n. a conversational hint that you have something personal to say on the subject but don't go any further—an emphatic nod, a half-told anecdote, an enigmatic 'I know the feeling'—which you place into conversations like those little flags that warn diggers of something buried underground: maybe a cable that secretly powers your house, maybe a fiberoptic link to some foreign country.

* * *

Ever since Goyo heard the news, he immediately ordered everyone to prepare for a journey in meeting Maestrong Sebio back at Kakarong; our group trailing the previous way we've took during our escape from the enemies. How ironic that we are heading straight to where we do not intend to return.

Two days of journey surely is enough for us to reach the boundaries of Kakarong. Before heading straight, Goyo sent his best men to scout Kakarong for any sign of enemies, fearful that we'll be caught into some trap. Everyone is already up even though it's just dawn; the creeping knowledge that we're still not safe surely hits everyone. One of the chosen was Isidro; that's why, before he left, he ordered me to keep a watchful eye on Goyo. After all, the latter is my mission in this game.

If I succeed on this one, I'll be rewarded. Just as the game had mentioned.

However, right after the meeting, when Isidro and a few others—namely the rest of the surviving members of the Seven Musketeers of Pitpitan—left, turning my attention then to where Goyo previously had been, he appears like he just vanished out of thin air. A second later he was there, and just after a few reminder from Isidro, he was gone. Just as easy as that and I've lost sight of him.

I sigh heavily and start tracking where he could have gone. After all, he is a weird man. Too strange, I suppose, but predictable for someone his age. Though we are close with our ages, it doesn't guarantee that I instantly know what he is thinking. First of all, he is a man; and second, he lives in this era where every male in my own does not have the same priority as he does early in the morning.

In the end, I give up and decide to ask anyone who comes along my way wherever he might be. I made a reason that I need to talk to him about something in order to easily get information about his whereabouts than be thoroughly questioned about why I am searching for him. Good thing that they get to agree into the same direction and I immediately find him by the river.

When I approach, it appears that he is clearly deep in thought not to realize my presence, which is good. I instantly hide behind a nearby tree and just watch his movements. I look from his face, no longer finding the sorrow, and then to the notebook he is holding. He appears to be writing down something, some journal as it appears to be? I can't quite remember him writing some journal before; somehow, I find it a change about something that I didn't know about him. Or perhaps I am not listening too well, really, with history that I didn't know that our heroes like to write journals of their own.

I watch him for a second as he looks on at the flowing river before returning back to whatever he is writing down. Finally, he tenses up a little and looks around. And his eyes settle onto me.

He frowns, displeased, that I am watching out for him this way. "Yung taga-Cruz Roja," he says with a heavy sigh.

I bite my lower lip for a second and move out of my hiding spot, drawing closer to him. I kick off my slippers by the riverside, pull my skirt a little as I try to keep my footing even and not to slip onto the rocks. The cold water touches my skin as I sink one foot first and then the other before reaching the large boulder where he is sitting on.

He moves away a little, but remains sitting as he keeps his journal and pencil close to him, just enough for me to have a seat of my own. He trails his eyes then onto the water, watching it flowing downstream. He is looking intently onto it that I can't help wonder what he is thinking about.

'Anong iniisip mo, Goyo?'

"Anong pakialam mo?" He asks and immediately turns to me.

I didn't realize that I've asked the question rather out loud.

"Anong pakialam mo sa iniisip ko?" He leans closer. "Sa nararamdaman ko? Maiintindihan mo ba kapag sinabi ko? At hindi tayo mag-kaibigan para tawagin mo akong 'Goyo' ng walang pahintulot ko."

I bite my lower lip as I breathe in and out deeply, and look intently at him. "Hindi ko buong-buo maiintindihan."

His frown deepens at that.

"Pero... kung kailangan mo ng makakausap, handa akong makinig. Kahit ano pa iyon."

"Hindi tayo magkaibigan."

"Hindi nga. Mas lalong wala akong karapatan na ipagkalat kung anuman ang magiging sikreto mo kung ganoon. Mas lalo kong pagkakaingatan na hindi ipagkalat. Sino ba ako para paniwalaan mo, di ba?"

He looks back at me with the same intensity that I do until we're so close to each other that we're breathing in the same air. "Sino ka nga ba, (Y/N), para paniwalaan ko kaagad?"

