#binukot

BULAN by Charis Loke 5.5 x 9.5” Ink and pastel on Fabriano Rosaspina paper, digital charisloke.com

“Seven moons once lit the lands, so wondrous they woke earth-shaker in the deep; six moons our people sought in vain to keep. But my moon is not that which hangs in the sky, last of its kind, gleaming alone; my moon is radiant: wielding her sword, she is why we slay the bakunawa, my moon and I.”

            The Philippines has an ancient tradition that mystifies even the younger generation. It seemed unreal and mysterious, like a story straight out of a fantasy book. Princesses only exist in books, or is that true? This is the story of how Adolfo met Annga, the last Binukot.

            Adolfo Nikolas is often found in the library. If he is not in the town library, then he is probably inside the school library, even on weekends. He came from a wealthy family. He is the only successor to their family’s hotels. However, Adolfo’s heart isn’t set on being a businessman. He wants to be an anthropologist. He enjoys reading history books. This is the reason why the school guard often needed to remind him of the closing time. He can focus on reading a thick history book for a long time. He is very interested in the cultures of different native tribes in the Philippines.

            One night, he dreamed of a shining book under one of the shelves of their town library. When he woke up, he immediately shrugged it off and thought of it as a meaningless dream. The next night, he once again dreamed of a shining book, floating in what seemed like an endless river. The third night, he dreamed of the same book, but this time it was under his bed, shining like gold. Still, Adolfo thought that it was only the result of his obsession with books. He thinks of books before he sleeps; that must have been the reason for his dreams. The fourth night, he dreams of his pet cat angrily shoving him the shining book. He woke up, only to find his cat staring at him without even blinking. He shook the weird feeling off and went to school to attend his morning classes. While at school, he decided to tell his friends about this frequent dream.

            "Oh, Adolfo. That is because all you talk about is books, all you want to face is books, and all you think of is your history books," said one of his close friends.

            "Today, I won’t read a book. Let's see if something will change," he replied.

The night came, and Adolfo prepared to go to sleep early. He immediately dozed off and fell into a deep sleep. He dreams once again of a shining book. That night, it grew legs and arms, and it chased him until he fell into an endless pit. When he woke up, he was catching his breath like he had run a mile. On that day, he decided to go to the town library and look for the book that he had been dreaming of for five nights.

When he arrived, the library already had a few people in it. Determined to look for the book or anything that was similar to its gold cover and pages, he went and looked everywhere that he could find. After searching for hours, all he saw were regular books; none of those had a gold cover or gold pages. Tired, he sat on the floor and leaned on one of the shelves. He looked at his watch and found out that it was already 4 in the afternoon. He sighed and was about to grab any book that he could reach when his fingers felt something hard under the shelves. A memory flashed in his mind, and he remembered that in his first dream, the shining book was under a shelf. In that dream, all the other books are emitting a faint white light, but the book under the shelf shines like the afternoon sun. It was noticeable and blinding. He grabbed whatever was under the shelf and dusted it off. He smiled in delight when he saw that the book’s cover was gold. He examined it further and saw that the pages were almost brown, and some were torn due to its oldness. Even though the book is old, the words are still readable. He read the cover, and it said, "The Last Binukot."

Adolfo knows a lot about the practices and traditions of the native cultures in the Philippines. He knows what a Binukot is. It is a Visayan word that means "wrapped up," which simply describes their practice and tradition. A Binukot is considered a princess of the tribe who is highly respected and protected so that not even the sun shall see her skin or any strand of her hair. Legends say that a Binukot is the most beautiful maiden in the tribe. Some say that she is covered with cloth whenever she goes out because the sun might get jealous of her radiance, and her feet must never step on the soil because the earth might kiss her and never let go. The last recorded Binukot was dead a long time ago. Tribes have learned their lessons and they never once again made another maiden their Binukot. Adolfo wondered if the book was a documentary.

            He opened the book and was immediately welcomed by a blinding light. He covered his eyes, let go of the book, and fumbled a few steps back. It all happened too fast. He felt a pull, a splash, and everything went dark.

When he opened his eyes, he was welcomed by a fish swimming right in front of him. He took a deep breath but was only choked by a mouthful of water. His eyes widen, and he feels himself turning blue due to the lack of air. He swam upwards and felt relief when he saw that he was not yet deep into the water. He coughed and coughed until he could finally breathe. He gasped and inhaled deeply. When Adolfo finally regained himself, he looked around and realized that he was floating in what seemed like a river. There is an unfamiliar two-story nipa house nearby. He could hear a rooster crowing in the distance, someone cutting wood with an axe, a group of women laughing, and someone singing in a language he did not understand. He swam near the house and lay on the grass. He looked at the sky and saw many birds flying.

            Adolfo was taken aback. He doesn’t know what he is doing in there. He remembered opening the book. He also remembered the light that felt like pulling him. Just as Adolfo fell into a deep thought, a woman suddenly arrived. The woman shrieked at the sight of a man soaked in water, unmoving. He immediately rose and looked at the panicking owner of the voice.

"I’m sorry! I don’t know how I came here. Please don’t be mad!” Adolfo said, also panicking, thinking that the woman was mad because he trespassed on their home. The voice suddenly went silent.

"I thought you were dead!" The woman exclaimed. Another man arrived wearing only a cloth wrapped around his waist and a bandana. He is holding a bolo, almost ready to defend the woman.

            “Put it down, Bagani!” The man named Bagani put his bolo down and looked at Adolfo from head to toe. He points at his body.

            Adolfo looked down at his body and stared at his blue polo and black slacks. His rubber shoes are unrecognizable due to the dirt and grass that have been sticking to them. Aside from his unkept appearance, he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he is wearing. What he finds weird are the people in front of him. They are wearing bahag and malong, the traditional clothes that are worn by native Filipinos. What he finds weird isn’t their clothing, but he wonders what happened when he was unconscious to arrive in a tribe.

            "You’re from the city? What are you doing in here?" Bagani asked.

"I don’t know how I exactly came here. I just remember being inside the library," Adolfo replied.

            "You must be lost, then. Come here, let’s go inside. You might get sick if you don’t change immediately." The woman ushered him inside their home. When they entered the wooden gate, a rooster once again cawed. The voices of women laughing and singing became clearer and clearer. Adolfo looked around and noticed that the house looked majestic. He has never seen a bahay kubo up-close. His eyes went to the group of women and men. The men who are cutting wood are all wearing bahag, while the women are all wearing a blouse and a malong.

The woman ushering Adolfo spoke and said, "Bulan, please give our visitor some clothes. Help him change too." The little boy named Bulan diverted his attention from the old man cutting wood. His curious little eyes stared at Adolfo, who, by that time, was still roaming his eyes around the place.

