Nara woke up before the alarm.
Five thirty-seven.
She knew the time because the light from her phone screen touched her face as she listened to the rain left over from the night before. Water dripped from the end of the gutter at intervals.
Drip.
From the room next door came the sound of someone opening the bathroom door. Then the sound of a bucket being dragged.
Tuesday.
Her second day at the photocopy shop.
Nara moved her legs a little.
They still hurt.
Not as badly as yesterday, but enough to make her think about the plastic chair near the cashier's desk.
She sat up slowly.
On the table were the transportation money Mr. Hendra had given her, a five-hundred-rupiah coin, and her phone.
Nara opened her notes.
Buy cat food tomorrow. Go to the store tomorrow. Wake up tomorrow. Reply to Raka's message tomorrow. Come again tomorrow.
She read the last line.
Then changed it.
Come again today.
Nara stopped.
The sentence felt more real than the one before.
She added another line.
Don't be late.
After that, she got up.
In the kitchen, ma’am Sari was putting rice into two plastic containers.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning, ma’am.”
“Sit.”
Nara sat without asking anything.
Ma’am Sari set a plate in front of her.
“Rice and an omelet.”
“I can just take it as a packed lunch.”
“Eat this now.”
Nara looked at the plate.
“It’s still early.”
“Does an egg know what time it is?”
Nara picked up her spoon.
She ate slowly.
Ma’am Sari stood near the stove, checking something in a pot.
“Did you get caught in the rain yesterday?”
“Yeah.”
“Your shoes?”
“They’re dry.”
“Good.”
There were no questions about work.
Nara actually felt it would be easier to answer if ma’am Sari asked.
“Mr. Hendra still wants me to come in,” she said.
Ma’am Sari glanced at her.
“Then go.”
“Yeah.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
Nara considered the question.
“I’ll go anyway.”
Ma’am Sari nodded, then turned back to the stove.
Nara finished her rice.
After washing the plate, she returned to her room and put on the same blue shirt. The collar was looking even more faded, but she didn’t have another shirt that felt comfortable enough to work in.
She put a water bottle in her bag.
Then she picked up Mr. Hendra’s black umbrella.
Nara looked at it for a few seconds.
She could return it today.
But the rain forecast on her phone showed a chance of rain again that afternoon.
She put it in her bag.
Later.
She’d return it later.
At the boarding-house door, ma’am Sari handed her a small plastic container.
“Packed lunch.”
Nara accepted it.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t leave it sitting there until tonight.”
“I know.”
“If you know, good.”
Nara walked toward the photocopy shop.
The streets were still wet.
Several puddles filled small potholes near the drainage ditch. A motorcyclist went by too fast, splashing water onto the side of the road.
Nara took one step back.
The motorcycle continued on.
In front of the repair shop, the boy who usually watered the plants was sitting on a short bench. His plastic water bottle lay beside him.
Nara passed him without saying anything.
7:13 a.m.
She arrived in front of Sinar Ja Photocopy.
The door was still closed.
This time, she didn’t feel worried.
Two minutes later, Mr. Hendra arrived.
“Morning.”
“Morning, sir.”
“Had breakfast?”
“Yeah.”
Mr. Hendra opened the door.
“Good. Then I don’t have to provide food.”
Nara went inside.
“You provided it yesterday?”
“No. I just bought extra rice.”
“Then you provided it.”
Mr. Hendra looked at her for a moment.
“You’re starting to talk more.”
Nara didn’t answer.
But she smiled faintly.
The second day turned out not to be any easier.
It just didn’t feel as unfamiliar.
Nara knew how to turn on the main machine. She knew where the A4 and F4 paper was kept. She knew the cleaning cloth was in the bottom drawer, not on the back shelf.
She was also beginning to recognize the machines’ sounds.
When the hum changed slightly, Nara turned at once.
Mr. Hendra was counting money at the desk.
“Paper?”
“Looks like it.”
Nara checked the side of the machine.
He was right.
The paper was almost gone.
She replaced it before the machine stopped.
Mr. Hendra watched from a distance.
“Good.”
Nara didn’t answer.
She simply returned to the desk.
At nine, a college student came in with a flash drive.
“Miss, can you print this?”
“Sure.”
“It’s a PDF.”
“How many pages?”
“Sixteen.”
“Color?”
“Black and white.”
“Two copies.”
Nara nodded.
She inserted the flash drive into the computer.
File names appeared on the screen.
Nara searched for the file he meant.
There were three files with nearly identical names.
She turned to the student.
“This one?”
“The last one.”
Nara clicked it.
“Sixteen pages?”
“Yeah.”
“Two copies?”
“Yeah.”
Nara printed the first page.
She checked it.
Nothing was cut off.
She continued.
The pages came out one after another.
The job was simple.
But Nara still felt the need to check every sheet.
When she finished, the student paid.
“Thank you, miss.”
Nara nodded.
“You’re welcome.”
After the student left, Mr. Hendra said, “See?”
