"It's been a total of five days since the vacation event for the La Luna Sangre Hotel began, and only two days left until it marks its end for the students. And in just five days, several events occurred, both good or bad, memorial or forgettable.
However, there was this one event that some people consider as a memorial, and others want it forgotten as they take in the realization of the deeper meaning of that event. And that event was… the punishment of the Devil.
A day ago, Friday, Nomoro Ketatsuki was reportedly beaten up by numerous other students after he was assumed to "harass" a popular individual known as Trizha Frantzes, also known to be Malacca's famous Influencer. The said crime occurred when a Japanese event was happening, and it originated inside to outside the Mirror House.
Some of the witnesses stated that there must've been a misunderstanding given the situation, while some disapprove those theories due to the ongoing reputation of Nomoro Ketatsuki as a high school devil. Another thing about the situation is that hours later after the event involving Nomoro Ketatsuki, a few students witnessed yet another conflict that involved Trizha Frantzes. But this time, with her 'friends' who are known as Margaret Sensha and Wyne Kylie. For some reason, they were left injured after an unexpected argument with Trizha Frantzes.
Students who are investigating the conflict, even teachers, were unable to approach these two individuals for a review, and neither is Trizha Frantzes. And luckily, there wasn't enough evidence to prove Nomoro Ketatsuki as guilty. So until further evidence is received, the conflict will continue to linger while it is lost."
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Wyne reads an entire post regarding the paragraphs above using her phone. That's right, she is avoiding reviews for investigators of the conflict. She earlier stated that the situation will have to remain silent until she's made her mind… she laid flat on her bed inside the clinic, as she slowly sat up and her gaze lifted to stare at the sleeping Margaret in another bed.
Wyne: "..."
Her expression is unreadable, perhaps exhausted herself. She slowly caressed Margaret's hair, offering her comfort unnoticed. And then, she muttered; "I'm sorry, Margaret … I let you get hurt in the way… I just couldn't control myself. All that anger… Trizha, she… she's no longer the Trizha we know."
She recalled Trizha's face, how she looked down on them, how she spoke, how she expressed herself like never before. It was almost a different person, or rather, completely different. Tears started to form in her eyes, as she compared the first time she saw Trizha and then the last… if only she knew how to face her mistakes, it wouldn't backfire against her.
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Meanwhile, outside the clinic, Nomoro is watching Wyne and Margaret by the door window, his expression unreadable as well, not muttering a word. He still has a bandage around forehead, and now his right arm is covered with a bandage.
"You're the one looking out for those two? That's unusual."
Nomoro gets startled as he hears someone speaking, turning around as his eyes widened in surprise—T. Marcela is standing in front of him with a soft smile on her face.
Nomoro: "Teacher…?"
T. Marcela: "Yep, it's me alright. You carry the biggest injuries and yet you'd much rather check out the others besides yourself? You haven't been disciplined by me and you already know how to be a gentleman. Now that's my student."
T. Marcela says softly, patting Nomoro's back without a care in the world. Nomoro takes notice of her behaviour, turning to fully face her. This is the first time she's seen her like this, not to mention acting casual around someone like him.
Nomoro: "You're awfully soft today…"
T. Marcela: "What, you expect teachers like me to stay strict and harsh? I'd rather not. I'm actually very soft to people I like. And I like people who care for others."
She then snorts, putting both of her hands up, grinning smugly.
T. Marcela: "But don't get your hopes up—I don't mean it romantically."
Nomoro: "You don't need to tell me."
T. Marcela: "Harsh! But you have a point, it's only common sense that teachers and students aren't allowed to have a relationship with one another."
T. Marcela laughs more loudly, patting Nomoro's shoulder harder as a quick reminder to not act harsh around her either, whilst Nomoro just takes it nonchalantly, a sweat falling down on his face. Suddenly, T. Marcela's demeanor instantly changes back to her serious self as she speaks in a deeper tone.
T. Marcela: "Now the reason why I came here… Is both checking up on the three of you, and asking YOU a question…"
Nomoro's curiosity grows as he hears the question, as his hand instinctively scratches the bandage around his right arm as he speaks.
Nomoro: "What is it?"
T. Marcela: "Well… how do I say this…"
She then crosses her arms, looking up to Nomoro with intrigue in her face, analysing his expression.
T. Marcela: "About yesterday… those cold students really gave you a beating you don't deserve, huh? Tell me, why didn't you fight back, or worse, depend yourself against their blows?"
And so, Nomoro's eyes widened at her question. It was, after all, a good question. Why didn't he? She knows that Nomoro is strong himself, assuming the rumors of him beating up lots of students back in the days. It's something that gave him the reputation of the devil… He acknowledges it, putting a more serious expression. But before he answered, he suddenly turned around to stare at Wyne and Margaret from the window of the door, and then, he made his answer.
