The Student Council (OSIS) Room at Rajawali High wasn't just a repurposed classroom. It was the heart of the school's bureaucracy, a fortress of glass and concrete strategically located on the second floor of the administration building, offering a bird's-eye view of the entire assembly field.
For ordinary students, entering this room meant trouble. For its members, this room was a second home as well as a battlefield.
Salma Nur Azizah stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft yet firm click. A long sigh escaped her lips. The meeting with the "little kings" of the martial arts clubs had drained her mental energy. She massaged her throbbing temples, trying to ward off an impending headache.
"Good afternoon, Madam President!" a cheerful greeting welcomed her.
It was Adel. The Student Council's Second Secretary who was also an active member of the Theater Club. She had a sweet face, round shining eyes, and an aura of innocence that made anyone want to protect her. Adel was sitting on the carpeted floor, surrounded by a mountain of activity proposals.
"Afternoon, Del," Salma replied, her voice back to being flat and controlled. The "Student Council President" mask was back on perfectly. "How's the Study Tour proposal progress?"
"80 percent done, Sis!" Adel reported enthusiastically. "Just waiting for budget approval from Zaki. But..." Adel glanced hesitantly toward the treasurer's desk.
There, Zaki, the General Treasurer, was punching numbers into a calculator looking like someone who had just been robbed. Cold sweat was visible on his forehead. Beside him stood Dimas, the rigid and procedural Vice President, pointing at the laptop screen impatiently.
"This doesn't make sense, Zak," Dimas's voice rose. "Why has the documentation budget swollen to five million? Are we renting a helicopter for filming?"
"It's the Documentation Division's request, Dim!" Zaki defended himself in frustration. "They want to rent a 4K drone and the latest mirrorless camera. They said they want the video result to look cinematic like a Hollywood movie."
"Cut it," Dimas cut in firmly. "Phone cameras are good enough. Our consumption budget is in deficit. The priority is food, not showing off."
"But Dim, if the documentation is bad, the school's portfolio..."
"Cut it!"
The tension rose. Zaki looked like he wanted to cry seeing the unbalanced numbers, while Dimas refused to compromise. Adel looked at Salma with pleading eyes, 'Sis, help...'
Salma walked toward them. The sound of her shoes made the debate stop instantly.
"What's the problem?" Salma asked calmly, standing between Zaki and Dimas.
"This, Sal," Dimas complained, turning his laptop. "Zaki wants to disburse the documentation funds which are over budget. Even though the medical fund post to buy extra First Aid kits isn't covered yet."
Salma looked at the laptop screen. Her eyes scanned the Excel columns at high speed. Her physics brain was working. Physics wasn't just about force and motion formulas, but also about system equilibrium. If one variable was too large, the system would collapse.
"Zaki," Salma called. "Cut the drone rental budget. Replace it with a personal drone owned by the Multimedia kids, give them compensation for gas money and a certificate of appreciation. That cuts the cost by 70 percent."
Zaki's eyes widened. "Eh? We can do that?"
"We can. It's called empowering student resources," Salma answered straightforwardly. Then she turned to Dimas. "And Dimas, don't be too rigid. Move 10 percent of the contingency fund to the medical post. First Aid is vital. We are taking 200 lives out of town. If someone gets sick, a mirrorless camera can't cure them."
Dimas was silent for a moment, then nodded respectfully. "Okay. Solution accepted. Execute it, Zak."
"Yes, Madam President!" Zaki smiled in relief, his fingers dancing on the calculator much lighter than before.
Adel clapped her hands lightly. "Sis Salma is the best! Problem solved instantly!"
Salma only gave a slight nod. She walked to her own desk—a large desk in the corner of the room with an acrylic glass nameplate reading "STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT". On her desk, thick Physics books (Halliday & Resnick), stacks of disposition files, and a small framed photo were neatly arranged: a photo of Salma holding a Physics Olympiad trophy.
Just as Salma was about to sit down, the door to the Student Council room was knocked on hard. Not a polite knock, but a rough pounding.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Silence enveloped the room again. Dimas frowned. "Who is that? So rude."
The door opened. In walked Mr. Budi, the portly Counseling Guidance teacher, literally dragging two male students by their collars. Behind him, two other students followed with innocent grins on their faces.
