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#neverforget

I need my Danon back...PLEASE I NEED MY DANON BACK

yoonchae… blonde yoonchae… blonde chae… hold me back

Maybe This Time

Synopsis: Years after leaving Manila, you return for a school project—only to meet a stranger who feels achingly familiar. As fleeting encounters turn into something deeper, buried childhood memories begin to surface, leading you back to the girl you once loved... and never truly forgot. Pairing: Sophia Laforteza x Fem reader A/N: Fluff (?), not much romance, just two souls finding each other again. Sophia is a UPD student here hehe. I'm done writing this bye, this fic took sooo long, and btw im not in uni yet so all things here are js based on my research sorey. I got this story idea as i was listening to a song a month ago (?) i dont really remember but i went on and off writing this. inaantok na aq boi. DEF NOT PROOFREADso sorry

Truth to be told, you barely even remember your childhood. Probably because you and your family moved a lot back then, you once lived in Laguna, then moved to Batangas, and then to Pampanga; which, of course, you know how to speak the dialect. The list goes on and on until you somehow end up at Manila, the capital of the Philippines. It wasn’t what you expected; it was loud, dirty, and polluted, but somehow, you were happy.

​Why happy? Because you’re finally away from those mean kids who used to bully you back in the province, and that one particular girl whom you like to call Mutya. She wasn’t exactly the meanest, but wasn’t the friendliest either. You thought that at first, but it was the biggest lie you later soon realized. But what can a six-year-old do? You were young and stupid. But the past is the past.

​There’s one place you remember clearly, though, Manila. It was scary when you first heard of it, sitting in the back of the car with your older brother, who seemed to hate the thought of moving more than anything in his life. When you asked why, he just screamed.

​Your mom said it’s just him being a teenager and that it’ll pass, but it never did. The ride was slow and exhausting, with the speaker blasting some old Filipino classics while your mom slept and your brother playing on his PSP, muttering curses under his breath, which your dad heard but just sighed.

​You sat there quietly, hugging the teddy bear close to your chest like it was the most precious thing in the world to you. Watching as the city slowly welcomed you into its arms.

​The buildings grew taller the deeper you went, stretching high into the sky like giants you’d only ever seen on television. The road became busier, cars crowding every lane, horns echoing after one another as if the whole place spoke in its noise. Jeepneys painted in bright colors raced past, their metal sides rattling as they swerved between lanes like they owned the road.

You heard your dad mumble, “These drivers never change, always racing through traffic like it's a competition,” shaking his head but keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

A jeepney suddenly cut in front of your car, its brake lights flashing red. Your mom stirred in her sleep for a moment before settling back down. Your brother didn’t even look up from his PSP, just pressed the buttons harder and muttered another quiet curse when his character lost.

Outside, the city kept rushing forward — pedestrians weaving through cars, vendors stepping back from the curb, motorcycles squeezing into spaces that didn’t look big enough to fit a bicycle. Everything felt fast, impatient, loud.

You tightened your grip on your teddy bear. Back home, the loudest thing at this hour would’ve been the wind brushing through the trees. But here, in Manila, even the silence seemed noisy.

Then you dozed off, you don’t even remember when you got to your new home, all you remember is a little girl waving at you as your dad carried you inside your new home. Little did you know that the girl would make you the happiest kid in the entire world.

RING! RING!

Your alarm blared into the quiet morning, dragging you out of another dream about that faceless girl. It was always the same—blurred features, familiar presence, a feeling you could never quite explain.

You opened your eyes slowly, still heavy with sleep, and turned your head toward the clock. 6:30 AM. A soft groan left your lips. Right. You weren’t a kid anymore. You were now an Architecture student at the University of San Carlos, and 7 AM classes did not wait for anyone’s nostalgia.

You forced yourself up, moving through your morning routine half-awake. A quick wash, hair tied back in a hurry, uniform slightly wrinkled because you didn’t bother ironing it properly last night. You grabbed a piece of bread from the table before slipping your shoes on and rushing out the door. The fresh Cebu morning air wrapped around you gently cool, humid, and alive.

As you walked, you took small bites of your bread, passing rows of market stalls already buzzing with activity. Vendors arranged vegetables in neat piles, jeepneys revved their engines, and tricycles waited for early passengers. You couldn’t help but think how strange it was—in other countries, people might still be asleep at this hour.

But not in the Philippines. Here, mornings began before the sun fully decided to rise.

When you finally looked up, the towering campus building stood in front of you, intimidating as ever. The glass windows reflected the soft morning light, reminding you just how long the day ahead would be. You let out a tired sigh. You’d already done enough cardio just getting here.

—

Entering the studio already feeling drained, you slipped into your usual seat by the window. Your sketchbook was open, lines half-drawn from the night before, graphite smudged near the edges where your hand had rested too long. You told yourself you’d finish the perspective before lunch — before your brain decided to give up on you again.

The door swung open. Your professor walked in wearing an unusually bright smile. “Settle down, everyone.”

Chairs scraped against the floor as the class straightened up. A few people exchanged curious looks. It was too early for that kind of grin. He placed his folder on the table and clasped his hands together. “Well, young architects,” he began, scanning the room dramatically, “your time has come to shine.”

“I’m very pleased to inform you that selected Architecture students of the University of San Carlos will be conducting a major project study in Quezon City, Manila.”

For a second, the room was silent.

“Manila?!” “Sir, like… Metro Manila?” “When will we leave?” “Tomorrow morning,” your professor answered. “For real?” “That fast?” Gasps and whispers erupted around you.

Manila. For some of your classmates, it had always been a distant place—something you saw in movies, in competitions, in opportunities that felt just slightly out of reach. Most of you had grown up in Cebu, built your routines here, and imagined your futures here.

And now, suddenly—“You’ll be staying there for a few weeks,” your professor continued, clearly enjoying the reaction. “Site studies, documentation, and a final presentation. This will be one of your biggest projects yet.”

Your grip on your pencil tightened. Quezon City.

Someone from the back raised his hand. “But, sir… where in Quezon City?”

That question sparked a fresh wave of murmurs across the room. QC wasn’t exactly small—it was practically a city of its own.

Your professor adjusted his glasses, clearly expecting the reaction. “Near Diliman,” he replied casually. “Specifically around the academic district. You’ll be studying urban integration and mixed-use redevelopment in that area.”

Diliman.

A few students straightened in their seats. “Like… near UP?” someone whispered.

Your professor nodded. “Yes. Around the University of the Philippines Diliman. That’s where most of your site observations will take place.”

The room erupted again—louder this time. UP Diliman. One of the most talked-about campuses in the country. A place people only imagined visiting unless they studied there. The wide academic oval, the trees, the culture—it felt so far from the life you’d built in Cebu. You swallowed. You don’t know what to feel. Happy? Excited? Confused? Scared? Wait, why would you be scared?

There’s no reason to be scared. You’re only returning to Manila for a few weeks. You spent the rest of the class zoning out, the professor’s voice fading into nothing but background noise. Words like urban integration and site analysis floated past you without meaning. Your pencil had stopped moving long ago. You didn’t even notice the bell ring.

It wasn’t until a hand started waving dramatically in front of your face that you blinked.

“Huy!” Miguel—Migs—leaned closer, eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve been calling you for, like, two minutes. Are you feeling alright?”

“Huh?” you muttered intelligently.

You glanced around and froze. The studio was empty. Chairs were pushed in. The usual morning chaos had vanished. Oh. Next class.

You looked back at Migs and forced a small smile. “Yeah. I’m alright.”

He didn’t look convinced. Nevertheless, you quickly gathered your sketchbook and pens, shoving them into your bag with more force than necessary. “Time for next class?”

Migs sighed dramatically. “No. The professor emailed. He’s not coming today. We’ve got a vacancy for a few hours.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’ve been acting weird since the Manila announcement.”

You avoided his stare and adjusted the strap of your bag. “I’m not weird.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

Before you could protest, he grabbed you lightly by the shoulders and started steering you toward the door. “Come on. The others are at the canteen. Since we’re apparently going to Manila and becoming big-time architects, we deserve at least pancit canton to celebrate.”

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, “But you know I don’t eat that.”

“Well, we can always buy you something else.”

As he guided you out of the studio, sunlight spilled through the hallway windows, warming the polished floors. Manila. Quezon City. Diliman. The names echoed in your head like something unfinished. And for reasons you couldn’t explain, your heart wouldn’t settle... Just why?

—

Upon entering the noisy canteen, you immediately spotted your friends buying food (and fighting with other students as they cut the line). Karina—your friend—saw you and Migs and tugged the other to leave with her before the fight escalated to something worse.

“Finally, you guys are here. Took you almost 30 minutes.” She said. “Sorry, Y/N here was zoning out,” Migs answered. “Again?” Chae asked, staring at you in worry. "It’s nothing, I was just thinking about something.” You finally spoke up.

“It’s definitely something, you weren’t responding when I was calling your name.” Migs retorted before following you as you walked out of the canteen. The air was too hot for you to stay.

“Well, what are you thinking about?” Karina asked, tugging at your sleeve to slow your pace down a bit.

“Probably that faceless girl again,” Chae butted in.

“Ohh, right. Did you dream of her again?” Karina looked at you with curiosity, “Tell us what happened!”

You let out a sigh before sitting down on a bench, “It’s nothing, really.”

“I don’t believe it,” Migs said, causing you to roll your eyes. Of course, you don’t.

“Same,” Chae added, sitting next to you.

“I dreamed of that day we first moved to Manila, a girl was waving at me.” You said softly.

“That only?” Chae asked, “Are there no more stories about your childhood?”

“There is duh, but I don’t think Y/N will tell us.” Migs sighed, crossing his arms while staring at you. He’s worried, you know he is. He’s like an older brother to you more than your own brother ever did.

“Just tell us about the girl,” Chae nudged gently. “Only if you remember something.”

You looked down at your hands for a moment, fingers tracing the edge of the bench. “It’s... not that interesting,” you muttered.

“Y/N,” Karina groaned dramatically. “You’ve been dreaming about this mysterious girl for years. That is definitely interesting.”

You sighed, realizing they weren’t going to let this go. “Fine.”

The three of them leaned closer immediately.

“It happened when we first moved to Manila,” you began slowly. “I was six... maybe seven. I remember being really upset because we had just moved and I didn’t know anyone yet.” Your eyes drifted somewhere far away, the memory slowly piecing itself together. “I was sitting outside our old house with my teddy bear. My mom told me to wait while she talked to the neighbors.” You paused, frowning slightly. “Then I noticed someone staring at me, but I ignored her and then...” “I don’t know, I just dozed off, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Wait, someone as in a kid?” Chae asked quietly.

“Yeah. A girl.”

“What did she look like?” Karina asked.

