"Ashes of Crestfall: The Rise of Aaron San Agustin"

All that mattered was the silence of the sleeping village around him, the steady hum of cicadas, and the feeling of belonging that filled the dark spaces inside him with light.

Then came the knock.

It was soft at first, almost hesitant, tapping gently against the wooden front door. Aaron lay still on his thin mattress, eyes open, listening to the quiet echo through the bungalow's narrow hallway. Aunt Colleen's footsteps approached from her room, and a moment later he heard the door creak open.

He sat up, slipping his feet into his sandals, and stepped out into the dim hallway. The yellow bulb above the dining table flickered faintly, illuminating Aunt Colleen standing at the doorway with her shawl wrapped tightly around her thin shoulders.

She glanced back at him, eyes shadowed with fatigue and something deeper—sadness, perhaps, or fear. On the other side of the doorway stood Mrs. Delos Reyes, their elderly neighbor who often brought them guavas and bananas from her orchard.

Aaron inclined his head in greeting. The old woman's eyes glimmered with relief at the sight of him.

"I'm sorry to come this late," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I just… I didn't want to wait until morning."

Aunt Colleen guided her inside, seating her gently on the wooden bench by the window. Aaron stood by silently, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the old woman gather her words.

"Tomorrow," she began slowly, "the Village Chief's gathering will be a good day. Everyone will be there, and it will be… joyful. But, Colleen…" She paused, her frail hands twisting in her lap. "There is something I need to ask."

Aaron saw his aunt's expression soften. She reached out, placing a hand over Mrs. Delos Reyes' trembling fingers.

"What is it?" Colleen asked softly.

The old woman's eyes flicked briefly to Aaron before returning to Colleen. "After the party… could you bring Aaron to visit her grave? It has been so long since anyone cleaned it properly."

Silence fell over the room. Outside, the cicadas hummed louder in the still night air.

Colleen's shoulders slumped slightly as she nodded, her eyes glistening. "Yes… yes, of course."

The old woman looked down, tears slipping silently onto her thin wrists. "Your sister was a good woman. She deserves to be remembered with dignity."

Aaron remained still, feeling a deep ache pulse in his chest. His mother's grave. Memories flickered through his mind—of her weary eyes, her thin hands braiding his hair before school, her quiet prayers whispered before dawn when she thought he was asleep.

For years, he'd buried every thought of her under duty and pain, locking them away in a place too raw to touch. Now, hearing her name spoken aloud, he felt the old wounds stir.

After Mrs. Delos Reyes left, Aunt Colleen sat quietly at the table, staring at the flickering bulb above. Aaron poured her a cup of warm water and placed it in front of her. She reached for it absentmindedly, her gaze distant.

"She's right," Colleen whispered finally. "Your mother's grave… it hasn't been visited in so long. I was waiting for you to come home so we could go together."

He stood beside her in silence, watching the shadows shift across her tired face.

"She loved you, Aaron," she continued, her voice breaking. "Even when she was sick and fading… you were the only thing she prayed about. That you'd grow up strong… that you'd survive this world."

Aaron's throat felt tight. The cicadas hummed louder outside the open window, the warm breeze rustling the thin curtains.

"We'll go after the party tomorrow," Colleen said softly, her gaze turning to him. "She would have wanted that."

He nodded once, unable to find his voice. The ache in his chest deepened, but beneath it burned something else—a quiet vow that he would no longer run from the past. Not from her. Not from himself.

That night, as he lay back down on his mattress, the silence felt different. Heavy with old grief, yes, but also with something steadier—resolve. Because tomorrow, after the celebration, he would finally return to the place he had avoided all his life.

He would stand before his mother's grave.

And this time, he would not bow his head in shame.