Auther POV
Sunday Morning
Ruz had barely stepped through the front door when something flew past her head.
She did not flinch. Did not duck. Did not even blink. She simply turned her head slowly and looked at Adrian.
"…Did you just throw a pillow at me?" she asked.
Adrian leaned casually against the couch, one leg crossed over the other. He looked like a king who had just thrown a tomato at a peasant and was waiting to see what happened next.
"It was a test," he said.
"A test," she repeated flatly.
"For what?"
"Your reaction time. You passed, by the way. Barely. But you passed."
Ruz rolled her shoulders once, loosening muscles that did not need loosening.
"…You want to test your survival time instead?" she asked. "I can arrange that. I have a stopwatch for you."
From the dining area, Liam watched the exchange with the wide eyed horror of a man who had come to visit friends and accidentally walked into a war zone. He had shown up an hour ago because he was bored at home, because his mother had kicked him out for eating all the snacks, because he had nowhere else to go and no one else to bother.
Tita had been talking to him about school, about food, about nothing important and then the chaos had started, and he had been too invested to leave.
"I am witnessing violence," he whispered dramatically, clutching his stuffed toy to his chest like a shield.
"Stay out of it," both siblings said at the same time.
Liam sat down immediately.
"I choose life."
Ruz picked up the same pillow Adrian had thrown at her. She weighed it in her hands like a weapon,
Adrian did not move.
Bad decision. Terrible decision. The kind of decision that future generations would study in history classes under the heading "How to Get Hit in the Face."
She threw it
Hard.
The pillow flew through the air like a missile seeking its target. It hit Adrian directly in the face with a satisfying thwack that made Tita wince from the kitchen.
A pause.
Silence.
The house held its breath.
Then
"…You are dead," Adrian said.
Ruz smiled. It was the smile of someone who had been waiting for this exact reaction and was already planning her next move.
"Catch me first," she said.
And just like that
War started.
She ran. Adrian chased. Through the hallway, past the family photos, around the couch, Tito stepped aside immediately when they approached, like this was a normal daily event, like sibling warfare was just part of his morning routine.
"Careful with the vase!" Tita shouted from the kitchen.
"NO PROMISES," Adrian replied.
Ruz grabbed a random cushion from the couch and threw it behind her without looking. She did not need to aim. The cushion found its target anyway Liam's face.
He gasped, sputtering feathers and indignation.
"What was my fault" he started.
"You stand in wrong place," Ruz said while running, her voice calm and conversational despite the chaos.
Liam stood up. Something changed in his expression. A decision was made. A line was crossed.
"…I have been dragged into this against my will," he said. "Fine. Now I fight."
He grabbed another pillow.
Three seconds later, the house turned into a battlefield.
Cushions flew through the air,footsteps thundered across the floor. Tito watched from his chair like it was a live show, his phone out, his snacks in his lap, his commentary loud and unhelpful.
"This is better than television," he said proudly. "I have not seen action like this since the great Remote Control War of 2019."
Ruz dodged Adrian's lunge and ran toward the stairs
But he caught her wrist.
Not harsh. Just enough. Just a reminder that he knew her, that he had been chasing her for years.
She twisted. Slipped out. Shoved him lightly.
He stumbled back, his foot catching on the edge of the rug.
"You are getting slower," she said.
"You are getting annoying," he replied.
"Improvement," she said.
He lunged again
She ducked
And Liam screamed because someone no one was sure who had knocked over a chair.
"I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS," Liam shouted, his voice cracking. "I CAME HERE FOR PEACE. I CAME HERE FOR FRIENDSHIP. I CAME HERE FOR FREE FOOD."
Kuya walked in.
He stopped in the doorway. Looked at the scene before him cushions everywhere, one chair on its side, Tito eating snacks, Liam holding a pillow like a soldier holding a rifle, Ruz and Adrian circling each other like wild animals.
Then he said calmly
"…Five minutes."
