Chapter 5 Nasi Lemak Is Better Than Bitter Chocolate

Darin’s Side

I wake up.

And immediately realize—

“…Crap.”

Subuh.

Missed.

I sit up slowly.

The room is quiet.

Too quiet.

Lim is snoring like a broken engine.

Yafiz is curled like a disciplined soldier even in sleep.

The air feels cold.

I glance outside.

Fog.

Thick.

The whole courtyard between 2B and 2A looks like a horror movie set.

“…Kinda creepy.”

I check my phone.

6:30 AM.

Early.

But not early enough.

I rub my face and climb toward the window instead of using the door like a normal human being.

Fresh air hits my face.

Cold.

Sharp.

I inhale deeply.

“Haah…”

Nothing like morning air before the world starts pretending.

My phone vibrates.

Shamsul.

“Bro… you wanna go breakfast?”

“I’m broke. I ain’t finding food for a while.”

There’s a pause.

“Huh?! Then how the hell you reach here?”

“I had someone from the government send me… sort of.”

“…You mysterious bro.”

“Not mysterious. Just broke.”

He laughs.

“Come la. Let’s go.”

We step outside.

And I freeze.

“…Yo.”

“What?” Shamsul asks.

“Is this Valentine’s Day?”

Couples.

Everywhere.

Holding hands.

Leaning on each other.

Hugging like they’re allergic to personal space.

Walking slowly like the world revolves around them.

“Bro this place is kryptonite for singles,” I mutter.

Shamsul nods with pain in his eyes.

“Yeah. Normal day here.”

I squint.

“Normal?”

A couple walks past us.

The guy feeds the girl something with a fork.

I physically turn away.

“Disgusting.”

Suddenly—

“Mashallah… haram.”

Yafiz appears behind me like a moral ninja.

“You okay bro?” I ask him.

He stares at a couple intensely.

“…Astaghfirullah.”

“Where you heading?” he asks.

“Shamsul said breakfast somewhere.”

Yafiz sighs dramatically.

“The canteen is full of couples. Even the seniors from last night.”

I blink.

“The ones I scared?”

“…Yes. And they’re holding hands.”

“…Traitors.”

“Only Allah is constant,” Yafiz mutters.

I snort.

“So where’s this breakfast?”

Shamsul grins.

“Here.”

Not a grand cafeteria.

Not a modern cafe.

Just a small wooden shack under a zinc roof.

Smoke rises.

An old man stands behind a big pan.

The smell hits me.

Coconut rice.

Sambal.

Fried anchovies.

Egg.

It smells like… home.

“Haah!! Nasi lemak nak ke, Sham?” the old man calls out.

“Duit takda la pakcik,” Shamsul scratches his head.

“Berapa tu pakcik?” Yafiz asks.

The old man waves his hand.

“Seringgit ja untuk kamu. Meh mari duduk, saya sediakan.”

One ringgit.

I look at Shamsul.

“He basically adopted us just now.”

Shamsul grins.

“Told you. It’s not much, but it’s the best here.”

We sit on small plastic chairs.

An old lady appears with a kettle.

She pours black tea into glass cups.

“Terima kasih,” I say automatically.

She squints at me.

“Orang puteh rupanya. Kena la cakap Melayu dik.”

I blink.

“…Baik la. Terima kasih, makcik.”

She smiles.

“Haah, baru betul.”

The old man places the plate in front of me.

Simple.

Rice shaped neatly.

Red sambal on the side.

Half boiled egg.

Peanuts.

Anchovies.

Steam rising.

I stare at it.

Yesterday—

I’m climbing rooftops.

Scaring seniors half to death.

Talking nonsense with my siblings like nothing in life matters.

Today—

I’m sitting on a plastic chair beside a roadside shack.

Steam rising from a banana-leaf-wrapped plate.

Life is funny like that.

I take a bite.

Spicy.

Sweet.

Savory.

Warm.

It spreads through my chest like something unlocking.

“…Damn.”

“Good right?” Shamsul grins proudly.

I nod slowly.

This isn’t just food.

