Archive of Our Own

“ Aye, anak, anong nangyari sa iyo? ” 

Sett doesn’t have it in him to look his mom in the eyes. He can feel it, too, by the way she wipes his falling tears with her hands: her worried gaze, her staunch attitude. Her lips are probably quivering like his, trying to hold back the dam so that Sett won’t worry about her and focus on the main problem at hand.

But he’s just been stabbed in the heart, and Sett’s not sure how long he can keep the tears at bay. 

So he doesn’t look her in the eyes, closing his own instead, and submitting himself to the fate of being coddled by her through soft sniffles. 

“‘S nothing, Ma,” Sett finally answers back, his voice shaky and uneven. “Nothing happened.” 

“Then why are you crying?” 

It’s hard to answer. In truth, nothing big really happened. He was hanging out with a friend, a new one he met on the streets by fighting – although, in front of Ma, it’s called rough-housing – a few days ago. Sett doesn’t make a lot of friends with kids his age, let alone a human that accepts him having animal ears and tail. 

It wasn’t his physical attributes that the boy couldn’t look past this time. It was the moment earlier today, when Sett found him bruised and wounded, taking shelter in a back alley. Sett hadn’t known what to do; his new friend was doing what he’s doing now, trying to regain composure while desperately trying to keep tears at bay. 

After the initial shock, Sett’s body moved on its own. He held the other boy tight, brushing his tears away, and hoisted him up. Hands interlaced, Sett guided him further down the alley to try to find him more privacy. He doesn’t remember how long he held his friend in a warm embrace, but his heart fluttered in his chest. It’s what Ma would do for him; what Ma’s doing now for Sett. 

But after his friend regained composure, he pushed Sett away, yanked his hand away from the Vastayan male, and fled. 

They also exchanged some heated words in-between, swords sharpened to a fine edge that cleave Sett’s heart in two. But he’d rather forget those words and instead pretend his friend never uttered them in the first place. 

In the present, Sett sighs, the dam behind his eyes barricaded with new boards, and says: “... Ma? Boys can… hug other boys, right?” 

His ma chuckles, ruffling his hair. “Of course, anak .” 

“And also… hold hands? And wipe away tears while the other is crying? And maybe… lean in to kiss their forehead?” 

His ma doesn’t say anything, just studies his face, a knowing smile slowly forming. “Yes, Settrigh, boys are allowed to that with other boys.” 

Sett shifts. If that’s the case, why did his friend swing that sword? Why do those words haunt him? ‘ Boys don’t do that to each other! That’s wrong! ’

“If I… kunyari lang , I did those things to another boy who’s my friend… does that mean I like him?”

“Of course, anak, he’s your friend.”

“N-No, I meant like like. Y’know…” 

His ma kneels down to his height, brushing some stray strands of hair away from his face. “Do you?” 

“I mean… k-kunyari lang , I didn’t actually do any of this stuff!” It hurts to lie to his mom, but the pain from the swords in his heart are worse. 

“Settrigh…” His ma softly coos. She brushes a few tears away from his face. “Remember when we went to the Vastaya village?” 

Sett finally looks up at her, nodding, but his brows are creased in confusion. Why is his mom bringing this up now?

“Remember all those people we met? Families that had two mothers, or two fathers. Remember Havan?”

Sett remembers him. An avian Vastaya who acted as a caretaker for kids who had no mothers and fathers. They were kind to Sett, and even kinder and gentler to the little twerps that bothered Sett that day. 

“Yeah… you told me that they were special. They aren’t he or she or whatever.” 

“There’s a lot of people out there, anak , that are different than what human society are used to. People aren’t used to our ears, or our tail, or other parts of us that make us different than them.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Sett grunts bitterly. His Ma coos softly in response, stroking his tear-stained cheek. 

“But the same is true for humans. There are humans who are like Havan who aren’t male or female. There are human families like the ones you saw with some children having two dads or two moms, or one mom like you.” 

Sett smiles at that, clasping his hand over hers. “And yer the best Ma ever.”

“ Salamat , Settrigh,” His ma says. “What I’m trying to say is, humans can be like Vastayas in that way, but it’s not as common like in our culture. Some people find it strange, like our ears and tail. But what they don’t know… is that it’s a part of you. It’s not something you can change, but something you must accept . And those who love you, will keep loving you for who you really are.” 

The sword in his heart finally loosens, unsheathing itself with every breath. It hurts, of course, but the initial sting ebbs away just feeling his mother’s support.

“And if I told you I did like like that boy…” 

“I’d say, ‘Follow your heart, Settrigh. You’re still young, but you’re that age, na, that you are growing into your own man. And I will support you and love you all the same.’” 

And with that, the sword is gone, and his heart is mending itself back together. 

But the dam breaks, and he can’t help the tears that fall this time. 

Why was he so afraid of an answer that he knew in his heart would never be uttered by his loving mother? 

“... I love you, Ma.” 

A feather-light kiss brushes against his forehead. 

“ Mahal na mahal kita, Settrigh. I love you, too.”