The fragrant tendrils of fried rice snaked out from the kitchen, finding Naufal's senses and pulling him from sleep. It was Tuesday—a day that always felt like a lead weight in Naufal's gut.
Not because of the looming deadlines at the office, but because of the anxieties that seemed to gather strength at the dawn of each new week.
But even that weight felt a little lighter with the aroma of nasi goreng. At least he could arm himself with a good meal before facing the long day's battle.
He scrubbed himself awake in the shower, then quickly pulled on a black shirt, his name a silent declaration across the chest. The wall clock read 6:30. A small pocket of calm before the storm.
His younger brother, Akhzam, was already at the dining table, a picture of youthful energy in his neat school uniform. His face split into a grin as Naufal approached, a half-empty plate of fried rice evidence of a breakfast well underway.
"Brother!" Akhzam greeted, his words slightly muffled by a mouthful of nasi goreng.
"Someone's making good progress," Naufal said, pulling out a chair beside him.
"It's so good, Brother! Mama's nasi goreng is the best!" Akhzam declared, giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Naufal smiled, a familiar warmth spreading through him. He knew the magic his mother wove into her cooking. That unique blend of spices, a dance between savory and sweet, was pure addiction.
He reached for a plate and spoon, piling on a generous portion of the still-warm rice. The first bite was an instant wake-up call to his appetite.
"Nothing beats Mama's nasi goreng," Naufal said, a genuine appreciation in his voice.
"Thank goodness you both love it so much," Adelia replied, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Brother, I have a math test today," Akhzam announced, the cheer suddenly draining from his voice.
Naufal's spoon stilled. "A math test?"
"Yeah, on addition and subtraction. I'm still getting mixed up with the word problems," Akhzam confessed, his face clouded with worry.
Naufal set down his spoon, a sense of responsibility settling over him. "How about we run through some examples before you leave? Maybe I can help it click," he offered.
Akhzam's face lit up. "Really? Thanks, Brother!"
Breakfast plates cleared, Naufal and Akhzam moved to the living room. Naufal opened Akhzam's math book, patiently guiding him through the principles of addition and subtraction, breaking down the problems into simple, digestible steps.
"I get it now. Thank you!" Akhzam said, relief flooding his features.
"Anytime. The most important thing is to try your best, and never be afraid to ask for help," Naufal replied, ruffling his younger brother's hair with affection.
By 7:00 AM, Akhzam was ready to leave for school, his earlier anxiety replaced by a quiet confidence.
"I'll drop him off, Ma. I can head straight to the office from there," Naufal said.
"Drive carefully," Adelia reminded him, a mother's worry etched on her face. "Will you be home tonight?"
"We'll see, Ma. We're heading out now."
"Bye, Mama!" Akhzam called, waving as he followed Naufal out the door.
They hurried to the car. Naufal clicked his seatbelt into place, and then his phone buzzed—Aretha. His pulse quickened, a cold premonition settling in his stomach. He stole a glance at Akhzam, trying to keep his face neutral.
"Retha?" Naufal answered, forcing a calm tone.
"Commander, we've got a situation! Dion, our primary target, is setting up a major deal at the old Fruity Mart warehouse! We need immediate backup! They are armed to the teeth!" Aretha's voice was tight with panic, her words tumbling over each other.
Naufal's brow furrowed, a knot forming in his gut. "Retha, where exactly is this Fruity Mart?" His heart hammered against his ribs.
"Garuda Sakti Street, just past the traffic lights. It's in that row of abandoned shops, about four units down," Aretha replied, her voice trembling on the edge of control.
Garuda Sakti Street. A wave of ice washed over Naufal. That was spitting distance from Akhzam's school.
"Retha, that's too close to Akhzam's school! We need to move, now! This isn't just about Dion anymore, it's about the safety of those kids! The school could be their bolthole!"
"Damn it! They're already in position! I'm on overwatch, but there are too many of them, and they're carrying heavy firepower!"
"Retha, give me your location! Where are you positioned?" Naufal demanded, his voice hardening.
"Behind that dilapidated shack near the warehouse! The one that's practically falling down. They're..." The line went dead.
