[Jow Ylliard Hayle]
One semester survived.
Second quarter exams were finally over. I passed all my tests in every subject, and we successfully defended our practical research too.
After a hellish week of exams, it was finally time to relax—it’s the semestral break.
A sharp stream of sunlight pierced through the room, gently landing on my face. I squinted, momentarily stunned by the brightness slipping in through the window I forgot to close last night.
I turned my head toward the digital clock on my study table. 7:45 A.M.
I woke up earlier than usual.
I let out a yawn and stretched my arms, slowly swinging my legs off the side of the bed. I propped myself up with my elbows, sitting up lazily. My hands felt itchy, so I scratched them absentmindedly.
“Good morning to my world,” I muttered under my breath.
I stretched again with another yawn, then stood up and walked toward my drawer. I opened the top layer and grabbed a face towel, draping it over my shoulder.
I headed straight to the bathroom connected to my room. Inside, I turned on the faucet and flinched as cold water trickled out, chilling my skin as I placed my hands underneath.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth.
After rinsing, I wiped my face with the towel on my shoulder, though I managed to get my shirt wet in the process. With a sigh, I headed back to the drawer, pulling out a clean shirt as I walked. I peeled off the damp one and tossed it into my laundry basket.
I changed into a black t-shirt with elbow-length sleeves. On the front was a design of my favorite anime character—Meliodas from *The Seven Deadly Sins*. His name was printed boldly on the back.
As I descended to the living room, the house was quiet, the silence amplifying each sound my feet made against the wooden stairs.
I made a beeline for the TV, grabbed the remote resting on top, and hit the power button, aiming it toward the screen.
It flickered to life. I opened the YouTube app and played a strategy video for attacking Town Hall 17 in Clash of Clans.
Placing the remote on the table, I walked toward the kitchen to boil some water and prepare coffee.
> First day of semestral break is awesome.<
I was at the kitchen doorway when I suddenly remembered—I forgot my phone on the bed.
> How am I supposed to practice attacking Town Hall 17 if I don’t have my phone and can’t even play Clash of Clans? Idiot, Hayle.<
I dashed back upstairs and grabbed my phone from the bed.
I pressed the power button. 56% battery. A Facebook notification glared on the screen—messages from Clay—covering the beautiful lock screen wallpaper I had: the face of Chinatsu Kano Senpai, my favorite anime girl from Blue Box.
I unlocked my phone and opened Facebook Messenger to check her messages.
Clayrin Aisfine Ezz: 
Clayrin Aisfine Ezz changed her nickname to "Terror of Happiness 💪😂🤣"
Terror of Happiness changed your nickname to "Alien Boy 🙂‍↕️👽👾"
Both showed the timestamp: 7:49 A.M.
> Does this girl have nothing better to do?<
I narrowed my eyes and scrolled through our conversation.
> “Two weirdos just came back to our neighborhood… one of them wants to join our Club 😐😐😐 I don’t want anyone else messing with you. I should be the only weirdo, right? 😡🤬 I won’t let them join. And the other one…”<
> “Do you know Ruffa?”<
> “She said she has a crush on you, ayiee! Ugh our little alien is out here abducting people. Ruffa is so pretty 👽 You’re dead when your wife Jovenyl finds out 🫢🤫”<
> Who the hell is Ruffa? And I don’t care about Jovenyl… wait, what did I just say?<
I slapped my forehead.
What the heck is going on in that girl’s head?
I tossed my phone back onto the bed. The urge to play Clash of Clans was gone. Instead, I went back downstairs, turned off the TV, made my coffee, and drank it quietly in the kitchen.
---
[Clayrin Aisfine Ezz]
“What was that? What’s his deal…?” I muttered as I lay sprawled across our terrace rooftop, basking in the soft morning sun. The warmth against my skin felt comforting, not too harsh yet—still early.
I held my phone above me, staring at the screen.
> No reply.<
A sigh escaped my lips.
Jow had seen my message and didn’t even bother replying. I wanted to tease him more, especially after what Ruffa told me yesterday when she returned to our neighborhood after dropping out of Stanford.
I don’t even know how she met Jow, but she was absolutely glowing as she talked about him.
She said she only saw him once in person, and that single moment was all it took for her to fall for him.
If Ruffa ended up as Jow’s girlfriend, that would be something. Her skin is porcelain white, her features smooth, and her nose… annoyingly perfect.
“Clayrin! You’re sunbathing again? Get down from there!” Mom’s voice pierced through the calm.
I clicked my tongue.
“It’s not even eight yet, Mom. I just want a little vitamin D,” I argued.
“Vitamin D, my foot. Go do your laundry—I saw your basket yesterday. It looks like a mountain. How many times do I have to tell you to wash your clothes right away? You're not a child anymore. You're a young lady—what if you get a boyfriend tomorrow?”
