Friendly, But Closed

The following days in Salatiga went by slowly, as usual. But for Arum, there was one little thing that started to bother her mind: a simple mechanic named Mas Dion.

Her old car — the dark red one — had problems again. This time it wasn't a breakdown, but a strange vibrating sound from the engine as it climbed towards the school where Arum taught. After thinking about it, Arum finally turned the wheel to a place that was now starting to feel familiar: the small repair shop on the side of the road.

When he arrived, Dion was dismantling an old motorbike engine, with his work clothes covered in oil stains. As soon as he saw Arum get out of the car, a faint smile appeared on his face.

"Is the car being naughty again, Miss?" Dion said casually.

Arum chuckled. "Yes, bro. It seems like this red one needs a lot of attention."

Without saying much, Dion immediately took his tools. He told Arum to sit on a plastic chair under a tree, while he fixed the bottom of the hood.

A light rain was still falling from last night, wetting the leaves and making the air feel fresher. Arum watched Dion's movements silently. Dion's hands worked calmly, quickly, and with calculation. Not the usual careless movements of a mechanic.

In less than twenty minutes, Dion was done. He tapped the hood twice with the back of his hand.

"Try turning it on, Miss."

Arum obeyed. The engine sound was now more stable, no longer vibrating strangely. She jumped a little for joy.

"Wow, Mas! That's amazing!"

Dion just smiled, wiping his hands with a shabby cloth.

"How much, sir?" Arum asked while taking out his wallet.

As before, Dion just shook his head slowly.

"No need, Sis. It's true. It's just that small, it's not worth paying."

Arum frowned. "But... Mas Dion works. Why don't you want to get paid?"

Dion leaned his body against the wooden pole of the workshop, staring at the empty street in front of him.

"For me, helping people is... not about money, Miss.

Besides, Miss Arum's car is like an old friend now," he said with a small chuckle.

Arum laughed softly, but behind her laughter was a growing curiosity.

This man... was different.

Not only was he friendly, but there was an invisible wall around him. As if he was keeping his distance — not out of arrogance, but because... he was protecting something.

"Is Mas Dion originally from here?" asked Arum, trying to make small talk.

Dion just shrugged casually. "You could say that, you could say it's not. I'm just living here, Miss."

A hanging answer. Doesn't reveal anything, but doesn't reject the conversation either.

Arum wanted to ask further — about where he learned to fix cars with such finesse, about why he seemed to avoid all talk about himself — but Dion had already quickly changed the subject.

"If this car is acting up again, just come over. Free consultation, pay when you're bored," he said with a joking smile.

Arum could only reply with a small laugh, keeping all those questions in her heart.

Several days passed.

At school, Arum had begun to get used to the new atmosphere and her students. But one thing still bothered her: her old car was getting more and more cranky.

That morning, when he was about to leave for teaching, the dark red suddenly died completely. No sound, no vibration. Silence.

Arum looked at the steering wheel in resignation.

"Gosh, what's wrong with you, kid..."

The only place Arum could think of was the small repair shop. Without thinking much, she pushed her car slowly there — luckily it wasn't too far away.

Dion, who was sweeping the workshop yard, immediately approached when he saw Arum was struggling.

"The machine has completely broken down, bro..." said Arum, half complaining.

Dion smiled slightly, then signaled Arum to relax.

"Leave it to me, Miss. Don't panic."

With a light movement, Dion opened the hood. Arum stood beside him, watching silently.

This time, Dion did not just do a regular check. His hands moved quickly, his eyes focused with full concentration, as if the old machine was talking directly to him. In an instant, he removed several cables, opened several small bolts, then fiddled with the carburetor parts that were almost worn out.

All done without the help of heavy equipment. Just a wrench, a screwdriver, and a pair of nimble hands.

Less than ten minutes later, Dion closed the hood with a click.

"Try starting it, Miss."

Arum, half-doubting, got into the car and turned the ignition key.

The engine immediately started. Not only did it start — the sound was much smoother than before. It was as if the old car had become decades younger again!

Arum stared. "Oh my God... Mas Dion! How can you be so fast?"

Dion just nodded casually, as if what he had just done was nothing extraordinary.

"Old machines are like old people, Miss," he said lightly. "You can't just push them. They have to be stroked, understood one by one. Only then will they start again."

Arum laughed, half amazed, half confused.

How could a mechanic this small be able to handle the damage so quickly, without expensive tools, without fuss?

Curious, Arum dared to ask.

"Mas Dion... Where did you go to school?"

Dion smiled faintly. A strange shadow crossed his eyes — something like a memory he didn't want to touch.

"Ah, a regular school, Miss. It's not important," he answered as he took a rag and cleaned his hands.

Another hanging answer. Holding back a story that was clearly bigger than just "a regular school."

The afternoon sun shines on Salatiga with a soft golden light. In Bu Sri's small shop, the atmosphere is as usual — the hustle and bustle of residents chatting while sipping coffee and enjoying fried bananas.

But that day, the topic of conversation was a little different.

"Eh, Mr Karto," whispered Mbak Yuni as she leaned towards the motorbike taxi driver, "did you know that Mas Dion was once a big man?"

Mr. Karto, who was stirring his coffee, raised an eyebrow. "Big man? What do you mean?"

Ms. Yuni lowered her voice, almost whispering. "I heard from Mas Udin who works at the car dealership... he said Mas Dion used to study at a famous engineering university outside the city. Not just ordinary engineering... elite engineering!"

Mrs. Sri, who had been pretending to be busy arranging the fried food, quietly listened with alert ears.

"Ah, really?" Mr. Karto sounded doubtful. "If that's true, why do you live here, in a small workshop like this?"

Ms. Yuni shrugged. "I don't know either. They said again, there was... something. A big problem. But no one wanted to tell me the details."

Pak Karto nodded slowly. "Yes... sometimes I see Mas Dion, his style... different. A simple person, but the way he works, the way he talks... like someone who is used to handling big things."

Mrs. Sri finally spoke up, her voice heavy but full of understanding.

"Whatever his past, what's important now is that Mas Dion is good to us. He never looks for trouble. In fact, he often helps people in need without expecting anything in return."

They all nodded slowly.

Yes, maybe it's better that way. There's no need to bring up people's past.

Night slowly descended, covering the city of Salatiga with a thin fog and a bone-chilling cold wind. Dion's workshop was closed, but the dim lights were still on from the small room behind — where Dion usually sat alone, accompanied by black coffee and the sound of crickets.

On the old wooden table, there was a worn notebook. Dion opened it slowly. Between the pages, there was a worn photo...

A young man in a college uniform, smiling broadly while holding an engineering trophy.

His eyes stared at the photo silently.

For a long time.

And for the first time in a long time...

the memories came flooding back.

Bandung, five years ago.

A prestigious engineering campus — where future engineers, machinists, and tech geniuses gathered.

Young Dion stood in the middle of a large hall, surrounded by a crowd of students. Full of confidence, he explained the prototype of an energy-saving machine that he designed himself. The lecturers applauded, investors began to look. Everyone was sure: Dion Arkanata would be a big star.

He's not just smart — he's brilliant. The campus golden boy.

And more than that, he's... the heir to the Arkanata family , one of the biggest names in the national automotive industry.

His life should have been secure.

His path had been prepared.

All he had to do was walk straight...

But that was where everything began to crack.

One mistake.

One decision too quickly. One betrayal from someone he trusted.

And the world that had been built for years...

collapsed overnight.

Back to the night in the workshop, Dion took a deep breath. He closed the book slowly, put it back under the drawer, then turned off the light.

Outside, a light rain began to fall.