The last period was always a test of mental endurance for high school students, and the occupants of Class XII Science 1 were no exception. The scorching afternoon sun pierced through the half-closed blinds, creating orange stripes of light that sliced through the room. Chalk dust floated within those beams, dancing atop the restless silence.
Civics Education with Mr. Bambang was usually boring. Mr. Bambang was a senior teacher whose voice was monotonous, like an AM radio broadcast at midnight running low on batteries. However, today was different. Mr. Bambang decided to raise a sensitive topic: Social Justice.
On the blackboard, one large sentence was written in white chalk: "Social Justice for All People. Myth or Fact?"
"I want an open discussion today," Mr. Bambang said, loosening his tie that seemed to be choking him. "We often hear this Fifth Principle during the flag ceremony every Monday. But in practice in our country—or even in the smallest environment like this school—has justice been upheld? Please give your opinions. Participation points will be recorded."
The class went silent for a moment. This was a heavy topic. Saying the wrong thing could be considered subversive or just plain cringe.
Rinto raised his hand confidently. He sat in the middle row, surrounded by his "cronies"—fellow rich kids. His uniform sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off a TAG Heuer watch that cost as much as Salim's living expenses for two years.
"Yes, Rinto? Go ahead," Mr. Bambang pointed.
Rinto stood up. He adjusted his collar for a moment, then smirked with a condescending smile.
"In my opinion, Sir, justice already exists. It's just that the definition is often misinterpreted by... less fortunate people," Rinto started, emphasizing the last two words. His eyes glanced briefly toward the back corner, where Salim sat calmly twirling his pen.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Bambang prodded.
"Many people think justice means 'equality'. Everyone gets the same share. But true justice is proportional, Sir," Rinto continued, his voice loud. "Whoever works harder, whoever has bigger capital, naturally gets bigger results. Poor people often blame the system, when maybe the problem lies in their own mentality. They're lazy, unwilling to innovate, just waiting for government handouts. That's not injustice, that's natural selection."
The previously sleepy atmosphere suddenly tensed up. Rinto's argument was sharp, elitist, and highly provocative. A few students nodded in agreement—those born with silver spoons in their mouths. However, most students remained silent, feeling uncomfortable.
Dani, sitting next to Salim, clenched his fist under the table. "That bastard. He talks about 'hard work' when he bribed his way in through the back door."
Salim held Dani's arm gently. His face remained flat, but his eyes were focused on Rinto's back. He knew Rinto wasn't talking about national politics. Rinto was talking about him. About his jealousy seeing Maya close to Salim.
"Does anyone want to rebut?" Mr. Bambang asked, his eyes gleaming with interest at the heating classroom dynamics.
Salim raised his hand. His movement was casual, not aggressive.
"Yes, Salim. Go ahead."
Salim didn't stand up. He leaned his back against the chair, his posture relaxed yet dominating in a different way.
"Rinto's theory is interesting, Sir," Salim said, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "But there is one variable he forgot to input into his 'justice' formula: The Starting Point."
Rinto turned around, staring at Salim with a challenging raised eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" Rinto asked directly, forgetting his manners towards the teacher.
"Think of it like a 100-meter sprint," Salim continued, his eyes locking onto Rinto without blinking. "You said the winner is the one who works the hardest. Okay, agreed. But the problem is, you started running at the 80-meter mark because your dad provided the best running shoes, a personal trainer, and complete nutrition. Meanwhile, there are others who have to start from zero meters, barefoot, haven't had breakfast, and their legs are chained by their parents' debts."
Salim smirked crookedly. "If the barefoot guy loses the race to you, is it fair for you to say he lost because of his 'lazy mentality'? Even though his effort to run just one meter required ten times the energy of your effort to run to the finish line."
"Social justice isn't about dividing the results equally, Rin. It's about equalizing the starting line. Or at least, unlocking the chains on that poor runner's legs so he can actually run," Salim concluded.
Dani clapped very slowly, murmuring, "Checkmate, Boss."
Rinto's face turned bright red. His meritocracy argument was shattered by a simple, striking analogy. His ego was severely wounded, especially seeing Maya in the front row looking at Salim with admiration—a look Maya never gave him.
Rinto lost his composure. He no longer attacked the argument; he attacked the person.
"Hah, you're only good at theories," Rinto spat, his voice rising. "In reality, people like you can only complain about starting lines. You're in this school because of cross-subsidies from my tuition fees! I pay a fortune so the school can give scholarships to parasites like you!"
"Rinto!" Mr. Bambang scolded loudly. "Watch your language. No personal attacks."
But Rinto was already too deep. He ignored Mr. Bambang. He pointed his index finger at Salim's face.
"I saw you in the canteen earlier, pretending to reject Maya's food but eating it in the end. That's a beggar mentality, Lim. You exploit your rich friends—Dani, Rizki, Maya—so you can taste the good life. You think they're really your friends? They just pity you! You're just their pet so they can look humble!"
SLAM!
The sound of a desk being slammed rang out loudly.
It wasn't Salim who slammed it. Nor was it Dani who was ready to throw his pencil case.
It was Maya.
Maya stood up from her chair, breathing heavily. Her wooden chair was pushed back roughly. Her beautiful face, usually gentle, was now flushed red, holding back exploding anger.
"Enough, Rinto!" Maya shouted. Her voice trembled, not from fear, but from overflowing emotion.
