Chapter 12
Morning light filtered softly through the second-floor windows, illuminating the quiet corridors of the hospital. The night shift had ended, the nurse station now bustling with the new staff taking over. Meanwhile, the janitors began their rounds, moving from room to room to clean and tidy.
Among them was Mang Jun's eldest son, also named Jun, though most of the staff called him Junior to avoid confusion. Mang Jun had sent a text ahead, telling him about a peculiar, but kind, boy who was staying with his grandmother and quietly caring for her. He had asked Junior to share some of his food with the boy, feeling pity for his dedication and circumstance.
When Junior entered the room, he froze for a brief moment.
There, on the floor, lay the young boy, sleeping soundly, wearing nothing but a scarf to shield him from the cold tile beneath him. The scarf, Mang Jun had explained, was all the boy had to keep warm, and it seemed almost magical in its resilience.
He gave a small smile as he spoke softly.
"Hey… kid," Junior began, his voice low and gentle. "I'm Mang Jun's son, some people call me Junior. I guess that makes me… your neighbor on the floor today."
Nille stirred, blinking sleepily, the scarf shifting slightly as he adjusted.
Junior continued, crouching down to meet his gaze. "I was thinking… maybe I can find some extra-thick cardboard for you, so you can sleep a little more comfortably. That floor can't be easy on you, especially with how much you're looking after your granny."
He glanced toward Granny Amparo, still peacefully resting in her bed. "Looks like your patient is stable. But I think you'll be here a bit longer, so… take care of yourself too. Just because you're not sick doesn't mean you can't get sick."
Junior's eyes softened. "I know it's a lot for someone your age. But you've got a good heart, and… well, it's good to see someone actually taking care of their family."
He ruffled his own hair, a small, awkward gesture of reassurance. "Don't worry, I'll bring the cardboard later. You focus on Granny… and maybe eating a little too."
Nille gave a sleepy nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Junior had already place a small paper bag with some food in side and a bottle of water , and stood and straightened, quietly moving toward the door, leaving the boy to his rest, the paper bag, and the warmth of a kind presence in the room.
Nille picked up the paper bag Junior had left, carefully balancing it on his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor. He first nibbled at the sandwich Nurse Elira Santos. had given him last night, savoring it, then moved on to the small servings of rice and eggs. It wasn't much, but to Nille, it felt like a feast.
As he ate, the door opened quietly, and a member of the morning nurse shift stepped in to replace Granny Amparo's IV fluids. The nurse paused for a moment, noticing Nille seated on the floor, quietly eating his breakfast.
"Good morning po," Nille greeted politely, eyes still on the food.
The nurse smiled warmly, kneeling slightly to meet him at his level. "Good morning, young man. And… what's your name?"
Nille looked up, a small, polite smile forming. "I'm Nille po. Nille F. Tsukuyomi."
The nurse nodded, impressed by the boy's calm demeanor and clear manners. "Nille… that's a nice name. You've been taking care of your grandmother then?"
"Yes po," Nille replied softly, glancing toward Granny Amparo. "I… try to help her while she rests."
The nurse's expression softened. "I see. Well, you're doing a good job, Nille. But remember, even caregivers need to eat and rest too."
Nille gave a small nod, then returned to the tray, finishing his meal quietly.
The nurse stood, preparing the IV bag. "I'll be here checking on her every few hours. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?"
"Okay po. Thank you," Nille said, his tone respectful but gentle, returning to the quiet comfort of the morning with Granny Amparo resting peacefully beside him. at the same time the elderly man who was also inside their room was still alone, Nille felt sad for the elderly man, nobody came to watch over him, he wonders if he was related to the bus accident also or a different case, but he never like to pry on other people affairs , he has already too much on his plate already,
The quiet of the room shifted the moment the door opened again.
Nille looked up from where he sat on the floor, his instincts immediately sharpening.
Two women stepped inside.
The first was older, perhaps in her late forties. She stood around 5'4", her frame heavy and soft, her pale skin almost dull under the hospital lights. Her face was round, but not gentle—her lips were thin, often curling in irritation, and her eyes carried a constant look of dissatisfaction, as if nothing around her ever met her standards.
She wore excessive jewelry for a hospital visit, gold bracelets that clinked loudly with every movement, a thick necklace resting on her chest, and rings that caught the light with every dismissive gesture of her hand. Her clothes were neat, but loud in color and design, drawing attention more than respect.