Nara turned.
“What?”
“No one got angry.”
Nara looked back at the computer screen.
“Was someone supposed to?”
“No.”
Mr. Hendra continued counting money.
“But you look like you were waiting for it.”
Nara didn’t answer.
She knew what he meant.
Every time someone sighed, raised their voice a little, or glanced at the clock, her body immediately braced itself for something.
She had grown used to the possibility that one small mistake meant she wasn’t good enough.
At her old store, that was never discussed.
It hadn’t been discussed here either.
But for some reason, Mr. Hendra didn’t make Nara feel like she had to be perfect.
Maybe because the man himself often forgot where he’d put things.
At 11:15, a customer came in carrying a stack of documents.
“One hundred copies.”
Nara looked at the papers.
“Black and white?”
“Yeah.”
“Bound?”
“No.”
“Double-sided?”
“Yeah.”
Mr. Hendra was helping another customer.
Nara prepared the machine.
She counted the sheets, adjusted the size, then selected the double-sided setting.
Before pressing the start button, she checked once more.
The customer tapped the desk with his finger.
“Can you hurry?”
Nara turned.
“Sure.”
She pressed the button.
The machine started working.
The first sheet came out.
Nara checked it.
It was right.
She let the machine run.
For the first time since she’d started working there, she didn’t feel the need to stand too close to the machine, as though it would make a mistake if she didn’t watch it.
She took one step back.
Then another.
The customer stopped tapping the desk.
Nara let out a breath.
In the corner of the shop, Mr. Hendra watched her.
He said nothing.
That was better.
At lunchtime, Nara opened the food ma’am Sari had packed.
Rice and stir-fried water spinach.
She ate in the back of the shop with Mr. Hendra.
“Can you handle work like this?” Mr. Hendra asked.
Nara raised her head.
“Work like what?”
“Standing, lifting paper, dealing with people.”
“I used to work at a store.”
“Then you know.”
Nara nodded.
Mr. Hendra took a drink of water.
“If anything makes you uncomfortable, tell me.”
Nara stopped eating.
“Uncomfortable how?”
“Any way.”
“For example?”
Mr. Hendra thought about it.
“For example, if a customer gets angry.”
Nara lowered her head.
“What if I’m wrong?”
“If you’re wrong, fix it.”
“What if the customer’s still angry?”
“Then they’re angry.”
Nara looked at him.
Mr. Hendra shrugged.
“You can’t control everyone.”
The sentence was simple.
But Nara remembered it.
She often spent her energy making sure other people weren’t disappointed.
Even though sometimes people were disappointed anyway, no matter how careful she was.
At two, a customer came in hurriedly.
“Sir, can this be done now?”
Mr. Hendra was in the back.
Nara accepted the documents.
“How many copies?”
“Ten.”
“Color?”
“Color.”
Nara looked at the color machine.
Its light was on.
She loaded the paper.
But when the first copy came out, the color at the top looked too dark.
Nara furrowed her brow.
She checked the settings.
One option was wrong.
She changed it.
Then printed it again.
This time, the result was better.
The customer took the documents.
“How much?”
Nara told him the amount.
The customer paid and left.
There was no problem.
Nara stared at the machine for a few seconds.
Only then did she realize her hands weren’t shaking.
At five, the shop began to empty out.
Mr. Hendra shut down the machines one by one.
Nara swept the floor.
Paper dust gathered in the corner.
When she was done, she threw it in the trash.
“Coming tomorrow?” Mr. Hendra asked.
Nara looked at the clock.
7:15.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t need to ask again?”
Nara shook her head.
“No.”
Mr. Hendra smiled.
“Good.”
Nara picked up her bag.
Before leaving, she took the black umbrella out of it.
“Here.”
Mr. Hendra accepted it.
“It’s stopped raining.”
“I still want to return it.”
“You could’ve returned it tomorrow.”
Nara shook her head.
“If I keep it, I’ll forget later.”
Mr. Hendra let out a small laugh.
“All right.”
Nara stepped outside.
The sky was beginning to change color.
It wasn’t dark yet.
She could go straight home.
But there was one place she hadn’t visited yet.
The minimart.
Nara walked there.
The striped cat wasn’t out front.
She walked around the building.
Nothing.
She waited near a stack of cardboard boxes.
There was no sound.
Nara took the food out of her bag.
She poured it into the lid of a container.
A few minutes later, the cat appeared.
The fur around its ears was cleaner now. Its wound looked like it was drying up.
Nara watched it.
“You’re doing better.”
The cat ate.
Nara sat down.
Today, she wanted to tell the cat something.
But she didn’t know what.
In the end, she said, “I didn’t make many mistakes today.”
The cat didn’t raise its head.
“Just almost.”
Nara smiled faintly.
Her phone buzzed.
Raka: Done with work?
Nara replied:
Yeah.
Raka: Tired?
Nara looked at the soles of her feet.
Nara: Yeah.
Raka: Want to eat first?
