Chapter Text
The heavy thud of a suitcase hitting the wooden floor echoed through the hallway of the Lim household.
"I still don't get it," Patty grumbled, leaning against the doorframe of Mikha's bedroom. Her arms were crossed over her chest, watching her older sister shove a ridiculous amount of black oversized shirts into a luggage bag. "You have a great job here. You have your friends. You have us. Why are you suddenly packing up your entire life to move across the world?"
Mikha didn't look up, focused on forcing the zipper closed. "It's not sudden, Pat. I've been planning this for months. And I'm not packing up my life, I'm just moving it."
"To Manila," Patty said flatly.
"To BGC," Mikha corrected, finally stepping back from the bulging suitcase and brushing her signature red hair out of her face. She flashed her sister a quick, gummy smile. "Come on, don't look so grumpy. It's going to be fun."
"Fun," Lorenz repeated, walking into the room with a half-eaten apple in his hand. He took a loud bite. "She thinks moving to a city with the worst traffic in the world is fun. I think the altitude finally got to your brain, little sis."
Mikha threw a rolled-up pair of socks at him, which he easily dodged. "Shut up, Kuya. You know exactly what I mean. New Zealand is great, yeah? It's safe, it's green, the air is fresh. But it's so... quiet."
"Quiet is good," Patty argued. "Quiet means peaceful."
"Quiet means boring," Mikha countered, collapsing onto her unmade bed. She stared up at the ceiling, her casual demeanor shining through. "I wake up, I drive to the airport, I fly the plane, I come home, I sleep. Rinse and repeat. Everyone is so polite. The weather is predictable. The sheep outnumber the people. I need a change of scenery. I want some noise. I want the chaos."
Lorenz chuckled, leaning against the wall next to Patty. "You're literally begging for stress. Siraulo talaga. Good luck finding your 'chaos' when you're stuck on EDSA for three hours."
"At least it's a different kind of stress," Mikha shrugged, unfazed. "Plus, I already bought the condo. Can't back out now. And BGC is nice! I saw pictures. Lots of coffee shops, bars, cool places to hang out."
"Have you even figured out your work schedule there?" Patty asked, her tone softening a bit. She walked over and sat on the edge of Mikha's bed.
"Yeah, my transfer is all sorted out," Mikha said, propping herself up on her elbows. "Still doing long-haul flights. I'll be based out of NAIA now. It's the same job, just a different starting point. Same sky, different ground."
"You sound like a cheesy commercial," Lorenz teased.
"Get out of my room, bro," Mikha laughed, throwing another pair of socks.
Before Lorenz could retaliate, the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway made them all pause. Myrna, their mother, walked in holding a stack of neatly folded towels. Her face held that familiar mix of parental worry and resignation. Johnny followed close behind her, holding a small tool kit.
"O, bakit kayo nag-aaway na naman dyan?" Myrna asked, setting the towels on Mikha's desk. She looked at the overflowing suitcases. "Anak, are you sure those zippers will hold? Baka bumukas 'yan sa eroplano."
"It's fine, Ma," Mikha said, sitting up properly. "I used the heavy-duty ones. They'll survive."
Johnny shook his head, opening his tool kit to hand Mikha a small universal travel adapter. "You always pack too much. Kahit nung bata ka pa, you'd bring five toys for a overnight trip. Make sure you bring this. The outlets there are different."
"Thanks, Pa," Mikha took the adapter, tossing it into her backpack.
Myrna sighed, sitting on the chair by the desk. She looked at her middle child, her eyes softening. "Are you really sure about this, Mikha? Malayo ang Pilipinas. We won't be there to check on you. Wala kang kasama sa condo mo."
"Ma, I'm literally a pilot," Mikha said gently, her tone losing the playful edge she had with her siblings. "I fly hundreds of people across oceans for a living. I think I can handle living in a condo by myself."
"Iba 'yung nagpapalipad ng eroplano sa namumuhay mag-isa sa Maynila," Myrna insisted, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive. "It's different there. The culture is different. Yes, you are Filipino, but you grew up here. Iba ang ugali ng mga tao doon. You have to be careful."
"I know, Ma. I'm not a kid anymore. I know how to look out for myself." Mikha gave her mom a reassuring smile. "Besides, I'm just looking for something new. I promise I'll be careful. I won't do anything stupid."
"That's a lie," Lorenz muttered from the doorway.
"Kuya, swear to God, I will dropkick you," Mikha shot back.
"Tama na 'yan," Johnny intervened, though he was smiling. "Your sister is making a big move. Let's be supportive. Kahit na sa tingin ko rin ay nababaliw na siya."
Mikha groaned, falling back onto her pillows. "Not you too, Pa."