            "Who is he, Inang Agwa?" When the little boy spoke, Adolfo looked at him and smiled.

"I am Adolfo, and you must be Bulan?" The little boy nodded.

            "Inang Agwa saw him on the lake." Bagani explained to the curious men and women. They all nodded in understanding, but then two of them approached and stared at Adolfo’s face.

The two of them shared a look and approached Inang Agwa.

"He looked like a Japanese. Don’t you agree, Donato?" The man named Donato nodded.

            "Should we really let him in, Inang Agwa? Himig is right. Even to me, he looks like a Japanese. If he is a spy and has already alerted his fellowmen, then we are already in danger!"

            Adolfo was shocked by their conversation. Why are they careful with the Japanese? Are there tourists nearby? Adolfo shook his head and said, "I am not Japanese. I am a Filipino, too. I came from the city, but I do not know how I arrived here. I also don’t know how to go back."

The woman, whom they are referring to as Inang Agwa, smiled and shook her head. She signaled Bulan to assist Adolfo inside their home. He immediately followed Bulan when he started walking. As they walk nearer and nearer to the door, Adolfo heard Inang Agwa speak.

"Donato, we must help everyone who is seeking help. Bathala is happy when we are kind, didn’t I teach that to you? The Binukot would also suggest that you do the same. Don’t you think so?"

Adolfo was given a bahag to wear and a cloth to wrap around his waist. Bulan also gave him a cloth for his upper body. The room that he changed into is spacious. There is only a curtain that separates the outside from the inside. There is also a basin made from hardened clay. When he finished changing, he debated whether to ask the child what had been bothering him. In the end, he walked beside the little boy and squatted beside him to match his height.

"Can you tell me what year it is now?" The little boy looked at him like he is saying something that is funny. He then diverted his eyes and stared at the wooden wall for a long time before putting his hand under his chin. The boy hummed before looking at Adolfo.

"It is year 1902, why?"

Adolfo quickly adjusted to their way of life. He often helps with their chores. He sometimes volunteers to harvest fruits or to cut wood. Days flew by fast, and without so much as a wink, a month has already passed. The people are kind; only Donato and Himig remained distant from him. He did not mind it and waited for them to adjust and open up. After all, Adolfo does not know when he will go back to the present, or if he will ever go back.

After a month of thinking about the reason why he time-traveled in the past, he realized that the book wanted to show him something. Until he realizes what it is, he can’t go back. After all, he learned to love the place and the tribe men’s way of living.

            "Adolfo, please help us carry the Binukot." Adolfo immediately went down from the tree and went to Bagani. Once a week, they carry the Binukot so she can visit her parents’ tombs. It is Adolfo’s weekly routine to wait by the lowest stair while the Binukot talk to her parents at the top. When Adolfo and Bagani went inside her room, she was already covered with a white cloth and was riding her hammock. None of her skin or hair is to be seen by any men, not until she becomes a Nabukot or a married Binukot. Adolfo is familiar with this practice. He has read it on history books.

Adolfo has no idea what the Binukot looks like. He has never heard of her voice. He was advised to stay away from her room, so he followed it out of respect for the tribe’s culture. However, he knows that he is the youngest daughter of the deceased Datu Dakila and his wife, Inang Biyaya. He has heard from hearsay that the Binukot sometimes sings and dances on special occasions and that her beauty could blind any man who sees her. Adolfo wishes to see her sing or dance. He wondered if the Binukot sang love songs.

One night, while Adolfo was taking his walk in a garden, he suddenly heard a voice chanting. The voice was so clear and melodious. The chant expressed many emotions. One time it was happy, and then there was agony. Adolfo got goosebumps all over his body. He has never heard such a wonderful voice in his life. His desire to know who the mysterious lady was, got the best of him. He went nearer and nearer to the river. There, he saw a maiden soaking her feet in the river. a maiden so beautiful, he could only stare in silence. This time, Adolfo, who loves words, thought that it would be a sin to only describe the maiden in the language he knows. He turned around and was about to walk away when he heard the voice address him.

            "Adolfo? What are you doing in here?"

            The woman knows him! He swallowed and braved himself to ask, "May I know who I am speaking to?" The maiden only stared at him. Adolfo remains rooted in his place. He stared back.

            "I am Annga. I am part of the tribe." The maiden replied.

            "This is my first time seeing you. How did you know me?"

This time, she averted her eyes and once again looked at her reflection in the river. There was silence, and Adolfo patiently waited.

            "I know you through my people’s words. I also know your voice. I know your face." Adolfo only stared at the maiden.

            "Have I met you before?" He asked.

            "Yes. Multiple times. I understand if you don’t remember me. Most people do not."

            Adolfo leaned on the tree. That night, they talked about the river, the stars, and the tribe’s history. He never attempted to go nearer; both of them are content with their distance.

One day, an Umalohokan, or the tribe’s crier, announced the marriage of the couple, Alon and Mahalina. Everybody rejoiced and prepared for a great feast. Adolfo was even roped into catching pigs in their wide backyard. Some prepared the dishes. Some sew the clothes for the couple. Some practiced their dances and chants. It was a lovely sight.

            On the day of the marriage, Adolfo was shocked when he was asked to carry the Binukot. He did not expect the Binukot to attend the marriage. Together with Bagani and other men of the tribe, they carried the Binukot in her hammock. not letting even, the tiniest ray of the sun to see her skin. Adolfo heard that the Binukot will sing and dance. He feels nothing but excitement.

  After the marriage ritual, everyone shared all the dishes they had prepared. There is delight in everyone’s face as they celebrate a union that was blessed by Bathala. After the feast, Adolfo’s most anticipated moment has finally arrived. It is now time for the Binukot’s performance. All of the people, dressed in their adorned attires, gathered and formed a big circle. All men, women, and children are present and are eager for the Binukot’s performance. 

The performance started with the roll of the gongs called kulintang, followed by the strumming of the kutiyapi, a stringed instrument. The sound is full of beats and chants from the older women of the tribe. A figure of a woman appeared from behind the curtains. Her face was covered with a dark veil. She wears an ankle-length skirt and a long-sleeved blouse; she wears a waistband and a headdress of Spanish coins. One can only see her fair ankle and long candle-like fingers. She danced like an eagle in the vast sky, free and light. Adolfo watched with amazement.

Afterwards, the Binukot rested. Adolfo and Bagani fixed her hammock.

"Will the Binukot sing today?" Adolfo asked Bagani.

"Yes, she will sing as she swings her hammock. It is to remember how our ancestors used to travel in a balangay back in the day. Isn’t today your first time witnessing it? Brace yourself because it will take hours to finish."

Adolfo braced himself as he was told.

