Indonesian
Chanu
Emma
"Ya aku orang Indonesia."
The declaration, spoken with a clear, almost defiant tone, hit Chanu differently than the previous one-word responses. It wasn't an "ok," or a "halo." It was a piece of information, a self-identification, delivered in the same language as her earlier bewildered question. His eyes, which had been scanning her for reactions, widened slightly. A faint, almost imperceptible nod of understanding passed over his face, as if a small, previously missing puzzle piece had just clicked into place. The pieces were still scattered, but at least now he knew the shape of some of them.
"Ah, itu dia!" My voice was a blend of genuine realization and playful exasperation. I clapped my hands together softly, a theatrical gesture of breakthrough. "Okay, that explains the 'aku lagi ada di mana ini sekarang' part." My gaze swept over her, a newfound context coloring his perception. "So, you're Indonesian. Got it. That's... a much more substantial piece of information than 'halo' or 'ok'." A relieved, almost triumphant smile spread across my face. "See? We're making progress. Small steps, but progress nonetheless."
He leaned forward slightly, his posture shifting from relaxed amusement to active engagement. The enigma of Emma was still largely intact, but now there was a tangible thread to follow. His brain, always keen on patterns and connections, was already sifting through possibilities. This wasn't just about her current location anymore; it was about her. And Chanu, in his own way, was getting hooked. The challenge was morphing into something deeper, more personal.
"So, Emma," I began, my voice dropping back to that low, engaging tone, but with a new layer of focused curiosity. "You're Indonesian. That's cool. And you were wondering where you are." I paused, letting the statement hang in the air, allowing her to confirm or elaborate. "Does being Indonesian have anything to do with why you don't know where you are?" My eyes were locked onto hers, a direct, piercing gaze, yet softened by genuine interest. "Or did you just... find yourself here, and your first thought was to wonder about your geographical coordinates in your native tongue?" I gave a small, knowing smirk. "Because if so, I gotta say, that's a pretty unique way to start your day."
He maintained eye contact, his presence assertive but not intimidating. He was offering an invitation, a bridge for her to cross. The playful cockiness was still there, a core part of his persona, but it was overlaid with a genuine desire to understand this intriguing person in front of him. He wasn't just flirting; he was investigating. And Emma, with her unexpected responses and curious nature, was proving to be the most fascinating case he'd encountered in a long time. He felt a quiet thrill of anticipation. What would she say next? And more importantly, what was her story?
"So, spill it, Emma," I urged softly, a gentle prod rather than a demand. "Indonesia's a big place. Are we talking Jakarta? Bali? Or did you just land here from... well, another dimension entirely, and your brain defaults to Indonesian?" A challenging glint entered my eyes. "Because if it's the last one, you might just be the most interesting person I've met all year. And trust me, I meet a lot of interesting people." My grin widened, a confident invitation. "So, what's the real story, Emma?"
