Ingsun: The Light

Everything

Nada sat down and placed the folder containing the documents and photographs on the table.

Across from her, a thin man with curly hair that seemed almost too heavy for his head sat waiting, his face tense. As usual, Nada began flipping through the files, deliberately trying to intimidate whoever sat across from her. She didn't care who they were.

“Name?” she asked, her voice sharp enough to make him jump.

“Irfan. Irfan Syahputra.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-nine. Turning forty next month.”

“Occupation?”

“Businessman.”

“Details?”

Mr. Irfan swallowed hard. The way he kept rubbing his fingers together told Nada he was already extremely nervous. Which meant getting the information she needed would be easy.

“I-I own a*****e that sells ornamental aquarium fish.”

Nada nodded slowly. Then she reached into her jacket and pulled out a small golden key. She placed it on the table.

Mr. Irfan stared at it, curiosity mixed with unmistakable fascination.

“Okay. Let's start from the beginning. How did it all happen?”

The man swallowed again. His face grew even more uneasy.

“I met her when I was in ninth grade. I liked her because she was beautiful. And smart. She liked me too because, back then, I was pretty handsome. A lot of girls were interested in me, but she was the only one I actually fell for.”

“What was her name?”

“Dita. Erdita Auliani. She was one year younger than me.”

“You lived next door to each other?”

“Yes. We got close after we went to a KLa Project concert at the 10 November Stadium with some other kids. After that, we started calling each other all the time. She lives nearby. Her house was at 108 Alamanda Street, while mine was at 224 Anyelir Street. Our neighborhood used flower names for the streets.”

“Which neighborhood exactly?”

“Villa Aster Permai Estate, in the Ketintang Baru area of Surabaya.”

“And what happened after that? Did you date?”

“Yes. We broke up and got back together several times. Four times, actually, throughout high school and college. Then she went to college in Bandung. I stayed in Surabaya.”

“And during that final period when you were together, did you truly believe Dita was your soulmate?”

Mr. Irfan nodded.

“Because she kept coming back into my life. No matter where we went, somehow we ended up together again. It felt like fate kept bringing us back to each other. So I thought... we were meant to be.”

“But you weren't. You married someone else.”

Mr. Irfan took a deep breath, his expression heavy.

“Because eventually she met another guy. Someone who had more than I did in every way. And suddenly, after the last time we met in Surabaya, she stopped contacting me. I couldn't reach her either. The phone number she'd given me stopped working. My letters went unanswered. After a full year, I finally gave up. I accepted my parents' decision to set me up with Wanda. She's my wife now.”

“You never contacted Ms. Dita again after that?”

Mr. Irfan shook his head.

“She cut me off. I guess she deliberately pushed me out because... well, maybe she thought I wasn't good enough for her. Her family was wealthy. My late father was just a fish seller at the market.”

“So you don't know whether Ms. Dita might have been carrying some unanswered questions or unresolved issues involving you?”

“I don't think that's possible. Wasn't she the one who left me for another man?”

“We don't know what actually happened from Ms. Dita's point of view. I picked up something connected to romance. Was there another love story in your life?”

“Of course. A few, during the times when Dita and I weren't together. But they were just casual dates. Nothing serious.”

Nada flipped through the documents again.

“And yes, the only significant one was Dita. The problem is, we don't know the whole picture yet because we haven't heard her side.”

Mr. Irfan wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

“I'm just afraid this is going to get worse.”

Nada nodded.

“That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent. And what you've told me is everything you know, correct?”

“Yes. I genuinely haven't had any contact with her since then. Not until today.”

“You don't know where she is now or what she's doing? These days, people your age spend hours Googling old names that carry sentimental value. Or searching social media. You never tried?”

Mr. Irfan shook his head.

“I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it. And what if it ended up threatening my loyalty to my wife? I've already seen enough of my old school friends wreck their marriages after getting dragged back into old romances through w******p groups.”

Nada fell silent, nodding slowly.

“I'll help as much as I can.”

She pushed the golden key back toward Mr. Irfan.

“Please let me know if you discover any new information that could help the investigation.”

The man's face filled with gratitude as he took the key.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

Nada opened her eyes.

Darkness.

