Chapter 1 — The Language of Hands

Part I — Strange Language

Do Thao Nguyen stood in front of the bathroom mirror, clumsily rehearsing a few symbols she had just seen on a short video last night, then sighed and put her hand down. For three years in a row, since her younger brother Binh An was confirmed to be born deaf, she has always told herself that she would learn sign language "when she has more free time", a promise she never kept.

"Are you watching the sign video again?" Binh An, now in ninth grade, walked past the bathroom door, her eyes sparkling when she saw her phone with the video still open in her hand. He gestured quickly, a simple question that still took Thao Nguyen a few seconds to fully understand.

"Yes," she replied in her voice with a nod, because her small symbolic capital was not enough to fully answer that question. Binh An shrugged his shoulders, did not show any disappointment or blame, simply turned away and continued his work, a reaction that had become so familiar that it made Thao Nguyen even more guilty.

For many years, her parents have always been the main bridge between Thao Nguyen and her younger brother - translating what he wants to say, explaining what she wants to convey. She told herself that she "didn't have a talent for languages", but deep down, she knew that was just an easy excuse to avoid the feeling of helplessness every time she tried to learn without enough patience.

On Monday morning at school, Thao Nguyen happened to pass by the notice board posted in front of the Doan Doi room, where a brand new poster introduced the Sign Language Club that had just been established this school year. She stopped, her heart beating a beat faster.

"Sign Language Club — Connection, understanding, no limits," the text on the poster reads, accompanied by a short introduction that will take place this afternoon in the small hall.

In a rare impulsive moment, Thao Nguyen pulled out her phone to take a photo of the poster, then without giving herself time to change her mind, she registered to participate right on the attached link.

That afternoon, when she entered the small auditorium, she saw about twenty students filling the front rows, mostly faces she did not know. On the podium, a tall, calm young man was standing waiting for everyone to settle down, occasionally making quick signs with a woman standing next to him - who Thao Nguyen later learned was Ms. Xuan, the club advisor.

"Hello everyone, I'm Nguyen Gia Bach, head of the Sign Language Club," the boy opened, his voice clear but warm. "Before we start, I want to share a little bit about why this club was born. My parents are both deaf. I grew up speaking two languages at the same time — Vietnamese and sign language — and I realized that many people around me, including friends with deaf relatives, have never really learned how to fully communicate with them."

That sentence made Thao Nguyen clench her hands on her thighs, feeling as if Gia Bach was talking directly about herself.

"This club is not just a place to learn a new language," Gia Bach continued, his eyes scanning the entire hall. "It is a place to build a real bridge between two worlds that are often separated by unnecessary silence."

After the introduction, when everyone started to disperse, Gia Bach approached Thao Nguyen, perhaps noticing her unusually thoughtful eyes throughout the whole time. "Are you Okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I'm fine," Thao Nguyen replied, trying to smile. "It's just... I have a younger brother who was born deaf. I came here because I wanted to learn how to really talk to him, after many years of letting my parents do it for me."

Gia Bach was silent for a moment, his eyes full of understanding, no need for further explanation. “Then you've come to the right place,” he said, his voice sincere. "It won't be easy, but I believe you can do it, if you really persevere this time."

Thao Nguyen nodded, feeling a new determination creeping into her heart, different from all the empty promises she had told herself over the past three years.

On the way home, she immediately texted Le Hai Yen, her best friend since middle school, telling her about her unexpected decision. "I just signed up for the Sign Language Club," she wrote. "This time I will really learn, not just talk."

"Finally got it," Hai Yen texted back immediately, accompanied by an applause emoji. "I'm happy for you. I've seen you keep worrying about this for a long time. Now that you have the chance, don't miss it."

"I'm afraid I'll give up halfway like always," Thao Nguyen confessed, her fingers slowly tapping on the screen. "Notation is much more difficult than I thought. After taking a few online lessons, I was already frustrated."

"This time is different, you have a whole club to study with, you don't have to figure it out alone anymore," Hai Yen reassured. "Besides, listening to you talk about your homeroom teacher, it seems like you found the right person to learn from."

Thao Nguyen read that text message and couldn't hold back a small smile, even though inside she was still worried about whether she would be persistent enough this time or not.

When she got home, she saw Binh An sitting in the living room, attentively drawing something in the notebook she always carried with her. She sat down next to me, signaling hello with the few signs she knew - a simple wave with a smile.

Binh An looked up, a bit surprised by that unexpected gesture, then waved back, a rare ray of curiosity flashing through his eyes.

"I just signed up to learn sign language at school," Thao Nguyen said, awkwardly trying to sign each word, even though she knew her vocabulary was too small to fully express that sentence.

Binh An looked at her for a long moment, as if considering whether to believe this promise or not — perhaps he had heard similar promises from his sister too many times. But then, he nodded slightly, scribbled a few words in the notebook and showed it to her: "Okay, I'll wait and see."

Those three short words, even though they didn't carry much expectation, still made Thao Nguyen's heart tighten with a feeling of both guilt and determination. She realized that this was not just a promise to herself, but also an opportunity to prove to her younger brother that this time, she would not give up halfway.

That night, when the whole family gathered to eat, her mother noticed a slight change in the atmosphere between the two sisters, her questioning eyes filled with surprise. "You two are having more fun together today than usual," she commented, as she spoke, gesturing back for Binh An to understand.

"I just signed up for the Sign Language Club at school," Thao Nguyen explained, trying to keep her voice normal even though she was still nervous and not sure how her parents would react.

Her mother was stunned for a moment, then her eyes shone with an unconcealed joy. "Really? I'm so happy," she said, her voice choking up a bit. "Mom and Dad have always hoped that one day you would proactively learn this, but they didn't want to force you, afraid you would feel pressured."

"I'm sorry it took so long," Thao Nguyen said, bowing her head, the feeling of guilt rising in her heart again. "I know I should have learned a long time ago."

"It's okay," her father said, his voice warm and reassuring. "Each person has their own pace to get ready for important things in life. The important thing is that you have started, and we believe you will go to the end this time."

Binh An, although he could not hear the entire verbal conversation, still recognized the warm atmosphere spreading around the dining table through everyone's eyes and gestures. He gestured to ask his mother what was going on, and when it was explained again, his face lit up with a rare smile, his eyes looking at his sister were full of scrutiny but could not hide a small ray of hope.

Thao Nguyen met that look, smiled back, silently telling herself that no matter how difficult the road ahead was, she would not let that smile disappoint her again.

After dinner, she went up to her room and re-opened the basic sign instruction video she had half-watched before, but this time, instead of just watching it and leaving it unfinished like usual, she patiently practiced each sign over and over again, taking careful notes in a newly purchased notebook. Her fingers were still clumsy, sometimes confusing similar symbols, but she did not allow herself to give up like before.

She thought about Binh An's cautious, hopeful eyes just now, about Gia Bach's sincere words at the club introduction, and about the guilt that had haunted her for the past three years. This time, she told herself, things would be different. Not because she suddenly became better, but because she was willing to face her own clumsiness, instead of avoiding it like before.