That night, the clock showed 7:19 PM. The Jogja sky was letting fall a light rain, its droplets dancing slowly atop the roof tiles, dripping onto leaves already wet with dew, and forming faint patterns on the quiet streets. A cold wind descended from the mountains, slipping through window cracks and roof gaps, brushing over puddles on the roads, stirring tiny ripples that reflected the light like thousands of glittering shards of glass.
The streets were empty, almost silent, as if the city were holding its breath, letting the sound of rain on the roof, window glass, and leaves become a soft symphony of the universe. Streetlights reflected in puddles, creating layered dances of light, warm to the eyes but cold in the air. Each glimmer seemed like a candle flickering in a poet's hand, while the thin rain mist mingled with the night fog, giving the world a soft, almost unreal impression.
The wind added rhythm to the night, gliding through empty alleys, combing every corner of the city, carrying the scent of wet earth and rain-soaked leaves. There was a heavy yet calming silence, as if the city were contemplating alone, reordering its heartbeat, while the rain continued to write stories upon the wet streets.
Through it all, the light, the raindrops, and the gusts of wind merged into one, creating an atmosphere not only beautiful but mysterious—gentle yet penetrating, calm yet calling anyone who looked to be absorbed in it. Every drop of rain, every whisper of the wind seemed to add another layer to a story that would never end, giving the night its own life, silent but full of meaning, letting anyone who gazed feel that for a moment, the world paused, leaving only night, rain, and light dancing in the puddles.
But not Arya's dorm room. The air inside felt warm and slightly cramped, mingled with the scent of books, the soft hum of a desk fan, and the sound of raindrops tapping the window. The dim desk lamp cast shadows that danced across the walls, adding a small but lively tone to the ongoing conflict.
"You always do that! Can you stop doing weird things?" Rika shouted, her voice piercing the room, her chest rising and falling with the emotional cadence, eyes fixed on Arya with a mix of irritation and impatience.
"Don't be loud, Rika. I'm meditating," Arya replied casually, still seated cross-legged on his bed. His posture was straight but calm, as if the world could be noisy around him, yet he remained undisturbed. His eyes half-closed, breathing steady, yet the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, hinting that he noticed Rika's antics but chose silence.
"I'm getting bored watching you sit there like a statue! I need someone to talk to, you knooow!" Rika shrieked again, pacing back and forth across the wooden floor, her long hair swinging slightly with each movement.
"Hmm…" Arya responded plainly, his voice flat and brief. A thin smile appeared at the corner of his lips, as if he secretly enjoyed this small performance despite unwillingness to admit it.
"I'm going to scold Dio tomorrow for teaching you weird things like that!" Rika added, frustration in her tone, shoulders slightly raised to emphasize the seriousness of her threat.
"Do you dare?" Arya said flatly, showing not a hint of doubt, his voice light but cutting through the room's silence, making Rika pause briefly.
"Of course I dare," Rika replied in a feigned brave tone, but her body tensed slightly, fingers clenching for a moment as Dio's angry shadow danced in her mind. Her lips curved in a thin smile, but her eyes revealed a trace of uncertainty—a comical mix of fabricated bravery and lingering fear.
Suddenly, a knock sounded at Arya's door, light yet sharp enough to cut through the room's quiet, previously filled only by the fan's hum and rain against the window. Instantly, Arya and Rika turned toward the door. Rika's face displayed a mix of curiosity and caution; her eyes flicked quickly to Arya, signaling silently, "Open… but carefully."
Arya took a slow breath, straightened from his cross-legged position, and approached the door with calm yet alert steps. Every movement felt deliberate, aware that the knock was no ordinary sound. "Who's there?" His voice was flat, yet it lingered in the air, generating a tense silence around the room.
No answer. Only the rain continued to fall against the window, and the wind howled through building gaps. The silence felt eerie, as if the world outside the door were holding its breath, waiting for Arya's response.
Arya pressed the door handle slowly. A click sounded, and he pulled it open cautiously, his eyes adjusting to the dim hallway light. In the doorway stood a figure he had not expected—a woman with flaming red hair, her dress matching her hair, standing still, calm, yet radiating an imposing aura.
Silence enveloped the room instantly. The wind entering from the doorway rustled her dress slightly, her red hair resembling glowing embers moving slowly, capturing Arya's gaze and consciousness. There was something about her, something beyond words—calm yet threatening, beautiful yet freezing, making the air in the room feel thick and heavy.
Rika held her breath, eyes widening, her body inching forward unconsciously, drawn to the figure before them. A subtle shiver ran down Arya's spine, cold and piercing, as if a breeze from another world entered with her presence. The world outside the room seemed to vanish; only the door, the red figure, and the oppressive silence remained.
