In the middle of a gloomy country that her mother calls 'London', 4-year-old Suzuki Sonoko stood among a crowd of people dressed in black. She gazed around with a mixture of confusion and impatience, her small hand gripping the barrier bars that separated her from the sombre scene across the street.

"I am bored," Sonoko found herself saying to her mother.

Her father and sister were not around at that time and took a different flight due to her sister's commitments in school, so they would be arriving a little late around an hour's time. Her mother gently shushed her, her expression stern yet understanding. "Sonoko, this is a funeral. It's a solemn occasion. You need to be respectful."

"But I don't know anyone here," Sonoko pouted, feeling restless and out of place among the sombre crowd.

Her mother sighed softly, her tone gentle. "I understand, dear. But sometimes, we attend these events to show support for others, even if we don't know them personally."

"Can we go now? I'm tired of standing."

 "We'll leave soon, but let's wait a little longer out of respect." Her mother, dressed in dark attire like everyone else, knelt down to Sonoko's eye level. 

"Why do we have to be here, Okaasan?" Sonoko pouted, her lips forming a small frown. "I don't even know who is the boy who died, so why am I here?"

"I couldn't find a babysitter at the last minute, Sonoko."

"But you could've left me with the maids and butlers," Sonoko finds herself pouting.

"I wanted to, but your father has a point, as the daughter of the Suzuki, you have to attend events as a representative on occasion."

"Not really, Ayako-neesan is the successor, so I don't need to since I am the spare."

Suddenly, the distant sound of drums caught Sonoko's attention, and she turned her head towards the source of the noise. As she looked across the street, she saw a procession approaching. Men dressed in traditional clothing rode on horses, while a hearse behind them was carrying a beautifully adorned casket. The casket was surrounded by a sea of flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting starkly with the solemn atmosphere.

Sonoko watched with wide eyes as the procession came closer. The mourners walked behind the hearse, their faces sombre and their expressions filled with grief. The whole scene was unlike anything she had ever witnessed before.

Amid the mourners, she noticed a girl who appeared to be around her age.

With red lips, and an adorned rose eyepatch, she is dressed in her school uniform of Edgewood Academy. The girl's eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she clutched a large frame of the deceased person, a little dirty blonde-haired boy around the age of 8 smiling in the photo. She looked lost in her grief, her small form standing out amidst the adults around her.

As the procession passed by, Sonoko's gaze lingered on the girl.

That is when the mourners surrounding Sonoko spoke among themselves in awe while voicing out in British English.

 "That girl is....how old is she?"

"Four."

"What is with her eyepatch?"

"The kidnapper of the deceased boy, who is his biological mother, kidnapped her to lure her son whom she lost custody to her ex-husband and mistress. I heard he ran back to save her, but he ended up getting killed by that deranged woman. During that poor girl's captivity, I heard that psycho dug out the little girl's eye."

"Really!?"

"Yeah, and this incident took a week ago. During that period, she stoically rehabilitated herself after learning that the deceased boy picked her family to do his funeral as if he knew this was coming."

"Ah, that poor yet brave little child."

"I also heard she walked 2 hours around the city non-stop, and she was only discharged yesterday."

"Poor child."

"Yet admirable. I wouldn't be able to do it if I were in her shoes."

As the praises continued among the mourners, Sonoko frowned wondering how is that girl great? All she had was to simply survive a tragic backstory, and she is already showered with praise. Really?

She turned to tell her mother this, but to Sonoko's surprise, her mother was busy conversing with one of the mourners in English. "She really is a brave child, isn't she?" One told her mother.

"She is, very brave and very dignified, I too wouldn't have done that at her age." Sonoko's mother admitted.

"What about the daughter whom you brought with you?"

"She? She doesn't stand a chance," Her mother laughed it off.

As the mourners continued to discuss the brave girl's story, Sonoko's discomfort grew. She felt a mixture of confusion, jealousy, and frustration. Why was everyone praising that girl for simply surviving a tragic incident? And why was her own mother seemingly dismissing her capabilities?