Nomoro: "Those students, despite their anger and cruel actions towards and against me…"
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"...What they did was right."
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T. Marcela's eyes widened in shock and surprise, her eyes shook with her jaw wide open. She stuttered before she could speak normally, and as she did, she glared down at Nomoro.
T. Marcela: "What… What the hell are you talking about? Are you even aware of what they did–"
Nomoro: "Yes."
T. Marcela: "Then does that mean that you are acknowledging the causes of what you did??"
Nomoro: "Yes."
T. Marcela: "So are you admitting the fact that you DID harass your fellow student, your Classmate, Trizha Frantzes?!"
Nomoro: "...No."
T. Marcela: "Then go tell me what I don't understand!! Also, I'll have you know that my real intention of being here is to get you to admit what really happened yesterday. So depending on your answer… I might just bring you to custody. And I will not make any hesitations…"
T. Marcela shouted, but in a more controlled tone so that Wyne and Margaret from inside the clinic wouldn't hear her. She clenches her fist, preparing herself for whatever Nomoro is about to say. Her glare was valid—if Nomoro admits the 'wrong' part of what he did, she'll lock him up without even a care as long as he and the world finds him truthfully guilty.
She waited for him to speak, almost out of patience and about to smack the back of his head in case he was just zoning out, until he finally made his speech.
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"They call me a demon. They see me as the devil. And they know me as one. If that's what they think of me, then what wrong did they do?"
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Nomoro then slowly turned around to face T. Marcela again. And to his surprise, she is surprised by what he just said. And before she made a response, he continued.
Nomoro: "It's all about the intentions. What they believed they viewed is what they do. They hurt me because that's what they see me, therefore, they believed that what they did was right. And if the intention was for the right thing, then they didn't do anything wrong. And because of that, I allowed them to hit me and take their blows as much as I deserved it, at least to what they viewed me as."
And so, with that speech, T. Marcela was left dumbfounded and speechless. This is her student? This is the person they call a devil? Him? Those were her thoughts, only keeping them in mind because she couldn't express it. Her body couldn't express it for her. Ever since Nomoro first came to her school, she's always received negative rumors about him… So hearing this "morals" of his, his point of view with the world, that became fresh for her.
T. Marcela, in her thoughts: "All that views and understanding… and you're telling you believe that what they did was right? You're kidding…"
Her face then softened, her grip on her own fists loosened, she doesn't know if she should trust what Nomoro just said to her, nor those reasons. What kind of old events did he experience just to obtain this kind of personality? And finally, she sighed softly, her gaze returning back to Nomoro without any heat on them this time.
T. Marcela: "I see. Fine. But here's my last question—with that in mind, what are you, the high school devil, going to do now?"
Nomoro stayed silent for a moment, taking her question into mind until he made his final answer.
Nomoro: "I'm going out there, and save. Even if people still see me as someone who's very destructive… destruction always falls into redemption out of realization. But that doesn't mean I fell into redemption—I've been the type to save since I was born."
And with that, Nomoro nodded, before softly walking past T. Marcela, leaving her dumbfounded and speechless as the words he previously mentioned lingered in her mind. And then, she muttered; "This guy… what food did he eat to learn so much poetry?" she says, letting out a few chuckles out of her mouth until she covers it with her out, her dumbfounded feeling visible to the naked eye. To her surprise, she realized that she was starting to doubt the rumors about Nomoro.
T. Marcela turned her head slightly to take a short glance off Nomoro from the distance, but she saw no one in the hallway. He's already gone. But then, a thought occurred in her mind, and so she asked herself.
"Wait… he didn't have a broken arm yesterday when we were treating his wounds…"
T. Marcela then turns back on the window of the door, peeking inside the clinic, remembering how, yesterday, the nurses reportedly told her that Margaret's arm… was mysteriously already healed and no longer dislocated. She became suspicious, but because of that day where a black hole appeared, she was tired of the supernatural making unexpected occurrences. As a normal Human, she seeks ignorance for selfish peace.
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"So this is… this is 'the' Trizha Frantzes."
The muttered words of the man who interrupted. The child whose identity was obvious, yet motives unclear. The he who liberated from the usual benevolence, is analysing Trizha from the distance. His expression, though masked by no expression, was filled with intrigue deep inside. After all, he is witnessing 'the' Trizha Frantzes, who is talking to the CCTV Operator just now…
Zackier, in his thoughts: "...Despite us "comforting" each other last night, she's still mentally vulnerable… What a pathetic outlook. That I can't blame, after everything she did to get to this extent."
He then smirked, his interest growing rapidly the more he tried to figure out Trizha.
Zackier, in his thoughts: "Although… This result also makes it an interesting outlook—vulnerability always shows the 'real' reality of each individual; they become exposed. And Trizha here… has exposed herself out of despair."
