That afternoon, the sun blazed overhead, as if unwilling to leave even the slightest shadow behind. Laras stood in front of her locker, her fingers trembling as she arranged her textbooks. Her heart pounded—earlier that morning, while hurrying to class, her shoe had slipped and her knee had struck the edge of a desk. As if that weren't enough, the hem of her school uniform skirt had torn slightly, and her face had gone deathly pale before she even had time to touch up her face powder. She stared at her faint reflection in the shiny locker door, and her heart sank. She looked exhausted, the shadows beneath her eyes stark and visible, far from the polished appearance she usually presented to everyone.
What if someone sees me? What if that photo gets shared? What if everyone starts finding out that I'm actually far from perfect? Her thoughts spun endlessly, as if thousands of eyes were watching every inch of her appearance. She quickly pressed the torn section against the wall, trying desperately to cover it. Her breathing grew short and heavy, her chest tight with anxiety. Every footstep passing by sounded like a sharp, judging stare, as if soft whispers were talking about her behind her back.
“Laras?”
The voice made her stiffen instantly, her shoulders jumping in surprise. Bayu stood beside her, carrying a stack of books, looking at her with an unexpected expression—not surprise, not disgust, and not the slightest hint of judgment. Instead, his gaze was gentle, as if he understood the turmoil inside her heart.
“Your skirt… it’s torn, isn’t it?” he asked softly, his voice low and controlled, making no attempt to raise it so the other people passing through the school hallway could hear.
Laras’s face flushed instantly, shame and fear flooding her chest. “I… I didn’t do it on purpose. I’ll sew it later. Don’t tell anyone, okay?” she whispered, her eyes glistening as she tried to keep her tears from falling right there.
Bayu slowly set his books on the floor, then reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a small safety pin that looked like something he carried with him often. “I’ll pin it for now. You can sew it properly when you get home. No one will know. It’s okay,” he said soothingly, as if he could read just how intense the girl’s fear was at that moment.
With quick, careful movements, he fastened the pin over the torn section, trying to hide the damage as well as possible without drawing anyone else’s attention. Their hands briefly touched—Bayu’s hand was warm and steady, while Laras’s was ice-cold and wouldn’t stop trembling. The touch lasted only a moment, yet it seemed to pierce all the way into her heart, which felt just as cold.
“You know, Laras…” Bayu said softly, looking straight into her eyes with genuine sincerity. “Small cracks don’t make someone ugly. That’s where light can get in.”
Laras froze at his words, as if the entire world around her had stopped turning for a moment. The words were so simple, yet they seemed to break through every thick wall she had painstakingly built around her heart. All this time, she had thought that only perfect things deserved to be seen, liked, and loved. Yet this guy standing in front of her… he seemed to see beyond her appearance, into a place she had never shown anyone—a place where all her fears and flaws were hidden.
“Why… are you so kind to me?” she asked softly, her voice almost swallowed by the sound of other students’ footsteps, her eyes still fixed on Bayu in open confusion.
Bayu smiled—a sincere smile that always made her heart beat erratically. “Because I see you. Not your photos, not your image. You. The real you.”
He picked up his books again, then slowly walked away, leaving Laras still standing frozen in front of her locker. Her heart raced faster than usual, not from anxiety or fear, but because of something else—something warm and gentle that she had always believed she would never be worthy of having.
Behind the smile she put back on for everyone who passed by, there was a small change this time. In the dark, tightly closed corner of her heart, a tiny glimmer of hope she had never felt before began to slip in.
Maybe… just maybe. She didn’t have to be perfect all the time to remain worthy.