Outraged, Sonoko blatantly blurted out to her mother in anger, "So what!? Her job is simple, just look pretty and pitiful while guiding the coffin and do a 2-hour walk all the way to the chapel anyway! I can do better, Okaasan!"

The moment Sonoko's words left her mouth, she realised she had unexpectedly spoken aloud.

"Sonoko!" Her mother slowly hissed at her while her daughter's words hung in the air, and Sonoko's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the people around her fell silent, their gazes shifting towards her. 

And then, she noticed the girl—the one with the rose eyepatch and the grief-stricken expression. The shock on the girl's face was unmistakable. It was as if Sonoko's words had murdered someone. 

The girl turned away, her one visible eye welling up with tears. She clutched the framed picture of the little boy even tighter against her chest as if seeking solace from it. The girl's vulnerability and raw emotion were painfully evident, making Sonoko's guilt intensify.

As the procession continued to move forward, the people around Sonoko gave looks of disapproval and contempt, wondering why a rude child was present at the funeral. Sonoko's face turned crimson with embarrassment, and she felt a mixture of shame, regret and a little annoyance with the attention she was getting for all the wrong reasons.

The one lucky thing out of all of this was the red-lipped girl couldn't stop to confront her, as she entered the cathedral gracefully.

 "What? It's the truth," Sonoko argued.

"Suzuki Sonoko!" her mother admonished in a hushed yet stern tone. The weight of her mother's disappointment and reprimand hung heavily in the air. The crowd's disapproving gazes only added to Sonoko's discomfort.

Feeling a mixture of shame and frustration, Sonoko bit her lower lip, holding back tears of embarrassment. She wished she could disappear into thin air, away from the eyes that were now fixated on her. She had spoken without thinking, without realizing the impact her words could have on others—especially on that girl who was already dealing with unimaginable grief.

But Suzuki Sonoko is also a prideful child. She apologizes to no one.

Which is why she later said, "I wouldn't have said that if you were comparing me to that girl!"

With her prideful resolve, Sonoko's words in her memory echoed in her mind. She had spoken out of frustration, a mix of jealousy and resentment towards the girl with the eyepatch who was receiving praise for her bravery in the face of tragedy. 

Eventually, this pride of hers would eventually bring her to the worst place of hell.

..............................................................................

If standing outside the Cathedral wasn't as boring as it is, the worst was yet to come when she sat on one of the benches with her mother inside the Cathedral.

Boredom continued to drag on as the funeral service went on inside the cathedral. The sombre atmosphere, the unfamiliar faces, and the foreign language being spoken were all contributing to Sonoko's growing impatience. She squirmed in her seat, her mind wandering aimlessly as she glanced around, hoping for something to capture her interest.

Even though she is reunited with her father and sister Ayaoko for coming all the way from the airport, and the two manage to entertain her with some jokes before the ceremony begins, Sonoko is still bored. Her mother's stern look warned her to behave, and so she sat reluctantly, fidgeting and sighing audibly. The weight of her mother's disappointment from earlier still lingered, and Sonoko couldn't help but feel a mixture of guilt and frustration. She regretted her outburst, especially now that she realized how much it had hurt the girl with the eyepatch.

At the same time, however, her pride outweighed her regret.

In an attempt to distract herself from the boredom and guilt, Sonoko's gaze drifted to the beautifully adorned casket at the front of the cathedral. She observed the intricate designs, the fresh flowers, and the solemn expressions of those who were paying their respects.

As her eyes scanned the scene, something unexpected caught her attention—beneath the open casket was an ornate sword attached to it like a decoration.

The sword was unlike anything Sonoko had seen before. It had an intricate hilt adorned with gemstones and a beautifully crafted blade with delicate etchings that caught the light. Despite its obvious significance, it seemed to be more than just a decorative piece. There was an air of history and power surrounding it.

As her eyes remained fixed on the sword, Sonoko felt a strange sensation—a tingling that seemed to travel up her spine and settle in the back of her mind. Anything shiny and pretty, she must take a look.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself rising from her seat without a second thought. Ignoring the disapproving glances from her mother and the other mourners, Sonoko was about to step forward, but then her mother had a firm grip around her wrist.

