Chapter 5 : Twenty-Six

Nagising ako bago pa tumunog ang alarm ko.

Not because I was responsible now. Hindi dahil bigla akong naging morning person after makipag-deal kay Death.

Nagising ako kasi nasusunog ang wrist ko.

I sat up with a sharp gasp, clutching my left arm against my chest. For a second, akala ko may sugat talaga. Like actual blood, actual burn na kailangan kong ipaliwanag kay Mama without sounding insane.

Pero wala.

Just the mark.

Only now, it wasn’t 27 anymore.

It was 26.

Napatitig ako sa wrist ko habang unti-unting lumalamig ang kwarto.

Twenty-six.

Isang araw na ang nawala.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Hindi nakakapanic. Totally normal. Very fun.”

My voice cracked on the last word.

I pressed my thumb over the number, but the pale mark stayed there, clean and quiet and impossible. Parang reminder na kahit magising ako sa sarili kong kwarto, kahit marinig ko ang kapitbahay naming nagbubukas ng gripo, kahit naamoy ko ang sinangag mula sa kitchen, nothing about my life was normal anymore.

I had twenty-six days left.

Twenty-six days to figure out Caelan Vasquez.

Twenty-six days to stop something I didn’t even understand.

Twenty-six days, and yesterday, ang biggest achievement ko was saying hello without completely passing out.

Great.

Amazing progress.

Death must be so proud.

By the time I reached San Aurelio Academy, the sky was gray and heavy. Hindi pa umuulan, pero mukhang nag-iisip na siya. Students were crowding near the gate, complaining about the humidity, quizzes, teachers, life in general. Normal high school noise.

Pero iba na ang dating sa akin.

Every laugh sounded borrowed.

Every ordinary thing felt like something I had to protect.

I spotted Mika near the bulletin board, one hand holding her tumbler, the other scrolling through her phone.

“There you are,” she said, looking up. “I was about to send a search party.”

“Dramatic.”

“Says the girl who spent yesterday acting like she saw a ghost.”

I almost laughed.

Almost.

“Kulang lang ako sa tulog.”

Mika narrowed her eyes. “You’ve used that excuse since Grade Nine.”

“And it remains useful.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on with you and Caelan?”

My stomach tightened.

“Nothing.”

“Lyra.”

“What?”

“You talked to him at the gate. Then sa likod ng science building. Then you were holding his pen like it was some sacred artifact.”

I looked away. “It was a normal pen.”

“It was blue.”

“So?”

“So you hate blue pens. You said they make your handwriting look emotionally unstable.”

“That sounds like something I would say.”

“It is. That’s why I’m worried.”

Before I could answer, the first bell rang.

Saved by the bell.

Literally.

I started walking toward the building. “We’re going to be late.”

Mika fell into step beside me. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Yes.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“Trying something new.”

She bumped her shoulder lightly against mine. “Just be careful, okay?”

I stopped walking.

The hallway moved around us, students brushing past, laughter bouncing off the walls, shoes squeaking against the floor.

“Why?” I asked.

Mika blinked. “Because Caelan doesn’t exactly let people in.”

The words hit too close.

I forced my face to stay normal. “Maybe people don’t try.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe he makes it really hard.”

I looked down at my covered wrist.

Twenty-six.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I noticed.”

The morning passed in strange little flashes.

I knew Ma’am Dela Cruz would forget her marker in the faculty room before she did. I knew Sir Ramon would give us a five-item quiz and pretend it was “for attendance only,” which was obviously a lie because teachers loved saying harmless things before ruining your grades. I knew the lights in the second-floor hallway would flicker during recess.

All of it happened.

Exactly.

Pero may maliliit na bagay na nagbago.

Yesterday, a Grade Ten student slipped near the stairs because someone spilled juice.

Today, I stopped walking, stared at the floor before it happened, and warned the girl behind me.

“Careful. Basa.”

She stepped aside just as another student almost slipped.

“Thanks,” she said, surprised.

I nodded, but my heart was pounding.

I changed something.

Tiny lang. Almost nothing.

But something.

So maybe this wasn’t just a replay.

