With the school day finally behind him, Havi found himself gripped by an overwhelming eagerness to return home.
It was as if every second spent lingering within the school's walls had been a second wasted.
His thoughts were consumed by a singular desire to seek out Grandfather Har and take him to Wira Waterfall, a place they had so often spoken of, yet never quite managed to visit together.
The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the village as Havi approached its gate, his steps brisk, his heart pounding, not from exhaustion, but from an energy that refused to wane.
And there, just as he had hoped, sat Grandfather Har, reclining in his usual spot outside his modest home, an expression of serene contentment gracing his weathered features.
"Grandfather Har!" Havi called out, his voice filled with the unguarded enthusiasm of youth. "I'll be at your house in a little while right after I've had my lunch! Don't go anywhere, alright?"
Before the old man could so much as part his lips to respond, Havi had already turned on his heels and darted away, his hurried footsteps kicking up small clouds of dust along the narrow path.
"Oi, lad! Hold on a moment...!" Grandfather Har's voice rang out, edged with amusement rather than frustration.
But his words fell upon deaf ears, for Havi was already nothing more than a fleeting shadow in the distance.
The elderly man shook his head, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Ah, youth," he muttered to himself, his eyes twinkling with quiet fondness. "All fire and no patience."
Havi pressed on, weaving through the village paths with a speed that should have left his lungs burning, his limbs aching but strangely, they did not.
His strength seemed limitless, his energy unquenchable.
It was an odd sensation, as though his body had been liberated from the usual constraints of fatigue.
But there was no time to dwell on such thoughts.
His mind was set on a singular goal, reach home, eat quickly, and return to Grandfather Har without delay.
Within mere minutes, he arrived at his house, a dwelling he had always regarded as grand, though he suspected others would deem it modest.
Without pausing, he shed his school uniform and slipped into more comfortable attire.
A quick splash of water over his face, a cursory rinse of his hands and feet, and he was at the dining table, ready to eat.
Rice, fresh vegetables, and dried salted fish are his favourite meal.
With a hunger that felt almost unnatural, he devoured the food set before him, hardly pausing to draw breath.
His parents were not home yet. He had long since grown accustomed to their absence at these hours, knowing they were out, toiling under the weight of responsibility, striving to keep their modest household afloat.
And now, Havi too had duties of his own, tasks that, though different in nature, felt just as crucial.
The first, to harvest gutta-percha, all the while awaiting word from Diana.
The second, to assist Grandfather Har in the construction of a watermill, a project that, though ambitious, filled him with a strange sense of purpose.
"I must see both through," he murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.
"So far, I've tackled them alone… but soon, I'll need to determine the best locations for storing the resin I collect. I can't afford to be careless."
His meal was finished in record time so quickly.
In fact, that had his parents witnessed it, they might have suspected he had been starved for days.
He rose, rinsed his dishes, and without a moment's hesitation, sprinted from the house once more, his legs carrying him towards Grandfather Har's home with unwavering resolve.
Along the way, he could feel the weight of curious gazes upon him.
Neighbours, engaged in their daily routines, paused momentarily to observe the boy's unrelenting urgency.
"What's gotten into him?" one villager muttered, watching as Havi dashed past, his focus unwavering.
"Strange, isn't it? He's been acting like this for days now…" another remarked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps this is just how the clever ones behave."
"Bah, enough idle talk!" a third neighbour interjected with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Get back to work!"
Havi, of course, was well aware of their prying eyes and hushed whispers.
He could sense their curiosity, their bemusement.
But he did not care. Not today.
For today, there was but one destination that mattered, Grandfather Har's house.
And nothing, not even the weight of the villagers' intrigue, could slow his relentless pace.
The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays casting long shadows over the village paths as Havi sprinted towards Grandfather Har's modest home.
The boy's breath came in short, sharp gasps, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession, but he pressed on without pause.
His heart pounded in his chest, not merely from exertion, but from the sheer urgency that propelled him forward.
At last, after nearly ten minutes of ceaseless running, he arrived at his destination.
His feet skidded slightly against the compacted earth as he came to an abrupt halt before the elderly man, who sat comfortably on his wooden bench, gazing at the world with the quiet patience of those who had seen much of life.
Grandfather Har, his deeply lined face betraying neither surprise nor amusement, simply shook his head.
Though he had known the boy for only a short time, he had swiftly come to understand the boundless energy and impetuous nature that seemed to define him.
"Oh?" the old man murmured, lifting an eyebrow as he surveyed Havi's dishevelled state. "You have returned rather swiftly. Tell me, lad, are you certain you took the time to eat your lunch properly?"
Still breathless, Havi nodded, wiping a stray bead of sweat from his brow, "I did, Grandfather. I ate just before coming here."
The old man sighed, shaking his head once more, "You reckless child! You have barely finished your meal, yet you chose to sprint all the way here as though the world depended on it."
"Do you not consider that such foolishness might leave you with a terrible stomach ache?"
Havi, still catching his breath, straightened his posture and met the old man's gaze with unwavering conviction.
"The progress of Loban village is far more important than a stomach ache, Grandfather."
For a moment, Grandfather Har said nothing.
His weathered hands rested on his knees, his gaze searching the boy's face, perhaps looking for something, perhaps recognising something.
Then, with the slow certainty of a man who had long learned when to argue and when to remain silent, he simply nodded.
A brief silence stretched between them, before Havi, his mind still brimming with thoughts, spoke again.
"Grandfather, may I ask you something?"
The old man exhaled softly, leaning back against the wooden frame of his seat, "You may, child."
"Do you… do you know someone by the name of Sudirjo?"
The question was simple, yet its impact was profound.
Grandfather Har's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
His brow furrowed ever so slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.
It was a name that stirred something deep within him, something distant yet never truly forgotten.
Sudirjo. It was a name that had once been spoken with warmth and familiarity, though the years had since buried it beneath the weight of time.
His mind sifted through old memories, but uncertainty lingered.
There were many who bore that name in the neighbouring villages.
And yet, if Havi was referring to his Sudirjo (the Sudirjo who had been more than just a friend, the Sudirjo who had been as close as a brother), then there was no question of recognition.
But he remained cautious, "Sudirjo?" he repeated, his voice measured.
"Which Sudirjo do you mean, lad? It is not an uncommon name." He paused for a moment before adding, almost wistfully, "Even my best friend, my truest companion, was called Sudirjo."
Havi's eyes brightened with certainty, "That's the one I mean... Your best friend."
Grandfather Har's intrigue deepened. He regarded the boy with quiet curiosity, his aged hands tightening slightly upon his knees.
"And why, pray tell, are you asking about him?" His voice, though steady, carried an unmistakable note of sorrow. "He passed away many years ago."
Havi drew in a breath, standing firm as he prepared to say the words that had long been waiting to leave his lips.
"Because," he said with quiet determination, "I wish to take Sudirjo's place as your friend."
He hesitated only for a fraction of a second before delivering the final revelation.
"Because Sudirjo… was my grandfather."
For a moment, all was still. Then, Grandfather Har's breath caught, his body stiffening as his eyes widened in disbelief.
A wave of emotion crashed over him. Shock, recognition, perhaps even something dangerously close to hope.
"What…?" His voice was scarcely more than a whisper.
Then, louder, with the weight of a past he had long since locked away...
"What did you just say?!"