The Binukot started her epic song. The voice was full of intensity and story. It was both calming and revolting. When Adolfo heard the Binukot’s song, he was taken aback. By then, he found out that Annga, the maiden he met that one faithful night, was none other than the treasured Binukot. Adolfo wanted to talk to her, but he wondered if he would ever have another chance to do so.

The two of them met again after Adolfo waited for seven nights in the place where they first met. When he saw that Binukot’s face was exposed and that her bare feet were stepping on the soil, he immediately went near her. Adolfo wasn’t sure on what to do. He can’t touch the Binukot; even looking at her guarantees death to whoever dares to do so. He kneeled in front of the Binukot and said his apology.

“Stand up, Adolfo. It is just me." She softly said. Her voice sounded so still.

"How can I do that? You should behead me. I have committed a crime." Adolfo said in a voice full of regret.

"Kneel if you must, but I need you to listen, Adolfo. I have held the title of Binukot since I was four. I was loved and protected by my people. My palms are soft because I never did anything more than weave. My feet are weak because they never let me walk on my own. They bathe me, comb my hair, and put food on my plate. One might say I have lived a perfect life, a life that every woman in my tribe is envious of.  But I do not want this." The Binukot stopped speaking for a while. Adolfo remained kneeling. His eyes were glued at her bare feet.

"When Datu Dakila and Inang Biyaya died at the hands of the Japanese right in front of me, I couldn’t do anything. It was the first time I realized my desire for freedom and power. Once, I secretly stepped my foot on the ground, and I have never felt connected with the earth. I loved how rough the earth felt on my feet. I then attempted to walk with a bare foot, and when I did, I tasted freedom. I never forgot that feeling, Adolfo. Every night, it haunts me in my sleep, begging me to reach it. Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever felt so suffocated when air is abundant? All of these, for marriage?" The Binukot laid her hands-on Adolfo’s shoulders. She helped him stand, and when they were finally looking into each other’s eyes, she smiled.

"I am more than the marriage they are trying to push into me, Adolfo. I am not as extraordinary as they think I am. What I want isn’t beauty and a spouse, what I need is strength so I can stand on my own two feet. I cannot do that when all I do was to sit and be protected. I cannot do that when I can’t even run for a long time because of my week feet. I need to be able to fight for myself. Do you understand me?" Adolfo nodded and stared into her eyes. It held the intensity of the most powerful storm. Like a bird finally realizing that there is life outside of its cage. Adolfo couldn’t help but be immersed in her magnificence.

            "Let me protect you, then," he said. “Until you now know how to fight. Let me be with you when you escape. Let me be with you each night you come here. Let me be the cane you hold on to as you grow your wings. Let me be your legs." Annga nodded. The moonlight reflected on her gold skin.

Their eyes locked, and both of them shared a meaningful smile. That night, they shared a connection neither of them could describe.

The next few days became much different for the both of them. Every night, they met in the same exact spot. They would talk beside each other for hours. Adolfo enjoys listening to her. He asks a lot of questions just to make her talk. He asks her about her dreams, and she asks him about the city. By then, both of them realized that they had feelings for each other. However, just as when Adolfo decided to confess his feelings, something unfortunate happened.

            "Go take the Binukot somewhere safe! The Japanese are coming!" He was shocked when, one night, as he was walking to the place where he and Annga usually met, he encountered a bloodied Donato. Panicking, he tried to offer help, but Donato refused.

            "The Binukot is our priority. Keep her safe! The Japanese are here to get her." Adolfo nodded. With a worried face, he ran and went to the place where they were supposed to meet. He ran as fast as he could, desperate to see Annga, safe and sound. When he heard the familiar sound of clicking coins and saw the familiar fair figure of a woman, he stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. He sighed in relief. Annga stood there, looking in the distance with a terrified face. Adolfo followed her line of sight and was met with a large fire slowly engulfing the houses in the distance. His heart broke when he realized that one of the houses that are burning is the house of the newlyweds, Alon and Mahalina.

            "Annga!" He shouted. Annga looked at him, and when he saw him, a sob escaped out of her mouth. In the distance, the hooves of the horses and the sound of gunshots can be heard. People are screaming in agony and helplessness.

            "I am here, Annga!"

Adolfo ran to hug her and comfort her. Annga’s body weakened but she remained standing. Just as Annga opened her arms to welcome his embrace, a blinding flash of light engulfed him. Adolfo’s eye widened when he felt the familiar pull. He wiggled and tried to reach Annga, but the light pulled them apart. Annga, not knowing what was happening, reached for him. Desperate, he extends his arms as far as he can. Just as when he finally held her hand, a group of Japanese seized her and covered her face with a cloth. Adolfo cried as Annga screamed. There was a light, and everything went dark.

            When Adolfo woke up, he was once again in the library. Baffled, he stood up and immediately stumbled because of a headache. He clutched his head, and it took him time to stop the dizziness. He looked at his watch, and found out that it was five in the afternoon. When he regained his stability, he immediately noticed the open book on the floor. He picked it up and read the pages. He spent the next hour reading the whole book.

He was shocked when he found out that the book narrated the story of how a mysterious man met the rebellious Binukot of the Panay tribe. It is a story of how him and Angga’s love story ended before it even began. The story narrated his life in the year 1902, from the time he almost drowned on the river to his mysterious disappearance when the Binukot was captured. Unfortunately, the book ended without him knowing what happened after. He felt an ominous feeling boiling up. He stood there unmoving, trying to think of ways to find out what happened to Annga.

Adolfo is desperate to know what happened after he left. He doesn’t know whether to feel relief or sadness. A part of him is afraid to know what happened after he was forcedly transported into the present. He feels fear, agony, and yearning. He wants to go back and protect Annga because he loves her, and that’s what he promised her.

He stared at the book he was holding in disbelief. What magic does the book hold? And why did it choose him, of all people? He skimmed the pages once again to find any clues. He stopped when a piece of paper fell. It is an old news article from the Manila Bulletin. Right, he thought, the Manila Bulletin was founded in the year 1900. It was about this time that they started publishing newspapers.

Adolfo took his time reading the article. As he read, the light in his eyes gradually faded. He slumped on the shelves and took a deep, shaky breath. He gulped the scream that was threatening to go out. He clutched his chest and took another breath. He can almost feel hysteria binding his body, making him paralyzed with both fear and pain. He crumpled the piece of paper. He did not feel his tears flow on his cheeks, but he felt the rage boiling inside of him.

For the last time, he read the article.

"...a body…found on the chieftain’s home, laid on a hammock...along with a heap of dead bodies."

Journal #1

Studying and learning about our history brings a lot of lessons from the past that can help create a better future for us. It is the mainstay of our present selves. We cannot shape our society for the future unless we have historical evidence. That is why history has great significance for the modern world and especially for the people.