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CCTV Operator: "I-i didn't mean any offence, ma'am. Like I said!"
Trizha: "Offence…"
The Operator nervously said, waving his hands around while shaking his head and sweating, trying to male amends for upsetting Trizha. And before Trizha could speak, the Operator spoke immediately because he wouldn't want to make this worse than it already is.
CCTV Operator: "Forgive me…! I just find it unusual, I mean… I know who you are, and you always have a cheerful demeanor and it just concerns me about your state right now!"
Hearing that, Trizha realizes what she's doing and instantly changes her demeanor back into her cheerful self; she grinned widely, softened her expression, trying to lighten the mood.
Trizha: "Ah-haha, sorry, sorry! I was just… tired, yes… tired of planning out for new videos, you know. Hahaha…
Awkwardly, she rubbed the back of her head. It was obvious, even the Operator knows she's just very upset and tries to lighten the mood. So out of regret for making her feel this way, he decided to play along by acting as if he was relieved that she was "fine" and then asking her when she will post something new about her in her profile. Meanwhile, Zackier continued to watch. Just like the Operator, he knew that she was just acting. The only difference is the denial of playing along…
Zackier, in his thoughts: "And now she's masking it all again. This whole time, I thought her cheerful self was the 'her' I'm supposed to cooperate with. Seems like old is still gold, as they say."
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"But gold doesn't last forever either. They lose value whenever they get lost themselves. So I'll make sure… to dig a deeper hole for its loss."
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With that in mind, Zackier just crosses his arms and lets out a breath for a second before noticing Trizha leaving the mini CCTV operation house, walking over to Zackier with a tired look on her face as he looks down on her with those eyes.
Trizha: "...Zack…"
Zackier: "Hm? Yeah?"
Trizha: "Let's go back. I feel… a bit exhausted."
Zackier: "Are you? Or was it that deep inside, you were."
Trizha scratches her head in frustration, groaning.
Trizha: "Zack, I don't have time for riddles…!"
Zackier: "Right, right. Sorry, haha."
Trizha then walks past Zackier, frustrated. She muttered a few words out of her mouth, perhaps speaking of curses in what Zackier could guess. He just smirks, following after her from behind. He can tell. This is another part of her "unusual" self.
And so, they re-enter the hotel, starting with the usual entertainment zone. Even after a Japanese themed amusement place from yesterday, there are still lots of students who are in thirst for more amusement. Though some are still taking a break, they couldn't wait for Monday Midnight, which is Prom. They are talking about it, lots of them do. They always have plans for something, like deciding to sleep all day just to skip it all for Monday Midnight, always wanting something to end for the better…
…Just like how Trizha, in her thoughts, wants to end this conflict as soon as possible. The only difference is that the conflict itself can no longer end. After all…
"...let's go that way."
Trizha startles slightly as she hears Zackier say those words. She turned around to look at him, his expression tells her that he is being thoughtful for some reason. She then turned to the path by the corner that Zackier was pointing at, before turning back to him.
Trizha: "...what?"
Zackier: "Let's go that way first. I believe I saw something… rather interesting."
Trizha: "Oh, then why can't you just go there and let go back on my own–"
Suddenly, Zackier held her hand before she could even react first or even finish her own sentence. He then leaned in and stared at her eyes with his, grinning.
Zackier: "So you're saying that you want to be left vulnerable? That's not good, you're going to make me feel worried…
Trizha: "Zack… i-i'll fine on my own–"
Zackier: "And moreover, make me feel guilty for letting my depressed princess go off on her own."
He spoke to her in a low, convincing tone. He didn't blink while he spoke of those words, which unsettled Trizha into thinking he was serious. She wants to stay by his side, but she also wants some privacy. But also, she couldn't help but admit that he was right. It is a shame if a man left her woman all alone.
Trizha: "...fine. But just this once, and then we'll go back."
Zackier grinned mischievously as he leaned away, satisfied with her decision.
Zackier: "Good girl. Now… shall we?"
Trizha nodded and held his hand tightly, but not too grippy as they both walked into the corner of the path. In there, there wasn't really anything interesting to see, except the students that were either entering the area or leaving it. She felt a little uncomfortable, like something was off, noticing Zackier's movements as forceful, as if he had an intention other than simply going to see something interesting.
She tries to figure it out, but using her overused mind after yesterday, was a struggle. She couldn't think straight and needed a break, and she had her chance and lost it because she was forced to come along. What does she have to do to escape this situation? She asks, then suddenly, she bumped into someone while walking. She doesn't know, but no one was holding her hand anymore.
???: "Hey…!"
Trizha: "S-sorry–"
She tried to apologize for bumping into that someone, until she looked into their face and her exhausted look in her face was replaced in an instant with… shock of despair… because the person in front of her reminded her of someone. And that is… they had short, curly brown hair. Surely, it was..