With a firm grip on her wrist, Sonoko's mother pulled her back down into her seat, a stern expression on her face. "Sonoko, sit down. This is not the time or place for your wandering."

Frustration boiled within Sonoko, her desire to explore and quench her curiosity clashing against her mother's strictness. She resented being treated like a child, especially in a setting that felt so foreign and suffocating.

As the funeral service continued, Sonoko's mind churned with a mixture of resentment and boredom. She felt trapped, unable to escape the sombre atmosphere and her mother's watchful gaze. Her eyes kept flicking back to the casket and the shimmering sword resting upon it.

All of a sudden, everything came to a halt the moment the 4-year-old girl in the rose eyepatch announced that there was a story to share.

Started to share this story about a beloved prince's funeral being rudely disrupted by some hooligan in front of the king and queen, much less the horrified nobles. The King was enraged by this, he took a sword and aimed it directly at the rude person's neck.

That is right, perhaps back then, Sonoko should've been alerted.

Yet, she wasn't. She did not foresee many things when it happened.

Not the fact that the 4-year-old red lip girl was so angry by Sonoko's comments, she snatched the ornate sword, then aimed it directly at her neck.

The sight of the girl holding the ornate sword, her eyes blazing with anger, sent shockwaves through Sonoko's body. The atmosphere in the cathedral grew tense as everyone turned to witness the unexpected turn of events.

Sonoko's heart raced as she locked eyes with the girl. Fear and disbelief mingled in her chest, her mind struggling to process the gravity of the situation. She had never imagined that her idle curiosity and frustration would lead to such a dangerous confrontation.

"Ooi Ranran-"

The 4-year-old girl who held the sword with her own hands ignored her parents calling out to her, let alone, the grieving parents of the boy in the coffin, as the blood was leaking out of 4-year-old Sonoko's neck as she spoke in bitterness, "Go and beg and your knees right this instance, in front of Christopher's coffin, and have your head touch the holy floor, otherwise, you will end up having your head presented like the story I told you."

The world around Sonoko seemed to blur as the weight of the situation crashed down on her. Her hand instinctively pressed against her neck, feeling the wet warmth of blood seeping through her fingers. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the shock and terror she felt.

She had never anticipated that her thoughtless words would lead to this—a confrontation so intense and life-threatening. The ornate sword glinted in the dim light of the cathedral, a stark reminder of the danger she was facing.

"Ranran, put the sword down!" Ranran's parents' frantic voices were drowned out by the rush of blood in Sonoko's ears. Sonoko could barely hear anything beyond the ringing in her head.

"Hey! How dare you-ah!" Ranran pushed the sword coldly at the 4-year-old's neck, causing Sonoko to flinch back in fear. The cold steel of the blade grazed her skin, and she could feel a sharp, searing pain as a thin cut formed along her neck.

"Hey! This is murder!" 11-year-old Ayako, Sonoko's sister, screamed at Ranran to back off.

 "So what if it is," The 4-year-old red-lipped girl jabbed hard at her neck, and a fresh wave of pain shot through Sonoko's body. Tears welled up in her eyes as the reality of the situation sank in—she was in mortal danger, and the girl wielding the sword seemed determined to carry out her threat.

"Ranran, please!" Ayako's voice was desperate as she stepped forward, her hands held out in a pleading gesture. "Don't do this! You're just a child!"

"A child?" Ranran mocked before the 11-year-old coldly, "I am a child, your sister is one too. We are both of the same age, briefed the same rules of how to conduct ourselves in this very funeral, so is her age an excuse to misbehave?"

Sonoko's breath came in ragged gasps as fear tightened its grip around her chest. The pain in her neck throbbed, a constant reminder of the precarious situation she was in. The words Ranran spoke struck Sonoko like a slap in the face—true, they were of the same age, and she had indeed misbehaved earlier. But she hadn't expected her actions to lead to this.

