Chapter 24 — Seeds After the Rain

With only one week left before the school board meeting, the whole club put all their energy into the final sprint. The livestream that Gia Huy proposed took place on Wednesday night, attracting more than two thousand live views, with the participation of a former student currently working at an environmental NGO, who told the story of how this small garden inspired her to pursue her current field of study and career.

"When I was studying here, I was also one of the first members to participate in the project with Mr. Binh," she shared via the livestream screen, her voice filled with emotion. "It was the afternoons of tilling the soil and planting trees in this garden that made me realize my true love for the environment. If it weren't for this place, I probably wouldn't have chosen the path I'm on now."

That story, along with many other sincere shares from students, teachers, and parents participating in the livestream, created a strong wave of support, attracting attention not only within Nguyen Hue school but also spreading to other schools in the area. The livestream post was widely shared, accompanied by the hashtag "GiuLayKhuVuonNguyenHue" that Gia Huy himself came up with, quickly becoming a hotly discussed topic on social networking groups of city students.

Even during the livestream, a few other schools also left comments expressing their interest, asking how the club organized the campaign. There was even a high school in a neighboring district who sent a private message to the club's page, offering to learn from experience to start a similar project if their school had suitable vacant land. For Quynh Nhu, those responses carry a greater meaning than the final results of the upcoming school board meeting - they are living evidence that what she and Mr. Binh have been quietly cultivating for the past two years has now begun to spread beyond the small garden behind the gymnasium.

At the same time, Thao's mother, after being contacted by Gia Huy and explaining the situation, agreed to not only sign in support but also mobilize six other parents in the school's parent association to commit to being present at the board meeting to speak in support of the plan to keep the garden, instead of just relying on the voices of students and teachers as before.

"I didn't expect things to progress so quickly," Anh Duong said at the club meeting, his voice filled with excitement as he updated the impressive numbers — more than one thousand two hundred signatures, nearly three thousand livestream views, and seven parents pledged to speak in support live.

"It's all thanks to the efforts of the whole group, especially Gia Huy," Quynh Nhu said, looking at him with respect that gradually returned, although there was still a hint of shyness. "I have to admit, what you've done these past few weeks is truly admirable."

Gia Huy felt an indescribable joy at that compliment, but he also realized that her words still kept a certain distance, more like a recognition of work than a sign that personal confidence had been completely restored. He told himself he would continue to be patient, not hastily expecting things to return to the way they were before after just a few weeks of effort.

Friday evening, when the group had completed most of the preparations for the upcoming meeting, only Gia Huy and Quynh Nhu were left in the garden to complete the final details for the official presentation. The atmosphere between the two, although still a bit awkward, has become much more comfortable than the first days after the incident.

"Do you think it will be successful this time?" Quynh Nhu asked, as the two sat resting under a mango tree after many hours of continuous work.

"I'm not sure," Gia Huy replied honestly. "But I know one thing for sure — no matter the outcome, I will never regret trying my best this time."

Quynh Nhu looked at him, her eyes a bit warmer than the previous days. "I think so too," she said softly. "Thank you, for not giving up, even though I know I haven't been easy on you these past few weeks."

"I deserved it," Gia Huy replied, smiling slightly, although there was still a bit of self-blame in his voice. "I just hope I can continue to prove to you that I'm really serious about what I say."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, the sunset dyed the whole garden yellow, the gentle wind moved the mango leaves rustling above their heads. Quynh Nhu suddenly took out an old diary, flipped to a blank page, then gave the pen to Gia Huy.

“Write something here,” she said, a little hesitantly. "I thought, after all that's happened, maybe there should be a page documenting this journey, not just from my perspective."

Gia Huy took the pen, touched by that unexpected gesture - a sign that she was gradually opening up again, allowing him to enter a private part that previously only she could touch. He thought for a moment, then wrote down, with careful handwriting: "I used to think I just needed enough volunteer hours. Now I know, there are things worth staying for much longer than I ever imagined, and I will try to be worthy of the opportunity to stay there."

Quynh Nhu read that line, her eyes flashed with an undisguised emotion. She didn't say anything more, just nodded slightly, took the notebook back, and carefully put it in her pocket.

"You know," she said after a moment of silence, her voice thoughtful, "these past few weeks, I've been wondering if I'm being too harsh on you. Anh Duong said I should have given you a chance sooner, but I'm afraid, if I forgive too quickly, maybe next time you'll think everything will be okay, no matter what you do."

"I understand," Gia Huy replied, nodding. "Honestly, I think you were right to keep your distance. If you had forgiven right away, maybe I wouldn't have really taken the seriousness of what I did seriously. It's because I've had to prove it to myself over the past few weeks that I've truly come to a better understanding of the value of trust, and of how fragile it is."

Quynh Nhu smiled slightly, a much more sincere smile than what Gia Huy had received for many weeks. "My dad once said, if a tree has a broken branch and is cared for properly, sometimes it grows back stronger than before it broke," she said, her voice gentle. "I think, maybe our story is the same."

That sentence made Gia Huy's heart pound, not only because of the beautiful metaphorical meaning in it, but because this was the first time in many weeks that she mentioned "us" as something that still existed, still worth nurturing, instead of being completely broken.

"I hope so," he replied, his voice quiet but filled with hope.

The two sat for a while longer under the shade of the mango tree, not saying anything, simply enjoying the rare peace amid the busy and stressful days of the past. The last sunset light gradually disappeared behind the trees, leaving the sky gradually turning dark purple, dotted with the first few stars that began to appear.

"It's late, let me see you home," Gia Huy said, standing up and signaling with his hand.

Quynh Nhu nodded and stood up to follow. On the way to the school gate, the two walked slowly, not in a hurry, enjoying the rare silence between busy days. "Next Sunday, after the council meeting, no matter the outcome, I think the whole group should have a small party," Quynh Nhu said, breaking the silence. "Not to celebrate or to comfort each other, but simply to thank everyone for working together all the time, regardless of the outcome."

"Good idea," Gia Huy replied, smiling. "I'll bring the cake as a contribution."

"Do you know how to bake?" Quynh Nhu asked, a bit surprised.

"Not really knowing how to make it, but knowing where to buy it well," he replied, smiling mischievously, making Quynh Nhu laugh out loud, a clear sound that Gia Huy had missed for many weeks since the incident.

"That's fine," she said, still smiling. "As long as there is a contribution, it's okay."

The two continued to walk in that rare atmosphere of relief, and this time, when the two walked side by side out of the garden gate, the distance between them was much closer than during the past tense weeks. Although not completely back to how it was before, it was enough for both to feel a warm ray of hope slowly rekindling between them, like the first buds sprouting after a long rain.

But in that moment, they both understood that something important had just been healed, even though there was still a long way to go to fully return to the days before everything happened.