Chapter 13 — No One Wants to Lose

The second day of the regional qualifiers took place with clearly increased pressure. Team Trung Vuong, after the first day at the top of the table, became the target of more attention from other teams, and Lam Khe clearly felt the judging eyes from many opponents when she entered the competition area.

The first game of the day went quite smoothly, Lam Khe won quickly against an opponent whose level was not too high. But the second game was a completely different challenge — her opponent was a boy named Trong Tan from Nguyen Trai High School, who played an extremely solid chess style, barely revealing any openings during the first thirty moves.

The match lasted nearly two hours, both sides continuously probed, no one dared to take too many risks. At the endgame, when there were only a few pieces left on the board, Lam Khe saw a small opportunity — if she sacrificed a pawn in exchange for the initiative in controlling her own pawn, she could create a decisive advantage.

She remembered what Nam Phong once said, about trusting your own calculations even when there is no absolute certainty. She made that sacrifice, and after fifteen tense calculations, won by being able to clear her way to the finish line before her opponent could react.

When the game ended, Lam Khe felt completely exhausted, not only physically but also mentally. She asked permission to leave the competition area to go out into the hallway of the gym to breathe fresh air, needing some silence to regain her composure before the last match of the day.

Nam Phong found her leaning against the railing on the second floor, looking down at the field in front of the gym where several other groups of students were gathering to rest between games.

"Are you okay?" he asked, standing next to her, also leaning on the railing, his eyes observing the tiredness evident on her face.

"I'm fine, just a little exhausted," Lam Khe replied, her voice small. "The last game was so stressful, I had to calculate each move extremely carefully."

"You played very well," Nam Phong said, his voice sincere. "I watched most of the game, and the way you handled the endgame was really impressive. It was the kind of endgame that even experienced players can make mistakes in."

Lam Khe smiled slightly, but that smile quickly faded as she looked down at her hands, still shaking a bit from the tension accumulated throughout the morning. "Sometimes I wonder," she said, her voice low, "if I'm trying too hard to be someone completely different from who I am. I still feel scared every time I have to make a risky decision, even though I've learned to control that fear better."

Nam Phong was silent for a moment, thinking carefully before answering. "I don't think you're trying to be someone else," he said slowly. "I think you're learning how to become a fuller version of yourself—remaining careful, meticulous, but no longer letting fear completely control every decision. It's not about becoming someone else, it's about becoming more whole."

Lam Khe looked up at him, touched by that expression, a way of looking at the problem that she had never thought of in that direction. "Thank you," she said softly. "You always know how to make me look at things in a more positive perspective."

They stood quietly together for a moment, looking down at the field in front of the arena, enjoying the rare silence between intense games. The afternoon sunlight shone down on the field, creating shimmering tree shadows on the ground, and the atmosphere between the two had a closeness and quietness that was completely different from the hustle and bustle inside the competition hall.

"Lam Khe," Nam Phong spoke up after a long silence, his voice containing a rare hesitation. "Can I ask you something personal?"

"Okay," she replied, a little curious at the unusual seriousness in his voice.

"It's about your father," Nam Phong said, choosing his words carefully. "I don't want to force you to tell if you don't want to, but... I've noticed that every time family matters are mentioned, you always look different, as if there's some pain you're still carrying. I just want you to know, if you need someone to share with, I'm always ready to listen, without any judgment."

Lam Khe was silent for a long time, looking down at the schoolyard, feeling an internal struggle going on in her heart - between the habit of keeping everything related to her family's past a secret, and a vague desire to share, to have someone truly understand her, about why she became such a person who is always afraid of loss.

"Not now," she said finally, her voice quiet but not evasive. "But... maybe one day, I'll tell you the whole story. I just need more time to mentally prepare."

"It's okay," Nam Phong replied immediately, without showing any disappointment or pressure. "I'll wait, as long as it takes. I just want you to know that you don't have to face anything alone, if you don't want to."

Those words touched a deep place in Lam Khe's heart, a place she had hidden for six long years, not daring to open up to anyone, including Yen Chi. She felt a warmth spread throughout her body, not because Nam Phong asked about her past, but because of the way he respected her boundaries, without forcing, simply leaving a door open for her to step through when she was ready.

"Thank you," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "For being patient with me, through everything."

Nam Phong smiled, his eyes gently looking at her. "No need to thank me. That's what I wanted to do, because you're important to me, in every sense of the word."

That sentence, although not a clear confession, still made Lam Khe's heart beat faster. She looked at him, and in that moment, under the gentle afternoon sunlight on the hallway on the second floor of the gym, she felt a deep connection between the two of them, going beyond the friendship between two teammates from the same club.

The loudspeaker announcement rang out, reminding the contestants to prepare for the final match of the day, breaking that quiet moment. They both returned to the competition hall, but in Lam Khe's heart, the warm feeling from the conversation just now lingered, giving her a new source of strength to enter the final match with a more stable mind than ever.

In the last game of the day, Lam Khe played with high concentration, skillfully combining inherent caution and newly learned courage, winning convincingly against a strong opponent from Chu Van An High School. When the second day of competition ended, Trung Vuong's team officially won tickets to the semi-finals with first place in the group, an achievement that far exceeded everyone's expectations, including teacher Hung himself.

The results announcement ceremony took place right at the hall, with representatives of the organizing committee reading out the names of the teams that qualified for the semi-finals amid bustling applause. When Trung Vuong school's name was announced, the whole team hugged each other. Duc Anh even shouted with excitement, causing several other teams to turn and look with both surprised and sympathetic eyes.

"We did it!" Duc Anh shouted and high-fived Quang Minh, his face beaming with joy that was rarely seen in this quiet boy.

Teacher Hung stood watching the team celebrate, his eyes shining with emotions that were hard to hide. "I'm so proud of you guys," he said, his voice a little choked. "This is the first time in three years that our club has reached the semi-finals of the inter-school tournament. You guys have saved the club, at least this year."

Lam Khe stood in the midst of that shared joy, feeling a deep sense of pride that she had never experienced before — not only pride for her personal achievements, but also because she had contributed to something bigger than herself, a group that she had gradually come to regard as a second family over the past few months.

Nam Phong approached her in the middle of the celebrating crowd, his eyes shining with joy. "You know," he said, his voice still excited, "when I invited you to the club a few months ago, I only hoped you would become a good member. I didn't expect you to become one of the most important pillars, and..." he hesitated for a moment, "someone important to me in a way I never expected."

Lam Khe felt her cheeks heat up at that half-hidden admission, but she didn't shy away, just smiled, letting that moment exist fully amid the bustling atmosphere of celebration around her. "Me too," she replied softly, loud enough for only him to hear amid the noise of the team cheering around.

On the bus home that night, the whole team was still busy talking about the upcoming semi-finals, about potential opponents, and about what needed to be improved. But Lam Khe, sitting next to the window, just quietly looked out, her heart filled with a feeling of peace and happiness that she had never experienced so completely in the past six years since the family incident.