Ranran had the sword directed at them as well before turning back at Sonoko and barking orders at her, "Kneel before Christopher, otherwise, after presenting your head to Christopher, I will soon join him in the afterlife."

The cathedral was engulfed in a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of Ranran's authoritative voice and the rapid beating of Sonoko's heart. The weight of the ornate sword felt like a spectre looming over her, a reminder that her life hung in the balance.

Sonoko's eyes darted around, seeking an escape, a way out of this terrifying situation. But in every direction she looked, all she saw were stunned and horrified faces. The adults seemed paralyzed by shock, and the other children stared wide-eyed at the unfolding drama.

At first, the adults were saying things, telling Ranran to put down the sword, and Sonoko had some tiny hope that it would work in her favour.

But then one of the Edgewood children said something that changed everything. "I agree with this child, make this rude imbecile kneel in front of the coffin, and plead his forgiveness for the rest of the funeral!"

"I agree with what Ranran said earlier!" Another child stood up in anger, "We are all Edgewood Academy children, taught what is right and wrong. That Sonoko brat may not have been a Edgewood kid, but she was briefed on the same rules as us. If we don't comply, we will be punished. So why should she be spared!?"

"Yeah! Make her kneel!"

"Do you want to set her as an example that outsiders can do the same, but Edgewood kids can't!?"

The words of agreement from the other children echoed in Sonoko's ears, adding to the suffocating pressure that had settled in the room. She felt trapped, cornered by the expectations and judgments of those around her.

"Look, little missy, this has gone far enough! We understand that you're upset, but this is not the way to handle things!" Her father who was sitting behind Sonoko tries to defend her.

"So you are her parents, huh?" Ranran spoke in a mocking tone as she addressed Sonoko's parents, her grip on the sword-like decoration steady. "You obviously did a horrible despicable job raising her, even though the rules of this funeral are briefed!"

The accusations and condemnation from the children were like daggers, each word cutting into Sonoko's already wounded pride. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths coming in short gasps as panic threatened to overwhelm her.

In that moment, surrounded by judgment and hostility, Sonoko's thoughts raced. She couldn't deny that she had acted thoughtlessly and hurt another child, but the severity of the situation had spiralled out of control beyond anything she could have imagined.

Desperation coursed through her veins, and her gaze flicked towards the exit, considering making a run for it. But the sight of Ranran's determined expression and the sword in her hand served as a chilling reminder that she wouldn't make it far.

Because Ranran will kill her, she can see it in her eyes.

She won't even mind ending up in prison if she has to.

"We understand that emotions are running high, but this isn't the appropriate way to deal with the situation!" Her mother preached at the rose eyepatch girl before her.

"Eh....? Just like how your daughter compared herself to me? While I was leading the funeral procession?" Ranran began to revise Sonoko's words earlier outside while leading the funeral procession, "So what!? Her job is simple, just look pretty and pitiful while guiding the coffin and do a 2-hour walk all the way to the chapel anyway! I can do better, Okaasan!"

The reiteration of Sonoko's words, twisted and thrown back at her, felt like a cruel twist of fate. The humiliation and fear she had inadvertently caused Ranran had now come back to haunt her with a vengeance.

"You have two choices: Make your daughter kneel before Christopher's coffin. Unless you want all of us, including the very children of Edgewood Academy, be it nobles, royals or commoners alike, to go up to the press, and tell how the Suzuki's second daughter is a narcissist who thinks of herself as looking pretty in a funeral of a murdered little Duke, the same Duke who was murdered in cold blood by his mother! I am sure the BOD will be more than happy to learn how the parenting ways run within the Suzuki family."

Obviously, Sonoko's family looked shocked and horrified by the ultimatum laid before her. So was Sonoko.

"You can choose to say no, I won't stop you. It is your obligation as a parent after all. But if the values of your shares regarding your corporation plummets after we head to the press, don't try to sue us all, cause you can bet you have too many witnesses here to even cover your daughter's callous act." Ranran reminded them.

The weight of the ultimatum was suffocating, the threat to their reputation and business devastating. Sonoko's parents exchanged glances, their faces etched with distress and helplessness. They were cornered, trapped in a no-win situation where their daughter's thoughtless words had led to a potential disaster.

