Chapter 13 — The Finish Line of Years Gone By

The headquarters of the Bạt Phong Athletics Club is located on the outskirts of the city, a complex including a standard running track, modern gym and boarding area for young athletes. Khue arrived on a Monday morning, holding a cooperation file in her hand, still half-believing and half-skeptical about the possibility that the person she was about to meet was Son from thirteen years ago.

She had told herself all weekend that maybe she was imagining things too much, that the face in the photo was similar but not necessarily right, that the probability of such a coincidence happening was too low to fully believe. But her steps still couldn't help but tremble as she entered the club's reception area.

"Miss Khue promised to meet coach Son at nine o'clock, right? He's outside the practice field, let me take you out." The receptionist warmly led the way.

They passed through a glass corridor overlooking the outdoor track, where a group of young athletes were doing speed exercises under the direction of a tall man, wearing a simple sports t-shirt, standing with his back to the building, holding a stopwatch, shouting the rhythm to the athletes.

"Faster! Keep your breathing even, don't lose control in the last lap!"

That voice, although much deeper and more mature than in memory, still made Khue's whole body stiffen in the hallway. She stood there, looking through the large glass, waiting for the man to return.

When he turned around, his eyes accidentally glanced at the glass door where she was standing, time seemed to stop for an endless moment.

That's Son. There's no doubt about it anymore.

His face has become much more mature, his childish features have given way to the strong, sun-tanned lines of a person who spent his entire youth on harsh running tracks. But those eyes, that steadfast gaze, are unmistakable.

Son stood still, the stopwatch in his hand suddenly fell from his trembling fingers, hitting the rubber track with a small sound that only he seemed to hear amid the noise of the practice session. He stared at the glass, not believing what his eyes were seeing.

Huan, who was standing next to the students, noticed the head coach's abnormality, turned to look in his direction, then froze when he recognized a familiar figure behind the glass.

"Oh my god," Huan muttered, not believing his eyes.

The receptionist, not understanding what was going on, took Khue to the door of the training ground. "Miss Khue, this is coach Son."

The distance between them was now only a few meters, there was no glass separating them, no thirteen years of separation could hide the truth that appeared before both of them.

"Khue?" Son spoke first, his voice hoarse with emotion, almost unable to believe he was saying that name after all these years.

"Mr. Son," Khue replied, her voice trembling, her hand clenching the file so tightly that her fingers turned white.

The two stood there, a few feet apart, in the middle of the practice field with the sound of young athletes running around as if nothing had happened, while time alone with them seemed to have frozen into a single block — thirteen years disappeared in a moment, giving way to hundreds of unanswered questions rushing back at once.

"I... didn't expect it was you," Khue said, her voice still shaking, trying to remain professional even though her heart was beating wildly in her chest. "I came here to discuss cooperation for a tournament. I didn't know the head coach of the club was you."

"Me too," Son replied, trying to regain his composure, although his voice was still shaking. "The secretary just said there was a representative from Khang Vinh Group coming to work, I don't think..." He stopped, not knowing how to continue speaking amid a series of swirling emotions.

Huan came closer, breaking the awkward silence that was covering both of them. "Khue? Is it really you?" He asked, his voice filled with surprise, forgetting his current job role. "Oh my god, it's been so many years, I didn't even recognize it right away."

"Mr. Huan?" Khue turned around, equally stunned. "Do you work here now?"

"Assistant coach." Huan smiled, although his eyes still showed confusion at this unexpected situation. "The two of you just met each other again like this. It's truly an unpredictable life story."

Son cleared his throat, trying to get things back on track with work, even though he was clearly suppressing a wave of intense emotions. "Can we go to the meeting room to talk? About cooperation."

"Okay." Khue nodded, trying to regain the professional demeanor she had practiced for many years at work, although her legs were still a bit wobbly as she followed him into the office building.

The meeting room is small and simple, with only a long wooden table and a few wall boards noting the athletes' training schedules. Son sat down opposite Khue, both tried to keep the appropriate distance for a business meeting, but their eyes constantly secretly observed each other's changes after so many years of separation.

"Before we get to work," Khue said, her voice somewhat calmer, "I want to ask a question, even though it might not be the right time. Are... are you okay? Uncle and aunt, how are your health now?"

"My dad can walk normally now, although his legs are still a bit weak when it gets cold," Son replied, his voice softened. "My parents are still in Hòa Điền, everything is stable. Thank you for still remembering to ask."

"Why can't you remember?" Khue spoke in a low voice, barely loud enough for herself to hear.

Son was silent for a moment, looked at her, then bent down to the file in front of him, trying to redirect the conversation before his emotions took them both too far beyond what this business meeting allowed. "So, tell me about your project. An international marathon, right?"

Khue nodded, opened the file, and began to present about the Bình Minh International Marathon - expected scale, route along the coast, goal of attracting thousands of both active and professional athletes, and desire to cooperate with Bạt Phong Club to ensure professional elements, especially for the club to send athletes to compete in the professional category, creating a media highlight for the tournament.

Son listened attentively, occasionally asking sharp technical questions about the route, expected weather conditions, medical work and safety for the athletes - questions that clearly demonstrated the extensive experience of a person who had spent his entire career on the running track, making Khue unable to help but admire the maturity of the man in front of her, completely different from the image of a poor and timid student.

"I need time to think and discuss further with the club's leadership," Son said after Khue finished presenting, his voice regained a calm and professional look. "This is an important decision, affecting the team's training plan for many months to come."

"I know." Khue nodded and packed up the documents. "I will email you more details this week."

When she stood up to leave, Son also stood up and walked her out to the main hall door. The two walked in silence until they reached the parking lot, where Khue's driver was waiting.

"Khue," Son called back when she was almost getting into the car.

She turned around, her eyes waiting.

"The red ribbon, do you still have it?" He asked, his voice quiet, as if that question had been waiting in his chest the whole meeting but he didn't dare ask until this last moment.

Khue stood still for a moment, then nodded slightly, her eyes began to water. "I still have it. It's still intact." Son didn't say anything more, just nodded slightly, a small, complicated smile flashed across his face before she got in the car and left. He stood there long after the car had disappeared, his hands unconsciously clenched as if he could still feel the warmth of the red cloth, and in his heart, he knew that today's meeting had reopened a door that he thought had been permanently closed thirteen years ago.

Huan stood not far away, observing the entire scene, waiting until Son returned before daring to speak. "How are you?" He asked, his tone was rare and serious, different from his usual joking tone.

"I don't know," Son replied honestly, sitting down on a stone chair near the lobby, holding his head with both hands. "It's been thirteen years, Huan. I thought I could forget."

"No one can forget." Huan sat down next to you, patting your shoulder comfortingly. "I saw you holding the watch just now and your hand was shaking like it was about to drop. I knew right away that you hadn't forgotten anything."

"The problem is not whether to forget or not," Son said, his voice low. "The problem is that now, we are no longer the two students we used to be. She is now the representative of an entire corporation, and I am just the coach of a small club. That gap, I don't know if it still exists, or has become farther than before."

Huan was silent, having no answer to reassure his friend at this moment, he could only sit there, sharing a silence heavy with thoughts with his friend who had accompanied him from the first days of learning on the clay track of Vọng Hải school, until today, when both have entered a completely different chapter of their lives.