Her Memories

Prologue: "Kira, wake up!" I was jolted awake by Nia’s shout. "W-why?" I asked irritably, still half-asleep. "Do you know the news?" I stopped rubbing my eyes and looked at her. "What news?" I asked, my voice still filled with annoyance. "Check your messenger," she said. Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and went straight to the messenger app. I froze for a moment, struggling to process the first message that popped up in my notifications. /// Chapter One High School Days Kira's POV "Oh, you're late again!" I scolded a student, dripping wet and with a wrinkled uniform. "My mom asked me to do something, ate," he complained. "Yeah, yeah, another excuse. Go ahead and write your name on this paper," I ordered. As one of the SBO officers, it was my job to monitor the gate and keep track of the latecomers. There were penalties for students who arrived late, and those would be collected when signing the clearance for examination . "Here it is," the student handed me the paper, and I unlocked the gate for him. The flag ceremony was still ongoing. A few seconds later, another student arrived. He was wearing a blue shirt and jeans, with dark skin and thick eyebrows. He walked up and tried to open the gate. "Hold on—" I stopped him. "Are you a transferee?" I raised an eyebrow. "Y-yes," he answered quietly. "And you're late? Write your name on this small piece of paper," I instructed. He just stared at me. "Why?" I asked. "I—I don’t have a pen," he answered, making me wrinkle my nose. "Oh, really?" I muttered under my breath, fumbling in my uniform pocket for a pen and handing it to him. He looked like someone with money, but couldn't even afford a pen, I thought to myself. A moment later, he handed me the paper, and I read it. "Ace Denzy Von Abella"—I winced at the length of his name. It was longer than mine. I opened the gate and let him in. He walked in slowly, like he had all the time in the world, and I couldn’t help but grimace again. "Got a lot of latecomers today, huh?" Mang Ben, the guard, asked as he approached the gate. I gathered the papers and tucked them into my planner. "Just a few left, Kuya," I answered, walking toward the SBO office to hide the papers I had collected. Recess Time "Aren't you going to eat?" Glen asked me, noticing that I hadn’t moved from my desk. I shook my head. I was saving up for the upcoming exams. I was just writing down the names of the latecomers from earlier. She was sitting right in front of me, chewing loudly. "Dzaaaaii, didn’t you see the new guy?" A loud shout from outside the office window caught our attention. "His name’s Ace!" another voice added. I winced again. "Here they go again, the underclassmen. Every time a new guy shows up, they turn him into the campus crush and an idol," Glen groaned in annoyance. "Told you," I muttered under my breath, but before I could finish, Glen and I both turned to look at the door. The guy we were just talking about earlier approached Glen. "She’s giving this to you, from Mom," he approached her, handing her a paper bag before quickly walking away without any expression. "Kyaaaa! There he is!" I heard a squeal from outside as he went out. "Wait a minute," I stopped writing and turned to my friend. "What’s with the look?" she raised her eyebrow. "Is he someone special?" Glen rolled her eyes. "That’s Ace, my second cousin. He’s a transferee from the second year." "Ahh," I realized. He was the guy who was late earlier. "Why? Don't tell me, you've got a crush on him too?" "WTF?" "He's kinda weird you know" she added. "Ah no offense but, I really don't care" //// The new guy quickly became the talk of the school for several weeks. It turns out he’s Glen’s second cousin. He transferred here because it was closer to his home, according to my dear friend. "Hi, girls," a familiar voice called out as a guy approached our table. We were at the cafeteria and having our lunch. It was Aren, a third-year who seemed to be endlessly flirting with Glen. "Hi, Miss Glen," he greeted her with a playful tone, and Glen’s face lit up, clearly flustered. I elbowed her lightly. "Calm down your t**s," I muttered. "Hey, I can’t help it!" Glen complained, still blushing, as Aren finally joined us. "Mind if I join you guys for lunch?" Aren asked cheerfully. "What are we going to do about it?" I replied sarcastically, which made Glen scowl at me. "You really have a short temper, Miss Treasurer," Aren remarked, and I didn’t notice the guy standing behind him until he spoke. "This is Ace, by the way. My childhood friend." "What am I supposed to do?" I muttered under my breath, caught off guard by the sudden introduction. "I brought him with me," Glen explained casually, her voice laced with concern. "Looks like the other students might mess with him in the classroom." I winced as I chewed, the words sinking in with an uncomfortable weight. I could feel their eyes on me from across the table—Glen and her cousin, the guy we’d just been talking about. The silence between us felt heavy, almost too thick to breathe through. "So, cousin," Glen asked, breaking the stillness, "how’s your first week at school?" Her voice was light, but I noticed the subtle way she kept glancing at him, as if waiting for some kind of response that might bring him closer into the fold. It took him a long time to answer, like he was trying to figure out whether or not he should say anything at all. