The afternoon sun filtered through the ventilation slits of Class XII Science 1, creating dancing ribbons of light amidst the settling dust and the pungent, overwhelming aroma of melted cheese. It was H-1—one day before the Study Tour departure. Ideally, this should have been a time of tranquility. A time for packing at home, double-checking travel documents, or simply going to bed early.
However, for Dani Hermawan, the word "tranquility" was a foreign concept, a vocabulary missing from his personal dictionary.
"THE PIZZA HAS ARRIVED! MOVE ASIDE, YOU PLEBEIANS!"
Dani kicked the classroom door wide open, carrying a stack of pizza boxes as tall as the Leaning Tower of Pisa in both hands. Behind him, two other students struggled with large plastic bags filled with ice-cold, sweating bottles of soda.
"Wooo! Sultan Dani is truly unmatched!" the class erupted. The atmosphere, which had been thick with the tension of departure preparations, instantly dissolved into an impromptu bacchanal.
Desks were shoved together in the center of the room, forming a long, improvised banquet table. Pizza boxes were flung open, revealing glistening pools of mozzarella and spicy pepperoni that tested the resolve of even the most disciplined students. Music blared from Dani's oversized Bluetooth speaker, a high-tempo pop track that vibrated through the floorboards.
Salim sat atop his desk in the back corner, his legs swinging casually. He chewed on a piece of Garlic Bread, observing the scene with a detached, clinical gaze. This was Dani's initiative. He called it "The Last Supper" before they headed into the "war zone"—though Dani said it with his usual theatrical flair, Salim felt the term was disturbingly accurate for their situation.
"Lim! Get down here! Why are you acting like a paid spectator up there?" Dani shouted through a mouthful of cheese. "Eat, man! It's free! Savor the luxury!"
Salim offered a thin, tired smile and hopped down. He walked toward the crowd. Amidst the chaos of the party, he began to analyze the group dynamics that had already formed.
Rinto sat at the head of the table as if he were a tribal chief holding court. His face radiated satisfaction, a stark contrast to his infantile rage in front of the videotron the day before.
Nadia, seated nearby, rolled her eyes with practiced annoyance. She looked visibly bitter about being relegated to Group 37—a group she considered a collection of "mediocre non-entities."
Salim listened to the cross-talk as he poured himself a glass of cola. He glanced toward Maya. She was sitting beside Rinto, but her body language spoke volumes of her discomfort; she was leaning as far away as the seating allowed. Maya offered polite smiles in response to Rinto's arrogant chatter, but her eyes... her eyes were vacant. She looked restless. Occasionally, her hand would compulsively clench the fabric of her school skirt, as if she were anchoring herself against a rising tide of panic.
"Lim."
Rizki appeared beside Salim, carrying two slices of Meat Lovers' pizza. He held one out to Salim.
"Eat up. I heard the food in the military barracks—I mean, the 'resort'—won't be nearly this good," Rizki said.
Salim took the pizza. "Are you ready to be in a group with Toto?"
Rizki let out a long, heavy sigh, staring up at the classroom ceiling. "Ready or not, it doesn't matter. I've drafted a strategy. I'll play the 'Good Cop,' and let Toto be the 'Bad Cop.' As long as he doesn't start punching people for no reason, I might actually survive. And you? Group 27?"
"A low-budget version of the Avengers," Salim replied. "Salma already started a WhatsApp group. It's nothing but instructions and a ten-page packing list PDF. I think she wants us to carry a platoon-sized tent in our luggage."
The two of them shared a small, dry laugh. It was a laugh that felt light on the surface but served as a mask for a shared, mounting dread. Rizki patted Salim's shoulder firmly.
"Whatever happens out there, Lim... we're still brothers. If your group needs help, or if you need... I don't know, a place to lay low? Find Group 17."
"Same to you, Ki. Thanks."
The party roared on. The sun dipped lower, bruising the sky into shades of deep orange and crimson. The light inside the classroom dimmed, casting a melancholic hue over the laughing faces. They didn't know. They truly had no idea that this might be the last time they would all sit together in this room in full formation.
Salim retreated slowly from the noise, feeling a desperate need for fresh air. He walked out to the classroom balcony, his favorite spot for quiet contemplation. The evening breeze brushed against his face, carrying the petrichor of an approaching storm.
"Mind if I join you?"
The soft, familiar voice made Salim turn. Maya stood at the balcony threshold. She wasn't carrying any food. Her hands were hidden behind her back.
"You can. But the entry fee is steep," Salim joked, trying to steady a heart that always seemed to lose its rhythm whenever she was near.
Maya let out a soft, melodic giggle and stepped closer. She stood beside him, leaning against the balcony railing, staring down at the empty parade ground below.
"It's so loud in there," Maya remarked.
"Yeah. Dani doesn't know how to do anything halfway," Salim answered.
A silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of the wind and the muffled music from the classroom.
"Lim," Maya said. Her voice had shifted, becoming dangerously serious.
"Yeah?"
Maya turned, leaning her back against the railing so she was facing him directly. She looked into his eyes with a terrifying intensity. There was fear there, yes, but also a deep, unwavering affection.