Everyone froze.
Ruz blinked. "…What?"
"You have five minutes," Kuya repeated, his voice unchanged. "After that, if anything is broken, all of you fix it. With your hands. With your money. With your dignity."
A pause.
Then Ruz grinned. Adrian smirked. Liam panicked.
"WHY WOULD YOU GIVE THEM PERMISSION" Liam started.
"Because no one can stop them," Kuya said, walking away. "So I am simply managing expectations."
And chaos resumed.
Monterrazas International School looked calm the next morning.
Clean. Controlled. Like nothing bad had ever happened within its walls, like the glitter incident and the adhesive gel and the fake announcements were all distant memories that belonged to a different timeline.
That was a lie.
Because inside
Chaos had already arrived.
Ruz walked through the gates like usual. Calm. Unbothered. Her bag slung over one shoulder, her expression neutral.
Josh appeared beside her like he had been waiting for this exact moment, like he had been standing behind a tree and had timed his approach perfectly.
"You look like you caused problems yesterday," he said.
"I improved my combat skills," she replied.
"With whom?"
"With my problem."
He nodded seriously, as if this made perfect sense. "Adrian."
"Yes."
From behind them, Liam appeared. His eyes narrowed. His posture shifted.
"…Why are you two walking together?" he asked.
Ruz did not even look at him. "Because we have legs. They walk. Together or separately, depending on the destination."
"That is not what I meant," Liam said.
Josh smiled. It was a small smile, barely there, but it carried weight.
"We bonded," he said.
Liam stopped walking. "…Over what?"
Ruz: "Chaos."
Josh: "Mutual understanding."
Liam looked personally attacked. His mouth opened and closed several times.
"I was there yesterday," he said weakly.
"You were a victim," Ruz corrected.
"I was emotionally damaged," Liam said.
Josh laughed. It was a real laugh short, sharp, completely genuine.
"Skill issue," he said.
Liam grabbed his head with both hands. "I am losing my position. I am losing my status."
"You never had one," Ruz said.
"That hurt," Liam said.
"It was accurate," she said.
Josh and Ruz exchanged a look. A brief glance, nothing more. Then both nodded slightly, a synchronization that spoke of shared chaos and mutual chaos.
Liam gasped.
"…You have a system now," he said. "You have been planning this. You have been plotting against me."
"Yes," Josh said calmly.
"We are replacing you," Ruz added.
"I refuse," Liam said. "I reject this reality.
The school did not stay calm for long.
It never did.
Because in the girls' restroom on the second floor.
Selene stood in front of the mirror, touching up her makeup. Her reflection stared back at her perfect, composed, untouchable.
"You have noticed them, right?" she said.
Clarisse leaned against the sink, lighting her hair with her fingers, watching the strands catch the light. "Hard not to. They make sure everyone notices them."
Bianca leaned against the wall near the door, her arms crossed, her expression lazy and dismissive. "They act like they belong," she said. "Like they have always been here. Like they are not just new girls who showed up yesterday."
Danica rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. "They do not belong," she said. "They never will."
"Nika," Selene said. "Mira. Aira."
A pause.
"And especially Ruz."
Bianca laughed softly. "She is so clingy with Rifat and Josh. Does she not see how desperate she looks?"
Danica added, "She probably cheated in the competition. That is the only explanation. No one wins like that honestly."
Clarisse glanced at her reflection, adjusting her hair. "And that Aira she is also a problem. The way she looks at Marco? Please. She should look elsewhere. He would never notice someone like her."
Selene pursed her lips, applying another layer of lip gloss. "I do not know how she thinks about him. Just look at her. She is so… ordinary. And not in a cute way."
Clarisse nodded. "And Mira. I cannot tolerate her. Does she really think Adrian will notice her? Oh my god. Delusional."
Danica snorted. "And obviously that tomboy Nika. She acts like she is the smartest, the strongest. Please. She is just loud."
Selene smiled at her reflection, satisfied with her appearance.
