Chapter 21 — Seeds After the Rain

Part V — Taking Root

A week after the incident, Gia Huy still hasn't found a way to truly fix what he did. He continued to come to the garden regularly, continued to seriously complete all assigned tasks, but the invisible gap between him and Quynh Nhu, between him and the whole club, still showed no signs of narrowing.

On a Friday evening, when his parents were watching the news in the living room, Gia Huy sat quietly at the corner of the dining table, not paying attention to the meal in front of him. His father, realizing the abnormality in his son's attitude over the past few days, put down his bowl and chopsticks and turned to ask.

"What's going on, son? I've seen you in a daze these past few days."

Gia Huy hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell the whole story — about the garden, about Quynh Nhu, about the pressure from his group of friends, about the wrong decision he made and its consequences. This was the first time he shared such details with his parents about what was really going on in his heart, instead of just giving superficial answers as usual.

His father listened attentively, without interrupting, until Gia Huy finished telling the whole story. "You know," he said after a moment of contemplation, "I think I partly understand why you chose that group of close friends at that time."

"Dad, do you understand?" Gia Huy asked, a bit surprised.

"Yes," his father nodded, his voice low. "Dad and mom know that my family moving house continuously for many years has not been easy for me. We have seen you countless times having to get acquainted from the beginning, having to rebuild relationships, having to learn how to integrate quickly so as not to feel lost. Perhaps, because of those experiences, I have formed an unconscious fear - fear of losing any of the relationships I have worked so hard to build, to the point where I am sometimes willing to sacrifice other important things. poor to retain it."

His father's words made Gia Huy speechless. He never thought his parents would realize so clearly what he had been silently going through for many years, things that he thought only he could understand.

"But you know," his father continued, his voice gentle but firm, "there's one thing I want you to understand — being liked by everyone is not the same as truly belonging somewhere, or truly being understood by someone. You can have a hundred friends in every school you've ever attended, but if you always have to change yourself, always have to make concessions to keep that liking, then that's not true belonging. True belonging comes from being who you are." yourself, and be accepted and appreciated by others for who you are, not because you always try to please them."

His mother, who had been listening from the beginning, also contributed. "Since the day you joined that club, I've seen you change a lot, in a positive direction. You seem more confident, have a clearer purpose, no longer simply 'Gia Huy is sociable and cheerful' like before. I think, perhaps it's because of that garden, and that friend Quynh Nhu, that showed you another way to feel valuable, not based on being liked by many people, but based on you actually contributing something meaningful."

Gia Huy sat silently, letting his parents' words slowly sink into his mind. He thought about Dang Khoi, about the group of close friends who had accompanied him for nearly a school year, about the fear that controlled his decisions that night. He realized that, deep down, he wasn't really afraid of losing his friendship with Dang Khoi — he was afraid of once again experiencing the feeling of being left behind, of being considered an outsider, a feeling that had haunted him since the first times he changed schools as a child.

But now, when looking back at the entire journey of the past few months in the garden - how he learned patience, how he found joy in truly contributing instead of just being recognized for his appearance, how Quynh Nhu trusted him absolutely until he broke that trust himself - he realized, the old fear, although deep-rooted and legitimate, was no longer a convincing enough reason for him to continue choosing false security over what was truly meaningful. meaning.

"I think I understand the problem now," he said, his voice much more certain than when he started the story. "I spent my whole life trying to be liked by everyone, because I thought that was the only way to never feel lonely when I had to move away. But I forgot that trying to please everyone made me not really belong to anyone, not truly known for who I am."

"So what are you going to do next?" his father asked, his eyes full of encouragement.

"I will apologize to Khoi and explain my reasons more clearly, but I will not give in anymore if it goes against what I truly believe in," Gia Huy replied, his voice determined. "And I will do everything I can to make amends with Nhu and the whole club, even though I know it won't be easy."

His parents looked at each other, then smiled, a proud smile that Gia Huy rarely saw on their faces. "We believe you can do it," his mother said, reaching out to gently pat his head like she did when she was a child. "And no matter the outcome, my parents are always proud that I dared to admit my mistakes, instead of continuing to avoid them."

That night, when he returned to his room, Gia Huy sat in front of his desk for a long time, not doing anything specific, simply letting those new thoughts settle in his heart. He took out a blank piece of paper and began to write down, not a letter to anyone, but thoughts for himself — a way for him to organize the mixed emotions that had haunted him for many days.

"I've spent my whole life learning how to be quickly liked everywhere, because I'm afraid if I don't, I'll forever be on the sidelines," he wrote, his handwriting shaky but determined. "But I've never learned how to truly belong anywhere, because belonging requires me to be myself, to accept the risk of being rejected, misunderstood, even hated for my stance — something I've always tried to avoid at all costs."

He stopped writing, looked back at what he had just written, then continued. "But in that garden, for the first time, I felt accepted not because I was trying to please anyone, but because of what I actually did, truly contributed. It was the first true feeling of belonging I had ever had, since my old school in the seaside town. And I almost lost it because of an old fear that no longer fit the person I was gradually becoming."

He folded the paper and put it in his desk drawer, as a reminder to himself in the coming days. He thought about Dang Khoi, about how he also had his own insecurities, about the pressure to maintain a perfect image before the union board election — perhaps, he thought, Dang Khoi was also fighting his own fears in a different way, and perhaps, a frank, honest conversation, would be much better than continuing to avoid or give in to each other's every request.

He also thought about Quynh Nhu, about the last words she left behind — "I need to rethink whether I should continue to trust... or not". He knows that a mere apology will not be enough to mend what has been broken. She needs to see action, she needs to see real change, not just promises that can once again be broken when pressure arises.

He opened his phone, looked at the remaining two weeks' schedule before the school board meeting, and told himself that no matter what the final result was, he would use all the little time left to do everything in his power — not to prove anything to Quynh Nhu or to the club, but simply because it was what he truly believed was right, regardless of whether anyone recognized it or not. It was a small but important change in the way he saw things — no longer acting out of fear or a desire to be liked, but out of a true belief that had taken root in his heart.

For the first time in days, he felt a vague sense of relief creep into his mind, not because everything was resolved, but because he finally saw clearly the root of the problem, and knew what he needed to do next to begin to heal what was broken.