But this felt like a sign because of what she said. The words seemed to ring in his ears, make his heart leap.
They are looking for someone to take over.
Because now he was thinking,why couldn’t it be me?
No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t possibly have enough to afford the Hotel Villa. It was a property along the highway, it was sure to come at a high price. He would only have enough for maybe half of it, there was no way he could—
You can’t. But your family can. Imagine Carlton opening a hotel outside of Manila, holding weddings and events better than Tagaytay?
Maybe if he could get them excited about this, they could start talking more, and he would be forgiven for whatever it was he’d done. His grandfather liked it when he took initiative, liked it when Santi approached him with ideas and requests. Miro would get a kick out of designing the hotel; he built an entire influencer career around interior design. His father could dust off those old skills he learned from Villa to keep it going, his mother could reconcile with her family.
He could bring them all together.Like a knight in shining armor.
“You’re smiling,” Kira noted, bringing him back to the moment, to this girl who had stolen his onigiri and redirected his entire life in a span of what, thirty minutes? Twenty? What was time? “It looks good on you.”
She speared a ball with her chopstick, the steam rising up to his nose. It was fragrant and made his stomach grumble, even if he already had dinner. She held up the ball toward him in offering. He opened his mouth and ate the whole thing. It was delicious.
“Mph!” he exclaimed as he bit into it. Cheese burst from the inside, coating his tongue with hot, melty goodness, as the saltiness and warmth of the broth filled his mouth. “It has cheese inside.”
“Does it?” Kira looked absolutely delighted. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Unexpected,” he said. “But really good.”
“We should change up the terms of the promise,” Kira announced, chomping on a ball, which might have been mushroom-based, after dipping it generously in the sauce. “Seeing as you’re not planning on marrying me anytime soon?”
“I’m not?”
“Well, a knight traditionally marries the princess.” Kira laughed. “But I like the idea of having someone out there looking out for me, and looking out for someone. So we should promise to be there for each other when we need it.”
“Need is...subjective, isn’t it?” Santi asked, wrinkling his nose. “What is that supposed to feel like?”
“Hmm,” Kira said thoughtfully, stirring her shabu shabu soup with a plastic spoon. She pressed a hand lightly to her heart, like the answer was there. “You feel it here,” she explained. “It’s an ache, or a twist in your chest that you can’t get rid of. And there’s no one else in the world that can understand it, but the other person. That’s need.”
“Okay,” Santi agreed, looking at her. She caught his glance and her eyes just...sparkled. Like she was truly, incandescently happy to hear it. How did she do that, in a combi so flooded with bright light? “When you need me most, I’ll be there.”
“And...?”
“And...bow?” His brow rose in confusion.
“No.” Kira rolled her eyes, but she was laughing. “And if you need me,Iwill be there. Patas lang. Warning, I’m very persistent. My levels of kulit are legendary.”
“I remember.” He nodded. He hadn’t realized that he was touching the same spot in his chest until he saw her smiling at his hand. She held out a hand, nails painted a sparkly gold, and Santi took off his glove before placing his hands in hers. Her fingers were still cold, and her hand was small, but the touch made him feel like something warm and good tingled up and down his arm. Like sunshine.
“It’s a promise.” She nodded, squeezing his hand. Then her phone started to ring. It was an alarm. Santi glanced at the clock he’d seen above the cashier. It was midnight. Kira immediately gasped and grabbed his arm, using it as an anchor to jump up excitedly.
“Happy New Year!” she exclaimed, giggling as she continued jumping. The rest of the store was silent, like nothing extremely important had happened—the person behind the counter said a casual, “happy new year!” and continued to serve Santi’s food, and the street outside was still quiet. But they might as well have been standing in the middle of fireworks, the way Kira was so excited.
“You’re not going to get taller, even if you do that,” he told her, a smile playing on her lips as her cheeks flushed red from the exercise. She was just so happy.
“And yet I see you’re wearing red stripes for luck and more bills,” she told him, poking the little exposed part of his sweater under his wool coat. “Clever and sartorial.”
“Coincidental,” he pointed out, because he didn’t know wearing stripes was a New Year thing. Polka dots for more coins, yes, but stripes? Really. “But I think you’re forgetting the more important midnight tradition.”
“The kiss?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “It doesn’t really do anything, does it?”
“It can seal a promise,” Santi pointed out, unsure why he was pushing for this. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need a midnight kiss to feel better. But she was here, and it was midnight. He just needed to dosomethingto firmly put his bad year behind him, and start looking forward to a new one.One last blessing. One last good thing to end this.
“Okay,” she said, with a little nod. Then she closed her eyes, and Santi lowered his head, just enough to capture her lips in his. The kiss was soft and lasted only for a moment, but Santi felt warmed up, and comfortable, like the cold under his skin had finally thawed. He could remember what it was like to feel like himself again. Maybe he was the one who’d needed a kiss to wake up.
