The code word used to designate a distress phase, which is a situation wherein there is a reasonable certainty that an aircraft and its occupants are threatened by grave and immediate danger or require immediate assistance. It is the third and final phase declared in an emergency where a Search and Rescue (SAR) function is absolutely necessary.

* * *

Even though I told César earlier on that I'll definitely be able to return back to sleep, I realize that I still somehow managed to do so. For some reasons, I almost think that I am only dreaming or that I may be waking up to the afterlife to figure out that the entire world somehow seems to be too quiet.

With the roaring of planes overhead, bombs dropping from the sky and exploding, and the chaos that is going on the early dead hours of today... it is definitely strange to find some comfort with sleep and wake up in an almost normal peaceful day. Gone are the planes and the bombs, but the people and the busy streets are definitely right there.

And if it isn't for the strangeness of the room now, I'll actually think of yesterday as just one very long nightmare. However, it isn't. The decor of César's room is once more a reminder that the war that the Philippines and the United States had been dreading for against Japan finally commenced.

To add with all of it, César is already up himself. Compared to last night and the early hours of today that we've talked during the night bombings, he is out of bed as he slowly and quietly moves from one part of the room to the other. He is already dressed up in the white dress shirt tucked in the khaki trousers of his formal uniform. Strangely, too, he is wearing his boots, already properly tied up. Currently, he is working on his neck tie as he stands in front of a mirror.

From where I lie on the bed, I can see his almost unreadable expression and his fingers deftly working on with the all too familiar knot of his tie. On a rather different day, I'll definitely want to do the work myself, and be teased later on how slow I work that he'll find himself late—but despite such teasing, he'll still want me to do it for him.

I don't know if he had already sensed me waking up, but I didn't make any indication yet as I remain unmoving underneath the blankets and just watch him. Strangely wishing right now that it is still not yet time for him to leave.

But with the brightness outside that transcends through the windows, it is very evident that we'll just be fooling ourselves to deny the things that must be done right now.

After ensuring the perfectly knotted neck tie, he takes the outer uniform coat that is properly folded on a chair just next to where the mirror is. The shuffle of his clothes are the only things that accompany the two of us right now, before he proceeds in buttoning it all up and completing the look with a matching belt. The collar pins glimmer against his reflection on the mirror, the epaulettes outlining his shoulders, and the wing badge that denotes his most celebrated achievement to be interred as one of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron, the best of the best that the Philippine Army Air Corps has.

He seems to have noticed me awake already that as he brushes his uniform for any non-existent dirt, with him still staring at his reflection on the mirror, he suddenly smiles and says, "Good morning, (Y/N)."

I flush, almost getting embarrassed on how I may have looked while looking at him... or perhaps I am ogling him without me even knowing that it is what I am actually doing in the first place. As I draw the blanket closer to me, almost up until my chin, I ask, "You've known? All this time?"

"Hmm... Yes?" He chuckles lightly before sitting on the vacant side of the bed that he occupied last night, and adds, "You have a habit of stretching out your arms to my side of the bed. As if inaalam mo kung nakahiga pa ako, at kapag naramdaman mo na wala ako, madalas nagigising ka na rin kaagad."

Hindi ko alam na may ganoon akong habit...

He reaches out to me, brushing then the messy strands of my hair that covers my face, tucking them away as his knuckles caress my cheek. "Hindi ko pala nagawang maitanong sa iyo kagabi. Ayos ka na ba ngayon?"

"Ah!" I slightly widen my eyes, remembering that I am actually not feeling well yesterday that he insists that I remain here with his parents than to come with him. And only now that he did mention it that I remember that instance. Perhaps, my mind tends to forget about it later on.

He then presses a hand against my forehead. "Parang katulad din kahapon. Hindi ka naman linalagnat. Not to mention that last night, mukhang ayos ka naman. Gusto ko sana isipin na nakapagpahinga ka kahapon, pero alam kong pinag-alala lamang kita hangga't hindi ako dumadating para sa hapunan."