You shook your head. “That’s the weird part. I can’t remember her face at all.” You laughed softly. “It’s like my brain just erased it.”

“But I remember what she did.”

Your friends waited.

“She waved at me from across the street first as Dad was carrying me inside the new house.” You went quiet, trying to remember.

“And then the next day, my mom forced me to go and play outside, but I just sat on the porch and watched the other kids play,” you sighed. “Then the same girl came up to me and asked why I looked so sad.”

“What did you say?” Migs asked.

“I told her I didn’t have any friends here.” You smiled faintly at the memory.

“And she said, ‘Then I’ll be your first one.’”

Chae placed a hand over her mouth. “That’s actually cute.”

You chuckled quietly. “She was really energetic. Like... really energetic. She grabbed my hand and dragged me to this empty lot near our house and said we could build a ‘secret kingdom’ there.”

“A kingdom?” Karina laughed.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “She said when we grow up, we’d build real buildings there. I told her I wanted to design houses someday.”

Migs blinked. “You were already set on architecture at six?”

You shrugged lightly. “I guess.”

“And she told me...” You hesitated for a second. “’Then you’ll build my house when we’re older.’”

The smile on your face lingered—then slowly faded. “We used to play almost every day after that,” you continued quietly. “After school, before sunset... it just became normal.”

Silence settled around your group.

“Then what happened?” Chae asked gently.

You looked down again. “We moved.”

“To Cebu?” Migs asked.

You nodded.

“It was sudden. I didn’t even get to say goodbye properly.” Your fingers tightened slightly around the edge of your bag. “I remember waiting for her that last day... but she never came.”

Karina frowned. “Maybe she didn’t know you were leaving?”

“Maybe,” you whispered.

“And now she shows up in your dreams?” Chae asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“Still no face?” Migs added.

You shook your head slowly. “Not fully.”

You glanced up, eyes distant. “But it’s getting clearer.”

A quiet tension settled between your friends, because this wasn’t just some random dream anymore. It felt like a memory trying to find its way back—slowly.

—

The morning was louder than usual.

Voices overlapped, footsteps echoed against concrete, and the low hum of a bus engine idling outside the campus gates made everything feel rushed—like the day had started without waiting for anyone to catch up.

“Y/N! Bilisan mo!” (”Hurry up!”) Migs shouted from somewhere behind you.

“I’m walking as fast as I can!” you shot back, adjusting the strap of your heavy bag that felt like it carried your entire life inside it—sketchbooks, pens, rulers, clothes obviously, and unfinished plates you swore you’d fix on the bus.

Students from the University of San Carlos filled the walkway, all leading in the same direction. Some were dragging suitcases, others balancing tubes of rolled plans, and a few were still half-asleep, clutching coffee like it was the only thing keeping them alive.

The rented buses stood just outside the gate, engines rumbling impatiently. Its doors were wide open, and you spotted your professor standing nearby, clipboard in hand, calling out names like it was some kind of field trip, well, except it didn’t feel like one. It felt bigger.

“Guys, come on!” you shouted, “Professor Santos is over there!”

“Architecture students! Make sure your groups are complete before boarding!” he called out. “We are not leaving anyone behind!”

“Oi, wait!” Chae jogged up beside you, slightly out of breath. “Did you bring your materials?”

You gave her a look. “Of course I did.”

“Good. Because if you didn’t, I’m not sharing mine.”

Karina appeared on your other side, sipping iced coffee like this was a casual outing. “Relax, Chae. She’s the most prepared out of all of us.”

“Prepared but mentally absent,” Migs added, finally catching up. “She’s been zoning out since yesterday, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Can we not do this in the early morning?”

“Too late,” he grinned.

You tried to laugh it off, but your chest felt... strange.

Manila. Quezon City. The words had been echoing in your head since yesterday’s announcement. You tightened your grip on your bag. It’s just a school trip. Just a few weeks. So why did it feel like you were about to walk into something you weren’t ready for?

“Y/N!”

You blinked.

Your professor was looking straight at you. “Group complete?”

You glanced at your friends. Migs. Chae. Karina.

You nodded. “Complete, sir.”

“Good. Get on the bus.”

One by one, your classmates began climbing inside, filling the space with chatter and excitement. Some were already taking pictures, others arguing over seats.

Migs nudged you lightly. “Window seat?”

You hesitated for a second and then nodded. “Yeah.”

As you stepped onto the bus, the cool air-conditioning hit your skin, a sharp contrast to the humid Cebu morning. You made your way to a seat by the window, dropping your bag beside you. Outside, the campus slowly blurred as more students boarded. You rested your head lightly against the glass. For a brief moment, your eyes fluttered shut. And just like that—a memory flashed in your mind. A girl. Standing across the street. Waving.

You opened your eyes immediately, heart skipping.

The bus engine roared louder. You swallowed.

Manila was waiting. And somehow—it felt like someone else was, too.

—

The bus hadn’t even left the city yet when your eyes finally gave in.

Your head rested against the cool glass, the vibrations of the engine steady beneath you. Voices blurred into the background, turning into nothing but distant noise as sleep slowly pulled you under.

And then—you were there again. Back at the same street. The same soft afternoon light.

A small version of you stood by the gate, clutching your teddy bear tightly to your chest. The air felt warmer here, quieter... like time had slowed down just for this moment.

Across the street was her. The girl. Only this time, she was closer and no longer just a silhouette.

You could see the outline of her hair, the way it moved when the wind passed by. You could hear her laughter—loud, familiar, like something you’d heard a thousand times before.

Your chest tightened.

She lifted her hand and waved. “Hey!”

Her voice was clearer now. Too clear.

You took a step forward. “Wait—”

Everything blurred. Her face... Just a little more—

—

“Y/N!” Your eyes shot open.

“HOY! GISING NA!” (”Hey! Wake up!”) Migs’ voice practically exploded beside you as he shook your shoulder.

You blinked rapidly, disoriented.

The quiet dream was shattered instantly, replaced by noise. Loud, chaotic, very awake noise.

“PASS THE CHIPS!" “Hindi akin ‘yan, kay Karina ‘yan!” (”That’s not mine, that’s Karina’s!”) “BRO, DON’T OPEN IT LIKE THAT-”

You sat up straight, heart still racing as you tried to process where you were. The bus, right.

Your classmates were in full chaos mode now. Someone had already connected their phone to a speaker to a speaker, blasting old OPM songs at an unnecessarily loud volume. A group at the back was laughing over something you didn’t catch, while a few others were arguing over who got the window seats.

“Finally,” Migs said, plopping down beside you. “Akala ko na-coma ka na.” (”I thought you went into a coma”).

You rubbed your eyes. “Can you not yell like that?”

“No,” he grinned. “You were dead asleep. What were you dreaming about?”

You hesitated.

Chae suddenly popped up from the seat in front of you, resting her chin on the headrest. “The girl again?”

Karina turned around too, drink in hand. “I bet it’s the girl.”

You groaned, “Can we not make this a thing?”

“So it is the girl,” Migs smirked.

You looked away, back toward the window. The city outside was slowly passing by, familiar roads turning into something less recognizable the farther you went.

“... She was closer this time,” you admitted quietly.

That was enough to shut them up for a second.

Chae’s expression softened. “Closer how?”

“I could hear her voice,” you said, fingers lightly gripping the edge of your seat. “And I almost saw her face.”

“Almost?” Karina asked.

You nodded.

“Then what happened?” Migs leaned in slightly.

You exhaled. “You woke me up.”

“Oy, kasalanan ko pa?” (”Oh, now it’s my fault?”) He scoffed, throwing his hands up.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile slipped through. From the back of the bus, someone suddenly shouted—“MAGKAKARAOKE NA!” (”We’re starting karaoke!”)

“No way,” Karina immediately stood up. “Give me the mic.”

“You don’t even need a mic,” Migs muttered. “I heard that!”

Laughter erupted around you as the already chaotic bus somehow got even louder. Chae got pulled into the commotion, leaving you and Migs behind for a moment. He glanced at you. “You good?”

You nodded, leaning your head back against the seat. “Yeah.”

But as the music started, voices singing off-key and laughter filling every corner of the bus—your mind drifted back. To the dream. To the girl. The way she looked at you was like she already knew you.

You swallowed. She was getting clearer and somehow, that scared you more than not remembering at all.

—

By the time the bus finally rolled into Quezon City, the sky had already begun to shift into late afternoon hues. The noise inside slowly died down, replaced by tired sighs and limbs that felt stretched.

“We’re here,” someone muttered.

You lifted your head, blinking as the unfamiliar city came into view. Tall buildings. Endless cars. People everywhere. It felt different. Very different.

“Welcome to QC, architects!” your professor announced as the bus turned into the driveway of their hotel. “Get your things ready. We’ll be checking in first, then you’re free for the rest of the evening. Just be back before curfew.”

The bus slowed. Everyone started looking out the windows.

Karina leaned forward, squinting dramatically at the view. “So this is Manila...” she said slowly, scanning everything like a critic.

She paused. “...ang siksik” (”so crowded”).

Then she turned her head and looked straight at Migs. “...tsaka parang polluted” (”and it seems polluted”).

Migs blinked. “—Hoy?! Ba’t ako yung tinitignan mo?!” (”Hey?! Why are you looking at me?!”) He shot back immediately.

Chae snorted.

Karina just shrugged, completely unfazed. “You just fit the description.”

“Excuse me?!” Migs placed a hand on his chest, offended. “Ako pa talaga?!” (”Me? Really?!”)

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, shaking your head. “Grabi ka, Karina” (”You’re harsh, Karina”), you said.

“Sakto lang” (”Just right”), she smirked. “And observation lang din” (”And it’s just an observation”).

Chae rolled her eyes, still laughing. “You guys seriously watch too many movies.”

“Worth it naman,” (”It’s worth it though”) Karina replied proudly.

“Not for me,” Migs muttered under his breath, still offended.

The tension from the long ride eased instantly, laughter filling the bus as it finally came to a stop. You looked out the window again. Manila was crowded. Noisy. Alive in a way Cebu wasn’t.

You adjusted your bag on your lap. This was going to be a long few weeks.

—

The hotel was nicer than you expected. Clean lobby. Strong air-conditioning. Soft lightning that made you want to lie down immediately and not move for the next ten hours.

“Room assignments are posted here!” Chae called, pointing at the list.

Everyone crowded around it at once.

“Wait—bakit hindi tayo magkakasama?!” (”Why aren’t we in the same room?!”) “Swap tayo, dali!” (”Let’s switch, hurry!”) “NO, I CALLED THIS ROOM FIRST-” “Guys, relax!” someone laughed.

You scanned the list quickly. Room 304.

You found your name right beside—“Karina?” you turned.

She was already grinning. “Roommates.”

“Nice.”