"Mother Naginiii…" Rika exclaimed, her voice cheerful, full of warmth and excitement that filled the formerly quiet dorm room. Her smile widened, eyes sparkling like streetlights reflecting in rain puddles outside. Her small hands reached enthusiastically for Nagini's arm, pulling her inside. Her movements were agile and spontaneous, like a child proudly introducing a friend to someone they admire.
Arya remained frozen at the doorway, watching Nagini's every movement, trying to gauge her demeanor while scanning the room for Dio, who he thought might be present. But there was no one. Arya exhaled slowly, eyes shifting left and right, then gently closed the door, the hinge marking the end of the tense silence in the hallway.
Nagini smiled warmly at them both, her eyes radiating calm and comfort. Her gentle aura filled the room, soothing yet commanding subtle respect, like sunlight filtering through window cracks.
"Did I come at a bad time?" Nagini asked, her voice soft yet attentive, cutting through the room's quiet.
"Mmm? Why do you ask that?" Rika replied, tilting her head curiously, sitting casually on the bed. Her posture was relaxed, hand propping her chin, eyes fixed on Nagini as if awaiting further explanation.
"I think I heard a small argument from outside," Nagini said, smiling teasingly, her warm voice carrying a hint of gentle reproach that made Rika's cheeks flush. The girl bowed her head slightly, lips smiling shyly, her hands fidgeting as if containing excitement and embarrassment at the same time.
"Rika, you should have invited the guest to sit first," Arya said calmly but firmly. He slid a desk chair closer to Nagini, his movements careful and deliberate, keeping the atmosphere polite yet comfortable for everyone.
"Ah, yes, I forgot. Please sit, Mother Nagini," Rika said, sitting back casually, waving her small hand to gesture Nagini to take the available seat. Her movements were simple yet warm and respectful, maintaining her cheerful, spontaneous nature.
Nagini observed, smiled slightly, covering her mouth with her gown's collar. Her soft eyes lingered on Rika, as if understanding all the joy and respect mingled in the girl's behavior. The room felt warm and peaceful, yet a glimmer of mystery lingered in Nagini's gaze, inspiring awe and a slight tension for those present.
"Sorry if my visit disturbed you," Nagini said gently, her voice soothing yet carrying an undeniable presence. Every word felt like the soft night wind, yet underlying firmness lingered, making Arya's dorm feel momentarily hushed.
"No, Mother Nagi, I'm glad you came because there's a very annoying human statue here who's hard to talk to," Rika replied cheerfully, shooting a sly glance at Arya standing by the bed.
Nagini merely smiled, her eyes warmly observing the two of them. A soft glow lingered in her gaze, watching the sincere closeness between Arya and Rika.
"I came only to check on something, perhaps private, and it may bother you, so please answer honestly…" Nagini said gently but firmly, her tone balancing care and caution.
Instantly, Arya felt a chill, like ice crawling from his fingertips into his bones. His breath caught, eyes fixed, mind flooded with questions. What did Nagini mean? Why was she here? Was it a warning, or would her question guide him? For a moment, Arya's world felt heavy, as if every particle of air carried invisible tension.
Rika, hearing Nagini's words, instantly changed. Her face radiated uncontainable joy, body bouncing slightly as if seeing something adorable. Her eyes sparkled, lips forming a wide grin, her lively energy filling every corner of the room.
"W-what's wrong with you?" Arya asked, confused and slightly annoyed, staring at Rika's unusually expressive reaction.
"Mother Nagi is so beautiful… I want to be that elegant," Rika said, smiling at herself, admiring Nagini sincerely. Her voice and movements conveyed genuine admiration yet remained playful, like reflections of streetlight in puddles.
"What have you been thinking all this time? This is serious, you know…" Arya said, slightly annoyed, pressing his hands on Rika's head firmly. Rika resisted with her own hands, face flushed, expression half-annoyed, half-amused.
"Ouch… only my mother can touch my head," Rika retorted, trying to free herself, arching slightly but still smiling sweetly.
"Then I'll be the bad father," Arya said boldly, eyes wide, but with a faint smile at the corner of his lips, confirming their playful game.
Nagini's eyes widened. She lowered her face briefly, gazing at them with admiration and slight bewilderment at the humor of their interaction. The room's atmosphere shifted: tension melted, replaced by warmth and genuine friendship. Arya and Rika, sensing Nagini's gaze, stopped joking, straightened, and faced her respectfully, yet Rika's cheerful energy lingered in the air.
