The night was unusually quiet, the only sounds the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft hum of distant traffic. Mikha had swung by Aiah's place to pick up her toolbox after the whirlwind furniture assembly session the previous weekend. She hadn't planned to linger, but somehow, one thing led to another, and here they were—walking around Aiah's neighborhood under the faint glow of streetlights.
Mikha was holding Haru's leash, the fluffy gray cat strutting ahead of them like he owned the sidewalk. Haru's tail swayed confidently, as if he was too good for the world but had graced them with his presence anyway.
"Your cat talaga," Aiah said with a soft laugh, shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She was wearing her favorite oversized sweater, the one Mikha used to tease her about because it was big enough for two people. "Parang laging feeling celebrity. Look at him."
Mikha grinned, glancing at Haru, who had paused dramatically to sniff a patch of grass before looking back at them with mild disdain. "He is a celebrity. Pero lowkey lang. Ayaw niya ng paparazzi."
Aiah chuckled, shaking her head. "Nakakatawa na dinadala mo siya everywhere now. Literal na siya na yung date mo."
"Hey, masaya si Haru," Mikha said, feigning offense. "He's great company. Tahimik, hindi demanding, at hindi nagsusungit—unless gutom siya, of course."
Aiah raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Sounds familiar."
Mikha shot her a playful glare. "Wow, attack ba 'to? I've changed, okay? Hindi na ako ganun ka-mood swingy."
Aiah smiled but didn't say anything, and for a moment, silence stretched between them as they walked, their steps falling into a natural rhythm.
The breeze was cool, brushing against their faces, and Mikha tugged her jacket a little tighter around her. Haru trotted along, blissfully unaware of the quiet tension hanging in the air.
"So," Aiah said after a while, her voice softer now. "Kamusta ka na? Like... really."
Mikha glanced at her, startled by the question. "What do you mean?"
Aiah shrugged, looking down at the pavement as they walked. "I mean... kamusta ka with everything? Therapy, work, life. You've been working on a lot of stuff lately, di ba?"
Mikha exhaled slowly, her free hand fiddling with the zipper of her jacket. "Okay naman. Therapy's... hard, but it's helping. I feel like I'm finally starting to understand myself better. Kung bakit ako naging ganun before. And honestly, I've been trying to... fix the parts of me that needed fixing for a long time."
"That's good," Aiah said softly, glancing at her. "Proud ako sa'yo, Mikha."
Mikha's heart clenched at the words, the sincerity in Aiah's voice hitting her in a way she wasn't prepared for. "Thanks," she said quietly. "Hindi madali, pero... worth it naman. I just wish I had started earlier."
Aiah didn't respond right away, her gaze fixed ahead as they continued walking. Finally, she said, "Bakit nga ba hindi? If you don't mind me asking."
Mikha hesitated, feeling the familiar knot in her stomach—the same one that always tightened when she thought about their past. "Honestly? Takot ako dati. I didn't want to face it. Yung mga issues ko, yung mga insecurities ko... ang dali lang kasi magtago, magpanggap na okay lang." She let out a bitter laugh. "But obviously, hindi siya sustainable. It caught up to me. And... nasaktan kita because of it."
Aiah glanced at her, her expression unreadable. "You didn't just hurt me, Mikha. You hurt yourself too."
Mikha swallowed hard, the weight of the words settling over her. "I know. And I'm sorry, Aiah. Hindi ko na mabilang kung ilang beses na akong nag-sorry, pero..." She paused, her voice cracking slightly. "I'll keep saying it if I have to. Kasi totoo siya. I'm sorry for everything."
