The Coastline Station

The morning sun hits the surface of the sea, causing the deep blue water to reflect light like flying shards of glass. A light sea breeze blows, carrying the salty scent of the sea mixed with the smell of seaweed dried by local fishermen. Seagulls fly low overhead, chirping in unison in the flawless blue sky.

On the edge of the beach stood an old station, its paint faded, its sign almost illegible, but still standing strong decades ago. On one of the wooden benches sat a man named Afka, neatly dressed in a suit and shiny black shoes. He held a cup of hot coffee in his hand, while his briefcase rested quietly at his right foot.

He opened his phone while sipping his coffee and typing a short message to his office colleague, then turned off the screen and took a slow breath. His gaze turned to the calm sea before he finally leaned his back against the wooden chair.

He had been riding the train at that station for years, from childhood until he slowly began to achieve the childhood dream he had buried deep in the past. The same view, the same atmosphere, and the same scent of the wind he had breathed in years ago. He just went through his usual routine, nothing special, nothing changed.

Until someone appeared.

With slightly hurried steps, a young woman walked from the end of the platform. She sat down right next to him without saying a word, as if the seat had always been hers.

That day, she wasn't wearing a work outfit like most of the other morning commuters. Instead, she wore a white summer dress, soft and fluttering in the sea breeze. On her head sat a wide-brimmed straw hat, casting a thin shadow over her face.

Her long black hair fell naturally. She looked like a model who had just finished a photo shoot for a weekly fashion magazine. A few strands of her hair moved in the breeze. She smoothed them with a gentle movement, then took a small mirror out of her bag and touched up her lipstick.

Only then did she turn to the man beside her, who was daydreaming, gazing at the blue ocean. The woman's eyes were fixed on him, watching him for a long time until she began to smile slightly and then gently tapped his shoulder.

“Hey... you're Afka, right?” asked the young woman.

An unexpected little attack on someone who was daydreaming startled Afka a little, and for a moment, he turned to look at the young woman, feeling as if time had stopped.

“...Yes,” he replied slowly, still staring at her, as if to make sure she was real.

“Eh... long time no see,” said the woman, pulling her hand away from Afka's shoulder.

It took a moment for the man to finally recognize her, then he frowned slightly as if to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

“...Muna?”

The woman smiled broadly and began to laugh warmly, which made the man feel nostalgic.

“Do you still remember me? I thought you had forgotten me, hahaha…” she said, laughing and feeling a little relieved, as if she was afraid he wouldn’t remember her.

Afka laughed too, but a little awkwardly.

“So, you want me to forget first to make it dramatic? Like this,”

He raised both hands, then pretended to be shocked.
“Muna?! You're still alive?!” Like that?"

Muna rolled her eyes dramatically and leaned back in the wooden chair.

“You're so mean... You still have a sharp tongue,” she said, and then they both laughed like they used to, as if years had never passed.

Suddenly, the wind blew harder, causing Muna’s straw hat to fly off and fall behind the chair. Reflexively, Afka stood up, picked up the hat, and gently placed it back on Muna’s head.

Muna looked at him for a moment. Her smile softened.

“You’re still the same as before, huh?” she said.

Afka furrowed his brow, “Huh? The same as what?”

“Sensitive and caring,” replied Muna, then smoothed and adjusted her hat again. “Thanks,” she said and smiled.

“Haha... It's nothing,” he said, trying to look cool, then sat back down in his original place.

Muna tried to hide her laughter, then asked again. “By the way, where do you work now? You look so neat.”

“The House of Representatives. I was accepted there just a month ago,” he replied.

Muna's eyes widened. “Huh? You're working with them? Don't tell me you've been stealing public money too?”

“Hey! Don't be ridiculous!” Afka protested spontaneously.

“It's not Mrs. Wati's regime anymore. She was ousted a year ago and has been replaced by Mr. Bowo.”

Muna sighed dramatically, showing that she felt relieved. “Huhh... Thank God,” she said, then pointed at Afka's chest with one finger.

“Because you used to be the most anti-them. If you suddenly changed, it would be the end of the world,” she said.

Hearing this, Afka laughed. “Relax, I'm still the same.”

They both laughed, then Muna slowly fell silent and stared straight at Afka, which confused him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Muna just stared at him for a long time, then smiled, “You've become stronger, haven't you?” she said.

At first, Afka was confused by her statement, but then he slowly began to understand. “Hmm... I'm stronger now,” he said softly.

“That's good if you've become stronger...” she replied, then raised she left pinky finger, as if asking him to make a promise.

“You promise, right? Take care of them... take care of yourself... and don't forget to visit me often, okay?”

Afka nodded and responded by raising the pinky finger of his left hand as well, revealing a ring on both of their ring fingers. “Hmm... I promise.”

Soon after, the objects around them began to shake, and the sound of a train could be heard in the distance. The train came to a stop in front of them. Instinctively, Afka turned his gaze toward the train.

“Goodbye, Afka…” Muna said softly, then began to fade away slowly, carried by the wind.

Afka turned back toward where Muna had been sitting and found that she had vanished, leaving only his hand still frozen in place.

He pulled and lowered his hand, then walked toward the open train door. He sat down in a seat that faced the vast blue ocean, holding his cell phone and reading an article that read, “Arrest of the perpetrator of the shooting at Paolin District Station” then another article that read, "The victims of the shooting were a couple of famous artists, namely Muna Ardelia (29), a rising artist, and her partner, Afka K. Adiwangsa (28). Unfortunately, the female artist could not be saved and died on the way to the hospital."

Afka was silent, staring out the window and gazing at the blue sea. Soon, he began to smile and mutter to himself.

“Thank you for being in my life and hers. If you had never come, perhaps I wouldn’t be in this position… because of you, I can stand stronger than before… so I thank you again, and rest in peace, Muna Ardelia…”