[Jow Ylliard Hayle]
The sun was slipping behind the buildings, casting long shadows across the classroom. I hurried in, clutching my bag, still feeling the residual warmth of lunch on the rooftop. The breeze teased my hair as I slid into my seat, eyes briefly closing—trying to hold onto the last fragments of peace before the day’s chaos resumed.
Rain was already beside her desk, hunched over her worksheet, her brow furrowed in concentration. I eased into my chair quietly, the faint scent of her pencil shavings lingering in the air. Just as I was about to focus, the door swung open with a creak, and Nova appeared, her eyes narrowing the moment she spotted me.
Without warning, she stepped forward and snatched my arm, her grip firm and unrelenting.
“Jow! Are you free later—”
“I’m not,” I cut her off, voice steady but firm. “I have an important clan war. Believe me.” I waved my paper dismissively. “My RRL is done and I already passed it to you.”
Her face flickered with irritation, the smile evaporating like mist. Her fingers tightened around my arm, her eyes flashing with something unreadable.
“Join us in the karate club,” she said coldly. “We’re short on fighters who aren’t afraid of getting hurt. You used to be a punk back in junior high—an infamous delinquent. Remember how you punched your math teacher for giving you a 69?”
Her words cut sharper than a knife, her tone like winter’s chill.
I swallowed hard, feeling the tension tighten in my chest. “Don’t bring up the past so casually,” I said, voice low but steady.
Her grip didn’t loosen. Instead, she leaned in, her eyes blazing like a storm about to break.  
“Do you wanna try me?” she challenged, voice dipped in menace.
Rain, quick to notice the brewing storm, stepped between us—her eyes wide but calm, a quiet anchor amid the rising tension.  
“Are you fighting?” she asked softly, her gaze flicking between us. She looked caring but serious. “I heard what you said. Jow, you can’t break your promise to grandma!”
I exhaled, long and slow, scratching the back of my neck, feeling the weight of everything pressing down. My gaze drifted to Nova, who was glaring at me, lips pressed into a thin line.
“Creepy,” Rain and Nova said together, their voices almost in harmony.
I sighed, forcing calm into my voice. “Fine. I’ll visit the karate club quick, but I won’t do more than spar. I’m with the Supernatural Club, so I can’t join you for real training… wait—”
Nova’s brow furrowed as she caught on. “You’re in the Supernatural Club too? How do you have two active memberships?”
She grinned mischievously, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Because it’s allowed. The Supernatural Club is an academic club, and karate’s a sport. Simple.”
Rain raised an eyebrow. “So, that’s why you don’t go to supernatural stuff often?”
I shrugged, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, sparring’s enough for now. Anyway, I gotta go—”
Before I could finish, Nova stepped back, her expression softening just a little. “Alright. Sorry for bothering you. I just—” She reached out, gently patting Rain’s head, then turned and walked away.
As she leaned in close again, whispering just for me, her voice barely a breath, she murmured, “Thought I’d wake you up again, sleeping monster...” followed by a faint, knowing laugh.
Weird girl.
I sank into my desk, the weight of everything pressing down.
“Rain,” I said softly, glancing at her. “Mind if I look at yours? Just to get an idea.”
She rolled her eyes. “Boy copying again,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. “You’ve got a cellphone—just search.”
“No load. Just connect.”
Her irritation was written all over her face—she looked about ready to roll her eyes to the ceiling.
“Just connect, kuya. You’re talking too much, like mama,” she snapped, pouting.
Her cheeks flush red, and I could see her breathing grow heavier—like she was holding back her frustration.
“Hey, kuya… I’ll connect if you just smile,” she challenged, voice narrowing.
I grinned, flashing her a cheesy smile. “There. Happy?”
She scrunched her nose. “Yuck. Fake.”
>Shut up, you dwarf,< I thought, smirking at her.
---
Later that day, after classes, I hurried towards the karate club. The halls echoed with footsteps, my heartbeat quickening with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Before fully going, I peeked into the Supernatural Club room first—Clay was inside, engrossed in a book, her brow furrowed in concentration.
When she saw me, she closed the book quickly, grinning wide. “Jow! What’s up? Got some news for you, tol,” she said, voice cheerful but teasing. “Jovenyl passed by earlier… oh, and the other day too—she was chatting with me.”
I froze, muscles tense, and rolled my eyes.
“Tsk,” I muttered under my breath.
“Sorry,” Clay said, her grin faltering. “Bad mood?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, turning to leave. “Lost my appetite just now.”
She chuckled, a sound full of amusement. “Nova’s really lying. She said you’re scary when you get mad. But you’re not.”
I shot her a glance. “You two are just messing with me, huh? I’m not visiting the Supernatural Club for now.”
“Why not? I need someone like me here,” she said, pouting again, but I just shook my head.
“Wow, you’re so cute, Clayrin,” I said, deadpan.
“Only I’m weird, huh? I can’t believe you’re a popular student,” I added, smirking.
She puffed out her chest proudly. “Shut it! I’m just adorable!”
“Yeah, yeah… yuck,” I muttered, turning to go.
She wasn’t done though. “Come here, kid.” Her voice was suddenly softer, almost coaxing. “I was about to tell you what Nova said earlier.”
I hesitated, then looked back. “Speak.”
She grinned again, raising her hand dramatically. “Wow—look at you! Already raising your hand. Shoo-shoo!”
“You’re just messing with me,” I said, annoyed.
Clayrin burst into laughter, slamming her book against the wall. “Fine, final warning, hay. Happy pill talaga ang mantrip!”