“Wow, sana all.” Migs muttered behind you. “I’m stuck with these guys.”

“Skill issue,” Karina shot back.

“Excuse me?”

You let out a tired sigh while shaking your head, “Oh my god.”

—

A few minutes later, you pushed open the door to your room. Cool air hit your face instantly.

“Okay, this is nice,” Karina said, walking in and dropping her bag on one of the beds.

You followed, tossing yours onto the other bed with a quiet thud before immediately sitting down. “Five minutes,” you muttered.

“Same,” Karina said, already kicking off her shoes.

You barely had time to lie back when—knock knock knock. Without waiting, the door opened.

“Hello? We live here now,” Migs announced, stepping inside like he owned the place. Chae slipped in after him, closing the door behind her.

“You don’t even stay here,” Karina said, raising a brow.

“Details,” Migs waved it off, already looking around. “Uy, ang ayos ng room nyo ah.” (”Hey, your room is nice”).

“Of course,” Karina smirked. “We got the better one.”

“Wow, favoritism,” he muttered.

You buried your face into your pillow. “Can you guys not be loud for five minutes?”

“No,” Chae said simply, sitting on the edge of your bed. “We’re going out.”

You groaned. “I just got here.”

“Exactly,” Karina said, standing up and already fixing her hair in the mirror. “First time in QC. We’re not wasting it.”

Migs nodded. “There’s a campus nearby. Let’s check it out.”

Chae glanced at you. “Come on. You’re not actually going to sleep, right?”

A campus. Right.

You sighed, pushing yourself up from the bed. “Fine.”

Karina grinned. “Knew it.”

“Give me two minutes,” you said, grabbing your bag.

“Make it one,” Migs replied. “Make it zero,” Karina added.

You rolled your eyes. “Get out so I can fix myself.

“Grabe, pa-importante,” (”Wow, acting so important”), Migs muttered as he and Chae headed for the door.

“Labas.” (”Get out”). Karina pointed.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, stepping out.

The door closed, you let out a small breath, glancing at your reflection for a second.

“Let’s go,” Karina said.

You nodded. “Coming.”

And just like that, the two of you stepped out of the room—not knowing you were about to get completely lost.

—

Not long after, the four of you found yourselves walking under the streetlights, following the path that led to the University of the Philippines Diliman. The difference was immediate. It was quieter.

The roads stretched wider, lined with tall trees that swayed gently with the evening breeze. Students passed by in small groups, some laughing, some just walking side by side like they had nowhere else to be.

“This place feels...different,” you said, glancing around.

“Peaceful,” Chae nodded.

“Big,” Karina added, turning in a slow circle.

Migs stretched his arms. “I like it here. Parang walang stress.” (”Seems stress-free”).

You gave a small nod, hands tucked into your pockets. It really did feel different. You just couldn’t explain why.

“Let’s go there!” Karina suddenly pointed toward a lit pathway.

“Wait—” you started, but the three of them were already walking ahead.

You sighed. “Of course.”

You followed, catching up easily at first. They were talking about something—probably food, or where to go next—but your attention drifted. You slowed down a little, eyes wandering around the place. The trees. The buildings. Even the air felt...familiar.

You stopped for a second, looking at a nearby sign. Then a tree. Then—You looked up and they were gone. “...Great.” You sighed.

Turning around left, then right—nothing. Just people you didn’t recognize.

“Okay...don’t panic,” you muttered, gripping your phone a little tighter. You started walking. Maybe they went this way...or that way. You tried to retrace your steps, but everything began to look the same. Paths. Trees. Lights.

You let out a small breath. “Nice, Y/N. First day, naligaw agad.” (”lost already”).

—

A few minutes later, you found yourself stepping into a wide open field. You slowed down. The space opened up in front of you, wider than anything you’d seen since entering the campus. The air felt cooler here, quieter. You stopped walking.

“...Okay, this is definitely not where we came from.” You looked around, completely lost now.

You didn’t know it, but you had wandered into the Sunken Garden. You took a few steps forward, trying to spot anything familiar—and walked straight into someone.

“Oof—” “Ah—sorry—”

Papers slipped from her hands, scattering across the grass.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, crouching down. “I wasn’t looking-” “It’s okay, I-”

You both paused. Same timing.

You reached for the same sheet at the same time, fingers brushing for just a second and something in your chest pulled. You froze. It wasn’t painful. It wasn’t even strong. Just a soft tug, but enough to make you notice. Like something was pulling you a little closer, even when you weren’t moving. You slowly looked up and met her eyes.

For a moment, everything else faded into the background—the distant chatter, the footsteps, the quiet hum of the campus at night,

There it was again. That feeling. It started small. Then something in your chest flickered—like a flame catching onto something it had been waiting for. Warm and sudden. Unfamiliar, yet not entirely new.

You inhaled slightly. Is it a memory? No...not quite. Perhaps—a feeling. Something old, buried deep enough that you didn’t recognize it anymore. You weren’t sure. You just knew it was there.

And then—you noticed the way she was looking at you. So still, so quiet. Like she felt it too. Or maybe you were just imagining it. Your hand lingered for a second longer than it should have before you pulled it back, handing her the papers you picked up.

“Here,” you said softly. Your voice sounded normal, but your chest didn’t feel the same.

She took them, fingers brushing yours again—just as brief, just as strange, neither of you spoke. Because somehow, it didn’t feel like a moment that needed words. You shifted slightly, suddenly aware of how long the silence had stretched. Say something. What? Anything. Your eyes dropped to the papers in her hands—sketches, clean lines, detailed and confident.

“...That’s a nice drawing,” you blurted out, a little too quickly.

So smooth that it made you mentally winced.

But she didn’t laugh. She glanced down at her papers, then back at you. “Oh—uh, thanks.”

You cleared your throat, trying to recover. “Are you...Taking Fine Arts or something?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, still looking at you like she was trying to figure something out. “Visual communication.”

“That’s cool,” you said, giving a small nod. “It’s really good.”

“Thanks,” she repeated, softer this time.

A short pause, then her brows furrowed slightly.

“...Are you lost?”

You froze. Well, of course, she noticed.

You let out a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Uh...yeah. A little.”

“A little?” she repeated, amused.

“Okay, a lot,” you admitted, glancing around as the answer might magically appear.

She smiled and for some reason, that made it worse.

“I can help you,” she said. “Where are you supposed to be going?”

“Honestly?” you let out a breath. “I don’t even know anymore. I was with my friends and then I kind of...wandered off.”

“Nice,” she nodded, like that made perfect sense. “Happens.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, she adjusted the papers in her hands before stepping slightly beside you instead of in front.

“I’m Sophia, by the way.”

You hesitated for half a second. Then—

“Y/N.”

The name felt heavier leaving your mouth than it should have.

Sophia repeated it under her breath, like she was testing how it sounded. “...Y/N.”

You didn’t miss it. “Yeah.”

She gave a small nod, then gestured forward. “Come on. I’ll walk you back before you get even more lost.”

“Hey, I’m not that—” You paused. “...okay, yeah. Lead the way.”

She laughed softly. And just like that, the two of you started walking side by side, at first, it was quiet. Not awkward exactly—just unfamiliar.

“You’re not from here,” she said after a moment.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” she smiled. “You look like you’re trying to memorize everything.”

You glanced around. “...First time here.”

“UP?” she asked.

“QC,” you corrected. “I’m from Cebu. We’re here for a project.”

“Architecture?” she guessed.

You looked at her, surprised. “Yeah.”

She shrugged lightly. “You have that look.”

“What look?”

“Sleep-deprived,” she said without missing a beat.

You laughed. “Fair enough.”

The conversation came easier after that. Small things. Where were you staying? How long would you be in the city? Random complaints about school. But every now and then, there’d be a pause. A glance. Something unspoken is sitting quietly between the two of you. Like both of you were thinking the same thing, but neither of you knew how to say it. Or if you even should.

You shoved your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, trying to ignore the strange warmth still lingering in your chest. It didn’t go away. Not even as you kept walking. Not even as you tried to focus on the conversation. And definitely not when she walked just a little closer. Like she didn’t notice she was doing it, or maybe she did.

A few meters away, completely unaware of everything happening at the Sunken Garden.

“Gago, ang sarap—” (”This is so good”) Chae mumbled mid-bite, eyes half-focused on the street food in her hand.

Then she froze. “...Wait.” Her eyes narrowed.

She leaned forward a little, squinting past the small crowd. “Wait...wait—” Without a warning... SLAP.

Migs choked slightly. “Ano ba?!” (”What was that for?!”)

“IS THAT Y/N?” Chae hissed, still staring.

“Ha? Saan?” (”Huh? Where?”) Migs turned around, still chewing, sauce very much visible on his lips. “What are you—”

He paused. “...Ay.” (”Oh.”)

Across the open field was you. Walking. Talking. Laughing. With someone.

“Since when did she find people?!” Migs muttered. “Since when did she leave us?!” Chae shot back. “Since when did she replace us?!” he added dramatically. “Focus!” Chae grabbed his arm.

“KARINA!” she suddenly yelled.

A few steps away, Karina was already pulling her phone out, ready to call you, she turned. “What—”

Chae pointed aggressively. “THE PERSON YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IS RIGHT THERE!”

Karina followed her finger; she saw you and paused. “...What the hell?” She took a step forward immediately. “Why is she with someone—”

Chae grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Wait.”

Karina frowned. “What?”

Chae squinted again, eyes now locked on the girl beside you. “...Who is that?”

Migs leaned slightly to the side, trying to get a better look. “...I don’t know,” he said, lowering his voice a bit.

There was a short pause. All three of them are watching you and Sophia talking like you’d known each other longer than just a few minutes.

Karina slowly crossed her arms. “Since when does Y/N talk to strangers like that?”

Migs wiped the corner of his mouth, still staring. “Uh, since never.”

Chae didn’t say anything; she just kept watching. Because something about the way you were standing there felt a little too natural. A little too comfortable. Like that wasn’t your first time meeting her.

“...Okay,” Karina said finally. “Now, I’m curious.”

—

By the time the two of you slowed down, the campus had already faded behind you. Streetlights replaced the trees. The quiet turned into distant traffic. You were still talking about random things, nothing too deep—until you both stopped at the same time.

You looked up. “...Oh.”

The hotel stood right in front of you.

You blinked. “...You walked me back here.”

Sophia followed your gaze, then let out a small breath, like she hadn’t noticed either. "Yeah... I guess I did.”

A short pause settled between you. Not comfortable. Just... new. You shifted your weight slightly, rubbing your arm instinctively.

“Uh... thanks,” you said. “For, you know... not letting me get even more lost.”

She smiled, small and easy. “It’s nothing.”

You nodded once. “Right.”

Neither of you moved.

“...So,” Sophia started, glancing at the entrance before looking back at you, “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You hesitated for half a second. “Yeah,” you said. “See you.”

