The days following their late-night canal ride settled into a new rhythm—one neither of them had planned, but both began to cherish deeply.
Mornings started early at Toko Kue Palm Sari. By six, the smell of butter and pandan filled the shophouse kitchen. Hana, now comfortably part of the routine, had learned to wear her apron before she was even fully awake. She was no longer just a guest. She had become part of the family's rhythm.
She helped Mrs. Wulan knead dough while Phuby arranged the storefront and prepared the register system on his tablet. Occasionally, customers walked in early just to say good morning, and many stayed just to chat with Hana in broken English and even more broken Japanese.
"Selamat pagi!" she would chirp, handing them a sample of bika ambon.
"Arigatou, neng!" old ladies would reply, thrilled by her politeness.
One of the regulars—a retired schoolteacher named Bu Irma—even began bringing Hana little gifts: an embroidered handkerchief, a bottle of minyak kayu putih, and once, a paperback Bahasa Indonesia dictionary from 1988.
"For your lessons," she'd said with a kind smile.
Hana kept them all on her nightstand.
---
A Growing Audience
The livestreams had now become a scheduled event—twice a week, usually on Wednesday and Saturday evenings. What started as an experiment became a small phenomenon among Phuby's viewers.
They called it #PalmSariLive, and it blended casual baking, slice-of-life humor, and relationship teases that neither confirmed nor denied what everyone suspected.
Comments rolled in:
> "Bro I swear I watch for the cooking but stay for the chemistry." "They need a couples channel ASAP." "Hana is the only reason I know what kue lapis legit looks like."
One episode even made it to TikTok's "FYP" when Hana dropped an entire tray of klepon and exclaimed, "Maafkan aku, kue hijau!" in a perfect Indonesian accent, complete with over-the-top bowing.
It racked up 320k likes in two days.
The bakery received more online orders that week than in the entire first month of reopening.
Phuby's face hurt from smiling. For once, it felt like his dreams weren't just surviving—they were thriving. His livestreaming setup, once tucked away in his cramped bedroom, was now woven into the daily life of their family business. His passion had found a purpose.
And Hana... Hana had gone from online fantasy to real-life partner in the most unexpected and beautiful way.
---
Late-Night Conversations
On one quiet Thursday night, after the store had closed and the leftover pastries were packed into Tupperware, Phuby and Hana sat at the rooftop again. They brought warm roti sobek and two cups of sweet teh tarik.
The stars were clear. The air smelled of distant warungs and wet stone.
"Do you miss Japan?" Phuby asked, breaking off a piece of bread.
Hana nodded slowly. "Sometimes. Mostly the food. My mom's cooking. The trains that arrive exactly on time."
"And your friends?"
"Some," she admitted. "But most of them don't really understand why I came here. They think I'm reckless. One even asked if I was being scammed."
Phuby winced. "Ouch."
Hana laughed. "I mean, I did fly across the world for a guy I met online. It sounds crazy if you say it out loud."
"But you're still here."
"I am."
A silence hung in the air, not heavy, but thoughtful. Phuby turned toward her.
"Do you ever think about what's next?" he asked. "Like... are you going to stay? Or are you just... visiting?"
Hana looked up at the stars. "I don't know yet. My visa is good for a few more months. I guess I'm just... waiting to see where this goes."
Her voice was gentle, but the weight behind her words was clear.
Phuby nodded. "Fair. I don't want to rush anything. I just... I like this. Us."
"I like this too," she said, nudging her shoulder into his.
They didn't say much after that. Just sat quietly, sharing bread and letting the night wrap around them like a soft blanket.
---
Meanwhile, Downstairs...
Mrs. Wulan stood in the kitchen with Om Luky, watching the ceiling as the faint hum of voices drifted down from the rooftop.
"They're always up there," she murmured with a smile.
Om Luky nodded. "They seem happy."
Mrs. Wulan leaned against the sink. "He's different with her. More... focused. Like he's found something to believe in."
"He has," Luky said simply. "And it's not just her."
She looked at him.
"It's himself."
---
A Decision
The next morning, as they set up for the Saturday #PalmSariLive stream, Hana lingered in the kitchen a little longer than usual. Phuby noticed.
"You okay?" he asked.
She looked up. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"About what?"
Hana hesitated, then smiled. "I was thinking... maybe next stream, we tell them."
Phuby blinked. "Tell them what?"
She gave him a playful look. "That we're not just roommates."
His heart skipped. "You sure?"
Hana nodded. "I want to stop hiding. It's not a big deal, right?"
Phuby exhaled. "It is. But in a good way."
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Then let's do it."
---