Nara woke to the sound of rain tapping on the corrugated metal roof behind the boarding house.
She didn’t open her eyes right away.
The sound came at regular intervals, then grew denser as the wind moved across the yard. From the room next door came the sound of someone dragging a chair. A bathroom door opened, then closed again.
Nara reached for her phone.
5:21 a.m.
There were still twenty-four minutes before her alarm.
She turned it off before it could ring.
Today was Tuesday.
She stared at the ceiling of her room for a while. Her legs still felt sore from yesterday. They didn’t hurt as much as they had the night before, but enough to make her think twice before standing.
On the table, the transportation money from Mr. Hendra was still tucked into a separate section of her wallet.
The five-hundred-rupiah coin was still beside her phone.
Nara picked up the coin and put it in her wallet.
Then she opened her notes.
Buy cat food tomorrow. Go to the store tomorrow. Wake up tomorrow. Answer Raka’s message tomorrow. Come again tomorrow.
She read the last line.
Come again today.
Nara changed it.
Work today.
Shorter.
She stood.
In the kitchen, Sari had already prepared hot water.
“Your legs?”
Nara stopped.
“What about them?”
“You walked like someone who’d just fallen last night.”
“It’s nothing.”
Sari looked at her for a moment.
“Your shoes?”
“They’re still here.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Nara looked down. “I can still wear them.”
Sari said nothing else. She only opened a cabinet and took something out.
A sheet of old newspaper, folded several times.
“Put this in your shoe.”
Nara furrowed her brow.
“What for?”
“So your heel won’t hit the hard part directly.”
Nara accepted the newspaper.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Try it first.”
Nara gave a faint smile.
She had rice and an omelet for breakfast before leaving. Not much. Enough to keep her stomach from being empty.
As she was about to leave, Sari said, “If it rains, don’t force yourself to get home quickly.”
“I’m taking a minibus.”
“You’ll still get wet if it rains.”
Nara nodded.
“Call me if you need someone to pick you up.”
Nara didn’t answer.
Sari didn’t repeat herself.
Outside, the rain had stopped. The streets were wet and full of small puddles. Nara walked carefully so the hems of her pants wouldn’t get splashed.
She arrived at the copy shop at 7:11 a.m.
Mr. Hendra had already opened the door.
“Morning.”
“Morning, sir.”
“Get enough sleep?”
“Enough.”
Mr. Hendra looked at Nara’s shoes.
“You’re wearing newspaper?”
Nara fell silent.
“It shows.”
“Sari told me to.”
“Makes sense.”
Nara put her bag on a chair.
The second day felt different.
Yesterday, everything had looked like something she needed to memorize. Today, some of it already had a place in her mind.
A4 paper on the top shelf.
F4 paper below it.
Ink in the small cabinet.
The large stapler beside the printer.
The trash can beneath the desk.
She knew the green button on the main machine. She knew which light to wait for before using it. She knew to check the first copy.
Those small things made the place feel a little less unfamiliar.
The first customer arrived at 8:10.
“Print this ten copies.”
Nara took the flash drive.
“Color or black and white?”
“Black and white.”
“What size?”
“A4.”
Nara nodded.
Yesterday, she probably would have asked Mr. Hendra.
Today, she tried it herself.
A few minutes later, ten sheets of paper came out neatly.
Nara arranged them and handed them over.
“How much?”
She looked at the price list on the wall.
“Eight thousand.”
The customer paid and left.
Nara put the money in the cash box.
No mistakes.
She didn’t know why such a small thing made her chest feel a little lighter.
At nine, the shop started getting busy.
A college student printed a thesis.
A woman asked to have a form copied.
A man came to print a job application.
“Can you do it now?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Nara took the flash drive.
She opened the requested file.
The document’s name consisted of only a few words.
Job Application Letter.
Nara paused for a moment.
“What’s wrong?”
Mr. Hendra was standing behind her.
“Nothing.”
She printed the document.
