The next morning, the crow of a rooster woke Boni earlier than usual. The sun had just begun to sneak through the wooden slats of his window, casting a warm glow throughout the room. The cool, fresh village air reminded him of his childhood, something he often forgot amidst the city's chaos. He sat on his bed, still sleepy, and rubbed his face.
"It's been a while since I woke up to a rooster's crow." he muttered with a small smile.
After a shower and breakfast with his mother and his younger brother, Raka, who was still in elementary school, Boni grabbed his old notebook and stepped out of the house. Today, he planned to meet Yuni again under the old durian tree behind the elementary school. It had been their secret spot as kids, a place for playing, hiding, and sometimes crying together.
When he arrived, Yuni was already there, sitting on a rope swing hanging from one of the tree's thick branches. She wore a plain white shirt and knee-length cotton pants, looking relaxed as the wind played with her long, straight black hair.
"You're late." Yuni said without turning, her voice flat but laced with a sweet sarcasm.
"We just started working together and you're already nagging?" Boni replied with a grin, sitting on a large root next to the swing.
"I made a list of our old friends." Yuni said, handing him a piece of paper. "Some still live here, the rest have moved away."
Boni read the paper slowly. Names that once were just memories resurfaced, Rio, the guitar boy who often performed on the village stage, Lilis, the smart and disciplined former student council president and Tigor, a big guy with a heart as soft as cotton.
"Are you sure they still care about this village?" Boni asked, doubtful.
Yuni nodded firmly. "At the very least, they have a reason to listen. If we can convince them, this could turn into a real movement."
Boni took a deep breath. "Alright. Let's start with the ones closest to us. Who can we visit today?"
"Let's start with Rio. He works at a workshop near the market. He usually takes a break in the afternoon."
"Perfect. Let's go see him now."
Yuni stood up from the swing. But before they could leave, she stopped.
"But first, there's one place we need to visit."
Several hours later, they stood in front of a plot of land surrounded by tall corrugated metal fencing. Behind it, heavy machinery lay still like sleeping giants, and in the distance, piles of felled durian trees lay lifeless.
"This was… Mr. Wiryo's orchard, right?" Boni asked quietly.
Yuni nodded slowly, her face solemn. "It used to be the most fertile orchard in the village. But after Mr. Wiryo fell ill, his son sold it to the palm oil company."
"And now, it's like this…"
They stood in silence, staring at what remained of an orchard once full of life. A gentle breeze blew, carrying the bitter scent of torn earth and dying trees.
"Yun!" Boni said, his eyes fixed on the towering fence. "We have to move faster than we planned."
That afternoon, they arrived at Rio's workshop. The clanging of metal, engine noises, and dangdut music from an old radio filled the air. Rio was under an old car, busy with a wrench in hand. His clothes were stained with oil.
"Yo, Rio!" Boni called, knocking on the car hood.
There was the sound of a tool dropping, then Rio's head popped out from under the car. His eyes widened in surprise. "Eh?! Boni?! Seriously, you're back?!"
"Yep. Still breathing, luckily."
Rio laughed heartily and stood up, wiping his hands with a greasy rag. "Man, it's been ages. How's life in the city?"
"Long story. But now I'm back… and I need your help."
Rio raised an eyebrow. "Help? You owe someone money?"
Boni chuckled. "No, not that. This is about the village. You've heard about the palm oil project, right?"
Rio's expression turned serious. "Of course. Who hasn't? They even tried to buy my father's orchard. But I refused immediately. That orchard is a family legacy."
"We're putting together a team to fight back against the greedy village chief. We want to protect the remaining durian orchards. Will you join us?"
Rio paused for a moment. Then a wide smile spread across his face.
"If it's about protecting durians, count me in. Kids these days don't even know what real durians from this village taste like."
Yuni nodded. "Welcome, Rio. You're the first official member of the Durian Guardians."
That night, under a sky full of stars, Boni sat in front of his house, scribbling in his notebook.
> Today, we recruited our first member: Rio.
The road ahead is long. But at least, we're not alone anymore.
I don't know how all this will end,
But one thing's certain: I won't let this village be destroyed for money.
The wooden door behind him creaked open. Raka appeared, eyes half-closed.
"Big bro… there's a greased pole climbing contest tomorrow at the field. Are you joining?"
Boni smiled and patted his little brother's head. "Wait and see tomorrow morning. Now go back to sleep."
Raka nodded sleepily and returned inside.
Boni looked up at the starry sky.
"Duren Village… I'm home. And I'm not leaving again."
A few days later, Boni and Yuni moved quickly, reaching out to their old friends one by one. They met Tigor, now a carpenter. His body had grown even bigger, but his spirit remained the same.
"I've been waiting for something like this." Tigor said, clenching his massive fist. "People think we can't do anything. But really, we were just waiting for the right time."
Then they visited Lilis, now a teacher at the local elementary school. She was still cautious as ever.
"This kind of thing can get complicated," she said. "But if it's to save the village, I'll help however I can. The kids at school deserve a better future too."
Within a week, five of their friends had joined. They all gathered once more beneath the old durian tree. The atmosphere was filled with spirit, despite the doubts and fears.
"We're not a militia." Yuni stated clearly. "We're just villagers who care about our home and its future."
"But if we need to, we'll act like one." Rio added, sparking laughter that lightened the tense mood.
They began to lay out their plans: making a short film, raising awareness through social media, and organizing a local durian festival. All with one goal to make people realize that this village is not for sale.
That night, once again, Boni sat with his notebook. The night wind gently blew, carrying the sweet scent of blooming durian flowers.
> Today, more friends joined us.
Some were afraid, some were angry. But in the end, they agreed.
This might be the beginning of something real.
And I… I won't stop until the end.