourning crowd, arms wrapped around herself like the cold wind had gotten into her bones. But it wasn't the cold. It was the weight. Cydal leaving her. A student, HER STUDENT was murdered on school grounds. And the silence that followed it all was too loud to bear.
She didn't cry. Not yet. Not here. But the hollowness in her eyes said she'd cried before. Maybe all night. Or perhaps for much longer
Then came the scent of something too clean for this place. Shampoo. Cheap cologne. His new shirt not yet broken in. Lanjo arrived, late of course. Walking with that lazy slouch that made it look like the world was just one long hallway he didn't want to walk down.
"Sorry for leaving you here earlier," lanjo muttered, tugging at the collar of a shirt that clearly wasn't his. "I really don't like this dress, it suffocates me, but principal wouldn't let me go until I burned my old clothes and showered. He said to me I'd disrespect the dead lookin' like a corpse."
He rolled his shoulders and tugged at the tie, the too-tight noose around his neck, then glanced at Beauty like he was waiting for her to smirk or jab back with some sarcastic quip.
But she didn't even blink. No teasing. No snark. No smile. Just a quiet anger in her eyes, and a stillness that scared him more than any yelling could.
Lanjo frowned.
"What's wrong with you, woman? You vanish from school for months, then come back like you've swapped souls with someone else. You dress different. You talk different. But you still act more dead than you were before."
He reached for a cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. Before he could light it, Beauty snatched it from his mouth, her grip sharp. She slipped it between her lips, staring at him, her silence was demanding him to light it.
Lanjo raised an eyebrow but lit it anyway, watching as she inhaled, her focus was intense, like the smoke was the only thing keeping her grounded.
"You're pissed," he said simply.
"Not just about the girl. It's something deeper."
Beauty exhaled a puff of smoke, letting the silence linger. A faint smirk tugged at her lips as she muttered,
"Maybe it's because I'm pissed you haven't complimented the pretty girl right in front of you."
Lanjo blinked, then scanned the crowd, frowning. "Wait, there's a pretty girl here?"
SMACK!
Beauty slapped his head hard, the sound startled pigeons. "Don't mock me, you bastard!"
Like two squabbling kids, their banter quickly drew disapproving glances from the grieving crowd. The timing couldn't have been worse. A funeral wasn't the place for jokes, and they both knew it.
Beauty cleared her throat and dropped her teasing tone.
"Anyway… what happened with the investigation?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "What was the cause of her death? Please tell me the bastard left some kind of clue… What they did was monstrous. That poor Jiselle… she deserves justice."
Lanjo scratched his neck, looking more uncomfortable than usual.
"Yeah… about that. This one's a little unique. Or… maybe not, as it ties back to murders that stopped 5 years ago."
He glanced at her, gauging her reaction.
"Do you remember the murders from five years ago? The ones that suddenly stopped?"
Beauty's heart skipped. She remembered. Everyone did.
Lanjo continued.
"Jiselle had a dagger impaled straight into her spine. But it wasn't just any dagger, it was laced with a rare poison."
"Poison?" Beauty whispered.
"Yeah. It was a slow-acting substance.. it's properties shut down your nervous system piece by piece. Victims end up confused, terrified, trapped in their own bodies. Muscle spasms. Pain. Paralysis are common symptoms. Until death takes it away."
"Oh my god…" Beauty's hand trembled.
Lanjo's tone darkened, turning almost mechanical as he recited the next part.
"And it doesn't stop there. Her body showed signs of abuse. There were bruises. Internal trauma, broken legs, fractured spine. She was… raped. Her killer tortured her before she was killed.."
Beauty's face went pale. She turned away, unable to hold his gaze.
"That… that's exactly how the girls died five years ago," she whispered.
Lanjo nodded.
"Yeah it is the same method. It was same weapon with same cruelty. Everything matches with how the killer played with their victims until they died."
She looked back at him, voice shaking.
"So what does this mean? Are you saying the serial killer is back?"
He paused, expression unreadable, then said coldly:
"Either he's back… or he never left."
"I'm starting to think it's the first," Lanjo muttered, his voice low, almost hesitant.
Beauty narrowed her eyes at him.
"What are you suggesting?"
Lanjo met her gaze.
"Think about it. The murders began shortly after you brought that kid to town. They went on for months, young girls were the only targets, all the same pattern. Then… after the orphanage incident, when he was banished… everything stopped."
Her breath caught.
"You don't actually believe—"
"You don't think that's a solid clue?" he interrupted, quietly but firmly.
Beauty's voice cracked as she screamed, "Don't you dare!"
She shoved him back a step, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Don't you dare drag my Cydear into this! He would never do that! Besides he was a little kid back then, are you even listening to your own words?"
Lanjo didn't flinch. He lit another cigarette, his expression unreadable.
"I'm not saying anything… not until I have solid evidence. But until then—" he took a long drag and exhaled slowly, "my eyes are locked on that boy."
Beauty stood frozen, eyes distant. She didn't react the way Lanjo expected, no fighting till she popped an eye or broke an arm, no fire. Just silence, this wasn't the crazy woman he had known.
He frowned and crossed his arms.
