Urip's knees suddenly buckled, as if unable to carry the full weight of memories that came rushing all at once. He could only stand frozen, swallowing the bitterness in silence, while the sound of crickets from the corner of the alley crept in between his irregular heartbeat.
Just as he was about to excuse himself and turn around, the old man suddenly called out, "Wait a moment!"
Urip quickly turned. "Yes, Sir?"
The old man stared deeply at him, his gaze sharp yet unsteady—like someone seeing a ghost from the past. He squinted, then said quietly, "You look like..." He trailed off, inhaled, and shook his head slowly. "Ah, never mind. Just an old man's imagination."
Urip gave a small, forced smile, trying to steady the tremble in his voice. "Alright then. Thank you very much for the information, Sir."
He turned and walked away from the house with heavy steps. But as his eyes glanced briefly at the front door, something made him pause.
A small, weathered wooden nameplate. It read: "M. Sulaiman."
Urip stood frozen. "Sulaiman? That name too?" he whispered to himself. At once, something gripped his chest—an indescribable feeling, somewhere between coincidence and fate. The name was too close, too familiar… too deeply tied to something he thought he had forgotten.
—
Urip had just resumed his steps when the door behind him opened again and a high school girl stepped out. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, her face fresh and bright, though tinged with curiosity. She paused when she saw him, glanced back and forth twice, as if unsure of what she was seeing.
The girl whispered softly, just loud enough for the old man still standing at the door to hear, "Kong… he looks like him, doesn't he? Just like the photo on the altar…"
Urip turned briefly, his eyes meeting the girl's face. A young face—unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar... like ripples from the past brushing against the surface of his heart.
The old man nodded slowly, his gaze deep. "Yes… very much so." Then, still watching Urip's retreating back, he murmured under his breath, barely audible, "As if he's come back from another world."
But Urip didn't look back again. His steps hesitated for a moment, then continued on… while behind the gate, the high school girl stood frozen, staring after the stranger whose face looked as though it had stepped out of an old photo frame and unfinished prayers.
—
Urip stood at the edge of the narrow road, his eyes staring blankly at the passing vehicles. Jakarta's hot, dusty wind brushed against his face, carrying the scent of asphalt, fried snacks, and memories that could never be retrieved.
"Where am I going?" he wondered, gazing at the grey sky. "Salemba? What for? All the old boarding house kids must be long gone. That house is probably a shop lot or an apartment by now…"
He took a long breath, his chest tight with shadows of the past arriving uninvited.
"Jakarta... has changed so much." A bitter smile tugged at his lips. "Even the hotel where Siska and I... that night that changed everything... it's gone too. They said it was demolished. Replaced with some Instagrammable café."
His steps felt both light and heavy. Light because something in him still longed to search. Heavy because his heart remained tethered to the ruins of his past.
He walked slowly, tracing the sidewalk that felt both foreign and familiar. A street once filled with laughter now echoed only in his mind. Jakarta had moved forward, but a part of him remained trapped in a time corridor he could no longer touch.
—
The high school girl jogged through the narrow alleys between the tightly packed houses of Grogol, now bathed in the soft afternoon light. Her ponytail bounced as she ran, breath uneven, uniform a bit rumpled from rushing.
"Koh! Wait!" she called out.
Urip turned around, frowning slightly. He recognized the girl he had passed earlier in front of the house. Her eyes were sharp, filled with curiosity—but not judgment.
She stopped right in front of him, bent over a little, catching her breath. Then, in a still-unsteady voice, she asked:
"Do you know Gabriel Sulaiman?"
Urip swallowed hard. There was something in that question that sent a chill down his spine.
"Why do you ask?" he replied calmly, though his tone was laced with caution.
The girl took out her phone from her skirt pocket, opened the gallery, and showed him a photo of a small altar from the house they had just left. On the altar was a photo of a young man in a suit, wearing a faint smile. Beneath it read: "Gabriel Sulaiman Lim — Father, Brother, Friend."
"This photo," she said, "looks exactly like you. Even Kong said so earlier. That's why I got curious…"
Urip stared at the photo for a long time. His hands trembled slightly. It was his face. Or rather, the face of the body he now inhabited. Lim Gabriel. But that name…
"Gabriel Sulaiman Lim…" he murmured. "Who is he to your family?"
The girl looked surprised, blinking. "You just said... 'Lim'? I never told you his last name."
Urip went silent. He hadn't even realized he said "Lim." It slipped out, as if his tongue and memory knew the name before his mind could catch up.
"Gabriel Sulaiman..." the girl lowered her gaze, then looked back up. "...was my grand-uncle. My grandfather is Martin Sulaiman."
Thud. Urip's chest jolted.
Martin Sulaiman.
A strange name, yet now slowly anchoring itself inside him. Not from Gaby's memory. Not from the life of Stefanus Urip Mulio. But from… somewhere deeper. A buried layer of a soul trying to piece itself back together.
"You said… Martin?" Urip repeated softly.
"Yes. Martin Sulaiman. Younger brother of Gabriel Sulaiman Lim."
Urip was silent. His breath heavy. The world seemed to slow around him.
"Gabriel Sulaiman… had a younger brother? But why have I never heard of him? Even Siska never mentioned anything…"
Or perhaps Siska herself didn't know much. Or the family was estranged. Separated by time, tragedy, or a history never resolved.
"I am Gabriel Sulaiman Lim's grandson…" Urip said slowly, barely audible. "...but I didn't know he had a brother."
"Oh my God!" Michelle covered her mouth with both hands, eyes wide. "Seriously?!"
Michelle's emotions burst like a child discovering a long-lost twin at the mall.
"If that's true… that makes you my cousin! Second cousins!" she squealed, bouncing on her feet. "My name's Michelle. Michelle Sulaiman Lim, daughter of Sutanto Sulaiman Lim!"
Urip shook her hand awkwardly. "Gaby. Gabriel Lim."
Inside his head, a voice emerged. Gaby's voice.
"Mama never told me anything about this. If Grandpa had a brother, why is there no family photo? No stories?"
The voice wasn't just curious—it was suspicious. A body that had grown up with Siska for years was picking up on something odd.
"Even as a kid, I often saw Mama staring long at Grandpa's photo. But there was only one photo. Alone. As if he were an only child."
"Come to the house!" Michelle said excitedly. "I'll show you the family altar! You'll see for yourself—that photo really does look like you!"
Urip made an excuse, trying to hide the turmoil inside. "Maybe later… I have an appointment. I'll come by again."
Michelle looked disappointed but nodded. "Okay. But promise you'll come back. I'll tell Kong!"
Urip walked away, but the voice inside him wouldn't stop.
"Gaby… do you know her?"
"No. But be careful. Something's off. This isn't just about family."