This is survival.

Across the road—

Movement.

Laughter.

Sports attire.

A group of girls jogging lightly.

One of them—

Dark skin glowing under the pale morning sun.

Not dull.

Not hidden.

Glowing.

Her hair tied back in a high ponytail.

Neck straight.

Posture strong.

Not trying to impress anyone.

Just naturally… composed.

She laughs.

Not the fake giggle type.

A real one.

It hits clean.

I freeze mid-chew.

“…Where have I seen her?”

Registration day?

Hallway?

Across the building?

Or—

Wait.

Last night.

Window.

Silhouette.

The memory flickers but doesn’t fully form.

She turns slightly.

My chest tightens for absolutely no logical reason.

I immediately look back down at my nasi lemak like I just committed a crime.

Shamsul nudges me.

“You staring at something?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

I take another bite aggressively.

“Nothing like nasi lemak. Nothing wrong with this.”

Shamsul squints.

“Damn man… you eat like you haven’t eaten for days.”

“…Mind your business.”

Yafiz nods slowly like a wise monk.

“…He’s coping.”

“Coping what?”

“You know.”

I point my spoon at him.

“Finish your tea.”

Then—

Footsteps.

Closer.

Laughter.

Approaching.

I don’t look up.

I refuse.

But the air changes.

You know that feeling?

When someone enters your proximity and your body registers it before your brain does?

Yeah.

That.

Dina’s Side

Early morning.

The fog still clings to the ground like it doesn’t want to leave.

“Jog?” Lisa beams, already bouncing.

Eza stretches lazily.

Kyra folds her arms.

“Let’s go before it gets crowded.”

“Okay…” I nod.

We head out.

Stretching under the pale sky.

The air is crisp.

I inhale deeply.

Something bothers me though.

“Why are people dating… in the morning?” I ask.

Eza nods seriously.

“Right? Like… go brush your teeth first at least.”

Lisa clasps her hands dramatically.

“Ooo… morning romance! So pure~ so cinematic~”

Kyra shrugs.

“This is normal here.”

“…Is it?” I mutter.

Because it feels strange.

Too performative.

Too sweet.

Like bitter chocolate pretending to be romantic.

We start jogging uphill.

The campus hill isn’t gentle.

It rises steep and unforgiving.

Lisa starts dramatic breathing five minutes in.

“WHY IS THIS HILL EXISTING?!”

“Because gravity,” Eza answers calmly.

We reach the top.

Wind hits us.

Below—

The entire campus spreads out like a miniature city.

Mist floating between buildings.

The boys’ dorm visible across.

Something flickers in my mind.

Last night.

Voices.

Someone shouting.

Someone—

No.

I shake it off.

We start jogging down the winding road.

Long.

Quiet.

No couples.

No noise.

Just trees and morning wind.

It feels better.

Real.

Jogging like this…

It reminds me of home.

Backyard.

Paddy field stretching endlessly behind our house.

Mimi and I used to race along the narrow mud path every morning.

Golden sunrise.

Wet soil smell.

Dew on our shoe.

I swallow slightly.

I haven’t jogged with her since I came here.

“Hey, let’s rest here,” Kyra says.

Lisa and Eza collapse dramatically onto the grass.

“Dinaaaa… I know you have that kind of body but don’t put salt in our wounds,” Eza groans.

“What? Come on…” I laugh.

“I’m dying,” Lisa gasps. “If I pass out, tell my future husband I tried.”

“You don’t even have one,” Eza says flatly.

We start walking back down.

Kyra suddenly points.

“Hey, let’s hang around there. That pakcik sells really nice hot nasi lemak.”

“Finally food!!” Eza instantly resurrects.

“Nasi lemak!!!” Lisa cheers like a child.

We approach the small wooden stall.

Smoke rising.

The smell hits again.

Warm.

Comforting.

Kyra waves.

“Sham!!”

One guy waves back casually.

But there are two more with him.

One looks normal.

The other one—

…

Yeah.

I know him.

😠

The one that cut the queue yesterday.