"I'm just saying," Johnny chuckled, walking over to pat Mikha's leg. "It's a big adjustment. But you're smart. You'll figure it out. Just remember to lock your doors, don't trust strangers too easily, and always call us."
"I will, Pa. Every day if you want."
"Wag naman every day," Myrna said, standing up to fix the fold of a shirt peeking out of a bag. "Nakaka-abala rin 'yon. But call us when you land. And send pictures of the condo. Gusto kong makita kung sulit 'yung binayad mo dyan."
"I will, Ma. I promise."
"Alright, let's go eat," Johnny announced, clapping his hands together. "Your mama made kare-kare for your last night here. Para daw may baon kang swerte."
"Wait, really?" Mikha's eyes lit up. "With the good bagoong?"
"Siyempre," Myrna smiled proudly. "Kaya bumaba na kayo dyan. The food is getting cold."
The parents left the room, leaving the three siblings alone again. Patty looked at Mikha, the grumpy expression replaced by genuine sadness.
"I'm going to miss you, you know," Patty mumbled, picking at the loose threads on Mikha's blanket.
Mikha's expression softened. She reached out and ruffled Patty's hair. "I'll miss you too, Pat. But hey, now you have an excuse to visit the Philippines. I have a guest room. You can come over for the summer holidays. We can go to the beach. Palawan, Boracay, wherever."
"I'm holding you to that," Patty warned, fixing her hair.
"I expect free flights," Lorenz added, finally tossing the apple core into the trash bin. "If you're making the big bucks living in a fancy BGC condo, you can afford to fly your favorite brother out."
"You're my only brother, idiot," Mikha laughed. "And we'll see. If you behave."
"I always behave," Lorenz smirked. "Now hurry up. I want the good cuts of beef before Pa eats them all."
He walked out, leaving Patty and Mikha. Mikha stood up, stretching her arms above her head. She looked around her room. The posters on the wall, the messy desk, the view of the quiet, predictable suburban street outside her window. She loved this place. She really did. But the restless energy inside her bones had been buzzing for over a year now, demanding motion, demanding something unpredictable.
"You really think you'll find what you're looking for over there?" Patty asked quietly, standing by the door.
Mikha grabbed her phone and slipped it into her pocket. She gave her sister a relaxed, confident shrug. "Honestly? No idea. But I'm going to have a lot of fun trying to find out."
Dinner was loud, filled with the usual Lim family overlapping chatter. The dining table was packed with food, a testament to Myrna's love language.
"So, what's the first thing you're going to do when you get to the condo?" Johnny asked, scooping more rice onto his plate.
"Sleep," Mikha answered immediately, her mouth full of kare-kare. "The flight is going to be brutal. I just want to land, get the keys, and face-plant onto my new mattress."
"Don't forget to inspect the unit first," Lorenz chimed in. "Check the water pressure. Check the locks. Check the aircon. Wag kang tanga, Miks. Don't just sign the turnover papers without looking."
"I'm not stupid, Kuya," Mikha rolled her eyes. "The agent already did a video tour with me last week. Everything is brand new. The building is super secure. You need a keycard just to use the elevator."
"Oh, fancy," Patty teased. "Miss Independent over here."
"I try," Mikha grinned.
"Basta, mag-iingat ka," Myrna said, passing a bowl of vegetables to Mikha. "Wag kang lalabas ng gabi mag-isa. And make sure you know where the nearest hospital and police station are. Just in case."
"Ma, BGC is basically a bubble," Mikha reassured her, trying to ease her mother's anxiety. "It's safe. It's not like the movies. I'll be fine."
"I know, I know," Myrna sighed, shaking her head. "Kahit kailan talaga, ang tigas ng ulo mo. Just like your father."
"O, bakit ako nadamay dyan?" Johnny protested, laughing. "Siya ang gustong umalis, hindi ako."
"Kanino pa ba magmamana ng kalokohan 'yan?" Myrna shot back playfully.
Mikha just smiled, letting the familiar rhythm of her family's banter wash over her. She knew she was going to miss this. The easy comfort, the safety of knowing everyone around her. But the comfort was exactly what was suffocating her. She needed to step out of the nest.
After dinner, the house slowly grew quiet. The boxes were moved to the front door, the bags were zipped and locked. Mikha found herself standing on the back porch, leaning against the wooden railing, staring out at the cool New Zealand night. The air was crisp, silent except for the distant chirp of crickets.
The sliding door opened, and Lorenz stepped out, handing her a cold beer.
"Thanks," Mikha murmured, cracking it open.
"You good?" Lorenz asked, leaning against the railing next to her.
"Yeah. Just taking it all in." Mikha took a sip. "Feels weird. Knowing I won't be standing here tomorrow."
Lorenz nodded, looking out into the dark yard. "You know, for a long time, I thought you were just talking big. When you said you were going to move to the Philippines, I thought it was just a phase. Like when you wanted to be a professional skateboarder in high school."