"They are all bitches," she said lightly, like she was commenting on the weather. "Whores. Always roaming around after boys. Desperate. Pathetic."
Unbeknownst to them
Someone else was inside.
Aira had been in one of the stalls, fixing her uniform, not listening at first. But the voices had carried. The words had carried.
She had heard everything.
Now she stood still, her back against the stall door, her expression changing slowly. From confusion to understanding. From understanding to hurt. From hurt to something harder.
Then she stepped out.
"Say it again," she said.
Silence.
The Velvet Girls turned. Surprised they had not heard her come in. Then amused, because amused was safer than threatened.
Selene smiled slightly. "…Oh."
Clarisse tilted her head, her expression mocking. "You heard?"
Aira did not move. Her feet were planted. Her hands were at her sides. Her voice was steady.
"Say it again," she repeated.
Bianca laughed softly. "Why? So you can cry properly this time? So you can run to your friends and tell them how mean we were?"
That was enough.
Aira stepped forward. Fast. Too fast. Her hand shot out and grabbed Bianca's collar, twisting the fabric in her fist.
"What did you say?" she asked.
The room shifted instantly. The air changed. The tension that had been simmering for days finally boiled over.
Danica pushed Aira's shoulder. Hard.
"Do not touch her," Danica snapped.
Aira pushed back. Harder.
"Then do not talk too much," Aira said.
The tension snapped.
The door opened.
Nika walked in first.
She paused in the doorway, taking in the scene Aira and Bianca inches apart, Clarisse with her arms raised, Danica with her fists clenched. Her expression shifted from curious to alert to something more dangerous.
"…Oh," she said. "How dare you touch her?"
She shoved Danica. Not lightly. Not accidentally.
Mira followed, calm as always, but her eyes were already sharp, her posture already shifting, her hands already loose at her sides.
Ruz came last.
Silent. Observing. Taking in everything the positions, the expressions, the subtle weight shifts that told her who was about to move.
Selene's smile widened.
"Well," she said. "Perfect timing. Now we can finish this properly."
Ruz stepped forward slowly. Each step was deliberate. Each step was a choice.
"…You talk too much," she said.
Clarisse crossed her arms. "And you think you are better than us?"
Ruz tilted her head slightly.
"No," she said.
A pause.
"I just do not pretend."
Aira's voice cut through the tension, sharp and raw.
"They used profanity against us," she said. "They called us bitches and whores. And she called you a tomboy, Nika. She said you act like you are the smartest and the strongest when you are just loud."
That
Triggered everything.
Everyone moved at once.
Nika shoved first. "How dare you call me a tomboy? How dare you say I am just loud?"
Bianca pushed back, her hands flat against Nika's shoulders.
Mira grabbed someone's wrist Clarisse's, maybe, or Danica's, it happened too fast to track.
Clarisse snapped, "Do not touch me"
Too late.
Hair pulled. Hands grabbed. Voices raised.
"Let go"
"You started it"
"Say that again"
"MAKE ME"
The restroom turned into chaos.
Real chaos. Not the clean, controlled chaos of competition or strategy. This was messy. Loud. Savage. The kind of fight that left scratches and bruises and regrets.
Ruz jumped in immediately. She did not hesitate. She pulled one of them away from Aira Danica, maybe, or Bianca, it did not matter who.
Selene stepped forward, blocking her path.
"You think you can beat us easily?" Selene asked.
Ruz looked at her.
"…No," she said.
A pause.
"I proved this in the competition already."
They clashed.
Not elegant. Not perfect. Just messy. Precise. Intentional. Ruz moved like water, flowing around Selene's attacks, redirecting her momentum, using her own weight against her.
It was not a fair fight.
It was not meant to be.
At the same time, in the hallway
Another fight started.
Adrian stood near the lockers, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Zayn stood in front of him, blocking his path. The tension between them was different from the girls' fight. Quieter. But heavier.
