Arc 1: Everyday Life
Chapter 1 First Day
The alarm went off at six in the morning. Raka opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. Monday. The first day of a new school year.
He sat up on his bed and looked around his bedroom. The curtain was still closed, but thin lines of light came through from outside. He counted them. One, two, three, four, five. He did not know why he counted. It was just something he did every morning.
He pulled the blanket off and stood up. The floor was cold under his feet. He walked to the window and opened the curtain. The sky outside was bright blue, with only a few white clouds near the horizon. The sun was already up, painting the rooftops orange and yellow.
"Good morning," he said to no one.
Downstairs, his mother was in the kitchen. The smell of rice and something warm came up through the stairs. Raka grabbed his glasses from the desk, put them on, and went down.
"You are awake," his mother said without turning around. She was standing near the stove, stirring something in a pot.
"Yes," Raka said. He sat at the dining table and looked at the clock on the wall. Six fifteen.
"Breakfast will be ready in five minutes," she said.
Raka nodded. He looked at the table. A green cup. A white plate. A yellow napkin folded into a triangle. His mother always folded the napkin that way. He did not know why, but he liked it.
His younger sister came running down the stairs. Her name was Sari, and she was in her second year of junior high school. Her hair was a little messy and her uniform was not fully buttoned yet.
"Good morning," she said loudly.
"Good morning," their mother said. "Sit down. Breakfast is almost ready."
Sari sat across from Raka and looked at him. "You look tired," she said.
"I slept late," Raka said.
"Why?"
"I was thinking."
Sari tilted her head. "About what?"
Raka shrugged. "School. New class. New teacher. I do not know what to expect."
Their mother put two bowls of warm soup on the table, then a plate of rice and a small dish of fried egg. She sat down with them.
"Eat first," she said. "Think later."
Raka smiled a little. He picked up his spoon and started to eat. The soup was hot and a little salty, but it was good. He could taste garlic and onion in it. His mother always put garlic in everything.
"How many students are in your new class?" Sari asked.
"Thirty," Raka said. "I think. Maybe thirty two."
"Do you know anyone?"
"A few. Dito is in the same class. And maybe Lena, I am not sure."
Sari nodded and drank her milk. Outside, a bird was singing somewhere near the garden. The morning felt quiet and slow, which Raka liked. Once he stepped outside that door, everything would become fast and loud. But for now, it was just the three of them, a warm breakfast, and the sound of a bird he could not see.
After breakfast, Raka went back upstairs to get his bag. He checked everything. Notebook. Pen. Pencil. Eraser. Ruler. Calculator. Dictionary. He put them in one by one, counting quietly. Seven things. All there.
He looked at himself in the mirror. White shirt. Dark pants. Black shoes. He looked like every other student. That was fine. He did not want to stand out. Not on the first day.
He came back downstairs. His mother was washing the dishes at the sink. Sari was already near the door, bag on her back, shoes on, waiting.
"Ready?" Sari asked.
"Ready," Raka said.
Their mother turned and looked at them. Her eyes were warm and a little tired, the way they always were in the morning. "Be good," she said. "Be careful."
"We will," they both said.
She smiled. Raka noticed the small lines near her eyes when she smiled. He thought she looked kind. She was kind. She was also patient, which Raka was grateful for, because he was not always easy to live with.
He opened the front door. The air outside was warm and fresh. A cat was sitting on the garden wall, its brown fur bright in the morning sun. It looked at Raka for a second, then looked away, unbothered.
Raka stepped outside. Behind him, the door closed softly.
The first day had started.