The position of an imaginary sun in a solar day of exactly four (4) hours, behind the real sun in February and in advance of the real sun in November.

* * *

To be honest, due to everything being part of a dreamscape, I do not feel some sort of homesickness despite the recent deployment in Batangas, which is definitely kilometers away from the first few dreams I have been set all in Manila. Perhaps, it hadn't been that dreary, especially with the knowledge that César is with me—and it seems like home is really not a place, but a person.

Life and routine in Batangas resemble that of Zablan. I do not know how many weeks had passed since that last dream is to this, but I have this inkling feeling right now that the transition, despite being quite a rush for the transfer of troops and planes and everything, had been smooth. After all, aside from the location alone and a little on the downside of the provincial ambiance than that of the bustling city, it all seems like we're back in Manila.

Clara and a few other colleagues of ours assigned to be part of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron's medical team remain together. The women, of course, have a separate barracks than the others, and it is a little bit smaller than the ones we have back in Zablan due to our fewer number. And despite the hundreds of men part of the squadron, with a very small number of planes available to fly, there are definitely not much for us to be in need of. Well, unless accidents happen and whatever else beyond.

Mock dogfights continue, and become much more prevalent and intense that with a fewer number of people present in the airfield, movements and scoldings for close-calls during training spread much faster among the ranks. And as I dread hearing another encounter of César to such a situation, thankfully, it seems like he had learned his lessons the first time and let the others have a taste of the scoldings and suspensions themselves. And in times that dogfight trainings are dismissed; it is replaced with intensive ground training to keep themselves in check for any emergencies in the future.

However, despite that and the two of us having to deal with living in separate quarters, it didn't mean that we no longer have any time for one another. We often manage to sneak away from others whenever we have some free time, and that during weekends, we completely have one another as company.

Just days after settling in Batangas, it takes me by surprise to be invited by César out of the base that first weekend. It is usual, just like back in Zablan, for most of the soldiers to leave the barracks for the weekends, unless they are scheduled to remain on-duty for a few given days. Hence, on that day, based from what my memory bank remembers, he took me out for a date and then spent the weekend to some nearby inn. To the point that we've been quite a frequent guest of the said inn, that we spent times together even during the weekdays, whenever things aren't that busy in camp, leading then for the innkeeper herself to offer us to take one of the rooms as apartment instead. And having said that, in less than two weeks, we managed to find ourselves an apartment, somehow.

The last memory that this dream version of me has is all about an apparent discussion I had with César two days prior.

"This coming Monday 'yong scheduled roster mo to be part of the mock dogfight, ano?" I asked him.

His fingertips were trailing the bared skin of my back, following the curvature of my spine almost absentmindedly. He answers, "Yes. I promised not to do anything stupid."

I had my head pressed against his chest, my ear listening attentively to the steady beating of his heart; a hand of mine onto his shoulder as my thumb drew lazy circles against his skin. "It's fine to do something stupid; not just one that will get you killed. Sabi ng iba, may mga stupid decisions that are actually the saving grace."

He scoffed. "Sino naman nagsabi sa iyo no'n?"

"Other pilots out there?"

"Hmm..."

I pushed myself up slightly to match his eyes, looking at me with the same overwhelming affection and desire as always. "Hey. Hindi ba totoo 'yon?"

He smiled softly. "Totoo. In a sense. Pero para mauwi sa point na doing something stupid to save you in a situation... it only happens if one is really in some grave danger. That stupidity is the survival instinct then."

I blinked. "Oh!"

César then reached out to touch my cheek, drawing my face closer to his for him to plant a tender kiss on my lips. "At alam ko na kapag 'yon ang nangyari, mag-aalala ka. Alam kong nag-aalala ka na nga every time that I have a flight, so the only thing that I can do is to avoid doing something stupid that will make you worry much more."

