That morning, the rain fell without warning. Not heavy, just a light drizzle, enough to make Jakarta's air feel more humid than usual. The sky was a pale gray, like a phone screen someone forgot to adjust the brightness on. At a bus stop with a leaking roof in the left corner, Aruna stood clutching her canvas bag tightly.
Mondays had a special talent for being annoying.
Her laptop had completely died earlier that morning. Not low battery, not permanently broken, just… choosing to give up at the worst possible moment. And her manuscript deadline was two hours away. As a freelance content editor, Aruna lived off words, and losing her laptop was like a chef losing their stove.
She let out a sigh, staring at her phone with a defeated expression. Two bars of signal. The document app wouldn't open. Notifications from her work group kept pouring in, like a flock of noisy crows.
"Calm down, Run. Calm down," she muttered to herself.
That was when her phone vibrated again.
Not from the work group. Not from email. A simple notification appeared on the screen, from a messaging app she rarely used.
Unknown Account:
The café across from the bus stop opened earlier today. There's an outlet. The coffee's decent too.
Aruna blinked. Once. Twice.
"Huh?"
She glanced right, then left, as if the message might be floating in the air. The café across the street did exist, a small building with wide windows and a wooden sign that read Senandika. It usually opened at ten. Now it was only half past seven.
"Who is this?" she muttered.
She opened the app. No profile picture. No name. Just a plain gray circle and that single message. Her heart beat a little faster, caught between suspicion and… curiosity.
It could be spam. Or a prank. But the rain was getting steadier, and the idea of standing at the bus stop until the bus arrived felt increasingly unappealing.
Aruna crossed the street, her canvas sneakers splashing through small puddles. The café bell chimed as she pushed the door open.
The aroma of coffee greeted her immediately, warm and comforting. Inside, only two tables were occupied. A man stood behind the counter, wearing a black apron and a dark plain T-shirt. His hair was slightly messy, like he'd just woken up and already given up on fixing it.
"Good morning," he said simply.
"Morning," Aruna replied, a little awkward.
Her eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for an outlet. There. Near the window. She sat down quickly, pulled out her laptop, and sure enough—the power was on. The screen lit up as if it had never betrayed her that morning.
Aruna exhaled in relief. "Thank you," she said spontaneously toward the counter.
The man gave a small nod. "What would you like to order?"
"Just black coffee. A little sugar."
A few minutes later, a cup of coffee was placed on her table. Aruna took a sip and—she paused.
Decent. The anonymous message hadn't lied.
She opened her document, her fingers dancing across the keyboard again. The deadline loomed, the rain forgotten. Every so often, she glanced at her phone lying beside the laptop.
The message was still there.
Half an hour later, the manuscript was done. Aruna leaned back in her chair, her shoulders feeling lighter. She picked up her phone, stared at the screen, then—without knowing why—typed a reply.
Aruna:
Thanks for the info. Who are you?
Message sent. No read receipt. Aruna shrugged, assuming that was the end of the morning's strangeness.
She stood up, carrying her cup to the counter. "The coffee's good."
"Thank you," the man replied, his tone flat but not cold.
Aruna looked at his face more closely now. A sharp jawline, calm eyes, like someone who rarely overreacted. The kind that was hard to read.
"Do you usually open this early?" Aruna asked, making small talk.
"No."
"Oh." She smiled awkwardly. "A coincidence then."
"You could say that."
She paid and stepped outside. The rain had stopped. The air felt fresh, like after making a small but correct decision.
On the sidewalk, her phone vibrated again.
Unknown Account:
You're welcome. Don't forget to back up your files.
Aruna stopped walking.
She stared at the screen, then quickly turned back toward the café. Through the window, the man was still behind the counter, wiping a glass. Their eyes met for a brief moment. He showed no reaction, simply lowered his gaze again.
"No way," Aruna murmured.
She typed quickly.
Aruna:
Are you in that café?
A few seconds passed. Her heart beat faster than it should have.
Unknown Account:
Maybe.
Aruna laughed softly, unsure what she was supposed to feel. This was strange. But not scary. If anything… it was pleasant, like discovering a good song by accident.
She slipped her phone into her pocket and continued walking. Her Monday was still long, but at least it had started with something unusual.
Inside the café, the man glanced at his own phone. A new notification appeared. He didn't reply right away. He just stared at the screen for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Outside, Aruna didn't know that a small new habit had just been born.
A notification.
Arriving a little too perfectly.