As we had our discussion from last week's topic, we were able to learn about the different sources that helped historians identify the truths and stories of the past. Primary and secondary sources are the linking bridges to why we are able to understand our past.

Primary sources are direct, first-person accounts of a subject from individuals who had a close relationship with it. Diaries, letters, autobiographies, memoirs, pictures, artistic works, financial records, notes, and newspaper stories are some examples of the records that were produced by the witnesses or initial recorders of these events at or around the time they occurred. These sources are used as evidence by historians to interpret and analyze how historical figures internalized their experiences, their place in history, and their significance.

As for the secondary sources, they often assemble the chronology, events, or experiences of something that happened in history. It interprets and analyzes primary materials written by people who were not present during or directly affected by the historical era, event, or subject under consideration. Secondary sources are written about history by historians. Examples include textbooks, articles, and reference books.

As we were able to connect these two different sources, we learned the history of Binukot. It is a Filipino culture that involves isolating a young person (all reports include a young woman) in the hopes that future prospective spouses will respect the person more as a result of the isolation. The pre-Hispanic Philippines is where the custom first appeared and is still being used today. The Panay Bukidnon people, who hide women from the public view beginning in childhood, have most recently used it. Instead of doing heavy work, their duty is to learn, understand, and memorize their history. This makes the Binukot excellent epic chanters and repositories of their history, making them a primary and secondary source at the same time.

I was amazed that this practice still exists even to this day. Knowing for how many generations that we were colonized by the Spanish people really shows that our Indigenous tribe values the importance of our history.

I learned from this topic that sources are our way to the past. We may gain a thorough picture of previous events from the perspectives of the individuals who experienced them. It is important to know our sources, especially nowadays. By basing our actions on truth and facts, we can fight against fake news and disinformation.

References

Clark, J. (2017, December 8). BINUKOT: Women secluded and veiled in Philippine history. THE ASWANG PROJECT.

SHORT ORIGINAL STORY. FILIPINO and AMERICAN CHARACTERS. WRITTEN IN ENGLISH. WRITTEN SOMETIME IN 2020 AND UNEDITED. 

Summary: Bad Boy Gary Rodriguez didn't know what he was getting into when he becomes a babysitter for a girl near his age. He didn't know what he was doing when he ignores his uncle's strange and suspicious rules. He didn't also have any idea what he was thinking by attaching himself to his uncle's ward. 

All he knew was that he was too far gone for the ignorant princess that should have never been born. 

(●▪︎●)

"I'll be going now hijo," his uncle looked at him with an amused smile, ruffling his nephew's hair "and don't worry because by the end of the summer, you can go back home and get your privileges back"

Gary Rodriguez scowled at his uncle "whatever, tito" and slapping the hand in his air, he grumbled "just go already, I'll watch over the spoiled princess for you"

The amusement is gone, and the small smile on his uncle's face dropped. Gary didn't fidget, but he inwardly admitted to himself it bothered him, and was concerned, at the intense, blank look his uncle was giving him. Normally, the older man was a jovial, teasing prick. But whenever he speaks anything about his newly acquired ward, he just get into this strange mood. 

Gary, for all he tried to not squirm, jumps at the hand on his shoulder and the cold eyes of his uncle. 

"Remember to keep your promise hijo," his uncle's grip tightened on his shoulder "do not forget what I have told you."

"Okay, okay tito! I get it!" Gary pushed his uncle and stepped back, wary "I'll remember the rules. I won't forget, promise. Stop acting like a weirdo, you can trust me."

His uncle seemed to snap out of it, and released him. He took a few steps back, and a look of regret crossed his face "Shit,” he palms his face “I trust you, I do. I'm sorry—"

"It's fine," Gary says, because it is. He's fine. But he's not sure his uncle is though "Tito, you don't have anything to worry about. Everything will be alright."

His uncle sighs and nods "don't forget to take care of yourself, alright?"

Gary rolls his eyes "who do you think I am, tito? You know how my parents raised me."

His uncle smiles "of course, I was just checking" and then starts to head for the door "I'll see you later kid, make sure not to break anything"

And Gary Rodriguez, only eighteen years old, is now left alone in his uncle's house with two maids, and a sixteen year old girl whom he was supposed to babysit, for the whole summer. 

Brushing aside how he’s uncle was being a weirdo and that he would have to babysit someone who was of his own age, but is also a shut-in so he wouldn’t be able to really meet with anyways, Gary doesn’t think anything will go wrong.

He has it easy, he has to look after some spoiled brat who is some nerdy shut-in.  He wouldn’t be interacting with her directly, and she had two maids to do that for him if he ever needs to. He only has to pay attention to the rules his uncle sets up for him. Even then, it’ll be fine if Gary forgets a rule or two. Just what could go wrong if he didn’t follow the rules? 

~

One, keep your distance. You are not an actual babysitter given a job to look after a baby. Your actual job is to just  manage the house, and the performance of the people in it. Don't concern yourself with my ward other than what is necessary.

His uncle has been gone for a week, and as he had told him, Gary didn't really do any actual babysitting (not that he had a problem with it because with how many baby cousins Gary had to look after when he was growing up, he was already a pro babysitter) and it was kinda a relief, because it would really be a pain to look after a spoiled teenage girl who would definitely gawk at him. All Gary had to do was manage the household finances, the bills and keep everything in order. The two Filipino women his uncle had hired would always split up and take turns in who would stay in the spoiled princess's room and who would do the household chores like cleaning the kitchen and etc. 

The past few days, all Gary had been doing was watching movies on Netflix, eating pizza or chinese food, and bathroom breaks. 

It didn't surprise Gary that he was bored. Normally, he would have been with his friends at a party, and flirting with a girl and dumping that girl the next day or something. He would have been very happy right now if he was having fun partying, totally drunk and high, and making out with several girls or more in which would lead to him getting laid and sneaking out of her bedroom window the next day. But no, his parents had to ground him and send him to his uncle, who had him look after his ward, a spoiled princess who never left her room. 

His phone vibrated, and Gary looks to see who it was— ah, it was his uncle. 

He stands, and tries to look for the other maid who was in charge of house duty today. He can't find her, so she must be also in the spoiled princess's room.

He sighs. 

He goes to the door.

He knocks.

He waited for a few moments, and could hear the slight movement, the shuffling and muttered whispers.

It opens, and it's strange how odd Gary feels about it; it was just a door after all. But it opens, and he feels… excited? Maybe nervous?

The door opened and he was met with the distrustful eyes of Kamay.

"Yes?"

Gary looks at the four foot tall woman with narrowed eyes. She reacts to it with a flinch, and immediately looks down to the floor, shoulders tense. Gary frowns in confusion. 