It was Maman, Asep, Toto, and Ajis. The troublemaker quartet from Class 12 Social 4.
"Salma!" Mr. Budi called, panting. "I'm handing these kids over to the Student Council first. I have an urgent meeting with the Principal. Please record their violation points and make an Official Report. They were caught gambling with cards in the warehouse behind the canteen!"
Mr. Budi released Maman and Asep, then hurried away, leaving the "time bomb" in the Student Council room.
Maman, whose hair was slightly long violating the rules, fixed his collar while clicking his tongue. "Easy, Sir. This is an expensive shirt."
Toto, who had the largest build and the fiercest face (nicknamed the Rajawali Thug), looked around the room with a scornful gaze. He walked over to Adel's desk, took a candy from the jar without permission, then ate it noisily.
"Wow, it's really cool in here. No wonder the Student Council kids feel at home. We're sweating in the warehouse, while you guys are chilling here using our tuition money," Toto sneered.
Adel looked terrified, shrinking behind her pile of proposals.
Salma stood up slowly from her chair. She didn't speak immediately. She let the silence dominate the room, building pressure. She walked toward the four problem students.
"Take it out," Salma said softly.
"Take out what, Pretty Girl?" Ajis asked with a disgusting, flirtatious tone.
"The cards and the gambling money. Put them on this table," Salma ordered, pointing to the meeting table.
Toto laughed loudly, a forced laugh. "Hear that, Guys. Madam President wants to ask for protection money. Who are you to boss us around? You're just a student, same as us. Just because you wear that armband, don't think you're the police."
Dimas stepped forward, his face red holding back anger. "Toto! Watch your attitude! Salma is the Student Council President!"
"Whatever!" Toto slammed his hand on Adel's desk. Adel squeaked in shock. "I'm not afraid of the Student Council. My dad is a foundation donor. You want to report me? Go ahead. Tomorrow my points will just be wiped clean again."
The situation heated up. Zaki was ready to run and call another teacher. Dimas clenched his fists. But Salma raised her right hand, signaling Dimas to stand down.
Salma looked Toto straight in the eye. Salma's gaze wasn't angry, but the gaze of a scientist observing a disgusting bacteria specimen.
"Toto," Salma said, her voice calm but bone-chillingly cold. "You're right. Your father is a foundation donor. PT. Sinar Abadi Construction, right?"
Toto's eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"
"I read every student profile, especially the problematic ones," Salma answered. "And did you know? Your father's company is currently bidding for the tender to renovate the school library worth 2 billion rupiah."
Salma took one step closer.
"If I write this Official Report in detail: 'Son of the owner of PT. Sinar Abadi caught conducting illegal gambling on school grounds', and I carbon copy this report not just to Counseling, but to the Foundation and the School Committee... what do you think will happen to your father's tender?"
Toto's previously fierce face slowly paled.
"The school has an ethics clause, Toto," Salma continued, pressing every word. "School partners must have a good reputation. A scandal involving the owner's son could be legal grounds for the Foundation to cancel the contract. Do you want to take responsibility if your father loses 2 billion because you were playing petty gambling?"
The room was dead silent. Ajis, Maman, and Asep looked at each other with horrified faces. They were delinquents, but they were afraid of being poor.
Toto swallowed hard. His arrogance crumbled before the bureaucratic logic Salma presented. He didn't expect Salma to attack from the family business angle, not from the school rules angle that he could underestimate.
With trembling hands, Toto reached into his pocket. He took out a deck of shabby playing cards and a few ten thousand rupiah bills. His friends followed suit.
"Put them there," Salma pointed to the corner of the table.
They obeyed like chicks.
"Dimas, record their names. Enter them into the points book, but hold the report to the Foundation. Make this the final warning," Salma ordered.
"Alright, Sal," Dimas immediately grabbed a pen, looking at the four thugs with a satisfied smile.
While Toto and his gang were being processed with heads bowed in shame, the Student Council room door was knocked on again. This time the knock was soft, rhythmic, and polite.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Come in," Salma said, sighing, thinking there was another problem.
The door opened. A head poked in. Slightly messy hair, an awkward smile, and a uniform that was a bit dull.