"Okay... What's going through your head? Is it that boy's return? I thought you searched for him every day, yet you are alone when he's back. Not clinging to him, not smothering that brat with love like those old-fashioned mommies."
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips trembled.
"That's the problem," she snapped, finally cracking. "I wasn't there when it happened but after i heard how he was banished for burning down the orphanage… for killing everyone inside, I was shattered. I ran straight into the forest Where he was thrown out. I knew he didn't do it. I thought I could find him… bring him back."
She clenched her fists, shaking.
"But i think something happened that night to Cydal. Something he won't talk about. I knew he was a special boy so I believed it whenever he heard things I didn't, I thought the two of us were alone but it wasn't true, there was something big between us, he called it a ghost back then, the things it told him, things it made him do…he might have been forced into something again.
"But he won't trust me with it, he's avoiding me like I don't even exist."
Her voice dropped, thick with guilt.
"I don't know how to approach him either. That night… he came to me. He was at my door, begging for help, he was terrified. And I…" Her voice cracked.
"I turned him away, i didn't know how serious it was but he asked for help and i didn't save him."
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling as she tried to cover her face with her fist.
"He trusted me. And I, his own mother betrayed him."
Lanjo didn't move closer. No comforting touch, no softened gaze. Just his voice, calm and distant.
"Then maybe you should tell that brat what happened to you that night."
She looked up, startled.
"You lost your parents. And from the way you've been since… you lost yourself, too."
He paused, then added, "He wasn't the only one who was hurt."
A dry chuckle left his lips.
"Aren't you like that kid's mother or something? I say be that mother, spank his damn ass into listening to you."
After hearing Lanjo's words, she wiped her tears and stood taller, eyes sharpening with resolve.
"You're right," she said firmly. "I won't back down. I will make everything clear, he has to know."
"And by the way… what happened to your parents' murderer?" Lanjo's voice was low, but tense. "Didn't he promise he'd return? I want you to inform me the moment you even sense his presence."
His usually lazy eyes flared with intensity, and his shadow twitched unnaturally, as if reacting to his rising emotions.
Beauty hesitated, her lips parting but no words coming. Then, softly, while meeting his gaze, she said, "He's back… Barko returned from his prison."
"What?!" he shouted, a mix of panic and rage in his voice. "Then why did you wait until now to tell me this?! You know how dangerous he is. He's a beast capable of… horrific things."
"I know," she said quietly. "He killed my parents."
There was a pause. "...Sorry," he said, his voice softer now.
"It's okay," she murmured. Then she gave him a small smile. "But don't worry about me. I know you're always watching me from the shadows anyway. Admit it, it's just an excuse to admire my charm, isn't it?"
He flushed slightly, but his expression stayed serious. "Don't be ridiculous. Take this seriously! I was careless to trust you'd be safe on your own... but from now on, I'll be watching you more closely."
She blushed too, though for a different reason, she was quietly touched by how much he cared.
Back at the empty school, silence draped the halls like a veil, every student and teacher gone to the funeral. Only the occasional muffled moans
And suspicious sound broke the stillness.
Ahh
Hah
Unghh. No, not so rough.
Inside the restrooms, someone slammed against the wall with the force of wild bulls in love, their bodies were moving against each other up and down hard enough to rattle the structure.
"I'm about to go a little deeper!" a husky voice growled. "So keep it down, alright? I hate noisy women, they mess up my excitement!"
The moans from inside grew louder, shameless, echoing through the empty hall like a siren in heat.
Outside the restrooms, a few students stood like guard dogs on duty, giggling and smirking mischievously at the soft, breathy moans echoing from within.
One of them finally muttered, "Uh…umm, this feels seriously wrong. Shouldn't we be at the funeral with everyone else?"
"Oh hush up, loser! Boss isn't letting this moment slip, she finally bent," one of them snickered.
The shy one whispered under his breath, "You mean... he got her to bend?"
Suddenly, the slapping sounds and moans cut off. A heavy silence replaced the chaos. Then, the door creaked open.
Out stepped a blonde, she was gorgeous, disheveled, and dangerously calm. Her skirt slid back down her thighs as she fixed her tangled hair.
The guys stared, faces flushed. She paused, met each of their eyes with a slow, sultry gaze that made them all swallow hard, then strutted away like nothing happened.
The shy guy, Batis, couldn't look away from the stunning woman who had just walked by, his mouth was wide open like a cartoon character.
"Hellooo, Batis!!"
WHAM!
A fist slammed into his head from the side. He bit his tongue in shock.
A guy named dong walked out of the restroom and was behind him, his shirt unbuttoned, muscles were glistening, he was grinning like a wolf.
The guys outside bowed. "How was it, boss? Were you satisfied with that girl?"
He slurped like he'd just finished a gourmet meal. "Tasted damn good."
Batis stood frozen, eyes wide, too scared to breathe, like a chicken sensing the butcher.
Dong circled Batis, then slammed him against the wall, towering over him with a grin that didn't reach his eyes.
"What's this I'm hearing, Batis? I've been told you stopped showing loyalty to my gang? I didn't believe the rumours but that hurts, man. I'm disappointed."
To be Continued