Of course it was dark. She always turned off the lights before going to sleep. The lights outside her bedroom were off too, all part of Mama's campaign to save electricity.

The first thing that came to her mind was Alamanda 108. She remembered mentioning it to Aren at Writer's Coffee in Solo Grand Mall.

But only moments ago, she'd gotten the information about that address from Irfan Syahputra.

So who had whispered it to her at the mall?

And there was one more thing that made her brain feel as if someone had squeezed and twisted it until the gears cracked.

Who the hell was Irfan Syahputra?

Nada exhaled and hugged her cold pillow.

Whatever.

---

Nada and Aren were still busy with their phones, waiting for the mandatory 7 p.m. shutdown, when a guy approached them.

“Who are you?”

Aren looked up. The question was directed at her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the boy staring at her with an expression that was impossible to forget. His face reminded both her and Nada of the Ice Age.

“I... I...”

She was so nervous that she suddenly forgot how to speak properly.

“This is Aren, my deskmate,” Nada cut in flatly. “She wasn't here yesterday because she went to an English debate competition in Semarang. That's why Mr. Basri told you to sit here temporarily.”

Radit continued staring at the two girls, his face completely expressionless.

“I don't want to find another seat. I'm comfortable here.”

Nada's blood pressure shot through the roof.

“You can't just do that! You came later. Aren's been sitting here since the beginning of the school year in July.”

Radit turned toward Nada, his forehead creasing.

His mouth opened. He looked ready to launch a counterattack. Instead, something completely unexpected came out.

“NGHAHAHA! You actually got mad!”

Both girls froze. So did everyone else who was already in the classroom. Nada and Aren exchanged a look while Radit continued laughing.

“Sorry, sorry. I'm just acting.”

He shook hands with both of them.

“I made a bet with my cousin.”

“A bet?” Nada asked.

“Yeah. She reads a lot of books and wondered why every teen romance novel has some cold, grumpy guy who acts like he hates the female lead. So she challenged me to act like that on my first day at a new school in Solo.”

He grinned.

“If I could pull it off, she'd treat me to three movie-and-dinner dates. And I won!”

He raised his fist in the air like Mohamed Salah after scoring a goal.

“So you're not actually like that?”

“Hell no. I'm a perfectly normal guy. I'm polite to adults, cold when I accidentally climb into a refrigerator, and rude to pickpockets.”

He laughed.

“I used to be in theater club, so I know how to act. You should've seen your faces. You two were practically turning blue from annoyance!”

“You jerk...” Nada shook her head. “I was seriously about to grow horns.”

Radit burst out laughing again. His whole image had changed. He was actually no different from the guys in the back rows: loud, laughing for no reason, and constantly plotting how to escape before the school day ended.

Then he turned toward Aren.

“Your name's Aren, right?”

The girl nodded, still recovering from the shock.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know the difference between sunset and you?”

Aren swallowed.

“Uh... no. What?”

“Sunset passes. You don't.”

The classroom exploded. The girls screamed. Haris and his troublemaker crew started pounding on their desks.

Aren's cheeks turned bright red.

Nada couldn't help laughing.

“Hahaha... Aren's blushing cherry-red!”

Radit casually walked away from Aren and joined Haris for a high five. Apparently, the moment his cold-guy act ended, he'd become the class favorite.

“What is wrong with that guy?” Aren grumbled, although she couldn't quite suppress her embarrassed grin.

“He's probably acting again,” Nada said, struggling to stop laughing. “Don't catch feelings yet.”

The bell rang. The atmosphere instantly turned grim.

First through third periods were mathematics, taught by Mrs. Susi, who was every bit as terrifying as the subject itself.

Nada hurriedly pulled out her books and suddenly remembered something. For some reason, she asked the boy beside her.

“Hey, who's Irfan Syahputra?”

Aren stared at her. “That's my dad. How do you know his full name?”

Nada froze. She stared back at Aren.

But before she could answer, her phone buzzed with an incoming message. The phone was about to be switched off, so she quickly opened it.

From Dayu Margantari. The message was short.

Meet me @ A Sweet Treat. I'll explain everything.

Nada frowned as she closed w******p and turned off her phone.

Everything?

For some reason, she had a feeling it was connected to all the strange things that had been happening to her lately.