My eyebrows twitch automatically.

I glare.

And I don’t realize—

I’ve walked too close.

“Uh… is there a problem there… junior?” Shamsul asks carefully.

“Uh… sorry…” I say.

But I’m not apologizing to him.

I’m glaring at the messy-haired boy.

He’s eating like the world is ending.

Scruffy hair.

Serious face.

No shame.

He eats like my dad when he comes home from a long day at the field.

That memory hits me unexpectedly.

And I hate that comparison.

Disgusting.

Why am I even thinking that?

We sit.

“Nasi lemak, teh tarik pakcik!!” Kyra orders loudly.

“Sama!!” Eza.

“Same please!!” Lisa.

“…Teh tarik ja…” I say.

“Okay,” the old man nods.

Kyra stands and chats with Shamsul.

We talk among ourselves.

“Orientation later,” Eza sighs.

“Yeah I know…”

“I’m bored already,” Lisa complains dramatically.

I glance sideways.

He’s still eating.

Still.

Eating.

Does he not breathe?

Then—

“Oi Darin! Are you eating or melantak?!” one of his friends shouts.

So.

Darin.

“Breakfast is important. I won’t have lunch and dinner, you know,” he replies calmly.

“I don’t think your stomach can hold that long! If you use the toilet later, FLUSH IT!”

“Fine.”

Ew.

Why are boys like this.

Our food arrives.

Four plates.

Four?

“Uh pakcik, saya tak order la…”

“Makan dik… nampak adik kurus macam tak makan langsung.”

I blink.

I look skinny?

I reluctantly take the plate.

I eat slowly.

But—

It’s good.

Really good.

“Wow!!! It’s sooo good!!!” Eza almost cries.

Lisa literally tears up.

“Eemmmmm…”

“…Yeah. It’s really good,” I admit quietly.

“See pakcik, dorang suka la!” Kyra laughs.

“Makan la!!” the old man beams proudly.

Then—

“Oi Darin!! Tak habis habis lagi?! Enough bro!” his friend shouts again.

“…Damn man. This is even better than what I ate before reaching here,” Darin mutters.

“What do you mean? Back up. What the hell is going on?” Yafiz asks.

“Yeah, how did you even reach here?” Shamsul adds.

Darin shrugs casually.

“Well… from KLIA I landed. A government staff my mom arranged picked me up. I slept in the car. Then suddenly I reached here.”

Silence.

Even I pause chewing.

Government staff?

What?

Kyra nudges me.

“Hey eat la… you’ve been gazing at the boy. Might as well talk to him.”

“Huh?! No!!”

Lisa and Eza exchange evil smirks.

“Hey!!”

Before I can defend myself—

Darin suddenly stands.

He walks toward the old man.

Then—

He bows.

Deep.

So deep he almost kneels.

“Sorry pakcik! Makan pakcik sedap tapi saya tak ada duit sekarang ni. Boleh tak saya tolong pakcik kat dapur ni? Insyallah saya bayar. Sekarang saya bagi RM2 dulu.”

The old man blinks.

“Aik… engkau nak cari kerja ke?”

“Ya!! Ada tak?!”

Kyra whispers.

“Wow… already looking for a job.”

“Must be desperate,” Eza mutters.

“Ooo maybe I can pay for him,” Lisa says dramatically.

“Keep your money,” Kyra replies.

“Sebelum ni kerja apa dik?” the old man asks.

“Construction… jaga tadika… angkat barang…”

“Construction? Boleh bawa jentera ke?”

“…Bull dozer, light crane, forklift boleh pakcik.”

“Ada lesen?”

“…Tak ada la pakcik.”

The old man scratches his head.

The old lady steps in.

“Baik dia tolong kita kat kedai ni.”

“BOLEH!!! Saya boleh cuci pinggan!” Darin says instantly.

“Bro we have class,” Yafiz reminds.

“At least I get paid,” Darin shrugs.

“Talk about commitment…” Shamsul mutters.

The old man points.

“Kalau macam tu… tolong angkat barang tu. Penginap apartment selalu buang sampah merata.”

