Chapter 17 — Elections and Hearts

The last week before the official election day began with a different atmosphere than the previous weeks - softer, warmer, although the pressure of the results was still clearly present in the minds of both Ngoc and Khang.

The board of directors officially announced the disciplinary decision against Gia Huy on Monday morning, which was announced separately to relevant parties before a general announcement was made to the entire school: a reprimand in front of the class, a one-semester reduction in conduct, and a requirement to participate in a mandatory course on the ethics of using social networks organized by the student affairs office. At the same time, the board of directors noted Huy's proactive admission of mistakes as an important mitigating factor.

"This is a fairly light level of discipline compared to what I feared," Huy told Ms. Ha after receiving the decision, his voice still a bit surprised.

"The school believes in education rather than punishment, Huy," Ms. Ha replied, smiling encouragingly. "But don't underestimate this lesson because of the light discipline. I hope you will forever remember the feeling of the past few days, so that you will never repeat the same mistake, whether in school or in later life."

Huy nodded seriously, then began the first working sessions with the initial executive board of the Dong Hanh Scholarship Fund, under the supervision of Ms. Ha. The initial work was just simple tasks — data entry, drafting transparency regulations — but Huy worked with a seriousness and care that was completely different from his previous image.

"You work hard," Trang commented when she happened to encounter Huy poring over a pile of papers in the Doan Doi room.

"I want to prove that I really want to correct my mistakes," Huy replied, without raising his head, continuing his unfinished work, his fingers flipping through each page carefully, much more meticulously than the superficial attitude he had shown in the early days of his campaign.

Trang stood looking at him for a moment, then suddenly sat down next to him, picking up a stack of papers to help. "Let me help. The more people working, the faster the job will be done."

Huy looked up at Trang, surprised by that unexpected gesture. "You don't have to do that."

"I know," Trang shrugged, smiling gently. "But Ngoc always says, everyone deserves a second chance. I think, I should also learn to believe that, instead of just saying it."

That unexpected kindness touched Huy deeply, a feeling of acceptance that he had not experienced since his traumatic middle school days.

All afternoon, the two of them toiled over piles of paperwork, occasionally chatting about idle stories to ease the tension. Huy gradually told Trang more about his life — about the small rented room, about meals alone, about the loneliness that he had never dared to reveal to anyone before.

"Why didn't you tell anyone these things sooner?" Trang asked, her voice filled with sincere sadness.

"I'm afraid people will pity me," Huy replied, his voice fading. "I always want to be seen by my abilities, not by my difficult circumstances."

"But you know," Trang said, her eyes sincere, "sharing difficulties doesn't mean being weak. Sometimes, that's the way for others to truly understand and accompany you, instead of leaving you to shoulder it all alone."

Huy remained silent, pondering his words There, he felt a small but meaningful change gradually forming in the way he viewed himself and those around him.

Meanwhile, Ngoc and Khang's campaign entered its sprint phase. Together, the two organized a final big campaign at the school yard, combining a demonstration of the complete 3D model of the Creative Space with a detailed summary of the Companion Scholarship Fund's operating plan.

"We want to announce one more good news," Khang said to the large crowd of gathered students, his voice filled with pride. "Thanks to initial support from a number of alumni and donors, we have raised enough funding to launch phase one of the Creative Space project next semester, regardless of the election outcome."

Applause and cheers echoed throughout the schoolyard. Ngoc stood next to Khang, her eyes sparkling with pride as she saw the results of many efforts over the past weeks finally starting to bear fruit.

"As for the Companion Scholarship Fund," Ngoc continued, "we have also completed a set of transparency regulations, ready to submit to the board of directors for approval immediately after election day. Regardless of who becomes the Student Council President, this project will be implemented as initially committed."

Immediately after the main presentation, the previous Idea Day jury - now acting as honorary advisors - invited all three candidates on stage one last time before election day to give a few closing remarks. Gia Huy, although no longer an official candidate because he voluntarily withdrew in agreement with the board of directors, was still invited to speak as a representative of the progressive spirit of the entire school's students.

"I want to thank everyone for giving me the opportunity to stand here again," Huy said, his voice still a bit shaky but much steadier than the first days. "I have made serious mistakes in this campaign. But I am fortunate that two friends — my two opponents — gave me the opportunity to correct my mistakes instead of eliminating me completely. I hope, my story will be a reminder that sometimes what we really need is not victory at all costs, but sincere recognition from those around us."

The whole schoolyard applauded, many eyes looked at Huy with new sympathy and respect, completely different from his previous attitude of scrutiny. Ngoc and Khang stood next to them, smiling as they watched Huy complete that heartfelt speech, clearly feeling that a circle had been completely closed.

The campaign ended in an atmosphere of excitement and hope. As the students gradually dispersed, Ms. Ha approached Ngoc and Khang with a rare radiant face.

"I want to say, no matter what the election results are this weekend," Ms. Ha said, her voice filled with emotion, "I believe you both won in a much more meaningful way than a President's seat. You have proven to the whole school that healthy competition and sincere cooperation can absolutely go hand in hand."

Ngoc and Khang looked at each other, both clearly feeling the truth in that comment. Although tomorrow is the day to decide who will officially take on the position of President, both know that the journey they have gone through together has brought values far beyond a simple election result.

"Thank you," Ngoc said, her voice choked with tears emotion. "Without her fair guidance throughout the entire campaign, perhaps things would not have come to such good results today."

"I'm just creating the conditions," Ms. Ha humbly shook her head, "it's you who have chosen to walk the kind path, even though it's not always the easiest path. That's the most precious thing."

Ms. Ha smiled, her eyes full of pride looking at her two students, who have grown tremendously through each challenge throughout a turbulent election season but also filled with valuable lessons about trust, tolerance and true team spirit.

That evening, Ngoc sat alone in her room, reviewing all the photos and videos recording the campaign journey over the past two months - from the thrilling launching ceremony, the campaign sessions at booth No. 3, to the dramatic public debate. She smiled to herself as she looked back on the journey she had gone through, clearly feeling how much she had grown in just such a short period of time.

The phone vibrated, a text message from Khang: "Are you sleeping yet? I keep thinking about today's campaign, the feeling is indescribable."

Ngoc smiled and typed back: "Me too. Regardless of the outcome, I think we've done something truly meaningful."

"Agree," Khang replied immediately. "Thank you for accompanying me throughout this journey, Ngoc. Competitor or not, I think, this is one of the best things that has ever happened to me since entering this school."

Ngoc read that message, a warmth spread throughout her chest. She put the phone down on the table, looked up at the ceiling, filled with emotions that were hard to name — nervousness, hope, and something much gentler that she knew she would soon have to face and name clearly, perhaps as soon as the election was over and all the pressure was finally released.