Maybe I could actually move things.

Maybe I could ruin things too.

That thought stayed with me until lunch.

I didn’t go to the canteen.

Mika called after me, confused, but I waved her off and said I needed to check something sa library. Which was technically true. I did need to check something.

A person.

The library at San Aurelio was always too cold. Parang may personal issue ang aircon sa students. The moment I stepped inside, goosebumps crawled up my arms.

There were only a few people there. Two seniors pretending to study. A group of girls whispering near the fiction shelves. The librarian, Miss Pavia, stamping books with the energy of someone who had given up on joy before lunch.

And then I saw him.

Caelan sat at the farthest table, near the window where the rain had finally started tapping against the glass. He had his sketchbook open, earphones in, one hand moving a pencil across the page.

He looked peaceful.

Not happy.

Just… less guarded.

For a second, I almost turned around.

It felt wrong to interrupt him.

Then my wrist burned.

I closed my eyes.

Fine.

I walked toward him.

He noticed me before I reached the table. His pencil stopped moving.

“No,” he said.

I paused. “I haven’t said anything yet.”

“I’m saving us both time.”

“Wow. Good afternoon din.”

He removed one earphone. “Are you lost?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

I pulled out the chair across from him. “Can I sit?”

“No.”

I sat.

His eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t an invitation.”

“I know. I’m working on being brave.”

“You’re working on being annoying.”

“Multitasking.”

For a second, his mouth twitched.

It was gone almost immediately, but I saw it.

I placed my lunch on the table. Bread from the school store and a bottled iced tea I didn’t even want. My stomach was too tangled to eat.

Caelan looked at the food, then at me. “You followed me to the library to eat bread?”

“I followed the concept of silence.”

“You’re talking.”

“I’m easing into it.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then looked back down at his sketchbook. But he didn’t close it this time.

That felt important.

I tried not to look too obvious, but my eyes drifted to the page anyway. Just a glimpse. Lines, feathers, a hand reaching toward something I couldn’t see.

“It’s nice,” I said softly.

His pencil stopped.

I regretted it instantly.

“I didn’t mean to look,” I added quickly. “Sorry. It just caught my eye.”

Caelan’s jaw tightened. “People usually stare longer before pretending they didn’t.”

“I’m not people.”

He looked up. “Everyone is people.”

“Okay, fair. Bad argument.”

He closed the sketchbook halfway, not fully. “What do you want, Lyra?”

There it was again.

My name.

It still made my brain do something stupid.

I wrapped both hands around my iced tea. “I want to know you.”

The words came out too honest.

Caelan went still.

Outside, rain slid down the window in crooked lines.

“Why?” he asked.

I could lie.

I probably should lie.

Because the truth was impossible. Because saying I saw your funeral and made a deal with Death to save you would absolutely get me escorted to the guidance office.

But another fake answer felt cruel.

So I chose the smallest truth.

“Because I realized I don’t.”

His expression shifted. Not softer, exactly. Just sharper. Like I had stepped somewhere dangerous without knowing.

“You realized that yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Convenient.”

“I know.”

“You ignored me for years.”

The words were quiet.

Not angry.

That made them worse.

I looked down. “I know.”

“So what changed?”

You died.

The thought hit so hard I almost flinched.

Instead, I forced myself to breathe.

“I did,” I said.

Caelan watched me.

“That’s vague.”

“It’s the only answer I can give right now.”

“Then it’s not enough.”

A lump formed in my throat.

He wasn’t being cruel. Not really. He was asking the question anyone would ask if someone suddenly showed up and demanded space in your life without earning it.

I hated that he was right.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

That seemed to surprise him.

“For what?”

“For acting like I can just sit here and expect you to be okay with it.” I swallowed. “For making it about what I want.”

Caelan didn’t answer.

The silence stretched between us.

I expected him to tell me to leave.

He didn’t.

Instead, he opened his sketchbook again, but angled it away from me.

“You can sit,” he said. “But don’t talk too much.”

My heart jumped.

“Okay.”

“And don’t ask personal questions.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t do that thing where you look at me like I’m about to disappear.”

I froze.

