The first light of dawn slipped through the thin curtains, brushing the pale walls of their small apartment with gold. The air was still — too still, Yuni thought. Back home, mornings were never quiet.
In the village, dawn began like a song. Birds chirped before the sky even turned blue, their calls echoing through the trees. The rooster would crow once, then twice, and then the whole village seemed to wake at once. You could hear the rhythm of life everywhere — the creak of wooden carts, the splashing of water as women drew from the well, the soft hum of her mother's morning song blending with the rustle of leaves.
And then there was the smell — fresh, damp earth after dew, mingled with woodsmoke and wildflowers. It was the scent of home.
Now, there was none of that.
The first sound she heard was a distant honk, sharp and mechanical. Then another. The faint murmur of engines, footsteps below, someone calling out prices in a rough, hurried voice. It was as though the world had woken up all at once — no birds, no rhythm, just... movement.
Still, Yuni couldn't call it unpleasant. There was something alive in it — a pulse beneath the noise. A different kind of heartbeat.
She turned over, blinking against the sunlight. Beside her, Aeris was still fast asleep, his small hand clutching his pillow like a lifeline. His hair was sticking up wildly, and his lips moved as though he was still talking in his dreams. Yuni smiled faintly.
She shifted quietly, drawing back the curtain. Light poured in, washing the room in warmth. For the first time, she really saw the city — the narrow lane below already full of motion, the sky caught between orange and blue, the rooftops glinting like mirrors. Vendors pushed carts, their voices rising and falling like waves. Children in uniforms laughed as they chased each other down the street. A bicycle bell chimed, followed by the soft call of a tea seller.
The world was awake — loudly, proudly alive.
It was nothing like the village... yet something about it stirred her curiosity."Different," she whispered to herself. "But not bad."
"Already awake?" her mother's voice came from behind, soft and warm.
Yuni turned to see her mother at the doorway, hair tied loosely, holding two chipped cups of tea. The steam curled gently upward, carrying the faint aroma of cardamom.
Yuni accepted one. "Couldn't sleep much," she admitted.
Her mother smiled knowingly. "The noise takes getting used to. In the village, we had silence and birds. Here we have people and machines." She sipped her tea and added, "But even noise can sound like music, if you listen long enough."
Yuni tilted her head. "You really think so?"
Her mother nodded, her eyes glimmering. "Every place has a rhythm. You just have to find it."
Yuni took a sip, savoring the warmth. The taste reminded her of home — even if everything else felt new.
A soft groan interrupted the moment. Aeris sat up, blinking sleepily. "Why is it so loud?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Because the city doesn't sleep," Yuni teased.
He frowned. "That's stupid. Everyone should sleep."
Their mother chuckled, setting her cup aside. "Get up, sleepyhead. Today we make this place ours."
Aeris looked around at the clutter — the half-open boxes, the rolled-up carpets, the pile of clothes in one corner — and groaned again. "That's gonna take forever."
"Then we'd better start now," came their father's voice from the next room. He appeared in the doorway, stretching. "The sooner we work, the sooner we rest."
"Can't we rest first?" Aeris muttered.
Yuni laughed, standing. "You sound just like Baba when he had to plow the fields."
Her father smirked. "And who ended up helping me every time?"
Yuni raised an eyebrow. "Because you bribed me with mangoes."
Their mother sighed, smiling. "You two can argue after breakfast. Come help me unpack the kitchen."
By midmorning, the apartment was alive with sound — not the sound of the city, but of family.Boxes were opened, laughter spilled out, and dust rose like sunlight dancing in the air.
"Careful, Yuni!" her father called. "That's the box with glass!"
"I am careful," she replied, lifting it anyway.
Aeris ran around with a broom twice his size, pretending it was a sword. "Behold! The Dust Slayer!"
Her mother's voice came from the kitchen, half-laughing, half-exasperated. "You'll break something!"
"I'm protecting the kingdom!" Aeris declared dramatically — then immediately tripped over a rug.
Yuni burst into laughter, setting the box down. Her father shook his head, though his lips twitched with amusement.
Even with all the mess, the room felt lighter — filled with the familiar warmth of voices overlapping and the soft rhythm of shared work.
They began with the living room.Her father measured the space, trying to fit the old sofa against the wall.
"It's too big," Yuni said.
"It's not too big," he insisted. "The wall's too small."
Her mother sighed. "The wall won't grow, dear."
Aeris piped up, "We can cut the sofa!"
