Chapter 2 — No One Wants to Lose

Room 203 is located at the end of the third floor hallway, next to the Chemistry lab that is rarely open. Lam Khe stood in front of the wooden door with green paint that was peeling in some places, her hands tightening on the handle of her bag, torn between entering and turning and running away as if she had never intended to come here.

"Can you come in?" Yen Chi stood behind you, gently pushing your shoulder. "Standing here all day, people think you're a ghost guarding Hoa's door."

"I told you that you don't need to come with me," Lam Khe glared at you, although secretly grateful to have someone by your side. "Why are you suddenly so interested in the Chess Club?"

"Because I'm interested in watching you be embarrassed," Yen Chi grinned, "it's a rare thing that's hard to find, Nguyen Lam Khe. Come on in, I'll just wait outside for twenty minutes, I have to go home to eat."

Lam Khe took a breath, pushed the door open and walked in.

Inside was not as noisy as she imagined. About a dozen sets of chess boards were arranged in two rows along the old classroom, most of them had people sitting facing each other, silently bowing their heads and calculating. The clock ticked steadily, occasionally interspersed with a whisper of exchange, a soft laugh when someone just made a silly mistake. The afternoon sunlight passing through the window covered the table top with a pale yellow layer, making the whole room look strangely quiet compared to the bustle often seen in the school hallway right after school.

"Hey, you really came."

Nam Phong was sitting at the table near the window, holding a twirling knight in one hand, looking up at her with surprise mixed with undisguised excitement. He stood up and walked forward, his gait leisurely as if there was no hurry in the world.

"I just came to see," Lam Khe said quickly, as if afraid someone would misunderstand that she came to register as an official member immediately. "No promises."

"Okay, it's good to see," Nam Phong nodded, not showing as much disappointment as she feared. "Sit wherever you like, or stand. The chess board will never bite anyone, rest assured."

That bland joke made Lam Khe laugh lightly before he could stop himself. She followed Nam Phong to an empty chair near the window, where she could observe almost the entire room.

"Let me introduce you," Nam Phong sat down next to her, his voice natural as if he were talking to a long-time acquaintance. "The other table is Duc Anh, grade 11, playing the Sicilian opening game quite solidly but the end game is weak. Next to that is Thao Vy, new to the club this term, progressing very quickly. And in the other corner," he pointed to a boy wearing glasses who was biting his nails and staring at the chess board, "is Huy, who hasn't beaten anyone for three weeks in a row, but is still as persistent as squeezing a lemon."

"It sounds like you know each person's strengths and weaknesses by heart," Lam Khe commented, a bit surprised by that understanding.

"If a club president doesn't know what his students are like, what's the point of being a homeroom leader?" Nam Phong shrugged, but his eyes flashed with a rare hint of seriousness. "Our club two years ago had thirty or so members, now there are less than fifteen. If we don't have any achievements in the inter-school tournament this term, the school will probably cut funding and consider disbanding."

Lam Khe didn't say anything, just quietly recorded that information in his mind. She didn't understand why Nam Phong told her the club's internal story from the beginning, as if he was deliberately showing her part of the reason why he so earnestly invited her.

A middle-aged man, with a heavy build, wearing black-rimmed glasses, walked out of the inner room, holding a stack of papers to record the matches. That must be Mr. Hung, the club advisor that Nam Phong once mentioned.

"Oh, there's a new customer," Mr. Hung looked at Lam Khe and nodded in a friendly manner. "You are Lam Khe, student 12A1, right? Nam Phong has been talking about you these past few days."

"Yes, I just came to see," Lam Khe repeated the familiar sentence, a bit confused by the attention.

"It's okay to watch. After watching it for a long time, I fell in love without realizing it," Mr. Hung smiled, his eyes behind his glasses seemed kind. "Sit comfortably, if you have any questions, just ask Nam Phong, he's free, no need to be polite."

He turned away to take care of the other games, leaving two people sitting next to the window. Lam Khe looked around the room, carefully observing how everyone played. She realized she was automatically analyzing each chess position in her head, like an ingrained habit that couldn't be turned off.

"Duc Anh is making a mistake," she blurted out, her eyes still glued to the chess board of her 11th grade friend playing Sicilian.

"How do you know?" Nam Phong turned around with curious eyes.

