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there’s a kind of softness to the air after a storm in your barangay. not quite silence, not quite stillness. the sun came out around four o’clock today, and the clouds started to pull apart like cotton candy in the sky. once the dogs started barking again and someone’s radio turned on, you knew the world was waking up.
you were eight, maybe nine. old enough to wander barefoot, careful of sharp gravel and frogs in the ditch. young enough to still believe the sun chased your car when you drove. and on days like this, the only thing you cared about was whether iwaizumi hajime from two houses down would come with you.
if you weren’t already side by side, it was easy; one whistle, or a small rock thrown against his gate. iwaizumi never admitted it, but he liked when you dragged him around. especially when you made him laugh hard enough to cover his mouth with both hands, like joy was something he had to hold in.
you had a few pesos jangling in your fist that you had stolen from under the couch cushions, and you had every intention on spending every last centavo on a sweet treat. the sari-sari store was only a few streets over, its wooden counter still damp from the rain. candy sachets dangled like flags in the window, and the freezer hummed faintly from the back.
it was run by an old couple who’d been around since before your were born. you and iwaizumi always went to them after school, so they knew you well, and they were never surprised to see you in the store, side by side.
you asked for two ice cream cups, standing up on your tip toes to see over the counter. isang cheese, isang ube . twenty-five pesos each. and some for the road. you both sat on the curb beneath the flickering street lamp, the pavement slightly warm from the afternoon sun. your shoulders almost touched, his knee brushing yours.
you finished your ice cream quickly, turning your paper cup upside down and licking the last traces off the sides. your tongue was yellow, his purple. when you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, a streak of it was left on your forearm. iwaizumi snorted, then tried not to laugh at the mess you’d made.
he always ate ice cream as if he had all the time in the world. small bites first, then in little scoops from the middle to the edges of the walls; a spiral motion. counterclockwise, then back again.
“c’mon,” he said, already standing up. “ daan tayo sa base. ”
you didn’t have to say anything. your feet already knew the way. the ‘base’ wasn’t really a base—not in the way kids on cartoons had them, anyway—but it was yours. the half-built house near the bend, framed in rusted scaffolding and peeling cement. no windows, no doors, just the wide-open skeleton of someone else’s unfinished dream.
he picked up the trash, holding the sticky wrappers in one hand, and you followed behind barefoot, slapping puddles as you walked. the street shimmered gold in the dying light. your shadows stretched long behind you.
it wasn’t a secret. it wasn’t really a base either. just an abandoned squatter house with a caved-in roof and a family of stray calicos. vines crept along the ground, and even the chain-link fences were rusted and pulled into the ground.
there was something sort of magical about that place; the trees towered over your head, blocking out the hot sun. there weren't any proper parks around, or anywhere in the philippines for that matter, but this was close enough.
you and iwaizumi had discovered it when he was trying to find his ball, daring each other to go inside in hushed tones and giggles but since then, your secret base had become your special spot, even if you did little else than go inside to lay around. despite the time that had passed, the house still smells like mold and the earthy kind of wet. you’d cleaned out most of the debris, leaving a clear space on the middle of the floor.
the inside was dim, the kind of light that filtered through cracks and slats in the roof, scattering into ribbons across the concrete. the walls were bare and grey, patched with moss and peeling paint, and the floor was still slick in places, puddles pooling where the rain had snuck through
a few months ago, you’d convinced iwaizumi to go dumpster diving and bring back some stuff to make the base feel more like a hideout and less like some abandoned wreck. you had a beaten up couch that smelled like smoke and damp, some throw pillows with questionable stains, and a coffee table propped up by a cinder block.
you dropped to your knees and started poking at a puddle in the far corner of the room. the water shimmered with the oil-slick colors of old rain, and little insects skated across the surface, their legs barely touching the water. iwaizumi joined your, pulling a stick from the floor and using it to swirl the water, careful not to splash.
they knelt side by side, dragging sticks through the puddles, watching ripples spread out like slow explosions. you dug a rock through the middle to make waves, then tried to catch a beetle that had crawled out from under a plank of wood. it curled into itself when you touched it.
they kept digging through the damp earth—finding worms, bottle caps, a zesto packet... each thing was a discovery. every flick of a finger unearthed a new secret. digging your hands deep into the soil, you pulled out a button, half-rusted, shaped like a star. you showed it to the girl next to your with wide eyes.
“this is magical,” you whispered, like they were both in on some ancient secret. “ baka galing diwata .”
“ ha ?” iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, but there was a smile tugging at the edge of your lips. “ sure ka hindi galing lang sa t-shirt mo? ”
you shoved your with a huff. “shut up. it’s special.” you clutched it a little tighter before placing it on the coffee table like an offering. then you lay back on the mattress with your arms stretched wide, listening to the sound of the world breathing outside.
“ ikaw yung special ,” iwaizumi muttered under your breath. it was the kind of jab you made all the time, meant to be sarcastic, just to tease, but this time it was so soft that you almost thought you’d imagined it.
you lay back on the mattress with a sigh. you scooted closer, arms barely touching, heads tilted to the sky peeking through the slats. the light had gone gold. dust swirled like magic in the air.
in the hazy, half-light, iwaizumi’s face had lost all its sharp edges. your hair, soft-dark and curling over your forehead. you could see the purple and yellow from their ice cream had rubbed off on iwaizumi’s chin and lips, a streak of color against your dark skin.
neither of them were talking much. just laughing sometimes, leaning close, chasing after something invisible and gone before they could grab it. time didn’t move the same way inside the base. it slowed down. stretched, softened.
the street outside glowed amber, lit by old lamps and the last breath of sun. puddles caught pieces of sky. you walked slower now, feet bare again, slippers in hand, the concrete warm and soft beneath their soles. you walked side by side, iwaizumi on the side closest to the cars, even though they were both walking in the road.
they were walking the long way home for no reason except that neither of them were ready to say goodbye yet.
a beetle flailed near the edge of the sidewalk, flipped on its back. you paused, but iwaizumi was already crouched beside it, flipping it over with an unusual gentleness.
“ kawawa ,” you said, brushing your hands on your shorts. “probably got frightened in the rain.”
you looked at your—mud on your knees, hair curling from the humidity, lips stained a little purple—and something flickered in your chest, soft and golden.
“ ano ?”
“ wala lang .”
iwaizumi started walking again, and you followed.
you thought; whatever this feeling was, however it might fester and grow inside you, you hoped it would never go away.