"You noticed it too," Zayn said.
Adrian did not deny it. "…You are watching her too closely."
Zayn smirked slightly. "You cannot hold her back like this forever. She is not yours to control."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
A pause.
Then
A push. Not accidental. Not soft. Just enough to make a point.
That was it.
They moved.
Fast. Controlled. Not gentle. Neither of them was trying to hurt the other not yet but neither was backing down.
Enzo joined. Then Diego. Then Rifat stepped in, not because he wanted to fight, but because the people around him were fighting and standing still felt wrong.
Josh was already there. Eren followed.
Then Liam
"WHY IS EVERYONE FIGHTING"
Too late.
Someone's elbow caught his shoulder. Someone else shoved him forward. He stumbled, grabbed the nearest person for balance, and suddenly he was in the middle of it.
Now it was not tension.
It was war.
Boys versus boys. Shouting. Shoving. Punches barely controlled.
"Back off"
"Make me"
"You first"
Students gathered around the edges of the hallway, phones out, recording, watching, enjoying. This was better than any event the festival had produced. This was raw and real and completely insane.
Until
Teachers arrived.
"STOP!"
"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?"
Voices cut through the chaos like blades. Teachers rushed in, pulling students apart, grabbing arms, confiscating phones. Someone was shouting about detentions. Someone else was shouting about expulsions.
Teachers found the girls in the restroom screaming at each other, scratching, pulling hair, throwing things.
Everyone was dragged
One by one
To the guidance office.
Silence fell over the room.
Heavy breathing. Messy uniforms. Sharp eyes still locked across the space, still measuring, still calculating.
Ruz stood calmly in the corner, like nothing had happened. Her hair was slightly messy, but somehow she still looked composed. It was annoying.
Liam looked like he had survived a natural disaster.
"I hate this school," he whispered. "I hate this school so much. I am transferring. I am moving to a different country. I am becoming a monk."
Josh leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed.
"…Worth it," he said.
Adrian glanced at Ruz. Zayn did too.
Same thought. Same reason.
"Are you also against Section Z?" Zayn asked quietly.
"No," Ruz said.
"Then why were you fighting?" Adrian asked.
"We were all against the Velvet Girls," Adrian said. "That was the agreement. That was the understanding. That was the entire point."
Adrian and Zayn glanced at each other, then at all the girls, then tried very hard to hold back their laughter.
Because all the girls looked terrible.
Messed hair. Scratches on faces and necks. Torn sleeves. Missing earrings. They looked like they had fought wild cats and lost.
Ruz looked at Selene.
"…Next time," she said quietly, "choose your words better."
Selene smiled. She was still smiling, still pretending she was not affected.
"…Or what?" she asked.
Ruz did not answer immediately.
Then
"…Or I will not stop."
And this time, it did not sound like a threat.
It sounded like a promise.
The guidance office had never felt this crowded.
Students lined one side of the room uniforms wrinkled, hair wild, expressions ranging from defiant to deeply regretful. Some were still catching their breath. Some were trying to hide scratches with their hands. Some had given up on pretending and were simply staring at the floor.
On the other side stood the teachers. Arms crossed. Expressions stern. The kind of disappointed that was somehow worse than anger.
And in the doorway
Parents.
Guardians.
Authority.
The real danger.
Liam leaned slightly toward Josh and whispered, "I think I preferred the fight. The fight was simpler. The fight did not involve my mother's disappointed face."
Josh nodded once. "Same."
Ruz stand quietly in the corner, her arms folded, her gaze steady. Not nervous. Not apologetic. Just waiting. She had been in rooms like this before. She knew how to wait.
Across from her, the Velvet Girls stood together. Perfect posture. Controlled expressions. But their silence did not feel confident anymore.
It felt calculated. Like they were already planning their next move.
The door opened again. More adults entered.
Among them
Kuya.
Mark Azmain Cruz walked in like he had come from an important meeting which he had. His shirt was pressed. His tie was straight. His expression was calm.