One sheet.
Two sheets.
Three sheets.
The man checked the copies.
“Thank you.”
Nara nodded.
The sentence was simple.
But she remembered it longer than she should have.
After the customer left, Mr. Hendra asked, “Have you ever looked for work here?”
“I have.”
“Did you get it?”
“No.”
“Now you’re working here.”
Nara didn’t know how to answer.
Mr. Hendra went back to the machine.
“Not bad.”
Nara lowered her head and looked at the desk.
“Not bad,” she repeated softly.
Toward noon, the rain started falling again.
Fewer customers came in. Some people chose to wait until the rain let up. The road in front of the shop grew quieter.
Nara sat on a plastic chair and opened her packet of rice.
Mr. Hendra was fixing a printer that had suddenly stopped pulling in paper.
“What if it’s broken?”
“Try it first.”
“What if it still doesn’t work?”
“Call a technician.”
“What if the technician is expensive?”
Mr. Hendra looked at her.
“Why are you asking so many questions today?”
Nara lowered her head.
“I don’t know.”
Mr. Hendra turned back to the printer.
“If everything that breaks has to be thrown away right away, I wouldn’t have a shop anymore.”
Nara ate slowly.
She wasn’t sure Mr. Hendra was talking about the printer.
Her phone buzzed.
Raka: Raining?
Nara: Yeah.
Raka: At work?
Nara: Yeah.
Raka: Have you eaten?
Nara: I’m eating.
Raka: Good.
Nara stared at the screen.
She typed:
What about you?
She didn’t send it.
She deleted it.
A few seconds later, a new message appeared.
Raka: I’ll eat later.
Nara read the sentence.
She typed:
Don’t forget.
Her fingers stopped.
The sentence felt too familiar.
She sent it anyway.
Raka replied:
Raka: Yeah.
Nara slipped her phone into her pocket.
The rain hadn’t stopped.
At two, a woman came in carrying a stack of documents.
“Can you bind these today?”
Nara calculated quickly.
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“About an hour.”
The woman looked at her watch.
“Okay.”
Nara got to work.
Fifteen minutes later, she found a wrong page.
She drew a breath.
Yesterday, she probably would have panicked.
Today, she picked up the document, checked the page number, and opened the original file.
One page was, in fact, different.
Nara called Mr. Hendra.
“Sir, this one needs to be replaced.”
Mr. Hendra looked at it.
“That’s right.”
“So I reprint it?”
“Yeah.”
Nara nodded.
No raised voices.
No one blamed her.
She replaced the page and continued working.
When everything was finished, the woman came back.
She checked the document.
“Neat.”
Nara nodded.
“Thank you.”
“Sure.”
The woman left.
Mr. Hendra looked at the clock.
“Two days.”
Nara turned to him.
“What?”
“You haven’t apologized every five minutes anymore.”
Nara had only just realized it.
She smiled faintly.
“Maybe I’m starting to know what’s actually wrong.”
“Good.”
Nara looked at the photocopier.
This time, the word didn’t feel like pressure.
Just an observation.
Toward five, the rain stopped.
Mr. Hendra closed the shop a little early because the last customer had already left.
He counted the cash.
Then he took something out of a drawer.
A small envelope.
“Here.”
Nara didn’t take it right away.
“What is it?”
“Food money.”
“I already ate.”
“For tomorrow.”
Nara looked at the envelope.
“You don’t have to, sir.”
Mr. Hendra set it on the table.
“It’s not a loan.”
Nara was silent.
“If you don’t want it, save it for transportation.”
Nara took it.
“Thank you.”
Mr. Hendra nodded.
“Don’t say thank you so often.”
“Why?”
“Then I’ll start feeling like I’ve done a lot.”
Nara smiled.
Outside, the streets were still wet.
She walked to the convenience store before going home.
The tabby cat was nowhere to be seen.
Nara waited behind the building.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
She opened the packet of food and poured it into the lid of the container.
