Chapter 19 — No One Wants to Lose

In the days after the regional final, the atmosphere at the Chess Club was filled with the joy of victory. The championship trophy was solemnly placed in a glass cabinet in room 203, and the whole school began to talk about the chess team representing the region in the city-level tournament, taking place in just one month.

But amidst that shared joy, Lam Khe still couldn't escape the shadow of the failed game and the confused emotions about her father. She went to practice sessions regularly, but her concentration had clearly deteriorated, often making basic calculation errors that she had rarely made before.

"You still haven't regained your form?" Nam Phong asked during a practice session, his voice somewhat impatient when he saw Lam Khe once again retreating from a clear attack opportunity in the practice match between the two.

"I just... need more time," Lam Khe replied, avoiding his eyes, pretending to focus on the chess board in front of her.

Nam Phong looked at her for a moment, clearly sensing that something was wrong but not understanding exactly what. He didn't know about the incident with Lam Khe's father, because she still hadn't found the courage to tell him, partly because she was afraid of disturbing her preparations for the upcoming tournament, partly because she still hadn't completely sorted out her own emotions.

"Lam Khe, I understand that the last final match may have affected you mentally," Nam Phong said, trying to encourage him the way he always did. "But the city level tournament is only a month away. You can't keep playing defense like this, the opponents at the city level will be much stronger than what you've ever encountered."

"I know," Lam Khe replied, her voice somewhat tense.

"Then why do you keep backing away from every opportunity?" Nam Phong asked, unable to hide the impatience in his voice. "I clearly see that you just had a chance to checkmate with the combination of knight and queen, an opportunity exactly like what we have practiced countless times. Yet you withdrew, just like the first days you joined the club."

Lam Khe was silent, feeling a sudden surge of anger, not necessarily directed at Nam Phong, but at the very situation she was facing - the pressure from the tournament, the unresolved pain about her father, and now the obvious disappointment from the person she cared about the most.

“You don't understand,” she said, her voice shaking.

"Then explain it to me," Nam Phong replied, his voice still carrying a bit of harshness of worry that was misunderstood as impatience. "I'm just trying to help you, Lam Khe. You've improved a lot, I don't want to see you give up halfway just because of one loss. Sometimes you just need to be a little braver, dare to attack a little more, stop being so afraid."

Those words — "don't be so scared anymore" — were like a knife cutting into the fresh wound in Lam Khe's heart. She stood up from her chair, her eyes red from a violent emotion that she could no longer suppress.

"You think I want to be scared?" she said, her voice choked but full of anger. "Do you think I deliberately played badly to annoy you? You don't know anything about what's going on in my life, Nam Phong! You only saw a losing game, but you didn't know that behind it was a whole week where I had to live in real fear, not fear on the chess board, but fear in real life!"

Nam Phong was stunned by that unexpected backlash, immediately realizing he had said something wrong but not understanding the underlying cause. "Lam Khe, I'm sorry, I didn't know—"

"That's right, you don't know," Lam Khe interrupted, tears began to flow uncontrollably. "Because I never told you. But instead of asking me what's wrong, you chose to blame me for not being brave enough, as if courage were simply a switch I could turn on any time you wanted."

"I don't mean to blame you," Nam Phong said, his voice starting to panic at the situation that was getting out of control. "I just want to help you regain your form before the tournament—"

"By telling me 'stop being scared'?" Lam Khe interrupted, her voice bitter. "Do you think saying that will help? I don't need a coach who only knows how to push, I need a friend who really understands and is patient with me, especially now."

Room 203 fell into a heavy silence. Several other members practicing nearby also accidentally overheard the argument. They sheepishly bowed their heads and pretended to focus on their chess board to avoid making things more awkward for the two of them.

"Lam Khe, please, tell me what's going on," Nam Phong said, his voice softening, trying to rebuild the bridge that he had just accidentally broken. "I'm sorry for saying what I just said without fully understanding your situation. But I really want to understand and help you."

But at this time, Lam Khe was no longer calm enough to open her heart anymore. She shook her head and packed her school bag hastily. "I don't want to talk about this now," she said, her voice still shaking. "I need to go home."

"Lam Khe—" Nam Phong called after him, but she quickly walked out of room 203, without turning back, leaving him standing there, shocked and regretful at what had just happened, not understanding exactly what he had done wrong, only knowing that the distance between the two had suddenly become farther than ever since the day they met each other.

Lam Khe walked home in a semi-conscious state, tears still rolling down her cheeks, her mind reeling between anger, pain, and a vague sense of guilt for venting her anger on someone who wasn't really to blame. She knew, deep down in her heart, Nam Phong had no intention of hurting her, he simply did not know what she was suffering. But knowing that didn't make the pain any less, because that ignorance, even unintentionally, touched the most hurtful place in her heart right when she was at her weakest.

Staying in room 203 alone, Nam Phong stood silently for a long time, looking in the direction of the door where Lam Khe had just disappeared. Duc Anh, who witnessed the entire argument from afar, gingerly stepped closer and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" Duc Anh asked, his voice hesitant.

"I don't know what I just did wrong," Nam Phong said, his voice low, his eyes still blank. "I just want to help him regain his form before the tournament."

"Maybe he's experiencing something that you don't know about," Duc Anh said, trying to give a more objective perspective. "Lam Khe is not the type of person who gets angry easily for no reason. If he reacts so violently, there must be a deeper reason than what you see on the surface."

Nam Phong nodded, realizing Duc Anh was right, but that didn't make him less confused. He sat down on the chair, his head in his hands, trying to remember every detail of the last few weeks — Lam Khe's unusual lack of concentration, the times she avoided his eyes, the long silence every time he asked. He realized he had been so focused on preparing for the upcoming tournament that he missed the obvious signs that something was wrong with the person he cared about most.

"What should I do now?" he asked, his voice full of helplessness, rarely seen in someone as confident as Nam Phong.

"Give him time," Duc Anh advised, his voice gentle. "Then find the right opportunity to talk again, sincerely apologize, and this time, ask instead of judging."

Nam Phong nodded, but his heart was still filled with worry. He took out his phone, intending to immediately text an apology, but then stopped, afraid that a hasty text message now might make things worse instead of better. He put his phone in his pocket, telling himself he would wait until both of them calmed down, even though in his heart, the torment and regret continued to gnaw, blaming himself for letting the worry about the tournament cloud his ability to understand the companion with whom he had worked hard to build a relationship over the past few months.

That evening, both of them, despite being a few streets apart, experienced a similarly sleepless night — Lam Khe lying in bed, hugging her pillow, trying to sort out the chaotic chaos of emotions; Nam Phong sat at his desk, staring at the phone screen, typing and deleting countless apology messages, unable to find words enough to fully express the regret filling his heart.