Chapter 50 - A House That Opens Its Door

Three days after Michi's return from Vienna, that afternoon's Yogyakarta sky glowed a purplish orange—the exact same color as the first time Rimba had driven Michi home after a long rehearsal in the basement studio, however many months ago that now felt like an entire century. The difference was, this time the car carrying them wasn't headed toward Tirtodipuran, alive with indie music and the smell of coffee, but toward the quiet, shaded neighborhood of Sagan, full of Michi's own childhood memories.

Rimba gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. For the first time since Michi had known him, the composer famous for staying calm under any amount of stage pressure looked nervous—shoulders tense, jaw set, occasionally glancing at the rearview mirror just to make sure his appearance still looked presentable.

"You're sure it's okay that I'm coming like this?" Rimba asked, his voice quieter than usual. "I didn't even bring a gift or anything..."

Michi let out a small laugh, reaching over to pat Rimba's arm, tense on the wheel. "My dad and mom aren't the type who care about gifts, Rim. All they want is one thing—to meet the person who finally made their oldest daughter brave enough to be honest about who she really is."

That sentence made Rimba glance over briefly, catching a new calm on Michi's face that used to be filled with anxiety every time she talked about her family. There was something different now—no longer the mask of a flawless model daughter, but a woman who had finally made peace with both sides of herself.

The car stopped in front of the iron gate of the well-kept Suryokusumo family home, surrounded by large trees shading the front yard. Before Rimba could even switch off the engine, the front door of the house had already opened. Seno Aji Suryokusumo stood in the doorway with his signature warm smile, while Akari appeared beside him not long after, wearing a simple blouse that still radiated an elegance that never seemed to fade.

"So this is the young man who made our eldest daughter brave enough to challenge the entire conservatory board of professors?" Seno greeted the moment Rimba stepped out of the car, his voice deep but playful, bringing an instant relief Rimba had never expected to feel.

Rimba extended his hand with a movement more formal than he'd planned. "Good afternoon, sir, ma'am. I'm Rimba, Michi's collaboration partner on campus."

"Partner?" Akari raised an eyebrow, smiling a thin, meaningful smile while glancing at her daughter. "Michi's told us quite a lot over the phone these past three months, son. I think the word 'partner' is a bit too simple to describe someone who was willing to fly all the way to Vienna just to apologize."

Rimba's face heated up instantly, while Michi covered her mouth to hold back a laugh, watching the most perfectionist composer in all of Yogyakarta lose his words in front of his own future in-laws.

They stepped inside into a tidy living room, filled with family photos and a collection of classical music vinyl records on a teak wood shelf. Seno invited Rimba to sit, while Akari disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with a tray of warm tea and homemade traditional pastries.

The conversation flowed more lightly than Rimba had imagined. Seno asked about his contemporary orchestral project with genuine interest, not interrogation—discussing tone, musical philosophy, even occasionally slipping in stories of his own youth as an amateur musician in Jogja. Akari mostly observed, but her gaze stayed gentle, occasionally smiling softly at the way Michi secretly gripped the edge of Rimba's sleeve under the table every time the young man looked nervous answering a question.

When the conversation fell quiet for a moment, Michi drew a deep breath, straightening her back the way she always used to before playing even the most difficult sonata.

"Dad, Mom," she said, quiet but firm, "I know you both noticed something had changed in me a few months before I left for Vienna. I don't want to put off telling you the truth any longer."

She looked at both her parents in turn, then continued—telling them about Midnight Frequency, the nights spent behind a drum kit, and the reasons behind every small lie she had woven together to keep her two worlds apart. Rimba sat quietly beside her, not interrupting, only gripping Michi's hand tightly under the table as a silent support.

Seno listened without once cutting in, his face calm even as his eyes held a thousand emotions he was working hard to keep in order. When Michi finished speaking, a brief silence blanketed the room, broken only by the ticking of an old wall clock inherited from her grandfather.

"Did you think Dad was going to be angry?" Seno finally asked, his voice gentle, far from the disappointed tone Michi had feared her entire life.

"I... don't know," Michi answered honestly, her voice trembling faintly.

Seno rose from his chair, stepped closer, then placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder with full warmth. "There's only one thing Dad regrets, sweetheart—why it took you this long to believe that this house has always been the safest place for you to be yourself, not just the perfect Michiko up on some stage."

Akari nodded slowly, her eyes glassy but her smile never fading. She turned to look at Rimba, who was still sitting awkwardly on the sofa. "And you, Rimba... thank you for being the reason our daughter finally found the courage to stop hiding."

For the first time that afternoon, Rimba's shoulders, tense since he'd arrived, slowly relaxed. He looked over at Michi beside him, finding the most relieved smile he had ever seen from the girl in all the time they had known each other.

From the direction of the kitchen, the smell of cooking began to drift through the house, a sign that dinner would soon be ready. Seno glanced at his watch, then smiled broadly at the young man Michi had chosen.

"How convenient—we've got another guest joining us tonight too," he said casually, walking toward the dining room. "Bayu just got back from basketball practice. I imagine he's still pretty curious about the young man he apparently already interrogated in the basement studio a few months back."

Michi and Rimba exchanged a brief glance—a shared, held breath, both of them realizing that the night's next chapter was just about to begin.