Author's Note: If anyone's wondering whether or not I'm Filipino, here's my answer: YES. I am a full Filipino (raised-ish and born) and I can talk in Tagalog fluently, but it's pretty difficult to write it, so bare with me. Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the Language or our custom or if you want me to teach you guys some basic words, then please don't hesitate to ask. Oh, and there's a LOT of line breaks… just warning you all.

Italics in dialog example: "I love you." – means the person that we're in for their P.O.V does understand what the person is saying in Tagalog

Regular font but with Tagalog… example: "Mahal kita." – means the person doesn't understand the language

Anything else like "I love you." Is in English… If you didn't already figure that out.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and whoever founded the Philippines.

Katniss

September 2005

"Good morning, Katniss." My mom greeted. "Your dad is already leaving for work. Go say bye to him before he leaves." Without a second thought, I sprint from my small room I share with Prim and make my way to dad, who's about to walk through the small doorway.

"Bye dad. I'll see you later." I kiss him on the cheek and squeeze him in my arms with a happily gives me one back and chuckles.

"Okay. I'll see you later." He disentangles himself from my embrace and starts walking out the door. "I love you!" my dad yells from the front of the house.

"I love you too, daddy." I reply. I don't tear my eyes away from him as he walks away to the old truck that takes the workers who live far from where they're supposed to work in. When he finally drives away with his co-workers, I walk inside our small kitchen.

Our house isn't very big. It has two rooms that sit across each other in a small hallway. We have a shower and a toilet, but we don't have a bathroom to put them in. Our kitchen and dining room sit in one area near the exit of the house. We don't really have a living room, but what we do have is a backyard that spreads through acres and acres.

"Ma? What are we eating?" I ask. I know we won't have those gourmet meals that Peeta and his family has that consist of a variety of meat and others, but I'm still grateful for whatever we have now.

"Sardines."

"We just had that yesterday for breakfast, lunch and dinner." I may be grateful, but I can still whine a little. I mean, what else do eight-year-olds do?

"I know, but we still had a little left over so let's just finish it. And hurry up too." I sigh in defeat and sit down across my mom.

Over the years, my family and I have stayed pretty much the same. My mom is looking for a job while my dad is still working for the Snows. Prim is nevertheless, an angel at the age of 4. She's my little confidant- besides Peeta- that always kept my mood high and was always by my side.

"Ateh, is Peeta coming today?" My sister asks. I shrug. I haven't seen in couple of days, but I know he will turn up soon.

I hear someone knock on the door. Mom starts walking over to the door. I'm faced away from the door, so I don't see who's here.

"Hello Peeta." My mom greets, rather glumly.

He came maybe a little sooner than I thought.

I stand up abruptly and walk over to the door. What I see stuns me. I don't know if it's the effect his eyes still give me, or the huge bruise on his cheek, but it still renders me speechless. I'm still standing on the same spot staring at me when Mom takes Peeta's hand and drags him inside the house. I finally realize what's going on and walk over to him who now sits on my seat.

Mother observes the welt, carefully moving his head from side to side.

"What happened Peeta?" I ask him, even though I probably already know who did this.

He shrugs.

After my mom finishes applying some concoction on his face, we head in my room with his head on my lap.

As I stroke his blonde hair, I ask him quietly, "What happened?"

Peeta takes a deep breath and explains to me that when he was helping his dad make a new pastry for the bakery, he spilled a batch on the counter, which initially, made his mom mad. So he got a 'lecture' about dropping things and being more careful with a rolling pin from his mom.

When he finishes, tears are streaming down my face.

He brings his hand up and whispers soothing words to me; which I find absurd since he's the one who's hurt. I laugh at this.

Peeta looks up at my laugh and asks, "What's so funny?"

"You're the one hurt and yet, you're still comforting me." He chuckles.

When we met, we grew accustomed to each other's language. I knew a little bit since my mom taught me, but with Peeta's help, I was able to talk in full sentences. We were each other's private tutors that I can only dream of having.

I wipe my tears and ask Peeta, "Do you need me to do something? To help you?"

He starts shaking his head, but then stops, almost as if he's deciding in his head. Peeta looks at me with his crystal-like orbs and says, "Well, there are two things I want to hear." I look at him expectantly, waiting for his request. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I hesitate, but still answer, "Singer."

"Singer? Why a singer?" Peeta asks.

"Don't tell anyone this, okay? But I just love the idea of telling a story by using my voice. Not by talking, but using an instrument that I can carry around. I love how it starts off from deep within you and makes its way up and out. You can sing about anything! Like about love, or even food. It's like I can sing all of my emotions out." I say.

By the end of my rave, Peeta's eyes are wide. "You're smart for an eight year old." He chuckles as I blush.

"What else do you want me to do for you?"

"Sing for me, if it's alright with you." He says.

I nod. "Any songs you want me to sing?" I ask him.

"Whatever you want." He replies.

I contemplate for a moment, silently racking through my head for a song I've got stuck in my head after all those times I've snuck into the karaoke juncture at Lola Sae's street diner. Suddenly, I've got the perfect song; it's a song Daddy sang to me when I couldn't sleep.

I clear my throat.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open, the sun will rise."

As I finish the last line of the first verse, Peeta's eyes are drooping.

"Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you."

My voice becomes a whisper as I sing the last few words.

Peeta's eyes close just before he whispers 'so beautiful' and falls asleep and starts to quietly snore. I don't dare move a muscle, scared of waking him up. I close my eyes as well, feeling the drowsiness of the day bearing down on me- even though it's noon.

