Chapter 1 — Elections and Hearts

The yard of Nguyen Tat Thang High School on a sunny Monday morning in early September, the sound of loudspeakers rang out among thousands of students lined up neatly under the flagpole. This was no ordinary flag-raising ceremony — on a makeshift stage in front of the main hall, a red banner with the words "LAUNCHING CEREMONY OF THE NEW TERM STUDENT COUNCIL ELECTION" hung high, fluttering in the morning breeze.

Ngo Bao Ngoc stood in the front row of block 12A1, clutching the candidate documents he had prepared all summer. She glanced at her watch—fifteen minutes remained until it was her turn to go on stage and read her candidacy manifesto in front of the whole school.

"Ngoc, is your heart beating fast?" Dang Thu Trang, standing next to her, leaned close to whisper, her mischievous eyes could not hide her worry for her friend.

"Beating like a festival drum," Ngoc replied, smiling wryly, but her voice was still steady. "But I've been preparing for this day since two years ago, Trang. I can't back down now."

Ms. Pham Thanh Ha, homeroom teacher of class 12A1 and Student Council advisor, stepped up to the podium, holding a microphone. She is a woman in her forties, with a slim figure but her eyes always exude seriousness and fairness, making no student dare to surpass her in matters related to school regulations.

"Dear children," Ms. Ha began, her voice echoing clearly through the speaker system. "As the notice sent to each class last week, this year is the fifteenth consecutive year our school has held an election for Student Council President following a democratic, transparent process that closely simulates a real election. Three rounds: a three-week campaign, a public debate in front of the whole school, and finally a secret vote. The winner will represent the voice of nearly two thousand students at our school throughout the next school year."

Applause erupted. Ngoc took a deep breath.

"The position of President of our school's Student Council," Ms. Ha continued, "is not just a title. It is a line with real weight in your college admission application, but most importantly, it is an opportunity for you to really change something for the school you are studying at. Now, I would like to invite the candidates to officially present their candidacy statements."

The list appeared on the large screen behind the stage. Three names appeared: Ngo Bao Ngoc (12A1), Lam Gia Huy (12A3), and... Ngoc paused when reading the third name.

Do Nguyen Khang (12A1).

"Kang?" Ngoc turned to look towards her classroom's row of chairs, where Do Nguyen Khang was standing, hands in his pockets, expression calm as if this was no big deal. He was Ngoc's classmate for three years, studied well, spoke fluently, and was always loved by his teachers for his talent in improvising during presentations - but never, not even once, showed any interest in Union and Association work. Ngoc could not understand why he appeared on this list, and it was even more difficult to understand when he saw Khang's face without the slightest excitement of someone who had just decided to participate in an important race.

"When did he apply?" Trang whispered, eyes wide open.

"I don't know either," Ngoc shook her head, a feeling of insecurity crept into her heart.

Ms. Ha invited each candidate to the podium in order of drawing. Lam Gia Huy was first - a tall guy, a friendly smile always on his lips, Warm voice easily creates sympathy right from the first sentence.

"Hello everyone," Huy started, his eyes scanning the schoolyard as if greeting each person individually. "I'm Lam Gia Huy, class 12A3. I'm running with a simple promise: to listen. Our Student Council needs someone who really listens to every little voice, not just the big ideas on paper."

Huy's speech was short, concise, and received warm applause. Ngoc observed him from afar, realizing there was something in Huy's eyes - a desire to be recognized deeper than what words expressed, but she pushed that thought aside, focusing on her own upcoming presentation.

It's Ngoc's turn. She stepped onto the stage, her hands shaking slightly but her steps steady. Standing in front of the microphone, she looked down at the thousands of waiting student faces and took a deep breath.

"Hello everyone. I'm Ngo Bao Ngoc, class 12A1." Her voice rang out clearly, without the slightest tremor. "I don't intend to start with a grand story. I want to tell you a simple truth: in 10th grade, I almost had to drop out of school."

The whole schoolyard was silent.

"My family was in trouble at that time, my mother raised me alone by sewing, and one semester, I really didn't know if I would be able to continue sitting in this class or not. But then, an anonymous scholarship fund of our school's alumni silently supported me through that period. I don't know who helped me. I just know, without that help, maybe I wouldn't be standing here today."

Ngoc stopped for a moment, her eyes scanning the crowd.

"I'm running for Student Council President with a very specific goal: to turn that anonymous scholarship fund - which is currently only operating quietly, unofficially - into an official school program, transparent, run by our own students. I call it the Companion Scholarship Fund. So that no one in this school has to face the same worries about food and money as I did."

The applause exploded, much stronger than the previous presentation. A few students stood up. Ngoc clearly felt her heart pounding, not because of worry anymore, but because of a feeling of being truly listened to.

She stepped off the stage, Trang ran to hug her. "You did it, Ngoc! Look at everyone's reaction!"

But Ngoc's joy was not yet complete when Ms. Ha's voice continued: "And finally, invite candidate Do Nguyen Khang."

Khang walked onto the stage with a leisurely look and a gentle smile as if this were just a normal Literature lecture. He stood in front of the microphone, was silent for a second, then began.

"Hello everyone. Do Nguyen Khang, 12A1." He stopped, his eyes scanned the crowd and stopped somewhere far away. "Many of you here probably know my father — Mr. Do Thanh Lam, who was the Student Council President of this very school, twenty-five years ago."

A few murmurs arose in the crowd. That's right, the name Do Thanh Lam is not unfamiliar — he is one of the school's most successful alumni, currently a businessman and local people's councilor, often mentioned in the school's founding celebrations.

"Perhaps many people think that they are running because they want to continue the tradition family," Khang continued, his voice strangely calm. "Honestly, I'm not too sure about my own reasons right now. But I promise to try my best if you trust me."

The speech was short, lacking much enthusiasm compared to the previous two candidates, ending in sporadic applause, polite but not very exciting. Khang walked down the stage, passed by where Ngoc stood, and nodded slightly to greet her as a normal social greeting.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice light.

Ngoc looked at Khang's back, an indescribable feeling arose in her heart - not necessarily anger, but a vague disappointment. She put all her heart and soul, an entire summer of preparation, and her family's most personal story to stand on that stage. As for Khang, it seemed like he just stepped up there as a duty that needed to be completed, nothing more, nothing less.

"He's not serious at all," Ngoc muttered to Trang as they both returned to their seats.

"Yeah, but to be fair," Trang shrugged, "he still speaks fluently, and has the name Do Thanh Lam behind him. Don't be subjective, Ngoc."

At the end of the ceremony, Ms. Ha announced the detailed schedule: three weeks of campaigning, then the preliminary round to select the two candidates with the highest number of votes to enter the public debate round in front of the whole school, and finally the official election day.

When the students began to disperse, Ngoc lingered a bit on the school grounds, looking up at the red banner that was still fluttering. She thought about her mother, about the nights she sat at the sewing machine until late, about that uneasy 10th grade semester, and about the promise she made to herself from the day she received that anonymous help: one day, she would repay the favor in her own way.

"Today is the first day," she told herself, clutching the file in her hand. "The road is still long."

But little did she know that, just a few days later, a scheduling incident would force her to come face-to-face with Do Nguyen Khang in a way she had never anticipated — and that was just the beginning of a journey that would change both of them forever.