"Medyo may mga times na nag-relapse 'yong ill feeling na 'yon kahapon habang naghihintay kami sa iyo; though hindi kasing lala no'ng umaga kahapon na masakit ang ulo ko talaga. At ngayon, gaya nga ng sabi mo... parang mas maayos ang pakiramdam ko." I sigh heavily and slowly close my eyes at the warm feeling of his touch. "No matter how cliché it may sound like, ikaw 'ata ang lunas ko, César."

"Not much of a cliché. Pakiramdam ko, we are full of clichés." He laughs another time. "And hindi lang naman ikaw ang may pakiramdam na gano'n, (Y/N). Kapag nakikita kita at habang kasama kita, parang siguradong-sigurado ako na kaya kong harapin ang lahat-lahat. O, 'di ba? Cliché na naman?"

I smile. "At kapag umalis ka ngayon, lalo na ngayon na hindi maipagkakaila ang tungkol sa nangyayaring digmaan... I'll definitely feel much more terrible."

His fingers return to brushing my hair the next, and by the time he speaks up again, worry is very evidently audible in his voice, "It will be very easy to say na kaya masama ang pakiramdam mo ay dahil sa mga nangyayari. Pero ano ba talaga ang mga nararamdaman mo? Baka mamaya mas malala na pala iyan."

I breathe out heavily and slowly open my eyes, realizing at once that he is staring at me, and now, I do so in return. This time, with the seriousness of his question and seeing the worry in his eyes, I try to remember everything that I've been feeling since yesterday all until last night, and strangely, try to hint the oddity of what I may be feeling right now. "Well, aside sa mga nasabi ko na sa iyo kahapon na nahihilo ako, tapos 'yong parang pagod na pagod ako, at medyo mabigat ang pakiramdam ko... Na sinabi ko rin sa iyo na baka dahil nga sa puyat na kakadating lamang natin ng Maynila mula Batangas, tapos 'yong umattend tayo ng football game and all that... And well..."

He clears his throat. "Right. Ganoon pa rin ba ngayon?"

Blushing lightly as my hands slowly curl into tight fists holding on to the blankets, I reply, "Well, medyo masakit pa rin ang katawan ko and a tingling feeling at the back of my head? Also, parang sisipunin ako ngayon. Kakaiyak ko ito kahapon tapos nag-aalala nga rin ako kaya hindi rin ako makakain ng maayos. Hindi lang naman ako, maging sila Tito at Tita, ganoon din." I then gain the courage to pull my hand away from the blankets for a moment and reach out for his wrist. "Grabe ang pag-aalala din nila sa iyo, César. Kaya hindi lang sa akin ka dapat mag-alala, maging sa kanila rin."

He bites his lower lip and sighs heavily. "Alam ko, at na-guguilty na nga rin ako tungkol doon. Pero anong magagawa ko kung hindi ang sabihan sila na ginagawa ko ang lahat para manatiling buhay araw-araw para sa kanila? Para sa iyo?" His hand then takes my hand holding him and lightly gives me a squeeze. "Pero mabalik tayo sa iyo. Kapag mas lumala pa itong nararamdaman mo, magpatingin ka na sa doktor. Alam kong hindi magiging maganda ang kalagayan sa ospital at baka hindi ka rin maasikaso kaagad, pero alam kong makakagawa ka ng paraan para malaman kung ano ba talaga ang nangyayari sa iyo."

"César, wala lang ito panigurado. Siguro kailangan ko lang maging busy para hindi ko maalala ang nangyayaring kaguluhan, dahil kahapon naman, noong tumutulong ako sa mga gawaing bahay dito, parang mas gumaan ang pakiramdam ko kaya nga nagawa ko pa ang mga iyon. At huwag mong bawiin na pinipigilan mo pa rin akong pumunta ng ospital para tumulong."

"Alam kong hindi kita mapipigilan. Pero manatili ka sa PGH tapos umuwi ka rin dito para magpahinga. 'Wag mong pilitin ang sarili mo sa kung anong nangyayaring kaguluhan doon. At 'wag na 'wag ka rin pupunta sa mga airfields. Mas delikado sa mga iyon at talagang 'yon nga ang priority na tinatarget ng mga Hapon. Additionally, I'll try to call here whenever makahanap ako ng panahon, at kahit medyo masyadong far-fetched, malamang susubukan ko rin na makaalis ng kampo."