Salim.
He was holding a form sheet. When he entered and saw the scene inside—four school thugs bowing down in front of Salma—one of his eyebrows raised.
"Whoa," Salim quipped. "Did I walk into the lion's den or what? Why does the atmosphere feel like the Judgment Day court?"
Adel suppressed a small laugh seeing Salim's presence. "Brother Salim! Come in."
Toto turned, seeing Salim. His ego, crushed by Salma, sought an outlet. He saw an easy target: the scholarship kid.
"What are you doing here, Hobo?" Toto grumbled softly, trying to intimidate Salim to recover a shred of his dignity. "Asking for donations?"
Salim walked casually past Toto, not intimidated at all. He stopped right in front of Salma's desk.
"Asking for a signature, To. Not donations. If I want donations, I go to the Charity Agency," Salim answered lightly. He handed the paper to Salma. "Madam President, sorry to disturb. This is the merit scholarship renewal form. Needs the signature acknowledging the Student Council President."
Salma took the paper. Her hand brushed slightly against Salim's. There was a brief pause. Salma read the form. Salim's average report card score: 98. Perfect.
"You ranked first in the parallel cohort again this semester?" Salma asked, her tone slightly softer than usual, though she tried to hide it.
"Just luck, Sal. The questions happened to be easy," Salim answered humbly.
"Hah, pretending to be smart," Asep sneered from behind. "Probably cheated."
Salim turned around, looking at Asep and the pile of playing cards on the table. "Better than you, Sep. Playing cards and getting caught. That's a sign you're bad at calculating probability. If you knew the math of chance, you wouldn't gamble, because the house always wins. Unless you're the dealer."
Asep shut his mouth. Logic checkmate again.
Salim looked back at Salma. "Please, Sal. If it's not signed today, tomorrow I'll be asked to pay full tuition. I might have to sell Dani's kidney to pay."
Salma held back a smile. The corner of her lips twitched slightly. This was strange for the other Student Council members. Their ice-cold leader almost smiled at Salim's dry joke.
Salma took her expensive pen, then affixed a neat and elegant signature on the paper. She also added the wet Student Council stamp.
Thump.
"Done," Salma said, handing the form back. "Maintain your grades. The school needs a high cohort average."
"Yes, Ma'am, Will Do," Salim accepted the paper while giving a silly military salute. "Thanks, Salma. Thanks, Dimas, Zaki, Adel. And for you guys..." Salim turned to Toto and co. "...good luck explaining to your dads why your allowance got cut."
Salim strolled out of the room casually, leaving a strange positive aura in the tense room.
After Salim left, Salma looked back at Toto and his friends with a cold gaze.
"You may leave. Remember, one more mistake, that tender floats away," Salma dismissed them.
Toto and his gang hurriedly left, dragging their feet in total defeat. The Student Council room returned to calm.
"Crazy..." Adel murmured, her eyes sparkling looking at the door that just closed. "Brother Salim is... unique, right? He wasn't afraid of Toto at all. Even though Toto is huge."
"He uses his brain, Del," Dimas commented, returning to his laptop. "People who have brains are rarely afraid of people who only have muscles."
Salma sat back in her chair. She looked at her hand that had held Salim's form. There was a strange feeling tickling her chest. Respect? Admiration? Or something else?
She looked at the Physics book on her desk. Physics taught that two particles with different charges would attract each other.
Salma: Peak position, authority, order.
Salim: Bottom position, freedom, calculated chaos.
They were different poles. But that was exactly what made Salma always curious about Salim's way of thinking.
"Adel, Zaki, Dimas," Salma called, refocusing. "Let's get back to work. This Study Tour must be perfect. There cannot be a single mistake. Understood?"
"Yes, Sis!"
Behind her iron mask, Salma hid immense exhaustion. She wanted this study tour to succeed so she could rest for a moment. To be an ordinary student. Maybe have a casual chat with Salim without the barriers of position.
However, Salma didn't know that the perfection she pursued in this study tour preparation would instead become the stage for their greatest nightmare. Where her position as Student Council President would mean nothing compared to brutal survival skills.
Salma watched the sunset from the Student Council room window, unaware that it was one of the last sunsets she would view with a sense of safety.