"Sorry, I think I forgot something. I'll take my leave," Nagini said softly, yet with a subtle firmness. She moved gracefully toward the door, each step measured, as if weighing the space around her. Though her footsteps were light, her presence lingered, like a warm shadow clinging to the walls. As Nagini disappeared from view, the air seemed to hold its breath; the room, once filled with laughter, playfulness, and warmth, returned to quiet, yet still heavy with her recent presence.
Rika and Arya exchanged glances, their faces showing a mix of confusion and embarrassment. Silently, they adjusted their positions and posture, aware they had acted too freely in front of someone they respected. Rika's lively smile gradually faded, replaced by a slightly awkward expression, while Arya straightened, eyes fixed forward, restoring the respect momentarily lost.
The clock read 9:21 PM. Arya sat at his desk, staring blankly at the ceiling, eyes empty but thoughtful. The rain outside had eased, leaving only the scent of wet earth and humid air drifting through the window. The small fan on the desk hummed softly, the only sound filling the night's silence. The ticking of the clock and the fan's rhythm offered a calming tempo, giving Arya space to reflect.
"Hey Rika, tomorrow we should apologize to Nagini for being rude earlier," Arya said flatly, with a subtle undertone of regret. He still stared at the ceiling, fingers brushing over an open notebook without really reading it.
"Okay…" Rika replied, lying across Arya's bed, hugging a small pillow, still holding onto a bit of her cheerful energy, now calmer. Her eyes glanced at Arya, signaling she understood his seriousness without needing words.
"But did we really go too far? Enough to make Nagini leave so abruptly," Arya asked quietly, voice almost drowned by the fan's hum and the newly stopped rain. A trace of doubt lingered in his tone, reflecting introspection and responsibility.
"Mmm, I think Mother Nagini didn't get to ask her question because she already got her answer," Rika said with a small smile, cheeks faintly flushed. Her grin was playful, yet mysterious, adding warmth and subtle intrigue to the room's quiet.
"Answer? Do you even know what Nagini wanted to ask?" Arya asked, eyes fixed on Rika. His voice carried curiosity and slight annoyance at Rika's teasing, unpredictable nature.
"Who knows~~" Rika said, resting her head on the pillow, eyes still mischievously fixed on Arya. The room felt soft and warm, yet a hint of mystery lingered—a quiet night full of secrets, admiration, and subtle bonds between them.
The morning sun began to climb, its rays slipping through the thin gaps in Arya's curtains, painting golden streaks across the still-damp walls. The faint scent of wet earth from last night's rain drifted through the slightly open window, mingling with the aroma of instant coffee from the neighboring room. The sounds of the street slowly returned—motors revving, horns blaring, and the occasional call of a passing street vendor.
Arya's room remained half-dark, lit only by the soft light filtering through the curtains. In the corner, the small fan squeaked softly, as if protesting its endless spinning through the humid air. On the thin mattress laid on the floor, Arya remained wrapped in his gray, worn blanket, only his messy hair and part of his face peeking through his hand.
"Aryaaaa, wake up! It's morning already!" Rika's cheerful voice suddenly shattered the quiet. She hovered near the mattress, her copper hair swaying lightly, fingers mercilessly tugging at Arya's blanket.
"Yeah… in a minute," Arya mumbled lazily, his voice hoarse and half-asleep.
"It's already nine! You'll be late for class!" Rika shouted, pretending to panic as she patted Arya's cheeks.
Reflexively, Arya sat up, eyes wide, reaching for the phone beside his pillow. Seeing the time still read 7:30, his expression flattened.
"It's still half past seven," he said irritably, letting out a long sigh. "You're messing with me again, you crazy ghost."
Rika covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, eyes narrowing mischievously. "Hehehe… but see, you woke up~" she said, satisfaction glinting in her smile.
Arya just snorted and placed the phone back on the mattress. He tried to close his eyes again, but before sleep could reclaim him, Rika was tugging at his pajama hem, tickling his feet, and spinning in the air while singing off-key.
"Rika… enough!" Arya exclaimed, half laughing, half annoyed. But Rika continued her antics until he finally gave in and rose fully. Sitting at the edge of the mattress for a moment, he then stood, stretching.
The morning unfolded like most in their small dorm—noisy, simple, yet warm. After a quick shower and pulling on his signature green jacket, Arya stepped out, yawning. Rika floated ahead of him, brimming with energy as if she could see colors no one else could.
They walked toward campus, navigating the muddy alley, crossing the busy street, and passing the newly opened food stalls. The morning air still held a chill, but the sun had begun to warm their skin.
"Hey Arya… isn't that your classmate? What's her name? I forgot…" Rika asked, pointing toward a girl exiting a small eatery with a plastic bag.
