Chapter Text
Before the petrification happens on earth, let’s begin on this story.
“Nakamura-sama! Please reconsider! You can’t just cancel the show early! You have to sing for the show!” Frantic manager chasing after a 23 year old woman behind while carrying some papers in her arms.” Just cancel that show! I can't perform for those. . . .entitled bastards!”
“But nakamura-sama-”
“Just denied their request manager. Now I have a flight that I do not wish to miss.”
The golden voice of Japan, Hoshiko Nakamura, had never seen a crowd quite like this after arriving in the Philippines once she stepped out through the doors. But she couldn't help it but smile. Not long, she is now ready to perform her song as concert lights dimmed and the opening beats of her latest hit echoed through the araneta coliseum, thousands of voices cheered in unison, their excitement palpable. The stadium was alive, pulsing with energy than any show she performed in different countries she used to perform back then.
Dressed in a shimmering silver gown, Hoshiko took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the Filipino crowd pass over her. Then, with practiced grace, she sang. Her voice soared, crystal clear, emotive, mesmerizing. She had performed all over the world, but something about this night felt different. The way the audience sang along, the way their voices blended seamlessly with hers.
It was as if they had known her all their lives. As the final note of her encore rang out, she closed her eyes, savoring the moment. She had fallen in love with this country, and she wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Within the remaining months of her tour break, Hoshiko decided to stay in the Philippines a little longer, much to the delight of her fans. She tracked across the islands, basking in golden sunsets of boracay, exploring the historic streets of intramuros, and tasting the local delicacies. Though balut was still an intimidating challenge.
On a humid afternoon in Manila, she found herself strolling through a bustling market, admiring the handcrafted goods and rich aroma of freshly grilled street food. Just as she turned a corner, a sudden force knocked into her, sending her stumbling back.
“Ah-!”
A firm hand caught her just in time, steadying her. Dazed, she looked up into the eyes of a tall man, in a police uniform. His face was marked with urgency, but the second their eyes met, surprise flickered across his features. “Are you okay, Ma’am?” His deep voice carried a heavy Filipino accent when he spoke in English, and the concern in his brown eyes was evident.
Hoshiko blinked, still processing what had happened. Before she could respond, a figure darted past them. A thief, clutching a stolen purse. The officer, Antonio Bautista, is what his nameplate read, immediately snapped back to action, releasing her and chasing after the criminal, blowing his whistle before holding the radio for back up. Hoshiko stood frozen for a moment, her heart still racing.
“Nakamura-sama?” Her manager spoke in confusion and concern as Hoshiko continued to stare where the police disappeared.
‘What had just happened?’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next few weeks, Antonio and Hoshiko kept running into each other. . . At a café, at the same bookstore, even at the park where she liked to sketch between her travels. Each encounter was equally surprising, filled with awkward nods and shy smiles.
Eventually, Antonio, despite his broken Japanese and hesitant English, found courage to properly introduce himself. With the help of a translation book and a whole lot of hand gestures, they began to communicate. They started as acquaintances, then as friends, who met up for coffee. Their online conversations were even more chaotic. Hoshiko would send voice records in Japanese, which Antonio would clumsily translate with an old dictionary. Antonio, on the other hand, would send long tagalog messages, leaving her utterly confused.
Their video calls often ended with them laughing at their failed attempts to understand each other. But somehow, they always figured it out. Their friendship blossomed into something deeper. Antonio became her safe place in a foreign land, and Hoshiko became his light after long, tiring days at work. They shared stories, dreams, and growing affection that neither of them could deny.
Eventually, love overcame distance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Though Hoshiko had to return to Japan after her extended stay, she and Antonio found ways to make their long distance relationship work. Letters turned into phone calls, phone calls turned into late-night video chats or calls, and every few months, one of them would fly across the sea just to be together again.
Four years passed, and in 1990, Antonio proposed under the cherry blossoms of kyoto. The moment Hoshiko said yes, she knew she had found her forever. They build life together, balancing their two worlds — bustling streets of Manila and the serene landscapes of Japan. Before Hoshiko decided to stay in the Philippines longer as she took a long break of her long singing career just to spend time with her and her forever lover.
