As Sadie's family enjoys a vacation in one of their farms in Batangas, she searches for her diary inside the Kubo.
It has been a week since Sadie hid under her mom's bed for two hours, chased a garbage truck bare-footed, and got her heart shattered into pieces. She doesn't even remember the last time she had a nice, relaxing sleep, and these past few days she needed to eat melatonin gummy bears just to help her fall into a deep slumber.
For the lone Sadie, it doesn't feel like a week ago. It all felt so fresh and new and it seemed like an open wound, and every time she catches a glimpse of a pen and paper, she would feel her wound sting.
On the other hand, she doesn't know whether it's fate or only a coincidence, but her uncle had once again invited them to visit his land in Batangas City since the quarantine rules had been less strict and quite flexible.
At first, Sadie hesitated to go with her family, but Elliot insisted that Sadie comes along—perhaps to get some fresh air and have a new environment even for a few days, to ease herself after what had happened.
Elliot knew, somehow, that Ethan was so important to Sadie. He was the only friend Sadie had conversed with all throughout the quarantine; and Elliot supported her because ever since Sadie's best friend betrayed her, she never let anyone enter her life again—then and there, she decided to live in solitude.
It was never good for her, though; she was always lonely and quiet. But the thing is, she had Sadie—her diary, or more like, herself, and she writes in it every day to make herself feel better.
Writing helped Sadie cope—while Ethan saved her, entirely. And, no, it's not like he's some knight in shining armor, nor a prince charming that saves a damsel in distress—but he was a friend to her. A companion; and God knows how relieving and safe it feels knowing you have someone that has your back, someone you can cry on, and someone you can turn to when things go unplanned.
In these trying times, sometimes having a companion is the only saving we need; and luckily, Sadie found hers, in the most uncanny manner.
Upon reaching the farm, Sadie immediately plumped on one of the monoblocks. The sun was too hot for her to even amble along with the trees. On the other hand, inside her uncle's house in the middle of the farm, her family conversed and drank like there was no tomorrow to arrive.
It was five in the afternoon, and still, Sadie was left all alone by the porch, her eyes focused on the tall Kubo far across her, located on the other side of the farm. It seemed like it belonged to another person, because of the bamboo barricades.
Suddenly, a memory relishes in her mind. "My diary!"
Like an electric jolt, Sadie reached the barricades as quickly as she could. It was near six, and once the dusk approaches, it will be harder for her to look for her journal—that, if this Kubo she made a run for is the Kubo Ethan was talking about.
Sadie scans the area, seeing none but pure greens and newly-planted papayas. She looks for the certain garbage bin, only for her eyes to catch a glimpse of bright-yellow sunflowers, just beside the Kubo. Her heart skips a beat.
"Are these yours, Ethan?" she mumbles to herself, her stomach turning knots.
Sadie marvels at the sunflowers' beauty, and she couldn't help but think that if these were really Ethan's, then he really fulfilled his promise of growing sunflowers for Sadie. But he never mentioned about them growing already. She sighs, brushing away her silly thoughts.
"Please let this Kubo be the one," she prays as she climbs up the ladder. "Tall Kubo..."
She's surprised to see it open; she flicks the switch, shielding her eyes from the bulb's bright light. Realizing that it was already thirty minutes before six, she rummages inside the Kubo, from under the table and chairs, to cabinets and even drawers.
Finally, she slumps down on the couch, letting out an exhausted, disappointed sigh. "Well, thanks a lot, Ethan."
"You're welcome," a voice says from behind the door, just a few steps away from the ladder. She immediately stands to check whomever it was outside the door, only to find a boy her age—tall, tan, wavy hair, and with a nose of splendid form. "...Sadie?"
Only the chirps of birds, the breeze, and the rustling of leaves were heard in the silence. After months of writing, of hoping, and weeks of heartbreaks; her pen pal stood just a few inches across her, wearing a mixed-up emotion on his face; a look of amusement, joy, and enthusiasm. "...Sadie."
"Ethan?" she says, barely even a whisper. "You're uh, you're here...inside the..."
"The Kubo," he lets out a smile—and damn, says Sadie, deep down—that is probably the most handsome smile she'd ever witnessed. "I'm not mistaken. You're Sadie."
Once again, let Sadie be reminded that Ethan mentioned in one of his letters that his family owned a few hectares of land on the very same location as Sadie's uncle; and now she comes to realize that only the bamboo barricades hindered her and Ethan from meeting in the past. Fate does work in amazing, uncanny ways, doesn't it?
"Oh, uh, how are you so certain? I might be some other girl."
Ethan laughs, and for her, it sounded all but holy. "Sadie-Sunflower, you're very cute in person."
"Aside from you calling my name, looking like a 5'4", with black hair that reached your chest and dark, exuberant eyes..." he says, his grin never disappearing. "You're wearing a sunflower pendant."
"You're a very detailed person, Ethan," she smiles, but stops when she realizes that she's here to get her diary back, and after this, there will be no reason for them to write to each other again. How could she ever live with that? Can she ever live in solitude?
No one dared to speak, and as the dusk approached, remind Ethan and Sadie to thank the light bulb for saving them from the pitch-black evening. Still, Sadie was too ashamed to even talk to him, while Ethan was too astonished, seeing Sadie for the first time; but it was his plan, all along.
To tell Sadie he agrees to end their relationship, but she has to get her diary from the Kubo that his family owned. That way, they'd stop writing to one another; they would talk and laugh instead. Or maybe share a kiss, if fate would allow...
When Sadie gathered the courage to speak, Ethan cut her. "Ethan, I am so sorry—"
"Don't," he draws closer to her. "Don't talk. Don't even think."
He hooked an arm around her waist and hauled Sadie to his chest in one swift motion, as Sadie gave in to the boy. Her arms blazed around his shoulders as if it's the last time she'd see him, and a smile plastered across Ethan's face as she did. "If this is the hug you promised me..."
"What?" chuckles Ethan. "If this is the hug I promised, what?"
"Then it only means you are a really great hugger. And you'd make a really soft pillow."
"I'd say the same with you, Sadie."
"The sunflowers," she says, her voice muffled against his chest. "Are they yours?"
"The sunflowers? No, they're not mine," he shifts his gaze to meet hers, "As far as I know, they're Sadie's."
"No way!" she playfully smacks his arm. "Ethan! Really?"
"No, really," he tucks a strand of hair away from her face. "Those are yours."
"Wait," she says, wiggling out of his touch. "The letter..."
"Yes?"
"Your letter. You said you agreed to return my diary and that, we..."
"That we will no longer write to each other?"
"Yes," she responds, silently hoping for him to change his mind. "Do you mean it?"
"I do," he says, and Sadie feels like she was just hit by a train. "There's no reason for us to write anymore, Sadie. Like what you said."
"Oh..."
Upon witnessing Sadie's disappointed eyes, Ethan lets out a genuine chuckle. He brushes a stray hair across Sadie's face.
"We're literally across one another, Sadie," he smiles. "There's no need to write because we can talk, just so you know. Inside this Kubo, with iced coffees. Or outside so we can stargaze, if you like."
"Ethan..." she almost whispers, her hand making its way to his arm. "But..."
"Sadie?"
"But we're not staying here. We're only here for a few days."
"Well, what's 82 miles for, Sadie?" he winks at her.
"Writing letters."