It was a sliver of moment. A brief slip up where I unconsciously loosened my self-control. Yet it was more than enough of an opportunity for her spur.

“Look at her! You just really loved to be named as a genius, huh?”

With eyes now glaring red, she constantly raised the pitch of her voice each time she finished a sentence.

“You just feel the need to prove that you are better than me, huh?”

And to voice her intentions even further, she would move a step closer with each of her shouts, now leaning her face right in front of mine.

“It was just a friendly match! But you just had to go, “Look! I’m a genius!”, huh?”

As if she was a volcano, seconds from disaster, she ended her emotion-filled arguments with an eruption.

"Isn't that right?!"

I see.

She yelled her lungs out, cranking her volume as loud as she could possibly muster. Using the aftermath of her commanding tone, she then sent a death glare towards everyone else around the room in continuation, demanding an immediate response from the souls that were present in the room, resorting to her usual techniques of survival.

The deafening silence then followed afterward, only to be enforced by everyone’s stillness. The only thing moving was the trembling lips of the freshmen who were clumped right behind me. As if noticing the fear that she managed to instill, Silvi grinned, bathed by the sensation of self-proclaimed victory. And even within the silence, Silvi’s intentions sounded clear. It was her plan of attack, a continuous pressure built to break these underclassmen into submission; bending the nature of the idle atmosphere towards her advantage. It was as if the world itself was forcing them to speak for Silvi. Indeed, they were her sacrificial pawns.

It was the most horrid scenery I had ever seen.

And exactly according to Silvi’s expectation, the students behind me sank their heads down looking towards the ground, burdened by the weight of Silvi’s ill will. Whatever tiny dash of individualism left was immediately kicked out and replaced by fear. With no resistance left in their eyes, I could see their mouths starting to quiver, unable to cope with the unbearable silence.

“Y-yeah... I think Gwen went a little too far.”

“Hm.”

“I thought that too.”

“Yeah, it was just supposed to be a friendly match.”

It was a sight of murder, a crime done by the blade of peer pressure. And all it took was one person. One individual and the others followed suit. Blinded, they all walked towards the same demise.

It reminded me of the tale of The Pied Piper.

With the sound of her magical pipe, Silvi swooned and brainwashed those she wanted, forcing them to follow her hind. Although in this case, the character was wearing a sports outfit and had no magic pipe. The only thing magical around here was how everyone was bewitched by the illusion of her “strength”. But you see, there is this one version of the story where the Pied Piper charmed all of the children in a village, leading them to drown in a river. And I believe, this tale before me was about to end similarly. Unfortunately, I was the only one wearing earplugs at the moment.

As their hearing was muffled with the piper’s music, so was their eyes blinded by fear. They were in no condition to see. How she acted; Her undeserved infamy built through shallow controversies; Her insatiable need for justification; Her arrogance of this false strength.

They were all blind to it.

All they could do was cower.

All of them.

“Weaklings.”

…

I have always been both interested and baffled by the term “Ice burn”. Well, other than the fact that Indonesia does not have winter seasons to begin with, the confusion comes from the contradiction of imagery that the term pictures.

 It is a bit weird, isn’t it? How something that has a low temperature could “burn” our skins off. The term is one of the rebels within the world of diction. But at this moment, I somehow managed to understand it a little better.

That sensation of sheer cold coming from the back of my head. I felt it shrouding my expression like a hood.

I raised my head slowly, proportionating myself directly in front of her. A gesture that told her of my intentions. With what I could only perceive as frigid; I conveyed my message with such a tone.

“Are you that insecure?”

“Huh?!”

Silvi, still acting mighty, raised her tone once again, clueless of what was happening in front of her. Engulfed by the flame of her bravado, her eyes lit with ferocity, presenting herself as “ready” through both her stature and expression. She was willing to swallow anything that stood in her path.

However, her appearance only strengthened the image of her delusion.

“The power which you regard with such persistence...”

Because both the fuel and fueled are a misconception.

“...Are you that afraid to lose it?”

And little by little, Silvi also began to understand what I once did not.

“And can such a thing still be described as strength if all it took was a game of badminton to relieve you from it?”

Shown through her features which now resembled more and more of that of a void. Blank, vacant without the ability to contradict nor to stay firm in conviction. Perhaps, a feeling of remorse has replaced her prior confidence.

“W-what are you even talking about?”

And in an attempt to do one or the other, the sound of the last trickle of her fuel stopped to a halt; a miserable effort to relight the fire within her. For what was left were mere sparks and flickers; dying out was inevitable. Without the need for a violent blizzard, a gentle cold breeze swept what any residual heat was left, leaving the conceited woman still in her place. Because there was nothing more. Nothing more for her to say.

“Just so you can feel good about yourself... Just so you can continue to proclaim this so-called power.”

What she had thought to be the source of her strength has been spun, now becoming her undisputable weakness. The power that once had been her condition of victory has now led her straight to downfall. And to anyone, there was no better description of an insult. Because what she was then, has now been reduced to nil.

What an irony.

The fuel that had ignited your will; had set you aflame instead.

Yet here you are, standing stationary, frozen by my nature.

Do you understand it now? The contradiction which lies beyond the emanating temperature of my gaze?