Then in 2003, their greatest joy arrived as Hoshiko gave birth to triplets. Three girls. Hoshiko wanted her daughters to have a Filipino name which Antonio agreed as he named them; isabela, the first triplet; Martha, the second triplet; and Maria, the third and youngest triplet.
Antonio had always dreamed of a big family and seeing his three daughters grow up filled him with pride. He doted on them, teaching them how to ride bikes, how to say po and salamat , supporting their passion. Isabela, her passion is being an architect. Martha, an engineer, and Maria, a doctor. He even buys some toys for them much to hoshiko amusement but she smiles.
He even taught the triplets how to make the best adobo while wearing a ridiculous pink apron that says ‘ kiss the cook’ . Hoshiko would often laugh but she loves his cooking, especially his specialty, Lumpia . The triplets love his cooking as well. Their home became a beautiful blend of Japanese and Filipino culture as the two parents wanted their daughters to embrace their two different cultures.
They were happy. They were whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But happiness can be fleeting.
One tragic evening, when the triplets were only 5, Antonio was caught in a deadly shootout while pursuing a criminal. He never made it home. Hoshiko was devastated. The man, who once was her anchor, was gone. The triplets, too young to understand the depth of their loss, clung to their mother, crying for a father who would never return.
One sleepless night, Hoshiko held Antonio’s police badge in her trembling hands, she recalled a conversation they had years ago.
“If anything happens to me, promise me one thing hoshi.”
“Don’t say things like that, Antonio—”
“Promise me.” He had insisted, his hand warm over hers. “If something ever happens, take them to Japan. Raise them there, where you’ll be safe. Where they’ll be happy.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She had never wanted to think of a future without him. But now, she had no choice.
For her daughters.
For Antonio’s wish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With a heavy heart, Hoshiko packed their stuff and clothes into suitcases and left the country that had once given her the greatest love of her life. Japan became their new home. But no matter they went, Antonio's love remained with them—in the triplets laughter or joy, in Hoshiko’s music, and in the memories that would never fade.
Because love, even in loss, never truly disappears.
It simply changes form.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Years later,
The morning air was crisp and cool, yet the warmth of the rising sun cast a golden glow over Tokyo Hinata nursery school. In front of the entrance, three identical girls stood side by side, their expressions as different as their personalities.
Isabela, the eldest by minutes, stood with her hands tucked into her pockets, her teal eyes scanning the school with a blank expression. Her face betrayed no emotion, yet her quiet presence carried an air of calm detachment.
Martha, positioned in the middle, had her arms crossed, her small foot tapping impatiently against the ground. She already looks annoyed, her sharp eyes darting around as if sizing up potential threats.
Maria, the youngest, clutched the sleeve of their mother’s dress, her small fingers trembling slightly. Unlike her sisters, who seemed either indifferent or irritated, Maria looked genuinely nervous.
Hoshiko knelt down in front of them, smoothing Isabela’s collar before tucking a loose strand of hair behind Maria’s ear. Are you girls ready?” She asked, her voice gentle but firm.
Isabela nodded. “Yes”
Martha scoffed. “ no.”
Maria hesitated, glancing at the large school doors.” . . . . Oka-san, can we stay home?” She whispered. Hoshiko smiled and squeezed her daughter’s hand. “ You'll be okay. You’re all strong.” She studied their faces, trying to find traces of the cheerful children they used to be before Antonio’s death. It broke her heart knowing how much they had changed.
Isabela had become withdrawn, Martha had grown aggressive, and Maria had become overly shy. But they were still her daughters. She pulled them into a warm embrace.” I love you all so much.” Martha groaned.” Ugh, stop hugging us in public oka-san.” Isabela blinked but didn't Resist, while Maria buried her face into Hoshiko’s shoulder.
The school bell rang, the triplets slowly made their way inside, leaving. hoshiko watching them go.
Antonio.. . . . They’re growing so fast.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside the classroom,
Students sat in a neaf row as Ms. Fujiwara, their teacher, smiled warmly. “Let’s introduce ourselves! When I call your name, please stand up and say something about yourself!” One by one, students introduced themselves. When it was the triplets’ turn, Isabela went first.