"My uncle says the package for the prin— the girl will be ready for her later at six, so make sure to pick it up by the door."

Kamay nods at him obediently "I understood sir," in broken english, and stays by the door.

Gary sighs "you are dismissed," he says as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and feels a bit of headache when the girl nods at him before closing the door back. 

Gary is disappointed.

He walks away to return to his movie, ignoring the muffled conversations of his mother's language in the spoiled princess's room. 

He slumps back to the couch, and stares blankly at the flat screen. 

"I wonder what should I order for tonight?"

Let Kamay and Paa handle my ward by themselves. They are loyal and they are pretty devoted to her, so you don't have to worry. Just keep your distance from my ward, Gary. Don't get too close with her.

~

Gary really tries not to think too much of it. He likes playing dumb around people with secrets. He prefers to live in ignorance than knowing the painful truth. 

Like how his gentle and mild mannered father would often come home late, exhausted, because of a business meeting with a lingering perfume on his rumpled clothes and lipstick stains on his neck. Or how his mother could play the tough, headstrong mother and loving, dutiful wife by day and a broken woman at night? Or whenever he would glance at his sister, and notice how the blonde color was the wrong shade, far too light, or how her narrow, sharp face and cat slanted blue eyes would remind him of their neighbor, the married guy next door, instead of their long faced and upturned eyes and honey blond curled father?

Gary is used to not knowing secrets, and keeping them… even if it was really obvious.

What Gary Rodriguez isn't good at is the fact he was reckless, and when he gets curious at something interesting, he tends to forget  everything and becomes reckless. 

Is it any wonder he had purposely broken the second rule?

_

Two, the way my ward was raised by her family was… odd, and one of them was how girls are to be sheltered from the world, and kept in her room 24/7. Obviously, I don't believe in archaic teachings because they are  just full of nonsense. But for now, my ward must never leave her room. I doubt that would happen, but if it does, call for her maids. Instruct them to return her inside her room, and to never make it happen again. 

Gary didn't really expect it. 

It was a stormy night, and both Kamay and Paa were already dead asleep in their respective rooms. 

Gary meanwhile, was still awake and silently wondering if he was just an idiot or a masochist.. 

The latter would make everything sense because it would explain why he watching a stupid kid's show he hated— Frozen. He was sick of it, and who wouldn't when he had been forced to rewatch it a hundred times in every family gathering he had attended. 

Gary got up, went to the kitchen to take out the pizza he had stored in the fridge and a can of beer and returned to the living room only to freeze when he saw someone sitting on the couch. 

He calmed his heart once he realised it wasn't really a ghost that was about to kill him, and instead, was just a girl who just had very long (and creepy) hair. 

He deduced that it must be his uncle's ward he took in from the Philippines three years ago, the spoiled princess. 

The room was dark, only being illuminated by the flat screen tv. The heavy rain and thunder outside almost drowns out the screaming Kristoff and Anna in the movie. 

Gary, if she does come out of her room—

"Hey," he called, and the girl snaps her head at him and froze in fear "you aren't supposed to be out here."

Don't approach her, or try to talk to her.

The girl flinched and looked down, her hands that curled into fists shook slightly in her lap. 

Let Kamay and Paa handle her.

Gary frowned. He felt like an asshole because the girl in front of him was obviously scared of him. She looked terrified, and guilty.

Gary, stay away from her.

Gary knows that he should have called for Kamay and Paa by now, and had this spoiled princess go back to her room. 

Alright, hijo?

He really knows what he should do but… when did Gary not fuck things up on purpose, just to see what happens?

"Why are you out here?" He asked bluntly, sitting on the other couch "you do know you aren't allowed out your room, right?" 

She didn't say a word. 

Gary puts the box of cold pizza on the coffee table and opens his can of beer "if you're hungry, you can take some pizza, but only that" and he drinks the beer "just not this, cause this is off limits."

Gary looks at the girl, and at the screen. Olaf is pierced by an ice, and is a dumbass about it. 

"That movie is all about the two sisters, Elsa and Anna. Elsa, the oldest sibling, has this magic ice powers he can't control. She and Anna fought in a party, and ran away while freezing her whole kingdom. Anna is her little sister who goes on a journey to get Elsa back, and unfreeze the whole winter.  In the end, they get a happy ending. Elsa learns how to control her powers and Anna gets her sister back."

This gets the girl's attention, and she looks up to watch the movie again. 

Gary watches her, instead. 

He has to admit, the spoiled princess is very pretty.

The spoiled princess pulled her feet from the ground and close to her body, wrapping her arms around her knee and laying her chin on top of it as she watched the movie with wonder in her very round dark eyes. Unlike most girls he knows, she was wearing a frilly, pastel colored nightgown that stops at her knees. Her exposed arms lets him see how smooth and soft her very pale skin is, not a trace of scar or blemish. Her face is small, soft and delicately structured. Like a doll, Gary thinks to himself before paying attention to her hair. It was black, and it was thick, and it was also very long. 

Gary didn't have an idea why his uncle was being strange, or why he insisted to keep his ward isolated from everyone except for a few certain individuals (Gary lied; he might've had an idea or two, but he doesn't really dig in since he doesn't really want answers. It was his uncle. Why on earth would he pick a no-name girl from the streets over his irritating and always cheerful uncle?). Now, he might have an idea. Was it because his uncle was all too aware of Gary's reputation at school? Had his mother told him of his 'adventures'? Whatever it was, his uncle doesn't have anything to worry about. Rules or no rules, he wouldn't touch the girl. Not that she wasn't pretty, because she was. But the princess wasn't his type. His type were hot, fiery-tempered and headstrong women. 

Not delicate, shy and spoiled princesses. 

Gary sighs inwardly, but though he didn't have any intent in taking his ward's virginity, his uncle would surely still kill him if he knew what happened tonight. 

The heavy rain starts to ease into something gentle and soft. Gary alternatively watches the movie and the girl while munching on his cold pizza and drinking his beer. 

Honestly, he didn't expect the spoiled princess to be so meek and timid, Gary thinks. 

The girl's eyes lit up in childish joy, making small noises of 'ah' in awe. Gary almost thought she was mute until he remembered that no, she wasn't because she could talk. She was also like a small child, innocent and pure, untainted by the outside world. She had even forgotten about him, a strange guy, in favor of watching a kid's movie.

"Hey you," the girl stops and freezes like a rabbit on a field, finally remembering that Gary was there "what's your name? Tito didn't tell me what your name is, and I am supposed to look after you in his stead for the whole summer. It'll be awkward if we don't get along, or at least, know each other's name."

The girl slowly moves her head at him, and stares at his blue eyes with her dark coal ones. She blinked. 

Gary groaned "wait, do you even understand English?" She blinked again, and Gary sighs and slumps to back to the couch. 

