Morning arrived with sunlight, dew, and the distant crowing of roosters.
Mist still hung low above the fields when the sound of wooden wheels creaked softly from afar.Dew clung to the tips of cassava leaves, glimmering faintly as sunlight began to slip through gaps in the clouds.The air was cool, drifting gently, carrying the cold and the faint fog of breath from everyone standing there.
In the yard, a wooden cart had come to a stop.The horses stood calmly, stamping their hooves now and then, as if reminding them that this morning was not an ordinary departure.
Anindya stood at the edge of the field, staring at the rows of crops she had tended for the past month.Land that once looked dry and unstructured now lay in neat order.Water flowed quietly through bamboo channels, dripping onto the soil in turns, still doing its quiet work of keeping things alive.
She crouched down and touched the damp earth.
It's strange, she thought.Only a month… but it feels like leaving a home I've lived in for years.
Her hands watered one last patch of plants, even though she knew Arga had already done it earlier that morning.It wasn't about whether it was necessary.It was about delaying the farewell… even if only for a moment.
Behind her, Arga leaned against a bamboo post, looking at the same field from a different angle.The field would remain.The water would continue to run through the irrigation channels they had built together.The plants would grow until harvest season arrived.
What was leaving was not the land or its memories.What was leaving… was them.
"Anin…" Arga called softly.
She stood, wiping her wet hands on her trousers.She picked up a small basket beside her, filled with cassava, vegetables, and garden produce, and adjusted its bindings again and again, even though they were already tight.
"Arga…"Her voice caught in her throat.
"Don't work too hard, okay," she finally said."If the water gets stuck, rest first. Don't force it."
Arga nodded."Yeah."
"If it rains hard, check the bamboo channels. Sometimes mud clogs the holes. Don't wait until the plants start wilting."
"Yup."
"Eat properly. Don't live on boiled cassava alone. If you don't have time to cook, buy side dishes from Uncle's stall."
Arga smiled faintly, but his eyes had begun to glisten."Yeah, Anindya."
She drew a short breath, trying to hold back the thing that had been pressing against her chest all morning.But when she looked at Arga's face, the same face she saw every day and was about to leave behind, all her restraint collapsed.
"If you're tired, rest," her voice trembled."If you're sick, don't keep it to yourself. You'll be alone here now, Arga. No me nagging. No one reminding you every little thing."
Tears fell. One drop, then another, sliding down her cheeks.She wiped them away quickly, but the more she tried to stop, the harder she cried.
Arga stayed silent.He didn't interrupt.He knew she needed to finish this… for herself.
"I know I have to go," Anin continued between sobs."But… I'm scared. Scared something will happen to you while I'm gone. Scared I'll regret leaving all of this."
She let out a bitter laugh through her tears."It's only been a month. We're just heading to the capital. So why does it feel this heavy?"
Arga lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked up again.
"Well… if I went with you guys," he said quietly, "this field would die. There'd be no one to take care of it."
He looked back at the land."But I promise I'll keep everything alive. As long as the bamboo still carries water, as long as these plants keep growing… a part of all of you will stay here."
He met Anindya's eyes."In every plant here, there's a piece of you too."
She sniffed, then let out a small laugh as she wiped her face."You're awful… You're just making me cry more."
Arga finally stepped forward and hugged her, gently, carefully.As if afraid the memory itself might shatter if he held her too tightly.
"I won't forget anything you taught me," he said softly.
A few steps away, Jaka, Danu, Bandung, and Dara stood in silence.No one spoke.They let the moment belong to Arga and Anindya alone.
Even Danu, who usually raised his camera without thinking, let it hang around his neck.
Some moments, he knew, were meant only for memory.
Anin finally took a deep breath, steadying herself."Okay," she said, wiping the last of her tears."I'll stop nagging now. Promise."
She looked at Arga with a smile that was forced… but sincere."Everything I said earlier wasn't scolding, okay. It's just… I see you as family too. You get that, right?"
Arga nodded and laughed softly at her awkwardness."Yeah, yeah. I know. And I'm grateful too… for being family."
After Anin finished her goodbye, Jaka stepped forward next.
He gripped Arga's shoulder tightly."Hey… thank you. Seriously. If it weren't for you, we might've starved… or gotten lost somewhere we couldn't come back from."His voice lowered."You made this place feel like home."
"Take care of yourself, Jaka," Arga replied with a small smile, though his eyes were already red."And you… don't spend all your days sleeping. I won't be here to do the work properly for you."
Jaka snorted, pretending to be annoyed, though he couldn't hide his grin."Look at you. Only a month and you're already nagging like Anin. Must've caught it from her."
Danu shook Arga's hand formally, then pulled him into a sudden hug."I recorded everything, Arga. Every part of this journey. When we make it back… you won't miss a single story."
"I'll be waiting," Arga answered, his voice rough now."I'll wait for you to come back."
Bandung was the last to step forward.
He stood tall in front of his younger brother.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"yo, brother," Arga finally said."Become a strong soldier. Become the Patih you've always wanted to be."His voice trembled, but he kept going."Not just for yourself… but for this village. For the kingdom. I believe in you. I'll be here. Father and Mother… wherever they are… they'll be watching you too."