Too calm.
Adrian and Ruz straightened immediately. Their casual postures disappeared. Their relaxed expressions vanished.
Because chaos was one thing.
But Kuya?
Kuya was consequence.
The head teacher stepped forward, her voice firm and sharp enough to cut glass.
"This is completely unacceptable behavior," she said. "Fighting on school grounds. Creating chaos in two separate locations simultaneously. Involving multiple sections. In front of witnesses. In front of cameras."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "This is not a festival. This is not a competition. This is a disciplinary matter."
Another teacher added, "We have witness reports from both the restroom and the hallway. Statements are being collected. Evidence is being reviewed."
Murmurs followed. Students shifting. Tension rising again.
Then another voice calm, controlled, belonging to one of the senior staff.
"However," he said, "after reviewing the initial statements carefully, it is clear that the incident did not start equally."
Eyes shifted.
Toward the Velvet Girls.
Subtle at first. Then less subtle. Then openly.
"The initial provocation," he continued, "came from repeated verbal harassment. This is documented. This is corroborated by multiple witnesses who were not involved in the altercation."
Silence.
This time, it was heavier.
Selene did not react immediately. Her expression remained composed. But her jaw tightened slightly. The only sign that she had heard, that she understood what this meant.
The teacher turned to the other group.
"Your reaction, however, was still unacceptable. There were other ways to handle this.
Aira looked away. Nika crossed her arms tighter. Mira remained still.
Ruz did not move at all.
Because she already knew
This was not about right or wrong anymore.
This was about control.
The principal stepped forward, her presence commanding immediate attention.
"You will all be suspended," she said.
A collective exhale. Not relief. Not fear. Just acceptance.
Then she added, "However, based on parental requests and our internal review, there will be structural changes to address the underlying issues."
That caught everyone's attention.
"I am reorganizing the sections," the principal continued. "Mixing the students. Breaking the existing group dynamics that have led to this situation."
Whispers spread through the room.
"What does that mean?"
"She is splitting us up?"
"So we are not staying in the same sections?"
The principal raised her hand for silence.
"Section C and Section A will no longer exist in their current forms," she said. "Students will be reassigned based on academic needs, behavioral requirements, and—" a pause, "—the need for fresh starts."
Liam whispered to Josh, "We are getting upgraded?"
Josh leaned back. "Or punished in a more interesting way."
"And," the principal added, "the Velvet Girls as a group are prohibited from any future extracurricular activities for the remainder of the school year. Together or separately. If any of you are seen organizing as a group, the consequences will escalate."
Selene's eyes flickered. Just slightly. The first crack in her composure.
Then came the real punishment.
Parents stepped forward. One by one. Voices filled the room in a symphony of disappointment and frustration.
"You came here to study, not to fight!"
"What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?"
"Do you know how embarrassing this is? Do you know how many phone calls I have received today?"
Some students looked down at their shoes. Some nodded quickly, eager to escape. Some silently promised they would never fight again.
Others just tried not to laugh.
Because watching someone else get scolded when you had already gotten your own scolding?
Still entertaining. Still satisfying. Still better than television.
Then
Azmain moved.
Slow. Calm. Dangerous.
He did not speak immediately. He did not rush. He simply walked toward
Ruz.
And Adrian.
Both of them froze. Because they knew. They had seen that walk before. They had experienced that walk before. That was the walk that preceded consequences.
Too late.
He reached out
And grabbed both of their ears at the same time.
Two hands. Two victims. Perfect control.
Teachers stared. Parents stared. Students stared. Somewhere in the back of the room, someone dropped a pen and no one noticed because everyone was too busy watching.
"…How. Dare. You," Kuya said.
Ruz blinked. Adrian stiffened.
"Kuya" they both started at the same time.
"Not. A word."
He tightened his grip slightly. Not enough to cause real pain. Just enough to make his point.