There was a tiny part of you that felt like you should say something else. But you didn’t know what. So, instead, you just gave a small wave and turned toward the entrance. The glass doors slid open and just like that, you walked inside.

 —

Sophia stayed where she was. Watching the doors close and you fading away from her sight.

The reflection of the streetlights flickered across the glass, but she barely noticed. Her chest still felt... off. Not in a bad way, of course. Just... a bit unsettled.

She exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair. “Why does she feel so familiar...” she muttered under her breath.

She shook her head lightly, turning away. “Whatever.”

She started walking back. But, she didn’t get far. “SOPHIA!”

She closed her eyes for a second. Of course. She turned around just in time to see Daniela jogging toward her, Manon walking right behind her, both looking way too energetic for this hour.

“What are you doing here?” Daniela asked immediately, not even giving her time to speak. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“I wasn’t—”

“And who were you with?” Daniela added, narrowing her eyes slightly like she already had a theory.

Manon crossed her arms, clearly interested. “You disappeared for like, thirty minutes.”

Sophia sighed. “I just helped someone find their way,” she said simply, continuing to walk.

Daniela followed instantly. “Someone?” “Who?” “From where?” “Is she cute?” “Daniela,” Manon said, trying to stifle her laughter. “What? I’m asking important questions.”

Sophia walked faster. “Guys, it’s nothing.”

“That’s not ‘nothing,’” Daniela shot back.

Manon nodded. “You don’t just disappear for ‘nothing.’”

Sophia didn’t answer; she just kept walking. Faster this time.

Daniela gasped dramatically. “Oh my god, she’s hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Sopiha said, already a few steps ahead.

“Lies!” Manon pointed at her back.

Daniela shook her head, clicking her tongue. “We’ll find out eventually.”

Sophia sighed again. She really should’ve expected this.

Meanwhile, you pushed open your room door. “Finally.” Then you stopped.

Miguel. Charmaine. Karina. All three of them were inside. Sitting, waiting, with the same exact look on their faces, mischief. You blinked. “...Why do you all look like that?”

Karina leaned back against the bed, arms crossed and smirking. “Well,” she said. “Care to explain,” Migs added, “who you were with?” Chae tilted her head slightly. "And why do you look like you’ve known her your whole life?”

You froze. “...What?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Karina said. “We saw you.” Migs nodded. “Walking. Talking. Smiling.” Chae leaned forward a bit, “with a girl.”

Silence. All eyes on you.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. “...I got lost.” Migs stared at you. “...That’s not the point.” “Very much not the point,” Karina agreed. Chae smiled slightly. “So...” “Start talking.” Needless to say, you spent an hour explaining everything. An hour of torture because they keep interrupting you.

—

“...And that’s it.” You crossed your arms, already done explaining. “She helped me get back. End of story.”

“End of story?” Migs repeated slowly. “That’s your story?” Karina added, brows raised. Chae tilted her head. “You expect us to believe that?” You stared at them. “Because that’s literally what happened.” “Mm,” Migs nodded. “And you just happened to walk around with her for that long?”

“We were walking,” you said. “Because she was helping me.”

“For how long?” Karina pressed. "I don’t know.” “Exactly,” Migs pointed out. “That’s normal,” you argued.

“It’s not normal for you,” Chae cut in. “You don’t even talk to strangers like that.”

“Yeah,” Karina agreed. “You barely talk to us.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “That’s not true.” “It is,” all three said at once. You blinked. “...Okay, wow.”

Migs leaned forward. “Be honest.” “I am being honest.” “Did you like her?” he asked. “...What?” Karina gasped. “Oh, my god.” Chae covered her mouth. “WAIT.”

“Why would I?!” you immediately said. “Why not?” Migs shot back “Because I just met her, obviously?!” you replied. “That has never stopped anyone,” Karina said.

“Exactly,” Chae added. “Love at first sight exists.” “I did not fall in love,” you said, already regretting engaging. "You didn’t say you didn’t like her,” Migs pointed out. “I literally just did!”

“No, you said you didn’t fall in love,” Karina corrected, raising a finger. “Which is different,” Chae nodded. “Oh my god,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

Migs leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “So you do like her.” “I don’t—” “You hesitated,” Karina said. “I did not hesitate!” “You paused,” Chae added. “I was breathing!” “That was a suspicious breath,” Migs said.

You stared at all three of them. “…You guys are unbelievable.”

Karina smirked. “Just answer the question.”

You crossed your arms. “There is no question.”

“There is,” Migs said. “Do you like her?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. “…I don’t even know her,” you muttered instead. The three of them went quiet for half a second.

“OHHHH,” Karina dragged out.

“That’s not a no,” Chae whispered.

“That’s definitely not a no,” Migs nodded.

“OUT,” you said, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at them.

“Hey—”

“…What?” Migs said.

“Get out,” you repeated, standing up now. “All of you. Out. I’m done.”

Karina frowned. “Excuse me? This is my room.”

“I don’t care,” you said, already pushing them toward the door. “Go. Leave. Disappear.”

“Y/N—” Chae laughed as she got shoved out.

“Grabe, she’s mad,” Migs said, grabbing his stuff.

“HELLO?!” Karina resisted. “I SLEEP HERE?!”

You opened the door and shoved her out anyway.

“Y/N—!”

And slammed it shut. Silence. Then the noise.

“HEY!” Karina yelled from outside. “IT’S MY ROOM TOO! HELLO?! WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP?!”

You leaned your head against the door. “I DON’T CARE,” you shouted back.

Migs’ laughter echoed down the hallway.

“GRABE KA!” (“You’re too much!”) Karina complained.

You ignored them, walking back to your bed and dropping onto it face-first. Finally, it's quiet. You stared at the ceiling for a second. Then, you turned to your side.

“…She was just helping,” you muttered.

But your chest didn’t feel normal. That same tug. That warmth. Still there. You closed your eyes and then you were there again.

Same place, same light. But clearer, the girl stood closer now. You could hear her laugh. See the way she moved.

She ran ahead, then turned back to you. “Come on!”

You followed. “Wait—”

She stopped and looked at you. And this time—

“…Y/N.”

You woke up, sitting up slightly, breathing unevenly. The room was quiet. Dark.

You pressed your hand against your chest. “…What was that?”

—

“SOPHIA!”

She didn’t even make it halfway back when Daniela came running out of nowhere, grabbing her wrist.

“Found her.”

“Daniela—”

“Guys!” Daniela turned around dramatically. “I found her!”

And just like that, everyone appeared.

Lara. Megan. Yoonchae. Manon. All at once. Surrounding her.

“No,” Sophia said immediately, already trying to walk past them. “No, I’m not doing this.”

“Yes, you are,” Daniela said, pulling her back.

“Explain,” Megan added, crossing her arms.

“Who was she?” Yoonchae asked, already leaning forward like she was about to hear gossip.

“Where did you meet her?” Lara chimed in.

“Why were you smiling?” Daniela added.

“I was not smiling,” Sophia said.

“You were,” Manon said calmly.

“Confirmed,” Megan nodded.

Sophia blinked. “…You guys weren’t even there.”

“We saw you,” Daniela said.

“From where?!” Sophia frowned.

“That’s not the point,” Lara waved it off.

“Answer the question.”

Sophia exhaled slowly. “She got lost. I helped her. That’s it.”

“For thirty minutes?” Megan asked.

Sophia paused. “…I don’t know how long it was.”

“OHHH,” Daniela dragged out.

“You lost track of time,” Yoonchae added.

“That’s serious,” Lara said.

“It’s not serious,” Sophia replied quickly.

“You don’t even talk to people,” Megan pointed out.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Manon nodded.

Sophia started walking again and they followed. Of course they did.

“What’s her name?” Daniela asked.

Sophia didn’t answer immediately. “…Y/N.”

“YOU LEARNED HER NAME?!” Yoonchae gasped.

“That’s already suspicious,” Megan said.

“You don’t learn names,” Daniela added.

“I do,” Sophia said.

“When?” Lara asked.

Sophia didn’t answer.

“Exactly,” Daniela pointed out.

“Is she pretty?” Yoonchae asked.

Sophia stopped walking. “…That’s irrelevant.”

“That’s a yes,” Megan said.

“That’s definitely a yes,” Daniela agreed.

Sophia groaned, rubbing her temple. “You guys are so annoying.”

“And you’re hiding something,” Lara replied.

“I’m not—”

Daniela suddenly stepped in front of her, walking backwards so she could face her. “Okay, serious question.”

Sophia already didn’t like that tone.

Daniela tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing just a bit. “…What if that’s your childhood crush, huh?”

Everything went quiet. Just for a second. Sophia didn’t react immediately. Didn’t laugh, didn’t deny it. She just paused. Then looked away. “…Goodnight.”

She stepped past Daniela, walked and didn’t stop.

“HEY!” Daniela called after her. “You’re ignoring the question!”

Sophia kept walking. “See you guys tomorrow,” she said, not even turning around. The group watched her disappear into the building.

“…Oh, that got her,” Daniela said.

Megan nodded. “That definitely got her.”

Yoonchae blinked. “Wait… what if it’s actually true?”

Lara tilted her head. “That would be insane.”

Manon just crossed her arms, watching where Sophia disappeared. “…Not impossible.”

Daniela gasped.

“OH MY GOD.”

—

Later that night. Her room was quiet, finally. Sophia dropped her bag and sat on her bed.

“…Ang ingay nila.” (“They’re so noisy.”)

She reached for her sketchbook, flipped it open and started drawing. Without thinking, lines forming, soft and familiar. Until she stopped and looked down.

Her breath hitched slightly. “…Why did I draw her?”

A face, your face. Not perfect, but recognizable. She stared.

Then a memory flashed. A street, a younger her, a girl by the gate holding a teddy bear and laughing and then gone.

Sophia blinked. “…What was that?”

She looked back at the sketch. Her fingers traced the page lightly.

“…Y/N.”

The name felt strange. But not new and that stayed with her.

—

The next few days passed by fast. Too fast.

“Y/N, measure that side again!” “Wait, this doesn’t match the plan—” “Where’s Miguel?!” “Here!” Migs shouted from across the side. “I’m literally right here!” “This doesn’t align—who did this?” “Not me!”

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, adjusting the helmet slightly as you stepped back from the structure you’d been sketching.

“Then who—Migs?!”

“I said it wasn’t me!” Migs called from the other side, holding a measuring tape as if it would prove his innocence. “Why am I always the suspect?!”

“Because it’s always you,” Karina shot back without looking up from her notes.

You let out a quiet breath, crouching slightly again to double-check the markings on the ground. The sun was already high, heat settling into your skin even through the thin fabric of your shirt.

Architecture wasn’t just drawing.