"–...a,"

Gary turns back to the girl again, eyes wide. 

"...can understand… but not good in english…" the girl says, her voice soft and shy "but I can understand."

Gary sits straight.

"my… my name is Tala…" she repeats her name again much more firmly "Tala." 

Gary feels his lips twitch, and surprisingly, lets himself smile. 

"Nice to meet you, Tala." Gary held his hand out to her "You can call me Gary."

The spoiled princess stared at the hand in confusion. 

"It's how you greet people you don't know during or after you introduce yourself," Gary explains "You take my hand with yours, and hold it—" Gary is taken aback when the girl did not hesitate to grab his hand with hers "yes, just like that, and after this, you shake it, firmly."

Her hands were small, soft and dainty. It fits with the whole spoiled princess thing. But it was cold in his veiny, gorilla big hand. She felt fragile, as if any moment, he would break her.

"Gary," the girl, Tala, gives him a very soft smile "nice… nice to meet you too, Gary"

~

"So how would you rate Rapunzel?" Gary asked as the credits started to roll, throwing a popcorn in his mouth.

Tala, as it turned out, had never watched any movies before. Nor did she own any device, like a phone. She also didn't have an encounter with machines from her life in the Philippines, and was prohibited to use any machines when she came to his uncle's care. Gary took pity on her ignorance and the fact that she was deprived of fun and imagination in her childhood and resolved to fix it for her— by having movie nights with her. 

Tonight, it was about Rapunzel. 

"... I feel… six?" 

"Six?" Gary raised an eyebrow at the girl " why six?"

"I don't know…" Tala's eyebrows furrowed together as she pondered, eyes up at the dark ceiling "maybe it is because we are similar?"

"Similar?" Gary echoed, confused "in what way?"

Tala blinks and looks at him surprised "your uncle did not tell you what girl I am?"

"Um, no?" Gary was very confused now.

Tala smiled indulgently at him, and Gary had to stop himself from bristling at how condescending it felt— because this girl before him was too nice and innocent to mock him for no reason. 

"In my village, at home, I was the Binukot." She said, "Binukot are daughters like Rapunzel— but not taken. No binukot are taken from their families. It is an honorable tradition. Honourable families would have a daughter, and because the daughter is special, the girl will be kept safe away from the world by her family until the time comes in which she will be wed. The more value a binukot has, the more many dowry her suitor would bestow on her family."

What.

"You mean to tell that, that before my uncle took you in–" Gary looked at her incredulously with disbelief coloring his voice "you, you were locked up in your house since you were a baby?"

Tala tilted her head at him "yes?"

"And you are okay with that?! They locked you up!" 

"It was… it was for my own good," Tala mumbles as she played with the blanket.

"Just like it was for Rapunzel's?" Gary shot back, snidely. 

He wanted to hit her on the head— 

'Or maybe just himself. Just how stupid was this girl to think that was okay? Have they even watched the same movie? The idiocy of some people–' all anger in Gary faded when he noticed Tala not looking at him, with her shoulders trembling. 

Oh fuck, now you've done it asshole. 

Gary sighs "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Tala. I shouldn't have taken my anger at you. You were blameless."

Tala, that stubborn girl, shook her head "No, Gary. I am not blameless. I was binukot for my own good."

Gary frowned at her "did you ask for it?"

Tala looks at him, surprised at his question. 

"No?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"No," Tala said, flustered "no Gary."

"Then were you happy?" 

"Being a binukot is not shameful or bad, Gary. It is honorable and it brings pride to the family—" 

Gary cuts her off "I was asking if it made you happy, Tala."

Tala stares, her dark coal eyes wide in surprise. Gary stared back, but the way Tala was staring at him was different. The way she looked at him was just like the first time they met that night. She stared at him as if he was a strange, foreign thing she had never before seen in her life.

"Tala?"

"No," she admits, looking down shamefully "I was not very happy. But you do not understand, Gary. My family had to make me a binukot. I am not like other girls."

There were tears in the corner of her eyes that threatened to spill. 

Gary's heart throbbed at the sight. He felt like an asshole who just kicked a newborn puppy.

He stood up and left the room. 

Tala really tried to stop herself crying, but she couldn't. Droplets of tears fall down her pale, curled fists on her laps. She couldn't stop shaking and her chest really hurt. She didn't mean to make Gary upset. Is he going to hate her now? She didn't want that! She didn't want Gary to go away! 

Tala sobs. 

She could try and explain why she was special. But if she told the truth to Gary… He would surely hate her. No matter what happened, Gary would hate her. 

She wailed. 

Gary would hate her and she could only blame herself—

She stops when she feels something cold pressed close to her cheek. She blinks away the tears and looks up to see Gary with a frown, concern and guilt in his very blue eyes. 

"Gary?" She hiccups.

"Silly girl," he says, scolding her with a stern frown "why are you even crying? Stop that!"

"But," Tala trembles "but Gary,"

He hushed her cries by shoving a spoon in her mouth. She blinks, confused and gasps in awe at the delightful cold sweet that was melting in her mouth. 

"What is that?" 

"This is ice cream," Gary hands her the bowl with a grin "eating it will make you feel better."

"Really?" Tala hiccups, taking the bowl of the ice cream in her hands.

Gary nods "really, so stop crying like a baby, you silly girl" and then he asked "would you mind me touching your hair?"

She blinks.

Gary scratches the back of his neck as he smiles down at her sheepishly "whenever my sister cries, I try to comfort her by giving her ice cream and braiding her hair. But it's okay if you don't want to. We can just watch another movie–"

Tala grabs the hem of his shirt just as he was about to turn.

"It's okay, Gary. You can," she sniffles "you can play with my hair."

Gary nods, not having anything to say so he plops back down the couch. Tala turns around for Gary who immediately starts to brush her hair. 

There is only silence after that, with a few sniffles from Tala and unconscious muttering from the very focused Gary.

Several shafts of firelight pierced the bamboo walls of my heavily decorated room. Alerted by urgent footsteps and restless flickering of torches carried by several men, my eyes flew open while keeping still as I could manage. I may not be allowed to participate in defending our kingdom but I can still listen to the sentries and gather what information I can from their hushed voices.

Then came fear. An unwanted feeling that I am extremely familiar with. Wars amongst tribes was the only constant occurrence as I was growing up that it instilled in me this fear I know too well.

After listening for a while, loud footsteps overwhelmed the violent current from the nearby river. The voice of my father giving my servants stern instructions somehow calms me down. Although I’ve never seen his face, I know his voice too well. Our conversations were always formal and professional, between a Datu and a binukot, strictly done with a partition separating us. That definite rule, a law that only my kin dared to implement, made me the most valuable treasure in the kingdom and among the tribes.

