Xochirae
If someone told little Tazanna that being the eldest daughter in the Lee household would someday feel like carrying the weight of everyone else's expectations, she would've just looked at them blankly-confused, innocent, unknowing of what that sentence really meant.
Because what do you mean this is what being the eldest is like? To already have responsibilities engraved into you before you even get the chance to figure out who you are.
Una, she was expected to always have a sense of direction. When something goes wrong, she's always the first to step in, even before anyone asks. Pangalawa, she must keep her emotions controlled. Being the eldest means you couldn't afford breakdowns. If you fall apart, everything else would follow. Pangatlo, she had to be the reliable one-the one who everyone turns to, the one who holds everything together even when she's already falling apart quietly inside.
Then there was Maya-the one person who felt like freedom. Kahit gaano kabigat ang mga expectations sa kanya, Maya became her safe space. With her, Tazanna could breathe without feeling like she had to hold everything together.
But one mistake. One argument. One death shattered everything. In a single blink, Maya was gone.
Taken by tragedy. Buried beneath secrets, pride, and a kind of pain neither of them were ever taught how to survive.
And grief? It doesn't fade. It lingers. It breaks you in silence. Until the universe starts testing how far you're willing to go just to get them back.
When a strange child places a pocket watch in her hands-one that bends time itself-Tazanna doesn't hesitate. She doesn't want to fix everything. She just wants one moment. One choice. One ending that could've saved the person she loved.
But the past was never meant to be rewritten. And time always collects what it's owed.
If you could travel back in time and rewrite everything just to bring her back... how certain are you that the future won't take her away in a different way this time?