And there it was. Mom’s morning rap session.
“Ugh, fine. I’m going.” I climbed down through my bedroom window.
I made my way to the back of our house where there was a roofed area without walls—our washing machine was there, along with the water pump and some unused motorcycles.
Dad was at work. My older brother… was gone.
Mom sat on a small stool, scrubbing blankets and rags in two large basins.
“Ma, why don’t you just use the washing machine?” I asked.
“I like brushing them by hand. Makes me feel sure they’re clean,” she said.
“I’ll use the washing machine for mine then. I’ll just go get my laundry from my room.”
“You already went there and didn’t bring it down? Seriously, Clayrin!” she scolded.
“Sorry, it’s the first day of break and I’m already doing chores,” I mumbled.
I pumped the water pump and filled a bucket. Once full, I carefully lifted it and poured the water into the machine.
“Do I need to fill this all the way?” I asked.
Mom nodded. “You haven’t forgotten, right?” she asked suddenly.
“Forgotten what, Ma?” I paused, puzzled.
She didn’t answer. Just kept brushing.
I ended up filling the machine with water five times, added detergent, and left it to soak while I went to get my laundry basket.
> Well, so much for my anime marathon plans.<
As I climbed the stairs, Lumiel’s words echoed in my mind.
> “Now that you're 18, I can finally court you, right?”<
So full of himself.
I never promised him anything. I never asked anyone to wait for me to turn eighteen. I never intended to fall for anyone.
That was my promise to Kuya—I wouldn’t let myself fall in love. I had to keep that promise.
I reached my room and picked up my laundry basket.
As I descended the stairs again, another memory hit me like a wave—Kuya’s voice.
---
*Flashback*
He was sitting on the terrace roof, tying a green cloth around the scrapes on his hands. The wind was cold, biting against the skin.
I was inside my room, fiddling with the Rubik’s cube I borrowed from him, seated at my study desk. I was nearly done—just one layer left.
“Got a boyfriend yet?” he suddenly asked.
I dropped the cube, and it rolled off the table, falling to the floor and scattering into pieces.
“Kuya! What kind of question is that?” I whined. “Is that a requirement for high school now?”
I picked up the pieces one by one.
He laughed—long, loud, carefree laughter.
“Is there some comedy show in the sky you’re watching? Wait, never mind—Mama! Kuya’s talking to the spirits again!” I called.
“Hey! You little brat,” he said, trying to stop laughing.
“Punch him. It’s a full moon!” I heard Mom yell back from the kitchen.
“She said to punch you,” I told Kuya.
“Crazy girl. What’s with you I just asked you about having a boyfriend? Even that handsome guy Lumiel—you’ve never even thought about holding his hand, right? He's really into you!”
“He’s good-looking! He has eyes, a nose, and lips—what more do you want?”
“You’re hopeless.” I simply told him.
I reassembled the cube and returned it to the desk.
“I’ll never fall in love, Kuya. Ever.” I declared.
“You think you’re aromantic?” he asked.
“I guess. Nothing romantic makes my heart race. I don’t get nervous or giddy like others do. I just… don’t feel it.”
He fell silent for a while, then smiled.
“But you care about people, right? You feel sad when they cry?”
“Sometimes.”
His smile widened, hidden beneath his hair.
“Clay, you’re aromantic… until the right one shows up. If someone teaches you how to love, I won’t stop you. He’ll take care of you… And also… tell Nyl-nyl I’m sorry.”
I didn’t understand what he meant. I stayed quiet.
“You won’t know when it happens… not until it hurts and you realize how that person made you feel something warm before everything changed.”
“Can you stop with the English? I’m just in Grade 8!” I complained.
He laughed again, then stood on the roof’s edge and jumped down.
The metal rattled from his landing. Mama shouted from inside.
“Mama! Kuya’s sneaking out again!” I called, but by the time she ran outside, he was already speeding away on his motorbike.
“That gangster! Off to break skulls again!” she yelled, locking the gate with chains and a padlock.
---
The memory faded.
I lost grip of the laundry basket. It tumbled down the stairs, spilling clothes across every step.
I fell to my knees, a sharp pain piercing my chest.
I forgot.
In just two days… it’ll be Kuya Crin’s death anniversary.
I had been so happy lately—laughing, living—that I forgot I was still carrying a grief that returns every year.
I miss that delinquent brother of mine.
I miss his laughter. His random questions.
I miss seeing him ride his motorbike like it was a stallion.
I miss how he did my laundry. How he cleaned my room.
How he prepped my reviewers.
How he hugged me when I felt like a failure.
I miss his cooking.
His scolding when I took too long in the bath.
His voice…
I miss my brother so much.
---
To be continued.