"He just pushed the pawn to f4, opening up the diagonal for the opponent's bishop," Lam Khe explained, his voice becoming more natural when talking about chess, a marked change from his initial reserve. "If the opponent sees it, it only takes a few more moves to checkmate with the combination of bishop and queen."

Just as she said, just three moves later, Duc Anh's opponent let out a small cry when he discovered that attack line, causing his friend to hold his head and groan. Nam Phong looked at Lam Khe with both surprised and admiring eyes.

"You saw that just by observing from afar, without standing close to the chess board?" he asked, his voice unable to hide his excitement. "You see, that's exactly why I wanted you to join the club. Your ability to read the game is not ordinary at all."

"Reading other people's positions is much easier than daring to push the army forward yourself," Lam Khe replied, his voice low. "I'm only good at seeing dangers, not good at creating opportunities."

"So let me tell you something," Nam Phong leaned towards her, his voice light but firm. "Seeing danger is the first half of chess. The other half is daring to step into that danger knowing you have reason to believe in yourself. You already have the first half, I'm just curious to see what your second half looks like."

Lam Khe did not answer immediately. She looked down at her hand on her thigh, her palm was slightly sweaty even though it wasn't very hot. Nam Phong's words, although gentle, touched the exact spot she had always deliberately avoided.

Twenty minutes passed faster than she thought. When Yen Chi stuck her head in the door signaling that it was time to go home, Lam Khe was startled and looked at the clock, not expecting to have sat for so long without feeling as impatient as initially expected.

"Thank you for showing me," she stood up, bowing slightly to Mr. Hung standing nearby.

"Let's try a game next time," Nam Phong said, not forcing, just an open suggestion. "It doesn't have to be any serious game, just to feel the atmosphere."

"Let me think," Lam Khe replied, but this time her voice was no longer as stiff as that Friday afternoon in the auditorium.

On the way home, Yen Chi kept asking about the meeting, but Lam Khe only answered vaguely, his mind still lingering on the image of room 203 with the pale yellow afternoon sunlight, the ticking sound of the clock, and Nam Phong's words kept echoing: what his second half looks like.

That night, Lam Khe sat again in front of the old wooden chess board in her room, but this time, instead of playing both sides herself as usual, she just laid out the pieces, re-arranging Duc Anh's position that she had seen this afternoon, trying to figure out how she would play differently if it were her. She realized that, even though she had found a safe defensive move to avoid being checkmated, she still could not think of an attack bold enough to gain a real advantage.

She sat quietly looking at the chess board for a long time, then opened her phone and typed a message to Yen Chi: "Maybe I'll stop by again. Just to see." But as soon as she finished typing, she deleted the last three words, replacing them with: "Maybe I'll try a game." Her finger hesitated on the send button for a long time, as if typing those words was a more difficult step than actually entering room 203 this afternoon.

She finally pressed send and turned off the desk lamp, but sleep came later than usual, her mind kept spinning about moves she had never dared to think of.

Lying in the dark, Lam Khe thought back to the strange feeling she felt sitting in room 203 this afternoon — not the tension she usually brought with her every time she entered a competitive environment, but something close to comfort, even excitement, something she hadn't allowed herself to feel when mentioning the word "chess" for a long time. During six years, she got used to seeing the chess board as a test to pass safely, but never thought of it as a place that could make people laugh, could make people curious about themselves.

She remembered Nam Phong's eyes when he talked about the risk of dissolving the club, the way his voice dropped for just one beat before regaining his usual confidence. There was something about him that made Lam Khe believe that his invitation wasn't simply because he needed another good chess piece for the team, but also because he actually saw something in the way she played — something that even she had never seen clearly in herself.

She turned over, pulled the blanket up to her chin, her eyes still open and staring at the dark ceiling. Outside the window, the sound of traffic on the main street echoed steadily and far away. She wondered if she really entered the club, would she have to face the things she had been avoiding all these years - not just the offense or defense on the chessboard, but the old fear that still lay dormant under the calm shell she had worked so hard to build.

But along with that fear, there was another feeling creeping in, small but persistent, like a thin ray of light slipping through a crack in a door into a dark room — an honest curiosity about where, if she really dared to try, it would go. Lam Khe closed her eyes, trying not to think of anything else, but the image of the chess board in room 203, the golden sunlight covering the wooden chess pieces, and Nam Phong's last words kept coming back to her mind, until sleep slowly came.