Everything about her screamed frivolous, not just in appearance, but in presence.
The second was younger, maybe in her early twenties. She was slightly taller that Nille, even slightly shorter than Nille, with a slim figure and sharp features. Her posture was stiff, chin slightly raised, as if she refused to look down at anyone.
Her eyes were narrow, always scanning, not with curiosity, but with judgment. Her lips were pressed into a permanent half-smirk, the kind that never reached her eyes.
She held her phone tightly, occasionally glancing at it, clearly more interested in herself than the situation around her.
Nille observed them quietly.
They didn't look worried.They didn't look tired.They didn't look like people who had stayed up all night caring for someone.
Instead,
They looked annoyed.
"Ugh, it smells like medicine in here," the older woman muttered, fanning her face slightly as if the air itself offended her.
"Well, it's a hospital," the younger one replied flatly, her tone dripping with impatience. "What did you expect?"
The older woman clicked her tongue, stepping further inside. Her eyes briefly landed on Nille, sitting on the floor, eating quietly.
She frowned.
"And who is this?" she asked, not even trying to hide the irritation in her voice.
The younger one glanced at him too, her expression immediately turning dismissive.
"Probably just… someone staying here," she said, shrugging slightly. "You know how these places are."
Nille said nothing.
But in that short exchange, he understood.
They weren't just visitors.
They were the kind of people who measured worth in comfort, who saw inconvenience as injustice, and who looked at others not as people, but as obstacles or irrelevancies.
Arrogant.Self-centered.And quietly greedy, though not for survival, but for more than they already had.
Nille lowered his gaze back to his food, uninterested in engaging.
To him, they were already… predictable.
The two women didn't approach the bed. They didn't check the monitors. They didn't even look at the old man for more than a passing glance.
Instead, they stayed near the corner, their voices low, but not low enough.
"…so how long do you think this will take?" the older woman muttered, arms crossed.
The younger one sighed, clearly irritated. "Too long. The lawyer already said everything's delayed until…" she glanced toward the bed, "…you know."
"Honestly," the older woman scoffed, "he's just dragging it out at this point."
Nille's hand paused mid-air, the food forgotten for a second.
He didn't look at them.But he heard everything.
"…once this is over, we can finally settle the properties," the younger one added, her tone flattening.
Before the conversation could continue, the door opened again.
A tall man stepped in.
He carried himself with authority, well-dressed in a clean, tailored suit, his posture straight, his shoes polished to a mirror shine. Everything about him spoke of wealth and control.
But his face—
Cold.
Calculating.
His eyes moved briefly toward the old man on the bed, not with concern… but with quiet expectation.
"Still the same?" he asked, his tone sharp and impatient.
The older woman nodded. "No change."
He clicked his tongue softly, adjusting his cuff. "This is becoming inconvenient."
Nille's eyes lowered slightly.
There it was.
Not grief.Not worry.
Just… inconvenience.
But then—
A softer presence entered behind him.
A girl.
She stepped in hesitantly, almost as if she didn't belong with them. She looked to be around Nille's age, maybe just a little older. Her hands were clenched tightly in front of her, her shoulders trembling slightly.
Her eyes, red, glassy, and filled with tears, went straight to the old man on the bed.
"…Lolo…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
She didn't care about the others.Didn't care about the tension in the room.
She walked past them quietly, each step careful, like she was afraid even the sound of her footsteps might disturb him.
When she reached the bedside, she gently held his hand, both of hers wrapping around it as if trying to keep it warm.
"I'm here…" she said softly, her voice trembling. "You don't have to worry… I'm here…"
The room fell into an uneasy silence.
Behind her, the man in the suit sighed, clearly annoyed.
"Don't start that again," he said coldly. "Crying won't change anything."
The girl flinched slightly, but didn't let go.
Nille watched quietly from the floor.
For the first time since they entered,
He saw someone real.
Someone who wasn't waiting…
But hoping.
The tension in the room thickened, quiet at first like something waiting to break.
It didn't take long.
"We need to decide what to do next," the man in the suit said, his voice firm, controlled.
"This situation is dragging longer than expected."
The older woman crossed her arms. "What's there to decide? We wait. The doctor already said it's just a matter of time."
"A matter of time?" he snapped, his patience thinning. "Do you even understand how much is being delayed because of this?"
