Chapter Text
I never believed in fate.
Maybe because fate has a funny way of putting two people in the same room, only to rip them apart later.
We met at a train station in Kyoto. Rain dripping, umbrellas clashing, silence loud. I was there for a short-term literature exchange one of those programs meant to “bridge cultures.” He was there because, well… because it was his country, his home. And I was just passing through like a postcard forgotten in someone’s drawer.
He held the door for me. That’s how it started.
A simple act, barely even a sentence.
But when our eyes met, it felt like something clicked—then cracked, as if time itself flinched.
“Exchange student?” he asked, after a beat.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I just guessed... I mean, your accent. So you’re... p–pipino?” he said, struggling with the word.
“Tangina... Yeah. Filipino,” I laughed at how he pronounced it as pipino .
“Tang–what? I don’t understand. Is that a new word or... your own language?”
I leaned in just a bit, lips twitching. “It’s a compliment.” I said, stopping myself from grinning.
“A compliment?” His brows furrowed.
“Yeah. Like… it means ‘beautiful’ or ‘cool.’ We say it to people we like.”
God. Im going to hell.
He nodded slowly, trying to commit it into memory. “ Tan… gi-na.”
I snorted.
“What?” he asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“Nothing. You just said perfectly,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek to keep me from laughing. “Onlyy around Filipinos,” I smirked. “Especially teachers. They’ll love it.”
He looked genuinely pleased with himself, completely unaware. And that made it even more funnier.
I was still laughing when he checked his watch.
“Oh –crap,” he muttered under his breath. “My train’s about to leave.”
The train bound for Kyoto will now depart from Platform 2. Remaining time: three minutes.
His eyes darted to the platform screen, then back to me.
“That’s me.”
“Oh…” I tried to sound casual, like my chest didn’t just tighten. “Well, better run, Mr. Pipino.”
He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Still not how you say it.”
“Nope. But you said Tangina like you were born saying it, so I think we’re even.”
As he laughed, his gaze flicked down for a second—right at the name tag pinned to my uniform. A small pause. His lips shaped the syllables carefully, like he was trying the taste of it.
“Hey, Isabel?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “...Yeah?”
“See you around?”
I shrugged. “If fate allows.”
I watched as he turned, walking away until he disappeared into the blur of umbrellas and rushing footsteps.
Gone—just like that.
I didn’t even ask for his name.
And maybe that’s just what it was meant to be.
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But... who knows?