A hinged surface on the upper wing which, when opened, decreases lift and increases drag. Spoilers are sometimes called 'speed brakes'. They are used during the descent prior to landing and immediately after landing to decrease lift and increase braking effect.

* * *

After brushing away our tears, we decide to return back to where the others are to grab some quick lunch. However, before we can even do so, the alarm suddenly goes off; at the same time that the bombs, once again, starts falling on Zablan. César had been quick to keep a close hold of me, pushing me against the shaking ground as he uses his body as shield overhead me. The bombs go off in succession this time, clearly with every intention possible, to wipe the entire airfield clean.

It had been quite a struggle to somehow get a bearing when the entire airfield is once surrounded in dire help and chaos. When the bombs somehow subside, César pulls me up and before we know it, both of us are running to where we'll definitely be needed. However, by the time that we make it to where the planes from earlier had been parked, a few of it is now being swallowed by fire and those who've been fast enough manage to take-off.

In the end, César becomes part of those airmen whose wings had been chipped off without any plane to be used. Instead, like majority of the others present in the field, as some sort of unwritten code, he switches on to what Florencio and the others of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron had been doing—helping with the rescuing those who are alive and administering first aids if able.

As for me, I hurry back to make use of my years of training as a military nurse... and my newfound job of ensuring that the dying has someone right next to them as they take their last breaths.

* * *

I don't know how many whose hands I've held as I watch life fade away from their eyes, and I almost lost count of the wounded that I manage to help with what I am capable of giving. That even by the end of those raining bombs by the afternoon, too many are still being brought in, and other still standing establishment are converted into makeshift hospital wards were then categorized by what degree of immediate attention are needed to each one.

I almost lost track of time that when the chaos somehow subsides, I am still tending to the injured soldiers for whatever they'll be needing, which are usually the delivery of food and water, and additional comfort of pillows and blankets to what can be salvaged from the airfield itself. There aren't much for everyone, despite the news that there had been an amassed of donations from volunteers; and the general public who've dared to be an additional hand in tending to the wounded.

"(Y/N)," César calls for me, about the same time that I manage to take a quick peek at the opened windows that now show a pitch-black darkness outside. This time, as he draws closer to where I am, he had definitely washed his hands and arms already as he keeps his flight suit's sleeves folded until his elbows. He is holding on to his cloth helmet, goggles, white scarf and leather jacket, and aside from those, his flight suit is also battered in blood; that if he isn't here standing right now in front of me, I'll even consider that it is his.

"It's this late, isn't it?" I ask him before tucking the blanket properly on to one of the injured I am tending by now.

"Yes," he answers. And after allowing me to bid goodbye and telling the soldier to rest for tonight, the two of us head out of the remaining barracks before heading off somewhere where we can take some soup and water for dinner.

Seeing such a less ration, my stomach growls in hunger. Only by now did I realize that aside from a few portions of water to keep myself hydrated and moving throughout the day, I am yet to have any proper meal at all.

We then draw closer to where a few other soldiers, mechanics, ground officers, and even medics and civilian volunteers, are gathered in small made campfires to take comfort of its warmth in the almost dropping temperature of a December night.

As I am digging in with my small portion of dinner, César chuckles lightly and says, "Dahan-dahan lang. Alam kong gutom ka, pero hindi mo kailangan magmadali. Itong sa akin, sa iyo na rin."

I stop for a moment. "No. Sa iyo 'yan, and kailangan mo rin kumain."

He shakes his head before pouring the contents of his bowl to that of mine, surprising me with his action that I didn't manage to stop him at all. "Wala rin akong gana. Parang nalipasan na ako ng gutom kaya baka sumama lamang din ang tiyan ko."

"César." I pout, handing to him my bowl to have his portion, too.

He laughs much more before reaching out to tousle my hair. "Sa iyo na 'yan. At huwag mong isipin na itira; sayang kapag gano'n."

"Hindi naman kasi magiging sayang kung kinain mo na lang din," I mutter.

"Ayos nga lang talaga." He takes a box of cigarette and a matchbox from his pockets, and lights himself a stick. "Mayroon naman ako nito."

"Hmph. Kailan pa 'yan nakakabusog o naging kapalit na pantawid ng gutom?" I counter.

He didn't answer at that, but a ghost of a smile appears on his handsome features. Both of us are then envelop in the sudden silence despite the early chaos of the entire place, with a few mutters from the others and the crackle of the fire. Later on, after taking a huff or two, César speaks up another time and says, "I've received new orders. Magdadala ako ng eroplano pabalik ng Batangas bukas."