The younger woman rolled her eyes. "Oh please, don't act like you're the only one affected. We all have stakes here."
"Stakes?" he let out a dry laugh. "You mean you're waiting for your share."
"At least I'm honest about it," she shot back.
Their voices rose, sharp and cutting.
Meanwhile, by the bedside, the girl trembled slightly, but she didn't turn around. Her hands tightened around the old man's, as if anchoring herself to him.
Her name was Lin Meiying.
She was small for her age, standing just under Nille's height, with a delicate frame that made her look even more fragile than she was. Her long, straight black hair fell neatly down her back, slightly disheveled from a sleepless night. Her skin was fair, almost porcelain-like, and her eyes, dark, expressive, were now swollen from crying.
She came from the Lin family, an old and wealthy Chinese-Filipino lineage known for their dominance in import-export trade, shipping goods between the Philippines and mainland China for generations. Their business spanned ports, warehouses, and international contracts, built from decades of discipline, strategy… and, at times, ruthless decisions.
Despite their wealth, the family maintained strong ties to their roots in mainland China, traditions, language, and influence that still shaped how they operated.
Meiying didn't belong to the part of the family that only saw numbers. "Stop it…" she whispered, her voice trembling but audible, yet the arguing continued. "We need to push for early settlement," the man insisted.
"Legal?" the older woman scoffed.
"You mean manipulating the will?" "
Watch your words," he warned coldly. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm saying."
"Enough!" Meiying's voice broke through, not loud, but enough to silence the room. She turned slowly, tear-filled eyes meeting each of them. "Is this really what you're thinking about right now? Lolo is still here… he's still breathing…"
The younger woman sighed. "Meiying, you're being emotional again."
"Of course I am!" she snapped. "He's our grandfather!" "He's also the head of the family business," the man replied. "You need to understand reality." Meiying shook her head, hands clenched.
"No… you don't understand. All of you are just waiting, waiting for him to die like it's some kind of schedule!" "Watch your tone," the older woman warned. "No," Meiying said, trembling but firm. "You watch yours. You talk about him like he's already gone."
Silence lingered, heavy and suffocating. From the corner, Nille kept his gaze on her—and then something changed. At first, he thought it was the light, but no… there was a faint glow, subtle and almost invisible, tracing along her skin like a thin veil of soft gold. It wasn't like the flickering spirits, this was stable, quiet, alive. His eyes narrowed slightly.
The scarf stirred, brushing his mind. "…mixed-blood." Nille didn't move his lips, responding internally, calm and precise. Explain. A pause followed, then
"…book." His fingers twitched as he subtly shifted his body away from the others, their attention still consumed by themselves. The scarf moved like ordinary fabric, and from its folds, the worn book slipped into his hand without a sound. No one noticed. Not the man, not the women. Nille lowered his gaze, opening it just enough to hide it from view. The pages felt different now, like they weren't just paper anymore.
He flipped carefully, and the ink shifted, letters forming where there had been none before. Mixed-Blood. Individuals born from the union of a human and a non-human lineage. Traits may remain dormant for generations. Manifestation is rare. Nille's eyes moved slightly as he glanced back at Meiying. The glow was still there, faint, hidden.
The text continued: stable aura unlike wandering spirits, latent energy within the core, emotional resonance amplifying manifestation. His gaze sharpened. Emotional… that explained it. Her glow wasn't constant, it appeared now because of what she was feeling.
Another line formed: Warning, unawakened mixed-blood may attract entities. Nille closed the book slightly. That part mattered. A lot. He looked at Meiying again, small, alone, fighting people who should have protected her, and realized something unseen might one day notice her.
"…I see," he whispered faintly, as the scarf replied, "…important." Nille didn't answer. He simply watched. For the first time, he wasn't just observing, he was seeing something deeper, something hidden. And somehow, he knew this wouldn't be the last time their paths would cross.
The tension broke not with resolution, but with dismissal.
The man in the suit exhaled sharply, already losing interest. "We'll step out," he said flatly, adjusting his sleeve. "Stay here." His eyes shifted briefly to Meiying. "If anything changes… call us."
The older woman nodded in agreement. "Yes. The moment he passes, inform us immediately."
The younger one added, almost as an afterthought, "Don't delay it. The lawyer needs confirmation."
Not a single one of them looked at the old man as they turned toward the door.
Just like that,
They left.
