Falling for the Masterpiece

Chapter 6: The Judge

IVAN

"You know what? What you told me yesterday was actually a good idea." Tumatawa pa si Yuki habang katabi ko sa algebra class. Walang bakas ng iyaking tao kahapon sa kaklase kong napagdesisyunang pumasok ulit. He just kept on smiling habang inaayos ang manggas ng jacket niya.

To be honest, I'm glad that he came to class today. Kahit huwag na niyang ituloy ang suggestion ko kahapon. Mukhang hindi naman talaga magandang ideya 'yon. I'm sure, the teachers would definitely let him in as long as he was willing to learn. Hindi ba ganoon naman ang mga guro? They should do everything in their power for a student to learn.

I remember this post on social media about some so-called critiques. They thought they were giving constructive feedback to a certain author on the internet. At ang kadalasang linyahan nila was: be teachable. One time, I looked up the meaning of criticism in the Merriam-Webster dictionary:

Criticism: the art of evaluating or analyzing works of art or literature.

Then I went back to these so called criticism comments on the internet. Parang wala namang analysis na nangyari? Most of them are subjective evaluations based on their narrow understanding of the individual and their work.

An evaluation should be objective. And it should be based on a set standard. E, 'yong mga nabasa kong comments are puro pam-babash lang doon sa author at hindi sa gawa niya.

Minsan, nilakasan ko ang loob ko. I stood up for the person being bullied and said:

We expect people to be teachable, but we don't even have the qualifications, aptitude, and right attitude to teach.

And guess what? The main threader of that certain social media thread called upon his minions to gang-up on me.

Pathetic.

That day, I finally accepted what tatay had been telling me about. Some people communicate to respond, not to understand.

I like my tatay. Kahit hinigpitan niya ako ng sinturon, I know that his words were there to shield me from the world. I have rarely used social media since then. Nasuka na kasi ako sa part na ang daming nakikisawsaw sa mga issue ng ibang tao for their own sense of self-rightiousness. Looking back at those days, natatawa na lang ako. There's another term for them actually, not critiques. Critique is too sacred, too good, too professional. Ah, bashers.

"Puwedeng pakopya ng notebook mo?" Yukihero's voice pulled me back from my thought cloud.

My head is sometimes a scary place to be in. Hindi puro magandang alaala ang tumatakbo sa utak ko. There are times that it feels so ghetto that some people in my imagination could actually stab me with a knife. Minsan, napapamura na lang ako habang tulala. Maybe those are the memories of regrets. They stay in your subconscious brain and cause a jerky sensation when they upfloat to your consciousness.

"Para makahabol ako sa mga na-miss ko," dagdag pa ni Yukihero. God, the hero part in his name suits him. Pulling me away from the bad memories in my head is a very heroic thing to do.

"Akin na cellphone mo," I said instead.

"Why?" natatawa niyang tanong.

Nginitian ko na lang siya at inilatag ang kamay ko. He slowly pulled out his phone from his pocket and handed it to me.

His phone is brand new this time. Wala nang basag sa screen. Pinigilan kong tumaas ang kilay ko. Rich kid nga talaga siya siguro. I kept my thoughts to myself sa pagkakataong ito at baka may masabi na naman akong mali.

I turned his camera on at sinumulang kuhaan ng pictures and mga notes ko.

Nakangiti lang sa akin si Yuki. I checked on his images, kung malinaw ba ang mga kuha ko, when suddenly, I swiped too far. I saw a topless photo of him, as if he were being photographed by someone else in bed.

He immediately grabbed his phone. He looks humiliated.

"Sorry," saad ko.

Nginitian na lang ako ni Yuki sabay iling. He put his phone in his bag sabay harap sa akin na parang walang nangyari. "Puwedeng pakoya rin ng homework?"

I was about to give my notebook to him when suddenly, there's this voice in my head saying: Give a man a fish, and you'll feed him for a day. But teach him how to fish at hindi na siya mangongopya ng homework mo.

"I can't do that, Yuki." Damn, I'm like my tatay talking. "Wala naman tayong homework today. Sa susunod pa ang pasahan nito. Kung gusto mo, turuan na lang kita mamaya after school, sa bench na inupuan natin kahapon."

"That's actually, b-better, Ivan."

He's back to the first name basis.

Should I be worried about him? Or should I be worried about me? Okay lang ba na nakangiti ulit ako?

***

Yuki is taking up architecture, that's why sa ibang klase lang kami nagtatagpo. I offered to tutor him dahil feeling ko, kargo ko siya simula nang pagtulungan siya sa Almasen.

I also bought a thicker mattress for my dorm para may maipagamit ako the next time Yuki... I mean, another person sleeps at my place. Damn, I really hate my head sometimes.

"Mukhang napapadalas na ang tambay natin dito, ah?" Yuki noticed that I sat him on the same bench as yesterday kahit may iba namang upuan sa paligid.

"Okay kasi rito, hindi masyadong maraming estudyanteng dumadaan at sa ilalim pa ng puno ng mangga," tugon ko.

"And it's— clean," he added, emphasizing at the last word he mentioned which I don't find necessary.

"Yes," pag-ulit ko na lang. "it's clean."

He just smiled at me. I pulled out my drawing pad para may magamit kaming patungan.

Just half an hour in my free tutoring session, naso-solve na niya ang the rest of our home works nang mag-isa niya.

"Grabe, Yuki. You're amazing!"

"I get that sometimes. I'm a quick study."

"Alam mo bang hirap akong turuan noong tutor na kinuha ng tatay ko noong bata pa ako. Pero ikaw ang bilis mong matuto."

"Wow, may tutor, may kaya."

"Baliw!" Napalunok ako bigla. "Kapitbahay lang namin na teacher 'yon."

"Okay," he awkwardly said. "So what's your plan tonight? Will you pick-up a shift in Almasen?"

Gusto ko sanag sabihin na oo kahit hindi because I plan on working on my Piggy Bank at home. But it's been a week since I last saw Yuki. And masigla siya today, way better than what he looked like yesterday.

"Bakit? Yayayain mo ba akong mag-inuman? Sasama ako kapag may girls," I said, laughing, but I'm serious. Walang halong judgement on my part regarding his lifestyle this time.

"Hindi," he said. Hindi siya sumimangot. But there is a slight shift in his facial expression, indicating that I may have said something judgmental again.

"Sorry, Yuki. That's not what I meant."

"No, I understand. And I know that's not what you meant."

Sininghot ko ang hangin sa ilalim ng puno ng mangga. I could even smell the sweet scent of flowers. Then I exhaled slowly, blowing out the awkwardness between us.

"You know what, Yukihero Azukawa? I gotta promise you something today."

"Ano?"

"From now on, I won't judge you."

That moment, Yuki made the biggest smile I've ever seen. His smile was so big that I could hardly tell if he was looking at me because his chubby cheeks had started covering his eyes.

"T-talaga?"

"Oo, promise." My voice was soft. As if the wind under the tree was carrying them. Letting them fly in the air around me and Yukihero Azukawa. It was like the wind mixed my words with the scent of fresh flowers from the mango tree before lifting them up into the sky.

"Ang presko," saad ni Yuki habang pinipikit ang mga mata niya. He followed the breeze as it bid us goodbye.

Mukhang sa tuwing makakaamoy ako ng bulaklak ng puno ng mangga,  maalala ko palagi ang pangako kong iyon kay Yukihero Azukawa.