Trizha: "Wyne?"
The person looked back to Trizha, slowly, their face revealed itself. It wasn't Wyne, just another fellow student with a similar hairstyle. She knew it was a stranger the moment they showed their faces, and It should've calmed her the moment it did. But it didn't. Instead, it got worse. Her current state got worse… it added even more grief and now anxiety into her most vulnerable self. She backed away slowly, speechless. The student with the curly hair was confused, but they soon recognized her as Malacca's famous Influencer.
Fellow student: "Wait… are you…? Oh my god! It's Izha!"
They shouted, mentioning Trizha's Internet name. And that shout caused many to recognize, many to feel honored, many to feel like they have just witnessed a Goddess… and so, they all approached Trizha, bright smiles forming in their faces, wanting to speak to her.
But the question is, does Trizha want to speak with them? The answer is… No. She is in shock. Disbelief. And then despair, and now anxiety. All at extreme levels. She recognizes them; the same feelings she has whenever she encounters… Nomoro Ketatsuki.
Why is it that she felt the same way to Wyne…? She asks in her mind. She doesn't know. And so, she looked away, trying to lift away those feelings that shouldn't have been shared to someone else… but turning away didn't save her either; she "saw" Margaret in the crowd of students. Is that really her? Another answer, No. It's also another student with the same hairstyle. And to Margaret, she felt the same feelings she had with Nomoro and Wyne… Those two former friends of hers, how did they get involved with these feelings of hers? How?
She shook her head, trying to deny the fact that she felt anxiety towards not only Nomoro, but to her two friends. She looked away once again, trying to turn her gaze away. But did that save her this time? No. It didn't. It didn't do the trick either. Why? Because… She sees Nomoro, Wyne, and Margaret, standing around her. Surrounding her. The students, they no longer look like "theirs", instead, they all looked like the "them", the people she despaired. All she sees is them. And them only.
She fell to her knees and held her head with both hands, shaking constantly. She couldn't handle it. In reality, they are just students that are praising her, thinking that is also going to be part of her "new" video, while to Trizha… all she sees… is them. Those three. Those people she caused conflict.
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She wanted this to end, immediately. But she couldn't. After all… After all, she messed up.
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She lifted her head after a few seconds and saw a way out; between the legs of the many. She immediately crawled into and between the student's legs, and they all laughed and felt amused or entertained, unaware of what was really happening. Soon enough, she managed to escape the surrounding crowd and left the area, rushed into the corridors, and entered her hotel room, slamming the door shut, locking it, and leaning her back against it in an instant. She was terrified, traumatized, and tired. Sooo tired. So tired that she couldn't think straight, the faces of "them" lingered in her mind.
She slowly walked into the bathroom and took off her clothes while her entire body was shaking. She then turned on the shower and started showering herself, expecting the water to pull away those familiar faces and appearances of those she brought the conflict with. And obviously, that didn't work.
Her head felt itchy, and she scratched her head with both hands, water fell from the holes of a hose, tears fell from the eyes of her own. She couldn't get it off, she could still feel their eyes on her. Them. Their index fingers pointed down on her, and so she gripped her hands on her head tightly, as if she was trying to break it. She shakes her head this time, they weren't gone. She tried another method, and she realized that obviously, it won't work either.
And now… she breathes in and out, trying to calm herself down. The beat of her heart slowed, and the sound of their voices lowered, then the shaking stopped, both in and out. She panted for a moment, until she took one big breath while the water continued to flow and collided onto her face when she faced the ceiling of the bathroom, her eyes completely covered by her blonde hair that used to shine whenever there was light… and then…
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She smiled. A bright smile. A ridiculously unsettling smile.
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She snickered, and then she laughed, completely lost in the moment, a clear sign of her calmness, yet it was unsettling for situations such as this. She covered her already hair-covered eyes with her right hand as she laughed through the shining bodies of both tears and water.
"That's right, that's right… smile! Smile through the audience! Entertain them with that bright smile of yours!"
"The conflict is lost, and surely, it won't come back for me to deal with, to face it…!"
"It is just as what 'he' told me—they will not stop for me no matter how much I chase them. There's no point in trying other than moving on… yes… it's time I move on. The conflict is already lost… I don't have to go and apologize. No more interruptions… it's time for "me"."
"...no matter how many gallons fill my eyes, no matter how long they all linger into mine, seeking for my refuge… I will ignore. I will walk past them and enter the stage and smile through the audience…! After all…"
Parting her lips, brightening the already bright smile, placing both thumbs inside her mouth and pushing its sides, a more widened smile with a cheerful facade while tears flow like a river from her eyes…
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"...That's what it means to be an Influencer, right?"