Arroz caldo- rice porridge with ingredients such as chicken, ginger, and green onions
Bangus- fried fish soaked in vinegar before cooking
Tosino- savory, sweet grilled pork or chicken
"Pogi"/"guapo"- Words, meaning handsome, most commonly spoken by Filipino mothers or grandmothers towards their sons and grandsons
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Waking to the warmth of sunbeams, I expect to hear a morning ruckus — Jaide shrieking down the hall, Kuya Rafi's footsteps stomping closely behind. I expect the scent of sweet longanisa — sausage — to waft through the air as the rest of our breakfast sizzles and crackles on pans. Instead, an odd stillness inhabits the room.
Getting my glasses from the desk, I rise out of bed and walk out. As I make my way through the living room, I notice an orange beam of light seeping past the curtains, reminding me of yesterday's sunset. I spot the calendar on the fridge door once I reach the empty kitchen; it holds a weekly schedule for chores. Last night, Misato and I played an intense game of rock-paper-scissors to figure out who would do what. I won. She always chose either rock or scissors. Remembering her reaction — the poorly concealed twitch of her lip, the harshly given noogie — makes me smile. Whenever Kuya Rafi lost our little game of chore-splitting, he would freak out the same way.
"Hey, champion," a groggy voice from behind me says.
I turn, seeing a pajama-clad Misato. Her frizzed purple hair launches out from tossing and turning in bed, and her eyelids are barely open. Arms hanging loosely at the sides, she takes a few lagging steps, like a zombie, to the fridge. I step aside as she takes out a beer. She sits at the table, but I lean against the countertop, watching her struggle to open the can.
"Still a sore loser, aren't cha'," I tease. The beer cracks open, foam rising. Misato brings the can to her mouth, tipping it all the way back, guzzling it down like water. She aggressively slams the can down only after a few seconds, her eyes alive. The zombie has been resurrected.
"WOOOO! That's the spot!" Misato exclaims. "There's nothing like a can of Yebisu to start the day. When we figure out the chore schedule next month..."
At those last two words, I see her eyes drift away from me to the table, her fingers tightening around the can, choking it. It's almost as if she said something taboo, something forbidden.
"Misato, what's wrong?"
She snaps out of it.
"Oh — nothing," she says, releasing her grip from the can. "Today's the big day. Go eat some breakfast."
---
After a meal of leftovers and a quick hop in the bath, Misato and I are in the car. Like yesterday, I'm looking out the window but for a different reason. I'm trying my very best not to explode into laughter. If Misato's trying to impress me with her singing, it definitely isn't working. She's in an entirely different key.
When the song ends, I hear snapping and cracking over the speakers — Misato switching stations. She settles on one, so the harsh noises come to a halt. Shiny synths flow from the speakers, declaring a familiar melody. The strike of a snare meets the last note. I know this song all too well.
"I don't know what it is that you've done to me
But it's caused me to act in such a crazy way"
"Oh, I love this song!" Misato exclaims.
I do, too. I belted this song during karaoke back home — and in the shower. I hear the notes and the runs in my head, but they won't come out. I've never sang in front of anybody besides my family. Why should I now?
YOU ARE READING
Evangelion: Mabuhay!
Fanfiction(OC/AU) His world forever changed two years ago, he was left to pick up the pieces alone. Now, thrown into a strange land, everything and everyone he cherishes is suddenly on the line. He may be the only thing standing in evil's way, yet his fight d...