"You wouldn't dare!" The mother screeched.

"Try me," Ranran challenged the shocked woman, "So choose, life on the streets, or your daughter's callous act."

The tension in the cathedral was palpable, and Sonoko felt the weight of the ultimatum like a crushing force. Sonoko's heart raced, her thoughts spinning in a frantic whirlwind. She had never imagined that her impulsive words could have such dire consequences. Her pride and thoughtlessness had led her to this point—a life-or-death decision.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and her hands trembled. The pain in her neck from the shallow cut Ranran had inflicted was a constant reminder of the danger she was in. It was a stark contrast to the serenity and solemnity that a funeral was supposed to represent.

The silence stretched, and the pressure in the room seemed to tighten its grip around Sonoko. The accusing eyes of the other children, the horrified expressions of the adults, and the determined look in Ranran's eye—it was all too much to bear.

 "You...did your mother not teach you what happen to little girls who play with fire?" Ayako confronted the furious 4-year-old before her, hoping she would be conflicted about this.

To her surprise, Ranran chuckledly darkly before the 11-year-old, "She did. Master it well, then you can burn back at others a million times fold without getting hurt!"

Ranran's response, delivered with a chilling smirk, sent shivers down Sonoko's spine. It was clear that this 4-year-old girl was not just a product of a tragic backstory, but someone who had been shaped by her experiences into someone unafraid of wielding power and exacting revenge.

"You think you can manipulate us with your threats?! You are only a child!" Sonoko's dad could be heard yelling.

"Ah, Mr Suzuki, you shouldn't say that. It is a life lesson one should learn through the stepping stones of life, don't you think?"

The 4-year-old girl's response was unnerving. The way she spoke, and the confidence she exuded—it all painted a picture of a child who had experienced a level of darkness and manipulation far beyond her years. Her remark about mastering the art of using fire without getting burned was a metaphorical reminder that she had learned to use her painful past to her advantage.

Sonoko's parents, while clearly outraged by the threats, were also trapped in a corner, facing a choice that seemed impossible. The ultimatum Ranran had given them was a cruel one—either they submitted to her demands and humiliated their own daughter, or they faced the consequences of a ruined reputation.

"Y-y-you utter she-demon!" The mother's voice wavered.

"Tick-tock, time is ticking. What will it be?" Ranran clicked her lips.

"Tousan!" Sonoko was pleadingly giving adorable looks to her father, hoping he would give in to her, the same way he had always done.

But to her surprise, her father looking defeated spoke to her, "Sonoko, you don't have a choice."

At that moment, Sonoko's pride was shattered to pieces. 

Her father's words hit her like a punch to the gut, a painful reminder of the reality of her situation. She had often relied on her father's indulgence and leniency in the past, expecting him to come to her rescue no matter how dire the circumstances. But now, faced with the gravity of the choice before them, he was telling her that there was no way out.

"Sonoko, we've reached a point where your actions have consequences. You can't escape them now." The father spoke grimly.

Jabbing the sword as it continues to prick at Sonoko's neck while her eyes widen, Ranran goes, "I can deliver your head to Christopher's coffin right now if you want to. Or better, Edgewoodians," Ranran turned to the angry children of Edgewood, "Teach this despicable girl to never sully the honour of a deceased duke by dragging her in front of Christopher's coffin, right now!"

The cathedral was filled with chaos and tension as the Edgewood children mobilized to enforce Ranran's demand. Sonoko's heart pounded in her chest, her breaths coming in short gasps as she realized the gravity of her situation. She was being physically overpowered by children older than her, led by the fierce 4-year-old with the rose eyepatch.

"Let me go!" Sonoko yelled, but the Edgewood kids would not budge, while her horrified parents and the adult's mourner helplessly watched.

"Enough!" Ayako's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "This is going too far, even for you."

"Too far?" Ranran scoffed coldly at the eldest daughter of the Suzuki family, "I can see why your sister is so spoiled now, justifying every single wrong she has ever done. Edgewoodians," Ranran announced to her schoolmates, "Do what you guys need to do."

