NSFWAlas-6:18 ng gabi nang bumalik si Yana sa faculty office.
Dapat ay ipinasa na lang niya ang revised essay kinabukasan. Pero may isang komento si Professor Lucien na hindi niya maintindihan, at ayaw niyang magpuyat kakaisip kung ano ang ibig sabihin nito.
Kumatok siya nang dalawang beses.
“Come in.”
Nasa loob si Lucien, nakatayo sa tabi ng bintana habang may kausap sa telepono. Nang makita siya, itinuro nito ang upuan at tinapos ang tawag.
“You're late.”
Napatingin siya sa relo niya. “Three minutes.”
“I said six fifteen.”
“And I arrived at six eighteen. Congratulations, Professor. Your math is excellent.”
Hindi siya ngumiti.
“Sit down, Yana.”
May kung anong kakaiba sa boses nito ngayong gabi. Walang asaran. Walang bahid ng amusement.
Umupo siya, inilapag ang essay sa mesa, at pinagkrus ang mga braso.
“Okay. What's going on?”
Lucien looked at the paper.
“This isn't about your essay anymore.”
Napakunot-noo siya. “Then why did you ask me to come here?”
“I didn't.”
“Excuse me?”
“You emailed me asking for clarification. I told you we could discuss it tomorrow.”
Dahan-dahang nawala ang ngiti ni Yana.
“Tapos bakit mo ako pinapasok?”
“Because you knocked.”
“That's your explanation?”
“That's the truth.”
Tumayo siya at kinuha ang bag niya.
“Fine. I'll leave.”
“Yana.”
Huminto siya, pero hindi lumingon.
“What?”
“We need to talk about the messages.”
Napatigil siya.
Anong messages?
Dahan-dahan siyang humarap dito.
“Which messages?”
Lucien stared at her.
“The ones you sent me last week.”
“Yung tungkol sa essay?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. And?”
He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“You keep asking questions that have nothing to do with your coursework.”
Napatawa siya, pero walang saya sa tunog.
“You're the one who keeps replying.”
“Because I'm your professor.”
“Then stop replying.”
Tumahimik ito.
Tinuloy niya, mas matalim na ang boses.
“I'm not asking you to be my friend, Sir. Hindi ko rin hinihingi ang attention mo. If you think I'm crossing a line, tell me. I'll stop.”
Lucien's expression changed.
“That's not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“I'm saying that you don't know me well enough to understand what you're asking.”
Yana shook her head.
“Then maybe stop making everything sound like a warning.”
“Maybe you should stop treating every warning like a challenge.”
“Maybe you should stop talking to me like I'm a problem you can't solve.”
That landed harder than either of them expected.
Lucien turned away.
For a few seconds, the only sound in the office was the distant hum of the air conditioner.
Then he spoke.
“Do you know why I keep my distance from people?”
Yana didn't answer.
“Because people see what they want to see. They take a conversation, a gesture, a few words, and turn them into something they're not.”
She studied him.
“Is that what you think I'm doing?”
“I don't know what you're doing.”
“Then ask me.”
He looked at her again.
“What do you want from me, Yana?”
The question was so direct that she almost forgot how to respond.
She could've joked. She could've rolled her eyes and said she wanted a better grade.
Instead, she told him the truth.
“I want you to stop acting like there's something you're not saying, then making me feel stupid for noticing.”
Lucien's jaw tightened.
“And if there is something I'm not saying?”
“Then it's your choice whether to tell me.”
“And you'll accept that?”
“I'm not a child, Professor.”
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like one.”
He went quiet.
For the first time, Yana saw something other than irritation in his face.
Conflict.
Not the kind that came from losing an argument. Something older, more complicated.
He took a step toward the desk, then stopped on the opposite side of it.
“Yana, listen to me carefully. Whatever you think is happening between us, you need to understand that I'm responsible for maintaining a boundary here.”
She swallowed.
“Because you're my professor.”
“Yes.”
“And that's the only reason?”
His eyes met hers.
“It's the reason that matters.”
The answer stung more than she expected.
She picked up her bag.
“Okay.”
He seemed surprised by how quickly she accepted it.
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I heard you.”
“Yana—”
“No, Sir. You made yourself clear.”
She walked toward the door.
This time, he didn't ask her to stay.
But just as she reached for the handle, his voice stopped her.
“There's something you should know.”
She turned around.
Lucien was still standing behind his desk, looking at her with an expression she'd never seen before.
“Someone has been asking questions about you.”
Her fingers tightened around the handle.
“What?”
“I received a message. The person knew your name.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't want to alarm you before I knew whether it was serious.”