I halt from eating once again, and suddenly, it seems so hard to swallow the few spoonsful of the soup by now. I shudder at the prospect of something bad happening with this latest assignment, and all I manage to say is, "Oh."

"At dahil tinanggap ko 'yong assignment, nagawa ko rin makipagkasundo kay Kapitan Villamor na makakabalik ako ng Maynila kaagad para sa kasal natin, at kagaya rin ng sinabi niya sa akin... no aerial engagements against the enemies for me," he adds.

"Is that supposed to assure me?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

He smiles sheepishly. "Hindi lang ikaw ang humahadlang sa akin. Maging si Kapitan Villamor na rin."

"Then, kailangan ko pasalamatan si Kapitan Villamor tungkol doon," I say and smile back at him.

"No need. Sa palagay ko, masyadong selfish na nga 'yong decision niya na iyon eh. Na parang hindi kaya ng konsensiya ko na 'yong ibang miyembro ng Sixth Pursuit Squadron ay nais din makatakas sa nangyayaring digmaan, tapos itong sa akin... presented on a silver platter for me to just accept running away then." He sighs heavily and takes the last huff of smoke before throwing off the cigarette stick, eyeing then my bowl before placing his leather jacket onto my shoulders. "If you're done, let's head off somewhere kung saan tayo pwede makapagpahinga at makatulog. It's getting quite cold."

"Ah, yes." I then follow after him, holding his jacket close to my frame with one hand and heading on to where we can return our bowls and cups, bidding thanks to the one who've recovered that of ours.

As we search for some shelter tonight, he reaches out to twine his fingers with that of mine and I instantly draw closer to him. On our search, we come across the airfield's chapel, left standing amidst the rest of the destruction. Of course, it is not spared from the many others to be converted into a makeshift hospital; but compared to the barracks, there are fewer victims here to where other non-injured personnel also choose to take refuge for the cold night.

It is my first time to be here in this chapel, seeing then the well-furnished retablo featuring the crucified Jesus on the middle, flanked then by the image of the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph. The chapel is lighted by countless candles, warming the place and casting a soft glow.

The two of us cautiously make it to the front, too close to be just a few feet away from the altar itself. And despite both of us appearing bloody with our clothes, and the flooring and the wall to where we sit and lean on, respectively, are cold, being close to each other is also an acceptable way to share one another's warmth. To add, César draws me closer against him that I am almost leaning my ear against his chest and we hold on to each other.

"César?" I softly call for him.

"Hmm?"

"Nagawa mo bang makatawag sa mga magulang mo kanina?"

"Bago kita hanapin kanina. Nakausap ko sila saglit. Sinabi ko na nandito ka, at 'yong pagpunta ko ng Batangas. Hindi rin nagtagal ang pag-uusap namin. Madami-dami rin ang nakapila para makatawag."

I nod and cling to him much more. A part of me needs to be assured that he made the call; or perhaps, it had been my guilty conscience that I've left his parents behind when they've asked me yesterday not to do so. It feels like I also owe them something.

He sighs heavily and rests his hand against my waist, causing me to look up at him slightly to see what causes him to stop. I notice him staring then at the retablo, watching how the shadows dance as caused by the lighted candles onto the icons. He suddenly asks me the next, "Four days na lang, ano? 'Yong kasal, I mean."

"Oh." I know that it is coming, but probably not that soon by now. "Yes."

He smiles softly and a few seconds later, he chuckles.

"Ano na naman 'yang iniisip mo at natawa ka na naman bigla?" I inquire.

César clears his throat, and though he stops laughing, his smile only widens the next. "Napaisip lang din ako na parang kahapon lamang tayo nagkakilala. Tapos ngayon magiging asawa na kita. Ang bilis lang ng panahon. Tapos hindi rin magtatagal at magkakaroon na rin tayo ng mga anak."

I bite my lower lip. "César..."

"'Wag mo sabihin na hanggang ngayon hindi pa rin sumasagi sa isipan mo ang tungkol doon?"

"Hindi sa ganoon. Alam ko naman na doon din talaga patungo, pero... dapat ba natin pag-usapan ang tungkol doon, lalo na ngayon na may digmaan?"

"Malapit na tayong ikasal, at kailan pa natin pag-uusapan ang tungkol doon? Pagkatapos pa ng digmaan?"

I stare at him this time, catching his attention as he looks at me in return. I can hint something in his eyes that I didn't know will be so evidently present to be reflected now, and even if he didn't say the words exactly, I know what it is. Fear.