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat, detached. "It’s fine," he muttered, not looking anyone in the eye. He sounded uninterested, almost like he was too tired to care. I wasn’t sure what to make of him yet. He had a strange presence—distant, almost like he was floating just outside the realm of this world. I couldn’t tell if he was shy or just disinterested. But I didn’t have the time to ponder it too deeply. I was on a mission. "I’m going to head to the library, Glen," I said, pushing my plate away and downing the last of my juice. My stomach churned slightly, not from the food, but from the anxiety of another long study session that awaited me. Glen rolled her eyes dramatically. "Ay, Hannah Kira Asunse, all you do is read books!" she complained with a half-joking tone. I didn’t respond. Instead, I just shrugged and stood up, grabbing my bag. She had a point, though. I did love reading. But it wasn’t just a hobby—it was an escape. A way to dive into worlds where things made sense, where characters had problems, but they solved them and moved forward. It was where I could forget for a while. As I walked toward the library, I could still hear her voice trailing behind me, her playful complaints echoing in the hallway. But I didn’t let them bother me. I had a book waiting for me, and I was determined to finish it. It felt like the world was moving at a pace I couldn’t keep up with, but in a book, time slowed down, and for a brief moment, I could breathe. I’ve always been the quiet type. People call it being introverted, but for me, it was just a survival instinct. At home, things were always too loud—too chaotic—and books were the one place where I could find peace. I was 16 years old, but sometimes it felt like I was much older. Life hadn’t been easy, and I carried the weight of it everywhere I went. My family was broken—fractured into pieces that could never fit together again. My mother had passed away two years ago, and the grief still felt fresh, as though it had happened just yesterday. I couldn’t accept it. I wasn’t sure I ever would. The worst part was, I didn’t even know who to blame anymore. I wanted to blame my dad, for sure. After all, he had left us—left her—and started a new life with another woman. He had betrayed my mother in the worst possible way. Yes, he cheated. And yes, I could never forgive him for it. But part of me wondered if I should blame him for everything that had gone wrong in our lives. Or maybe I should just blame myself. Was it something I could have done to fix things? To make her stay? The resentment I felt toward him was almost suffocating, but I pushed it away, burying it deep. I wasn’t ready to confront it yet. There was too much going on inside me to deal with that kind of pain. Now, I lived with my grandmother, who was kind enough to take me in. She was getting older, though, and her health wasn’t what it used to be. It made focusing on my studies harder. I did what I could to help, but sometimes it felt like I was holding the weight of everything—my future, my family’s struggles, the loss of my mother—all on my own shoulders. To cover my school expenses, I relied on the insurance payout from my mom’s passing. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get me by. My dad didn’t help. I didn’t expect him to. I barely even saw him anymore, and when I did, it was always awkward—like we were strangers. My older brother worked overseas as a seaman. He barely came home, and when he did, it was like he was a ghost in the house. It made things harder, knowing that even when someone was physically present, they were still miles away emotionally. The library doors loomed ahead as I made my way down the hall, the familiar smell of books and paper filling my lungs. It was a comfort I’d come to rely on over the years. I went straight to the book section where I had left my current read—the book that had kept me distracted for days. But when I reached the shelf, my heart sank. It wasn’t there. My brows furrowed in confusion as I scanned the shelves, my eyes darting back and forth. Maybe I had left it in a different spot. I checked the nearby tables, peeking around corners, hoping it had just been misplaced. But no. It was gone. I walked a few steps, looking around in disbelief. There was no sign of it. My frustration grew, and I felt a small pang of disappointment. I had been so close to finishing it. For a moment, I stood there, frozen, trying to figure out where to search next. But then, something in the back of my mind shifted. Maybe it wasn’t just the book I was looking for anymore. Maybe what I really needed was to find a way to stop feeling lost in the first place lol. I froze when I noticed a figure not too far from me. The book he was holding looked oddly familiar. I also realized he wasn’t wearing a uniform, which made him stand out even more. Without really thinking, I found myself walking toward him. "Excuse me," I said politely, my voice tentative. He turned to look at me, a curious expression on his face, almost as if asking, What is it? His face wasn’t familiar to me at all. "Yes?" he asked, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity. "Um... the book you’re holding," I began, unsure of how to phrase it. I wasn’t sure if it was okay to just ask him for it. He raised an eyebrow. "And?" he prompted, seemingly waiting for me to continue. "Well, it’s just that… um..." I trailed off, suddenly feeling unsure of myself. I was stuttering, and I hated how nervous I felt. "Oh, you mean this one? Are you reading it too?" he asked, his accent sounding smooth, almost musical. It was like he’d stepped out of some other world, where people actually knew how to speak properly. I nodded, relieved he didn’t seem offended by my awkwardness. "I like it too," he said with a small smile. "But you can have it. I’m almost finished with the novel." He handed the book over to me, and without thinking, I reached out and accepted it. His gesture was so casual, so easy, it made me feel even more self-conscious. "T-thanks," I stammered, still processing what had just happened. I wasn’t sure if I’d done the right thing, but there was something about him that made me feel like it was okay. "No problem," he said with a shrug. "This library isn’t that big anyway. I don’t understand why my grandmother can't seem to prioritize it." I blinked, unsure how to respond. Was he explaining something about the library? Or was he just talking about the book? I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was giving me this casual, almost offhand explanation, but it felt like there was more to it.