I nod, knowing that contradicting him right now is not a very good idea. Or else, I'll definitely be hearing out of his parents that he had asked them to keep me caged in here.

César takes a quick look on his wristwatch and his brows furrow in disappointment. "I have to go now."

I gulp in hard and before he can even pull away at all, I surround my arms around his neck and draw him closer to kiss him, rather quite shamelessly. And he returns the aggression of the kiss, deepening it as he slips his tongue inside my mouth to kiss me passionately and fervently. His hands press against my bare back, almost pressing me against him, and I can feel that he didn't want to go the same way that I do.

However, both of us understand too well that staying here doing nothing and running away from our duties at this moment, despite not making much of a difference, will continue seeing ourselves in a country that we don't even want to live in at all. Especially not for our future.

* * *

It is true that it hurts letting him go; that despite the two of us letting the words of goodbye to hang in the air, and wave one another off with a smile, I know that genuinely, we're too close to tears. But he definitely can't do such a thing as he is to face his parents and head on to the battlefield himself, and I alone can do so for the two of us as I am left all alone in his room.

Immediately after he closes the door did my tears instantly fall without any constrains. I pull the blankets overhead, hiding my entire self underneath as I cover my mouth to keep my sobs to myself. They say that the only reason for leaving to hurt so much is because of love, and I can definitely attest that it is. I just didn't think that it will be this painful. That it will be like a stabbing one that actually didn't stop in just one strike.

To be honest, I want to be happy and excited of the next time that we are to see each other. After all, longing makes the heart grow fonder. But I don't think that it is applicable at this moment at all; especially when the chances of meeting once again is not just some fifty-fifty chance, but the percent of failing to see one another the next time is much of a higher probability.

Just imagining that he's heading off to a place that can be very well be known in the future as 'ground zero' of a denoted bomb is like just finding the needle of my prayers be answered in the middle of a haystack. It is like testing fate; that if it isn't God's will that he is to be part of the casualties of the explosion, then there are other plans for him. But... is that risk even worth it in the first place?

"Eh 'di ikaw na ang pinakatapat at pinakamasunurin na sundalo, César!" I flinch upon hearing the scream of his own mother, enough to make me stop crying for a second, to pull the blankets from my face, and to listen too closely at the adamant shout from outside of the room. "Kailan ka ba talaga nakinig sa akin, anak, ha?! Lagi kitang inaalala pero ni minsan ba inisip mo kung talaga bang ginusto ko ang ganitong buhay para sa iyo?!"

I wait, hoping to hear a reply back out of César perhaps, or even some words out of his father. But if ever there had been any, it is almost inaudible from within these walls.

"Please, César..." The crying is much more audible right now. "Anak, 'wag na. Tama na. 'Wag ka na umalis! Por favor!"

I close my eyes, feeling the onslaught of tears, and then cover my ears. I very much want to voice out the same thing. If I am able, I definitely had locked César up myself just to stop him from heading on. But then, I know that it is something that I'll hate myself. I am sure that I'll not like that version of myself, as it will feel like I've taken away César's freedom from him. And yet... Letting go and sacrifice go hand-in-hand as the highest form of love that we can give.

In the end, neither from César's parents nor I manage to stop the man himself from leaving. No one from us succeed in halting him on his way to his own death.

* * *

When the tears are finally gone and it seems like I have no more to squeeze out from my eyes, I finally realize that there is actually something I can do. And as César is not stopping me from doing that of my duty, then I'll definitely succeed out of something. Hence, I move out of the bed, fix myself up for the day and realize, upon checking the rest of the clothes that César had packed for the two of us, that he knew that he'll not win an argument against me that he did bring along that of my uniform, too.

However, by the time that I am out of the room and find his parents, who seems to be waiting for me, at the living room... I can bet that their encounter with César is definitely not a good one. Especially concerning that of his mother who is still crying as her hands fidget with the beads of her rosary. Ever since yesterday, she had been praying non-stop, and it is strange of me, for someone like me who've never been so religious at all, to find myself hopeful that it will be an effective remedy.

