Saturday morning came earlier than I expected.
I was still asleep when I heard the front door open, followed by the familiar sound of plastic bags being placed on the kitchen table.
A moment later, my mother’s excited voice echoed through the house.
“Rafael!”
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.
It was barely six in the morning.
Why was Mom already calling me?
“Rafael, wake up!”
I reluctantly got out of bed and opened my bedroom door.
Before I could even ask what was happening, my mother came rushing toward me with several plastic bags in both hands.
She had just returned from the palengke and was still carrying the ingredients she had bought for breakfast.
What caught my attention, however, was her expression.
She was smiling so widely that I immediately knew something unusual had happened.
“Mom?
What’s going on?”
She grabbed my shoulders and shook me excitedly.
“Your bet won!
Son, we won!”
For a moment, I simply stared at her.
Then I remembered the number I had given her the night before.
The Suertes.
A smile slowly spread across my face.
“It worked,” I muttered.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
I quickly shook my head, trying not to look too suspicious.
My father, Eddie, had apparently been awakened by all the noise.
He stepped out of the bedroom, still looking half-asleep, and looked between the two of us.
“What’s going on this early in the morning?”
My mother turned toward him, still unable to contain her excitement.
“Remember the number Rafael gave me last night?
It won!”
My father’s sleepy expression disappeared almost instantly.
“The Suertes?”
“Yes!”
“How much did we win?”
My mother smiled proudly.
“Almost thirty-nine thousand pesos.”
My father stared at her.
“Thirty-nine thousand?”
“Almost,” she repeated, laughing.
For our family, that was a huge amount of money.
My mother normally only placed small bets of ten or twenty pesos whenever she had a little extra money.
She wasn’t someone who could afford to gamble regularly, and the money she spent on those tickets was usually just spare change she could live without.
But yesterday had been different.
She happened to have a little more money than usual, so she decided to put one hundred pesos on the number I had given her.
That one hundred pesos had turned into nearly thirty-nine thousand.
My father shook his head in disbelief while Mom continued talking excitedly about how lucky we had been.
I listened to them with a smile.
Inside, however, I was thinking about something else.
It worked.
That was the only thing that mattered.
The future I remembered hadn’t completely changed yet.
At least, this particular result had remained exactly as I remembered it.
That gave me confidence.
More importantly, it gave me a way to test whether my memories of the future could still be trusted.
My mother began talking about what we should do with the money, and my father immediately started thinking about which expenses we needed to take care of first.
I let them talk while I looked at them quietly.
They were both alive.
They were healthy.
They were standing in front of me, worrying about how to spend thirty-nine thousand pesos instead of worrying about whether they would survive another day.
I remembered how different things had become in my first life.
For a moment, I simply enjoyed seeing them happy again.
After breakfast, I finally brought up the reason I had asked my mother to place the bet in the first place.
“Mom, can we use some of the money to buy a few things?”
She looked at me.
“What do you need?”
I glanced down at my shoes.
One of them was still badly worn, with the sole beginning to separate from the rest of the shoe.
“I need new shoes.
And a school uniform.
My bag is also getting pretty bad.”
I thought about it for a moment before adding, “Maybe a couple of clothes too.”
My mother looked at my shoes and then at my bag.
She sighed.
“You’re right.
You’ve been using those for too long.”
“So we can?”
She smiled.
“Of course.
We’ll go shopping today.”
I couldn’t help smiling.
It was such a simple thing, but it made me happier than I expected.
In my first life, I had spent so much time worrying about things like that.
I remembered hiding my damaged shoes and making excuses whenever someone wanted to walk home with me.
I had been especially embarrassed around Rosalie because I was afraid she would notice how worn out everything I owned was.
Now I could finally replace them.
Before we could leave, the rest of my siblings began waking up.
Edmund came out first, followed by Joey, Lecia, and Lucy.
They were still sleepy and confused by all the excitement happening so early in the morning.
Edmund looked at Mom.
“What’s happening?”
Mom proudly told them about the winning ticket.
Their reactions were immediate.
“You won?”
“How much?”
“Thirty-nine thousand?”
Then Joe looked at me and grinned.
“How about us?”
Lecia quickly joined him.
“Yeah, what are we getting?”
Lucy wasn’t about to be left out either.
I laughed as all three started asking questions at the same time.
“Fine, fine.
We’re all going shopping.”
Their faces immediately lit up.
“Really?”
“Yes.
But we’re buying things we actually need.”
That didn’t stop them from celebrating.
A few hours later, the entire family headed to the mall.
It had been a long time since I had gone shopping with all of them like that.
We started with shoes, and all five of us picked out a new pair.
I took my time choosing mine, partly because I couldn’t believe I was finally replacing the pair I had spent so much time being embarrassed about.
When I put the new shoes on and took a few steps, I couldn’t help smiling.
They were comfortable.
More importantly, I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing my toes through a hole anymore.