“You just admitted your stupidity, Clay,” I said, shaking my head.
She grinned sheepishly and leaned against the wall. “She was asking about you. How are you?”
“Liar,” I said, crossing my arms. “She wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, Mr. Broken Heart doesn’t believe me?” she teased, eyes twinkling.
I sighed, finally turning away. “Whatever.”
And I walked out, feeling a jumble of irritation, confusion, sadness, and pain swirling inside me.
My fists clenched as I headed for the karate club. I could hear the pounding inside my head—the thumping of my heartbeat, the ache in my eyes, the salty sting of tears that threatened to spill.
>I won’t cry right now. I won’t.<
When I reached the room, Nova was already waiting, dressed in her gi, her gaze sharp and focused.
She challenged me to spar—her moves quick, her punches sharp. I fought hard, but I lost, her disappointment clear in her eyes.
The club president nodded at me and, noticing Nova’s mood, quickly allowed me to leave, stepping in to spar with her instead.
I wiped my face at the nearby wash area, the cold water refreshing against my skin. My hands trembled as I pressed them to my stomach—an intense, sharp pain that wouldn’t go away.
I tried to hold it, to press through, but it only worsened.
Kneeling, writhing in pain, I didn’t realize I was crying—tears streaming uncontrollably, trembling with fear.
“What’s happening to me?” I whispered aloud, voice trembling. I didn’t know what was wrong. All I felt was this overwhelming dread—like the ground was opening beneath me.
The pain refused to subside.
I left the club, still feeling that ache deep inside. When I got home, I saw Mom and Dad sitting together, serious, waiting.
Their faces told me everything.
“Son, it’s good you’re here. We need to tell you something,” Dad said softly.
I rubbed my stomach, feeling the pain again.
“What is it, Papa?” I asked, voice small.
They exchanged looks, then Dad spoke again.
“Your grandfather needs someone with him at the villa,” he said quietly.
My stomach clenched tighter.
“Your papa and grandpa have arranged everything. Your grandpa needs you there now. He’ll take care of you.”
“What about my sibling?” I asked, voice trembling.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s at a boarding house. I’m worried about you. Your mom will work abroad, and your grandpa will help her apply at the company run by your uncle in Hong Kong.”
I looked down, feeling the weight of it all. “Didn’t you even let me drop my bag in my room?” I mumbled. The pain still lingered, relentless.
“Is that all? Nothing else, Ma? I understand. And the villa is closer to the university—I can go there sometimes to clean. If you’re worried I’ll be mad, I won’t be. If having us all together makes life better, why would I stop it?”
“Come here, anak,” Dad said softly, standing up. He pulled me into a hug.
Cheesy.
After that, I hurried to my room, shutting the door behind me. I stared at my bed, the place where all my anger and tears had spilled out—where everything felt raw and heavy.
I opened Facebook, hesitating before checking my messages.
Her name appeared, along with a message she had sent. It had been days since I last reached out, and now she finally replied.
I pressed my hand over my eyes, feeling the sting.
I chuckled softly, then a little louder—then the sadness crept in. My voice cracked as I started to cry.
How could she be this cruel?
Enough.
Without thinking, I archived her account—shutting her out, closing that chapter.
I didn’t bother opening our conversation. I knew the “hello” I saw was just a fragment—her tired, reluctant way of saying she was done.
I lay in bed, chest heavy, feeling the ache of her absence.
---
[Clayrin Aisfine Ezz]
“I'm home, Mother Earth!” I called out, stepping into the house, the scent of her cooking already filling the air. I could almost taste the aroma—something savory, comforting.
I made my way to the kitchen, the chopping board balancing on my lap like a trophy. “Since when do I cook bad, huh? Are you scolding me?”
Mama’s eyes narrowed, a warning glinting in her gaze.
“Sorry,” I said, quickly setting the chopping board aside.
She scooped up her pot and moved toward the stove.
“How are you, anak?”
“Hmm? I’m fine. Still weird?” I answered, shrugging.
I opened the fridge, grabbing a carton of milk. The cold hit my hand, and I took a sip.
“Ma, is this still okay? It’s expired tomorrow,” I asked.
“If not, you’ll end up in the hospital,” she shot back, dead serious.
“You’ve got a point,” I muttered, downing the rest.
I looked for more snacks, rummaging through the fridge.
“Clay, if you gain weight, it’ll be hard to lose.”
“Mom, body-shamer,” I teased, grinning.
She laughed, shaking her head.
I fake-pouted, grabbing a cucumber, washing it thoroughly, then biting into it without peeling.
“Change your clothes, Clay. You’re in uniform and already pigging out,” she said.
“Yup!” I said, rushing upstairs.
I opened my window, stepping out onto the terrace on the first floor.
The late afternoon air was crisp, the sky painted with the somber hues of sunset—yellow and orange clouds, some shaped like lewd figures.
My mind drifted, my green thoughts wandering mischievously.
Just as I was about to lie down, my phone buzzed on the study table. Lazy as I was, I reached for it.
A notification from Facebook.
I hesitated, then smiled—he finally sent a friend request after days of silence.
This guy really is different.
Totally different from those angelic, gentle types who hide secret lusts behind innocent smiles.
I looked at his profile picture—completely different from mine.
Maybe he’s annoyed by me. Maybe I worry too much.
I smiled sweetly, closing my eyes, pressing the phone to my chest, feeling both hopeful and uncertain.
To be continued.