Heartbeat Of Summer

15

THE SEA IN THE WINDOW

As the days passed, I could feel my body weakening, but the one thing that remained strong was my connection with Kaito. He kept visiting, even when I insisted it wasn't necessary. His presence became the only thing that felt real to me in the midst of everything that was slipping away.

One afternoon, when the sky outside turned a soft shade of pink, he sat by my bed again. He wasn't saying anything. I could tell he was thinking, trying to piece together words that felt heavy, words that mattered.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but steady.

"Sereia, Ayoko lang... ayoko lang maramdaman ko na nag-iisa ka dito. Andito lang ako kahit anong mangyari at sasamahan kita." His eyes were full of sincerity, and for a moment, I thought I could hear the weight of his promise echoing in the stillness of the room.

I smiled, though the effort hurt. "Kaito, I've never been alone."

He blinked, a little confused. " Ha?"

I turned to him, my heart full of something unspoken. "I've always had you with me. Even before all of this. When I needed someone to show me the world, you were there. When I was lost in myself, you found me. You gave me more than just moments, Kaito. You gave me memories, the kind that will stay with me, even if... even if I'm not here."

His hand reached for mine. "Sereia..."

"Don't worry," I whispered, squeezing his hand back. "I'm not saying goodbye yet. I'm just... saying thank you. For being my light in a world that's gotten darker." I paused, gathering what little strength I had left. "Thank you for showing me that sometimes, the best parts of life are found not in the places we see, but in the people we share them with."

He didn't say anything right away, but his grip tightened. I could feel the unshed tears in his fingers, and for a brief moment, I thought maybe we didn't need words at all.

And so we sat there, in the quiet, letting the silence speak for us, knowing that sometimes, the most powerful things are the ones that don't need to be said aloud.

I STOPPED keeping track of the days. Time felt strange in the hospital — like it moved too slowly, but at the same time, slipped right through me. The only moments that still felt real were the ones when they visited. My friends. My constants.

This afternoon, just as the light outside turned golden — the same kind of light that used to dance over the cliffs of Basco — I heard their voices from the hallway.

"Ate, Miss Manila! Gising ka na?" Hampi's voice, loud and cheerful, echoed before he even stepped in. He entered with a grin, holding something behind his back like he was hiding a surprise.

"May dala akong prutas! Galing sa likod-bahay namin. Organic 'to, promise. Pero... baka bawal pa rin, so 'wag mo masyadong ipakita sa nurse, ha?"