Chapter Text
June 15, 2026
Monday
For the first time in nearly three weeks—
The Senate stopped talking about itself.
The Sarangani earthquake had done what weeks of political infighting could not.
It reminded everyone that there were still people outside the marble halls waiting for the government to function.
Senator Risa Hontiveros stood under the blistering sun as another truck unloaded relief supplies outside a provincial hospital.
Doctors greeted her.
Nurses briefed her.
Children waved shyly from inside the temporary evacuation tents.
The damage was worse in person.
Concrete cracked open like eggshells.
School buildings condemned.
Families sleeping under tarpaulins stretched between trees.
Her staff walked a pace behind, balancing clipboards, bottled water, schedules, and three constantly ringing phones.
"Ma'am, next po tayo sa evacuation center."
Risa nodded.
"Okay."
Before she could take another step—
Buzz.
Her staff glanced at the phone.
Sherwin's staffer.
Sherwin Staffer:
Confirmed na.
Special session.
The younger woman looked up.
"They confirmed it."
Risa stopped walking.
"When?"
"June 17."
Silence.
Not surprise.
Not disappointment.
Just calculation.
She looked back toward the evacuation center.
"...Move our flight."
"Ma'am?"
"We're going back tonight."
"But we were supposed to—"
"The special session takes priority."
She looked toward the volunteers still unloading boxes.
"We'll finish here."
"We'll stay until the last truck."
"Then we go home."
Hundreds of kilometers away—
Inside the Senate—
Nobody said the words out loud.
Not yet.
Not even in private.
Sherwin Gatchalian's staffer noticed it first.
No one said—
"Senate President."
Instead—
"...After Wednesday."
"...Pag natapos na."
"...Kapag okay na."
As though saying the title aloud might somehow scare away the last remaining vote.
The atmosphere inside the office had changed.
The jokes were quieter.
The phones rang more often.
Staff came and went carrying folders instead of cameras.
Political advisers occupied conference rooms once reserved for social media planning.
Even the cameraman had put his equipment aside.
There was nothing to film.
Only meetings.
Meeting after meeting.
Door opening.
Door closing.
Quiet conversations behind frosted glass.
Sherwin himself barely stayed inside his office.
One senator arrived.
Left.
Another arrived twenty minutes later.
Then another.
Coffee was replaced before it had time to cool.
His lunch remained untouched.
The staffer walked past his office around two in the afternoon.
Through the slightly open door—
She caught only one sentence.
"...we need stability."
Sherwin's voice.
Calm.
Measured.
"...People are already tired."
Then the door closed.
For the first time in days—
Twitter received nothing.
No likes.
No replies.
No accidental heart reactions.
No doomscrolling.
Nothing.
The staffer refreshed his activity page twice.
Still nothing.
She leaned back in her chair.
"...Finally."
Character development.
Her phone buzzed.
Risa's staffer.
Risa Staffer:
Pauwi na kami mamaya.
Sherwin Staffer:
Akala ko bukas pa?
Typing.
Risa Staffer:
Hindi pwede.
Special session.
Kailangan present si Ma'am.
Sherwin's staffer smiled faintly.
Even hundreds of kilometers apart—
Politics still dictated everything.
A few minutes later—
She typed again.
Sherwin Staffer:
Tahimik boss ko today.
Seen.
Then typing.
Stopped.
Typing again.
Risa Staffer:
Buti pa siya.
Sherwin's staffer frowned.
Sherwin Staffer:
Ha?
This time—
The reply took almost a minute.
Risa Staffer:
Dumadami na kasi nagtatanong.
She blinked.
Sherwin Staffer:
Tungkol sa WinRi?
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Returned.
Risa Staffer:
Hindi lang online.
Kahit in person.
The staffer's fingers paused above the keyboard.
She thought about replying with a joke.
Instead—
Sherwin Staffer:
Sorry.
Almost immediately—
Risa Staffer:
Hindi naman kasalanan ng boss mo.
...
Siguro.
Sherwin's staffer laughed despite herself.
Then—
Another message.
Risa Staffer:
Ma'am ignores it.
Pero...
Typing.
Stopped.
Typing again.
Risa Staffer:
Mas tahimik lang siya lately.
That was all.
No explanations.
No gossip.
No names.
Just...
An observation.
People who worked beside someone every day noticed when routines changed.
Not because anyone announced them.
Because silence had its own patterns.
Sherwin's staffer looked down at the conversation.
Closed the chat.
She suddenly felt guilty.
The internet had turned something harmless into an entire ecosystem.
Edits.
Compilations.
Slow-motion glances.
Heart reactions.
It had been funny.
Still was.
Mostly.
But somewhere—
The jokes had become questions.
Questions had become assumptions.
Assumptions had become conversations that neither senator had asked to be part of.
Late afternoon settled over Pasay.
One by one—
The meetings ended.
Sherwin finally emerged from the conference room.
Eyes tired.
Still carrying three folders.
His staffer stood.
"Sir?"
"Hm?"
"...May kailangan pa po ba?"
Sherwin looked around the office.
Half the lights were already off.
People were quietly packing up.
He shook his head.
"Uwi na kayo."
"Sigurado po?"
"We'll have a long Wednesday."
She nodded.
"Good night, sir."
"Good night."
He disappeared into his office one last time.
Probably to finish another stack of paperwork.
Probably to make another phone call.
Probably to count votes.
Again.
The staffer slung her bag over one shoulder.
As she passed the strategy room—
She stopped.
Someone had written on the whiteboard.
A single number.
13
Circled.
No labels.
No explanation.
Just...
13.
The magic number.
The number everyone had been pretending not to talk about.
She stared at it for a long moment.
Three weeks ago—
Her biggest problem had been stopping her boss from liking WinRi edits on Twitter.
Now—
The entire Senate seemed to be holding its breath.
She switched off the lights.
Closed the office door behind her.
Inside—
The circled number remained alone in the darkness.
Waiting.
Just like everyone else.
For Wednesday.