She stood up and said flatly,” Isabela Bautista. I like books. I don't like loud noises.” Then she sat down.
A pause.
Ms. Fujiwara blinked, caught off guard by Isabela’s bluntness.”. . . Thank you Isabela-chan! That’s very—uh—straightforward.” Next was Martha. She stood up, placing her hand on her hip.” I’m Martha Bautista. I hate getting up early, I hate vegetables, and I don't like annoying people.”
A few students giggled. Ms. Fujiwara chuckled nervously.” Alright, thank you, Martha-chan.”
Finally, Maria hesitantly stood. She twiddled her fingers and whispered,” I. . . . . . I’m Maria Bautista. . . . I like bunnies. . . .and drawing. . . “ she quickly sat back down, her cheeks slightly pink. Ms. Fujiwara clapped her hands together.” Wonderful! Now, let’s talk about your dreams! What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Excited chatter filled the room as students eagerly raised their hands. When it was the triplets’ turn again, Isabela spoke first.
“Architect.”
Martha smirked. “Engineer. A strong one.”
Maria softly said,” I want to be a doctor. . . .”
Ms. Fujiwara beamed.” How wonderful! Those are great dreams!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
During recess, Isabela sat alone on a bench, flipping through a picture book about buildings. That was when she noticed a boy with wild, gravity-defying white hair with green tips standing nearby.
He was staring at her.
“Do you like architecture?” He asked. She turned to face him.” Yes.” The boy smirked.” Good choice. Buildings are the backbone of civilization. Without architecture, humans would still be living in the caves.” Isabela blinked.” You know a lot about buildings?”
“I know a lot about everything,” he said confidently, crossing his arms.” I’m Senku Ishigami.” Isabela studied with him.” Your hair looks like lettuce.”
Senku’s eye twitched.” It’s not lettuce.”
“Or cabbage.”
“It’s not cabbage either.”
“. . . . Leek?”
Senku groaned.” Okay, that’s new.”
Despite herself, Isabela felt a tiny spark of amusement. Senku smirked again.” You got potential. If you ever want to talk about the scientific application of architecture, come find me.” Then he walked off. Isabela wasn’t sure what to make of him.
But something told her this wouldn’t be the last time they talked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day,
Isabela spotted Senku being cornered by a group of bigger kids near the playground. They were laughing and shoving him slightly.” You talk too much, nerd!” One boy sneered. Senku, unfazed, smirked.” Wow, such original insults. Did you steal them from a kindergarten playbook?”
The bullies scowled.” What did you say—?!” Before they could react, Isabela suddenly launched herself forward—legs extended—and drop kicked one of the boys straight in the stomach. The kid staggered backward, eyes wide with shock.” W-what the–!?”
Senku blinked, just as surprised.” Huh?” Isabela dusted herself off. “You’re welcome.” The bullies ran off, not wanting to mess with the drop and kicked a 7 year old girl. Senku grinned,” that was awesome.” she nodded.” I know.”
And just like that, a strange friendship began.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that week,
Martha spotted Isabela and Senku talking in the schoolyard. From a distance, senku’s arms were crossed, and Isabela was staring at him.
Martha squinted.
Was that kid bullying her big sister?!
Her protective instincts kicked in. “OH NO YOU DON’T!” with a battle cry, Martha charged forward and tackled Senku to the ground. “ARGH—WHAT THE HELL?!” Senku yelled as he hit the dirt. Maria gasped and ran after Martha. “Martha-chan, stop! He’s not a bad person!”
But it was too late.
A teacher rushed over, hands on her hips.” Martha bautista! What do you think you’re doing!?”
“. . . . Defending my big sister?”
“By tackling people?”
“. . . Yes?”
The next thing they knew, Isabela, Martha, Maria, and Senku were sitting in time-out together. Martha scowled.” This is your fault, lettuce-head.” Senku groaned.” It’s not lettuce!” Isabela, sitting beside them, simply sighed. Maria fidgeted nervously.” Oka-san’s going to be mad. . . “
Despite everything, Senku smirked as he looked at Isabela.” You’ve got weird family,”
Isabela nodded.” I know.”
And with that, their chaotic friendship was officially set in motion.