After the shoes, we bought new school uniforms, bags, and a couple of new outfits for each of us.
Nothing extravagant, but everything was something we genuinely needed.
For a family like ours, being able to replace several necessities in a single day felt like a luxury.
By lunchtime, everyone was hungry, so we decided to eat at Jollibee.
The moment we sat down with our food, the table became noisy again.
My siblings were arguing over fries, teasing one another, and talking about the things they wanted to buy next time.
My father kept telling them not to get carried away, while my mother laughed at their excitement.
I mostly sat there and listened.
There was nothing extraordinary about the scene.
It was just a family having lunch together.
But to me, it was something I hadn’t realized I had missed so much.
I had spent my first life surrounded by war, death, and memories of people who were no longer alive.
I had watched my homeland suffer, watched friends disappear, and eventually watched humanity fight for its survival against enemies from another world.
Yet here I was, sitting inside a Jollibee with my parents and siblings, listening to them laugh over something as simple as who had gotten the biggest piece of chicken.
I looked around the table and smiled.
This was exactly what I wanted to protect.
Not just some abstract idea of humanity or a future I had already seen.
Them.
My family.
The people who had struggled alongside me before I ever became a physicist, an engineer, or a soldier.
The Suertes winnings weren’t enough to change the future.
They weren’t even enough to begin the plans I had in mind.
But they had done something else.
They had reminded me why I was doing all of this in the first place.
I wasn’t going to spend my second life only preparing for the end of the world.
I wanted to make sure that when that day finally came, there would still be something worth saving.
And for now, that started with making sure my family could enjoy an ordinary Saturday together.
Monday arrived sooner than I expected.
As I walked to school that morning, I kept wondering whether the events of the weekend had already begun changing the timeline.
The Suertes win, the money we spent at the mall, our new clothes and shoes—none of those things had happened in my first life.
How much could such small changes affect the future?
I had no idea.
That uncertainty bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
I found myself comparing everything around me with my memories of my first life.
So far, though, everything seemed to be happening exactly as I remembered.
My cousin was walking beside me, just as he had back then.
My younger sisters, Lecia and Lucy, were walking with us before we reached the elementary campus where I dropped them off for school.
After making sure the two of them had entered safely, I continued toward high school.
It felt strange seeing them like this again.
In my first life, I had watched both of them grow up.
Now they were children again, arguing over little things and walking beside me as if the decades between my two lives had never happened.
I smiled to myself.
I had almost forgotten how noisy they could be.
After dropping them off, I continued toward high school and eventually met Niel.
The moment I saw him, an old memory surfaced.
I knew exactly what he was going to ask.
Niel and Edmund were classmates, so as soon as we started walking toward the school building, he asked, “Is Edmund still sick?”
“He’s feeling better already,” I replied.
“His fever is gone, but he still has the chickenpox scars.
He decided to stay home until they clear up.”
Niel nodded.
Then, just as I remembered, the conversation shifted.
“So, about Rosalie…”
I almost laughed.
Here it comes.
“It seems like she has a crush on you,” Niel said.
“If I were you, I’d court her.
She’s the prettiest girl in high school you know.”
The words were almost exactly the same as they had been in my first life.
I even remembered my response.
For a moment, I considered changing it.
Why shouldn’t I?
I wasn’t the same person anymore.
I had lived through decades of experiences that fourteen-year-old me couldn’t even imagine.
Yet I decided to give him the same answer.
“I don’t think she likes me.”
Niel looked at me as though I had just said something ridiculous.
“Are you blind?”
I laughed.
“Maybe.”
He shook his head.
“You should at least try talking to her.”
I didn’t answer.
But I knew I would.
This time, I wasn’t going to run away.
When we reached the school grounds, the intramurals had already ended, and everything had returned to its normal routine.
Students were moving between classrooms, teachers were preparing their lessons, and the campus no longer had the excitement that had filled it during the previous week.
There was, however, one obvious difference.
Me.
I was no longer wearing the same worn-out uniform from my first life.
My new school uniform was clean and properly fitted, my shoes were new, and my hair had been neatly groomed that morning.
I hadn’t realized just how much those little things affected the way I carried myself.
In my first life, I was constantly conscious of how I looked.
I worried about the worn fabric of my uniform, the holes in my shoes, and the cheapness of the things I owned.
That insecurity followed me everywhere, even when I tried to ignore it.
Now that weight was gone.
I walked into the classroom with a confidence I had never possessed at fourteen.
And apparently, other people noticed.
Several of my classmates looked at me as soon as I entered.
A few girls whispered among themselves.
One of them glanced at me, looked away, and then looked back again.
I almost smiled.
So this was what happened when I wasn’t dressed like I had lost a fight with poverty.
It wasn’t as though I had suddenly become handsome.
I had always looked this way.
I simply hadn’t had the confidence to see it.
The funny thing was that I remembered several girls liking me during my first life.