"Fighting in school?" he continued, his voice low but deadly calm. "Creating a scene? Embarrassing me in front of teachers, parents, and" he glanced around the room, "an entire audience of people I have to work with professionally?"
Liam whispered to Josh, "…We should leave. Right now. While we still can."
Josh shook his head. "…We cannot. The door is blocked. We are trapped here with our choices."
Kuya started walking
Dragging both of them.
Yes. Dragging. By their ears. Across the guidance office. Past shocked teachers. Past amused parents. Past students who were trying very hard not to laugh and failing.
Ruz tried to speak. "Kuya, I...."
"Once we get home," Kuya cut her off smoothly, "I will shave your head permanently."
Silence.
Total silence.
Even Liam gasped. "…That is extreme. That is the kind of punishment they give to war criminals."
Adrian muttered, "You are overreacting. No one is seriously injured."
Kuya stopped walking.
Turned his head slowly.
"…Am I?" he asked.
A pause.
Adrian: "…No."
"Good answer."
He continued dragging them toward the exit.
Ruz tried again. "Kuya, they started it."
"And you finished it," he replied instantly. No hesitation. No doubt. "You finished it beautifully, spectacularly, in front of witnesses. That is the problem."
No argument. No escape.
Outside the guidance office, it got worse.
Because now the whole school could see.
Students lined the corridors, pretending to go to class, pretending they were not watching. But they were watching. Everyone was watching.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Is that Adrian? Getting dragged by his ear?"
"Who is that with him?"
"That is his sister. The new one. The one who caused all the chaos."
"Wait the girl who won the festival?"
"The same."
"Now she is being dragged down the hallway like a misbehaving child."
"Best. Day. Ever."
Ruz walked forced by the ear hold, her feet stumbling slightly as she tried to keep up. Adrian walked on the other side of Kuya, equally humiliated, equally trapped.
"…This is unnecessary," Adrian muttered.
"This is educational," Kuya corrected.
Ruz whispered, "I am going to get revenge for this. I am going to plan something terrible."
"I heard that," Kuya said.
"…Good," she said.
Behind them, Liam covered his face with both hands.
"I do not know them," he said. "I have never met them."
Josh was watching the scene with undisguised enjoyment.
"This is character development," he said. "Painful, public, humiliating character development. The best kind."
From a distance, Zayn watched. He was trying very hard not to laugh. His shoulders were shaking.
Beside him, Rifat watched too.
"I am thankful he is not my guardian," Rifat said.
Zayn glanced at him. "Me too."
"Next will be you," Ruz and Adrian said at the same time, without looking back. Their voices carried through the hallway like a prophecy.
Kuya reached the car.
He opened the door. And shoved them inside. Like useless things. No elegance. No care. No consideration for their dignity or their feelings or their carefully cultivated reputations.
"Sit," he said.
They sat. Immediately.
He closed the door. Hard. Walked around. Got in. Started the engine.
Silence filled the car. Heavy. Loud. Dangerous.
Ruz leaned slightly toward Adrian, her voice barely above a whisper.
"…Worth it," she said.
Adrian did not hesitate. "…Absolutely."
From the front seat, Kuya spoke.
"…I can still hear you," he said.
Both of them straightened instantly, their backs rigid, their mouths shut, their eyes fixed forward.
As the car drove away, students slowly exhaled.
Someone whispered, "…I am never fighting again. Ever. I do not care what anyone says. I am becoming a pacifist."
Another student said, "I am thanking my guardian today. I am hugging them. I am buying them a gift."
And somewhere in the crowd
Someone laughed quietly.
Because chaos was entertaining.
Until it happened to you.
The car door had barely closed behind them when reality hit.
Not the school kind of reality detentions and suspensions and meeting.That was easy. That was manageable.
This was worse.
This was home.
And at home, Kuya Azmain did not forget.
The moment they stepped inside, the house felt wrong. Too quiet. No background noise. No kitchen clatter. No Tito's commentary. Just silence. The kind of silence that meant something terrible was about to happen.