But to add to their many troubles, when they look at me with wide eyes in seeing how I am dressed... I think I should've left along with César.

"(Y/N)," his father is the first one to address me from where he sits next to his wife, definitely comforting her all this time.

"No," César's mother instantly remarks as she shakes her head and shakily moves away from her seat to immediately reach me at once. "No, no, no, no, no!" By the time that she does so, she holds me, her hands squeeze my upper arms and the rosary beads dig against my uniform's sleeve and to my skin. "Not you, too. (Y/N), please... 'Wag ka rin umalis, iha. I'm begging you."

I bite my lower lip and my eyes start to water at the sight of how distraught César's mother is. I always know that she is a beautiful woman, almost one will think that she is just César's older sister at all, but since yesterday, I seem to notice the marks of age that the outbreak of war had caused on her... and especially the knowledge that his son is to be on the frontlines of it all.

She instantly draws me to a tight embrace the next and cries almost uncontrollably. "Please, no. I can't lose you, too."

I don't know how to respond at once that I definitely look so hopeless in the presence of César's father when I match his stare, realizing that he is very much watching me than his own wife. And I notice at once that despite his indifference, rationality and calm nature—one of the many traits that his son inherited from him—he knows that he needs to be strong for his wife despite his own sorrows and objections.

He slowly shakes his head, and I know that there's nothing else I can do but to give up the fight. And for today, pray that prayers will definitely be enough.

* * *

Teaser for the next chapter:

I stop, bite my lower lip and bow my head at once, greeting, "G-Good morning po."
"You're very insistent, are you?" he inquires as he stares at me, and in doing so, it makes me wonder how good will the years be for César in the future for his own father to age like fine wine. "Kahapon ka pa nagtatangka na umalis."

* * *

A/N: Vote, comment and share! Whatever you do means a lot to me, and I am really wishing for some feedback! Back at home after five days in Clark for the instrument rating build-time, and it had been a whirlwind of simulator flying and learning once more. Incorporated all the things that I've previously learned with the VOR/RNAV lessons from interceptions, holding pattern entries, and the dreaded DME arc. 🫣 Last sim session had been an IR trip from Iloilo to Roxas to Bacolod 👀, and surprisingly, our flight instructor decided to add some snowfall over the station 🤣. And look at the long list of procedures and chart alone (There's at least three charts in need to be briefed—SID, STAR and Approach—in a usual IFR flight) 🥹, and the rough draft of computation.

A few list of notes to share!
1. For the rest of 9 December 1941, as mentioned from the previous chapter, Japanese continue bombing Iba, Clark and Nichols Field.
According to Teodoro Locsin from Some Free Press Pieces, "Bombers came at three in the morning from the northwest, and bombed Nichols Field. There was a blackout but the moon came up at about 10, lighting the way for bombers."
According to Louis Morton, a historian, "Thus, after one day of war, with its strength cut in half, the Far East Air Force had been eliminated as an effective fighting force. Of the modern combat aircraft, only 17 of the original 35 B-17's remained. Fifty-three P-40's and 3 P-35's had been destroyed, and an additional 25 or 30 miscellaneous aircraft (B-10's, B-18's, and observation planes) were gone. In addition, many of the planes listed as operational were heavily damaged. Installations at Clark and Iba were either burned out or badly hit. Total casualties for the day for the day were 80 killed and 150 wounded. The total cost tot he Japanese was 7 fighters."
The Sixth Pursuit Squadron at Manila met with the American fighter pilots left at Nichols Field before reporting back to Zablan Field.

Chapter title: DETRESFA. The last phase of a declared emergency, DETRESFA, means that the aircraft and its passengers are in imminent or grave danger that was in need of a Search and Rescue. With what both César and the Reader seemed to finally have decided on, they are prepared to continue on with their decisions despite what it may cost them. Not to mention that with what was going on the day after the start of war in the country, things are definitely just beginning to head for something worse than they've all prepared for.

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