Yana stared at him.
“You realize how suspicious that sounds, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you still expect me to trust you?”
“No.”
That answer silenced her.
Lucien opened a drawer and took out his phone.
“I expect you to be careful. If you receive any strange messages, save them. Don't reply. And if someone approaches you claiming to know me, tell the department office.”
Yana's expression hardened.
“Is this about you?”
He didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“Professor,” she said quietly, “what did you do?”
His face went completely still.
“That's a question you shouldn't ask without knowing what it means.”
“Then tell me what it means.”
“I can't.”
“Won't.”
He looked at her.
“Not tonight.”
Yana let out a breath and shook her head.
“Unbelievable.”
She opened the door.
“Yana.”
She looked back one last time.
His voice was quieter now.
“I'm sorry.”
For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
It was the first apology he'd given her, and somehow it felt heavier than all their arguments combined.
She nodded once.
Then she left.
Unknown number.
Unknown: You should stop visiting Professor De Vera's office.
Napaupo siya sa kama.
Binasa niya ulit ang message.
Walang pangalan. Walang paliwanag.
Nag-type siya ng reply.
Who is this?
Bago niya maipadala, naalala niya ang sinabi ni Lucien.
Don't reply.
Binura niya ang message at nag-screenshot.
Ilang segundo lang, may panibagong notification.
Unknown: You have no idea what happened to the last person who got too close to him.
Biglang nanlamig ang mga kamay niya.
Muli siyang nag-screenshot.
Pagkatapos, binuksan niya ang email at hinanap ang address ni Lucien.
Matagal siyang nakatitig sa blankong message.
Ano ba ang sasabihin niya?
Sir, someone is threatening me because of you.
Sir, I think you're hiding something.
Sir, I'm scared.
Hindi niya kayang ipadala ang huling iyon.
Kaya isinara niya ang email.
At sa unang pagkakataon, hindi niya alam kung mas gusto niyang malaman ang katotohanan tungkol kay Lucien De Vera—
o kung mas ligtas na manatili na lang siyang walang alam.
Dahil kinabukasan, may isang bakanteng upuan sa classroom.
At nang tanungin ni Yana kung nasaan ang estudyanteng karaniwang nakaupo roon, biglang tumahimik ang buong klase.
Pati si Lucien.
Lalo na si Lucien.
Dapat ay ipinasa na lang niya ang revised essay kinabukasan. Pero may isang komento si Professor Lucien na hindi niya maintindihan, at ayaw niyang magpuyat kakaisip kung ano ang ibig sabihin nito.
Kumatok siya nang dalawang beses.
“Come in.”
Nasa loob si Lucien, nakatayo sa tabi ng bintana habang may kausap sa telepono. Nang makita siya, itinuro nito ang upuan at tinapos ang tawag.
“You're late.”
Napatingin siya sa relo niya. “Three minutes.”
“I said six fifteen.”
“And I arrived at six eighteen. Congratulations, Professor. Your math is excellent.”
Hindi siya ngumiti.
“Sit down, Yana.”
May kung anong kakaiba sa boses nito ngayong gabi. Walang asaran. Walang bahid ng amusement.
Umupo siya, inilapag ang essay sa mesa, at pinagkrus ang mga braso.
“Okay. What's going on?”
Lucien looked at the paper.
“This isn't about your essay anymore.”
Napakunot-noo siya. “Then why did you ask me to come here?”
“I didn't.”
“Excuse me?”
“You emailed me asking for clarification. I told you we could discuss it tomorrow.”
Dahan-dahang nawala ang ngiti ni Yana.
“Tapos bakit mo ako pinapasok?”
“Because you knocked.”
“That's your explanation?”
“That's the truth.”
Tumayo siya at kinuha ang bag niya.
“Fine. I'll leave.”
“Yana.”
Huminto siya, pero hindi lumingon.
“What?”
“We need to talk about the messages.”
Napatigil siya.
Anong messages?
Dahan-dahan siyang humarap dito.
“Which messages?”
Lucien stared at her.
“The ones you sent me last week.”
“Yung tungkol sa essay?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. And?”
He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“You keep asking questions that have nothing to do with your coursework.”
Napatawa siya, pero walang saya sa tunog.
“You're the one who keeps replying.”
“Because I'm your professor.”
“Then stop replying.”
Tumahimik ito.
Tinuloy niya, mas matalim na ang boses.
“I'm not asking you to be my friend, Sir. Hindi ko rin hinihingi ang attention mo. If you think I'm crossing a line, tell me. I'll stop.”
Lucien's expression changed.
