The old Balete tree’s leaves rustled quietly, as if the wind was softly chatting with them. Sids stood still, his fingers lightly touching the tree's bark, as if trying to recall a forgotten memory. Epoy lingered a few steps behind, observing him with a gentle curiosity and a hint of worry.

“I’ve always felt something special about this tree,” Sids finally said, breaking the quiet. “I can’t tell if it’s blessed or has a dark past… but since I moved here, I’ve been pulled to it. It’s like there’s something—or someone—I left behind that I need to remember. ”

Epoy tilted his head a little, still holding his sketchbook close. “Is that why you brought me here? ” he asked.

Sids turned to him, searching with his eyes. “Yeah. At first, I wasn’t sure why. I just had this feeling. Like you might hold the key to something I forgot. ” He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Does that sound weird? ”

Epoy shook his head softly. “Not really. ”

They stood there again in the quiet. After a moment, Epoy got a bit closer, now beside Sids, gazing up at the tree's tangled branches above. “You called me Luna,” he spoke quietly.

Sids blinked in surprise. “What? ”

Epoy looked at him. “The first time we met. When I stumbled and you caught me. You whispered something… you called me Luna. ”

Sids’ eyes grew wide, and then he glanced down, a sense of shame washing over him. “I didn’t know I said it out loud,” he said softly.

Epoy waited.

“I—I dream about someone,” Sids finally confessed. “A boy who is lit by moonlight. I don’t know his name, but in my dreams, I always call him Luna. I didn’t mean for you to hear that. But when I saw you, it just… came out. ”

Epoy’s eyes widened in surprise. He hugged the sketchbook even closer.

“I thought I was losing my mind,” Sids continued. “The dreams began the night after I met you. They’re becoming clearer. But I still can’t figure it all out. There’s something drawing us together. It feels familiar. Warm. Like I miss something. And this tree,” he turned back to it, placing his hand flat on its twisted trunk, “it’s somehow a part of everything. ”

Epoy nodded slowly. “I’ve been having dreams too,” he whispered. “Of a boy with stars in his eyes and shadows around him. Sometimes it feels like I’m watching another life. Other times… it feels like I’m remembering my own. ”

Their eyes locked, filled with confusion and perhaps something more—hope.

Neither of them spoke for a while. The leaves of the balete tree rustled again, almost like a gentle sigh.

Whatever was going on… they were no longer facing it alone.

Sids took a deep breath. “So I’m not the only one…” His voice faded, a mix of relief and unease filling the air.

“No, you aren't,” Epoy softly responded, finally placing his sketchbook on his lap. His fingers nervously fiddled with the cover's edge, the moon symbol shining softly in the light that peeked through the leaves.

“I thought the dreams meant nothing,” Epoy continued, looking up at the branches. “But they kept coming back. Then I began to see things. Like when you looked at me in class. . . or that time at the library when we both reached for the same book and our hands brushed—” he laughed softly, his face turning pink, “—it felt familiar, like I had done it before. ”

Sids's eyes grew gentle. “Like a memory that hasn’t happened yet. ”

“Yes,” Epoy agreed. “That's right. ”

The wind flowed between them, lifting the corner of Epoy’s sketchbook slightly. Sids reached out to hold it steady, and their hands touched again for a moment—both of them pausing at the sudden spark they felt. A pulse, perhaps.

Sids kept holding on for a while. “Have you ever thought,” he asked, “that maybe this isn’t our first meeting? ”

Epoy looked at him, eyes wide and sparkling. “I have. ”

They let the silence settle again, this time feeling heavier. It wasn’t awkward—but sacred, like something old had awakened between them.

“I called you Luna,” Sids said more quietly. “Because in the dream, that’s who he was. The one who always shone, even in darkness. Always just out of reach. ”

Epoy lowered his gaze. “Then what were you? ”

“I’m not sure,” Sids whispered. “Just someone who kept trying to reach him, even if it meant getting lost along the way. ”

Epoy shifted slightly, tilting his body toward him. “Maybe this time. . . you don’t need to chase. ”

Sids’s breath caught momentarily.

Before he could answer, a strong gust of wind rushed through the branches above. The leaves rustled loudly, almost like a soft whisper flowing through the tree trunk. Both boys looked up.

And there it was.

In the center of the huge Balete tree’s trunk, something flickered softly—just for a moment. A symbol, barely noticeable, like a glowing mark appearing and disappearing. The same one that had come up in Sids’s dreams. The same one Epoy had absentmindedly sketched in his notebook's margins.

They stared, motionless.

“. . . Did you see that too? ” Epoy whispered quietly.

Sids nodded slowly. “We’re not making this up. ”

Epoy extended his hand toward the trunk, his fingertips lightly touching the bark at the spot where the symbol had shone. Nothing occurred this time—but his hand shook from the importance of the moment.

Sids moved closer to him, their shoulders brushing.

“This isn’t just a dream anymore,” he said. “Something is calling us. ”

Epoy faced him, calm but determined. “Then let’s discover what it wants. ”

And for the first time, they weren’t scared.

They felt… chosen.