Chapter 24 - In Plain Sight

The midday sun reflected sharp and bright across the campus's main courtyard, making the row of angsana trees lining the footpath shimmer under the light. Hours like this were usually reserved for Michi's time in the central library, tucked into the quietest corner she could find, wrapped around a stack of thick classical music encyclopedias, making absolutely sure her presence never caught anyone's eye. It was a habit she'd built so carefully, over so many years, that she'd never once had to think about it—until today, when following it would have meant letting go of Rimba's hand first.

But today, her footsteps carried her down the main walkway with an entirely different rhythm altogether.

Beside her, Rimba walked with one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his leather jacket, while his other hand held her fingers tightly.

The contrast was too obvious for anyone passing by to ignore. Michi, in her cream knit cardigan, neat black midi skirt, and the aura of a model student known for years as cold and entirely untouchable. On her right, Rimba—the campus band's vocalist, with his careless style, a piercing in his left ear, and a sling bag that looked thrown together at best.

The whispers that had once been nothing more than a faint hum in the corridors now turned into open, unguarded stares from other students. A few underclassmen even stopped walking altogether, mouths slightly parted, unable to believe the rare sight in front of them.

Michi felt her old reflex flare up for a moment—the urge to pull her hand back, straighten her clothes, or quicken her pace to escape the spotlight. But before that hesitation could redirect her steps, the grip on her fingers tightened, as if offering her something solid to hold onto in the middle of a storm of attention she'd spent her whole life trying never to attract.

Rimba glanced over briefly, catching the small flicker of doubt on her face out of the corner of his eye. Without slowing his pace, he lifted their loosely joined hands into the air, as if deliberately showing the entire campus that there was nothing left worth hiding behind the shadow of that basement studio anymore.

"What, scared your aesthetic score's going to drop from being seen walking around with a scruffy band kid?" Rimba whispered, his tone thick with mischief, though the corner of his mouth curved into the calmest, most reassuring smile in the world.

Michi let out a soft huff, shaking off the nervous flutter in her chest with a long, steadying breath. She lifted her chin, staring straight ahead with an elegant tilt of her head—no longer the cold, defensive expression she used to wear, but the absolute calm of someone who had finally freed herself from her own pride.

"It's not my aesthetic score that's dropping," Michi replied evenly, her voice clear against the midday wind. "It's the campus cafeteria's reputation that's going to be buzzing all day, now that someone's finally proven they can stand walking beside you for more than five minutes without starting a fight."

Rimba laughed easily, that deep baritone sound drawing even more curious glances their way. "Let them buzz all they want. Everyone's been dying to know for ages who the guy is that could finally wreck an Arunika's perfectly rigid score sheet."

They kept walking side by side, passing through the main lobby toward a small café across the street from campus—the exact spot Michi used to avoid on principle, precisely because it was always crowded. This time, though, she didn't reach for the corner table hidden behind the potted plants the way she usually would. She chose the seats near the large glass window facing straight out onto the main road, letting the sunlight fall directly across both their faces without any barrier between them and the world, without a single thought spared for who might see them from the sidewalk outside.

A café server came by with the menu a moment later, though neither of them opened it right away. Rimba ordered two cups of black coffee in an easy, unhurried tone, his eyes never once leaving Michi's face, as if he kept finding something new and endlessly worth watching in every passing second. Outside, the flow of traffic and the murmur of students drifted in faintly through the thick glass, as if the outside world had entirely lost its power to disturb the new calm the two of them now shared.

Michi took a sip of water from the glass in front of her, feeling a warmth spread through her that came from somewhere deeper than the drink itself—from an inner certainty that now, fully, settled her chest.

For the first time, Michi felt the outside world no longer demanded that she perform flawlessly through every single measure of her life. And across from her, Rimba proved that falling in love didn't always have to follow some complicated set of rules; sometimes, all it took was the courage to hold someone's hand under the blaze of the afternoon sun, and let the whole world see that the two of you had finally chosen to walk the same path.

They stayed there a while longer after the coffee arrived, talking about nothing in particular—which songs Bara had butchered in rehearsal, whether Professor Hendra would ever loosen up before graduation, whether the campus gossip would still be interesting by the following week. It was an ordinary conversation, the kind Michi had never once allowed herself to have with anyone, out in the open, unguarded, without a single calculation running underneath it about what it might cost her later. For once, being seen didn't feel like exposure. It felt, strangely, like relief—like setting down a weight she hadn't fully realized she'd been carrying for years, one table, one glass window, one held hand at a time. By the time they finally stood to leave, the coffee long gone cold, neither of them had once glanced toward the door to check who might be watching.