Work Text:
a hundred.
There's a certain ache that comes with knowing that you've lived a hundred lifetimes with someone — then realizing that you'll have to forget all of it.
It's an ache that couldn't be comprehensible in words, and no one would even believe you when you try to explain it. Knowing that you've already lived a hundred lifetimes is crazy enough, but then there's the fact that in those hundred lifetimes, you spent them with the same person who's seen you in every single one, and stayed.
Mark almost didn't want to forget. Maybe he should've not reset the first cycle. Maybe he shouldn't have opened that CD.
But then again, Cathy's death was too open of a wound. In every lifetime too, Mark would lose Cathy, and he couldn't and wouldn't let it happen again.
It hurts too much. To lose his best friend more than anything and for it to happen every single time just hurts. It hurt more than any knife someone could stab his heart with. So every time, he thinks he'd redo time over, and over, and over again.
Well, this time didn't have a redo button. No more takebacks. No more resets. No more redo.
More importantly, no more knowing Nicole again.
How ready is he to forget all those hundred lifetimes with the love of his life?
"I guess... this is it?" He hears Nicole ask him. There's tears in her eyes, and Mark just knows he isn't the only one struggling.
The weight of this decision dawns on him, his heart getting heavier as he realizes the stake of this final reset on the both of them.
Lifetimes of experience and life together, somehow will just vanish as if they never happened. How does he comprehend the fact that he lived through all of them with Nicole? Despite knowing how much he wanted Cathy to live and to see the world, it also meant that he was letting go of everything he lived through — the payback was immense, he knew.
Once he forgets, he would not remember the memories of them running through the beach, getting married, and growing old together. In all honesty, Mark felt something crack in his heart with the realization. In that short moment, he somehow relives it all — how he held her hand for the first time, how he kissed her for the first time, how he went down on one knee to spend his life with Nicole. At the time, it felt right; it felt like pieces falling into place, like notes complimenting each other in a piano piece. At the time, he felt like he was in a perfect duet - where the world was watching them and applauding them with the performance that they've given. It was perfect, actually. Nicole filled the missing pieces of him, and he knew that he'd done the same.
In those lifetimes that they spent together, it was always them against the world. No matter how hard life was to them, he and Nicole always would've been there for each other. She was his rock - the foundation that supported him when he shook, and he could not have asked for anything or anyone else. He was happy. He still is, really. Yet he knows this is something that they need to do — for the closure that he and Nicole need. Not for them, but for their own selves.
"Maybe, maybe not," he whispers, walking towards Nicole to hold her.
Hell, it hasn't even happened yet, but it aches. It aches so much to hold her for the last time - to feel her warmth again and know it could very well be the last time. He prays so silently that this wouldn't be it. It was just so hard to let go.
How do you let go of someone who showed you what the world could be? How could you let go of someone who taught you what music sounds like?
How do you let go of someone who taught you how to live again?
There are tears welling up in his eyes now, he's sure, and he fights the urge to sob. Fights the urge to just not go through this reset, because fuck, forgetting Nicole felt like losing some part of him. The only upside was he wouldn't remember - but that's the part he fears the most, knowing that he would remember a single moment.
He feels Nicole hug him a little more tightly, and he just knows she's terrified too. How could he not? He held her like that when she was scared, and he comforts her the only way he knew how - by holding her so gently. So gently, so she feels safe, that he'd be there whatever happens. That he'd never let go.
Only this time, he has to.
He pulls back, and he looks at Nicole, wiping the tears away from her eyes. It breaks him, really, to see her so sad, to see her helpless. She's the strongest woman he's known, and somehow seeing her like this is heartbreaking, really. There are what ifs in his head now — so many, it’s never ending. But then again, there’s only one way forward, isn’t there?
“Mark,” Nicole calls, and he listens. He listens so intently that he doesn’t fight his tears. He listens and tries to remember her voice, and he hopes that even in the next lifetime, he gets to hear it again.
“Thank you for everything. For the cookies, for when the cats kidnapped you, for the time you got Junjun for me,” she says, her voice trying not to crack. “Thank you for every single time you bumped into me.”
Mark smiles - and it’s one of the bittersweet ones. One that reminisced of memories and reminded him of all the happiness.