November 2008

Spaghetti sauce drips down the corners of my mouth. I use my tongue to lick it off, but to no avail.

Today is a special day for my family. My dad got a new job in the heart of Manila for some company that helps smaller companies expand their businesses throughout the Metropolitan parts of the Philippines and other smaller Asian countries- Whatever that means.

"Pass the spaghetti, Katniss," my mom orders. I obey and hand her the plate.

Of course, as a family, we use this time to celebrate my father's success by buying chicken and the pasta. We've never really gotten a real meal besides the animals my dad would've killed during his hunts with his buddies.

When I finish my plate, I'm fully stuffed. I excuse myself from the table and go to the same alley Peeta and I first met. It's miles and miles away, but if I get to see my best friend, I'll do it.

Within an hour, I'm already there, sitting on my bottom, patiently waiting for that blonde hair of his. After a while, he finally shows up, but his demeanor has changed over the last 24 hours I've seen him.

"Hoy! Are you okay?" I ask him. He just shrugs and waves it off.

"I'm fine. Let's just go play that new game you wanted to show me."

I eye him skeptically, but knowing Peeta, I'll get my answers when he wants to open up.

I teach him a game that consists of slippers or shoes and you have to hit a can with them to knock of them. Since there's only the two of us, I just compromised it. Whoever hits the can the sits about 20 feet away from us, wins.

After a couple of rounds later, Peeta finally breaks, turns to me, and says, "We're moving."

And just like that, the whole universe has come toppling over me like God just poured it into my small, fragile heart.

I start to fall over, so instinctively, I grab the one thing that's closest to me, which is Peeta.

His hands are at my waist as I hold on to the front of his shirt. We stay like that as I stare at his eyes. I wish I can just dive into his eyes and let the world wash away from my head.

When we finally come back to our senses, I push myself off of him.

His words sink back to me and I'm suddenly blinded by sadness and rage, but my anger is much more overwhelming than the other.

"What?" I screech. "Whe- why? Where? What? When, Peeta, when?" I ask.

Peeta looks down. "A week before my birthday."

That's in January and since it's November, we only have about two months left.

I hold back the tears before I ask, "Where?"

He just looks miserable. "The states." When he says this, I can't bare to look at him.

Tears are already falling down my face when I ask, "why?"

"Katniss, I'm sorry, but business isn't doing very well here. My parents have decided that we should move back for a new start, and I had no part in it. I swear, Katniss. You have to believe me." Peeta pleads. I huff out in frustration.

"Okay. Let's just… make the most of it, okay?" He nods.

And that's what we do.

For the next two months, we're practically inseparable. We joke around and play like we're never going to see each other ever again. Peeta and I dance around the real problem just to save ourselves from an emotional wreck- which will probably occur when he leaves.

I just hope I don't do anything stupid.

January 2009

Today's the day my social life ends.

Peeta is probably the only person who I ever talk to outside of my family. Now that he's leaving, it's like a part of me is being torn apart from me and is placed in Peeta's expensive traveling bag.

I start off my day pretty normal, but when it's time to leave to the airport, my mood immediately turns sour. I scold my little sister for walking off too far. I ignore my mom when she asks me what I want for dinner. I even reject my dad when he asks me if I wanted a piggy back ride.

When we arrive at the airport using the public jeep as transportation, I start to search for Peeta carefully. I finally see him near the front and I swiftly make my way over to him and his family.

"Peeta!" I yell. He whips around at the sound of my voice and we start running each other like those cheesy lovey-dovey movies. When I'm near him, I practically jump on him.

Big, fat, salty tears drip down out of my silver eyes as I cling on to him like my life depended on it. Like everyday, that's what I feel.

I can see my parents say their farewells to Peeta's family- even his mom. I don't ever let go, but I know I'm going to have to.

I whisper in his ear, "I'm going to miss you, best friend."

I can feel him smile in my hair, "I'll miss you too."

We pull out of the embrace, but keep our hands on each other. I look at him right in the eye and say, "Don't you ever forget me, got it?"

Peeta chuckles. "Like I'll even try."

"Come on, Peeta. We have to go now." His father calls. I look at him and mouth my goodbye to him.

"Okay, dad." Peeta replies.

Without hesitation, I close the small space that separates us and press my lips to his.

The kiss is awkward, sloppy and obviously, weird, even so, I still feel that stirring in my stomach that feels like I'm about to throw up. I know I'm not, but I use it as an excuse to pull away from the kiss.

Peeta's eyes are as large as the sun.

I stand there, blood pumping to my face. I'm about to say something to ease the awkwardness away, but he's already being dragged away by his own mother. When he finally comes back to his senses, he yells, "I'll see you soon!"

I yell back, "I'll see you soon!"

When he's out of sight, I turn around slowly to face my family.

My sister and mom are smiling at me while Dad stands there, pale as snow.

When I said earlier that I hope I don't do anything stupid, I guess I'm a little too late now.

My family starts walking towards me.

And here comes the torture.

Author's Note: The response I got from the first chapter was amazing! Thank you, guys for reading it. Thank you, XCadenceEverdeenX, We don't exist (Guest), pinkfides09, pumpkinking5, (Guest), and THGFan3413 for reviewing! You guys are awesome!

If anyone has any questions or comments, do not hesitate to review or PM me. Constructive criticism is also welcome.