Chapter 3 — Pinky Promnise

 “I'm frustrated.". This is still a mess, Karina! The consultant is already asking for the final version.” Sheets of paper were tapped on the table. Mr. Dirga was furious that his article wasn’t finished.

I looked down, my eyes brimming with tears as I stared at him. “I’m sorry, Sir. I will finish it tonight.”

“If you can’t even handle being a resident, how do you expect to be a doctor?” the chief resident stared into my eyes. He left the room, closing the door sharply.

I saw Orion looking surprised through the window. The research staff chased after Mr. Dirga, while Libra looked at me with concern. I gave a reassuring smile.

“You actually submitted it a month ago for review, but Mr. Dirga always checks it right at the deadline....” Libra smiled bitterly, tidying the papers on the desk. “I’m sorry, Karina. I can’t help. I have a night shift.”

I nodded, taking the papers from his hand.

The evening sky slowly bled into night. The wall clock spun rapidly. The drizzle made my chest feel tight. My heart beat faster. The research room felt cold. The staff had gone home; I was alone. My hands typed swiftly, my eyes fixed on the bright screen.

Drtt!

The door creaked softly. I turned to find Orion closing the door. His body was wrapped in a wet jacket, a bag in his grip. His comma hair was dripping with water.

“Haven’t you already finished your shift, Sir?” I asked with a smile.

He scratched his eyebrow. “Oh... I forgot my notes.” He pointed to the drawer.

Slowly, the chair beside me creaked. A jacket was draped over the backrest. His bag opened to reveal a laptop, stopping my typing. I watched him.

“I’ll help you revise Dirga’s article. You focus on the lab article. You’re going to the orphanage with Libra tomorrow, right?” he said, sitting down beside me. His laptop was side-by-side with mine.

I stared at him intently. Suddenly, my smile widened uncontrollably. “Sir... You don’t have to help. You have a meeting tomorrow morning,” I said softly.

“I know this isn’t your fault. It isn’t fair.” Ignoring my words, his hand took Mr. Dirga’s article, his eyes focused on the screen, his fingers moving nimbly across the keyboard.

Lost in thought, I nodded. “Yeah... it’s not fair, Sir. I felt like crying earlier.”

His typing stopped. He looked at me. “Why didn't you protest to Dirga?”

“Regardless, this is my responsibility, Sir. It’s not too late to finish everything. After it's done, I’ll definitely have a debate with Mr. Dirga.” I gave a "Pepsodent" grin, trying to lighten the mood so Orion wouldn't feel sorry for me.

Silent, Orion seemed to freeze while looking at me.

“Sir... You must think I’m really cool, right?” Corny, I gave a horse-like grin.

Snapping out of it, he chuckled softly. Changing the subject, he took the lab article.

“When someone feels emotional intimacy, the Amygdala—the brain's alarm system—will calm down, and cortisol—the stress hormone—will decrease...,” he explained while revising the discussion. “Someone with high emotional support during a difficult situation has significantly lower cortisol levels compared to those who don't.”

Orion pointed at a word, prompting me to press delete, helping me revise correctly. Truly, I was grateful for Orion. A teacher, a colleague, a family figure who was always there and helpful. Ah! Why did this feel like Steven Porges' Polyvagal Theory—the feeling of comfort with someone can calm the nervous system. My vagus nerve—the key to the rest system—seemed to be telling me that I was safe with him.

I was mesmerized by his explanation; my eyes accidentally drifted to his lips. I hissed softly, a daydreaming smile framing my face. I was confused about what kind of feeling this was. It didn't feel wrong, but it didn't feel right either. His eyes also drifted to my lips; he scratched the back of his neck. We locked eyes, our elbows touching as his hand crossed over mine.

“I’m helping you, but don't fall for me....” He placed the article next to my laptop. “You probably only like me because you feel sorry for me,” he said with a soft laugh, triggering a small laugh from me.

“Why are you being so kind to me then, Sir? Because you feel sorry for me too, right?” I asked jokingly, pointing my index finger at him. “In the end, we’re both helping each other because of the pity growing between us,” I said with a soft smile.

He didn't deny it; a dreamy smile lingered on his lips as he looked at me. Suddenly, he gently folded my index finger. His hand was clenched tight in the air, just like mine.

“Promise, strictly platonic.”

“I promise.” I gave a thumbs up and a wide grin.

Slowly, his fist bumped mine as our small laughter was swallowed by time. Fingers returned to the keyboard. Eyes remained busy staring at the light.

