After a drive of several dozen minutes from Café Centris, Felzein, accompanied by Rosa and Melati, at last arrived at his residence.
The sight that greeted the two young women was nothing short of striking.
Felzein's home stood grand and imposing, its vastness and elegance immediately setting it apart.
Towering three storeys high, the building loomed with a quiet majesty, easily dwarfing the modest homes that lined the neighbourhood.
Once he had brought the car to a halt, Felzein turned to them with purposeful resolve.
"Come on, Ocha, Melati! We'll stop by the head of the neighbourhood's house first," he said.
Rosa and Melati exchanged a glance, clearly bemused.
"The head of the neighbourhood?" Melati queried, her brows knitting slightly. "Whatever for?"
Felzein offered a brief smile, one corner of his mouth lifting with a hint of formality.
"Well, since you'll be staying here for a while, it's only right we report your presence."
Rosa tilted her head, half-amused, half-incredulous, "Is all that really necessary?"
Felzein gave a firm nod, "Absolutely. It's what any proper resident ought to do."
He looked to them once more, his tone a notch more practical, "You did bring your ID cards, didn't you?"
"I did!," Rosa confirmed at once.
"So did I," Melati added.
"Excellent," Felzein said, already stepping away. "It's not far. Just a short walk from here."
Without further question, Rosa and Melati exchanged a glance and nodded, trailing quietly behind Felzein as he led the way to the local headman's residence.
A short walk later, they arrived before a humble yet welcoming house unassuming in stature but exuding a quiet warmth.
Affixed beside the door was a modest plaque that read : Neighbourhood Head of 04.
Felzein stepped forward and rapped gently on the door.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Salamu aleykom, Mr Sugi," he called, his voice calm and clear.
From within came a woman's voice, warm and familiar, "Wa aleykom salam."
Moments later, the door eased open, and a young woman in a neatly pinned hijab appeared. Athifah, the daughter of the headman.
"Masha Allah!" she gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment.
Though she had long been acquainted with the name Felzein, she had rarely, if ever, glimpsed his face.
He was always veiled behind the anonymity of a mask.
Felzein seemed to register her surprise and murmured under his breath, "Forgive me, God… I've forgotten again."
Athifah studied his face with a trace of hesitation, her voice faltering as she spoke, "Y-You're… you're Felzein, aren't you?"
Despite her uncertainty, there was little room for doubt.
That distinctive middle-parted hair, slightly tousled and brushing the collar, was unmistakably his.
Felzein offered a gentle smile. One that, by more than a few accounts, could unnerve even the steadiest of hearts.
Athifah felt a tremor ripple through her as she met his gaze.
"Yes. I'm Felzein," he said softly. "Is your father in?"
"Y-Yes, he is. Please, wait here a moment," Athifah replied hastily before disappearing into the house.
Yet so captivated was she by the sight of Felzein that she failed to notice the table directly before her.
Thud!
"Ow!" cried Athifah, stumbling clumsily into the solid edge.
Mortified, she turned on her heel and fled into the house, cheeks burning, to summon her father.
Felzein merely shook his head, a trace of amusement on his face.
Rosa and Melati exchanged knowing glances before soft smiles curled upon their lips.
Melati edged closer to Rosa and murmured beneath her breath, "Ocha… What are we going to do?"
Rosa furrowed her brow, "Do about what?" she returned, puzzled by the question.
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of resignation, Melati cast her gaze towards Felzein, who stood with effortless grace, entirely unaware of the stir he caused.
"Felzein… Everywhere he goes, hearts flutter. It's as if no one is immune to him," she said, the hint of jealousy unmistakable in her voice.
Rosa gave a gentle laugh, placing a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder.
"Well, that's the price we pay, Mel. We'll need to steady ourselves. Take heart! We're in this together," she replied with a lightness that masked her own stirring unease.
A few moments later, the neighbourhood head, Mr Sugiyatmono, emerged from the house in haste, his sandals scuffing against the tiled floor as he hurried to the gate.
"Ah… Mr Felzein! Do come in," he said, his voice rich with geniality, arms already extended in welcome.
Felzein offered a modest smile, then turned slightly, gesturing to the two figures just behind him.
"I've brought company, sir."
At this, Mr Sugiyatmono's gaze shifted to the young women standing a touch uncertainly by the gate.
His expression softened at once.
