The break ended. The classroom went back to normal—at least for the teacher, who walked in and opened the book right away. But for us sitting on those wooden chairs, it felt like the air had grown heavier.
I sat in the middle row, my phone safely in my pocket. Arka sat beside me, opening his math book, though his hand was still hiding a small piece of paper inside—a list of names we had just gathered.
Davka came in late. He didn't hurry, as if nothing had changed. Two of his followers trailed behind, laughing loudly at the door before taking their seats in the back. But their laughter sounded forced.
As the teacher started writing problems on the board, I felt a sharp gaze from behind. Davka. I didn't need to turn around to know—it was like I could feel his breath.
A whisper cut through the air, aimed directly at me."Your recording… who do you think dares to see it? None of them would step forward."
I kept my head down, pretending to write.
Another whisper followed."That number can spread. It can disappear. Just like you did before—gone, with nobody who cared."
Arka glanced at me, his face tight with anger. But I grabbed his hand under the table, signaling him not to react.
On my left, Kia sat quietly, pretending to take notes. But I noticed her hand moving quickly. She scribbled something on the edge of her notebook, tore the paper, and folded it small. When the teacher turned his back to the class, Kia slipped the note onto my desk.
Don't be afraid. Many people heard.
I looked at her for a second. Kia kept her head down, her face calm, as if nothing had happened.
From the back, Davka hissed, "Your net is weak, Yohan. I only need to cut one thread."
I turned slightly, just enough to show half my face. My voice was low, almost a whisper."If you really think it's weak, then why do you look nervous?"
Several heads around us lifted, pretending to listen to the teacher, but clearly trying to catch the exchange. Dika, sitting in the corner, slowly closed his book. His sharp eyes fixed on Davka, a silent warning.
The teacher turned back, and the room went quiet again. Chalk scraped against the board. But beneath that sound, tension still hung heavy.
For the first time, Davka didn't look fully in control of the room.
I faced the board, writing down answers. But deep inside, I knew: the silent battle had already begun.
Shadows in the Hallway
The final bell rang. Students rushed out of class, their laughter and chatter filling the air, happy the day was over. But the back hallway of the school was never that crowded—only footsteps echoing against the walls.
I walked with Arka. My bag felt heavier than usual—not because of books, but because of all the names and stories saved on my phone.
The hallway suddenly grew quiet. From the far end, Davka appeared. His two followers weren't laughing this time; they just trailed behind him like shadows. He stopped a few steps in front of us.
"Good," he said softly. "You talk well in class. But you forget one thing—outside the teacher's room, who can protect you?"
Arka shifted closer to me. "He's not alone."
Davka narrowed his eyes at Arka. "So now you want to play the hero too? Careful. You know what happens to people who act brave."
Before I could reply, more footsteps came. Kia appeared from the side hallway, hugging her books to her chest. She stopped, her eyes sharp on Davka. "Funny. Every time you speak, your voice gets smaller. Are you scared, Davka?"
Davka gave a crooked smile, but it didn't fully hide his unease. "Sweet girls shouldn't get involved."
Not long after, Dika showed up, leaning casually against the wall. "If she can't get involved, can I? Or do you only feel brave when it's three against one?"
The hallway fell silent. No teachers, no other students. Just us.
I took a small step forward, meeting Davka's gaze. "You're right about one thing, Davka. Outside the teacher's room, no one protects me. That's why I learned to protect myself."
My phone buzzed in my pocket—another message. I knew Arka heard it too. He gave me a slight smile.
Davka clicked his tongue and turned sharply. "Tomorrow. Let's see who falls first."He walked away, his two followers behind him, but their steps weren't as steady as before.
The four of us remained there—me, Arka, Kia, and Dika still leaning on the wall. The silence felt different now—not fear, but the sign that the real fight had just begun.
Shadows Behind the Mansion Lights
Night fell slowly over the Alister mansion. The garden lights glowed softly, lighting the path to the front door. Old trees swayed in the breeze, casting jagged shadows on the outer walls. From inside, the smell of Una's chicken soup still lingered faintly, even though dinner was over. That warm feeling clashed with my mind, which was full of numbers, names, and threats.
I sat in the small study next to the library, a thick folder on my lap and my phone on the table. The screen was full of incoming messages—names of Davka's victims, numbers piling up like debt entries in a dark book. Photos of transfer slips, voice recordings, short notes. Everything saved. Everything pointed to the same face.
Arka helped me tidy the data from earlier, writing it down in a small notebook with neat, upright letters, as if preparing an official report. Now it was all here. Evidence. A weapon.
A knock sounded three times. Effendi came in without much talk, carrying a warm glass of tea. Steam rose thinly, dancing in the air."You look like an adult weighing war," he said, his voice calm but heavy, placing the tea on the table.I touched the glass and felt the warmth. "Sometimes it feels like a war," I replied softly. "A war without weapons."