I sigh heavily as I report a little later than the usual routine to the medical bay. I am to take the second shift; hence, I am not assigned with the pre-flight check-ups or even be an on-site medic on the day itself that César's part of the mock dogfight. As our schedules are also switched routinely, today had me overseeing to post-flight check-ups instead. I am used with the expectations of hearing before and after the flights; always praying that the same number of planes I've heard taking-off will be equal to the ones who'll be returning. And I wait for the pilots part of the mock dogfight to arrive at the medical bay.

It didn't take long for them to arrive, busying most of us with the usual proceedings; until the last who've made their attendance known after their training did I realize that two pilots didn't arrive yet.

"(Y/N), 'di ba kasama si Tenyente Basa sa dogfight training ngayon?" a much senior colleague of mine inquires after reviewing the remaining records in need to be received for post-flight check-up. "Maging si Tenyente Mondigo kasama niya, 'di ba?"

"Ah, sa pagkakaalam ko po," I answer, almost stammering as I also do not have any idea what causes for the two to be absent. I am already standing from my seat when I suggest, "Pwede ko po sila hanapin at sabihan na hinahanap po sila para sa post-flight check-up."

My senior agrees and requests it from me to do so. Before I know it, I am out of the medical bay, wanting to do some walking around base than just the mere fact of having to search for the two's whereabouts.

Most of the time, César had been active whenever it comes to being in the medical bay. Especially when he can see me; like some excited kid hoping to just catch a glimpse of me. All the same reasons for him to be quite demanding in wanting me to always be the one to do his check-ups, whether I am to be assigned for the pre-check or post-check or be on-site or at the medical bay. I'll be honest to say that there are few times when he also lies about some headache or stomachache and just tell me that he's missing me. No matter how cliché it can be, he knows that he'll always be receiving a smack out of me for making me worry.

As the Batangas Airfield is smaller than Zablan Airfield, it is quite easy to figure out where the two I am searching for could be. In one far away hangar, which didn't house any plane or aircraft materials just to be a vacant storage due to the few aircraft available in the fleet, most of the members of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron and mechanics had shifted it to be some large entertainment hall. After all, everyone find a place to unwind themselves from the pressures of trainings and flight itself; that there are more of them here than anywhere else in the camp. If there's a place that those two will definitely be in outside of the barracks and the other hangars, there is no doubt that it will be here.

And I didn't need to see each face to figure out where most of the attention is thrown at. One part of the hangar had been playing cards, billiards and darts; but the current focus of most of the people gathered here had been thrown to one in particular. Making my way through the crowd, barely batting an eye at me as their focus is pinned on to what they are watching now, I realize that César himself is in the middle of it. Not to mention that even Antonio is there, sitting way too close to the game as an arbiter for the chess game that César is playing to against Lt. Salvador Manlunas—yes, the dream version of the man who served as a flight steward in our promotion flight.

"Ah, (Y/N)," Geronimo greets me at once, noticing my presence. He is smoking a stick and holding on to a bottle of alcohol, despite it being quite too early in the day for a drink. Along with him had been Victor, who only opts for a smoke.

Smoking and alcohol are already a part of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron; that the area smells and reeks of it, one that I am already used to. It's just a little strange, somehow, that you'll expect them to be rather prim and prompt than anyone else.

"Anong ginagawa mo rito, (Y/N)?" Victor asks me before joking the next, "Mukhang nawawala ka at nakapasok ka sa lungga namin dito."

I incline my head to the on-going game. Anyone else are definitely so invested with watching, especially César, who has his back from where I am and now playing with the black chess pieces. "Hinahanap ko 'yong dalawa. Hindi sila sumipot sa medical bay para sa post-flight check-up nila. Daig pa sila ni Godofredo na nagawang magpakita bago tumungo rito."

The two turn to where Godofredo is right now, smoking himself just a few feet away from us, standing next to Manuel as they murmur among themselves. I can hint what they are talking about, as all others do so talk about their bets of who will be the one winning.