"I was good at skateboarding," Mikha defended defensively.
"You broke your arm twice in one month, Miks."
"Details."
Lorenz laughed softly. "I'm just saying, you actually went and did it. Bought the condo, transferred your job. You're crazy, you know that?"
"I prefer adventurous," Mikha smirked.
"Sure. Adventurous." Lorenz clinked his bottle against hers. "Just... don't be a stranger, alright? You better pick up when I call. And don't let the city eat you alive."
"It won't," Mikha said firmly. "I'm too stubborn for that."
"Yeah, you are." Lorenz finished his beer in one long gulp. "Alright. Get some sleep. Pa is driving us to the airport at 5 AM. If you're late, he's going to throw a fit."
"I won't be late. Night, Kuya."
"Night, Miks."
Mikha stayed on the porch a little longer after Lorenz went back inside. She finished her drink, letting the cold air clear her head. Tomorrow, the quiet ends. Tomorrow, the chaos begins. And honestly? She couldn't wait.
The drive to the airport the next morning was a blur of sleepy eyes and overstuffed trunks. Johnny had the radio playing a mix of old 80s rock songs, humming along while Myrna aggressively triple-checked Mikha's travel documents in the passenger seat.
"Passport?" Myrna asked for the fourth time.
"Got it, Ma," Mikha said from the backseat, squished between Patty and Lorenz.
"Boarding pass? Visas? Condo papers?"
"Ma, everything is in the folder in my backpack. I promise. Stop stressing."
"Di ko maiwasan," Myrna muttered, clutching her purse. "Your first time living away from us. Siyempre, mag-aalala ako."
"She'll be fine, Ma," Patty yawned, leaning her head on Mikha's shoulder. "She's a tough cookie."
"More like a burnt cookie," Lorenz mumbled, eyes closed.
Mikha elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"Aray!"
"Kids, behave," Johnny warned from the driver's seat. "We're almost there."
The airport was bustling even at that early hour. The bright fluorescent lights felt harsh against their tired eyes. Mikha grabbed a trolley, loading her massive suitcases onto it with Lorenz's help.
They stood near the international departure gates. The energy in the air was chaotic—people rushing, announcements blaring over the speakers, families crying as they said their goodbyes. It was exactly the kind of energy Mikha thrived in.
"Well," Mikha started, turning to her family. "This is it."
Patty was the first to break, tears welling up in her eyes. She hugged Mikha tightly, burying her face in Mikha's jacket. "I'm really going to miss you, Miks. Don't replace me with cooler friends over there."
Mikha hugged her back, resting her chin on Patty's head. "Never. You're stuck with me forever, Pat. Text me when you get home."
Lorenz stepped up next, offering a fist bump before pulling her into a quick, rough hug. "Be smart over there. Wag magpapabudol. And seriously, find the good coffee spots so I know where to go when I visit."
"Got it, Kuya. Take care of them for me."
Mikha turned to her parents. Johnny pulled her into a tight embrace, patting her back firmly. "We are proud of you, anak. Whatever happens, just remember you always have a home here. Ingat ka palagi. Wag kalimutan magdasal."
"I will, Pa. Thank you for everything."
Finally, she faced her mother. Myrna's eyes were already red. She cupped Mikha's cheeks, looking at her intently. "Mag-iingat ka doon, ha? Kumain ka sa tamang oras. Wag puro trabaho. And please, reply immediately when we text."
"I promise, Ma," Mikha smiled gently, wiping a stray tear from her mother's cheek. "I'll be okay. Don't worry too much. Mamimiss ko kayo."
"Mamimiss ka rin namin," Myrna sniffled, hugging her tight.
"Flight 842 to Manila, now boarding all zones," the automated voice echoed through the terminal.
Mikha pulled away, grabbing the handle of her trolley. She took a deep breath, looking at her family one last time. "Alright. I gotta go."
"Call us when you land!" Myrna shouted as Mikha started walking towards the security gates.
"I will!" Mikha waved back, flashing her signature gummy smile.
She turned around, handing her passport and ticket to the security personnel. As she walked through the scanner, leaving her family and her quiet life behind, a sudden rush of adrenaline hit her system. The heavy baggage she was dragging suddenly felt light.
She walked down the long corridor towards her gate, her red hair catching the morning light filtering through the massive airport windows. She put her earphones in, blasting some upbeat track, her steps matching the rhythm.
New Zealand was safe. It was home. But she didn't want safe anymore.
She boarded the plane, easily settling into her seat. As the engines roared to life and the aircraft began its ascent, lifting her away from the green hills and the polite society she knew all her life, Mikha looked out the window.
"Watch out, Manila," Mikha muttered to herself with a smirk. "Ready or not, here I come."