Nara: I brought a packed lunch.
Raka: Finished it?
Nara: All gone.
Raka: Good.
Nara typed:
I didn’t make many mistakes today.
She stared at the sentence.
For some reason, it felt like something she wanted to tell him.
She sent it.
Raka replied:
That means you’re starting to get the hang of it.
Nara: Yeah.
Raka: Do you like the job?
Nara didn’t answer right away.
She looked at the cat in front of her.
Then at the little shop in the distance.
She still didn’t know if she liked it.
The work was tiring. Standing all day made her feet hurt. The machines were noisy. Some customers were impatient. The pay wasn’t much either.
But tomorrow, she knew where she had to go.
Nara typed:
I don’t know yet.
Raka: That’s okay.
Nara: But I want to come again tomorrow.
The message was sent.
Raka didn’t answer right away.
Nara waited.
A few seconds later:
Raka: I know.
Nara stared at those two words.
This time, she smiled.
The striped cat finished eating.
It stood, stretched, then walked toward the stack of cardboard boxes.
Nara watched until it disappeared.
“See you tomorrow,” she said.
She stood up.
On the way home, Nara stopped at a small store that sold household supplies.
She looked at several plastic containers.
Some were cheap.
She picked one up.
Then she looked at the price.
Nara counted the money in her wallet.
She put it back.
Not yet.
Later, when she had enough money.
At the boarding house, ma’am Sari was sweeping the common room.
“You’re home?”
“Yeah.”
“The umbrella?”
“I returned it.”
“How was work?”
Nara took off her shoes.
“A little easier.”
Ma’am Sari stopped sweeping.
“A little?”
Nara nodded.
“I’m still going tomorrow.”
“Good.”
Ma’am Sari went back to sweeping.
There were no congratulations.
No long advice.
Only the sound of the broom moving across the floor.
Nara went into her room.
She washed her feet, changed clothes, then sat on the edge of the bed.
The soles of her feet still hurt.
She massaged them for a while.
Then she opened her wallet.
The transportation money was still there.
Her food money had gone down.
The balance in her account hadn’t changed much.
She opened her banking app.
The number still made her think.
Her first paycheck was still a long way off.
The room rent was getting closer.
The electricity bill still wasn’t fully covered.
There were many things left unfinished.
Nara closed the app.
She couldn’t solve everything tonight.
Her phone lit up on the table.
A message from Raka.
Raka: Have you eaten?
Nara smiled faintly.
She replied:
Not yet.
Three dots appeared.
Raka: Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep first.
Nara: I’m not sleepy yet.
Raka: Eat.
Nara: Yeah.
Raka: Seriously?
Nara: Seriously.
Nara stood up.
She went to the kitchen and took the rice that was still left.
Ma’am Sari had already gone into her room.
The kitchen was lit by a single small lamp above the table.
Nara heated the rice.
The old microwave hummed.
Outside, a motorcycle passed through the alley.
Someone laughed in the room next door.
The gate was shut.
Nara sat alone and ate.
It tasted ordinary.
Rice.
Egg.
A little chili sauce.
But that night, she finished it without feeling like she had to force herself.
Afterward, she washed the plate and returned to her room.
She turned on the light.
Nara opened the notes on her phone.
Buy cat food tomorrow. Go to the store tomorrow. Wake up tomorrow. Reply to Raka's message tomorrow. Come again today.
She crossed out the last sentence.
Then wrote:
Come again tomorrow.
Nara looked at the list.
Then added a small sentence beneath it.
If it rains, bring an umbrella.
She remembered Mr. Hendra’s umbrella.
Already returned.
She deleted the sentence.
In its place, she wrote:
Bring transportation money.
Nara smiled faintly.
More important.
She set her phone beside her pillow.
The room light was still on.
Usually, she turned it off before sleeping to save on the electricity bill.
Her hand had almost reached the switch when she stopped.
She looked around the small room.
The folding table.
The plastic wardrobe.
The chair with her work clothes.
Her shoes near the door.
The empty water bottle.
Not much had changed.
But something was different.
Tomorrow at 7:15, she knew she would be somewhere else.
Nara turned off the light.
The room went dark.
Outside the window, she heard the sound of a motorcycle moving away.
Then water dripping from the gutter.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Nara closed her eyes.
She still didn’t know how long the job would last.
She didn’t know whether the pay would be enough.
She didn’t know whether her relationship with Raka would return to the way it used to be or change into something completely different.
She didn’t know whether the striped cat would still be behind the minimart next week.
Many things were still uncertain.
But for the first time, that uncertainty didn’t feel entirely like a threat.
There were a few things she could do tomorrow.
Wake up.
Eat.
Walk to work.
Work.
Go home.
Buy cat food if she had enough money.
And maybe reply to someone’s message.
Nara pulled the blanket up to her shoulders.
Tomorrow still hadn’t arrived.
For tonight, she didn’t need to think too far ahead.
Just until 7:15.
Then one more day.