3. Eka (1)
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Eka

Jalan Sulam, October 3rd, 13:20

When we drifted apart on that faithful day, I never would have guessed, here was where all of us meet each other again. Ayu, Utami, Ade, and Bayu. All five of us were once the best of friends. Right now though, I could no longer feel any intimacy that once existed among us.

“It’s been a while.” Utami whispered when all of us unconsciously gathered together. The girl in glasses had always been the shyest and also the most sensitive. That was why, when all of us started to go our own way, she was the last to give up. She refused to accept that we had changed.

When no reply was given to the shy girl and her blushes kept getting deepened, I sighed. “I think it’s been three years? How are you guys?”

“Been alright.” Ayu answered. Even in high school, Ayu was enchanting. Three years later though, she was downright gorgeous. And I’m not the only one to think that if the glances Ade and Bayu kept giving her were any indication.

“Just so, so.” Ade distractedly said. “How about you, Ka? Saw your book in the bookstore. I guess you manage to realize your dream, huh?”

And there it was. The intimacy and closeness we once had. With a big grin, I gave him a peace sign. “You betcha! Nothing is impossible for this one, after all.”

All of them laughed. Bayu suddenly put his hand on top of my head and messed my hair. “Nothing except getting taller.”

Spluttering, I pushed his arm away. “Take that back!”

“I think I hear someone talking,” Bayu said to Ade. “how about you?”

“Nah, it’s just your imagination. I only see Utami and Ayu here and they aren’t talking.” The two girls giggled.

“You both are assholes.” I growled.

“Oh, so this is where the voice comes from.” Ade exaggeratedly knelt in front of me. “Little girl, your parent never told you not to cuss? It’s bad. BAADDD.” He lengthened the last word excessively.

Feeling pissed off, I kicked the brown-skinned man on his shin. He cursed as he rubbed the abused part. “So violent.”

“You deserve it.” Snorting, I helped him get up. “So, all of you get an invitation too.”

“That’s right.” Utami took out said invitation from her ever-present sling bag. “I almost decline to attend today. Now I’m glad I change my mind. It’s really overcrowded though.”

All of us nodded. There were a lot of people waiting in the field of the sole school in Jalan Sulam. The only worker looked completely unperturbed as she slowly checked each invitation before telling us to wait. She flat out told us that we’re forbidden to run around the school at this point of time—odd choice of words, I noted.

“This place doesn’t seem that scary now, huh.” Ayu muttered. Each one of us unconsciously straightened our back while eyeing our surroundings warily. Gradually though, the voices of people around us calmed us down and the tension bleed out from our bodies. “Sorry.” Ayu apologized.

“Doesn’t matter.” Ade gave a half-hearted grin. “It’s our turn.” The man approached the woman in Batik and gave her his invitation. After a while, she nodded and gave his invitation back. She checked each of ours and then left us to our own devices as we waited.

“It almost feels nostalgic.” Someone exclaimed and I wholeheartedly agreed. Now that we were grown up, the old days of running around the school and laughing without a care in the world had become a fond memory.

“You know what? Time for photo session!” Ayu grabbed our arms and shoved her phone to Bayu. The tall man obediently became our private photographer while Ade gave some unwelcomed commentary—“You look like you’re suffering from constipation.”, “Shut up bastard!”

After taking a dozen of narcissistic photos for a while, a clapping sound drowned out all the cacophony of voices around us. “Thank you for waiting.” Her sole voice oddly sounded clear above the chatters of the mass. “Please follow me to the hall and do not wander.” She commanded sternly.

Like sheep following their shepherd, we formed a somewhat orderly line behind her. She led us to the third floor. We passed through dozens of empty classes before we arrived in front of a big wooden brown door. With arms as thin as a broomstick, the older woman pulled the door opened and ushered us in. As soon as we went inside, from the dais, hundreds of fires suddenly ignited, washing the hall in the orange lights.

Everyone including us newcomers and those inside the Hall showed a shocked look. Amongst the freezing figures and deafening silence, the sound of the closed door echoed around the hall.

“Welcome.” A man suddenly appeared on the podium. He was… exquisite.

As if his albinism was not eye-catching enough, he also had two different colored eyes—Heterochromia, my mind whispered. With a gentle smile and calm voice, he said to us. “Welcome my 100 Fire Holders.”

And that was the beginning of our story of tragedy and futility.

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