It was past 7 a.m. when a tricycle loaded with bags came to a stop in front of a two-story house—not far from the same street where Alan lived.
A handsome man in his twenties stepped out, wearing a gray hoodie. Unlike the sun-kissed locals of the island, his pale skin hinted at years spent away from the sun. He wore rounded glasses and had a serious, unreadable expression.
"Hey, look! Isn't that our genius pianist, Kaizen? Wasn't he supposed to be in the U.S. for that big competition? What's he doing here?"
"What's with the low-key arrival? Didn't he leave with a grand parade sponsored by the mayor? What happened?"
People nearby began to gather, eager to greet him. But to their disappointment, Kaizen didn't even glance in their direction. Without a word, he walked straight into his home.
"Kaizen! Why are you here? I thought you had a competition in the U.S.?" asked Mang Toto, a calm-looking man in his fifties—Kaizen and Kokong's father.
"You could've called us, son. We would've picked you up," his mother added, stepping out with an apron still tied around her waist. Both parents looked deeply concerned. They could tell something wasn't right.
"I'm tired, Mom and Dad," Kaizen replied, his voice quiet and heavy. His parents exchanged worried glances.
Kaizen was their eldest. From a young age, they knew he was gifted—especially in music. Since the age of six, he'd poured himself into mastering the piano, his favorite instrument.
His talent soared and before long, he was invited to international competitions in Poland, China, Europe, and the United States just to name a few.
Just a month ago, he was invited to one of the most prestigious piano competitions in America—a stage reserved for the brightest young pianists. The town mayor personally sponsored his trip, sending him off with great fanfare, media coverage, and the hopes of the entire community resting on his shoulders.
This was supposed to be the highlight of his career—the moment he had spent years preparing for.
So why was he back? Unannounced, uncelebrated, with sunken eyes and a haunted silence?
Kaizen entered his room and collapsed onto his bed, burying his face into a white pillow.
"Kaizen, are you okay? Do you want something to eat? We've got hot pandesal—your favorite," his mother offered gently from outside the door.
"Kaizen," his father said, "I don't know what happened, but we're here. Always."
They weren't used to seeing him like this. Normally, when Kaizen failed, he bounced back—stronger and more determined. But this… this felt different.
Inside the dim room, Kaizen's tears flowed again. He stared at his trembling hands, his teeth clenched in frustration.
"Why is this happening to me…?"
Thousands of questions swirled in his mind. He thought his future was secure. He had trained relentlessly. He was the favorite to win.
But at the moment of truth—on the grand stage—his worst nightmare unfolded.
His talent vanished.
Kaizen had stood frozen before the piano, staring blankly at his hands.
"What's happening…?"
His fingers trembled. Sweat trickled down his face. The familiar flow was gone. Even the memories of his practice were a blur. His muscle memory didn't kick in, and the harder he tried to remember, the more his head pounded.
"What am I doing…?"
Instead of music, an awkward silence filled the auditorium. The audience waited.
Mozart's piece lay before him—notes and symbols that once danced under his fingers now looked alien and meaningless.
"Are you okay, Kaizen?" asked Mr. Uly, his coach and personal assistant.
"I… I can't play," Kaizen whispered, voice shaking.
"Ha… come on, not now, Kaizen. Not the time for jokes," Uly said with a nervous chuckle.
"I'm serious, Coach. I don't know what to do."
The coach's smile faded.
"Kaizen, don't be ridiculous. Just play—like you've done for the past fourteen years!"
"Coach…" Kaizen's eyes said it all.
"I told you… I can't play! The keys, the melody, the chords, the sound—they're all gone from my head!"
"…Are you serious?"
Kaizen gave a slow, silent nod. That was the final blow. His coach was obviously having a hard time believing him. After all, he was there when Kaizen started his Piano career, from age of six to the present.
And now, the latter would suddenly declare he doesnt know how to play piano was just too hard to beleive for him. Questions started to come to his mind if he is still facing the same Kaizen as before.
The audience started complaining about the delay. With no time to spare, Uly grabbed a microphone and announced that Kaizen wasn't feeling well and needed to leave. The crowd erupted—some in confusion, others in frustration. Voices demanded answers. Some shouted for Kaizen to perform.
But Kaizen never touched a single key.
As they exited, a mix of boos and sarcastic applause echoed behind them. Contestants and staff tried to stop them, but Kaizen remained silent.
The next pianist rushed to the stage in a desperate attempt to pacify the murmuring audience.
"What's the matter, Mr. Kaizen?" asked Keith Jones, a smug-faced U.S. contestant.
"He's not feeling well," Uly snapped.
"Did he freeze up on stage?" Keith grinned.
"It's none of your business," Uly growled, shoving the boy aside.
"Hope to see you in future competitions!" Keith called mockingly. "Or should I say… see you never again?"