Deon arrived soon after. As usual, he didn't waste words. His tablet was on, full of folders and charts. "I've set up encryption. Your phone's data can be transferred tonight. If you keep it on one device too long, it invites trouble."I nodded and handed over my phone with a little hesitation. "This is... too much. All these names, all those amounts. I don't know if people are ready if this comes out. What if tomorrow everyone suddenly knows?"Deon looked at me straight. "That's the point, Yohanes. Truth rarely arrives at a convenient time. If you wait until they're ready, it'll never happen."I swallowed. His words stung but made sense.
The door creaked again. Jovian stuck his head in, his crooked smile appearing before his body. "Hear the word 'war'? Don't forget to invite me. If you need a friend to face that thug, tell me. I can embarrass him without touching him."I raised an eyebrow. "How would you do that?""My way," Jovian chuckled as he stepped inside. "Sometimes the right look and line are sharper than a punch. Besides, who said the stage is only in the theater? Your school is a stage too. And people are already watching."I smiled slightly. "I think a lot of eyes are already turning."
Una came in last. She didn't bring documents or a mischievous grin—only a thin blanket she placed over the chair beside me. "You're trembling," she said softly, her voice like calming water. "Not because you're scared, but because you carry it alone. Don't do that anymore. This house stands because we share the load. If you fall, let someone catch you."I was silent. Those words were simple but heavier than the folder on my lap. I'd always believed no one would come. But tonight, in this room, everyone had come.
Effendi patted my shoulder. His hand was firm but gentle. "Tomorrow you'll see who really stands with you. Don't expect it to be easy, Yohanes. But don't forget—you're not alone anymore."I nodded, my throat tight.
Deon turned on a small projector from his tablet, and on the white wall of the study appeared a long table: names, amounts, dates. Row after row like a tightening net."This isn't just evidence," Deon said. "It's a map. If you know how to read it, you'll see who's most hurt, who can testify, and who could be an ally."
Jovian whistled softly. "Look at that. More dramatic than a theater script."Una gave a sharp look, but her eyes softened when she looked back at me.I stared at the screen until the numbers seemed to move on their own. They weren't just data—they were voices that had been silenced for too long.
That night, for the first time in a long time, the phone on my table felt like more than a small device. It was a weapon. And in this mansion, everyone knew how to sharpen it.
Suddenly, a new notification appeared on the screen. A name that made my blood stop for a moment:
Sender: D.M.
The message had only one sentence.
"I know you are keeping something that does not belong to you."
The First Crack in the Safe Wall
That morning, school was as busy as usual—the bell ringing, footsteps rushing through the halls, and the shouts of street vendors outside the gate mixing together. But inside the classroom, the air turned stiff the moment I walked in. Eyes followed my steps. Some whispered quietly, some quickly looked down, afraid of being caught staring.
At the back row, Davka was already waiting. He sat casually with his legs stretched out, a thin smile on his face. When our eyes met, he straightened up."Look who walks in so confidently," he said loudly, enough for half the class to hear.
I kept moving toward my desk, trying not to give him an opening. But Davka stood and walked toward me, his steps calm—like a lion slowing down to enjoy the hunt.
His rough hand landed on my shoulder."New shoes, clean uniform... who are you trying to fool? Everyone knows you're nothing." He pressed harder, then whispered, "Never forget your place."
I brushed his hand off. "That's enough, Davka."
He laughed shortly, then grabbed my book from the desk and dropped it to the floor. Before I could pick it up, he stepped on the cover with his dusty shoe."Oh? Your stuff fell. Go ahead, pick it up. Or maybe ask your new master to help?"
Some students laughed quietly, but most looked down, afraid to get involved.
I crouched, pulled the book out from under his foot. My hands trembled, but my voice came out soft and steady."If you think this makes you look strong… you're wrong."
For a moment, Davka's eyes froze, but he quickly covered it with a mocking smile."Brave words, huh? Careful. That mouth of yours could cost you more than just a book."
From the side, Kia's worried eyes stayed fixed on me. She looked ready to move but forced herself to stay seated. Behind her, Dika Maheswara leaned on his chair, silent as always, but his gaze pierced toward Davka—a silent warning few others dared to show.
The bell rang again, calling the start of class. Davka finally stepped back and returned to his seat. But before sitting down, he glanced at me once more, that sinister smile still on his face."Enjoy the morning, Yohanes. The day is still long."
I held my breath. Outside the window, the sun shone brightly, but inside this class, the shadows felt heavier than ever.
The teacher soon left after writing down an assignment on the board. The room filled with chair-scraping noises and whispers. At the back, Davka pretended to write, but his eyes kept flicking toward me, sharp and full of threat.
I lowered my head, copying the assignment onto paper, trying to give him no chance. But from the corner of my eye, I saw a small movement. Kia—usually two rows away—moved closer quietly. She pretended to borrow an eraser from a friend's desk, then placed it on mine.
"Don't let him break you," she whispered quickly, barely audible. Her glance was brief, but enough to make my heartbeat race.
Before I could respond, Dika moved too. Known as cold and quiet, he rarely spoke and often kept to himself. But this time, he walked past my desk, pretending to sharpen his pencil. As he passed, he dropped a small folded paper on top of my book.
I quickly covered it with my hand, pretending to still write. When he returned to his seat, I opened the note.