Bandung nodded without hesitation. The promise carved itself deep into his chest."I will. I swear."Then, softer but firmer,"I'll become someone this village… our family… can be proud of."
Dara stepped forward next and bowed her head respectfully to Arga."Thank you, Arga. This land isn't just a field."Her voice was calm and sincere."It's a lesson… for me, and for anyone who ever passes through. Take care of it. The way you've taken care of your life… and your home."
Arga smiled."I will. And… I hope your journey goes smoothly too, Dara."
The wooden cart was ready. The horses snorted softly as the morning light grew brighter.
One by one, they climbed aboard.
Anindya lingered the longest, standing closest to Arga. Her eyes were wet, but she smiled through it.
Bandung raised his arm high."Arga! Take care of yourself!""And don't forget to eat!" Jaka added, waving wildly.
Danu lifted his camera for just a moment."Look here, Ga. Say goodbye properly… so it's recorded."
Arga raised his hand. A simple wave, heavy with meaning."Safe travels, all of you."
The wooden wheels creaked as the cart began to move.Morning mist slowly swallowed the yard, leaving Arga's silhouette smaller… and smaller.
The cart rolled on.
Behind them, Arga stood alone.The field was still alive.The water still flowed.The world did not stop.
But something in his chest felt missing.
He turned back toward the yard and, without realizing it, adjusted a bamboo channel that was already perfectly aligned.His hands moved on their own, as if searching for something to hold onto.
Inside the cart, Anin stared out.Her tears fell again, silently this time.
This is part of moving forward, she told herself.I have to be brave. I have to be strong.
The cart moved farther away, leaving the yard behind, fading into the fog.The sound of wheels against wet earth echoed like time itself, forced to keep moving.
Anindya lowered her gaze, hugging her knees tightly.She didn't look back again.If she did, she knew she might ask the cart to stop.
Her fingers clenched the fabric on her lap.
Why does this feel like leaving my own home?I still need to find a way back… don't I?
She had said her goodbyes.Everything had been spoken.Everyone had been embraced.
And yet her chest felt hollow, as if a part of her had been left behind.Left with the damp soil, the creaking bamboo, and a young man who chose to stay.
Danu sat across from her, the camera hanging untouched around his neck.For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt no urge to record anything.
Some moments, he realized, were better kept only in memory.
Jaka stared ahead, one hand gripping the side of the cart.His face looked calm, but his jaw was tight.The farewell, and everything that had happened so far, made one thing clear to him.
This journey was no longer just about survival.It had become something else.Something that would demand more than logic alone.
Bandung sat upright, his back straight, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.Behind his silence, his resolve hardened.
Arga's field.His labor.All the stories they had witnessed.
They were not just a backdrop to be forgotten.They were one of the reasons he would fight.
Dara sat slightly apart, her cloak wrapped tightly around her.Since the cart began moving, she had remained quiet.Her eyes followed the road, the forest, the hills ahead.
She knew.
She knew this road was dangerous.She knew what lurked along it.And she knew that sooner or later, she would no longer be able to remain simply "Dara the wanderer."
She glanced at Anin, saw the girl's shoulders trembling as she held back sobs.Dara's fingers tightened beneath her cloak.
If only they knew…If only they knew what awaited them…
But she held herself back.Not now. Not yet.
This was not the time.
Far behind them, Arga still stood in the yard.
The cart was gone.The road had been swallowed completely by mist, as if no one had passed through that morning at all.
Only the field remained.And the sound of water dripping through bamboo.
Arga let out a long breath.
Without thinking, he turned his head, almost calling Anin's name, the habit stopping halfway in his throat.
"Let's get back to work… A-Nin."
No answer.
He let out a quiet, bitter laugh and rubbed his face, patting his cheeks.His hands returned to adjusting a bamboo channel that was already perfect.
He knew he wasn't fixing anything.He just needed a reason to keep moving.
"This is my choice," he murmured to himself."And it's my responsibility."
Arga walked back into the field, checking the water flow one channel at a time.He stopped at a patch that Anindya had watered only moments before.
The soil was still damp. Still neat.
He crouched, touched it briefly, then stood again.
"Don't worry," he whispered."I'll take care of everything."
The morning breeze moved gently through the leaves.The field remained alive.The small house still stood.
But the silence left behind felt different now.Heavier. Deeper. Weighted with loss.
Inside the cart, Anindya wiped her eyes and drew in a deep breath.She lifted her head and looked ahead.
The road stretched long and winding.
"I don't regret it," she whispered, convincing herself."I don't regret it… I'm just scared."
Danu answered, even though she wasn't speaking to him."Being scared is normal, Anin.""What's not normal is pretending you're not."
Anin smiled faintly."Yeah… you're right, Danu. you're right."
Dara heard them.
She stared forward, toward the narrowing road.Behind her calm expression, unease and decision slowly took shape.
This journey would not be simple.And not all of them would be able to keep hiding… or running.
The cart continued onward, carrying five people, each with their own reasons.Leaving behind one field that would always remind them that they had touched a life… and now had to let it go.
And without realizing it, this was their first step toward a much larger story.A story they could no longer avoid.