It was walking around under the extreme heat, measuring, rechecking, and documenting everything like your grade depended on it—well, of course it did.

“Got it?” Chae asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you nodded, jotting something down quickly. “Just needed to recheck—gotta make sure I’m right this time.”

“Break muna!” (”Break first!”) Chae suddenly called out after chuckling.

“Finally,” Karina muttered, stretching her arms above her head. “I thought I was going to collapse.”

Migs dropped the measuring tape dramatically. “I’m already halfway there.”

You stood up, rolling your shoulders slightly to ease the tension. “...I’m grabbing a drink,” you said after a moment, glancing toward the street.

Across the site, a small cafe sat tucked between buildings. Nothing fancy—but it looked cold and quiet. Very tempting.

“No pasalubong?” (”No takeaway for us?”) Migs called out immediately.

“You have legs,” you replied without looking back.

“Ang sama mo,” (”You’re so mean”) he muttered.

You ignored him, already crossing the street.

—

The moment you stepped inside, the change was immediate.

Cool air wrapped around you, a sharp contrast to the heat outside. The noise of the street dulled, replaced by low chatter and the quiet hum of machines behind the counter.

You let out a small breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Welcome!” the barista greeted.

You nodded, scanning the menu quickly before ordering something cold. While waiting, you leaned lightly against the counter, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Your helmet hung from your arm, your vest slightly wrinkled, hair not exactly cooperating anymore. You pulled out your phone, scrolling absentmindedly.

Then—”Hey.”

You froze. Well, not completely, just enough. That voice.

You turned around, and there she was. Sophia, standing a few steps away, holding a drink, looking just as surprised as you felt—before her expression softened into something more familiar. “Hi,” she said.

“...Hi,” you replied, blinking once like you needed a second to catch up.

A small pause settled between you. Then you let out a quiet, almost awkward laugh. “What are you doing here?”

She glanced at your outfit first—your vest, the helmet—then back at you. “I could ask you the same thing,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Construction mode?”

You looked down briefly. “…Yeah,” you said, adjusting your grip on the helmet. “School project.”

She nodded like that made perfect sense.

“And you?” you asked.

“Just taking a break,” she said, lifting her drink slightly. “Classes.”

Right... You nodded. Of course. Another pause, but this one didn’t feel as awkward as before. Just… quiet. Easy.

“So…” you shifted a little, resting your elbow lightly on the counter. “Did you get back okay last time?”

Sophia smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “You?”

“…Eventually,” you admitted.

She laughed softly. And there it was again, that feeling. Subtle. But there. Like something warm settling in your chest without asking permission. You looked away for a second, pretending to check your drink when it was handed to you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, more to the barista than anything.

—

Outside—Migs squinted through the café window, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “…Oi.”

Chae leaned beside him. “What?”

“…Is that her?”

Karina, who had been scrolling through her phone, looked up. “What are you—”

She followed his gaze and paused. “…Wait.”

Chae’s eyes widened. “WAIT.”

Inside the café was you. Standing there. Talking. Smiling. With her.

“Oh my god,” Karina whispered.

“OH MY GOD,” Chae echoed.

“That’s her,” Migs confirmed.

A beat passed.

“Let’s go.”

“WAIT—”

Too late. The café door opened with a small chime. You barely had time to react.

“HI!” Chae greeted loudly. Way too loud.

You flinched. Oh no. “Guys—” you started, already stepping forward.

They were already in front of Sophia. Of course they were.

“Hi!” Karina smiled, suddenly polite. Suspiciously polite. “We’re her friends.”

Sophia blinked once, then smiled back. “Hi.”

“I’m Charmaine, just Chae is fine hehe,” “Miguel—well, you can call me Migs,” “Karina,” They introduced themselves almost at the same time.

“Nice to meet you,” Sophia said, clearly amused now.

“So,” Migs started, hands on his hips, “you’re the one who helped her?”

You closed your eyes briefly, please stop.

“Yeah,” Sophia nodded.

“Thank you for that,” Chae said. “She gets lost really easily.”

“I do not—” you started.

“She does,” Karina cut in.

Sophia laughed and somehow that made everything worse.

“Are you from here?” Migs asked.

“UP student?” Chae followed.

“What course?” Karina added.

You stepped in immediately.

“Okay, alright, this is enough—”

You grabbed Migs by the arm. “We’re leaving.”

“What?!” he protested.

“Now.” You turned back to Sophia, already pulling them away.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered quickly.

Sophia shook her head slightly, still smiling. “It’s okay.”

You nodded once, then dragged your friends out before they could say anything else.

—

Outside.

“WHAT was that?!” you whisper-shouted.

“That,” Karina said calmly, “was us being friendly.”

“You were smiling again,” Chae added.

“You were literally glowing,” Migs said.

“I was not glowing!”

“You were glowing,” all three said at once.

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

From inside the café, Sophia watched you through the glass, still holding her drink, still smiling a little. She shook her head lightly to herself, then took a sip, but her eyes lingered just a second longer than they should have.

—

Sophia knew something was wrong the moment she opened her door. Her shoes were moved. Not slightly. Completely rearranged.

“…What,” she said flatly, stepping inside.

“Welcome home!” She didn’t even need to look up.

Megan was sprawled across her couch like she paid rent, one leg hanging off the side, scrolling through her phone like she had nothing better to do. Meanwhile, Yoonchae was in the kitchen—her kitchen—opening cabinets like she was on a mission.

“Why are you in my house?” Sophia asked, dropping her bag by the door.

“It’s not a house, it’s a unit,” Megan corrected lazily.

“That’s not the point.”

“Relax,” Yoonchae called out from the kitchen. “We let ourselves in.”

“I can see that.” Sophia stepped further inside, eyes scanning the damage and grimacing.

Cushions are out of place, bag of chips is already open, and a cup—her cup—being used without permission. She closed her eyes for a second. “…You guys are unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” Megan said.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

Yoonchae walked back into the living room, holding a drink she definitely did not ask permission for. “You’ve been weird,” she said bluntly.

“I have not.”

“You have,” Megan added without even looking up. “You’ve been quieter.”

“That’s normal.”

“You don’t even argue back anymore,” Yoonchae said, dropping onto the couch beside Megan.

“…That’s called growth.”

“It’s called suspicious,” Megan replied.

Sophia stared at them, unimpressed. “…Get out.”

“No,” both of them said.

She sighed, walking past them toward the kitchen. “I have work to do.”

“You’ve been ‘doing work’ for three days,” Yoonchae followed her with her eyes. “And yet you still stare at nothing for five minutes straight.”

“I do not stare at nothing.”

“You literally froze while holding your pencil earlier,” Megan added. “We saw you.”

“…You were watching me?”

“That’s not the point,” Megan repeated what Sophia said,

Sophia moved around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring water. Megan flipped through channels. Yoonchae sat cross-legged on the couch.

“You’ve been quiet.”

Sophia didn’t look up. “I get quiet.”

“Not like this,” Megan said.

Sophia shrugged. “Busy.”

“Mm,” Yoonchae hummed. “With what?”

“School.”

Megan glanced at her. “…And?”

Sophia frowned slightly. “And what?”

Yoonchae tilted her head. “That’s it?”

“Yes?”

Silence. Then Megan sat up a little. “Okay, but like—what have you been thinking about?”

Sophia blinked once. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Yoonchae repeated.

“Yeah.”.

Sophia took a sip of water before setting the glass down. “Why are you asking?”

“No reason,” Megan said quickly.

“Just curious,” Yoonchae added.

Sophia narrowed her eyes slightly. “…You’re being weird.”

“We’re not the weird ones,” Megan muttered.

Sophia ignored that, turning slightly away. But the silence didn’t leave, it stayed. Lingering.

“That girl.”

Sophia froze. Just a little, barely noticeable. “…What about her?” she asked, keeping her voice even.

Yoonchae watched her carefully. “You’ve been thinking about her.”

“No, I haven’t.”

Megan raised a brow. “You just paused.”

“I didn’t pause.”

“You did,” Yoonchae said.

Sophia exhaled quietly, grabbing her glass again just to have something to hold. “…I just remembered.”

“Remembered what?” Megan asked.

Sophia opened her mouth and closed it. “…Nothing.”

That was enough. Megan and Yoonchae exchanged a look.

Then Megan leaned forward slightly. “Okay, real talk.”

Sophia didn’t like that tone. “What?”

“…Do you think she looks familiar?” The question was simple. Too simple, but it landed.

Sophia didn’t answer right away, didn’t deny it either. She just stared at the glass in her hand. “…Maybe,” she said finally.

“Maybe?” Yoonchae echoed.

“I don’t know,” Sophia said, a little sharper now. “It’s just a feeling.”

“A feeling,” Megan repeated.

Yoonchae spoke, quieter this time. “What kind of feeling?”

Sophia frowned. “…What do you mean?”

“Like,” Yoonchae shrugged, “does she remind you of someone?”

Sophia looked up. “…No.” Too quick.

Megan caught it immediately. “That was fast.”

“I just said no.”

“You didn’t even think about it,” Megan said.

“I don’t need to.”

“Then why are you overthinking her?” Yoonchae asked softly.

That made her stop. Actually stop. “…I’m not overthinking.”

“You are,” Megan said gently this time, not teasing, just… stating it.

Sophia looked away, her jaw tightened slightly. “…It’s just weird.” There it was, finally.

“Weird how?” Yoonchae asked.

Sophia hesitated. “…Like I’ve seen her before.”

Neither of them spoke, letting it sit.

“Have you?” Megan asked.

Sophia shook her head. “I don’t remember.”

Yoonchae leaned back, thinking. “…What if you just forgot?”

Sophia frowned. “Forgot what?”

“…Something from before.” Megan spoke this time.

Sophia let out a small breath. “That’s vague.”

“Your childhood,” Yoonchae clarified.

Sophia huffed lightly. “I remember my childhood.”

“Do you?” Megan asked.

Sophia looked at her. “Yes.”

Megan held her gaze for a second.

“…Then why does she feel familiar?”

Silence was heavier now. Sophia didn’t answer, she couldn't. Because for the first time, it didn’t feel like a simple question anymore.

“…Ask your mom,” Yoonchae said quietly.

Sophia blinked. “…What?”

“Ask your mom,” Megan repeated. “If there was someone.”

Sophia shook her head. “That’s—”

“Just ask,” Yoonchae said, not pushing, just suggesting.

Sophia looked down at her hands, thinking. “…Fine,” she said eventually. “I’ll ask.”

That evening, the apartment was quiet again. Too quiet, now that they were gone. Sophia stood in the kitchen, phone in hand, staring at the screen like it had personally offended her. “This is stupid,” she muttered, but she dialed anyway.

It rang twice.

“Sophia?” her mom’s voice came through, soft and warm. “Hi, anak.”