Don't be afraid. I see everything. If he tries again, I'll be there.
I swallowed hard. Those simple words felt heavier than all the notebooks stacked on my desk. For the first time that morning, something other than fear filled my chest—a small promise that I wasn't completely alone against Davka.
Kia sat straight again, her eyes fixed on the board as if nothing had happened. But her finger tapped softly on her desk—a rhythm only noticeable if you paid attention. A silent signal: I'm here.
From the back row, Davka narrowed his eyes, maybe sensing something had slipped past him. His thin smile stayed, but I knew he was already planning his next move.
I clenched the little note in my hand. The morning was indeed still long. But at least, I wasn't walking through it alone anymore.
Footsteps at the Dusk Gate
The last bell rang, signaling the end of the day. The school hallways suddenly filled with the noise of footsteps and chatter, mixed with the smell of chalk dust and damp paper. I packed my books slower than usual, waiting for the crowd of students to thin out. But it turned out that was part of the trap.
When I stepped out of the classroom, Davka was already there, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, as if he were only waiting for the evening breeze. His two followers stood not far behind him, pretending to joke around while blocking the path to the gate.
"You took your time, Yohanes," he said flatly. His tone sounded light, but his eyes cut deep. "Did you think you could hide in the crowd?"
I stopped three steps away from him, staring straight ahead. "I'm just going home."
"Home?" He chuckled. "Or running away?"
Davka moved forward, deliberately closing the distance. The laughter of other students passing by felt far away, as if this hallway belonged only to us.
"I'm not running away," I answered quietly. "I just don't want to be your stepping stone anymore."
His expression shifted slightly, like clouds covering the sun. "A stepping stone?" He tapped his own chest. "I'm the roof, Yohanes. Without me, every kid here would be eaten alive by someone worse. Do you think that data on your phone is enough to replace me?"
I gripped my backpack straps tighter. "You're wrong. I don't want to replace anyone. I just want to stop."
Suddenly, Davka leaned in close, whispering harshly in my ear so I could feel his breath. "If you stop, you're opening the door to your own destruction. Everyone who believes in you will fall too. Including that Arka boy. Including the braided girl who keeps watching from a distance."
I held myself back from reacting, even though my blood boiled. Kia. Arka. Even Dika—they were all in Davka's sights.
"What do you really want?" I asked, my voice trembling, but not from fear.
Davka smirked, stepping back half a pace. "Simple. Tomorrow, you come alone. No phone, no friends. We'll finish this behind the school storage building. If not…" He glanced at his followers. "…then we'll find someone else to make an example of."
The threat hung in the air like a noose. I could have answered right then, but the words stuck in my throat.
At the end of the hallway, I caught a pair of eyes—Kia, standing hesitantly near the stairs. And farther away, Dika leaning against a pillar, pretending not to care. But the brief look they gave me was enough: they heard, they knew.
I took a deep breath, then spoke softly, almost like a promise to myself."Tomorrow… I won't come alone."
Davka's smile widened, but his eyes burned with anger. "You just chose the hard way."
The hallway shook with the shouts of kids spilling out from other classrooms, but between the three of us, the silence was heavier. I walked past them without looking back, my heart pounding, while Davka's footsteps behind me sounded like a shadow that couldn't be shaken.
Outside the gate, the sky burned red with dusk, as if marking tomorrow not as an ordinary school day—but as the day of reckoning.
A Quiet Ride Home
The car moved slowly along the city streets, already painted with the colors of dusk. I sat alone in the back seat. The driver assigned by Effendi didn't say much, only flicked the turn signal now and then. The hum of the engine and the rush of traffic became the background sound for the words spinning in my head.
"Tomorrow at the warehouse… alone… don't bring your phone…"I repeated Davka's words like a broken tape. They stuck on my tongue, making me want to spit them out, but I couldn't.
My hand reached into my bag—Deon's new phone, full of data, full of names. A weapon I'd never imagined holding."But if I use it, who will pay the price? Them? Me?"
Kia's face flashed in my mind, the look she gave me earlier in the hallway. Hesitant, but with a glimmer of belief."Kia saw. Dika heard too. They know I'm not really alone… but is that enough?"
I lowered my head, staring at my own reflection in the dark car window."If I go alone, Davka wins. If I don't go alone, he has ways to make me lose anyway."
The car passed a red light. The glow of neon signs spilled into the cabin, lighting up the folder on my lap. For a moment I wanted to open it, to count the numbers again, to make sure everything was still there. But I knew that would only make my head feel even heavier.
"Proof is sharper than fists…" I muttered, remembering Deon's words. "But if it's sharp, it can cut whoever holds it. Including me."
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The road was still long, but the car felt like a vacuum, sealing me off from the outside."How long do I have to keep running? How long before they—Alister, Arka, Kia—get burned just because I lit the fire?"
Finally, the car turned onto the road leading to the mansion. Through the window, the garden lights slowly appeared, like small beacons in the dark. I leaned back against the seat, my murmurs growing softer, almost like an unfinished prayer:"Tomorrow… tomorrow it has to end. But how do I make sure I don't end with it all?"