Late afternoon was settling in when the bus finally entered the small town that would be their first stop.
Raka pressed his face against the window.
The view outside was already completely different from the city where they lived.
There were no tall buildings.
No overly bright streetlights.
No endless chorus of vehicles calling back and forth.
All they could see were rows of simple houses, small shops, trees growing along the road, and green hills slowly turning dark as the sun began to set.
Raka opened his notebook.
He looked at the notes he'd written since morning.
Day One.
Beneath it were already plenty of notes.
The bus ride.
Food expenses.
Mr. Surya's name.
A few little things he found interesting.
He smiled.
It had only been one day, but the notebook already felt like a place to store his new life.
"Why are you smiling?"
Naya asked while checking her camera.
"I'm not."
"Whenever you say that, there's usually something going on."
Raka closed the notebook.
"I just realized something."
"Realized what?"
"This journey is actually real."
Naya stopped checking the camera.
She looked out the window.
"Yeah."
"Are you still scared?"
"Still."
"Then why keep going?"
Naya looked at Raka.
"Because being scared isn't a reason to stop."
Raka nodded.
The answer was simple.
But the more often he heard it, the more he understood what it meant.
The bus stopped at a small terminal.
The driver announced that their trip had come to an end.
Raka and Naya got off.
The afternoon air welcomed them at once.
Colder.
Cleaner.
And carrying a faint smell of wet earth.
Raka looked at the terminal sign.
Then he opened the map.
"So we have to find our next ride."
Naya stood beside him.
"To the village?"
"Yeah."
"What's it called?"
Raka searched through his notes.
"Kalipura."
Naya looked at the information board.
"It says the last ride leaves at six."
Raka checked the time.
5:42 p.m.
"That gives us eighteen minutes."
They immediately started walking faster.
The weight of their bags made their steps feel slower.
Several people turned to look as they passed.
One vendor even shouted an offer of food.
Raka nearly stopped.
Naya tugged on his arm.
"Don't."
"Why not?"
"We have to catch the ride first."
"But I'm hungry."
"We ate three hours ago."
"My stomach has a different opinion."
Naya shook her head.
They finally found the vehicle they were looking for.
An old minibus with paint that had begun to fade.
Written across the windshield was:
KALIPURA — PANGKALAN UTARA
Raka smiled.
"Found it."
They climbed aboard.
This vehicle was much smaller than the bus they'd taken before.
There were only a few passengers.
A mother with two children.
A vendor carrying several baskets.
A young man asleep with earphones in.
And an old man sitting near the door.
Raka and Naya sat in the back.
The vehicle started moving.
In less than fifteen minutes, the town disappeared.
The road grew narrower.
The trees grew thicker.
The houses grew farther apart.
The sun slowly sank behind the hills.
Raka opened the map again.
"How much farther to Kalipura?"
Naya looked at her phone.
"About an hour."
"An hour?"
"Yeah."
Raka sighed.
"Then we'll get there at night."
"What's wrong with that?"
"We don't have a place to stay yet."
Naya fell silent.
The two of them looked at each other.
"Oh."
"Exactly."
Raka slapped his forehead.
"This is a problem."
"Relax."
"You have a plan?"
"Not yet."
"Great."
Naya smiled.
"Panicking won't solve the problem either."
Raka leaned his head against the seat.
"Okay."
He looked at the road ahead.
"What if there's no place to stay when we get there?"
"We'll look for one."
"What if there isn't one?"
"Ask the locals."
"What if there aren't any?"
Naya looked at him.
"Raka."
"Hmm?"
"Stop making up worst-case scenarios."
Raka laughed.
"Got it."
But a few minutes later, rain began to fall.
At first, it was only a drizzle.
Then it grew heavier.
Rain pounded against the roof of the minibus.
Droplets began to cover the windows.
Raka looked outside.
The sky, which had been orange a moment ago, turned gray.
Naya tucked her camera deeper into her bag.
"Don't let it get wet."
Raka helped cover the bag with his jacket.
"Is that camera really that important?"
Naya nodded.
"More than you think."
"Because of your dad?"
Naya fell silent.
Raka immediately realized that he might have gone too far.
"Sorry."
Naya shook her head.
"It's okay."
She looked at the camera in her hands.
"Sometimes, every photo I take with this camera feels like carrying a small piece of an old story."
Raka didn't answer.
