Ingsun: The Light

Alamanda

“What?”

Aren stared at Nada as they rode the escalator down to the mall's ground floor.

“Yeah. That's the weird part. I thought I was the one who crashed into him, but he kept apologizing for running into me instead. But if he really was the one who hit me, then why was he the one who got launched into the trash bin near the school store?”

“If he really slammed into you,” Aren said, “you should be in the hospital right now. In a coma. Covered in IV tubes. Nathan's built like a tank. He's an athlete.”

“That's exactly what Benu said. He saw everything. According to him, Nathan hit me like a fighter jet plowing into a pedicab.”

“So why is he so desperate to see you?”

Nada shrugged. “How should I know? Maybe he just wants to apologize again. Guess we'll find out soon enough.”

They stepped off the escalator and headed straight for Writer's Coffee, the café Nathan had mentioned over text message. The cozy café, which also housed a small library, sat right in the middle of the ground floor where streams of shoppers crossed paths from every direction.

Nathan was already there. He sat alone at a small round table on a tall chair. This late afternoon, he looked effortlessly stylish in a fitted T-shirt and ripped jeans. Nada caught Aren swallowing hard.

Well... that was understandable.

Athletic guys loved showing off the results of endless training, and clothes that hugged every muscle did the job perfectly. It was exactly the sort of thing that made girls like Aren lose their composure.

Nada, however, couldn't have cared less.

Sure, Nathan was only a tiny step away from looking like a movie star. But it would take far more than a handsome face to impress her.

“So... neither of you has gone home yet?” Nathan asked casually after inviting them to order drinks.

“Not yet,” Nada replied. “I came here after school because Aren wanted to meet up.”

Nathan blinked at Aren.

“Wait... where were you?”

Aren blinked back as if being spoken to by Nathan was some kind of life-changing spiritual experience.

“I went to Semarang with the English Debate Club,” she answered. “We had a competition at the Police Academy. I came back with Ms. Siwi and the debate team. Then I asked to be dropped off here because I'm meeting my parents later.”

“Wow. Did you win?”

“Only second place.” Aren fought hard to hide the grin threatening to spread across her face, pretending it wasn't a big deal at all. “The team from Semarang was incredible.”

“Second place is amazing,” Nathan said sincerely. “Especially for an English debate competition. I get nervous just talking to foreigners. I'm always afraid I'll mess up my grammar.”

“Well, you're a basketball player,” Nada chimed in, rescuing Aren, who seemed too flustered to answer. “Different battlefield.”

Nathan laughed.

“By the way... are you really okay after what happened this morning?”

Nada stared at him. “Seriously? You went all the way to my house just to ask me that?”

“Of course. I was worried. Maybe you felt fine at first, but bruises don't always show up right away.”

“I'm perfectly fine,” she spread her arms. “See? I walked all the way here. Aren and I even wandered around the mall before meeting you. And we'll probably walk around some more after my mom and her parents get here.”

She tilted her head.

“By the way... where did you get my address?”

“From Haris, your class mate,” Nathan scratched his cheek. “You're tougher than you look. I was the one who ended up flying into the trash bin.”

“You probably just slipped,” Nada said. “The grass near the store was wet with morning dew.”

Nathan paused.

“You know... you're right,” he frowned thoughtfully. “I probably fell because I slipped. Not because of the collision.”

Nada nodded. “Mystery solved.”

Not really. There were still plenty of mysteries left unsolved since yesterday afternoon.

A waitress soon brought over their drinks. Silence settled around the table. Like any teenagers living in the smartphone era, all three instinctively buried themselves in their phones.

“Has your mom arrived?” Aren finally asked.

Nada glanced at her screen and nodded.

“She has. She's walking here from the basement parking lot.”

“Your mom is a physics lecturer, right?” Nathan asked.

Nada looked up. “Yeah. How do you know?”

“I've added her on social media. She seems incredibly busy. Research projects, scientific journals, academic papers... she's always posting about work.”