“And thank you...” Nicole chokes out. “Thank you for always believing in me. For all of it.”
He breathes in deeply, composing himself as he speaks.
“A hundred lifetimes, huh?” He tries to joke, and Nicole can only smile at him as she sees Mark’s tears fall.
“And we lived all of them,” she says. “We really did.”
‘That’s why it always felt like I knew you, Nicole.’ He thinks, but he decides to keep it to himself. Any more, and he might just not go back — and that’s not what he, Nicole, Jake, or his mom would like. So he just looks at her, hopes that Nicole would know, and somehow she voices it out, exactly the way he did.
For the last time, he squeezes her hand, and decides that it’s time to go.
“I guess…” He trails off. It’s hard, but they’ve made up their mind, and there’s no going back now. “This is goodbye?”
Nicole looks at him, squeezing back, and replies, “I guess so.”
“Goodbye, Mark,” Nicole smiles. Mark thinks that it’s still one of the most beautiful things on Earth, and somehow, this will be the last time he’ll ever remember it. The least he could do is reciprocate it and hopefully make it easier for both him and Nicole.
Swallowing a sob, he smiles, thanks the heavens for all hundred lifetimes, before he replies with a smile of his own.
“Goodbye, Nicole.”
His eyes are starting to fill with white, and he feels the warmth of her hands as it slowly falls apart.
“You know the rest,” he hears Nicole say - and he closes his eyes, replying before everything is wiped anew.
“I think I do.”
(Mahal kita. )
Then he feels nothing.
and one.
Mark almost arrives late in the cafe, and he gasps in relief as he takes a seat. The waiter politely gives him the menu, and he quickly scans the items, before his eyes rest at the obnoxiously large cafe name at the top.
Tadhana Cafe.
‘Destiny Cafe, huh? Cheesy name,’ he thinks, but it’s not like he disagrees with how fate works. It’s just how it is, really. Things will happen for a reason, he’d think.
He orders two drinks, and waits for his date.
The bell from the cafe door chimes, and he looks up, hoping to see his date, but instead, he’s greeted by a girl with long, black hair, with a blue bow tied to the girl’s half-up. Mark accidentally makes eye contact, and his heart skips a beat.
She seemed… familiar somehow.
(Minahal kita.)
He brushes it off and gives a slight nod, and surprisingly, the girl smiles back, her eyes sparkling, and Mark thinks that he could see stars in it.
The stranger goes off to another table, leaving him be, and Mark doesn’t think much of it. Then comes his date, and they actually hit it off. As friends, unfortunately.
Mark finds out that she likes Spanish lattes, is quite interested in indie music, and knows how to go skating. She’s working in his old area, around the Liamson and Arellano area. (He mentally notes that he should visit sometime; it’s been a while, hasn’t it?) She doesn’t seem to be interested in Darkfiends, but Mark understands — it was quite the old game. Overall, they were better off as friends, and he half-curses Cathy for jinxing it altogether.
It ends on a note that it was better for them to stay as friends, but Mark doesn’t take it to heart anyway. The world is his oyster—for him to explore and experience. And besides, the world hasn’t ended yet anyway; he’ll find his match soon.
So he bids goodbye, takes his date to the taxi stand, and walks… somewhere. Anywhere really. He has no destination in mind, really—and he wanders. Thinks about today and how that blue bow girl seemed to catch his attention. He didn’t mean it, but his eyes would take a glimpse of the girl in the cafe earlier and how he’s just so... drawn to her. He feels akin to a moth, so captivated by flame. Well, the girl was pretty, definitely, but it wasn’t just that anyway. There’s a certain pull to her - and Mark couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was supposed to meet her.
Or he’s just delusional and coping over the fact that his fifth date didn’t really work out.
(Cathy would vote on the latter, and Mark wouldn’t really hear the end of it if she found out he fumbled the bag. Again.)
He shrugs it off, stumbling upon an empty playground. He takes a seat on it, absentmindedly letting the momentum of the swing move him. To and fro. To and fro until it settles. He remains idle, staring at the slowly setting sun, until there’s a voice that takes his attention away from the soft hues of orange on the horizon.
“I hope this other swing isn’t taken?”
Mark looks up, and there’s the familiar face looking down on him. She was bathed in orange and yellow, and Mark still finds the stars in her eyes, and that blue bow was still ever so big in her hair.