It's like he is trying to tell me that he is afraid that it is only him hopeful of a future beyond tonight. That he is afraid that in the end of it all, it will only be just plans and nothing more. That he is definitely asking me to allow him this moment of assurance. That, perhaps, in a different life, it could all happen. That such dreams are not just limited by this reality we have right now.

I gulp in hard before leaning my head against his chest another time, fearful that I'll not be able to hide away my emotions by now. I bite my lower lip and blink whatever painful tears will be there. "Alright... Anong gusto mong pag-usapan natin tungkol sa hinaharap?"

He breathes out heavily, almost in relief. "Iniisip ko na kung magkakaroon tayo ng anak na lalaki... sana hindi magmana sa akin. Na makulit at matigas ang ulo at walang ibang inisip gawin kung hindi laging pinapag-alala 'yong mga taong mahal niya sa buhay."

"Natural lamang sa bata ang maging makulit at maging matigas ang ulo. At kahit wala naman silang gawin, mapatama man o mali, lagi namang mag-aalala ang mga taong nagmamahal sa kanila." My fingers lightly closed into a tight fist against the coarseness of his flight suit now marred with dried blood.

"Sa tingin mo ba kakayanin ng puso mo ang laging mamroblema sa kakulitan at katigasan ng ulo niya?"

"Mukha namang malaki-laki na ang baon kong pasensya. Pero paniguradong hindi ko rin siya matitiis. Lalo na kung magiging kamukha mo. Tapos ipapangalan natin siya sa iyo. Para talagang 'Junior' siya."

He scoffs. "Siguro darating ang panahon na maiilang siya kapag ganoon, pero mukhang buong buhay naman na ako ang maiilang."

I swallow hard. "Bakit naman? Ayaw mo ba sa pangalan na 'César'?"

"Para lamang ako hindi matawag na 'Junior', kaya sinuggest ni Papa na lagyan ng 'César'. Kung hindi, 'Fernando Jr.'."

"Hindi mo naman na-explain kung bakit ka maiilang."

"Well, I think I'll be quite uncomfortable na marinig ang pangalan ko kapag pinagalitan mo siya." He laughs lightly, almost deviously, to my ears, as his hand slightly squeezes my side. "At hindi ka ba maiilang na banggitin ang pangalan namin kapag ginagawa natin iyon."

I instantly smack him against his chest, causing him to laugh much more, and I bury my blushing face against him. "If... If that's the case, then 'César' will be his second name. Kailangan magkaroon siya ng ibang first name..."

"That's what I am meaning to tell you early on."

"You could've just said so at once..."

"Akala ko naman sasagi rin sa isipan mo 'yon." His arms then surround around me. "At kapag nagkaroon naman tayo ng anak na babae, we could name her 'Lilia'."

"Lilia?" I inquire as my voice is almost muffled.

"Since lily is your favorite flower. At katulad ng bulaklak na iyon, there's no doubt that she'll be very beautiful and be very much loved." He then leans his lips on the crown of my head, almost feather-like for me to feel it. "Like her mother."

I sigh and close my eyes, wanting to be lulled by his voice and warmth and the strength that his presence here with me offers. "Hmm... It's too good to be true."

"It's much closer to become a reality now than you actually think," he says.

Totoo na malapit na nga mangyari ang lahat ng iyon dahil nalalapit na rin ang ating kasal, I think. Pero, César, hanggang kailan ka nandito sa tabi ko? Hanggang kailan ka nandiyan kapag kailangan ko? Natatakot akong sanay na akong lagi kang nandiyan, at hindi ko alam ang gagawin ko kapag nawala ka...

* * *

Both of us are up early in the morning, almost an hour before dawn itself, and we're already reporting back to our duty. In the process, we are given a change of clothes—a new medic's uniform for me, and a spare flight suit for César. Along with it, I also received a new assignment for me: I am to be transferred to Nichols Airfield, since it is heavily bombarded compared to that of Zablan, there are more people in need of being looked out there and to add that a number of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron is to be assigned there instead.

I know that, when César heard of it, he wants to object. Because everyone knows that it is the target of the Japanese here in Manila. However, he didn't speak about it, knowing fully that even he is heading on to quite a battle himself. After all, I just need to be somewhere far from the targets which are the runways and hangars.

By this time, the sky is quite clear without any presence of enemy planes in the horizon. Some will say that it is the calm before the storm.

César scoffs as we draw closer to where their planes are parked with mechanics waiting for them to start-up. He says, "Ironic that I am to leave you alone just before our wedding."