"You're in a group with Salma, Udin, Rehan, and Alya," Maya said. "People are saying it's the 'Dream Team,' Salim. Everyone is jealous of you."
"Or the 'Nightmare Team'," Salim corrected. "Too many alphas in one pond. It's a recipe for a power struggle."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Maya said, biting her lower lip. "You're smart, Salim. A genius, even. But you... you often forget about your own safety for the sake of your logic. You take risks that aren't necessary just because your calculations say they're 'efficient'."
Salim went silent. Maya knew him better than he cared to admit.
"I'm actually glad Rinto is in my group," Maya continued, surprising him. "Not because I like him. But because Rinto, Sucipto, and Amir... they are physically strong. They can be a shield."
"That's good. You'll be safe," Salim said, feeling a dull ache in his chest at the mention of Rinto.
"But who is going to protect you, Lim?" Maya asked in a low, trembling voice. "Udin? He'll be busy on the front lines. Salma? She'll be occupied with the grand strategy. Rehan and Alya have their own tasks."
Slowly, Maya brought her hands out from behind her back. She was holding a small object. It was a black paracord bracelet with a single, small silver bead shaped like a compass.
"This is for you," she said, offering it to him.
Salim stared at the bracelet. It looked simple, but sturdy.
"A bracelet?"
"It's not just a bracelet. The cord is genuine military-grade paracord. If you unravel it, it's three meters long and can hold a 150-kilogram load. And that silver bead... it's a real working compass, even if it's tiny," Maya explained. "I made it myself last night."
Salim was stunned. The daughter of a luxury hotel mogul had spent her night weaving a survival bracelet for him with her own hands.
"Maya... this is..."
"Wear it, Salim," she pleaded. She reached out, took his right hand, and slipped the bracelet onto his wrist. Their skin touched. Her hands were warm, but they were shaking.
Once it was on, Maya didn't pull her hand away. She gripped his hand tightly.
"Listen to me, Salim Nur Hidayah," she whispered, her eyes beginning to glisten with unshed tears. "Out there... whatever happens... promise me you'll look after yourself. Don't try to be a hero at the last minute. Don't sacrifice yourself just for the sake of some cold numbers."
Salim swallowed hard. "That's the easy part. Don't worry about me."
Maya shook her head. She leaned in closer, staring at him with an intensity that made his breath hitch in his throat.
"You have to stay safe, Lim," she said firmly, as if she were reciting a sacred oath. "I want you to stay you, even when you aren't sure of yourself anymore."
The words hung in the air, heavy and prophetic. Stay you. It was as if Maya knew that Salim's greatest enemy wasn't some external force, but the coldness of his own logic that could one day extinguish his humanity.
"Hey! Soap opera couple! I've been looking for you and you're hiding out here!"
Dani's shrill voice shattered the moment. He appeared at the balcony door, his face flushed from too much laughter and soda.
Maya reflexively pulled her hand away and stepped back, quickly wiping the corner of her eye. Salim cleared his throat, subtly sliding the bracelet further up his arm under the sleeve of his uniform.
"What do you want, Dani? We were having a serious discussion about quantum physics," Salim deflected.
"Quantum physics my foot!" Dani laughed, throwing his arms around both of them. "Come on! Inside! We're taking a grade-wide photo! The homeroom teacher is here with a DSLR!"
Dani dragged them back into the classroom. Back into the noise, the blinding camera flashes, and the ridiculous, forced poses.
Salim stood in the back row as the group photo was taken. He managed a smile, but his thoughts were anchored to the bracelet on his wrist. It felt heavy. It wasn't just an accessory. It was the weight of a promise.
In the front row, Rinto intentionally stood very close to Maya, resting his hand on the back of her chair to create the illusion of an embrace. Maya held her breath, unable to move in the tight crowd. She stole a glance at Salim... her eyes screaming an apology.
Click.
The camera flash whitened their vision for a microsecond. The moment was frozen in digital data. Cheerful faces that had not yet been stained by blood.
The party wound down as the Maghrib call to prayer echoed from a nearby mosque. One by one, the students departed. The classroom lights were switched off.
Salim walked out of the school gates with Dani.
"I'm satisfied, Lim," Dani said, jingling his car keys. "Tomorrow we leave! Bus 3 with Group 27, right?"
"Yeah, Dani. Get home safe," Salim said.
Salim mounted his old Supra. He kicked the starter. Berebet... Greng.
Before he pulled away, he looked back at the school building, which was now shrouded in darkness, its silhouette cutting into the gray night sky.
The feeling returned. The premonition Udin had spoken of. Rehan's hidden messages. The terror in Maya's eyes.
Salim touched the paracord bracelet on his hand. The tiny compass pointed north. But Salim felt that, starting tomorrow, their moral compasses would be the ones spinning out of control.
"Stay me..." Salim murmured to himself.
He shifted into first gear and rode into the night. Behind him, Rajawali High stood silent like a sleeping giant, waiting for the moment to vomit its children into the belly of a true monster.
Tomorrow, there would be no more pizza. Tomorrow, there would only be a menu for survival.