Chapter 3 — Things We Remember
Monday mornings always feel like a small punishment everyone has to accept without ever really knowing what they did wrong.
For Ayu, that punishment usually comes in the form of an alarm that goes off too early, a commute that feels too long, and an inbox that seems to multiply on its own over the weekend.
A little after eight, she was already sitting in front of her laptop, coffee on her right and her to-do list on her left. There were several candidates to follow up with, two interview schedules that needed reconfirming, and one position that was making her question whether a candidate with the combination of skills the hiring manager wanted actually existed in this world.
She was typing a message when Rahma appeared beside her desk.
“Hey,” Rahma said suddenly. Ayu kept her eyes on the screen. “Hmm?” Ayu answered absently. “Why are you smiling to yourself?” Rahma asked pointedly. Ayu’s fingers stopped above the keyboard. “What?” Rahma pulled up a chair. “You’ve been doing it for a while.” “I’m not smiling,” Ayu said, puzzled. “You just smiled,” Rahma insisted. “No, I didn’t,” Ayu denied. “I saw you,” Rahma shot back, making Ayu finally turn to her.
Rahma looked at her with an expression far too pleased for someone who had just arrived first thing in the morning.
“What’s with you?” she asked again. “What do you mean?” Ayu was increasingly confused about where this conversation was going. “You seem different,” Rahma added. Ayu sighed. “I’m just not stressed right now.” “Impossible.” Rahma furrowed her brow, and Ayu let out a small laugh.
Rahma smiled too, then picked up one of the sticky notes from Ayu’s desk and read it.
“Interview at eleven. Follow up with three candidates. Meeting at two. Head home at five.” She looked up.
“You can seriously still leave right at five?” Rahma asked. “If I can, why not?” “Impressive.” “It’s not impressive. I’m tired.” Rahma laughed.
Their conversation ended when a message came in on Ayu’s laptop. She went back to work. But a few minutes later, without realizing it, her gaze drifted toward the desks on the other side of the room. Raka wasn’t there.
Ayu turned her attention back to the screen. She didn’t even know why she’d been looking for him.
Maybe because their conversation at the bus stop a few days ago was still lingering in her mind. Maybe because, for the first time, Raka had spoken to her without it having anything to do with work. Or maybe because now Ayu knew one thing she hadn’t known before.
Raka could laugh. And for some reason, that little fact felt far too easy to remember.
Near noon, Ayu had to deliver some documents to another floor. She left her room carrying her laptop and a thin folder. The office hallway was fairly crowded; some people had just come out of a meeting room, while others were heading toward the pantry.
Ayu walked a little faster until someone appeared from the opposite direction. She recognized him before she really saw his face: Raka. This time, they didn’t simply pass each other. Raka stopped a few steps in front of her.
“Ayu.” Ayu stopped too.
It was the first time Raka had called her by name directly. Not “Miss.” Not a formal greeting. Ayu.
“Hmm?” Ayu answered absently. Raka pointed at the laptop she was carrying. “Are you going to the eleventh floor?” “Yeah.” “Meeting?” “No. I’m delivering documents.” Raka nodded. “I have something to deliver too.”
They walked side by side toward the elevator. Ayu pressed the button. The elevator doors opened a few seconds later. They entered with several other people. Ayu stood on the left side. Raka stood behind her.
There was no conversation for a few seconds. Then Raka said quietly, “Do you still remember that I applied through you?” Ayu turned to him. The question caught her slightly off guard.
“The one in 2022?” she answered, turning her gaze forward again. “Yeah,” Raka said softly. “I remember.” Ayu smiled a little without realizing it.
A few months ago, if someone had asked her the same thing, she might have needed longer to remember.
Raka gave her a faint smile. “I thought you’d forgotten.” Ayu smiled back. “I’m a recruiter. Remembering candidates is literally my job.” “So I was a memorable candidate?” Raka added.
Ayu looked at him. For the first time, Raka sounded like he was joking. Ayu let out a small laugh. “Don’t get full of yourself.” Raka laughed too.
The elevator stopped at the next floor. Several people got out. The space became a little roomier. Ayu stood beside the elevator panel while Raka remained behind her.