What I look like, only Mother knows. I was immediately hidden from everyone after I was born; even my father and my brothers hadn’t laid eyes on me even once. Other kingdoms give their priests special permissions to correspond with their living scribes but ours do not. Performing my predestined obligation granted my noble family the highest honor and prestige. Even the citizens are willing to fight on my command. It’s a pleasure, knowing the significance of my existence.

“Mother, last night. . .”

Mother lifted her head and her eyes confirmed that what I heard, Father’s urgent voice and the angry clash of metal against metal, was indeed real. The Sultan’s troops took advantage of the storm last night and many more lives were sacrificed to protect the kingdom.

“Kinnara, have you ever dreamt of watching the sea?” she asked, refocusing on her weaving. Her slender fingers expertly tackled the stubborn threads. Loneliness seemed to grip her voice and I understand because we share the same fate. She too was a Binukot but Father granted her the warmth of the sun and the freedom to see the world until sixteen years ago when she had to stay with me and raise me by herself. I wonder if she ever regretted giving birth me.

“Mother, I am contented with this life I know. I do not wish to be anyone I am not and I do not want anything that is not meant for me.”

If she’s testing me, I’m confident that I passed. I wish my answer makes her happy. Happy, contented, loneliness; I knew all these words but really, I’m not too sure I understood what they actually meant. And although I knew what curiosity is supposed to be like, I am not interested. Knowing nothing about the normal world except from my mother’s stories is not a problem a problem in my standpoint. Weaving and doing my duty as a living scribe by memorizing epics and songs certainly would not be a burden to me.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Banog,” I call one of my servants, my eldest brother, who was standing guard outside my room. “Summon the Datu.”

Without a word, Banog leaves and Bukaw took over his post. I watched their shadows move and disappear. Mother silently continued her weaving and maybe, her prayers, because I am praying too. Desperately. We’re in the middle of a crisis after all.

After a while, Banog returned to inform me that Father was currently negotiating with the hostile tribe. There was a hint of worry in his voice but his concerns to me were insignificant.

“Do you know that the sea is salty?” Mother asked me again. Something was definitely troubling her and it's affecting me in a way that is both disturbing and upsetting. I stared at her intently.

“Do you hate me, Mother?” I asked her those things but inside my chest was a tangled ball of white threads. “I do not appreciate you messing with my resolve.”

Hate. These words spilling from my mouth were ideas borrowed from those epic tales that I’d memorized. The realization that I might never had an emotion of my own relieved me.

She shook her head crying but I couldn't sympathize with her. I’ve never cried. I have nothing to cry about. Maybe those tears were the evidence of her hate because that emotion was believed to weigh heavily on the heart. She must have been suffering.

She embraced me and whispered to my ear the most terrifying fate that awaited me. My mind went blank and all I heard was the creaking of the bamboo floor and the murmurs of the nearby river. The boiled bananas I ate for snack almost escaped me.

“I am too late after all,” I whispered but it sounded more like a croak. I was aware of the possibility but I could never believe my father went ahead for the final resort. He severed the thread and sacrificed me.

He sold me. He betrayed me.

I heaved a sigh to rid myself of the unfamiliar dark-colored emotions entangling with the plain white threads that I believed was my heart. Then I smiled, carefully wiping away my mother’s tears with the hem of my skirt.

Fearing for my own is an act of selfishness. I was not raised so I could live for my sake. The Heavens blessed me with this beauty for the benefit of our kingdom. My only option was to save the lives of my people.

“I will submit to the Sultan. It is the right thing to do,” I declared. I shivered at the thought but decided that from now on, I must talk of the Sultan in the most respectable manner. My future depends on him and to adore my future husband is going to become my sole duty.

Mother violently shakes her head with her fingers digging on my shoulders and her eyes so wide with unsung pleas. It’s strange, as if she’s a different person. She was supposed to be the most sophisticated woman in the tribe but I don't see a trace of that right now. Only the eyes of a frightened woman unable to say the things she wanted to say, silenced by her own upbringing.

“You are the treasure of our tribe, Kinnara. I cannot allow that monster to taint and enslave you!”

“He’s going to wipe us out. A farming tribe cannot stand for too long against a tribe that breathes war.”

I am the objective all along, anyway. Father chose to keep the reason hidden but I eventually realized the truth. I am privileged with the abundance of time to think and ponder things over.

The Sultan's warriors killed our people and burned down their houses. Even the domesticated animals were not spared. There was no looting involved, only a clear message left for us to consider. The wars existed because the Sultan wants the most valuable Binukot among the kingdoms. Obtaining me meant their kingdom's illegibility to be granted the greatest political power in all of Kalupaan. The remaining kingdoms will surrender and kneel under one supreme ruler.

It spells the worst possible future for the kingdoms, but who am I to challenge the inevitable? 

“Mother, I am afraid too, but I will cast it aside. I will let you bear these fears for both of us.”

I hoped it was the end of my mother’s protests. I know she’s worried because of what I am but the Sultan recognizes that fact and still wants me. That gives me hope. 

*

Strange noises –

I realize I fell asleep. I found myself inside my largest palanquin and Mother was nowhere near. I called for her and I called Bukaw’s name. Only the cicadas replied.

I’m not naturally curious of what lies beyond the walls the confine me. Every time I am transported, peeking doesn’t even occur to me. People could be executed just by looking at me so I figured I’d also discipline myself by completely accepting my seclusion. It is only fair.

But the strangeness of those sounds prompted me to take a little look.

I gasped.

I see the moon! And it’s better than the one I saw during the harvest ritual. Is it a different one? A bigger, brighter and prettier moon? A mother moon, maybe?

I wish Mother could give me answers.

“Where am I?” I whispered. Normally, I would just sit and wait but my common sense tells me that there is no one around to do my bidding. I gingerly touch the wall of my palanquin and my hand immediately retracted. The sighs and shivers startling me so much that I ended up speechless.

The walls were breathing and shivering. Really shivering, like a living being that is soft and warm to the touch.

“Get out,” says a deep, rusty voice that conjured in my mind images of a no good vagrant, or maybe a drunkard. Right then the walls collapsed and rippled beneath me that I bolt upright, almost touching the earth with my bare feet.

“I can’t!” I shout, repulsed by the thought of losing my status to mere dirt.

“Get out or I’ll kick you, brat!” the voice rumbled and the wood beneath my feet rippled again, more violently this time, and tossed me out off its wooden floor. While I struggled to get up, the palanquin reassembles itself, but not before slamming on my back and knocking me off-balance. It ran off toward the dark forest, laughing madly.

I stared at the darkness for a long time. It dawned on me that my worth just disintegrated along with my status and my whole life has been such a pitiful waste. Just because I stepped on the ground with my own two feet.