"Ah, nakalimutan siguro ni Godoy. Siguro akala niya nakapag-post-flight check-up na 'yong dalawa. Or kung hindi man, binalewala niya na lang din na hindi sabihan sila o sabihan kayo na nandito sila imbis na nasa medical bay," replies Geronimo.

I then turn to where the chess game is going on. I realize that it seems like both César and Antonio are recently out of flight—though not so recent as the last plane landed roughly about two or three hours ago already, and roughly half an hour since the last pilot had been checked at the medical bay all due to the post-flight briefings—as both of them had already abandoned their cloth helmets, goggles and leather jackets; and despite the still properly tied scarf around César's neck, Antonio's is already unwind. "So... kanina pa sila nandito?"

"Don't get us wrong, (Y/N)," Victor answers. "Alam namin na gustong-gusto ka makita kaagad ni César, and trust us. Nahatak siya sa laro na 'yan; kahit sabi niya na isang game lang tapos aalis na siya."

"Pang-ilan na ba ito ngayong kay Salvador?"

"Pang-pito?"

"Teka. Hindi ba pang-walo na?" counters Geronimo.

I frown at that. Pang-pito o pang-walo, whatever.

"Well, you see, (Y/N)," Geronimo adds after he and Victor finally agreed at the number of previous games. "Lahat kasi kami rito may pagka-competitive. Of course, thankful kami na may star player ang PAAC against sa OSP, COC at sa infantry ng PA. Pero, among us, malamang lagi kaming dehado kapag hindi si César 'yong ka-team sa basketball. Kaya nayayaya si César sa kahit anong sports para lang malaman kung saan siya mahina."

"But the joke's on us," Victor continues with a light chuckle. "Billiards, darts, cards. Tinuruan pa nga sa ibang mga laro sa baraha, pero parang hindi beginner's luck. Kaya ito ngayon. Chess. Huling hirit, pero mukhang wala talaga eh. Pang-matalino ang chess, and knowing César..."

"'Yong pito nga kanina saglitan lang din sa kanya eh! Anong 'knowing César' pa diyan?!"

They say that if the Philippine Army found a celebrated legion out of PAAC, and that PAAC has the Sixth Pursuit Squadron as the envy of them, then the Sixth had its poster boy out of César as more than just one of the aces but definitely a prodigy, too.

"'Oy! Tangina," Salvador states with evident surprised in his features.

"Checkmate," announces César, ending the game with another win for him.

In an instant, the gathered men had been roused to a series of cheers and laughter. Even Geronimo and Victor suddenly clap one another's shoulders as there had been a mixture of shouting for those who've made their bets be drawn, just as there's a few others who've been a little disappointed for how much they definitely lost. From one side, Godofredo and Manuel draw closer to the chess table before announcing like drunkards that César was undisputedly the Sixth's poster boy, laughing and clicking their bottles with one another. Antonio, previously bored and intent with watching the game, had been lifted up with spirit as he stands from his seat and moves behind César to give him a pat on the shoulders. Everyone is in complete riot, and I am like some fish caught in the middle of ecstatic ones in a huge net.

But, I guess, it only lasts that long for the two I am hunting for. When Antonio looks around for a second, laughing, our eyes meet, and I realize him flushing before gulping in hard and tapping César. Then, the latter finally turns to where I am as well, looking quite guilty for how I've caught up with them.

* * *

Thankfully, I didn't need to drag their asses back to the medical bay just to deal with their post-flight medical check. Just as how briefings are made before and after flight, medical examinations for training are also screened the same—before to ensure that the pilot is fit to fly, and after to take note of what could've changed them in flight, mostly psychological and very often of fatigue, if one will say so.

I click my tongue as I handle that of César's; Clara, despite being assigned for the pre-flight check-up and for other duties afterwards, had taken that of Antonio's, and definitely dragged him to a table by his ear. I guess César is quite lucky that I am not doing the same thing to him. After ensuring to take note of his blood pressure and temperature, and questioning him about post-flight inquiries, I say, "'Wag mo naman abusuhin 'yong authority mo na 'di na sumunod sa protocol just because you earned the nickname as "Poster Boy". Alam mo naman na kaya ginagawa ito dahil kailangan."