“Back then,” Raka said, “I actually considered switching fields.” “To QA, right?” Ayu guessed. “Yeah,” Raka answered. “And then you became a Backend Developer instead,” Ayu added. “Life plans change sometimes,” Raka said honestly. Ayu nodded. “Fair.”
The elevator doors closed again. Ayu saw their reflections in the metal doors. They were standing fairly close. Not too close. But close enough for Ayu to notice the difference in their heights. Raka looked much taller standing only a few steps away from her. Ayu quickly looked away.
“Do you regret it now?” Ayu asked. Raka thought for a moment. “No.” “Why?” Ayu asked again, watching the numbers inside the elevator. “I think I’m supposed to be here,” Raka added.
The answer was simple. But for some reason, Ayu didn’t respond right away. The elevator doors opened on the eleventh floor. Ayu stepped out, and Raka followed.
Before they parted at the end of the hallway, Raka said, “By the way.” Ayu turned to him. “Why did you still remember me back then?” Raka asked. Ayu furrowed her brow. “When?” Ayu asked. “At the bus stop,” Raka added. “Oh.” Ayu finally realized what he meant. “Because you used to be my candidate,” Ayu added. Raka smiled. “Is that all?” Ayu looked at him for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Does there have to be another reason?” she asked. Raka didn’t answer. He only gave her a small smile before walking in the opposite direction. Ayu stood there for a moment.
For some reason, the question felt like something he shouldn’t have needed to ask. And even stranger, she felt that Raka already knew the answer too.
By late afternoon, Ayu returned to her desk with a slightly fuller head than she’d had that morning. She tried to focus on work. But Raka’s words kept surfacing.
Is that all?
Ayu sighed. “What is wrong with me?” Rahma, sitting a few desks away, turned toward her. “What?” “Nothing,” Ayu answered. “You’re talking to yourself again,” Rahma said, puzzled.
Ayu spun her chair around. “I’m thinking.” “Dangerous,” Rahma replied immediately. Ayu tossed a sticky note at her. Rahma caught it with a laugh.
“I’m just curious,” Ayu said. “Uh-huh.” “If someone always avoids your gaze, and then one day suddenly starts talking to you, what does that mean?” Ayu asked.
Rahma fell silent, then slowly set the sticky note on her desk. “Who is it?” Rahma asked instead. Ayu immediately regretted it. “No one.” “I didn’t ask for his name,” Rahma pressed. “Fine,” Ayu said resignedly. “So there is someone,” Rahma added.
Ayu turned back to her laptop. “I’m just asking.” Rahma leaned back in her chair. “According to me?” Rahma said, thinking. Ayu turned slightly toward her. “If someone keeps avoiding your gaze, there’s usually a reason,” Rahma answered. “What reason?” Ayu asked. “Could be a lot of things,” Rahma said. “Like what?” Ayu was still demanding an answer.
Rahma shrugged. “Maybe he’s uncomfortable.” Ayu nodded slowly. “Or embarrassed.” Ayu fell silent. “Or,” Rahma continued, “he’s just too aware of your presence.”
Ayu stared at her. Rahma smiled. “What?” Rahma asked. “Nothing,” Ayu replied quickly. “Don’t tell me—” “Enough,” Ayu cut her off.
Ayu turned her chair back around while Rahma chuckled. But after that, Ayu could no longer ignore her last words.
Too aware of your presence.
For some reason, the idea made far more sense than it should have.
The day was almost over when Ayu finally closed her laptop. She put her things in her bag and stood.
Raka was still at the office. Ayu caught a brief glimpse of him from a distance. He was talking to someone from his team. His expression was serious, and he nodded occasionally as he listened.
Ayu had no intention of waiting. She walked toward the elevator. But when the elevator doors opened, she paused. Something made her turn around.
Raka was looking in her direction. For a few seconds, they stared at each other from across the room. Ayu waited for the usual thing to happen. Raka would lower his head. As usual.
But not this time. Raka kept looking at her. Not for long. Just a few seconds.
Then someone called his name from behind him. Raka looked away. Ayu stepped into the elevator. The doors closed. And for the first time since she’d started paying attention to that man, Ayu wasn’t curious about why Raka lowered his head.
Instead, she was curious about why this time—
Raka didn’t do it.