There was no meowing.
Nara sat down.
The food remained untouched.
She checked the gap between the cardboard boxes.
Nothing.
Maybe the cat was hiding.
Maybe it had gone somewhere else.
Maybe it would come later.
Nara stood and was about to leave the food when something moved beneath the bench.
A small head appeared.
The cat came out slowly.
The fur around its neck was still messy, but the wound near its ear looked drier.
“You’re late.”
The cat came closer.
Nara sat down again.
“So am I.”
She watched the food gradually disappear.
“Today I didn’t make many mistakes.”
The cat kept eating.
“I can use the machine by myself.”
She paused.
“A little.”
Her phone buzzed.
Raka: Done?
Nara: Done.
Raka: Want me to pick you up?
Nara looked at the road in front of the convenience store.
Nara: No need.
Raka: Okay.
The conversation ended there.
Nara stared at the screen for a while.
She didn’t feel disappointed.
Only something quiet.
She slipped her phone into her pocket.
After the cat finished eating, Nara stood and carried its container with her.
The sky was beginning to darken.
On the way home, she passed her old store.
The lights were on.
The new employee she’d seen yesterday was closing the drinks shelf. This time, Nara didn’t stop.
She only looked for a moment, then kept walking.
At the boarding house, Sari was ironing clothes.
“You’re home.”
“Yeah.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
Sari pointed to the table.
There was a plate of rice and an omelet.
Nara sat down.
“Your legs?”
“Better.”
“Your shoes?”
“Still alive.”
Sari laughed softly.
Nara smiled too.
After eating, she washed the plate and returned to her room.
She opened the small envelope from Mr. Hendra.
There wasn’t much money.
But it was enough for two or three simple meals.
She divided the money in her wallet again.
Food.
Transportation.
Electricity.
There was no other section.
Nara opened her phone notes.
Buy cat food tomorrow. Go to the store tomorrow. Wake up tomorrow. Answer Raka’s message tomorrow. Come again tomorrow.
She crossed out “Come again tomorrow.”
Then she wrote:
Come again Wednesday.
She stared at it.
The word “Wednesday” felt different.
More real.
She opened her conversation with Raka.
The last message was still about him picking her up.
Nara typed:
Thank you.
She didn’t send it.
She deleted the two words.
Then she typed:
Today I can use the machine by myself.
She sent it.
Raka’s reply came a few minutes later.
Raka: I knew you could.
Nara read the message.
There were several things she wanted to say.
About the envelope from Mr. Hendra.
About the cat that had arrived late.
About the woman who said her binding looked neat.
About the fear she’d felt the first time she held the machine.
About how long two days could feel when someone was trying to start over.
But all of it was too much for a single message.
She typed:
I’m tired.
Raka replied:
Raka: Sleep.
Nara:
Yeah.
She set her phone down.
The room light was still on.
Usually, she would have turned it off sooner.
Tonight, she let it stay on for a few more minutes.
Outside, a motorcycle passed along the road in front of the boarding house.
Someone laughed at the end of the alley.
Water from the roof continued dripping into the yard.
Nara sat on the edge of the bed.
She had to come again tomorrow.
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 body would get used to standing.
She didn’t know whether Raka would keep messaging her every night.
But tonight, there were a few things she could count.
Two days of work.
One mistake she had managed to fix.
One cat that had come back.
One small envelope in her wallet.
And one message she had finally sent without deleting it.
I’m tired.
Nara turned off the light.
The room went dark.
For a few seconds, she heard only the sounds of the neighborhood outside.
Then her phone buzzed once.
Raka: Get plenty of rest, Nar.
Nara read the message in the light of the screen.
She didn’t reply.
Not because she didn’t want to.
She was simply too tired.
For the first time, Nara let a message go unanswered without feeling like she had to explain why.
She placed her phone beside her pillow.
Tomorrow would still come.
And this time, Nara didn’t have to wait for it in fear.
She only had to wake up.