CIE'S POV
"We will start by introducing ourselves. So I will begin."
It was already the fourth day of school, and the class had settled into silence as our instructor stood at the front, holding a folder in one hand.
"I am Mirasol Gomez, 34 years old. I've been teaching in this school for over nine years. I will be your instructor for this first semester subject—Purposive Communication." Her voice was clear and firm, the kind that easily commanded attention.
"Okay, class," she continued, scanning the room. "It is now your turn. We'll start from left to right, and so on."
The first student stood up. "Good morning, everyone. Vince Castillo here. Nice meeting you all."
"That's it?" Miss Gomez asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"That's it, ma'am," Vince answered politely.
"Alright then. Next."
"Rob Cuizon, 18." Short. Straight to the point.
Then—
"Hi, Dale Amatsuji, 19…" he paused briefly, then added, "and single."
The room erupted into laughter and claps—mostly from the girls. I blinked. Seriously?
I found it weirdly funny that he included that. Out of all things.
"Your turn," he said casually when he reached me his desk.
I stood up.
"My name is Cierra Linali Luchavez. I am currently 18 years old. Nice meeting you all."
"You have a very unique name, dear," Miss Gomez commented with a small smile.
"Thank you, ma'am," I replied before sitting down.
Next was Ven. "Hi, everyone! I am Veronica Manuel. I am currently 18 years old and will be turning 19 this May—next year. Thank you, nice meeting with everyone!
I glanced at her.
Longest introduction so far. Of course.
"I am Jeedtzy Fonbuena. Nice to meet you."
Jesy's turn was short and simple—as expected.
The introductions continued around the room until everyone had their turn.
Once it ended, Miss Gomez clapped her hands lightly.
"We still have over 30 minutes left," she said. "So I'll make use of it by giving you an activity that you need to pass before our time runs out."
A few groans were heard.
I just leaned back slightly.
She lifted a small box from her table.
"I have here a box containing questions. You will pick one and answer it in your own words. This activity will help me determine how well you communicate your thoughts."
Then, her eyes landed on me.
"Let's start with you." I blinked.
I stood up and walked toward the front, feeling a few pairs of eyes on me.
I reached into the box and picked one folded piece of paper. Then I went back to my seat.
I unfolded the paper and read it silently.
What is your own understanding of love?
Before I could even process the question, Miss Gomez spoke again.
"Remember," she said, "there is no right or wrong answer. Feel free to write what's on your mind."
"What was your question all about, Cie?" Ven asked as soon as Miss Gomez left the room.
I leaned back slightly in my chair.
"Mine?" she continued before I could even answer. "It was about what I would do if I only had three days to live."
I glanced at her. "Okay…"
"And I answered that first, I'd find a very handsome guy, then make love with him, then next is eat my favorite foods—"
"Are you kidding me?" I cut her off.
She blinked at me.
"What?" she asked, like she didn't just say something completely ridiculous. This girl is really clueless.
"Make love?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. I stared at her. "Seriously? That's what you wrote in the paper you passed to Miss Gomez? Are you even thinking?"
"Relax, Cie," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "It's just an open-minded answer."
An open-minded answer, my foot.
Jesy, beside her, quietly shook her head.
"Who wants to die without experiencing being a woman?" Ven added, completely unfazed. "Besides, it's on me if I get called to guidance."
I sighed. "Whatever, Ven."
"Yeah, yeah," she waved it off. Then leaned closer again. "So what really was your question?"
I paused for a second. "It's just about my understanding of love."
"Your understanding of love?" Ven asked, leaning closer as she had just found something interesting.
"Yeah," I answered simply.
"So what's your understanding of love?" she pressed. "What did you write?"
If others see love as something soft… or like a fantasy, then I see it differently.
I see love as a battle.
But not the kind where you fight enemies with weapons. It's a battle between you and yourself—your overthinking, your insecurities, your jealousy.
Those things don't hurt you physically… but they can ruin you emotionally.
It's not like a real war where a commander is telling you what to do. In love, you're on your own. Every move, every decision… It's all on you.
You can win… or you can lose.
There's always a chance of getting hurt.
Or even betrayed.
It's not your blood that's shed… but your tears instead.
And since it's a battle, there are different kinds of warriors.
Some have been through countless battles before—fights they didn't always win. Yet they keep stepping into the battlefield again, still hoping… or maybe even praying… that one day, they'll finally win.
They're not afraid to fall or lose. Instead, they believe every loss makes them stronger… wiser… more prepared for the next battle.
And then some lose once—
Just once—
And swear to never fight again.
They walk away from the battlefield entirely, choosing silence over risk… distance over pain.
Because for them—
One loss was already enough.
Some warriors are afraid—so they choose to hide, waiting for the battle to be won without ever stepping onto the field.
Some warriors surrender halfway, not because they're weak… but because they're already too tired to keep fighting.
And in the end—
Love isn't just about finding someone to stand beside you.
It's about whether you're brave enough to fight…even when you know you might lose.
"Hey, you're spacing out!" I blinked, snapping back to reality. "I've been calling your name countless times already."
"Whatever, Ven."
"So, are you gonna answer my question or what?"
"How about no?"
Ven gasped as I had just committed a crime. "Excuse me?!"
Jesy, beside her, let out a small sigh. "You asked. She said no."
"Traitor," Ven muttered, pointing at her.
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "You don't always get what you want, Ven."
"Wow," she scoffed. "So cold. So heartless. And here I am, genuinely interested in your love life—"
"I don't have a love life."
"Yet,"
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Don't start."
"Oh, I already started," she shot back, clearly enjoying herself. "You don't have a love life… yet."
Jesy let out a quiet laugh beside her.
I rolled my eyes. "You're so dramatic."
"Am I?" Ven leaned closer, resting her chin on her hand. "Because from where I'm sitting, things are starting to get interesting."
I scoffed lightly. "In your imagination, maybe."
"Mm-hmm," she hummed, clearly not convinced. "One mysterious admirer, one rich 'mayor', and one—"
"Finish that sentence, and I swear—"
"—and one Zane," she said anyway, grinning.
I stared at her. I exhaled sharply, looking straight ahead. "As I said," I muttered, "I don't have a love life. And why do you have to mention our class mayor? He doesn't like me, 'kay?"
Ven leaned back, crossing her arms with a satisfied look. "That's not what I observed, Cie."
I shot her a look. "And what exactly did you observe?"
She raised an eyebrow. "The way he looks at you? Please. Even a blind person could notice."
I stared at both of them. "You're overthinking."
"Am I?" Ven smirked. "And about Zane—"
Here we go.
"I think you two are getting close," she continued casually, like she wasn't dropping something huge. "We don't even know… maybe next month, you two are already—"
"Already what, huh, Ven?" I cut her off, my tone sharper than before. She grinned.
I exhaled, shaking my head. "You know what? Let's drop the topic."
Ven raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay—fine. Dropped."
Peace. At last.
…Or so I thought.
"—But just so you know," Ven added after a second, unable to help herself, "I'm just saying facts—"
"Ven."
"Okay! Just kidding!" she laughed, zipping her lips dramatically.
Jesy shook her head.