“Hi, Ma.”

There was a pause—familiar, comfortable.

“You okay?” her mom asked gently. “You don’t usually call at this hour.”

Sophia leaned against the counter, staring at the floor. “…Yeah. I just wanted to ask something.”

“Hmm?”

She hesitated, then exhaled. Sophia leaned against the counter, eyes unfocused. “…Did we ever know someone… who moved away?”

Her mom didn’t answer immediately. “…Why?” she asked instead.

Sophia hesitated. “I met someone,” she said. “And I don’t know why, but she feels…”

She sighed “…familiar.”

“What’s her name?”

“…Y/N.”

A soft breath on the other end, that slight shift in her mom’s breathing. “You remember her?”

Sophia’s brows furrowed. “…I’m supposed to?”

A soft, almost disbelieving laugh came from the other end. “Oh, Sophia…”

Her grip on the phone tightened slightly. “…Ma?”

“You used to cry for her,” her mom said gently.

Sophia froze. “…What?”

“You were little,” her mom continued. “Six, maybe seven. You two were always together. Every afternoon, I’d find you outside your gate waiting for her.”

The image came slowly. Not clear, but there.

“You didn’t like playing with other kids much, you said they were really mean,” her mom added. “But with her… you were different.”

Sophia stayed quiet, listening to her mother talk.

“You’d share everything,” her mom went on. “Snacks, toys… even that old teddy bear you refused to let anyone touch.”

That made something flicker—a faint image of small hands and the sound of laughter.

“You called each other almost every day,” her mom said. “Even if you were just across the street.”

Sophia pressed her lips together. “…What happened?”

“They moved,” her mom answered softly. “Her family had to leave. It was sudden.”

A pause.

“You didn’t understand it,” she continued. “You kept asking when she’d come back. For weeks.”

Sophia’s chest tightened. “…I don’t remember that.”

“I know,” her mom said gently. “You were too young. But you never really forgot.”

Sophia looked down, fingers tightening slightly around her phone. “…What do you mean?”

Her mom smiled faintly on the other end. “You used to call out for her in your sleep every night without a fail. I thought it'll stop after a few years but until now you still do,” she said.

Sophia’s breath hitched, just a little. “…What?”

They spend the entire night talking about Sophia's childhood and that girl. Each minute that passes—everything becomes clearer to Sophia, slowly—she remembers everything.

—

The past few days had been… strange, not in an obvious way. Everything looked normal on the outside—classes, site work, deadlines, but underneath it, something had shifted.

For Sophia and for you. But neither of you said anything.

—

“Okay, listen,” Migs said, clapping his hands together as your group stood outside the hotel. “Tonight’s the big event.”

“The Lantern Parade,” Chae said, already excited.

“Yeah, yeah,” Migs nodded. “And good news—I know someone from UP.”

Karina raised a brow. “You know someone?”

“Yes,” Migs said proudly. “Connections.”

“Since when?” you asked.

“Since… don’t worry about it,” he waved it off. “Point is, we’re not getting lost tonight.”

“…We weren’t going to get lost,” you muttered.

Migs looked at you. “You got lost on day one.”

“That was different.”

“Mm,” Karina hummed. “Sure.”

Chae grinned. “At least this time someone will guide you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just go.”

At the same time—on the other side of campus.

“Guys, move, we’re going to be late!” Daniela called out, already halfway out the door.

“We’re not even late,” Megan said, walking at a normal pace.

“We will be,” Daniela insisted. “Because we’re meeting someone.”

“Who?” Yoonchae asked.

Daniela grinned. “A friend.”

Manon raised a brow. “Since when do you have mysterious friends?”

“Excuse me, I have many friends.”

“That we don’t know about?” Megan added.

“Exactly.”

Sophia, walking behind them, frowned slightly. “…Who are we meeting?”

Daniela shrugged. “Just someone.”

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Manon muttered.

“…You’re being weird.” Sophia narrowed her eyes just a little.

“I’m always weird,” Daniela said proudly.

Yoonchae leaned toward Sophia. “She’s hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything!”

Sophia didn’t reply. But something about it...felt off. Still, she didn’t push it. “…Fine,” she said. “Let’s just go.”

—

Later that evening. The entrance of the University of the Philippines Diliman was packed. Lights were everywhere. Students walking in groups, laughter mixing with music from somewhere deeper inside the campus. Lanterns glowed in different colors, some already being carried, others displayed along the pathways. It felt alive.

“Okay,” Migs said, looking around. “We’re meeting them here.”

“‘Them’?” Karina repeated.

“My friend,” he corrected.

“Singular?” Chae asked.

“…Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why does that sound like a lie?”

“It’s not a lie,” Migs said quickly.

At the same time—

“Okay, we’re meeting them here,” Daniela said, scanning the crowd.

“‘Them’?” Megan repeated.

“My friend,” Daniela said.

“Singular?” Yoonchae asked.

“…Yes.”

Manon crossed her arms. “That sounds fake.”

“It’s not fake!”

Sophia looked between them. “…Who exactly are we meeting?”

Daniela opened her mouth—then paused. “…You’ll see.”

Sophia frowned, that didn’t help.

Back at the entrance—“Where are they?” Karina asked, looking around.

Migs pulled out his phone. “Relax, they’re here.”

“Who is ‘they’?” you asked again.

Before he could answer—

“Oi!”

Migs turned immediately, his whole face lighting up. “DANIELA!”

You blinked.

Oh.

So that’s the “friend.”

Across from you, a group approached—loud, laughing, already drawing attention without even trying. And right in the middle of them?

Sophia.

Your steps slowed without you meaning to.

At the same time, Sophia looked up. Her eyes landed on you, he paused just for a second. “…Oh.” Not surprised, not confused—just recognition. And maybe something softer underneath.

“Hey,” she said, a small smile forming.

“…Hey,” you replied, a little quieter.

Behind you, Chae immediately leaned into your side. “Oh my god, it’s her again.”

“I know,” Karina whispered back.

“Act normal,” Migs muttered right before waving way too enthusiastically. “Daniela!”

“Hi!” Daniela greeted, already stepping forward and slapping Migs lightly on the arm. “Took you long enough.”

“You’re the one who said ‘on the way’ for twenty minutes,” Migs shot back.

“That’s still on the way!” While the two of them started bickering like it was second nature, Sophia’s friends slowed down, because now they were looking at you.

“…Wait,” Megan said, eyes narrowing slightly.

Yoonchae leaned closer. “Is that-”

“The café girl,” Megan finished.

All four of them turned to Sophia. Slowly... Suspiciously.

“…You didn’t tell us you were meeting her,” Megan said.

Sophia blinked once. “I didn’t know I was.”

“That’s even worse,” Yoonchae muttered.

“Wait... Who is cafe girl?” Lara asked, looking between the three of them.

“Ohhh she didn’t tell you?” Megan looked at her.

“NO?”

Megan and Yoonchae looked at each other with knowing smirks, leaving Lara confused.

“Hey-!”

Daniela, finally noticing the shift, looked between both groups.

“Wait—hold on,” she said, pointing between you and Sophia. “You guys already know each other?”

A small pause.

You and Sophia glanced at each other. “Yeah,” you both said at the same time.

Daniela froze and then gasped. “NO WAY.”

Migs frowned slightly. “Wait, you didn’t tell them?”

“You didn’t tell us,” Manon cut in, looking straight at Sophia now.

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Sophia replied, a bit more composed than everyone else.

“Necessary?” Lara repeated. “You’ve been acting weird for days!”

“I have not—”

“You have,” Megan said.

Meanwhile—Chae nudged you. “Days?” she whispered.

Karina’s eyes widened. “Oh, she was thinking about you.”

“I was not—” Sophia started.

“You definitely were,” Yoonchae said.

You felt your face heat up slightly. “Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath.

“This is insane,” Daniela said, looking way too excited about this. “My two worlds are colliding.”

Migs pointed at her. “YOU could’ve warned me!”

“You could’ve warned me!” she shot back.

“That’s because I didn’t know!”

Manon just shook her head, clearly entertained. “What are the odds?”

No one answered. Because standing there—with the same people, same place, same timing, it didn’t feel random at all.

“Well,” Migs said after a moment, clapping his hands again. “Since we’re all here…”

Daniela grinned. “We hang out together.”

“Obviously,” Chae said.

You glanced at Sophia and she glanced at you. At the same moment with the same hesitation.

“…Yeah,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed.

And just like that, the two groups merged into one.

—

The chaos didn’t die down immediately. If anything, it followed all of you as the group slowly started moving deeper into the University of the Philippines Diliman.

“Explain,” Manon said, walking beside Sophia but looking past her—straight at you.

Well, Yoonchae and Megan finally told her and Lara everything they know.

“There’s nothing to explain,” Sophia replied.

“There is everything to explain,” Lara added.

“You met her twice,” Manon continued. “Twice—and didn’t say anything.”

“It slipped my mind.”

“That doesn’t just slip your mind,” Lara said.

On the other side—Chae leaned toward you. “She didn’t tell them.”

“I can hear you,” Sophia said without looking.

Karina snorted. “Oh, she definitely thought about you then.”

“I did not—”

“You did,” Yoonchae and Megan said at the same time.

“Wow,” Daniela clapped once, walking between both groups. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Focus,” Migs cut in, though he was grinning. “You’re the reason this is happening.”

“And I’d do it again,” Daniela shot back proudly.

“You didn’t even know!” Migs argued.

“Details!”

Manon walked quietly beside them, shaking her head. “You’re both chaotic.”

“Thank you,” both Daniela and Migs said.

Somewhere along the walk, the noise softened. Not completely, but enough. The group spread out naturally, conversations breaking into smaller ones. Laughter still echoed here and there, but it wasn’t as overwhelming anymore. Lights lined the path, lanterns glowing in different colors, casting soft reflections on the pavement. The deeper you went into the campus, the more alive everything felt—music in the distance, students gathering, voices overlapping in the night air.

And without really noticing, you slowed down just a little. Falling a step behind the others. She did too. Not enough to be obvious, but enough. Now you were walking side by side. Not too close, not too far—just right there.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The noise from your friends filled the space instead.

“NO, because you could’ve told me—” “I didn’t know it was her!” “That’s even worse!”

You let out a quiet breath, glancing ahead before speaking. “…Didn’t expect this.”

Sophia gave a small nod, her gaze forward. “Me neither.”

A pause settled between you, comfortable and familiar.

Then you glanced at her. “You knew Daniela?”

She sighed lightly. “Unfortunately.”

“…Same with Migs.” You huffled a laugh that earned a small smile from her.

And there it was again. That feeling, still there. But different now, not as confusing, not as sudden—just present. Like something slowly making sense—but not fully. Not yet.