"You-Ah!"

To Ayako's surprise, even Ranran did not hesitate to have the sword pointed at the 11-year-old, "Don't push your luck and justify coddling, Suzuki Ayako. What your sister said was too thoughtless, she must pay for her sins."

The atmosphere in the cathedral had escalated to a dangerous level. The tension was thick, emotions were raw, and the threat of violence hung heavy in the air. Sonoko's heart raced, her chest constricted by fear and the overwhelming realization that her words had ignited this volatile situation.

Ayako's attempt to intervene and reason with Ranran was met with defiance. It was clear that the 4-year-old with the rose eyepatch was unyielding, determined to make Sonoko face the consequences of her callous words. The ornate sword, once a mere decoration, had transformed into a symbol of power and manipulation.

Despite Ayako's plea, Ranran was resolute, even turning the sword toward the elder sister, showing her willingness to escalate the confrontation further. The message was clear—Ranran was not someone to be underestimated, and she was willing to take drastic measures to ensure her demands were met.

"Enough!" A stern voice cut through the chaos, and the cathedral fell into a tense silence as everyone turned to the source of the command. It was the clergyman who had been officiating the funeral. His expression was a mixture of shock and disapproval as he took in the scene before him.

"What is the meaning of this? This is a place of mourning and respect," the clergyman admonished, his voice carrying the weight of authority.

"Sir," Ranran chuckled back at that clergyman, "You have no say in this, since you whisper among God's sons and daughters when Christopher was murdered a lot."

The clergyman's face paled, and his gaze flickered with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Ranran's words seemed to strike a nerve, revealing a truth that had been hidden from the public eye. The mention of Christopher's murder cast a dark shadow over the already tense situation, deepening the sense of tragedy that had unfolded.

"Young lady, this is not the way to handle your grief or express your concerns," the clergyman responded his tone a mix of sternness and concern.

Ranran's grip on the sword remained steady, her determination unwavering. "Grief? Oh, funny you should say that. Very funny. Since your 'brothers' and 'sisters' officiated so many unhappy marriages on this very church, the kids of Edgewood are paying the price."

The clergyman's expression shifted from sternness to genuine concern, his eyes narrowing as he observed Ranran more closely. The revelations she was making seemed to be rattling him, casting a shadow over his authority and the sanctity of the place they were in.

"Listen to me, young lady," the clergyman's voice took on a gentler tone, "I understand that you're hurting, but resorting to threats and violence is not the answer. Let's find a way to address your concerns in a more appropriate manner."

"Sure, let's do it," Ranran challenged with a cynical smile, "Just like how Christopher comes to this church every Sunday to lament about his abusive mother, but even you and the others were too much of a coward to stop the abuse because his mother is the one who extorted money from Christopher's father to keep this very church running anyway."

The clergyman's face turned even paler, his shock evident. The 4-year-old girl's words seemed to cut through the facade of respectability and reveal the dark secrets that lay beneath the surface. The revelation that Christopher had been a victim of abuse and that the clergy had turned a blind eye to it struck at the heart of the cathedral's reputation.

"Child, what you're saying is a serious accusation," the clergyman's voice quivered slightly, his eyes shifting as if searching for support from the other adults in the room.

"Accusation? No, no, no," Ranran's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not accusing, I'm merely stating the facts all through the ledgers of this very church that I obtained not long ago."

"You!"

"So unless you all want to have this truth buried deep beneath your pious façades to avoid jail time and reserving a V.I.P slot in Hell upon all of your deathbeds, you might as well comply!"

The atmosphere in the cathedral had transformed from a sombre funeral service into a tense confrontation between a determined 4-year-old and the authority figures who were supposed to uphold morality and righteousness. The tension was palpable, and the adults' discomfort was evident in their shifting expressions and uneasy glances. By this point, even the church people were scared over how much power this little girl had over them.

"Now, Edgewoodians," Ranran called out to her schoolmates, "Drag Sonoko to her knees."