César, still looking too guilty, bites his lower lip, had already removed his scarf and unbuttoned his flight suit—for their flight suits are zippered up from the waist to the chest, before being belted and buttoned to the neck. He asks me, "Kanino mo naman narinig 'yong title na 'yan?"

"Kay Geronimo at Victor, at in-announced din kanina nila Godofredo at Manuel noong nanalo ka. Practically, everyone's saying it; kaya paano ko naman hindi malalaman?" I answer.

He then mirrors my movements as he remains seated across from me and his arms are folded on the table between us. "I have no plans in living up with that title."

"And yet, more pictures of you are taken, too."

"It just so happens that I am the active one."

"Too active, I guess. Na kinakalimutan mo na kung ano ang protocol."

He reaches out to touch my hand, focusing then on my hands as he plays with my knuckles and fingers. He sighs heavily. "Pinagtutulungan nga nila ako sa mga challenges na binabato nila sa akin. Hindi ko alam kung anong mapapala nila sa mga iyon." As if remembering something, he scoffs and smiles, "Well, sabi rin kasi nila, my hands are full of you if I am out of the plane. I think... nagseselos sila?"

I blush and gulp in hard before looking around us for a second, seeing that no one seems to mind us conversing at all this way. From the farther side that my eye can hint, I notice Antonio and Clara bickering in hushed tones themselves. Returning my focus to César, I scold him, "Shh! Tumahimik ka nga. Nasa publikong lugar pa rin tayo kaya—"

And shamelessly, he leans closer to kiss me at once. It had been a quick and light one, but enough for me to turn into a tomato when he pulls away and I instantly cover my mouth in surprised. He laughs as he brushes his thumb against his lower lip and closing the distance between us still, he whispers, "I am just proving to whom my hands are, indeed, outside of flying, my love."

* * *

A/N: Vote, comment and share! Whatever you do means a lot to me, and I am really wishing for some feedback! Spent last Sunday until yesterday up north all the way to Laoag, and it had been raining cats and dogs! Hope everyone is doing well!

A few list of notes to share!
1. Post-flight things. Just as there are pre-flight things, there's also some post-flight things. Though it is much shorter and lesser than the pre-flight ones, post-flights still include briefings and documentations to deal with. One of the documentations had been one called as "Aircraft Maintenance Technical Log", wherein pilots need to record the aircraft's tachometer and hobb's time for any phase inspections, and if there's anything that they're to report for the mechanics to check themselves. If there's a problem, the aircraft will be regarded as "squawk" to be overlook.
2. Salvador Manlunas was earlier introduced as a flight steward in their promotion flight; but the man himself was a graduate of PAAC's flying school Class 39, the same as Jose Gozar. More information about him would be revealed on the next chapters.
3. Smoking and alcohol are, of course, not allowed during flight. But there was no limitation about it concerning pilots; except for that about alcohol's bottle to throttle rule and the no smoking area close to an aircraft with a very flammable fuel. In my experience, since I am not a smoker, my flight instructors often have a stick themselves before and after flight; and of course, when it comes to drinking, it is usually everyday and often starts as early as an hour since the closing flight is done just to follow the rules... or not so? 👀
4. OSP is the Offshore Patrol, the pre-cursor before the establishment of the Philippine Navy we know today.
5. COC or Command Operations Center is a subsidiary of the Philippine Army before and during World War II.

Chapter title: Mean Sun. The rest of the chapter deals with how things seem to be going on for the Sixth Pursuit Squadron, César and the Reader in their adjustment in the Batangas Airfield, and it almost appears like an illusion of what is truly bound to happen next and what they are expecting to come.

Follow me on twitter @23meraki for more updates and trivia. ;)
#CFBArtificialHorizon