Naufal's anxiety spiked, a raw, visceral fear. He had to move, and fast. He looked at Akhzam, forcing himself to project an air of calm. This was no longer just about taking down Dion; it was about protecting Aretha, and potentially, a school full of innocent children.
With a surge of adrenaline, he drove Akhzam to the school gates. He walked him to the security post, placing his hand firmly on his brother's shoulder.
"Morning, Mr. Diki," Akhzam said, a polite smile on his face.
"Well, hello there, Akhzam. Looks like Naufal's on drop-off duty today?" Mr. Diki replied, his eyes warm.
"Could you keep an extra eye on him today, Pak? I've got to rush off to the office," Naufal said, his voice carefully neutral.
"You got it."
Naufal practically threw himself back into the car, the tires squealing as he accelerated towards Garuda Sakti Street. He punched in the emergency contact for his team, his voice clipped and urgent.
"Fruity Mart warehouse, Garuda Sakti Street. Suspected drug transaction in progress. Aretha is on site and needs immediate backup. Heavy weapons suspected."
He arrived to a scene of controlled chaos. The backup team was already engaged, the air thick with the sharp crack of gunfire and the shouts of men. Naufal abandoned his car, sprinting towards the warehouse, hugging the shadows.
Through the chaos of the firefight, Naufal saw her: Aretha, sprawled behind the crumbling remains of the shack. He sprinted towards her, throwing himself in front of her, shielding her from the incoming fire. Blood bloomed on her shoulder, staining her clothes a horrifying crimson. Her face was pale, but her eyes locked onto Naufal's, a silent plea in their depths.
"Retha!" Naufal yelled, his voice raw with fear. He ripped open her shirt, applying pressure to the wound, his mind racing.
When the dust settled, and the last of Dion's crew were subdued, Naufal gently lifted Aretha into his arms, carrying her towards the waiting ambulance. Relief washed over him—the operation was a success, but the fear for Aretha's life still clung to him like a shroud.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his voice a low murmur against her ear. "Just hold on, Retha. You're going to be okay."
Naufal glanced towards Dimas, who stood a short distance away, overseeing the scene. Behind him, Razak and the rest of the team were collecting evidence, the subdued members of Dion's gang huddled together, their hands cuffed behind their backs. The piercing wail of the ambulance siren faded into the distance, carrying Aretha away.
"We've got it from here, Sir," Dimas said, his voice respectful, understanding Naufal's need to follow the ambulance, to ensure the safety of the only woman on their team.
"Alright. Keep me posted. Let's go, Wisnu."
"Yes, Sir!" Wisnu, his young face pale but determined, followed Naufal to the car.
The weight of the day settled heavily on Naufal's shoulders, another indelible mark etched onto his soul.
Inside the car, a strained silence filled the space, broken only by the hum of the engine and the ragged rhythm of their breathing.
"She'll pull through, right, Sir?" Wisnu asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Naufal took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, the image of Aretha's blood-soaked shoulder burned into his mind.
"We did everything we could," he said, his voice low and steady. "Now we have to trust the doctors. She's a fighter, Wisnu. One of the best."
Wisnu nodded, but the worry still lingered in his eyes.
"She was the only one who had the guts to go in first, knowing what she was walking into."
Naufal's jaw tightened, a surge of fierce protectiveness rising within him. "That's Aretha. She doesn't do anything by halves. And because of her, we brought Dion down today."
"I can't stop thinking about how close Akhzam's school was. If we had been even a few minutes later..."
"Don't go there, Wisnu," Naufal interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. "We got there on time. We stopped the worst from happening. Focus on that."
Wisnu was silent for a moment, then nodded, his shoulders straightening.
"Sir" he said, his voice gaining strength. "Can I be honest with you?"
"What is it?"
"Seeing you carry Kak Aretha to the ambulance... it hit me. I realized I've got a long way to go. It's not just about tactics and shooting. It's about courage, and making the tough calls, and... and just being human."
Naufal glanced at him, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "If you've figured that out, Wisnu, you're already halfway there."
The car ate up the miles, the distant wail of a siren a constant reminder of the day's brutal reality, a soundtrack to their journey not just to the hospital, but to the uncertain future that awaited them as protectors of the innocent, guardians against the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface of their world.