The door clicked shut behind them, their presence fading as quickly as their concern had.
Outside the room, through the slightly open gap, Nille could see a well-dressed woman standing quietly by the hallway wall, Meiying's personal maid, waiting patiently, hands clasped, posture straight. She didn't enter, didn't speak, only glanced briefly toward the door before lowering her gaze again.
Inside, the silence returned, but it felt different now.
Heavier.
Real.
Meiying remained by the bedside, her hands still holding her grandfather's. Despite the expensive clothes she wore, clean, elegant, clearly from a life of wealth—there was nothing extravagant about her presence. No arrogance. No pride.
She was like him.
Simple… where it mattered.
Nille's eyes shifted slightly, taking in the contrast.
A wealthy family, with influence, connections, and resources,
Yet their grandfather…
Was confined in a room meant for those who had little.
Not because they couldn't afford better,
But because they chose not to.
The truth slowly settled into place.
The accident had been sudden. A bus and truck collision, chaotic and brutal. The old man had been one of the unlucky ones caught in it, his body crushed in the impact, his condition critical from the moment he arrived.
This hospital had been the closest.
And instead of transferring him…
They left him here.
Nille's gaze lowered slightly.
He understood. Not urgency. Convenience.
According to the whispers he had overheard earlier, the company lawyer had already intervened, pulling the old man's name out of the newspapers, keeping the incident quiet, controlled.
No headlines.No attention.
Just silence.
Because attention would complicate things.
And complications… delayed inheritance.
Nille looked back at Meiying.
She gently adjusted the blanket around her grandfather, her movements careful, almost afraid to disturb him.
"I'm here…" she whispered again, softer this time. "You're not alone…"
Her voice trembled, but she stayed.
Didn't leave.Didn't complain.
Even with everything she had, money, status, comfort, She chose to sit in a small, quiet hospital room meant for people who had nothing.
Nille watched her for a moment longer, then slowly lowered his gaze.
The world was strange, some people had everything… and still chose nothing.
And some, Had everything…
But chose to stay.
The maid entered quietly, her steps deliberate, carrying a folding bed, neatly stacked bedding, food, and even a curtain to separate Meiying from the rest of the room. The hospital room was new, equipped with hospital cubicle curtain tracks, allowing her to set up a private little space. Nille didn't react. Privacy wasn't his problem, or his concern, but he admitted to himself that it was convenient; he could have his own corner without interruptions.
The maid was strict. Her eyes skimmed over Nille like he barely existed, a poor boy in her perspective, insignificant and unworthy of attention. Her task was simple: serve Meiying. Nothing more, nothing less. Nille didn't care. He stayed by Granny Amparo's side, quietly finishing his meal, cleaning up after himself, and returning to the book the scarf had provided.
Suddenly, the scarf's voice whispered in his mind: "I memorized the book. Don't read it."
Nille looked down, eyes wide. "Wow… really? You did that?"
"Yes. Book not that big. Ask me, and I give answers."
Nille scratched his head, thinking. "But… I need more beads. Hungry."
The scarf's response came quickly: "Yes, please!"
Nille blinked. "Wait… you mean I need to hunt more Bad Enkantos?"
"Yes, please!"
He exhaled softly, the weight of the task settling in. It wasn't just reading and learning anymore, he would have to actively seek them out, gather their essence, and somehow turn it into beads for the scarf.
His young mind processed the scarf's words quickly, but he only shrugged slightly, accepting it as he always did. Every strange, difficult, and seemingly impossible task was just another step forward. Deep inside, he knew this was more than a lesson, it was a test of everything he was becoming.
The scarf's voice pulsed quietly in his mind.
"Old man… dying. mixed-blood."
"Gabunan will come. love… eating mixed-blood."
" so the elder is nearing deaths door, " Nille spoke to himself
"last night he was somewhet recovering but..." the scarf spoke again
"curse him.."
"and soon … it comes."
Nille's brow furrowed. "When?"
" night . they will ."
He swallowed hard. "And… the girl?"
"they might eat her."
"many hungry."
Nille's grip on the book tightened. The sun light cascading in the room felt hotter now, even if it was just around eight in the morning, He exhaled softly, his resolve forming quietly, like a steel thread weaving through his young mind. Night was coming. And when it did, he would be ready.
" this i gong to be a long night, isn't it? the scarf reacted, "yes!"