"Oh, please, by all means. Come in, come in," he said, waving them inside with a warmth that bespoke both hospitality and curiosity.
Within moments, the three were seated in the modest sitting room.
Worn but spotless, with the faint scent of clove wafting in the air. It was Felzein who first spoke, his tone courteous but direct.
"Forgive the intrusion, Mr Sugi. I wished to inform you that these two young ladies will be staying at my house for a short while."
Mr Sugiyatmono's brows lifted in surprise, a momentary flicker of concern crossing his features.
"At your house?" he echoed, as though to be certain he had heard correctly.
Felzein nodded, calm and resolute, "Yes, sir. If I may, allow me to explain."
With that, he began recounting the tale carefully, with no detail spared.
He spoke of the strange circumstances of their meeting, the incident at the shop, and the unnerving theft that had recently transpired.
When he reached the part concerning Melati and her former connection to one of the suspects, his voice dipped slightly, as though mindful of her presence.
Mr Sugiyatmono listened intently throughout, his face gradually hardening with the gravity of the tale.
He said nothing, but the occasional nod, the slight furrow of his brow, made clear that he was following every word.
At last, as Felzein finished, a hush settled over the room. Mr Sugiyatmono drew in a long, slow breath and let it out with weighty deliberation.
"The times, Mr Felzein… they grow stranger by the day," he murmured. "It seems wickedness finds ever more subtle ways to creep into our lives."
He fell silent then, lost in a moment's thought, while outside, the wind stirred gently through the leaves, as if the world, too, were listening.
Afterwards, Mr Sugi nodded solemnly, "Very well, Mr Felzein. I shall permit them to remain at your residence," he said, his tone deliberate and composed.
"Thank you kindly, Mr Sugi," Felzein replied with quiet sincerity.
"Oh by the way, young ladies, may I trouble you for your identity cards? They're needed for the neighbourhood register," Mr Sugi added, turning his gaze towards Rosa and Melati.
With polite nods, both women reached into their handbags and produced their identification cards.
Excusing himself, Mr Sugi stepped briefly into the house, returning moments later with a sizeable, well-worn ledger, the official guest book, long used to record visitors and temporary lodgers in the community.
Upon receiving the cards, he opened the tome with care and, taking up a fountain pen, began to write with the practised ease of one long accustomed to clerical order.
"This is simply a formality," he explained in a reassuring tone, his eyes on the page. "Should anything untoward occur, we'd be able to respond without delay."
Rosa and Melati acknowledged the explanation with quiet understanding, while Felzein remained seated, his demeanour composed, observing the proceedings without interruption.
"So... Rosa Vini Ramadhani, from Karang Randu Village, RT 06 RW 01," Mr Sugi recited, transcribing the information.
"That's correct, sir," Rosa confirmed gently.
"And here... Melati Verania, of Windusari Village, RT 02 RW 02."
"Yes, sir," Melati replied, offering a respectful nod.
With both entries neatly completed, Mr Sugi closed the ledger with a soft, final thud, then returned their cards with a courteous gesture.
"Charming names, the pair of you. Rosa and Melati, Rose and Jasmine. Quite like two blossoms in full grace," he said with a benevolent smile.
"Masha Allah…" the young women responded in unison, their voices soft, almost reflexive.
Felzein allowed himself a faint smile. Clearly, the phrase had become second nature to them, a gentle reflex born of humility.
"Well then," Mr Sugi said, rising to his feet, "if you find yourselves in need of anything further, you know where to find me."
"Understood. Many thanks, Mr Sugi," Felzein said, standing as well.
"You're most welcome, Mr Felzein. Take good care of yourselves."
With parting courtesies exchanged, Felzein, Rosa, and Melati made their way back towards his home, leaving Mr Sugi alone once more in the quiet of his parlour.
For a moment, he remained seated, gently shaking his head as the full weight of the afternoon's revelations settled upon him.
Then, with the suddenness of a summer gust, his daughter Athifah came bursting from the house, her face flushed with impassioned resolve.
"Father!" she cried. "I've decided! I'm going to marry Felzein! I must!"
Mr Sugi, still placing the ledger back on its shelf, glanced sidelong at her, an eyebrow arching with undisguised scepticism.
After a beat, he muttered drily, "In your dreams…" and turned back into the house without so much as a backward glance.
"Faaatherrrr!!" Athifah howled in exasperation, her cry echoing through the quiet lane.