Thick clouds hung low in the afternoon sky, as if welcoming Boni's slow footsteps on the green hills. He had just stepped off an old, creaky bus that groaned loudly as it came to a stop at the end of a dusty road. The sharp sound of the bus door closing echoed behind him, leaving Boni alone beneath a weathered wooden sign that read:
"Welcome to Duren Village."
It had been five long years since he last came home. Five years since he left the village to chase his dreams in the big city. But those dreams hadn't turned out the way he hoped. Now he was back not as a successful man, but as a young man with a small suitcase and a worn backpack slung over his shoulder. His dreams still lingered, but his steps were now filled more with scars and life lessons than ambition.
Boni took a deep breath. The village air was still the same fresh, thick with the scent of damp earth, leaves, and the faint fragrance of durian carried by the evening breeze. The smell he had always missed now flowed freely into his nose, stirring a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.
Small footsteps echoed from the sloping path. Boni turned and saw a little boy running toward him, shouting at the top of his lungs:
"Big Bro Boni!! Big Bro Boni's home!!"
"Hey! Raka?" Boni laughed and bent down, catching a warm hug from his cousin, who had been just a baby when he left.
"Dad said you were coming home today! Did you bring me a present?"
Boni scratched his head with a smile.
"Hmm… a present, huh… I brought a long story from the city. Can that be your present?"
"Meh…" Raka pouted. "I wanted a robot toy…"
Boni chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair.
"Maybe next time. For now, how about you walk me home?"
The wooden house where he grew up still stood strong, surrounded by large durian trees that seemed older but still mighty. On the front porch, his mother, Bu Rini, stood with tears welling in her eyes.
"My son… You really came back…"
"Mom…" Boni rushed into her arms, holding tightly to the aging figure. Warm. Soft. The scent of his mother hadn't changed, and it brought a lump to his throat.
"Come in, dinner's ready. Your father's washing the motorcycle in the back." she said with a smile.
That night, they ate together. Grilled fish, vegetable stew, and Boni's favorite chili paste filled the simple table. Laughter and stories flowed across the room. Raka kept asking about the city and the tall people who lived in glass buildings. Boni answered with funny tales, making the boy giggle uncontrollably.
The next morning, Boni walked down the village paths. The houses looked neater, some even freshly painted. But something felt off. Some durian orchards that were once full of trees were now barren, the land covered in stones and wild shrubs. Several plots even had huge banners that read:
"Palm Oil Plantation Project: For the Village's Future."
Boni stopped. His brow furrowed.
"Palm oil…?" he muttered.
A loud voice broke his thoughts.
"Spacing out this early in the morning? You're getting old, huh!"
Boni turned and widened his eyes. A girl stood there, her black hair tied in a ponytail, arms crossed, and a wide smile showing the dimples he used to know so well.
"Yuni…?"
"Took you long enough! You're like the lead actor in a soap opera. Everyone's been waiting for your return!"
Boni chuckled awkwardly.
"Sorry… I didn't expect you to turn out… this beautiful."
Yuni raised an eyebrow and laughed.
"Wow, you're smooth now, huh?"
"No, I mean it."
They began walking along the narrow path toward Yuni's family's old orchard. Along the way, they exchanged stories. But Yuni's tone suddenly shifted to something more serious.
"You saw the empty orchards, right?"
"Yeah… They used to be filled with durian trees. What happened?"
"All because of Mr. Rasyid, the new village chief. He partnered with a big company to turn the orchards into palm oil plantations. Said it was for progress. But in truth, many villagers were pressured into selling their land."
Boni clenched his fists.
"Durian isn't just a fruit, Yuni. It's our identity. A legacy from our grandparents."
Yuni looked at him deeply.
"You haven't changed."
"I can't just sit by and watch this happen."
Yuni gave a small smile.
"Then we'll need a team. Just the two of us won't be enough."
That day marked the beginning of something bigger. Boni and Yuni began listing old friends who might still live in the village. They jotted names, discussed strategies, and gathered information. They knew this wasn't just about fighting a project. It was about preserving their homeland.
Rumors about Mr. Rasyid grew clearer. Stories of vote buying during the village election. Contracts signed by villagers who didn't fully understand them. And the most suspicious vocal citizens who had either vanished or suddenly gone silent.
That night, they sat in a wooden shack in the middle of a nearly dead durian grove. The wind carried the scent of earth, and a thin mist veiled the treetops.
"So…" Yuni said while blowing a bubble with her gum. "What should we call our team?"
"Huh?"
"Something cool. We need a name."
Boni thought for a moment. A smile formed on his face.
"The Durian Guardians."
Yuni went quiet. Then burst out laughing.
"That's so silly… But I like it."
"The sillier it is, the easier it is to remember."
From that night, they started moving. Seno, the fastest runner in school and now a courier, joined them. Mila, who had once studied law, helped gather evidence and understand the legal contracts. Jaka, the local mechanic, modified drones to scout project sites without getting caught.
They held secret meetings. They recorded videos, gathered testimonies from brave villagers, drew maps and documented environmental changes caused by the palm oil clearing. They didn't just want to resist, they wanted to prove the truth.
One starry night, Yuni asked,
"Are you ready for this? If we speak out, there's no turning back."
Boni looked up at the village sky. The same stars as before. But this time, he saw them through the lens of a newfound responsibility.
"I didn't come home just to rest. I came to make sure this place stays alive."
Yuni smiled at him.
"Then let's protect this home. Together… as the Durian Guardians."