Naya continued,
"Sometimes I'm afraid that one day I'll forget what it felt like to have someone teach me how to see the world."
Raka looked at her.
"Then don't forget."
"How?"
"Tell the story."
Naya gave him a small smile.
"To whom?"
"Anyone."
Raka pointed at her camera.
"A photo is just an image. But if you give it a story, other people can get to know what you saw, too."
Naya gazed at him for a few seconds.
"Since when did you become so wise?"
"Since I got on the bus."
Naya laughed.
"Then it must be a good bus."
"Obviously."
The rain grew heavier.
The vehicle moved slowly along the winding road.
Several times, the tires hit puddles.
The passengers began to fall silent.
Until finally, the minibus stopped.
Raka looked ahead.
"Why?"
The driver opened the door and got out.
He spoke with someone outside.
A few minutes later, the driver returned.
"There's been a small landslide up ahead," he said.
All the passengers were startled.
"So what do we do, sir?" one of the mothers asked.
"We'll wait a little while."
Raka looked at Naya.
Their faces showed the same concern.
They had no idea what to do.
Fifteen minutes passed.
The rain began to let up a little.
The driver got out again.
This time, several locals arrived carrying simple tools.
They cleared away the dirt and branches blocking part of the road.
Raka watched from inside the vehicle.
A young man outside worked without saying much.
His clothes were soaked.
His hands were dirty.
But he kept helping.
Once the road was safe enough, the vehicle finally started moving.
When they reached a house by the roadside, the young man from before turned out to be getting on, too.
He sat in the front seat.
Raka looked at him.
The young man wasn't any older than they were.
"He's from around here?" Raka whispered.
Naya nodded.
"Looks like it."
A few minutes later, the young man turned around.
"You two aren't from here?"
Raka answered,
"No."
"Where are you headed?"
"Kalipura."
The young man raised an eyebrow.
"By yourself?"
"The two of us."
"Oh."
He looked at their bags.
"Mountaineers?"
Raka shook his head.
"Adventurers."
The young man laughed.
"What's the difference?"
Raka thought about it.
"Mountaineers have a destination. Adventurers don't necessarily have one."
The young man smiled.
"My name's Juno."
Raka introduced himself.
"Raka."
"Naya."
Juno nodded.
"If you're going to Kalipura, don't just look for a place to stay."
"What else?"
"There's a guesthouse near the old market."
"Free?"
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"If the owner is there."
Raka immediately took notes.
"What's her name?"
"Mrs. Sari."
Naya took notes, too.
"Does she take in travelers?"
"If you're polite."
Raka nodded solemnly.
"Then we have to be polite."
Juno laughed.
"Obviously."
By the time the vehicle finally arrived in Kalipura, night had fallen completely.
Small lights dotted the road.
They got off with Juno.
Raka lifted his bag.
"Juno."
"Hmm?"
"Which way to Mrs. Sari's house?"
Juno pointed down the road to the left.
"Follow me."
They walked on.
The village roads were quiet.
Crickets chirped from the gardens.
Every now and then, a vehicle passed by.
Before long, they stopped in front of a simple wooden house.
Juno knocked on the door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
There was no answer.
He knocked again.
"Mrs. Sari?"
A few seconds later, the door opened.
An elderly woman stood there.
Her hair had turned completely white.
Her face looked tired, but her eyes were kind.
She looked at Juno.
Then at Raka and Naya.
"Who are they?"
Juno smiled.
"People who are looking for a path."
Mrs. Sari raised an eyebrow.
"Looking for a path?"
Raka gave an awkward smile.
"Yes, ma'am."
"A path to where?"
Raka opened the map.
"Bukit Arunika."
Mrs. Sari immediately fell silent.
Her smile disappeared.
Naya noticed the change.
"What's wrong, ma'am?"
Mrs. Sari didn't answer the question.
She only stared at the map in Raka's hand.
Then she said softly,
"Do you really intend to go there?"
Raka nodded.
"Yes."
Mrs. Sari opened the door wider.
"Come in first."
Raka and Naya exchanged a glance.
Then they stepped inside.
They didn't yet know why the name Bukit Arunika had changed Mrs. Sari's expression.
They also didn't know that the journey to that place held a story far longer than a mere beautiful view.
But that night, when the wooden door closed behind them, Raka began to feel that their journey had entered a different chapter.
A chapter that had never been written on any map.
And perhaps that was exactly where the real adventure began.