Ruz and Adrian exchanged a look.
A rare, silent agreement passed between them. The kind of agreement that came from years of shared trauma and mutual survival instincts.
"…Run?" Adrian whispered.
"…Run," Ruz confirmed.
They had exactly two seconds before
Azmain walked in.
Calm. Too calm.
And in his handb
A trimmer.
A real trimmer. The kind that ended identities and created new ones whether you wanted them or not.
Adrian stared at the trimmer. Then at Azmain. Then back at the trimmer.
"…That is not decorative, right?" he asked. "Please tell me that is decorative."
"No," Ruz said quietly, her eyes fixed on the trimmer. "That is execution. That is the trimmer of shame."
Kuya clicked the trimmer on.
BZZZZZ.
The sound echoed through the entire house. Deadly. Final. The kind of sound that made you reconsider every life choice that had led to this moment.
"…You said you would shave our heads," Adrian started carefully, "I did not think you actually meant it."
"I always keep my promises," Kuya replied.
That was it.
They ran.
Chaos returned instantly. Footsteps thundered through the hallway. Ruz sprinted left toward the kitchen. Adrian went right toward the stairs.
"THIS IS NOT MY FAMILY" Adrian shouted.
Tita rushed out from the kitchen, her eyes wide, her dish towel still in her hand.
"AZMAIN! What are you doing?!"
"Discipline," Kuya said, walking calmly after the fleeing siblings.
"With a trimmer?!"
"Yes."
"That is not discipline that is trauma!w"
Ruz dodged a chair. Adrian jumped over the couch. Kuya followed. Calm. Focused. Unstoppable. He did not run. He did not need to. He simply walked, and the children fled before him like leaves before a storm.
Tito appeared from nowhere, holding snacks, his eyes bright with excitement.
"Oh, this is getting good," he said.
"TITO, HELP!" Ruz shouted.
"I am emotionally supporting you," Tito called back.
"That is useless!"
"Correct!"
Adrian almost made it to the stairs.
Almost.
Kuya caught him by the collar. Clean. Precise. Efficient. The kind of grab that came from years of practice.
"…No," Adrian said.
"Yes," Kuya said.
"Let us talk about this. Like adults. Like reasonable people."
"We are," Kuya said.
And then
BZZZZZT.
A clean swipe. Half the side of Adrian's hair gone. Just like that. Vanished into the air like memories of better times.
Silence.
Adrian froze.
Slowly, very slowly, he reached up and touched the bare skin where his hair used to be.
Then
"…You betrayed me," he said.
Kuya stepped back, examining his work.
"Lesson one," he said.
Adrian stared into nothing, his hand still on his head, his soul clearly leaving his body.
"My reputation"
"Improved," Kuya said.
"Destroyed," Adrian corrected.
"Balanced," Kuya said.
Ruz was already backing away. Slowly. Carefully. Her eyes fixed on the trimmer like it was a wild animal that might attack at any moment.
"…Kuya, we can negotiate," she said.
"No," he said.
"I can cook."
"No."
"I can clean."
"No."
"I can disappear."
"Tempting," he said. "Still no."
He moved forward. She moved back. Then she turned and ran again.
Tita tried to block Kuya's path.
"Enough! This has gone too far!"
He stepped around her.
"Not far enough," he said.
"AZMAIN"
Too late.
He caught Ruz. Wrist. Firm. Controlled. Not hurting but not letting go either.
"…Stay still," he said.
"Absolutely not," she said.
"Ruz."
"No."
He lifted the trimmer.
She twisted moved and
ZZZT—
A sharp, uneven sound.
Then silence.
Both of them froze.
Ruz blinked.
"…Did you just..."
She reached up.
Not her hair.
Her eyebrow.
A small cut. Clean. But slightly off. Slightly uneven. The kind of mistake that was not a mistake at all.