Without hesitation, and presumably after years of anger and injustice in the prestigious Edgewood Academy, the children of various backgrounds: Royalty, nobles and intelligent commoners dragged the unwilling 4-year-old Sonoko as she protested, "Let me go! This is insane! I won't kneel!"

"You have no choice, otherwise, you would be setting a bad example to everyone in this church!" The Edgewood children snapped at the unwilling heiress, their support for Ranran unwavering as they continued to pull Sonoko towards the front of Christopher's coffin.

"Looks like the majority has spoken, darling. Welcome to democracy." Ranran's red lip curled.

While the children continued to chant 'Kneel' repeatedly, and with Sonoko struggling against their grasp, the cathedral had turned into a chaotic scene of conflict and emotion. The adults looked on with a mix of shock, concern, and in some cases, sympathy for the situation that had unfolded.

Despite her protests and struggles, Sonoko found herself being dragged to her knees before the open casket of the deceased duke. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as a mix of humiliation, fear, and anger coursed through her veins. The scene before her was surreal—the once beautifully adorned casket now served as a backdrop to her public humiliation.

"Now, repeat after me," Ranran's voice was chilling, cutting through the chaos and tension like a knife. Sonoko's gaze met the lifeless form of the young duke, and a shiver ran down her spine. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, the eyes of the mourners fixed on her as she struggled to process what was happening.

"'I am sorry for being a narcissistic little donkey who made your prestigious funeral all about myself, also the fact that I can't follow the instructions of funeral ethics like an imbecile'," Ranran instructed.

"I don't want to!"

Sonoko's pride burned within her, a fierce resistance against the words she was being forced to utter. 

"Again, repeat before him," Ranran stared down at the child before her, "One more time, or this," The sword directed at her left eye," This eye will be blind if you don't."

Sonoko clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as her heart raced. The words felt like daggers on her tongue, a direct attack on her sense of self and dignity.

But the weight of the circumstances and the overwhelming pressure were too much to bear. The fear of the sword that had been pointed at her, the anger of the children who surrounded her, and the judgmental eyes of the adults—all of it combined to break down her defences.

"I... I am sorry for being a narcissistic little donkey who made your prestigious funeral all about myself," Sonoko's voice trembled as she began to repeat the words. Each syllable felt like a bitter pill, hard to swallow but impossible to avoid.

The air was thick with a mix of emotions—discomfort, pity, disbelief, and in some cases, a twisted sense of satisfaction at seeing an arrogant child brought down from her pedestal.

Even so, Ranran didn't seem pleased with Sonoko's words. So she says, "Good, now continue on for 2 hours nonstop as the ceremony continues."

"What?! 2 hours? Are you out of your mind?!"

 "Oh, I assure you, I'm very much in my right mind. And if you don't want to end up with a blind eye like my rose eye patch I am wearing here, you'll do as I say."

 The confrontation had taken an unexpected turn, as the 4-year-old with the rose eyepatch wielded both her words and the ornate sword to exert control over the situation. Sonoko found herself trapped, her pride shattered, and her defiance overpowered by the threat of violence.

.............................................................................

For the next 2 hours, life was hell for 4-year-old Suzuki Sonoko.

Kneeling before the casket of the deceased young duke, she recited the humiliating words Ranran had instructed her to say. The ceremony continued, mourners paid their respects, and all the while, Sonoko's voice echoed with apologies she didn't truly feel.

The weight of her humiliation was almost unbearable. She felt exposed and vulnerable, her sense of self-worth crumbling with every repetition of the degrading words. She could see the judgment in the eyes of the adults and the satisfaction in the faces of the Edgewood children. The sword, symbolizing both power and threat, remained pointed at her, a constant reminder of her predicament.

As the minutes dragged on, Sonoko's knees grew sore, her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes. Her emotions were a tumultuous mix of shame, anger, and helplessness. The situation had spiralled out of control beyond anything she could have anticipated, and she was trapped in a cycle of humiliation that seemed never-ending.