And I am all alone. I’m on the ground, barefooted, and for some reason; my palanquin is alive and shamelessly kicked me out. If I’m not dreaming then maybe the gods or the jealous diwatas are playing a trick on me. No wonder none of them answered my prayers.

They were jealous of the beauty that drove kingdoms into years of violent wars, I thought, feeling dark threads wrapped tightly around my throat.

Almost cursing out loud, I paused upon remembering the beautiful moon. I looked up once again, appreciating the fact that no trees obscured my view. The strange sounds came from the direction of the moon, so maybe mortals can hear the moon when it’s that close and big. I took one careful step, and then another, wincing as tiny sharp rocks cut the soles of my soft feet. 

“I can never be who I was,” occupied my mind as I struggled forward. Walking is awfully exhausting, especially since the path was sloping and the rocks were getting sharper. I stopped to tie my hair on my back and then gathered up my flowy garb to avoid tripping on them accidentally.

The moon kept on getting farther away whenever I believed that I’m getting really close. I ran uphill where a single boulder carved it's silhouette right in front of the moon. I might catch it if I go a little bit faster. 

“One can never run fast enough to catch the moon.” It’s a man’s voice. “Especially one as clumsy and slow as you.”

I panicked.

Someone, a person, saw me!

I cocked my head to the direction where the voice came from. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him. I thought he was a boulder from down the hill but now that I'm standing next to him, he’s a man with a huge stone bilao covering the entirety of his hunched back. His view was fixed on the faraway void so he looked kind of sleepy.

He took my breath away, just like how the moon did earlier.

“What are you?” I asked, breathless. I am not ignorant, I know that there are different kinds of people. But I haven’t heard of a person with a large stone stuck on his back. It looked bumpy, with flowering crystal spikes in the middle, but the edges were rounded, smooth and shiny.

“You’re a rude fellow,” the man points out, his voice sounded sleepy too. He didn’t even glance in my direction. Was he afraid of the consequences of looking at a binukot?

“I’m sorry,” I say because I really was. It might be an illness that I’m not aware of. I puffed my cheeks. Can't he see that I'm barefoot? Nothing will happen even if he stares at me because I am no longer pure.

But he was still fussing over the thin bamboo stick he’s holding, pulling it up and dropping the line again.

The cold wind blew and I shivered. The air smelled tangy but not unpleasant, like fish broth. “What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Fishing,” he answered, pointing at the vast rice field below our hill that expanded far beyond, reflecting the brightest moon I have ever seen.

“Fishing?! In a rice field?”

He laughed, his eyes closed and wrinkled at the sides. I found myself smiling too, because he made it seem so easy.

Beneath us, the strange booming sounded clearer than when I heard it from afar. What I believed to be a rice field was in fact something else,  mirroring the light of the moon like the inside of a clamshell.

“So it’s the first time you’ve seen the sea?”

I nodded but realizing that he isn’t paying attention, I said, “Yes.”

 “No wonder he's dancing more beautifully than usual.”

“It was the sea calling out to me.” I breathe. It was the strange noise, her song, that beckoned me to her.

“Sometimes, the sea wants an audience, especially when the moon dances on her surface. Then, a wish is born.”

I listened to his bizarre stories. My throat itched because of the cold and his sleepy voice made me drowsy but the tales he told me were so fun and mesmerizing. The people in it and the places he described were unlike the images I saw in the epic chants that I memorized.

Strong winds blew right past us that I worried I might topple over and plunge to my death but the man seemed unaffected by the elements and continued talking in his own pace. He would occasionally pull his fishing line and then throw it back downagain.

He’s a peculiar man, although I don’t know the extent of his peculiarity because I didn’t have anybody to compare him with. Unlike my mother, he talks like everything around us is alive and familiar. 

In the end, he didn’t catch any fish. Instead, he easily hauled the largest clam I have ever seen, filled with shiny pearls of assorted sizes that looked like eggs of different birds. He tossed the largest one to me and I catched it with both hands.

“Thank you,” I told him. The pearl was surprisingly warm that I pressed it to my cold cheek. At last, he stood up, leaving the thin bamboo pole on the rough ground. He staggered and seemed surprised by it.

“Oops, it’s gotten heavier,” he says.

"What is?"

"My shell," he answered, slowly turning to show me his back and I waited patiently for him to face me again.

“What happens if it gets too heavy for you to carry?”

He stared at me for the first time and shrugged. His eyes were black and shining, like the surface of the calm sea.

“I will probably turn into a rock. Or maybe I will turn into nothing.”

Something stirred inside my chest, like a tug and the threads started moving and recoiling. It made me queasy.

“Why would you like that?” I asked him. It was late when I noticed the accusatory tone in my voice.

“I don’t like it. But I can’t help caring for people, so I can’t escape my fate. We are the same, bound to our curses.” He walked away, like an upright, lazy turtle. I remember I saw a turtle once.

Binukot 

A little? A little?! I’mma give you the entire rice cooker omg 

So!!! The concept of a binukot has always, always fascinated me- not just because it’s a part of my culture but extra that because my great (great...great...?) grandmother was one! 

So Binukot probably came from the term ‘bukot’ which means ‘taken’. And it’s a very old precolonial tribal practice of sequestering affluent family daughters, raised to be the keepers of oral tradition (they memorize hours-days long epics, they learn the traditional dances, the tribal songs). 

In exchange, they live very secluded lives, they are forbidden to be seen by members outside of the family and any man, they do not work manual labor (although sometimes they can weave), and some of them were not allowed to be under the sun or have their feet touch the ground (supposedly so delicate, their feet would bleed. 

But my grandmother told me something else about it being to keep her ‘off the dirt of the earth’, and how they had raised platforms/beams off the floor even inside their old family house.) 

(LOooooooOOOOTs of resources online just look up Binukot!) 

This seclusion is supposed to increase your value as a potential bride. If your family accepts a suit from anyone who pays the highest pangayu, or bride price, bam. You’re married (but the husband isn’t even permitted to /see/ you after the ceremony.) Yep. 

I could never do this concept as much justice as I want it, so I’ll only base it on the legend loosely and give it another title. But man! 

(My (great^3) grandmother ended up married to a Spanish soldier. History is fascinating.)

I love yooooou! 

Anyway, Gravity. Because we have time.  Yoongi x Reader, hurt/comfort, fluff. <3

The dinner goes great, but at the end of it Yoongi's aunt tells him his cheeks are too plump (expected) and it's also nice to see he got a girlfriend (What.).

Yoongi flushes. "She's not my-" 

"You couldn't hide it if you tried, dear.” And, quieter, less for him and more for her— "That’s how your dad looked at your mom." 

He’s not sure what to say.