The streetlights in the narrow alley connecting the campus to her boarding house were only half lit, their pale yellow light flickering with the breeze that carried the smell of wet earth and the scent of frangipani flowers from the yards of the houses across the street. Shanum Asmara pulled her denim jacket tighter around her body, her eyes darting around warily. The clock showed that it was already eleven o'clock at night, and even though she was used to coming home late at night after doing group assignments at the campus library, the uneasiness that enveloped her tonight felt stronger than usual.
"It really is late this time," she whispered as she bent down slightly to pass under a tree branch that jutted out over the road. Her right hand instinctively touched her waist, where she usually kept her boarding house key attached to a small iron bracelet—an item that not only served as an access key, but also as an emergency defense tool if needed. Since high school, her grandmother had always reminded her to never let her guard down, especially when she was alone at night. "The world is not always friendly to orphaned girls who live alone," her grandmother had said at the time, her eyes full of concern but also pride in her granddaughter's determination to face all obstacles.
Shanum took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The martial arts she had studied for the past three years had taught her to remain calm in all situations, but the sensation of being watched by an invisible pair of eyes made her skin crawl. She walked faster, her steps steady even though her heart was already pounding. The sound of her feet hitting the asphalt alternated with the crackling of dry leaves under her shoes, but among those sounds, she felt another set of footsteps following her—light, almost inaudible, but definitely there.
When she turned around with a quick reflex, the street stretched empty before her. There was no one there except for the shadows of trees swaying in the wind. "It's just your imagination, Shanum," she muttered to herself, although her conviction felt weak. This wasn't the first time she had felt this way. Since three months ago, when she moved into a new boarding house after her old one was damaged by a small fire, strange things had always followed her. Sometimes she found her belongings neatly arranged even though she had deliberately scattered them on the table. Sometimes the fan, which had been turned off, would suddenly turn on by itself when she felt hot. Even a few times, when she was fast asleep, she felt a soft hand brush her hair from her forehead.
She arrived at the door of the three-story boarding house owned by Mrs. Siti, a woman in her fifties who was always friendly and took care of her tenants like her own children. Before she could take out her key, the iron gate, which was usually locked tight, suddenly opened slowly. The hinges, which usually squeaked, were completely silent, as if someone had opened it very carefully. Shanum froze for a moment, her eyes scanning every corner of the boarding house yard, which was lit only by a single neon light that was beginning to flicker.
"Mrs. Siti?" she called softly, but there was no answer except for the hissing of lizards on the wall and the croaking of frogs from a small pond in the corner of the yard. She entered carefully, closing the gate slowly and locking it again. As she walked toward the wooden stairs leading to the rooms on the second floor, she saw a long shadow cast on the back wall. The shadow had the shape of a tall man, with broad shoulders and neatly tied hair. But when Shanum turned toward the source of the light—the flashing neon light—it went out completely, plunging the boarding house yard into total darkness.
"This is even more confusing," Shanum complained as she took a flashlight from her backpack. The white light illuminated the road ahead, and she quickly climbed the stairs. When she reached room 204, she was surprised to see that the door was open a third of the way, even though she clearly remembered locking it properly before leaving. Her heart was beating faster, but it wasn't fear that dominated—rather curiosity and a little caution.
He entered the room cautiously, his flashlight illuminating every corner of the small room containing a single bed, a study desk, a wardrobe, and a mini fridge. There were no signs that anyone had entered except for the pillow that was usually at the foot of the bed and was now at the head of the bed, as if prepared for someone to sleep. On the desk, a plastic cup filled with water was ready to be placed right next to the open textbook on the page he had been reading earlier that afternoon.
Shanum stared at the glass of water with wide eyes. She was sure she hadn't prepared it before leaving.
"Who's here?" she asked in a louder voice, even though her heart was already beginning to feel a strange fluttering in her chest. Her right hand was ready to grab the iron bracelet at her waist if anything went wrong. She walked slowly toward the table, her eyes observing every possible movement. As she was about to touch the glass of water, it was as if a gentle breeze swept across her face, carrying the distinctive scent of sandalwood—a scent she had once breathed in at her grandmother's house in Yogyakarta, in the room that had once been her father's before he married her mother.
"You don't need to be afraid of me."
The voice was soft but clear, like a whisper coming from the window. Shanum dropped her flashlight in surprise, extinguishing the light and plunging the room back into darkness. But unlike before, she could now see a silvery-white figure standing near the window, its silhouette clearly visible behind the gauze curtains fluttering in the wind. The figure was about 180 centimeters tall, wearing a traditional Javanese black shirt with gold accents on the collar and sleeves. Her thick black hair was tied back with a maroon headband, and her youthful face, which had a strong aura of maturity, was staring at her with loving eyes.
Shanum couldn't move at all. Her tongue felt dry, and all the martial arts techniques she had learned seemed to vanish from her memory. She could only stare at the invisible man with eyes full of admiration and a hint of fear.
"Who... who are you?" she finally whispered, her voice trembling but not showing excessive fear.
The figure nodded slowly, his lips curving into a gentle smile. "I'm here to protect you, Shanum. I've been watching over you for a long time."
Before Shanum could ask any further questions, the sound of the dormitory doorbell ringing from downstairs startled her again. When she turned back toward the window, the man had vanished without a trace. Only the scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, and the glass of water on the table still felt warm when she finally touched it.
"Shanum! Have you come home yet?" Mrs. Siti's voice sounded from outside the room door.
Shanum quickly picked up her flashlight from the floor and turned it on again, taking deep breaths to calm herself. "Yes, Mrs. Siti! I just came in," she replied as she walked to open the door.
Mrs. Siti stood at the door with a worried look on her face, holding a plastic bucket filled with water. "The outdoor neon lights are out again, dear. I'm worried you won't be able to get in. Oh, by the way, I saw a tall person standing in front of your room earlier, but when I tried to say hello, they were already gone. Wait for your friend, okay?"
Shanum felt a tightness in her chest. She shook her head reluctantly, giving Mrs. Siti a gentle smile. "Maybe it was someone else, ma'am. I'm not waiting for anyone."
After Mrs. Siti left, Shanum closed the door and locked it tightly. She turned to face the room, which now felt very small and full of mystery. The glass of water on the table was still there, and on the surface of the water, she saw a small scratch resembling the shape of the letter D.