Her parents watched on with a mixture of sorrow and regret, their faces etched with the pain of seeing their daughter suffer. The clergyman, who had been shocked and challenged by Ranran's revelations earlier, also observed the scene with a heavy heart, clearly grappling with the complexities of the situation.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ceremony came to an end.

"Time's almost up. You can stand now."

 Sonoko slowly rose to her feet, her face red and tear-stained. The weight of the situation seemed to have left its mark, in a more humiliating aspect since she wet herself midway out of fear, oppression and trauma.

But Ranran and the Edgewood children didn't feel bad about it one bit.

"Well, well, seems like our little heiress had a little accident. How... unfortunate."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, you she-demon!?" Sonoko trembled as she argued, she is certain Ranran was secretly laughing internally.

"Oh, absolutely. Watching karma do its thing is quite satisfying, I must say." Ranran's laughter mingled with the other Edgewood children as she replied.

Sonoko's face turned a deeper shade of red, her humiliation now on full display. The young Edgewood children had been filled with hate towards her for disrespecting their deceased friend, while her family was powerlessly horrified.

The cathedral's atmosphere was heavy with a mix of discomfort, pity, and a sense of closure as the ceremony concluded. "Well, it seems that fate has a sense of humour. Who would've thought that our proud heiress would end up in such a situation?"

"You... you won't get away with this!" Sonoko's voice trembled in an outcry.

"Oh, but I already have. Your actions spoke for themselves. And thanks to your noble sacrifice, your family and yourself will not end up living on the streets." Ranran spoke in an unwavering manner.

The Edgewood children who heard this were rather pleased with this since Sonoko spoke ill of their deceased friend by making the funeral about herself, it only made them gladder to see Sonoko's dress reeked a horrid smell.

"This... isn't over."

"Of course, it will never be over," Ranran's laughter rang out, echoing in the sacred space. "When we meet again one day, I look forward to the day you wet yourself once more in front of your family, your mother, father and sister. Edgewoodians," The 4-year-old called out to her schoolmates, "Escort her out of the holy grounds. Her presence is too foul for someone like Christopher."

.............................................................................

The aftermath of the confrontation was a mix of emotions. As the Edgewood children escorted Sonoko out of the cathedral, she felt a mixture of anger, humiliation, and a deep sense of powerlessness. Her pride had been shattered, her reputation tarnished, and she had been publicly humiliated in front of the entire community. The sense of injustice burned within her, but there was little she could do at that moment.

Ranran stood in the midst of her Edgewood peers, her rose eyepatch gleaming in the dim light. The children around her regarded her with a mix of admiration, fear, and camaraderie. She had shown them a glimpse of power that few could wield, and whether they fully agreed with her methods or not, they had been witness to a display of strength that had shaken their world.

After that incident, Ranran's actions sent ripples of impact throughout the community. Her ability to manipulate the situation, reveal hidden truths, and exert control over the adults and children alike had left a lasting impression. While some may have seen her as a ruthless and vindictive child, others may have been sympathetic to the pain that had driven her to such extreme measures.

As for Sonoko however, she was so shaken by this incident, that she passed out and ended up having a fever. The weight of the humiliation, the trauma of the confrontation, and the emotional turmoil had taken a toll on the young heiress. As she lay in her bed, her mind replayed the events over and over, and she felt a profound sense of shame that seemed to consume her.

Eventually, time seemed to have a way of softening the edges of such painful memories. As years passed, Sonoko's mind allowed her to forget the details of that fateful day, or perhaps her subconscious buried them deep within, protecting her from the overwhelming emotions they carried.

By the time Sonoko turned 6 and met Ranran again in Teitan Elementary School, her memories of the cathedral incident had faded into obscurity. Instead, she remembered Ranran as 'The villainess who stole Shinichi from her best friend, Mouri Ran,' a memory that was tinged with bitterness and resentment. The entire Teitan Elementary school including Shinichi seemed to call out her unreasonable behavior and harassment towards Ranran, painting her in an unflattering light.

Waking up from the hypnosis and recalling those memories in her bedroom, Sonoko could do nothing but weep.