“She really is,” Nada smiled helplessly. “Busier than a government minister. She leaves home before I do and usually gets back after seven. Teaching is only half her job. The rest is research and writing. Honestly, it's a miracle she's getting here this early.”

Nathan chuckled.

“I remember when she tagged you in an airport photo once. That was when I realized you're Professor Femna's daughter. Anyone who didn't know better would think the two of you were sisters.”

Nada laughed.

“My mom has one of those faces. Junior high school boys keep flirting with her on social media. They think she's some innocent college student.”

Nathan and Aren laughed. Right then, the graceful woman they'd been talking about walked into the café.

To Nada, her mother looked breathtaking that afternoon. The navy-blue outfit suited her perfectly, giving her an elegant, sophisticated aura that could intimidate any average man.

Please... just don't let us run into Mr. Gading. Oddly enough, the moment her mother entered, her gaze landed directly on Nathan.

“Wait... aren't you Mr. San's son?”

Nathan smiled awkwardly. “Yes, Auntie.”

He immediately stood, bowed slightly, and politely shook her hand.

“You know each other?” Nada and Aren asked at the same time.

“We've met once,” her mother replied as she sat down and accepted a menu from the waitress. “At The Village Café. I was having dinner there with Mr. Gading. Mr. Santoso Ernawan, Nathan’s father, was there too. Nathan came by after school, and we were introduced.”

She smiled at Nathan.

“Mr. San said this young man is the one who'll eventually take over the Semestaloka Group.”

Nada's eyes widened. “Wait... Santoso Ernawan? The famous real estate developer? His housing company commercials are on local TV every single day.”

“Exactly,” her mother smiled. “You girls are lucky to be friends with his son. Maybe some of his business talent will rub off on you.”

“Aamen!” Aren said dramatically, wiping both hands over her face in mock prayer.

Everyone laughed.

“Feeling better now, Aren?” her mother asked after ordering a sugar-free long black. “Nada told me your stomach was in terrible shape recently.”

“I'm fine now, Auntie. I almost got hospitalized.”

“You're always getting sick,” she turned to Nada. “Why don't you take a look at her? Maybe there's something... unusual going on. Yesterday you checked on your friend Benu, didn't you?”

Nada nodded. “I did.”

“And?”

“He was being hassled by a group of girls living near the guava tree.”

Nathan frowned.

“Girls?”

Her mother raised both hands and made quotation marks with her fingers.

“Girls.”

Nathan froze.

“You mean... spirits?”

She nodded. “Yes. Nada's an Indigo Girl. She can communicate with spirits, ghosts, any supernatural entities.”

Nathan's eyes nearly popped out. “Seriously? That's incredible!”

Nada laughed shyly. “It's nothing special. Usually I just listen to what they want and pass the message on to the living.”

“Then check Aren,” her mother insisted. “She's sick way too often. I'm almost forty and I rarely get seriously ill. Maybe something invisible is causing it.”

Aren grimaced. “No thanks. That's scary.”

“You're only getting checked. There’s nothing scary about it.”

Nada quietly stirred the ice in her cappuccino. A frown slowly formed on her forehead.

“This is connected to Alamanda 108,” she suddenly murmured.

“What is?” Aren asked.

Nada jerked upright. As if she'd just awakened from a deep sleep.

“…Wait!” she blinked several times. “What does that even mean? It just popped into my head out of nowhere.”

“It sounds like some kind of psychic insight,” her mother whispered dramatically.

Nada sighed. “Or maybe it's just hunger making my brain malfunction.”

But seriously... she needed to talk to someone about everything strange that had happened during the last twenty-four hours.

The obvious choice was her mother.

The problem was that discussing supernatural phenomena with a physics professor felt like asking an emergency room doctor for advice on digging graves. The two worlds simply refused to overlap.

But if she kept all of this to herself much longer, she had a feeling the next place she'd be checking into wouldn't be a café.

It would be the psychiatric ward.