Nyi Rukmini's Message

Sagara opened his eyes.

He felt the bed beneath him shaking. For a moment, his mind was still clouded with sleep. But after glancing around, he realized that not a single object in the room was moving.

It wasn't an earthquake.

Sagara immediately turned toward his younger brother.

He realized that Niskala's body, wrapped in a thick blanket, was trembling violently. The young man's teeth were chattering, and his breathing sounded labored.

Sagara quickly got up and turned his brother onto his back.

Niskala's eyes were tightly shut, but his forehead and temples were covered in sweat.

Sagara pressed his palm against Niskala's forehead.

Hot.

A fever.

He immediately got out of bed and opened the drawer of the bedside table. He distinctly remembered keeping a thermometer there.

Sure enough, it was still in its place.

Sagara let out a relieved sigh before returning to the bed. He sat on the edge and placed the thermometer under Niskala's left armpit.

A few moments later, a beep sounded.

39°C.

Sagara let out a long sigh.

Suddenly, he remembered what their mother had told him before they left.

"Take good care of your brother."

Those simple words now felt much heavier than before.

Sagara gently patted his brother's shoulder.

"Come on, little bro. Wake up for a bit. Eat some bread, then take your medicine."

He helped Niskala sit up, supporting his body against the headboard.

Niskala's eyes remained closed. His lips moved as though he wanted to say something, but the words seemed trapped in his throat.

"B-Bang ..."

Only one word managed to escape.

Sagara leaned closer to hear him.

"I'm here."

"I-I ... want to d-drink. I'm th-thirsty ...."

Niskala's voice was painfully weak and broken.

It was hard to believe that just before going to sleep, the young man had been so enthusiastic about reminiscing with him about their childhood at Nyi Rukmini's house.

"Okay. I'll get you some water. Just wait a moment, all right? I'll look for something to eat in the kitchen so you can take your medicine."

Sagara picked up the water bottle from the bedside table and handed it to Niskala.

"Drink a little first."

After making sure his brother had a firm grip on the bottle, Sagara left the bedroom and headed toward the kitchen.

But after taking only a few steps, just as he turned toward the kitchen, something flickered at the corner of his eye.

Sagara stopped.

He immediately turned his head.

There was no one there.

"Who's that?"

He walked slowly, searching for the kitchen light switch. Nyi Rukmini's house always felt rather dark at night because several lights in the rooms were deliberately left off.

His hand finally found the switch.

Click.

The light came on.

Sagara looked around.

The fairly spacious room was empty.

He was the only one there.

He breathed a sigh of relief before walking toward the kitchen shelves. As far as he could remember, there were still a few packets of packaged bread stored there.

He had just reached for them when ....

"What are you doing?"

Sagara jolted.

"Astagfirullah!"

He spun around, his heart pounding.

Nyi Rukmini stood a few steps behind him.

"You scared me, Nyi." Sagara rubbed his chest. "I was ... looking for bread for Niskala. He's running a fever, Nyi."

Several packets of bread were still in his hands.

"A fever?"

Nyi Rukmini's forehead immediately creased with concern.

Without saying another word, the elderly woman turned and hurried toward the bedroom occupied by her two grandchildren.

Her movements betrayed a deep sense of worry.

It was a striking contrast to her usual demeanor, which had always seemed cold and somewhat haughty.

Sagara hurried after her.

As soon as she entered the bedroom, Nyi Rukmini went straight to Niskala. She pressed the back of her hand against her grandson's forehead.

Hot.

The elderly woman then reached for several tissues beside the water bottle and gently wiped the sweat from Niskala's forehead and temples.

Sagara watched in silence.

He blinked.

As though trying to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

Nyi Rukmini wiped her own cheek.

The elderly woman was crying.

Silently.

There were no sobs, no sound of weeping. Only tears streaming down her face in the stillness of the room.

"You have to live a long life, Kala," she whispered. "You have to be strong."

Nyi Rukmini gently stroked her grandson's arm.

After that, she opened the bedside table drawer and took out an instant cooling patch.

She unwrapped it and carefully placed it on Niskala's forehead.

Niskala's eyelids, which had remained tightly shut, slowly opened.

His blurry gaze fell upon Nyi Rukmini's face.

For the first time, Niskala saw such profound sadness and worry in his grandmother's expression.

That was when he realized something.

Behind the cold demeanor that had always made her seem arrogant, Nyi Rukmini actually cared about them.

She cared about them deeply.

"Th-thank ... you, Nyi."

Niskala gave a small nod.

Nyi Rukmini quickly composed herself.

"Eat the bread Saga brought you. Then take your medicine. Don't waste it."

Her voice turned cold again.

As though the tears she had shed moments earlier had never existed.

She rose from her seat and headed toward the door.

But as she passed Sagara, Nyi Rukmini stopped.

The elderly woman turned to look at him.

"Take good care of your brother."

Her sharp gaze fixed firmly on Sagara.

"And don't forget ... take care of yourself, too."

Sagara fell silent.

Nyi Rukmini then left the room and gently closed the door.

Click.

Sagara remained where he stood.

Something about the elderly woman's simple words troubled him.

They didn't sound like an ordinary reminder.

You have to live a long life, Kala. You have to be strong.

And then ....

Take good care of your brother. And take care of yourself, too.

What did she mean?

"Bang ..."

Niskala's weak voice interrupted his thoughts.

Sagara turned toward him.

"I ... want ... some br-bread."

Niskala raised his right hand, groping blindly through the air.

Sagara snapped out of his daze.

"Oh, right."

Flustered, he quickly handed his brother a packet of bread.

"Eat a little. Slowly."

That night, Sagara stayed awake beside Niskala until dawn.

Throughout the night, he recited the surahs he had memorized. Every now and then, he read from the Qur'an to calm his heart. Whenever sleep began to overtake him, he brewed himself a cup of coffee.

But his eyes never truly left Niskala.

He kept checking to make sure his brother was breathing properly.

Making sure his fever wasn't getting any worse.

And in the silence of that night, Nyi Rukmini's words continued to echo in his mind.

"Take care of yourself, too."

For reasons he couldn't explain, those words made Sagara feel as though something terrible was waiting for them just around the corner.