Before anyone can react—

Darin moves.

Fast.

He grabs—

A broken fridge.

And lifts it.

Like it’s a plastic box.

My brain stops functioning.

🤯

Lisa: 😳
Eza: 🤯
Kyra: 😲
Shamsul: 🤯
Yafiz: 😅

The old man’s mouth hangs open.

“Kat mana nak buang pakcik?!” Darin asks casually, holding the fridge on his shoulder.

“Haah sana tong sampah besar tu… hati-hati berat tu!”

But he’s already walking.

Not struggling.

Not shaking.

Just—

Carrying it like nothing.

Wind blows.

Sunlight hits him from behind.

For a second—

He looks unreal.

Like one of those overpowered anime transfer students.

He dumps the fridge into the bin with a loud metal crash.

Dust flies.

He dusts his hands.

Returns.

The old lady whispers loudly,

“Boleh tahan adik ni… macam Superman.”

Darin scratches his head.

“Ha… biasa la makcik. Construction lagi berat. Angkat beg simen lagi sakit.”

He smiles slightly.

And for some reason—

My chest feels… strange.

Not impressed.

Not interested.

Just—

Aware.

Very aware.

Kyra leans toward me.

“Still not staring?”

“…Shut up.”

Darin doesn’t stop.

After dumping the fridge like it weighs nothing, he doesn’t wait for instructions.

He just moves.

He grabs the broom.

Starts sweeping.

Not casually.

Not lazily.

Methodically.

Like he’s on a mission.

Dust flies.

Trash bags get tied neatly.

Boxes stacked perfectly aligned.

Even the back of the shack — the messy corner filled with old cartons and leaves — gets cleared.

In under five minutes.

Spotless.

All of us just stare.

😳🤭😑😬😯

Even Kyra’s expression shifts from amused to impressed.

The old man blinks twice.

“Dik… tak pe la. Nanti kalau ada duit bayar la ok dik…”

Darin immediately takes out two crumpled ringgit notes.

“Terima kasih pakcik. Tapi ambil RM2 dulu. Letak kat buku 555.”

He places it gently on the counter.

The old man stares at him for a second longer than usual.

“…Baik dik.”

The old lady hands him a glass.

“Ni adik minum air ni.”

He drinks it in one go.

“Terima kasih makcik.”

Then he walks back toward the table.

Calm.

Like lifting refrigerators is a daily warm-up exercise.

Shamsul and Yafiz just stare at him.

😑😐

Shamsul rubs his chin.

“Okay… let me check this back.”

Darin sits down.

“What?”

“You said government staff sent you here.”

“Yeah.”

Shamsul leans closer.

“…Because yesterday, some couples were gossiping.”

Darin raises one eyebrow.

“About?”

Yafiz lowers his voice dramatically.

“They saw a suspicious car.”

Pause.

“They said the car stopped near that tree over there.”

He points.

Right near the edge of the road.

Darin follows his finger casually.

“And?”

“They looked left and right… like checking if anyone was watching.”

Darin chews slowly.

“…Continue.”

“Then they pulled something out of the back.”

Shamsul swallows.

“Something wrapped in cloth.”

Silence.

The air suddenly feels heavier.

Eza and I glance at each other.

Lisa leans closer unconsciously.

“They laid it near the tree,” Yafiz says quietly.

“And?”

“And when the couples checked again later…”

He looks at Darin directly.

“…It was you. With your bag.”

Silence.

Even the wind pauses dramatically.

Darin blinks.

“…So what happened?”

Lisa suddenly gasps.

“Oh my gosh.”

Before anyone can react—

She throws herself forward and hugs him dramatically.

“Awwww!!! I feel sooo bad for you!!!”

Darin’s face disappears into Lisa’s shoulder as she squeezes him like a concerned golden retriever.

He makes a muffled noise.

“Mmff—”

Yafiz jumps up like he stepped on fire.

“HEY! HARAM!”

Shamsul mutters under his breath.

“That lucky junior… I also in a predicament…”

😓

Lisa squeezes harder.