Up ahead, Daniela and Migs were still arguing. “YOU should’ve told me!” “YOU should’ve told me!” “That’s literally what I just said!” “Exactly!”

Karina groaned. “They’re the same person.” “Please don’t tell them that,” Manon muttered. “Too late,” Chae said. “I’m telling them later.” “Don’t—” both of them said at once. Yoonchae laughed. “I’m recording it if you do.”

You shook your head slightly, a small smile forming despite yourself. Then glanced back at her. She was already looking at you, just for a second—with that look in her eyes that you couldn't explain before looking away.

Above you, the sky darkened fully. Lanterns began to glow brighter, colors reflecting softly against the trees and pavement. The crowd thickened the further you walked, voices blending into something louder, more alive. Something building. You could feel it. That the night wasn’t done yet. Not even close. But for now, you kept walking, side by side, like it had always been that way.

By the time you reached the heart of the University of the Philippines Diliman, the crowd had grown thicker. Voices overlapped, laughter echoed from different directions. Lanterns—huge, intricate, glowing in colors that shifted with every step—were being carried past you, some shaped like animals, others like buildings, stories, ideas brought to life.

“Okay, that one’s insane,” Chae said, pointing at a massive lantern shaped like a moving jeepney. “Imagine building that,” Karina added. “Imagine grading that,” Migs muttered. Daniela laughed. “Automatic pass.” “Deserve,” Yoonchae nodded.

The group slowed down, naturally blending into the crowd. Someone suggested taking photos. Someone else pointed at food stalls nearby. It became messy again, chaotic and familiar. But through all of it you felt… distracted. Not in a bad way, just somewhere else. You stood near one of the lantern displays, your drink half-forgotten in your hand.

“…You okay?”

You blinked. Sophia was beside you again, you hadn’t even noticed when she got there.

“…Yeah,” you said, though it came out softer than you expected. “Just—there’s a lot.”

She nodded slightly, glancing around. “It’s like this every year,” she said. “But it still feels… new.”

You hummed in agreement. Silence followed, not awkward. Just quiet.

“Wait, don’t move!” Karina called out. “Why?” “I’m taking a picture!” “Of what?!” “Of you—just stand there!” “NO—delete that!”

Laughter erupted. But it felt distant, muted. Like you were hearing it from far away. You glanced at Sophia, she was looking ahead, watching the lanterns pass by. The light reflected in her eyes, soft and flickering.

For a moment, your chest tightened. And then—it happened. A memory, it was quick and blurry but there. Rain is falling hard against the concrete, small feet splashing through puddles. Laughter—high, bright, carefree. You blinked and the present snapped back.

“…Weird,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?” Sophia asked, turning slightly.

“…Nothing.” You shook your head lightly. Just your imagination, right?

The group started moving again, this time toward a more open area. The crowd thinned just enough to breathe, lanterns now lining both sides like glowing sentinels. You walked with them, but slower, like your body was keeping up, while your mind stayed behind.

Another memory. This time—clearer. Two small hands holding the same snack. A quiet argument.

“It’s mine!” “No, you said we’d share!” A pause. “…Fine. Half.” A pinky raised. “Promise?” “Promise.”

You stopped walking, just for a second. Your fingers twitched slightly at your side.

“…Y/N?” Chae called from ahead.

“I’m coming,” you said quickly, catching up.

Your heart was beating a little faster now. Beside you Sophia frowned slightly. “…Are you sure you’re okay?”

You let out a small breath. “…Yeah. I just feel like I forgot something.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just watched you for a second longer than usual. “…Yeah,” she said quietly. “…Same.”

The night deepened, lights grew brighter, music got louder. The crowd slowly shifted toward the open field where everyone was starting to gather.

“Fireworks later,” Migs said, looking around. “Midnight.”

“Of course,” Daniela grinned. “Main character moment.” “You are not the main character,” Manon said. “I am tonight.” “No.” “Yes.” “Please stop.”

You barely listened. Because now—the memories weren’t just flashes. They were… forming.

A gate with the paint is slightly chipped. A small girl is standing outside. Waiting, looking toward the street.

“…You’re late,” she said. "I'm not!" “You are.” “I brought snacks.” A pause. “…Okay, you’re forgiven.”

You inhaled sharply. The air felt different, heavier.

“Hey—”

You turned.

Sophia was closer now. Not too close, but closer than before, her brows were slightly furrowed. Like she could see something was happening—even if she didn’t understand it. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

You nodded quickly. Too quickly. “…Yeah.” But your voice wasn’t steady anymore.

The countdown started somewhere in the distance. “Ten minutes!” someone shouted. The crowd shifted again, everyone slowly gathering in one direction. Excitement built, energy was rising. But for you, everything felt like it was slowing down.

Another memory, clearer and closer.

Two kids sitting side by side. One leaning slightly into the other.

“…Don’t go. I know you move a lot, but please don’t ever go away.” “I’m not going.” The girl lifted her head and looked at you. “Even if I did, I’d remember you, and I will come back." Her eyes lit up. “You promise?” “…I promise.”

Pinky fingers locking. Tighter this time, like it meant something more. You stopped walking again. This time, you didn’t move.

“…Y/N?” Karina called but her voice felt far away, like it was distant.

Because now, you were looking at her, at Sophia. And something about her—something in the way she stood, the way she looked at you—felt like it was pulling something out of you. Something you didn’t even know you still had.

“Five minutes!” the crowd shouted.

People cheered. Phones were raised. Lights dimmed slightly around the field. The sky above was dark now, waiting.

Your chest tightened with that same feeling from before—but stronger and warmer. Almost overwhelming. You didn’t look away from her, you couldn’t. And for a second—she didn’t look away either.

“…Do I know you?” You didn’t mean to say it out loud. But it came out anyway, soft, barely even above a whisper. Sophia froze just slightly. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“Ten!”

The countdown began. The crowd roared.

“Nine!”

Your heart pounded.

“Eight!”

Another memory, clear and sharp. The same girl smiling and waving.

“Seven!”

But this time—her face.

“Six!”

It wasn’t blurry anymore.

“Five!”

It wasn’t faceless.

“Four!”

It was—

“Three!”

Her.

“Two!”

Sophia.

“One!”

The sky exploded into light. Fireworks burst overhead, colors scattering across the darkness.

Gold. Red. Blue.

Everything lit up at once. The crowd cheered, it was loud and overwhelming. But you didn’t hear any of it. Because you were staring at her and now, you could finally see her. Not just now, but then, before.

From your dreams. From your memories. From that day.

“…It’s you,” you whispered. Your voice shook slightly.

Sophia didn’t move, she didn’t speak, but her eyes softened, like she had been waiting.

The girl in your dreams. The one who waved at you. The one you couldn’t remember—until now.

She was right in front of you, and she always had been. For a moment, Sophia didn’t speak. She just looked at you, not confused and not surprised. Just… soft. Like she had been waiting for this exact moment.

Then—a small smile, familiar and warm. Like something you have been waiting for. The kind that made your chest tighten for reasons you finally understood.

“Took you long enough,” she said quietly. Your breath caught. That tone. That voice—it felt like something pulled straight out of a memory you didn’t know you still had.

Another firework exploded above you, light spilling across her face, illuminating her eyes as she stepped just a little closer, not enough to close the distance completely, but enough.

“Do you still remember?” she asked softly. "Your promise."

You didn’t answer right away. Because you did. Not everything, not all at once. But enough, enough to know—you were never just imagining her. Your fingers twitched slightly at your side. Then slowly—you lifted your hand, hesitant. Like you weren’t sure if it would still fit.

Sophia looked down at it, then back at you and without a word—she hooked her pinky around yours. Just like before. Like no time had passed at all.

Your breath hitched. A quiet laugh almost escaped you. “…You remember that?” you murmured.

She tilted her head slightly. “I never forgot.” That—that did something to you. Something warm, something that settled deep in your chest.

Above you, the fireworks continued to bloom across the sky, louder now, brighter, filling every space with light—but somehow, it all felt quieter. Like the world had softened around the two of you.

You looked at her, like really looked at her. Not as a stranger. Not as someone new. But as someone you had been searching for—without even knowing. And somehow—she had been searching too. Neither of you said anything after that. You didn’t need to.

the visual

𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 : ᴍᴀɴᴏɴ ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀᴍᴀɴ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚁𝙴 : ᴀɴɢsᴛ 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 : ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴇ-ᴅ , ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ?, ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, ʜᴜʀᴛ, sᴇʟғ-ʜᴀʀᴍ 𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶 : ʙᴜғғᴀʟᴏ 𝟼𝟼 - ɴᴇssᴀ ʙᴀʀʀᴇᴛᴛ A/N - shit about to go down gang ...(Im so sorry for this) ⚠𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳!⚠

The first time Manon said she’d change, it felt like a promise carved into stone. Not words—never just words. It was the way her voice softened, the way her fingers brushed yours like she was afraid you’d disappear, the way her stormy eyes held yours just long enough to make you believe her. “I mean it this time, Y/N.” You believed her. You always did.

It didn’t start with the fights. It started with laughter, with late nights where the world narrowed down to just you and her, with whispers pressed to your skin that made your heart race like it was trying to escape. Manon Bannerman didn’t walk into rooms—she owned them. And somehow, impossibly, she chose you. “You look at me like I’m something good,” she said once, tracing shapes into your arm. “You are something good,” you replied, and she smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. That should’ve been your first clue.

The first fight wasn’t even a fight. You waited two hours outside a café. Your phone dead. Your coffee cold. When she finally appeared, she didn’t apologize. “You’re overreacting,” she said, shrugging. “I got busy.” “I thought something happened,” you murmured. “Yeah. Something did. I have a life, Y/N.” It stung. Then she sighed, ran her hand through her hair, softened. “Don’t look like that.” “Like what?” “Like I hurt you.” Her thumb brushed your lip. “I’d never hurt you.” You whispered, “I’m sorry.” She smiled. That should’ve been your second clue.

The cycle built itself slowly, like erosion. Good days were too bright, too unreal. She pulled you into her world, kissed you in crowded rooms, whispered promises. “You’re mine,” she murmured, and you felt chosen, safe, special. The bad days came like storms without warning. Cold silences. Sharp words. Eyes that looked through you. “You’re so sensitive,” she snapped. “Why do you always make things a problem?” “I can’t breathe around you sometimes.” Each word cut, carved something fragile inside you. And then, always, she came back. “I didn’t mean it,” she whispered. “You know I get like that.” You nodded. “I’ll change. I swear, Y/N. I’ll be better.” You believed her. You always did.

Somewhere along the way, you stopped speaking. Not by choice. By survival. Every time you said, “That hurt me,” it turned into an argument. Suddenly, you were the problem. “You’re twisting things.” “You’re making me feel like a bad person.” “Do you even trust me?” You did. That was the worst. So you swallowed your words, held them until they became heavy enough to crush you from the inside.

