Kopi shut his eyes.
He couldn't bear to see what he had done.
He shed blood for others' sake.
The sight of the young man's gaze and quick interaction with him flashed in his memory like a film.
He wept, his hand trembling while grasping the hilt of the butterfly knife… that ended the life of the young man.
He slowly retracted his hand and didn't even dare to move from his position.
Time passed by, and soon, it was already night.
The alleyway didn't have any single street light or whatever object that could illuminate the surroundings.
It was now pitch-black… like his vision when he closed his eyes.
Slowly, he opened them, and his vision didn't take long to get accustomed to the darkness.
Staring at the young man, he discerned his emotions cooled down.
He could not cry anymore. His heart seemed to become numb.
He also didn't feel any excruciating pain after his body healed.
The blood was the only remaining… and the cadaver in front of him.
Staring at the young man for five minutes, he finally moved.
He didn't have to glance at his hands brimmed with viscous slightly dry blood.
He grasped the fabric on the back of his head and untied it.
He slowly removed it and threw it away.
He glanced at the young man with his pitch-black eyes. His a bit long, messy pitch-black hair with blood painted on it fluttered in the night breeze as he was silently observing.
His bony face was not exempted, and it, too, was wrapped with painted blood.
His worn-out sleeveless shirt exposed the skeletal bones on his upper torso.
And his emaciated limb lay on his crossed leg helplessly.
After some time, Kopi perceived he finally had the energy to move, so he slowly stood up.
He walked to the wall and leaned his back on it.
He recalled the bald middle-aged man smoking in the same position.
'Does smoking really help alleviate problems aside from feeling cool?'
Of course, Kopi was naturally aware of the consequences smoking would bring.
But, ever since then, was there a cure for mental health?
Hence, he believed it would be a fair trade to smoke – on the occasion he needed to.
He stared at the cadaver again and exhaled a stressful air.
"I will give you a proper burial," he muttered. "There is no way I will throw your body in some other place. I was not raised to be insensible and disrespectful."
Even so, he didn't have the tools to dig.
Furthermore, from what he knew, he had to dig so deep to avoid the stench from radiating, or else it would be discovered.
Kopi examined around and discovered a dilapidated trash can.
Before, alleyways in the slum sector had always been filled with trash, so the trashcan was placed to avoid pollution.
Regardless, it only decreased, but in Kopi's perspective, trash was still everywhere.
Of course, he wasn't counting humans he knew.
Kopi ambled forward to the trash can, grabbed the lid, and was satisfied by it.
He was now assured it was sufficient to dig a deep hole.
It would still take him overnight to achieve his goal, but he couldn't care about it.
He wasn't also worried about his family's situation, for he was confident his father must have woken up earlier.
If not… Well, his younger brother has always been acting independently.
Unless something happened, his younger brother could take care of it.
He even knew how to cook, so Kopi worriedless.
"I guess it's time to work." Kopi beamed a smile.
Kopi searched for the perfect spot where the soil was soft and could effortlessly dig.
When he had chosen, he first looked in the trash can for something that could cover the cadaver.
He had to avoid getting attention outside, even though they usually ignored killing in this place.
If it was before the peaceful times, when killing was a big deal, in this current era, it still is, but it depends on the place.
In the slum sector, killing was a norm.
But if a child was killed… it was not.
After clawing, he finally discovered a reeking black carton.
He strolled to the cadaver and wrapped him with it. But it was only his upper torso.
Hence, Kopi looked for more until the cadaver was completely covered and appeared not a corpse anymore.
Assured, Kopi began to dig the hole.
…
An azure little bird landed on one of the roofs while the rising sun warmed its body. It extended its right wings and began to lick it.
Thud!
A sudden noise startled it, and it searched for the cause.
There, he found a fragile-looking young man with black circles under his eyes, leaning on the wall of the other ramshackle building while puffing his breath.
His arm was on the high, grasping a lid with fissures below. It was completely covered with dirt and seemed to break at any moment.
Thud!
Another thud resonated again, and the azure little bird chirped in annoyance and flew away.
The noise came from the lid, dropping to the ground.
Kopi's lifeless limbs stretched to the earth.
He tried to move, but he was so exhausted.
Even so, he smiled.
"I have given you a proper burial. Next are the people who tortured you," mumbled Kopi, staring at the line of text carved on the floor.
"Brother" was what could be read.
Even when their interaction was short, Kopi had already treated the young man as his brother.
Even when the text gradually faded, the memory was etched in his mind and heart.
Kopi huffed and grumbled.
'Why is this goddamn self-regeneration not restoring my energy?' He tittered. 'Well, it's self-regeneration, not energy.'
At all costs, Kopi wanted to leave as soon as possible before the blackout would haunt him.
He had to avoid collapsing, especially at this place.
Utilizing his remaining strength, he stood up and began to sluggishly walk outside of the alleyway.
When he was about to turn, he didn't forget to turn his head and glanced at the place where he buried his brother.
He smiled and bid a farewell.
"Until the next time. I will not face you until I succeed in my revenge. I hope you will have patience…
And may rest in peace."
With that, Kopi disappeared.