"…You cut my eyebrow," she said.
Kuya paused. Looked at it. Examined his work like an artist examining a painting.
Then nodded once.
"…That works," he said.
Ruz stared at him. "That WORKS?!"
"Character," he said.
Adrian, still traumatized from his own haircut, looked over at her.
"…You look dangerous," he said.
"I am going to look criminal," she snapped.
Kuya stepped back. Turned off the trimmer.
Satisfied.
"Done."
And just like that he walked away. Like nothing had happened. Like he had not just committed multiple crimes against hair.
Silence.
Ruz and Adrian stood in the middle of the living room. Broken. Emotionally. Visually. Both of them stared at each other, then at their reflections in the dark television screen.
"…I have lost half my identity," Adrian said, touching the bare side of his head.
Ruz looked at her reflection in the window, at her uneven eyebrow, at the chaos reflected in her own eyes.
"…I look like I survived a fight with a lawnmower," she said.
"You did," Adrian said. "With a machine. A machine that had no mercy and no off switch."
They both stood there for a second, processing their new reality.
Then Ruz exhaled.
"…Salon," she said.
Adrian nodded. "…Immediately."
The salon receptionist took one look at them and paled.
"What is this?" she asked, staring at Adrian's half shaved head and Ruz's mutilated eyebrow.
"Fix it. Now," Ruz said, slamming her hand on the desk.
"I will try my best," the receptionist said, "but I cannot guarantee.."
"If you fail, you cannot survive," Adrian warned.
The receptionist called for backup.
An hour later, they stepped out of the salon.
Different. Completely different.
Adrian now had a clean razor fade sharp, styled, intentional. What had been damage was now design. What had been humiliation was now art. He looked like he had meant to do this. He looked like a model who had just stepped off a runway.
Ruz stood beside him. Her eyebrow was now shaped into a double slit cut stylish, bold, intentional. Not a mistake anymore. A statement.
She tilted her head slightly, examining her reflection in the salon mirror .
"…We fixed it," she said.
Adrian smirked, running his hand over his new haircut.
"…We upgraded," he said.
The salon owner cleared his throat loudly, clearly expecting thanks, clearly expecting payment, clearly expecting acknowledgment.
They glanced at him. Then ignored him completely.
"Main character energy," Ruz said.
"Obviously," Adrian said.
They walked out.
They walked back into the house slowly. Confidently. Like a dramatic entrance scene. Like they owned the place.
Tita turned from the kitchen, saw them, and paused.
"…What did you do now?" she asked.
Ruz flipped her hair slightly. "Evolution," she said.
Adrian added, "Character development."
Tita crossed her arms. "I leave you alone for one hour. And you come back looking like this."
Tito leaned forward from the sofa, his eyes wide, his snacks forgotten in his lap.
"…Okay, wait," he said. He stood up. Walked closer. Examined them like a proud judge at a competition.
"…This is actually amazing," he said.
Tita turned to him. "Antonio...."
"No, listen," he continued, circling them. "This is style. This is growth. This is what happens when life gives you trauma and you turn it into fashion."
"Injury," Tita cut in.
"Art," Tito corrected.
"Chaos."
"Fashion."
"Problem."
"Masterpiece."
"YOU ARE ENCOURAGING THEM," Tita said.
"Yes," Tito said proudly.
Tita pointed at him. "You are next."
Tito raised his hands immediately and stepped back.
"…I withdraw my support," he said. "I was never here. I saw nothing. I am innocent."
"It's all Azmain's fault, you all are same, You're giving me a headache."
Kuya walked back into the room.
He looked at them. Paused. Examined. Then nodded once.
"…Acceptable," he said.
That was it. Approval. Minimal. But real.
Ruz smirked slightly. Adrian relaxed.
"Unbelievable" Tita sighed.
That night, the house returned to noise.
To laughter. To chaos.
But now with better hair. And sharper edges.
Because sometimes you do not survive the damage.
You style it.