You started disappearing. At first, it was small. Forgetting meals, letting texts go unanswered, pretending nothing had happened. Then it became deliberate. You didn’t eat to punish yourself—though maybe you did—but to prove something. To yourself. If you couldn’t speak the pain, maybe you could show it. Maybe if it hurt enough, it would feel real. Worthy. “If it hurts, maybe it means something,” you whispered to your reflection. No one heard. Not even her.

She noticed. She always did. “You’ve lost weight,” she said one night, hand on your waist, voice casual but sharp underneath. At first, you began to think that was positive. You shrugged. “Just not hungry.” “That’s not healthy.” The irony almost made you laugh. “I’m fine.” She studied you, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. “Don’t shut me out.” “I’m not—” “You are. Acting like everything’s okay when it’s not.” Your chest tightened. Because of you, you wanted to scream. But words were trapped. Instead, you whispered, “I just don’t want to fight.” Her expression softened. “I don’t want to fight either. Come here.” And of course, you went.

Loving Manon felt like standing too close to fire. You knew it could burn you. It did. But the warmth… you craved it anyway.

The question came late at night. Quiet. When the world disappeared except for the sound of your own heartbeat. You’d stare at the ceiling, chest hollow, body shrinking from neglect, and whisper to yourself: Why am I in love with the one holding the gun? The words reverberated like a confession. Dangerous, truthful. She was holding something powerful over you, and you let her.

The fights became sharper. More frequent. Apologies less convincing. “I said I’m sorry. What else do you want from me?” she snapped. “I just want you to understand,” you whispered. “I do understand. You’re never satisfied.” “That’s not—” “God, Y/N. Why do you make everything so hard?” Each sentence drove you deeper inside yourself. “I’m not trying to,” you murmured. “Well, you are.” Silence. And then, predictably, she pulled you close. “I didn’t mean that. You know I love you.” You nodded, hollowly, swallowing everything else.

You were disappearing, smiling when you didn’t want to, saying “I’m fine” until it became automatic. The ache in your stomach mirrored the ache in your chest, the hollow weight that no one could see. Until one night, it cracked. No shouting. No glass breaking. Just you, on the floor, plate untouched, body trembling. She watched from the doorway. “You didn’t eat again,” she said. You avoided her eyes. “I’m not hungry.” “You keep saying that.” “Because it’s true.” She stepped closer, frustration thinly veiled. “Stop lying to me.” Something snapped. “I’m not lying!” Your voice shook. She froze. “What’s going on?” “I just… I don’t feel okay.” “Then talk to me.” Bitter laugh escaped your throat. “Every time I try, it turns into a fight.” “That’s not fair.” “No, what’s not fair is how you—” Your breath hitched. “How you make me feel like everything is my fault.” The words hung. Heavy. Dangerous. “That’s not true.” “It is.” “You’re twisting things.” “That’s exactly what I mean.” Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

“I can’t do this right now,” she muttered, turning away. “Of course you can’t,” you whispered. “You never can.” She stopped. Didn’t turn. “Don’t start,” she warned. “I’m not starting. I’m finally saying it. I’m tired. I’m so tired, Manon.” Her eyes faltered. “Then maybe you should stop making things harder than they need to be.” Gunshot words. Everything clicked. The silence, the hunger, the pain you couldn’t explain—you’d been trying to prove something. To her. To yourself. That your suffering mattered. That you were worthy. She wouldn’t change. Not for you. Not in the way you needed. And loving her… it was destroying you.

She stepped closer. “Come here.” And for a heartbeat, you almost did. Because that’s who you’d become—someone who stayed, forgave, loved more than she loved herself. But then you looked at her, really looked, and saw the cycle, the pattern, the promise that would never hold. “I can’t,” you said, stepping back. Her hand fell mid-air. “What do you mean?” “I can’t keep doing this. I’m choosing myself.” Heavy, foreign, but right. “You’re overreacting,” she snapped. You almost smiled. “It is to me.” And that was enough.

Walking away didn’t feel like relief. It felt like grief, tearing out something you had rooted too deep. But beneath it, fragile hope. For the first time, you weren’t proving your suffering. You weren’t trying to earn love. You were choosing to stop hurting. That night, lying alone, silence felt different. Heavy, but not suffocating. ༺♰༻

You thought leaving would make it easier. That walking away from Manon Bannerman would make the nights quieter, the ache lighter. But it didn’t. Hunger had become a constant pulse beneath your skin, a gnawing reminder that you hadn’t mattered enough to be held properly. You tried to fill the void with distractions—books, errands, small routines—but the world kept pressing in, air heavy like wet cloth, people’s words clanging in your head. Every step felt like a weight dragging you further down. Every breath felt borrowed.

And then, inevitably, you found yourself back at her door. You told yourself it was hope. Comfort. The memory of her fingers tracing your spine, of her voice soft in the dark, whispering that everything would be fine. You were so desperate for warmth, for reprieve, that you ignored the warnings screaming inside your head.

She was there. Of course she was. Like she had always been. The chaos, the magnetism, the storm wrapped in skin that felt like fire when it touched yours. You thought, maybe if you leaned into her, she’d hold you. Maybe she’d notice how fragile you had become. Maybe this time, things would be different.

They weren’t.

“Y/N,” she said, not even looking up from her phone, “you look… smaller.” Her voice carried no concern, only curiosity, like you were some delicate object she might accidentally crush if she cared too much. You laughed quietly, because it had become absurdly normal for you to feel invisible to the person you craved most.

“I… I thought… maybe…” You trailed off. Words failed under her gaze. She shrugged, a casual, careless motion.

“Maybe what?”

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, and it sounded like nothing at all.

The room felt too small. The walls pressed inward, the air thick and unyielding. Your head throbbed, a constant ringing that wouldn’t stop. The errands of life—the traffic, the people, the conversations—were suffocating, relentless, pressing into your chest until it ached to breathe. Every sound, every word, every flicker of light was too much. Your body trembled without warning.

And then the blade was there. Cold, heavy in your palm. You didn’t think. You just acted. A line across your wrist. A single, clean slice. The sharp pain ripped through you, and for a moment, the ringing eased, replaced by the slow, warm comfort of blood. It ran down your skin like a small, cruel kind of solace. Finally, something felt like escape. Finally, something felt like… you.

Manon glanced up, startled, but not in a way that softened her. Not in a way that held you. Her eyes flicked briefly to the blood, then away, uninterested.

“Y/N,” she said, the word flat, casual, almost bored. Not alarmed. Not frightened. Not gentle. Not the way you had imagined when you came back hoping to be held, soothed, seen.

You stared at her, heart pounding harder than ever, disbelief and desperation colliding. You had come back to her for comfort, and she offered nothing but indifference. The betrayal sliced deeper than the knife ever could.

The ringing in your ears intensified. Suffocating stress. Suffocating errands. Suffocating words. Every sound echoed, bouncing inside your skull. You were drowning in the ordinary, in the unbearable, in the absence of someone who was supposed to make it stop.

You fell back onto the floor, the blade slick in your hand, your wrist still warm and red, your chest heaving. The thought that had never left you whispered louder than ever: Why am I in love with the one holding the gun?

Because she held power over you. Over your body. Over your mind. Over the part of you that ached for comfort, that wanted to be seen, that craved warmth and safety. And you let her, because it was all you had ever known. Because leaving didn’t make the ache stop. Because the only relief you could feel came in ways that were dangerous, sharp, burning.

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, indifferent. “I don’t get why you do this to yourself,” she muttered. Not anger. Not fear. Not care. Just words, sharp like glass, cutting through the fragile thread of your existence.

You wanted her to reach for you. Wanted her to tell you you mattered. Wanted her to stop the chaos inside your skull. Wanted her to save you.

But she didn’t.

And that realization hit harder than anything else ever could.

You weren’t going to be saved.

You were alone.

And the only thing that understood, the only thing that ever had, was the warmth of blood spilling across your skin. The relief of pain that didn’t judge, that didn’t demand, that didn’t disappoint. It didn't matter if you were hurt, you wanted to be seen, that thought hit harder then any other. It wasn't about how bad it hurt, it wasn't about how skinny you made yourself, you could feel your ribs rubbing against you in a way that suffocated you. ༺♰༻

You had tried leaving. Tried convincing yourself that walking away from Manon Bannerman would make the ache lighter. But leaving didn’t stop the hunger gnawing at your stomach, didn’t quiet the ringing in your ears, didn’t stop the constant press of life crushing down on you. You thought you could find comfort in her again, that maybe if you leaned into her chaos, she’d hold you this time. You were desperate enough to believe it.

She was there, the storm you loved and feared. Her voice was casual, indifferent: “Y/N, you look… smaller.” You laughed quietly, a bitter, hollow sound. You had come back hoping she’d notice, hoping she’d care, hoping she’d stop the suffocating noise of your own mind and let you exist in her warmth. But she didn’t.

The air in your apartment felt too thick, too close. The ringing in your ears became unbearable. Every errand, every word from strangers, every fleeting noise pressed into your skull like a vice. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe.

The blade was in your hand before you realized it. A line across your wrist, shallow at first, then deeper. Warmth spilled over your skin, an almost cruel relief. Blood looked like comfort, like something real in a world that had long stopped feeling tangible. You pressed your forehead against your knees, eyes closed, letting the pulse of pain wash over you.

Manon glanced up, startled but not soft, not gentle, not holding. “Y/N,” she said flatly, “why do you do this to yourself?” Nothing more. No hands reaching, no eyes softening. Just words that cut sharper than the knife.

You wanted her to save you, wanted her to hold you, wanted her to stop the chaos in your chest—but she didn’t. She never did.

Later, alone, weak from hunger and blood loss, you felt yourself fading. The apartment was quiet except for your labored breathing. You climbed to the roof of a building, the city lights blurred through your tears. The edge called to you, quiet and absolute. One step forward, a heartbeat, and everything went black.

Manon felt it before the news reached her, a hollow weight she couldn’t shake. Meetings became unbearable, her friends noticed her absence, but she couldn’t explain why the world felt sharp and wrong. Then the call came.

She arrived at the cemetery in the gray light, the grass soft beneath her knees as she reached your grave. She touched the headstone, fingers trembling,tracing over the soft ridges of the carved in name in the middle of the gravstone. Sudden guilt poured over her in waves she couldn’t escape. She should have listened. She should have held her instead of holding power over her.

Her chest ached with regret. Every apology she had ever whispered, every promise she had made, every “I’ll change, I swear” echoed hollowly in her mind. Too late. Too late.

Manon stayed there long after the sky darkened, just the two of them: her and the memory of the one she had hurt most. She had lost the person who had believed in her even when she didn’t deserve it.

She should have put the gun down.