It’s the girl from the cafe.
He clears his throat, hoping that it wasn’t obvious that he was staring. “No, no it isn’t. Feel free to sit.”
She smiles, and Mark gets all the air knocked out of his lungs—it was one of the most beautiful things on Earth—and he fights himself because how and why was he like this? Why was he thinking about this?
“Thank you,” the girl says, and she makes herself comfortable, swinging ever so slightly.
It’s quiet, but Mark finds himself to be okay in the silence. There was only the rustle of wind and the night sky slowly enveloping them in darkness. The moon shines bright, illuminating them so gently, and Mark can’t seem to leave.
“Your date went well?” The woman asks, the first to break the quiet. Mark looks to her side, and finds her to be looking at him too. He notes that she seemed to look at him quite fondly, and Mark doesn’t find it unwelcoming. In fact, it felt right. He couldn’t explain why, but he thinks to himself, it was one that he has already experienced before… he just doesn’t remember where.
“It was okay,” he replies. “It was nice to meet her, but we decided that we were better off as friends.”
“Oh,” she says. “That’s unfortunate.”
Mark smiles, shaking his head. The girl looks at him, tilting her head in curiosity.
“It isn’t, really. It’s nice to find a friend,” he says. “How about you?”
The girl looks up at the stars, her hands holding the swing chains loosely. Mark doesn’t know why, but he thinks he might have seen this scene before.
“Same, actually. We ended up being friends too, our vibes didn’t match that well,” she smiles.
“That’s fine, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Then there’s silence surrounding them again, and he couldn’t help but steal glances to his right - exactly where he could see the bowed girl in his peripherals. He could see her look at the night sky, so quietly and so entranced by the sparkle of the stars above them.
So he does the same, until he is reminded that he needs to come home. Time has never passed so quickly, yet so slowly for him, and the breeze of the cold night takes him back to his senses.
“I should go home,” he says, and before he could leave, there’s a warm touch reaching out to him, and he feels so... so comfortable.
“Wait,” she says.
So he does, looking at her and almost seeing the gears turn in her head.
“Have we ever met before?” She asks.
“I believe not,” he replies. “Do you think we have?”
“I don’t think so either,” she says, her voice getting softer by the second. “But you feel so familiar.”
“You do too,” he admits. And there’s the beating of his heart getting louder in his chest, and he hopes that she doesn’t notice.
“Oh,” the bowed girl mutters, and she breathes a sigh of relief. “I thought it was just me.”
He laughs softly, and the girl does too, like there was some kind of inside joke that they shared.
“You’re not alone there,” Mark quips, and the woman nods. “I feel the same.”
“That’s nice to know,” she says. “I’m sorry to keep you from going home.”
Mark shakes his head, assuring her. “It’s fine. Although, I just find it quite funny.”
“What?”
“We never got to know each other’s names,” Mark remarks.
The girl stands up from the swing, brushing dust off her jeans before she reaches out her hand. She offers the same sweet smile from earlier, and Mark is reminded of how her eyes are reminiscent of the twinkling stars above. It’s cute.
“I’m Nicole. Nicole Lacsamana,” Nicole says.
“Hi Nicole,” Mark says, and her name rolls off his tongue so smoothly. Like he was meant to say it. Like he was meant to call her. “My name is Mark. Mark Borja.”
Nicole smiles, the dimples on her cheeks show up and time feels like it slowed down just for the two of them.
“Mark,” she utters. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too. And to know your name,” he jokes - and hearing her laugh feels like the easiest thing in the world. He could get used to this. Already, even.
“Likewise, Mark,” she says. “Although, we both have to go, don’t we?”
Mark nods his head, but he doesn’t forget to exchange contacts with her. He mutters a quick thank you to the deities above, thankful for the events that led him to her. Maybe, just maybe, fate does have its ways. After a quick exchange on their phones, he stores his right back in his pocket and Nicole does the same.
“I guess, this is goodbye?” He says. And Nicole smiles, shakes her head before she speaks.
“No,” she replies. “I was hoping for a ‘see you soon’.”
And so he obliges, heart feeling light as he speaks.
“See you soon, Nicole.”
(Mamahalin kita.)