“That's not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“I'm saying that you don't know me well enough to understand what you're asking.”
Yana shook her head.
“Then maybe stop making everything sound like a warning.”
“Maybe you should stop treating every warning like a challenge.”
“Maybe you should stop talking to me like I'm a problem you can't solve.”
That landed harder than either of them expected.
Lucien turned away.
For a few seconds, the only sound in the office was the distant hum of the air conditioner.
Then he spoke.
“Do you know why I keep my distance from people?”
Yana didn't answer.
“Because people see what they want to see. They take a conversation, a gesture, a few words, and turn them into something they're not.”
She studied him.
“Is that what you think I'm doing?”
“I don't know what you're doing.”
“Then ask me.”
He looked at her again.
“What do you want from me, Yana?”
The question was so direct that she almost forgot how to respond.
She could've joked. She could've rolled her eyes and said she wanted a better grade.
Instead, she told him the truth.
“I want you to stop acting like there's something you're not saying, then making me feel stupid for noticing.”
Lucien's jaw tightened.
“And if there is something I'm not saying?”
“Then it's your choice whether to tell me.”
“And you'll accept that?”
“I'm not a child, Professor.”
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like one.”
He went quiet.
For the first time, Yana saw something other than irritation in his face.
Conflict.
Not the kind that came from losing an argument. Something older, more complicated.
He took a step toward the desk, then stopped on the opposite side of it.
“Yana, listen to me carefully. Whatever you think is happening between us, you need to understand that I'm responsible for maintaining a boundary here.”
She swallowed.
“Because you're my professor.”
“Yes.”
“And that's the only reason?”
His eyes met hers.
“It's the reason that matters.”
The answer stung more than she expected.
She picked up her bag.
“Okay.”
He seemed surprised by how quickly she accepted it.
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I heard you.”
“Yana—”
“No, Sir. You made yourself clear.”
She walked toward the door.
This time, he didn't ask her to stay.
But just as she reached for the handle, his voice stopped her.
“There's something you should know.”
She turned around.
Lucien was still standing behind his desk, looking at her with an expression she'd never seen before.
“Someone has been asking questions about you.”
Her fingers tightened around the handle.
“What?”
“I received a message. The person knew your name.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't want to alarm you before I knew whether it was serious.”
Yana stared at him.
“You realize how suspicious that sounds, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you still expect me to trust you?”
“No.”
That answer silenced her.
Lucien opened a drawer and took out his phone.
“I expect you to be careful. If you receive any strange messages, save them. Don't reply. And if someone approaches you claiming to know me, tell the department office.”
Yana's expression hardened.
“Is this about you?”
He didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“Professor,” she said quietly, “what did you do?”
His face went completely still.
“That's a question you shouldn't ask without knowing what it means.”
“Then tell me what it means.”
“I can't.”
“Won't.”
He looked at her.
“Not tonight.”
Yana let out a breath and shook her head.
“Unbelievable.”
She opened the door.
“Yana.”
She looked back one last time.
His voice was quieter now.
“I'm sorry.”
For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
It was the first apology he'd given her, and somehow it felt heavier than all their arguments combined.
She nodded once.
Then she left.
11:43
Nakahiga na si Yana nang mag-vibrate ang cellphone niya.Unknown number.
Unknown: You should stop visiting Professor De Vera's office.
Napaupo siya sa kama.
Binasa niya ulit ang message.
Walang pangalan. Walang paliwanag.
Nag-type siya ng reply.
Who is this?
Bago niya maipadala, naalala niya ang sinabi ni Lucien.
Don't reply.
Binura niya ang message at nag-screenshot.
Ilang segundo lang, may panibagong notification.
Unknown: You have no idea what happened to the last person who got too close to him.
Biglang nanlamig ang mga kamay niya.
Muli siyang nag-screenshot.
Pagkatapos, binuksan niya ang email at hinanap ang address ni Lucien.
Matagal siyang nakatitig sa blankong message.
Ano ba ang sasabihin niya?
Sir, someone is threatening me because of you.
Sir, I think you're hiding something.
Sir, I'm scared.
Hindi niya kayang ipadala ang huling iyon.
Kaya isinara niya ang email.
At sa unang pagkakataon, hindi niya alam kung mas gusto niyang malaman ang katotohanan tungkol kay Lucien De Vera—
o kung mas ligtas na manatili na lang siyang walang alam.
Dahil kinabukasan, may isang bakanteng upuan sa classroom.
At nang tanungin ni Yana kung nasaan ang estudyanteng karaniwang nakaupo roon, biglang tumahimik ang buong klase.
Pati si Lucien.
Lalo na si Lucien.