I remain on my place, fixated by his presence.

"Isang babae na bigla na lang sumulpot mula kung saan. Miyembro raw ng Cruz Roja, pero walang nakakaalam kung saan ka talaga galing. Dapat ba talaga kitang paniwalaan, (Y/N)?"

I flinch a little, bite my lower lip, and gulp in hard. I mumble, "Go—" I sigh heavily and correct myself, "Ginoong del Pilar..."

For a few seconds, he just looks at me before he sighs, pulls away and stands with his journal and pencil with him, causing me to look up at him and watch as how the sun's first ray seems to play shadows on his hair, appearing like some halo behind his head. "Pagkatapos mo dito magmuni-muni o magdasal, bumalik ka na sa kampo."

I watch him go back to the shore, not even minding to fold the hem of his already wet pants due to the running water.

"Iyon din ba ang ginagawa mo kanina dito?" I ask him, out of the blue, causing him to stop on his walk.

He turns to me with stoic eyes before turning away again, continuing on his walk. He replies, "Sigurado na alam mo ang pakiramdam na muntikan ka na mamatay, at may pamilya kang naghihintay sa iyo makauwi."

For unknown reasons, his words hit home to me. I know, for once, even though he is truly in question of who I am, he knows that all of them are here, fighting the war while being away from their respective families; he believes that it is the same thing for me. That distance separates all of us from our loved ones, and we can't do anything about it if we truly believed that this is the only way for us to give them a future that is free from this tyranny and war.

But, I am different from all of them. All of this is just a game for me. He and the people from here are surely dead for more than a hundred years already, and I am living in the present time that I've left behind. I don't know how to calculate the distance between this game and my real life. Like jumping from one dimension and then to another seems like the closest explanation I can have.

###

It had been decided for all of us to head on to Norzagaray in hopes to evade the Spaniards as we head further South. Everyone hoping to catch General Emilio Aguinaldo of Cavite's attention, who've been successful in every battle he waged in his province, freeing every town one by one.

Isidro told me to continue bearing Goyo's cold demeanor, especially now that another bombshell of a news drop right in front of his footsteps—his "Uncle L" was executed. I didn't delve in for more information; believing the conditions that knowing less will push me as far away as possible from disaster.

The following day, we arrive at Matiktik where friendly people welcomed us. They offered to give us shelter for the night, hot food to eat, and even few clothings after bathing by a nearby river.

We continue on our travel, heading to Layang-Layang. But just a few steps away from the town itself, we heard that the municipal captain of Norzagaray was captured by the enemies.

You know, rescuing the municipal captain is surprisingly easy. Maybe because the so-called Seven Musketeers of Pitpitan are the ones in the move, one thing that Isidro never even gives me detail at most about how they did it. Just a notion that they'll be done as fast as possible; some 'midnight rush of a mission'. That's why, majority of us are up even by midnight; a little worried about how things will work out. Apparently, we can throw all those anxieties out of the window. Or not...

"May problema," Julian immediately says the moment that they return, causing everyone else to gather close to a dying fireplace.

A middle-aged man walks along with him and the rest, a notion that tells that he is the municipal captain. He looks defiant, but a little shaken about whatsoever.

Maestrong Sebio looks at him intently, before nodding at his direction, urging the municipal captain to talk.

It so happens that he wants to join this cause of rebellion. And if the enemies find out, they'll be targeting his family, and whoever knows who'll be next on their list. And he is asking for opinions on how to escape such responsibilities without being on the fault.

Out of the blue, I mumble to myself, "Apoy."

Isidro, who've been standing next to me, hears me and frowns a little. "(Y/N)?"

I am looking intently at the dying embers as I reply, "Apoy. Sunugin yung bayan. Gaya ng pagsunog nila sa Pulang Gubat at Santol. Hindi malalaman ng mga kalaban na nakatakas na siya bago pa ang sunog. Pwede nilang isipin na namatay siya sa sunog... o kung ano pa man. Hangga't nandito ang bayan na ito, responsibilidad pa rin niya ito."

"Hmm..." Isidro whispers before smiling a little. "Tama."

Before even one of us could bring it up, the municipal captain immediately says, "Alam ko na. Sunugin natin ang bayan."

* * *

A/N: Follow me on twitter @23meraki for more updates. ;)

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