“You poor mysterious government-delivered boy~!”

Darin tries to speak but it comes out as:

“MMMM—!—”

Yafiz immediately grabs Lisa by the shoulders and pulls her back.

“HARAM!!!”

Lisa stumbles.

“I was comforting him!”

“You were suffocating him!”

Dina’s Side

Currently — in my view…

Time slows down.

Even Kyra.

Even Eza.

Even Shamsul.

We all start imagining the same thing.

Because what we’re seeing right now—

Is not normal.

Lisa is still hugging Darin.

Full force.

Like a koala that has found its favorite tree.

Darin’s face is completely buried.

Yafiz is circling them like a referee having a moral crisis.

“HARAM! HARAM! RELEASE HIM! HARAM!”

Shamsul folds his arms like a commentator.

“Ladies and gentlemen… unexpected match this morning…”

And suddenly—

My brain switches to anime mode.

IMAGINATION MODE

Spotlight.

Crowd cheering.

A wrestling ring appears out of nowhere.

🎺 Dramatic announcer voice

“WELCOME TO THE FIRST ANNUAL NASI LEMAK CHAMPIONSHIP!”

In one corner—

“THE CHEERFUL CRUSHER—LISAAAAAA!”

Lisa raises her arm, sparkling aura behind her.

In the other corner—

“THE MYSTERIOUS TRANSFER STUDENT—DAAAARIIIIN!”

Darin looks confused.

Bell rings.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

Lisa tackles.

Darin disappears under impact.

Dust cloud everywhere.

Yafiz screaming from outside the ring—

“HARAM! THAT MOVE IS HARAM!”

Five seconds later—

Darin collapses dramatically.

Flat on the mat.

Leg twitching.

Bell rings again.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

“WINNER BY TOTAL DOMINATION—LISAAAAAA!”

Lisa jumps up and down.

“Keep it up!!! Don’t lose hope!!!”

Darin lies on the ground.

Soul leaving body.

BACK TO REALITY

“…Jeez,” I mutter.

Why is Lisa so easy to get along with everyone?

And why does she go full wrestling mode at 7AM?

Kyra nudges me.

“Can you pull her out? I don’t want to see a murder scene before orientation.”

“Why me?!” I whisper.

Eza folds her arms.

“Yeah… I’m not crazy enough to interrupt her mid-attack.”

I sigh.

Fine.

I stand up.

Walk toward them.

Lisa is still hugging.

Yafiz is still chanting “haram haram” like an alarm system.

Shamsul is fully enjoying this.

“Alright. That’s enough,” I say firmly.

Lisa immediately lets go.

“Okay!!!”

Darin drops backward dramatically—

Gasps for oxygen—

Eyes wide—

Then suddenly—

HE SHOOTS UP.

“WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT FOR—?!”

Before I can react—

He lunges forward blindly.

And—

THUD.

His forehead collides straight into my chest.

Time stops.

My brain explodes.

Me: 😳🤯💢🤬👹

He freezes.

“…Mmmmmm.”

EYA!!!!!

My entire body goes into automatic reflex.

Years of backyard wrestling with Mimi.

Years of jogging balance.

Years of self-defense drills Dad forced us to learn.

I grab him.

Twist.

Pivot.

And—

GERMAN SUPLEX.

Clean.

Precise.

Perfect arc.

He flips over my shoulder like slow motion anime physics.

SLAM.

Back hits the ground.

Dust rises.

Shamsul: 🤯
Yafiz: 😱
Eza: 🤯
Kyra: 😲
Lisa: 😳

IMAGINATION MODE AGAIN—

Bell rings.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

“NEW CHAMPION—DINAAAAAA!”

Crowd explodes.

Confetti falls.

Lisa kneels dramatically.

“I have been defeated…”

Reality.

Darin is upside down for one second before flopping flat.

The old man stands there holding a ladle.

😐

The old lady laughs loudly.

😂

“You kids are such… wonders…”

Darin groans on the ground.

“Ugh…”

His eyes spinning.

Literal cartoon stars.