The whole class fell silent. Rinto jumped in surprise. He had never seen Maya this angry. Usually, Maya was a polite, elegant girl who avoided conflict.
"You've crossed the line," Maya said, her eyes glassy as she stared at Rinto. "What do you use to measure a person's self-worth? Shoe brands? Car models? How expensive the tuition your parents pay is?"
"May, I was just..." Rinto tried to defend himself, his guts shrinking seeing the anger of the girl he liked.
"Shut up!" Maya cut him off. She stepped out of her desk, standing in the aisle, becoming a living shield between Rinto and Salim. "For your information, Rin. Salim never asked for anything from us. He never asked for free meals, never asked for free rides. We offered because we respect him as a best friend, not as a charity object like you said!"
Maya pointed at Rinto's chest. "You call him a parasite? Look in the mirror, Rin! Without your dad's money, who are you? What can you do? Salim can solve calculus problems without tools. Salim can make a killer teacher smile. Salim has a brain and a heart that your Black Card can't buy!"
"Maya, that's enough..." Rizki called softly, trying to mediate as the situation spiraled out of control.
"No, Ki. Let him realize," Maya still stared sharply at Rinto. "You're jealous, aren't you? You're jealous because Salim has something you don't, even though you're filthy rich. You don't have genuine respect from others. People are friends with you because of your money, Rin. But people are friends with Salim because he is Salim."
Those words stabbed Rinto more painfully than a physical punch. The truth he had denied all this time was shouted right in his face by the girl he desired.
Rinto stood frozen stiff. His face went pale, then turned a dark red from unbearable shame. He looked around. His classmates looked at him with strange expressions—a mix of pity and disgust.
Mr. Bambang cleared his throat loudly, breaking the suffocating tension.
"Enough. Sit down, everyone," Mr. Bambang ordered with an authoritarian tone that brooked no argument. "Maya, Rinto, sit down. This debate has gone off the rails."
Maya took a deep breath, wiped the corner of her eyes which were slightly wet with emotion, then sat back down. She didn't look back, but her shoulders were still rising and falling, suppressing her anger.
Salim stared at Maya's back with a look that was hard to decipher. There was warmth spreading in his chest, a gratitude for being defended so fiercely. But at the same time, his mathematical logic screamed a warning.
Maya... you just declared open war on Rinto for my sake. You made the dividing line even clearer. In this school world, maybe you won the moral debate. But in the real world, your bravery could backfire.
Salim knew Rinto wasn't the type to introspect after being scolded. Rinto was the type to hold a grudge, nurture it, and detonate it when the opportunity arose. And that opportunity, Salim feared, would come at the worst possible time.
"Alright," Mr. Bambang said, trying to return the class's focus even though the atmosphere was shattered. "What just happened is a real example of how difficult it is to uphold the Fifth Principle. Ego, social status, and prejudice are justice's biggest enemies."
Mr. Bambang closed his handbook. He walked to the front of the teacher's desk, looking at his students one by one with a serious gaze different from usual.
"Listen, kids. You live in a comfortable bubble right now. Some are rich, some are less fortunate. Some are powerful, some are commoners. Here, in this classroom, your parents' status can still protect you."
Mr. Bambang paused, his eyes stopping right on Rinto, then shifting to Salim.
"But remember my words. The outside world is a jungle. And sometimes, there are extreme situations where money has no value. Where parents' big names cannot help. In such situations, 'justice' will find its own form. A more primal form. The strong, the smart, they are the ones who survive."
"I hope you are ready if that day comes. Because when human laws collapse, the laws of nature prevail."
The final bell rang loudly, cutting off Mr. Bambang's advice that sounded like a bad omen.
Students scrambled out faster than usual, wanting to escape the tension in the class. Rinto grabbed his bag roughly, kicked a desk leg as he passed, and glared at Salim before storming out without saying goodbye.
Salim remained sitting calmly, packing his stationery which consisted only of a single pen. Dani and Rizki waited for him.
"Damn... Maya was savage back there," Dani whispered in awe. "I got goosebumps. Like watching a lioness protecting her cub."
"Her cub?" Salim raised an eyebrow.
"I mean protecting her mate, duh! Don't play dumb," Dani corrected.
Maya walked toward their table. She was calmer, but her face still showed traces of emotion.
"Lim, sorry I got emotional earlier," Maya said softly, her eyes conveying gentleness. "I just couldn't accept him talking like that."
Salim stood up, slinging his bag over his left shoulder. He looked at Maya intensely. This time, no jokes, no sarcasm.
"Thanks, May," Salim said sincerely. "But next time, don't waste your energy on people like Rinto. He doesn't deserve emotion that expensive."
Maya smiled thinly, slightly relieved. "As long as he attacks my friend, I won't stay silent."
"Let's go back," Rizki invited. "My treat for ice cream out front. My head is heating up listening to Rinto's trash talk."
The four of them walked out of the class. In the crowded corridor, they looked solid. But in the corner of Salim's heart, Mr. Bambang's warning echoed.
The strong, the smart, they are the ones who survive.
Salim watched Rinto's back receding at the end of the corridor, then looked at Maya beside him. He realized one thing: If the law of the jungle ever truly applied, Rinto would definitely target Maya to hurt Salim. And Salim swore, if that time came, he wouldn't use mathematical logic to solve it. He would use a method far more calculative and painful.
The Sukabumi sky that afternoon was blood red, as if signaling that the peaceful days at Rajawali High were counting down to their destruction.