His eyes lifted to mine.

Too sharp.

Too observant.

“I don’t do that,” I lied.

“You do.”

I looked away first.

For a few minutes, we didn’t talk.

I ate half my bread. He sketched. Rain tapped the window. Somewhere near the shelves, one of the girls laughed too loudly and Miss Pavia shushed her like she had been waiting all day for the opportunity.

It was almost normal.

Almost.

Then my sleeve slipped when I reached for my iced tea.

Caelan saw the mark.

His gaze locked on my wrist.

“What’s that?”

I pulled my hand back too fast. “Nothing.”

“That’s a number.”

“It’s ink.”

“It looks burned into your skin.”

“It’s very committed ink.”

“Lyra.”

I hated how serious his voice became.

I tugged my sleeve lower. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“People usually say that when something is exactly worth worrying about.”

I gave a small, humorless laugh. “You notice a lot for someone who wants everyone to leave him alone.”

His expression closed.

Wrong move.

“Maybe that’s why,” he said.

The air changed.

I wanted to take it back, but the words were already there.

“I’m sorry.”

“You say that a lot.”

“I mess up a lot.”

“Clearly.”

I should have been offended.

Instead, I laughed.

A real laugh this time. Small, surprised, but real.

Caelan looked at me like he didn’t know what to do with that.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re mean.”

“You’re still sitting here.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I am.”

He shook his head, but there was no real bite in it.

The bell rang a minute later.

I hated it.

Which was ridiculous, because lunch had mostly been awkward silence and emotional landmines. Still, when Caelan started packing his things, panic sparked in my chest.

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” I asked.

He paused. “Do what?”

“Sit. Not talk too much. Pretend this is normal.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Is that a no?”

“It’s not a yes.”

“But not a no?”

He sighed, tired and irritated and alive.

“Do whatever you want, Lyra.”

I smiled before I could stop myself. “Dangerous thing to say.”

“I’m starting to realize that.”

He stood and slung his bag over one shoulder.

Before he walked away, he placed something on the table.

A blue pen.

I stared at it.

“You keep stealing mine in some weird emotional way,” he said. “So just take it.”

My throat tightened.

“I didn’t steal—”

“Take the pen.”

I picked it up carefully.

The same kind of blue pen.

Cheap. Ordinary. Almost nothing.

Except it wasn’t nothing.

Not to me.

“Thank you,” I said.

Caelan looked away. “Don’t make it dramatic.”

“Too late.”

He muttered something I didn’t catch and left.

I stayed there for a moment, holding the pen like it weighed more than it should.

Mika found me after class near the lockers.

“There you are,” she said. “You disappeared at lunch.”

“I was in the library.”

“With Caelan?”

I didn’t answer fast enough.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. You were.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is absolutely a big deal. Since when do you voluntarily spend lunch in a freezer room with the school’s mysterious sketchbook boy?”

“Please never call him that again.”

“So you are defending him.”

“I’m not defending anyone.”

“You like him?”

“No.”

The answer came out too quickly.

Mika’s mouth curved. “Interesting.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

Complicated.

Terrifying.

Time-sensitive.

Possibly supernatural.

“I don’t know yet,” I said.

For once, Mika didn’t tease me.

She just looked at me quietly, then nodded. “Okay. But if he hurts you, I reserve the right to hate him.”

Something in my chest softened.

“Deal.”

On the way home, I sat by the jeepney window with the blue pen tucked safely in my pocket and my sleeve pulled over the mark.

Rain blurred the city outside.

Twenty-six days.

I had learned three things today.

One: I could change small moments.

Two: Caelan noticed more than I expected.

Three: getting close to him wasn’t going to be as simple as being nice.

Because he didn’t trust nice.

Maybe he had a reason.

Maybe several.

I leaned my head against the metal rail and closed my eyes.

Death told me to start by not looking away.

So I wouldn’t.

Even if Caelan made it hard.

Even if I kept saying the wrong thing.

Even if twenty-six days suddenly felt like no time at all.

Tomorrow, I would sit with him again.

And maybe, if I were lucky, he wouldn’t ask me to leave.