Arya glanced briefly, then looked down. "I don't know," he said flatly, uninterested, walking on without starting a conversation.
Rika puffed out her cheeks in mock frustration. "Nooo! You need to know your classmates if you want to find a group!" she scolded, her voice loud enough to make a nearby parking attendant glance over.
Arya shook his head, pretending not to hear, eyes fixed ahead as Rika jabbered behind him, floating like a mischievous balloon.
For Arya, the morning felt typical—lively, slightly exhausting, yet strangely complete with Rika's constant presence. He had grown used to the small sounds she made, as if they were part of a new rhythm to his life. Yet beneath his seemingly blank expression, his mind drifted elsewhere.
Since the previous night, the image of a massive, ancient tree that had appeared in his dreams haunted him. Thick roots sprawling in every direction, the faint outline of a face among the branches, and whispers he could not understand pressed down on his chest.
As they approached the campus gate, Arya made a decision. He would ask Dio later, during lunch break. Perhaps his friend knew something about the tree or could help him understand why it kept appearing in his dreams.
Behind him, Rika continued humming softly, oblivious that this seemingly ordinary morning was quietly steering them toward something far deeper than a playful start to the day.
Inside the classroom, the air conditioner hummed faintly, contrasting with the sunlight streaming through the blinds. The professor wrote on the whiteboard, black marker tracing lines of letters and numbers across half the surface. Some students stared intently, others typed away on laptops, while a few scribbled notes, fighting drowsiness.
Amid the ordinary scene, only Arya knew there was an extra "student" in the room.
The ghost girl floated quietly, drifting from desk to desk like a curious cat. Her dark blue skirt swayed gently with each pause.
"What's that crazy ghost up to now," Arya thought, propping his chin on his hand. His gaze was empty, yet the corner of his eye followed Rika's movements.
Rika moved with purpose, occasionally peering at others' notebooks or squinting at screens as though reading secret documents. She would glance behind her before floating to another desk, as if searching for something crucial.
Sunlight streaming through the window gave life to the cool classroom. It glinted off some students' hair and the tidy white desks. Outside, the sky was a clear, cloudless blue—a morning too calm to feel productive.
To Arya, the sight was strange, yet oddly comforting. Rika was quiet, focused, and didn't drift outside the classroom as she often did. She didn't make a sound, simply gliding with a seriousness rare for her.
The lesson dragged until the lunch bell rang. Some students stood immediately, others slowly gathered their things, the shuffle of chairs forming the classroom's familiar orchestra.
Arya packed his belongings at a leisurely pace. Rika appeared beside him, hovering in a semi-reclined position, eyes fixed on the now-open window. A soft breeze stirred her hair.
They walked down the corridor toward the campus canteen, walls lined with bulletin boards cluttered with paper. The echo of footsteps mixed with the dusty, familiar campus scent.
The canteen was a little distance past a small garden and partially filled parking area. Rika jabbered all the way, while Arya listened half-heartedly.
"So the girl from earlier is Dinda, the one beside her is Anita, and the boys always with them are Fikri and Soni. Just friends, nothing more, and the interesting part… their group is missing one person," Rika recited, fingers stretching as she counted like a mischievous math teacher revealing secrets.
Arya stared straight ahead, glancing briefly at Rika. "Since when do you know all this about their relationships?" he asked flatly, suspicion in his tone.
Rika chuckled, finger to lips. "So, when are you going to volunteer to join their group?" she teased, grinning.
"I'll think about it. Not interested yet," Arya replied calmly, left hand tucked into his jacket pocket.
Rika floated closer, eyes narrowing. "Hah… running away? Just admit you're scared," she said teasingly, ending with a smile that made Arya exhale deeply.
"Not really…" Arya murmured, gaze flicking toward the sky outside the corridor window.
"You looked so brave that night," Rika whispered, referencing the recent battle with the tree spirit still fresh in their minds.
Arya's face turned red, his steps faltering. "I-I… that night, I just…" he stammered, voice shrinking as he turned away, hiding his embarrassment.
Before Rika could tease him further, a male voice rang from behind.
"What did you two get up to that night, huh?"
The tone was flat but laced with playful mischief, as though he had caught them red-handed.
Both Arya and Rika spun around reflexively.
Dio stood there, hands in his pockets, expression neutral but with a faint lift at the corner of his mouth.
They stepped back instinctively, like children caught doing something forbidden.
The corridor, once ordinary, now felt awkwardly tense. The garden breeze sounded louder, and for the next moments, only a heavy silence hung between the three—two humans and one ghost.