Arlan stood in front of an old wooden cabinet in the corner of the house. He opened the door, finding a small box filled with his father's memorabilia—a silver compass, a worn sea map, and a photograph that was now his most prized possession.

The photo had always caught his attention, even as a child. However, his father always ended discussions about Salsabila with a bitter smile. "She's someone I hope to meet again," he said simply, without ever explaining further.

After his father's funeral, Arlan felt lost. His father was a strict but loving figure. He always remembered his father's hug before leaving for the sea, a hug full of promises that he would return. But that promise was not always kept, like the story of Salsabila which ended without certainty.

"If I could find him," Arlan muttered as he stared at the photo, "maybe I could get to know Dad better too."

The decision was made on a whim, without any solid planning. Arlan brought only the photo, a few personal belongings, and courage. He knew the journey would not be easy, but he felt this was something he had to do—for himself, and for his father.