I didn't expect it to feel like this.
Hearing stories about my past, my relationships—it's… comforting. Like finding a puzzle piece you didn't know was missing and realizing it fits perfectly. I laughed at moments I don't even remember. Felt proud of the things I apparently did. And for a brief moment, I wasn't lost. I was… me.
Najam's stories helped. More than he probably realizes. His words painted pictures—of friends, of memories I left behind. I may not recall those scenes, but they made me feel connected. Real.
But as much as I want to linger in that feeling, I know I can't stay here.
There's still more to uncover—more gaps to fill to make sure that I can save them from the future. And something tells me the next answers aren't in my own class. They're waiting just beyond—among the seniors in Class 95.
"Okay, thanks! All the info you gave me was really helpful," I said gratefully.
"Yup. So, what are you going to do now?" he asked curiously.
"Well, I know my memory is important, but there's something else I need to look into."
"Hm? What is it?"
"I want to find out more about the seniors from Class 95."
"Whoa, what's going on?" he asked with interest.
"I don't know. I just feel like I need to learn more about them," I replied seriously.
"Wait, don't tell me—did someone there catch your eye?" he said, suspicious.
"Um… well, when you put it that way, for some reason it gives me a bad feeling," I answered nervously.
"Relax, man. I got your back. Sometimes you just need a change of scenery. You're probably just bored of seeing the same faces. It's totally fine to check out other girls. Don't worry—after that, you'll realize how precious the girl next to you is. I support you, buddy," he said like a know-it-all.
"Honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, come on. I know you and Betania are having a fight, so now you're just looking for a distraction, hehe."
"Hm… well, you're not entirely wrong. But there's one thing I need to make clear: I'm doing all this for her," I said firmly.
"Okay, okay. Let me come with you then. If you're heading to Class 95, I know someone there."
"Ng, who?"
"Caraka. Caraka Gunawan. He used to be my manager and trainer back in middle school. Thanks to him, I've got my current skills."
Okay, that's unexpected.
"And there's also one senior I want to meet," he continued.
"Ng, who's that?"
"You know Sabrina? Sabrina Farida."
"Oh, the school's rock band singer," I recalled.
"Yeah. I think if I want to learn how to play an instrument, I could talk to her. I'm sure she could give me good, helpful advice," he said, full of expectations.
Hm, forgive me, Najam... but if I remember correctly, Sabrina is amazing—but in a very different way.
"Um..."
"What is it?"
"Well, it's fine. So let's get started," I said seriously.
"So who's our target?"
"Hm... how about Sabrina?"
"Wow, you really are my best friend," he replied excitedly.
"Let's go then."
Najam and I hurried out of the classroom.
"Wait, do you even know where to find her?" he asked.
"I heard she usually spends her time in the music room, so let's check there," I replied.
"Ooh, let's go! I can't wait to meet her," he said enthusiastically.
We headed to the music room. When we arrived in front of it, I suddenly had a bad feeling.
"Ijam, are you sure this is the right place?" I asked to be sure.
"Well, yeah."
"I see... but for some reason, I've got a really bad feeling," I said, a little panicked.
"Hm, me too."
I could hear strange sounds coming from inside, and it gave me chills.
"Well, we won't know unless we go in," he said.
"Yeah, let's go."
I knocked on the door.
After waiting a while, there was no response.
"No answer?" I asked, puzzled.
"Try again."
I knocked once more, but just like before, there was no response from inside.
"Hm... okay, this is weird," he said.
Najam grabbed the doorknob and tried opening it.
"Ng."
"What is it?" I asked.
"The door's not locked. We can go in," he said as he opened it.
"Well, let's go in."
We entered. As soon as we stepped inside, I noticed the windows were covered with black cloth, blocking all outside light.
"Um... why is it so dark in here?"
"No idea. Ng, Sahabi—look at the stage!" Najam shouted, pointing toward the stage in the far corner.
I looked toward the stage and noticed someone standing motionless there. Suddenly, a spotlight came on and shined directly on them.
"Khukhukhu," the person on the stage laughed hoarsely.
I froze in panic. At first, I thought it couldn't be her, but after seeing long, vivid pink hair styled in thick, dynamic twin-tails that spike outward with a dark purple bomber jacket with silver zipper details—I knew for sure. It was Sabrina.
She turns around and spins on her boot with perfect control. One hand slid through her hair as she tilted her head, lips curling into a knowing smile that said she was ten steps ahead of everyone. Her other hand rested on her hip, elbow angled just right like she'd struck the pose a thousand times but never for anyone else. Light caught the edge of her headphones as she glanced sideways, eyes gleaming with a mix of challenge and style. It wasn't just a pose—it was an entrance, a snapshot mid-scene like the hallway was her runway and everyone else was just background.
"I didn't expect the time would come when I could perform with a team again. Hey, you two!" Sabrina shouted from the stage, pointing at us.
"Ng," we both responded nervously.
"Get up here, we're about to start—so get ready!" she continued.
"Um, sorry, but I don't get why we're supposed to be on stage," I replied in confusion.
"Huh? Weren't you coming to play with me today?" Sabrina asked, puzzled.
"Well, I wanted to, but I think you've got the wrong person," Najam said, disappointed.
"Oh, really? Then you came to listen to me play, huh?" she said cheerfully.
"Hm, that might be true," Najam replied happily.
"Shit, Ijam—no!" I whispered.
"Why? This is a great chance to get a private concert from the famous rock star," he whispered back.
This is bad. I accidentally saw her concert during a purification program, and it was a total disaster. Sure, she's talented—but her music was terrifying. It twisted emotions—blending happiness and sadness in a chaotic mess. Her style is... eccentric.
"You don't know what you're getting into," I said in panic.
"Relax, buddy. It's not like we're going to die from this," he replied, trying to calm me.
"Well… we might," I said, worried.
Suddenly, she stomped onto the stage and appeared to be holding her guitar.
"Okay, no more arguing! Let me show you the spirit of hell that can bring peace to the world!" Sabrina shouted passionately.
"Woohoo!" Najam cheered.
"Man, you're going to regret this," I said, depressed.
She started screaming—and playing.
Damn, I've got to cover my ears.
I cupped my hands over them.
I could still hear a little, but it was bearable… for now.
At first, Najam looked thrilled, but after a few minutes, his face started to pale. That's when I knew—he'd hit his limit.
"Man, help me!"
"Don't come near me!" I shouted.
"Stop her!" he screamed, trying to pull my hands away.
"What are you doing?! Don't pull my hands!"
"We're buddies, right? Then you should hear this properly," he said, laughing.
Damn. He's lost it.
"No, stop!"
He yanked my hands off my ears—and suddenly, I heard the music clearly.
"Oh shit."
I tried to stay conscious, but after a few minutes of enduring it, I saw Najam collapse to the floor.
Well... it can't be helped.
A moment later, I collapsed too.