Chapter 4 A New Home

The final school bell echoed through the hallways.

Students poured out of their classrooms, laughing and talking as they hurried toward the front gate.

I quietly packed my books into my bag.

"Yudha."

I looked up.

Andre was standing beside my desk.

"How are you getting home?"

"By public minibus."

"Oh."

He smiled.

"If you ever get lost, just ask me. I know this area pretty well."

"Thanks."

He gave me a quick nod before jogging off to catch up with his friends.

I watched him disappear into the crowd.

At least...

there was still one person who treated me like an ordinary student.

The ride home was quiet.

I sat beside the window of the crowded minibus, watching the streets of Bandung pass by.

Street vendors called out to customers.

Motorcycles filled the roads.

Students in different uniforms walked home with their friends, laughing about things that probably wouldn't matter tomorrow.

Everything looked so normal.

Only my life had changed.

When I finally arrived, I pushed open the small iron gate and stepped into Grandma's yard.

The house wasn't large.

It was old, simple, and well cared for.

Flower pots lined the front porch, and every corner looked neat.

As soon as I opened the front door, the smell of home-cooked food filled the air.

"You're home?"

Aunt Santi's voice came from the kitchen.

"Yes, Aunt."

"Wash your hands first."

"Okay."

I carried my school bag into my room before heading to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, all four of us were sitting around the dining table.

Grandma sat at the head of the table.

Yuli sat beside me.

No one talked very much.

The only sounds were spoons touching plates.

"How was school?"

Grandma finally asked.

"It was fine."

My answer was short.

"Did you make any friends?"

I paused for a second.

"...Yes."

I lied.

Grandma simply nodded.

She didn't ask another question.

Perhaps she already knew I wasn't ready to talk.

After lunch, Aunt Santi handed me a broom.

"The front yard hasn't been swept yet."

I accepted it without complaining.

Back in Jakarta...

I had never been asked to do housework.

Things were different now.

I quietly swept the yard while the afternoon breeze rustled the leaves.

From time to time, teenagers around my age walked past the house, laughing together.

I couldn't help watching them.

It felt as if I was living in a different world from everyone else.

As evening approached, Aunt Santi walked over to me.

"Yudha."

"Yes, Aunt?"

"I need you to listen carefully."

I nodded.

"You're living in Grandma's house now."

"In this family, everyone helps each other."

"After school, put away your bag, change your clothes, and help with the housework."

"I understand."

"And one more thing."

Her expression turned serious.

"Don't cause any trouble."

Her words stung more than I expected.

I lowered my head.

"I won't."

She looked at me for a moment before gently patting my shoulder.

Then she returned inside.

That night, I lay down in the small bedroom I shared with Yuli.

The room wasn't big.

An old wooden wardrobe stood in one corner.

A simple study desk sat beside the window.

I slowly unpacked my school bag.

As I arranged my books, something slipped onto the bed.

A family photograph.

Dad.

Mom.

Yuli.

And me.

All of us were smiling.

I stared at the picture for a long time.

It felt like it belonged to another family.

Another life.

Carefully, I slipped it back between the pages of one of my notebooks.

I wasn't ready to look at it anymore.

The bedroom light was switched off.

Darkness quietly filled the room.

After a while, Yuli's soft voice broke the silence.

"Big Brother..."

"Yeah?"

"Are we going to live here forever?"

I didn't answer right away.

"Sorry..."

"I don't know either."

Yuli didn't say another word.

A few minutes later, her breathing became slow and steady.

She had fallen asleep.

I remained awake, staring at the ceiling.

My first day at my new school was finally over.

But for the first time in my life...

I felt as though I no longer had a place I could truly call home.

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