"No!" everyone shouted at once, and the boy grinned proudly. "Just testing."
After three tries, two arguments, and one near disaster involving a toppled box, the sofa finally found its place — angled perfectly by the window.
"See?" her father said smugly. "Told you it would fit."
Her mother smirked. "Yes, after rearranging half the house."
Next came the small decorations — pieces of their old life tucked into new corners.Yuni found the clay wind chime she'd made when she was little. It had cracks now, but the faint jingle still played when she shook it gently.
"Should I hang it here?" she asked.
Her mother nodded. "Yes, near the window. Let the wind sing again."
Yuni tied it carefully, and when the breeze slipped through, the sound was faint but clear — like a whisper from their old home.
She paused, listening. Something inside her softened.
By afternoon, the air smelled faintly of detergent, spices, and sunlight. Their mother cooked rice and lentils, filling the home with the scent of comfort. They sat on the floor to eat, surrounded by half-empty boxes and laughter.
"This curry tastes different," Yuni said after a bite.
Her mother smiled. "New kitchen, new flavor."
"Or maybe the gas stove is just moody," her father joked, earning a playful glare.
Aeris, chewing noisily, added, "It's good! Can we have sweets after?"
"We don't have sweets," Yuni said.
Aeris pouted. "Then can we buy some? The shop outside smells nice."
Her father ruffled his hair. "Tomorrow. Today we build our home; tomorrow we'll explore the city."
The rest of the day passed like a warm dream — music playing softly from a neighbor's window, sunlight pooling on the floor, the steady rhythm of cleaning, arranging, fixing.
They hung curtains, wiped glass, folded old clothes. Her mother arranged flowers in an old jar. Aeris drew a little sign that read "Our Home" and taped it crookedly on the wall.
By late afternoon, they were tired but smiling.
Her father leaned against the doorframe. "It's starting to look like something."
Her mother nodded. "It's starting to feel like something too."
Yuni looked around. The walls were still cracked, the paint faded, but now — with their laughter and small things filling it — the apartment no longer felt empty. It was theirs.
As evening fell, the city lights bloomed like fireflies outside the window. The hum of life continued — laughter from nearby balconies, the clatter of dishes, distant music.
Yuni stood by the window, watching. The skyline glowed gold, then silver. The air was cool, and when the wind passed through, the chime sang softly.
Her mother joined her, a cup of tea in hand. "It's loud, isn't it?"
"A little," Yuni admitted. "But... it's also beautiful."
Her mother smiled. "You're beginning to see it."
Yuni hesitated, then asked, "Do you think we'll be happy here?"
Her mother looked thoughtful. "Happiness doesn't come all at once. You grow it, like we grew the fields back home. It starts small — with mornings like this, dinners like tonight."
Yuni smiled faintly. "Then maybe we've already started."
Her father called from across the room, "Who's burning the tea?"
Her mother gasped. "Oh, no—" and hurried off, leaving Yuni laughing quietly by the window.
Outside, the world pulsed — not just with noise, but with life. The scent of food drifted from a street vendor below, music echoed faintly from somewhere far away.
And for the first time, Yuni didn't feel like an outsider watching from behind the glass. She felt part of it.
She whispered softly, almost to herself, "Maybe this isn't so different after all."
That night, the family ate together under the soft glow of a single lightbulb. Aeris talked endlessly about exploring tomorrow, his hands waving animatedly. Her father told stories of his first visit to the city when he was young. Her mother smiled quietly, her eyes tired but full.
After dinner, they sat together in content silence — the kind that only families share after a long, honest day.
Yuni watched the reflection of the city lights dance across the window. Somewhere below, a dog barked. A lullaby of city life hummed gently around them.
When she finally went to bed, she looked once more toward the window — the wind chime glinting faintly under moonlight.
Maybe tomorrow would be easier. Maybe someday, this strange new place would stop feeling borrowed and start feeling like home.
But the city had its own plans.
That night, while the family slept beneath the quiet hum of their new home, something outside began to stir — a sound, a voice, a moment that would change everything.
Yuni didn't know it yet... but tomorrow wouldn't just be another day.
For now, that hope was enough.
🖤🖤🖤.....
Chapter 10: Morning in a New World 🌅 — End
"It's not the same sun, not the same song — but it's still morning, and it's still ours."
If you liked this warm, cozy chapter of new beginnings and family bonds, leave a comment below 💬💛Tell me — what do you think Yuni and Aeris will find next in this unfamiliar but beautiful city?