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Summary
“I smell you on my clothes, Colet.”
“That’s because you’re wearing my clothes, Maloi.”
Or, wherein Maloi and Colet met in college, had a falling out, and met again years later in front of a tertiary hospital in Manila. No longer carrying tackle boxes and pristine white uniforms that get easily stained. Instead, they carry themselves with pride and eternal exhaustion with two letters boldly sewed on their white coats succeeding their names.