Gradually, the night blew away with the drizzle. This emotional closeness made my heart beat calmly; my tense muscles slowly relaxed. My breath drew in long with the clouds. One by one, the sun stole the heart amidst the heat. As the van drove over the bumpy asphalt, my knees tapped against the dashboard, waking me from my fragmented sleep.

“Wake up, Karina. We’ve arrived at the orphanage,” Libra said, opening the van door, making me blink as I stepped out.

The van was parked on a brushy road, across from rice fields and a flowing river. We arrived at the orphanage near the house to continue our small lab research; the independent study by Libra, Ara, me, and Orion.

“Did Mr. Orion help you yesterday? What time did you get home? Was Mr. Dirga angry?” Libra rambled curiously; he didn't know because he was busy with his night shift.

“Yeah, he helped. I got home at eleven p.m. Luckily it’s finished; I gave it to Mr. Dirga and his response was flat.” I gave a toothy smile while grabbing my backpack from the back.

“Oh, you’re here!”

The head of the orphanage welcomed us, her smile widening enthusiastically. She was followed by friendly teenagers carrying trays. They were decorated in batik, filled with crafts, flowers, and even leaf hats. I chuckled while ruffling their hair.

“Do you want this, Sister Karina? This is a gift,” Rina asked. I just realized that Rina—my neighbor—was there.

Leaning down, I looked into her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Mom and Dad Bisma are at work. That’s why Rina was dropped off here.” She smiled widely.

With a smile, I took the pen, covered in a cute duck doodle, combined with batik floral patterns.

Reaching into my pocket, I gave her the small keychain Libra had given me. A biology glossary ball that could glow brightly. Rina smiled happily as she received it.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, and we went inside.

Books were wide open; teenagers sat in a circle. A caregiver sat in the room. A whiteboard adorned the wall. I distributed the questionnaires, while Libra drew a box on the board.

“Everyone, we are conducting a research project. We want to know how you feel close to others and how much you need their support. Just check the answer that best fits your feelings on the answer sheet, from ‘agree’ to ‘disagree’,” Libra explained while showing an example on the board.

After the questionnaire was finished, Libra spoke with the head of the orphanage. I sat on the carpet next to Rina. The thirteen-year-old was in the corner drawing a doodle by herself. Truly, I was amazed by her drawing.

“Your drawing is good, dear. I don’t think I could draw as well as this,” I praised with a thumbs up, causing her smile to bloom perfectly.

Accidentally, my eyes saw her fingers, which were raw and damp. “What happened to your finger?” I asked gently.

Rina smiled, the pen slipping from her grip. “Oh, this... It’s from swimming too long at home.” Her palm wiped hard against her trousers.

I nodded, keeping my tone casual. “Oh... so you like swimming?”

She nodded.

“If you stay in too long, your body can get cold. I’m just worried,” I said softly.

“It’s okay, Sister. Rina likes it...” She chuckled. “Sometimes Rina swims until three in the morning.”

My eyebrows rose; I kept my expression calm. “Three in the morning? Who do you usually swim with?” I asked cautiously.

“Dad Bisma!” Rina exclaimed brightly. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at me.

“Oh... so Dad Bisma is the one who taught you how to swim?”

“Yes, Sister. All styles...” she said enthusiastically. “Sometimes frog style, breaststroke. Sometimes he invites me to play, too.”

I held my breath. My voice remained soft. “What do you mean by playing, Rina?”

Rina hugged her knees. Her lips curled into a smile. “Playing in the pool...” she said hesitantly.

I moved a bit closer, still maintaining a safe distance. “What kind of play in the pool?”

She whispered in my ear. “Tickling each other. Until we're tired, Sister.” She laughed softly.

My smile stayed in place, but my chest tightened. I restrained myself from overreacting.

"Rina is telling you because you’re nice, Sister. Promise not to tell... Rina loves Dad Bisma. Since Rina’s biological father died, Dad Bisma is the only one who cares about Rina," Rina said, looking at me intently.

I swallowed hard. Emotional closeness can cause dependency. There is a thin line between affection and love there. In the relationship between a stepfather and a child, there is a gap and power dynamic; the adult clearly holds the power, they know and can choose what is right or wrong. If that boundary is crossed even slightly, it falls into emotional grooming.

I gave a thin smile. Rina went back to drawing on the paper.

Two gray clouds tightly embraced the drizzling sun. I looked at Rina; her face was smiling, but her eyes were bloodshot. Truly, I had to report this to Ara.

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