The dark sky that day made everything feel even bleaker; heavy rain fell without stopping as they carried out Kak Andaru's funeral. Sticky red mud clung to the shoes of the mourners who crowded the grave's edge. I stood still, drenched through, feeling a cold that cut down to my bones.
The wooden coffin, which somehow felt so light, was lowered slowly into the pit. I couldn't move; my gaze was fixed on that wooden box, where my brother lay in a state he shouldn't have been in. My hand trembled as I scooped a handful of red soil from the pile beside the grave.
I clenched the earth tightly, then deliberately dragged my palm across a shard of sharp stone lying there, tearing the skin. Fresh blood trickled from my palm and mixed with the soil I held. I mixed my blood with that dirt — I wanted a piece of me buried with his body.
My mind flashed back to childhood, to when Andaru and I used to play by the rice fields near our house. We once made a promise there, tying our little pinky fingers after pricking them slightly with a needle, creating what we called a blood oath. "We'll protect each other, always, until one of us dies," Andaru had said then, his voice so honest and certain.
Now that promise felt abandoned, utterly broken. I failed to keep it. Aisyah, Andaru's fiancée, knelt beside the grave; her clothes were dirty and soaked with mud. Her face was swollen and red; she cried soundlessly, tears pouring down in a steady stream.
She looked so devastated—perhaps worse than I was—and seeing her made the pain in my chest grow even larger. I should have been strong, but it felt like everything inside me had shattered into pieces.
Suddenly Aisyah lifted her face; her red, swollen eyes stared at me, full of a furious, tangled grief. "Are you calm now, Gamali, after all this?!" she yelled, her voice shrill with mounting frustration. "You're his brother—why couldn't you protect him at all?!"
Her words hit me straight in the chest, merciless. I was stunned; guilt surged through me.
"Don't you go blaming me however you want, Aisyah! I feel the same destruction as you!" I shot back, unable to hold back my own raging voice.
"But he's the one who died! And you're standing here, still alive and breathing!" Aisyah's voice sounded contemptuous, as if she'd just struck me with the most painful words. I knew she spoke from a wounded heart, but her words only fueled my anger.
Guilt and a need for revenge collided inside me. I had to retaliate, but I couldn't deny that I felt useless as a brother. "Do you think it's easy for me to face all this? Do you think I haven't wished to die in his place, Aisyah?" I asked hoarsely, my eyes already wet.
"I don't care what you feel, Gamali! All I know is he's gone! He was supposed to marry me, and now he's just a name on a tombstone!" Aisyah slammed her weak hand down on the burial soil, showing how immense her rage was. The pain was tangible, destroying both of us at once.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to hold back the swirling pain and anger. I had to focus. The woman I'd seen last night, the one with the inverted spiral pendant—my investigation had to start there. "This isn't my fault, and it isn't yours. This is the work of those savages who stole my brother's organs, those rotten bastards!" I said through clenched teeth.
Aisyah shook her head blankly; her tears mixed with the heavy rain. "Your nonsense! You're just looking for an excuse to hide your weakness! What kind of mafia can break into our home and take Andaru without a trace? This is suspicious!" she accused me, as if I were part of some wicked plan.
Her words felt humiliating; I felt utterly alone. "Stop accusing me of things I didn't do! I'm telling you this was done by people who are trained! They planned this — didn't you see the surgical cuts on his chest?" I tried to explain loudly, but she refused to listen.
Then, I felt a hand on my back and heard a man's heavy voice. "Gamali, Aisyah has a point. You need to think rationally. There's nothing you can do alone — this is a big syndicate," said Om Jaya, our uncle, his voice full of helplessness. He was the only relative we had left.
"Nothing I can do, uncle? You want me to stand by and watch Andaru die like this, his organs taken like merchandise?" I retorted, turning to him with a questioning look. I couldn't accept his surrender; it sounded like we had no power to fight.
"Stop this madness, Gamali! You have no money, no important contacts, and you're naive about the criminal world. You'll just end up dead for nothing," Om Jaya said, his tone frightening, as if he knew things I didn't. His face looked pale and nervous.
His words hurt, piling more pressure on me, making me feel underestimated by everyone here. But Om Jaya's glance made me suspicious—he seemed to be hiding something. I watched him wipe sweat from his brow, even though the rain was pouring down.
As Om Jaya turned to walk away, I caught a glimpse beneath his wet jacket collar: a small tattoo, faint but visible for a few seconds. I froze. The mark looked very familiar — it was the same inverted spiral symbol I had seen on Andaru and on the mysterious woman's pendant.
The world spun. My head felt dizzy. Om Jaya? Impossible. He was my uncle. Yet that symbol could not be a coincidence. All my pain and rage flipped into a terrifying confusion.
I wanted to grab him—to tear his jacket open and demand an explanation—but my hand felt weak. I had to restrain myself. If Om Jaya was involved, the danger was close. I needed to be very careful; I couldn't attack him without solid proof.
I sprinkled the red soil mixed with my blood onto Andaru's coffin. It felt like signing a new vow. The earth smelled of blood and mud, a scent I would remember for the rest of my life. I watched Om Jaya walk away, and Aisyah still crying by the grave.
Under the relentless downpour, I whispered softly above my brother's resting place; my voice was only for me to hear.
"I saw the mark, Brother. I know this is not just an ordinary murder — this is tied to something far more evil."
I clenched my right fist; the wound in my palm throbbed, reminding me of the oath I had just made. My eyes burned as I stared toward the dark gate of the cemetery.
"I will find whoever desecrated your body, Kak Andaru. One by one, I will find them all. I swear. They will all fall. And when the time comes, I will make sure they die in ways far worse than what you felt."
I turned and walked quickly away from the wet cemetery; the vow of vengeance had taken root with every step. Now I had to start the investigation, and I knew where to begin: the people who bore
the inverted spiral. Om Jaya, you are my first target.