😵‍💫😵

I step back.

Heart racing.

Face burning.

Why did he even lunge like that?!

“I didn’t mean—” he starts weakly.

“You didn’t think,” I snap.

Lisa suddenly points dramatically.

“ROUND THREE?!”

“NO!” everyone shouts.

Yafiz clutches his chest.

“Subhanallah… I witnessed too much today.”

Shamsul nods slowly.

“…Orientation hasn’t even started.”

Kyra looks at me sideways.

“…Strong.”

I cross my arms.

“He attacked first.”

Darin slowly sits up.

Rubs the back of his head.

Then suddenly—

“WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT FOR?!”

I blink.

“…You’re the one who lunged at me!”

He points dramatically at Lisa.

“Tell that to your friend there!”

Lisa: 😋✌🏻

I narrow my eyes.

“Not my problem. You’re the one who’s blind.”

“Oh yeah?!” he snaps back. “Guess what?! You’re the one that’s—”

He pauses dramatically.

Everyone leans in.

“—blind! Because I can’t see a thing even in bright daylight like this! I thought I hit a wall!”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Everyone’s faces freeze in different stages of shock.

🤯😳😑😅😱😨😬🤩🤦🏻🤭😂😲

My heartbeat spikes.

Wall?

Bright daylight?

Blind?

My fingers curl slightly.

I take one step forward.

“…Did you just say… I’m black?” 💢

The air temperature drops instantly.

Lisa stops smiling.

Eza stiffens.

Kyra’s eyes sharpen.

Even Shamsul straightens.

Darin blinks.

“Huh?! Did you even hear what I just said?!”

We stare at each other.

The air tightens.

“Oh yeah?!” I snap. “Aren’t you the special one? Cutting queue like that!”

He scoffs.

“Really?! Doesn’t hurt to ask, right?! And plus—”

He gestures vaguely.

“—I thought I saw was a dude!”

Silence.

Immediate.

Nuclear.

Shamsul & Yafiz: 😱😳
Kyra, Eza & Lisa: 🥶🤦🏻😳

My eye twitches.

“…Wait.”

I step forward slowly.

“First I’m a wall.”

Another step.

“Then I’m black.”

Another step.

“And now…”

I clench my fist.

“…you call me a dude?” 💢

Darin realizes too late what just came out of his mouth.

“I meant from the back! The hoodie! The way you were standing—”

“Whatever!” he snaps, clearly flustered, turning away. “This is stupid.”

He starts walking off.

Something inside me snaps.

Not rage.

Not humiliation.

Just—

Principle.

I grab his shoulder.

He turns sharply.

“What now?!”

Instant reflex.

I lean forward—

And—

HEADBUTT.

Solid.

Direct.

Clean impact.

THUD.

“BECAUSE I AM A GIRL, YOU IMBECILE!!!” 😭😖👹

The sound echoes like a taiko drum in an anime battle scene.

Shamsul & Yafiz: 😱🤯
Eza, Lisa & Kyra: 😱🤯

Darin freezes.

Eyes unfocused.

Then slowly…

He tips backward.

Falls flat.

Dust rises dramatically.

I swear I can see cartoon stars circling his head.

😵‍💫😵

The wind blows dramatically across the stall.

My forehead throbs.

“Ouch…” I whisper under my breath.

Why did I do that so hard?!

Lisa suddenly claps loudly.

“FRIENDSHIP SEALED THROUGH VIOLENCE!”

“THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS!” I shout instantly.

Yafiz points at Darin’s body.

“Bro is not moving!”

Shamsul kneels beside him.

“…He’s breathing. But I think he saw his ancestors just now.”

Kyra pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Orientation hasn’t even started.”

The old man shakes his head slowly.

“If you all fight like this, later no nasi lemak left.”

Immediate silence.

All of us straighten like disciplined soldiers.

“…Sorry pakcik.”

Except Darin.

Who is still unconscious.

Flat.

Lifeless.

Spirit temporarily offline.

Yafiz crouches beside him and lifts his head.

“Bro… how many fingers…?”