At the time, I had been completely oblivious.
I had assumed they were simply being friendly.
My lack of confidence had blinded me to things that had been right in front of me.
I took my seat and tried not to pay too much attention to the whispers around the classroom.
The rest of the morning passed normally.
As expected, the lessons were painfully familiar.
I already knew most of the answers before the teachers finished explaining them, and when the tests came, I had no trouble answering them.
Being a fourteen-year-old student after spending an entire lifetime studying physics, engineering, and advanced technology made ordinary high-school subjects almost comically easy.
Still, I made an effort not to show off.
I remembered how I had behaved in my first life, and I followed the same general routine.
As class president, I helped organize my classmates and made sure everyone did their assigned responsibilities, including keeping the classroom clean.
The work itself was simple.
What I found more interesting was watching the people around me.
I had spent decades knowing what would eventually happen to many of them.
Some would grow up and leave the country.
Some would marry.
Some would become successful.
Others would struggle.
And some…
I stopped myself before that thought could go any further.
I didn’t want to spend every moment comparing the people in front of me with memories of the people they would eventually become.
They were alive now.
That was enough.
When lunchtime arrived, I remembered what I needed to do.
Edmund was still absent, and his teacher needed to know that he wouldn’t be returning yet.
I headed toward his classroom.
The walk there was so familiar that I could have done it without thinking.
As I approached the doorway, I saw several students gathered nearby.
I slowed down and prepared to enter.
Then someone came around the corner at the same time.
We almost collided.
I stopped immediately.
So did she.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
Rosalie.
I knew this moment.
I remembered it with perfect clarity.
In my first life, this had been one of those small, ordinary encounters that I didn’t understand the importance of until much later.
I had bumped into her near the classroom, and for a brief moment, our hands had nearly touched as we both tried to move out of each other’s way.
Back then, I had panicked.
I stepped aside so quickly that I nearly walked into the wall.
Rosalie had looked at me with a confused expression before quietly walking away.
I had spent years wondering what might have happened if I had simply stayed there and talked to her.
Now I had another chance.
Rosalie looked up at me.
Her eyes widened slightly, and I noticed a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.
Just like I remembered.
But this time, I didn’t step away.
I smiled.
“Sorry.
I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
She shook her head quickly.
“It’s okay.”
Her voice was softer than I remembered.
Or perhaps I simply remembered it differently.
With HEMS, I had carried the sound of her voice with me for decades, but hearing it again in person felt completely different.
My memory could preserve every detail, but it couldn’t recreate the feeling of actually standing in front of her again.
She looked at me for another second before lowering her eyes.
Rosalie had always been shy.
I remembered that clearly.
In my first life, her friends had often teased her whenever my name came up.
She would become visibly flustered, deny everything, and eventually find some excuse to leave.
Apparently, that hadn’t changed.
I had barely reached the hallway when I heard a burst of laughter coming from her classroom.
A moment later, Rosalie hurried out of the room, her face already bright red.
She was probably trying to escape her friends before they could tease her any further.
Unfortunately for her, fate seemed to have a sense of humor.
She turned the corner without looking ahead and nearly walked straight into me.
Rosalie stopped so suddenly that she almost lost her balance.
Our eyes met.
Her face became even redder.
For a second, she simply stood there, frozen.
Then her eyes darted away, and she immediately tried to move past me.
She was going to run.
I remembered this.
In my first life, this was exactly what had happened.
She had been too embarrassed to face me, and I had been too nervous to stop her.
So we had simply walked away from each other.
Not this time.
I reached out and gently caught her hand before she could disappear around the corner.
“Are you okay?”
Rosalie froze.
She looked down at my hand holding hers, then slowly raised her eyes toward me.
Her cheeks were now completely red.
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
It was almost exactly the same reaction I remembered.
The same shy expression.
The same quiet voice.
The same way she avoided looking directly at me.
But this time, I didn’t let the moment slip away.
I kept hold of her hand, not wanting to frighten her, but firm enough that she knew I wasn’t going to simply walk away.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
My heart was beating faster than I expected.
It was almost ridiculous.
I had spent my first life fighting wars and facing things that could kill me in seconds, yet standing in a hallway holding the hand of a shy thirteen-year-old girl somehow made me more nervous than facing an alien battlefield.
I took a breath and smiled.
“Are you heading somewhere?”
She nodded timidly.
“To…
the classroom.”
“So am I.”
She finally looked at me.
There was still a deep blush on her face, but this time, she didn’t try to run.
Instead, she gave me a small, almost hesitant smile.
“Then…
let’s go.”
We started walking toward the classroom together.
I kept holding her hand as we walked.
It was such a simple thing, but to me, it carried the weight of an entire lifetime.
I had already lived through this moment once.
Back then, I had let fear and insecurity decide what happened next.
This time, I wasn’t going to run away.
Neither was I going to let her run away from me.