only then i am human (only then i am clean).

In a way, he's thankful it didn't hurt. He barely felt the bullet dig in his neck. Sometimes he wonders if that's fair; not a lot of people have quick deaths. He tries to remember a certain general in Cabanatuan who he heard fought to his very last breath, or the tale of a gruesome murder that happened to a man he onced called Supremo.

Did he deserve such a quick exit? Or perhaps his death is dull and anticlimactic. No great stories about it, just blood, one final thud and there, Gregorio del Pilar is dead.

It depends on who tells the story then, he muses.

Right now, Goyo is confused. The war may not be over but his life is. And yet he's still here. He stares down at his body, eyes open and unseeing, blood caking his neck. His jaw was blown apart that he sees his teeth instead of his cheek. Was there another bullet? He didn't notice.

His body was stripped off of his possessions; his uniform, all those heavy titles that did him no good. He doesn't see the Boy General anymore. It's just Goyo right there. He thinks of the words the American soldiers yelled when he got shot. "Is that him? We got their general!" The bitterness rests heavy on his tongue. He was hunted down. Like a dog.

The sun sets and the eerie quiet swallows him. It seems like no one is coming to find him today so Goyo sits next to his corpse, left there to freeze or to thaw.

 
***

He doesn't sleep, he can't even walk around. Somehow he's bound to his body. He wants to see the others, the ruins. It'll make him feel less alone. He's sick of staring at his rotting self. It's not a pretty sight. The grass begins to draw to him like they're trying to hide him away from the sun. Insects have started to make a home and Goyo wonders if this is his purgatory.

Can someone please find him already?

He stares out into the beautiful landscape, the same view Lt. Garcia showed him. The one that opened up his heart. Julian would love to see this.

Goyo purses his lips. Word travels fast. Julian might've heard by now. Goyo's worried. He doesn't think of the others, not the president, not the war. He's done being a general. Let him be a brother now. "Patawad, kuya."

He tries to put a face on his brother; he feels the grip on his shoulder whenever Julian would ground him, hears the rough "Tandaan mo kung sino ka," that would keep him from the edge, the howls of laughter whenever they do something crazy. And yet his face is all blurry.

Julian is slipping away, Goyo realizes, like the two of them were from another lifetime ago. Perhaps they were.

Goyo watches his corpse again. Not even flowers could make it look any less horrifying.

 
***

It's the third day when Goyo hears foot steps, heavy and dragging. He turns to see Lt. Carrasco and Vicente, face gaunt and with bloodshot eyes.

Goyo has seen loss in men's eyes before, that shame flickering behind their eyes for losing a battle. It's not what he sees when he looks now. They weren't mourning for losing Tirad Pass, they were mourning for him. Carrasco, for his general; Enteng, for his friend.

He feels bad for drawing some semblance of peace from their pain. Goyo doesn't feel alone anymore. The two draw closer and spot his corpse, Vicente freezing for a moment.

Goyo sees the tension that holds Enteng back but it's gone as quick as it came. He soldiers on as always and they drag his corpse to join the others.

Vicente doesn't spare him. He stares at the body and takes it all in. It's the last time he's going to see his friend. Goyo only hopes Enteng doesn't remember him that way.

Goyo watches as they bury him among rocks and hard ground. He apologizes for their loss, for making this his last stand. He apologizes for their aching hearts and for his Inang Bayan, for not being able to defend her. He prays that others will do a better job.

Goyo turns to look at the landscape one last time, a bittersweet peace taking over. May it be a better day tomorrow, he prays. With that, the young general closes his eyes.