Keith's gaze revealed a sinister smile. He knows something about Kaizen's trouble.
He came from one of the richest families in the US and just happened to get an interest in piano a week ago. But right now, he stood among the best and brightest young pianists in the world.
Deep in his eyes, a very faint glow of green light flashed before he turned around to prepare for his turn.
Around three months ago, his father asked him what he wanted to become. At that time, he saw Kaizen's face on the news as one of the newest piano prodigy with greatest potential in the world.
"I wanted to be like him." he answered while pointing at Kaizen's face at the news. And sure enough, just a week before his birthday, his father gave him a mysterious capsule and told him it was one their company's newest and best invention that was yet to be released in public- his father said it was a capsule that America's best scientest has produced so far. It was called Talent Plus and he, despite his hesitation, took the pill.
As a result, he now has the ability to play the piano like Kaizen himself - or maybe higher? Whatever technology they used to grant him this talent with just one capsule, one thing is for sure- it is bound to shake the world.
Back at the present, Kaizen's face was still full of questions.
It just did not make sense at all.
As Kaizen stepped off that stage, his career as a pianist ended.
Even Uly, unable to accept the truth, left him behind—disappointed and silent. In a matter of minutes, out of shame, Kaizen left the place alone not wanting to hear another note from the piano again. The shame and confusion made him unable to utter a single word.
It was faint but some of the judges thought that it was Kaizen who was playing in the room. Even Coach Uly, who was about to leave, could not believe it. He hurriedly went back and could not believe it himself.
Keith's performance was a shadow of Kaizen's playstyle. From the movements, mannerisms, style, and flow. It was all Kaizen's. Even the coach and the other contestant, who were familiar with Kaizen, could not help but compare their obvious similarity.
"What the hell? Is this guy copying Kaizen perfectly? This is impossible!" Coach Uly could only watch from far as his mind was filled with questions yet to be answered. But right now, as he simmered himself into the familiar sound he used to hear from Kaizen, a mixed emotion of regret and anger filled him.
"What's going on?" he mumbled to himself under the shadow of the walls behind him.
A few hours later that night, the world was shaken by an outstanding performance coming from Keith, which eventually earned him the top honor of that night.
Back in the present, Kaizen closed his eyes. Exhaustion pulled him under.
"I guess it's over, huh?"
Fourteen years of piano, international tours, and glory—gone. Swallowed by the shadows of his room. His figure lay silently - hopeless to the future he once dreamed of.
Meanwhile, at the shoreline, the celebration wasn't for Kaizen—it was for Mang Tiko and his crew.
"What the—? Is that boat filled with anchovies!?"
"Looks like Mang Tiko hit the jackpot!"
"Hey, Mang Tiko! Can I scoop some?"
The sight was unbelievable. The three-man crew pushed their boat to shore instead of rowing—it was packed to the brim. Even their nets were still full, not yet transferred. With no space left, they had to drag the net all the way back to their barangay. It took nearly three hours of nonstop effort.
They were exhausted, but their wide grins said it was worth it. They may not have reached their planned spot—but their accidental haul turned out to be the biggest blessing of all.
"Congrats, Mang Tiko! Maybe share some blessings?"
"Let me help, Mang Tiko!"
"Keep rowing! Don't leave us to roast in the sun while you snitch on me!" Mang Edwin, one of Mang Tiko's rival competitors who also happens to have snatched some of the latter's men, growled at his crew.
Other Pamanlingan crews passed by, some envious, others muttering under their breath. Everyone knew why.
Despite being just three men, Mang Tiko's crew had hauled in more anchovies than anyone had seen in years—while most boats came back nearly empty.
"Wow! Well done, brother!" Mang Toto greeted him with a wide smile.
"Yeah… with this, I can finally pay off some of my beer debts to you. Hehehe."
"But how did you catch this much when you were the last pamanlingan to leave last night? Did the others miss this spot?"
"I don't know. Maybe we just got lucky?"
"With Alan on your boat? Yeah, right. Oh—by the way, Kaizen just arrived a while ago."
"What? Kaizen?! Isn't that genius supposed to be in America?"
"We were surprised too. It seems like he ran into some kind of trouble. I'm letting him rest for now—we'll talk later."
"Yeah, do that. Tell him his Uncle Tiko's buying him all the Red Horse beer he wants today."
"I don't think that kid's going to drink. You know him."
While everyone scrambled to win Mang Tiko's favor, Kokong watched Alan closely, his brows furrowed.
Mang Tiko didn't remember anything about the heart attack from last night—but Kokong had seen it all. He had witnessed the miracle Alan performed and only he knew something that no one knows.
Yet here Alan stood, being ignored by everyone—some even shoved him aside in their rush to celebrate with Tiko.
Little did they know, their world was just about to be shaken in the shadows of the man they chose to ignore.