Chapter 11 - The Review Board and an Unexpected Ally

The progress evaluation for the cross-department collaboration project, scheduled for ten in the morning in the classical music department's review room, felt to Michi like nothing short of a public execution. Behind a long, glossy varnished table, Professor Hendra—the head supervising faculty member, famous across the department for being unbendingly strict and relentlessly perfectionist—sat with his gold-framed glasses slipping down toward the tip of his nose.

To Michi's right, Rimba sat with a posture so casual it bordered on inappropriate for a formal academic forum. He wore a loose-collared white shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, a perfect contrast to Michi's neat cream cardigan and gray midi skirt beside him.

"Your initial arrangement does show a bold experimental streak," Professor Hendra's baritone voice broke the silence as he flipped through a page of digital notation printed onto heavy cardstock. "But the transition section, bars twenty-five through thirty... to be blunt, it's too wild for our conservatory's standards. Too loud."

Michi opened her mouth at once, fully prepared to launch into an academic explanation defending the rhythmic concept. But before a single word could make it past her lips, Rimba had already beaten her to it.

"With respect, Professor," Rimba's voice flowed out calm and steady, carrying a confidence that made Professor Hendra actually look up from the page. "That wild element is precisely the point of a cross-department collaboration like this. We want to show that the line between classical and modern doesn't have to be about one killing the other—it can be about the two of them devouring each other whole."

Michi blinked, caught off guard for a moment. That explanation... sounded exactly like the argument they'd hashed out together last night in the basement studio. Hearing Rimba deliver their shared musical argument so smoothly, so flawlessly, in front of a senior professor sent an odd little flutter through her chest. A flicker of unwelcome pride she immediately shoved back down, hard.

Professor Hendra fell silent for a moment, stroking his chin as he studied the score sheet with a sharp, appraising eye. "Hmm... an interesting argument, from a modern-composition standpoint. Very well. I'll give the two of you one more week to refine that transition section. But remember—don't you dare tarnish this conservatory's dignity in the process."

"Yes, Professor. Thank you," Rimba answered politely, though the mischievous glint in his eyes hadn't dimmed even slightly.

Once the evaluation session ended and they were dismissed from the review room, Michi walked out with her head still full of a warmth she was reluctant to name—something far more complicated than simple relief at having survived the evaluation.

But her steps came to a stop the moment she reached the second-floor corridor. Anindya was already standing there, leaning casually against the wall with a cup of bottled coffee in hand, as if she'd been waiting on purpose.

"Well, well. Walking out together from the review room." Anindya smiled, her eyes flicking back and forth between Michi and Rimba, who had just caught up from behind. "You two have gotten pretty inseparable lately. So much so that even the opera vocal students have started wondering—apparently the two of you have been spotted walking home from campus together at night more than a few times."

Michi went rigid, working hard to keep her expression flat. "We're just finishing up the project, Kak Nin. Nothing more than that."

"Oh, I believe you." Anindya's smile widened, her tone light but dripping with implication. "It's just a little strange to me, that's all—the most disciplined pianist in the whole department suddenly starting to walk home well past curfew. Especially since I heard she sometimes even walks alone all the way toward Tirtodipuran."

"If anyone's curious about Michi's schedule, they should ask me directly."

Rimba's voice cutting in caught Anindya slightly off guard. He stepped forward, positioning himself beside Michi with a firmness far sharper than his usual demeanor—no longer teasing, but something that felt distinctly protective.

"Our schedule's packed because of the demands of the dean's project, not because of anything that needs to become gossip material for students from other faculties," Rimba continued, his tone flat but cutting. "If you're genuinely curious about the details of our collaboration process, I'd be more than happy to walk you through it, in front of anyone who asks—the dean's office included, if it comes to that."

Anindya raised both hands, laughing lightly as if entirely unbothered. "Whoa, relax, I was just making conversation. No need to get so defensive." She glanced at her watch. "Well, I'll get going. See you around, Michi."

The moment Anindya disappeared around the far end of the corridor, Michi let out the long breath she'd been holding, her body sagging slightly against the wall behind her.

"You didn't need to do that," Michi murmured quietly, glancing at Rimba, who was still standing beside her.

"Do what?" Rimba turned toward her, one eyebrow raised.

"Defend me in front of Kak Nin. That's not your business."

Rimba went quiet for a moment, sliding both hands into his pockets and staring straight ahead instead of looking at her. "Maybe not directly my business," he finally said, his voice quieter than usual, stripped of the teasing tone that was always his favorite mask. "But I don't like watching someone corner you with cheap gossip like that, especially when it leaves you standing scared and alone the way you were last night in the parking lot."

Michi studied him for a long moment, not sure how to respond. For the first time, it occurred to her that Rimba—the arrogant guy she'd spent all this time treating as the single most annoying source of trouble on campus—might have already started, without her fully registering it, to stand beside her rather than simply against her.

The thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit, and she found herself unable to look away from him a second longer than she should have. Somewhere on the walk back to the harmony classroom, she realized her chest still hadn't stopped that strange, stubborn flutter it had started earlier in the review room—and she wasn't entirely sure, anymore, that it had only been pride.