He holds up three.

Darin squints at the sky.

“…Six… black… bitches…”

Everyone freezes.

Yafiz’s eye twitches.

“Close enough. And watch your language.”

“Ugh…” Darin groans, eyes spinning. 😵‍💫

Shamsul leans toward Kyra.

“Looks like they had enough exercise in the morning.”

Kyra giggles.

“Hehehe… more like exploded.”

Lisa suddenly jumps with full enthusiasm.

“YAY!!!! WE SHOULD DO THIS EVERY MORNING!!!!”

Everyone: “NO!!!”

“Aww…” she pouts dramatically.

I look at Darin.

Even disoriented…

He’s glaring at me.

Why is he still competitive while half-dead?

“Hey… Yafiz… when is school… starts…?” Darin mutters weakly.

“Bro… this is college.”

“…Same thing…”

Shamsul and Yafiz haul him up.

“Well that’s our cue. See ya, Kyra.”

They start dragging him toward the dorm.

The old man chuckles.

“Well nothing like good friendship… at least better than couples roaming here…”

The old lady giggles.

“Yes… never had entertainment like that.”

Kyra bows slightly.

“Sorry for the mess, makcik.”

We help clean up.

Chairs upright.

Dust swept.

Battlefield restored.

“You all welcome here okay…” the old man smiles.

“Bye!!” we wave.

We start walking back toward our dorm.

Morning light brighter now.

Fog gone.

Peace restored.

Or so I thought.

Up ahead—

Shamsul and Yafiz are still supporting Darin.

But something’s wrong.

His posture changes.

He stiffens.

“Bro… I told you, you eat too much!!!” Yafiz scolds.

“Ugh…” 🤢

His face turns pale.

Really pale.

Oh no.

He suddenly jerks away from them.

Stumbles forward.

And—

Turns.

Toward us.

Toward—

Me.

Why me.

Why always me.

His eyes lock onto mine.

But not angry.

Not dramatic.

Just—

Desperate.

“Bro wait—!” Shamsul shouts.

Too late.

Darin steps forward.

His body betrays him.

And—

🤮

It happens.

Directly.

On me.

Silence.

Utter.

Silence.

Eza, Lisa, Kyra: 😱😱😱

My brain stops functioning.

Warm.

Wet.

Disaster.

The universe has ended.

💢💢💢💢💢💢💢

“FIND A TOILET!!!!!” I scream.

Darin blinks weakly.

“…ugh…”

Without thinking—

My slap connects with his head.

Not superhuman.

Not wrestling.

Just pure reflex.

THUD.

He drops.

Out cold.

Again.

Shamsul and Yafiz stare in horror.

“BROOOO!!!”

Lisa grabs my shoulders.

“Dina! Dina! He’s already dying!”

Eza pulls my arm.

“Calm down! Calm down!”

Kyra just stands there.

Eyes wide.

“…This is escalating fast.”

Darin lies flat on the ground.

Unconscious.

Again.

Steam practically rising from my head.

I look down at my ruined sports outfit.

I look at the sky.

Why.

Why is this my life.

Yafiz panics.

“Bro wake up! We haven’t even registered subjects yet!”

Shamsul shakes him lightly.

“Darin! You can’t die like this! Not because of nasi lemak!”

I breathe heavily.

Trying not to commit actual murder.

Then—

Darin groans weakly.

I turn away dramatically.

“I’m going back to shower.”

Lisa whispers excitedly.

“This is fate.”

“This is biological warfare,” Eza corrects.

Kyra sighs.

“Orientation is going to be interesting.”

Behind us—

Shamsul and Yafiz struggle to lift Darin again.

“Bro you owe her a new outfit!”

“…ugh…” Darin mumbles weakly.

I don’t turn around.

But I hear it.

And somehow—

Even through humiliation…

Even through rage…

There’s something absurdly funny about it.

This is not romance.

This is not smooth.

This is war.

And somehow…

I have a feeling this isn’t the last time he collapses in front of me.

We haven’t started class or even orientation…!!

To be continued