Chapter 13 — Puppets Under the Lights

Ten days before the performance, the group decided to organize a special night rehearsal, taking advantage of the lights of the ward cultural house that had just been installed to get used to the actual lighting conditions, because the community performance would take place in the evening. Teacher Phuc asked permission to borrow the location one session in advance for the group to practice.

The practice session lasted until nearly ten o'clock at night, and when it ended, most people were exhausted and left one by one as soon as they finished packing their things. Only Minh Long and Diem My remained at the end, re-checking all the puppets and tools before packing them up and taking them back to school for storage.

"Can you go home? It's so late," Diem My asked, her voice a bit worried when she saw the clock was almost ten o'clock.

"Okay, my house is not far from here," Minh Long replied, continuing to fold the puppets into a large carton. "Is it okay for you to go home alone? Let me take you home."

"No need, I can go home myself," Diem My waved her hand, but Minh Long was determined, "It's this late, I don't feel safe letting you go alone."

After completing their work, the two walked out of the ward cultural house, the night air was cool, the crescent moon hung in the rare clear sky in the hot summer. Instead of going straight along the main road, Diem My suggested taking a shortcut through the road along the nearby park lake. The distance is a bit longer but much quieter and cooler.

They walked together in silence for a while, with only the chirping of insects and footsteps echoing on the deserted brick road. "Have you ever thought," Diem My suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence, "about what you will do after graduating?"

Minh Long pondered for a moment before answering. "Before, when he was still alive, I thought maybe I would study something related to engineering, completely away from water puppetry, because I thought it was a thing of the past, of another generation. But now..." he paused, thinking, "now I'm not sure. Maybe I want to study something related to education, or cultural preservation. I want to continue doing what I'm doing with the club, just on a larger scale."

"Is that so?" Diem My smiled, her eyes shining with excitement. "I'm also considering pedagogy, or arts and culture management. I want to spend my life doing things like this — helping preserve traditional values, helping the younger generation understand and love them, just like how this club has changed my life."

"How do you think the club has changed your life?" Minh Long asked, curious.

Diem My was silent for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully. "In middle school, I was quite shy, didn't have many friends, and always felt like I didn't belong anywhere. When I saw a water puppet troupe perform in my grandmother's hometown, for the first time I felt truly fascinated by something, so strong that I was determined to learn it. Pursuing that passion, even though it was difficult, gave me confidence, gave me real friends, and gave me a clear purpose in life. I think, if there were no puppetry water, I would be a very different person, maybe not as happy as I am now."

Minh Long listened and felt a deep sympathy with her story. "I think that's the most beautiful thing about this art," he said. "It's not just technique, it's also a path for each person to find themselves, in their own way."

They stopped on the shore of the park lake, sat down on a stone bench under the pale yellow streetlight, the calm lake surface reflected the shimmering crescent moon. "You know," Minh Long said, his voice lower, more sincere than ever, "I don't think I've ever told you this, but... you've changed my life a lot, in a way I never dared to imagine."

Diem My turned to look at him, her eyes gentle in the dim light. "What do you mean?"

"Before you came to my house that day," Minh Long continued, his voice shaking slightly with emotion, "I lived like a shadow for eight straight months. I didn't allow myself to feel anything, not happy, not sad, just a long emptiness. You were the first person who made me face myself, having to choose between continuing to hide or stepping out of that shell. And now, I feel like I'm truly living, not just existing anymore."

Hearing those words, Diem My's eyes filled with tears, she gently wiped the corners of her eyes, trying to keep her voice calm. "I didn't think I could do that much. I just... I just believe that you deserve a chance to heal, and I'm lucky to be a small part of that journey."

"It's not a small part," Minh Long shook his head, looking straight into her eyes. "You're a big part of me, Diem My. I..." he hesitated, his heart beating so fast that he could clearly hear his own beating in his chest, "I think I'm starting to have feelings for you, feelings that go beyond normal friendship."

The space between the two people seemed to freeze in that moment, leaving only the chirping sounds of insects and the gentle lapping of lake water. Diem My looked at him, her eyes shone with a complex emotion, both shy and full of hope. "Me too," she whispered, her voice so soft it almost melted into the night air. "I've had similar feelings for you, for a while now, but I didn't dare say it out loud, for fear it would affect what you're trying to overcome."

Minh Long smiled, a smile of relief and happiness spread across his face. "I think," he said, "maybe we should let things happen naturally, without rushing. I'm still on my own healing journey, and I want to make sure that when I enter into something with you, I do it with my whole heart, not just the broken pieces that remain."

Diem My nodded, completely sympathizing with that thought. "I'll wait," she said, her voice firm. "I'm not in any hurry. Just knowing that I'm not alone in this feeling is enough for me."

They sat together for a while longer, not saying much, just enjoying the warm silence between the two of them, the crescent moon reflecting on the quiet lake, as if witnessing a beautiful and sincere moment between two hearts gradually finding each other amid the challenges of youth.

When it was finally time to say goodbye, Minh Long sent Diem My to the gate of her house, the two walked slowly, enjoying every remaining moment together. Before entering the house, Diem My turned around and said goodbye, "Thank you for tonight, Long. This is probably one of the most beautiful evenings I've ever had."

"Me too," Minh Long replied, watching her enter the gate, then turned to leave, his heart filled with a feeling of gentle happiness that he had never dared to dream of, since the darkest days after his grandfather left.

On the way home, Minh Long walked slowly, without rushing, to fully enjoy the feeling of euphoria filling his heart. He looked up at the crescent moon hanging in the sky, remembering every word Diem My had just said, every look she looked at him in that short moment of confession. He never thought he could feel such complete happiness again, after everything that had happened in the past eight months.

Passing through the alley leading home, he suddenly stopped in front of a small cafe that had been closed for a long time. The streetlight cast a long shadow on the quiet street. He thought about him, about what he would say if he knew what had just happened tonight. Perhaps he would laugh, his familiar gentle smile, and then tease him with something witty about "his son finally knowing how to be moved." That thought made Minh Long laugh alone in the middle of the empty street, a light, warm laugh, without any trace of sadness.

When he got home, everyone was fast asleep. Minh Long tiptoed up to his room, not wanting to wake anyone. He sat down at his desk, looked at the small carp puppet and the old business card still lying on the bookshelf, now pale yellow over time but still carefully preserved by him. He smiled, thinking that perhaps, his healing journey, although still long ahead, had officially entered a new chapter, brighter and more hopeful than ever. He turned off the light, lay down, and fell asleep with a smile still on his lips, his heart as light as if he had never carried any pain during the past eight long months.