Fragment 01 : The Orange Sky

Orange City, Indonesia. 4 months ago.

The day was still early, yet the air was already thick with vehicle exhaust, and droplets of sweat began to form at the corners of Hana's eyes. Wearing her high school uniform, she tried to doze off in the half-empty Metromini bus trapped in traffic, attempting to forget the fact that she would be late on the first day of campus orientation.

With so many transportation options available in the city nowadays, there were indeed more comfortable and faster choices. However, Hana couldn't afford to spend an extra few tens of thousands of rupiah every month for convenience and punctuality. Her family, herself included, couldn't afford that luxury. In fact, Hana had initially planned not to continue her education, thinking it would be better to work distributing pamphlets on the side of the road, or become a laundrywoman, while teaching her three younger siblings how to manage the small store in front of their house. But fate had other plans. A few weeks ago, a letter arrived at her home. Not just any letter, but a full scholarship offer for a business degree at the most prestigious private university in the city, with an enrollment fee equivalent to the price of a new car.

It remained a mystery to her whether the university granted her the scholarship because her test scores were exceptional or out of pity, as part of their program to support underprivileged communities. One thing was certain, it only added to her confusion. While her education would be free, transportation costs still had to be covered, not to mention buying books or the possibility of her worn-out laptop suddenly giving up, especially since it was not just her using it but also her younger siblings, Bella and Dimas, who were now in middle school and elementary school, respectively.

Hana was reluctant to accept this offer, but seeing her father so happy, she couldn't bear it. "A business degree, it will surely be useful one day to help Dad and my siblings. I just need to work a little harder right now," Hana thought to herself.

With a newfound spark of determination, Hana quickly stood up and tapped the roof of the Metromini bus. "Stop here, driver!" she shouted.

Hana then leaped out of the still jerking bus and started running towards the gates of her new campus, which were still three kilometers away.

During the break, Hana snapped out of her thoughts. Amidst the crowd of new college students, very few wore the white-and-gray high school uniforms, the typical Indonesian public school uniform. Here, most people donned colorful uniforms, some with checkered skirts or pants, resembling outfits from classic European films. Those who still wore the white-and-gray uniforms were also clearly from the upper class, sporting branded shoes, watches, and smartphones worth several times the minimum wage.

Hana sat on an empty bench in the open courtyard in front of the cafeteria, opening her faded plastic lunchbox. The picture on top was nearly faded, having been used every school day for years since elementary school. Inside was a block of fried noodles that Hana had prepared herself early in the morning. Although it was dry and shaped to fit the lunchbox, the noodles still tasted good.

"Alone?" A girl with long straight hair unexpectedly stood beside Hana, pointing to the empty seat. Another girl carrying a tray of food stood beside her.

Hana nodded politely with a smile. The two girls took their seats, each surrounding the wooden umbrella-covered table.

"Ilhamia, just call me Mia," the first girl introduced herself while extending her hand.
"Hana," Hana softly replied.

Mia then nudged the other girl who had already started eating without care.

"Oh yeah.. sorry, my name is  Winda," the second girl said, raising one hand while smiling. She continued eating, engrossed in observing other new students passing by.

"Sorry about my friend, she's been that way since birth," Mia apologized.

"Ah, it's okay, just relax," Hana replied.

These two girls were clearly graduates of an elite private school. Their uniforms with dark blazers and pleated skirts, adorned with checkered patterns and classic rounded collars, were truly beautiful.

"Which high school are you two from?" she continued, inwardly noting that no matter what their answer would be, she would have no way of knowing.

"We're from Jasmine High School, ~Jas Mini which means 'mini tuxedo' in English," Mia tried to be funny, throwing in a dad-joke. Hana attempted to laugh, even though it was quite dry and made the atmosphere more relaxed. They began eating their respective meals while chatting.
"Our school used to be all girls. Look at Winda. She gets flustered seeing so many handsome guys around," Mia said.

"Are you calling me handsome? Nah, I'm still single," Winda replied, not catching the context.
"Come on, Winda. I was saying that our school used to be all girls, so it's not common for us to see so many guys," Mia clarified.

"Oh, yeah. You're from a co-ed school, right? You must have had many boyfriends then?" Winda chimed in this time, connecting the conversation.

Hana remained silent for a moment.

"Oh, no. I haven't had a boyfriend in school," she said.

"But you've had relationships, right?" Mia interjected.

"Um, how should I put it? I don't think it can be considered a proper relationship. I was close to a guy. That was a long time ago, back when I was in middle school," Hana reminisced.

"So, you broke up then? Oh, gossip alert... Tell us more. What's his name?" Winda suddenly became curious.

"Come on, Winda. She's the one telling the story, not gossiping about it," Mia intervened but was also eager to listen.

"It's not really important, but his name was Thomas. He was a train engineer," Hana answered, getting the idea from the faded picture of cartoon characters on her lunchbox lid.

"Wow, seriously?" Winda's eyes widened.

"Hahaha, no way. I was just kidding. Do you think I would date an older man when I was still in middle school?" Hana laughed.

Hana remained silent for a moment.

"He was just slightly older than me, we were neighbors back then. I don't know if you can call it dating or not. We were close, but there was no formal confession or anything like that, so we didn't break up either. In the end, I moved, and he moved too. That's it," Hana explained.

"Wow, that's not exciting," Mia grumbled this time.

"That can't be considered dating. It's the same as us then. We missed out on so much by going to a co-ed school," Mia added.

"Hahahahaha," Hana burst out laughing.

Perhaps studying here could bring me some joy after all, Hana thought. She had made two new friends this morning.

***

The sun blazed relentlessly in Orange City. Hana's school uniform clung to her skin, already wrinkled. She navigated through the densely populated streets, making her way home.

After the orientation in the field and the morning break, the new students were divided into several large groups and toured the campus buildings before culminating the day with a closing ceremony. Plus the three-kilometer run earlier in the morning, the packet of instant noodles she had for breakfast seemed to have evaporated from her stomach.

Hana suddenly felt anxious. She hadn't had time to cook this morning. Had her father and siblings already had lunch? What did they eat?

Hana quickened her pace, but before reaching her house, someone called out to her.
"Han!" It was Mrs. Ipeh, their neighbor and a regular customer at their family's stall.
"Oh, Mrs. Ipeh. What's up?"

"There was a visitor just now, looking for your father. But your father already went to the food stall with your siblings. Hasn't come back yet. Go and see him, poor guy's been waiting."
"Who is him, Mrs. Ipeh?" Hana grew suspicious. Not many people visited their house.

"I don't know. But I've seen him before. He came to your house once too," Mrs. Ipeh replied.
"Alright, Mrs. Ipeh. Thank you," Hana said, hurrying home.

As she approached her house, Hana noticed a figure sitting on the front porch. Wooden planks were neatly arranged on the front of her house that is transformed into a small frugal stall, indicating that it was closed. A sign that her family wasn't home.

Drawing closer, Hana recognized the figure. A tall, burly man with tattoos peeking out from behind the bars of a prison. He wore a black cap with an embroidered domino card design. There was no mistaking it—it was Bob, Bob Balak. The person who had been coming to collect her family's debts all this time.