I then face him and reach out to hold his hands. "Well, kung talagang magiging asawa ako ng isang fighter pilot, kailangan ko maging handa that my life will be ruined by my husband's."

He smiles. "At handa ka ba talaga?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Sobra-sobra ba kapag sinabi ko na I want to suffer with you?"

At that, he laughs.

"B-Bakit ka tumatawa?" I flush and pout, suddenly embarrassed.

He shakes his head. "H-Hindi sa ganoon. I just love that about you, that's all. Pero... may pakiramdam ako na hangga't nandito ka, kahit na magkalayo tayo at minsan ay pakiramdam ko na mag-isa lamang ako... I'll definitely not feel like it."

"César... pinangako ko na lagi akong nasa tabi mo. Hindi nga lang physically, but I'll always be with you... until death decides otherwise."

"I suppose you have. And I know that much already." He lets go off my hand, reaches out to touch my cheek, sighs heavily and adds, "What a plot twist you are, (Y/N)."

I bite my lower lip, and before I know it, he pulls me close to him, kissing me deeply and passionately. Almost a public display of affection but right now, I don't care. I cling to him, wanting this moment to last much longer, but I know that it is limited.

It feels like a long time already when both of us pull away, and his arms are immediately around me as he breathes in heavily against my neck.

I close my eyes. "César, you are my home."

He smiles against my skin and mutters, "I know. And I love you, (Y/N). I want you to remember that."

I do. And will always do.

And I swear, his arms really feel like home.

* * *

Teaser for the next chapter:

"Naiintindihan mo na ba ngayon?"
"I... I think so," I stammered.
[...] "For that, I can wait as long as you need," he added. "I just hope that when you make your decision, your answer will be me."
I gulped in hard before countering, "Yeah, me, too. I hope that you are my answer, too."

* * *

A/N: Vote, comment and share! Whatever you do means a lot to me, and I am really wishing for some feedback! Nine chapters remaining!!! T_T I am starting to feel sad and nostalgic about the time that I've been writing the story premises, and now, looking back at it, I am proud and happy. :>

A few list of notes to share!
1. As mentioned from the previous chapter, there's only one recorded aerial battle on 10 December 1941: it was the one that happened about lunch. At 11:30, the Sixth Pursuit Squadron were starting to eat lunch at Zablan Airfield when a Japanese Zero came roaring low and strafed the P-26s and Stearman biplane trainers. Two parked P-26s were strafed and lost. Capt. Villamor dived behind a parked truck; and Lt. Juliano dropped into a foxhole filled with mechanics. He grabbed a machinegun and squeezed the trigger but unfortunately, it was not loaded. He made a final dash for his P-26s, found his plane unscathed and climbed into the cockpit. He signaled to a mechanic in a foxhole to come and crank the engine starter. More Zeros were diving on the field and the mechanic would not budge. Angry, Lt. Juliano hand on his .45 caliber pistol, and the mechanic ran to the P-26s, started the engine and jumped back into his foxhole. Capt. Villamor, Lt. Jose Gozar, Lt. Geronimo Aclan and Lt. Alberto Aranzaso were able to take-off after Lt. Juliano.
2. Why does the Sixth Pursuit Squadron seems to be transferred to different locations in the span of just a few days? Strange, right? I also have this question when I was researching the squadron's movements for the first few days of the war. They were in Batangas when the war broke out; that same day, some of them were called to report in Zablan then to Clark with their available planes while the rest stayed in Manila. The following day, those from Clark returned to Manila to be greeted with an aerial battle. Then, they were to be sent back to Batangas. So, what was really behind such too many movements? We could only guess, as the reason wasn't even explained by Col. Villamor on his book They Never Surrendered. My wild guess was that, with how the airfields in Manila (Zablan, Nichols and Nielson) were heavily bombarded, more able men were needed to be there to help with the evacuation, gathering and whatsoever. In short, ground field work. With very few planes but too many airmen, those unable to have a hold of a plane needed to also get moving; hence, the squadron were divided in numbers as there were to stay in Manila and others in their base of Batangas.

Chapter title: Spoiler. Not a spoiler alert, but in aviation, it is part of the wing which decreases lift or airspeed itself to help in preparing an aircraft to the proper configuration for landing. For the chapter, it was like a reminder for everyone that there were also quiet moments in war that both sides were given a short moment of peace and rest. However, like a spoiler does, it is only to help with preparing for what is to happen next. For flying, it is the crucial work of landing; and for the Reader, César and the rest of the forces at that time, the war is just beginning.

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