Chapter 16 — The Machine of Dreams

Part IV — Rifts and Doubts

After the resounding victory in the regional qualifiers, the whole Lê Quý Đôn school talked about the Robotics Club for many days. The school board hung a congratulatory banner right in front of the school gate, and the principal personally went to the factory to praise the whole team during the flag activity at the beginning of the week. But amid that joyful atmosphere, Bảo Châu noticed a worrying change in Hoàng Nam.

He began to be absent from club activities more often, sometimes without notice, just sending a short message "I'm busy today, everyone please try it yourself" without further explanation. When present, he also spoke less, often looked at his watch, and his previously meticulous and detailed technical comments now became superficial and unfocused.

"Have you been paying attention to Hoàng Nam lately?" Đức asked Bảo Châu quietly while the two were reassembling the upgraded gripper arm for the upcoming national finals. "He's like a different person, like he's thinking about something far away."

"I feel the same way," Bảo Châu admitted, the feeling of anxiety that had been simmering in her heart for the past two weeks now even more obvious. "But every time she asked, he said it was nothing."

On Wednesday afternoon, when Hoàng Nam was rarely fully present at the factory, the working atmosphere became unusually tense. He repeatedly asked Tấn Phát to edit the programming code even though there were no obvious errors, then immediately changed his mind, leaving the whole group confused about which direction to take.

"Hoàng Nam, you can decide whatever you want, but you have to be consistent," Tấn Phát finally spoke up, his voice unable to hide the accumulated frustration. "We have less than a month left until the national finals, we don't have time to keep making meaningless revisions like this."

"I'm sorry," Hoàng Nam replied, his voice tired, rubbing his temples. "I just... I can't concentrate very much today."

"What's up?" Bảo Châu asked, put down the tools, and approached him with sincere worried eyes.

"Nothing," Hoàng Nam replied, a familiar answer that now made Bảo Châu feel more uncomfortable than sympathetic like before. "It's just that I have a lot to worry about these days."

"What?" she asked again, trying not to sound pushy. "You can share with us. We're a team."

Hoàng Nam looked at her for a moment, seemingly considering whether to say it or not, but in the end he just shook his head, his eyes avoiding her. "It's not important. Let me handle it myself."

That answer, although nothing new compared to Hoàng Nam's familiar closed attitude in the first days of the school year, made Bảo Châu feel more hurt than she thought. After everything the two of them had shared, after the night on the factory steps when he confessed his fear of failure, after the moment by the river that night celebrating his victory, she thought that she had become the person he could trust to share everything with, even the most difficult things. But now, he was building that familiar wall again, pushing her away like the first days they knew each other.

That evening, when the team was preparing to leave, Bảo Châu happened to see Hoàng Nam standing alone in the corner of the hallway, the phone close to his ear, his face so tense that it turned pale. She couldn't clearly hear the content of the conversation, only saw him continuously nodding, occasionally opening his mouth as if he wanted to protest something but then stopped, only responding with short, submissive sentences.

When he hung up the phone, Hoàng Nam stood silently for a long time, leaning his back against the wall, holding his head with both hands, looking so exhausted that Bảo Châu had to restrain herself from running over immediately. But when she was about to step forward, he saw her and quickly stood up straight, adjusting his familiar calm face.

"Are you still here?" he asked, his voice trying to sound natural but unable to hide the awkwardness.

"Who were you talking to? You don't look good at all," Bảo Châu asked directly, no longer wanting to beat around the bush like before.

"Nothing," Hoàng Nam replied, shouldering his backpack, walking quickly toward the school gate as if trying to avoid this conversation. "I have to go home, I still have to study."

Bảo Châu stood and watched his figure disappear into the sunset, feeling an invisible but increasingly clear distance forming between the two of them, different from the warm closeness she had become accustomed to over the past few months. She took out her phone, intending to text him to ask, but then stopped, not knowing what to write when the message recipient seemed to be trying to push her away for no apparent reason.

That evening, Bảo Châu called Thục Hiền and told her everything she had observed during the past two weeks. "I don't understand what's going on," she said, her voice filled with both worry and confusion. "He seems to be withdrawing from everything, from the team, from me too."

"Do you think it has something to do with his mother coming to pick him up the other day?" Thục Hiền asked, her voice thoughtful.

"It's possible," Bảo Châu admitted. "But every time I asked, he avoided it and refused to say anything."

"Then just be patient and wait a little longer," Thục Hiền advised, her voice gentle and comforting. "Maybe he needs time to organize his thoughts before he's ready to share. But if this situation lasts too long, maybe you should talk to him frankly, even though it may be difficult to hear."

That advice stayed in Bảo Châu's mind all that night, as she struggled to sleep, worried about what lay ahead — not only for the upcoming national finals, but also for the fragile, precious relationship she had worked so hard to cultivate with the boy who once made her feel like she truly belonged somewhere, and now seemed to be becoming more and more strange with each passing day.

In the days that followed, the condition did not improve. Hoàng Nam continued to be absent erratically, and even when he was present, he just sat quietly at the corner of his desk, poring over pages of exam review documents that he tried to hide among the stacks of technical drawings every time someone passed by. Bảo Châu once accidentally saw the cover of an aptitude test preparation book, with pages curled at the edges from being turned over and over again, mixed in with a pile of documents about robots on her desk.

The atmosphere in the factory, once filled with laughter and lively conversations, now became heavy and awkward. Tấn Phát tried to maintain the familiar cheerfulness with a few jokes, but fewer and fewer people responded, and he himself began to appear more tired and irritable under the pressure of work placed on his shoulders in the absence of consistent direction from Hoàng Nam.

"At this rate," Đức said one afternoon, sounding worried when the whole group met privately without Hoàng Nam to discuss the progress of preparations for the national finals, "we won't be able to complete the necessary upgrades before competition day. There's less than three weeks left."

"I know," Bảo Châu replied, a feeling of helplessness rising in her heart. "But every time I try to talk to Hoàng Nam, he avoids it. I don't know how to help him anymore."

Teacher Vinh, realizing the obvious change in the team's atmosphere, tried to talk privately with Hoàng Nam several times, but each time, his student only responded with short, polite but closed answers, not revealing anything more about the difficulties he was facing.

"I'm worried about him," she shared with Bảo Châu one afternoon, when they were both checking the spare parts warehouse together. "I have taught Hoàng Nam since the tenth grade. I know he is the type of person who would rather bear everything himself than let others see him as weak. But this time, I fear that the burden is beyond what an eighteen-year-old student can bear."

That comment made Bảo Châu even more worried, and also strengthened her determination that, no matter how much Hoàng Nam tried to push everyone away, she would not easily give up trying to reach him, even if she had to face discomfort or rejection from the person she cared most deeply about throughout this school year.

"Do you think I should try talking frankly with her?" Bảo Châu asked teacher Vinh, her voice a bit hesitant.

"I think you should try," Mr. Vinh replied, nodding encouragingly. "But choose the right time, and more importantly, let him know that he is worried because he cares, not because he blames him. Sometimes people who are used to holding everything alone just need a solid enough reason to allow themselves to let go of the burden."

Bảo Châu remembered that advice, telling herself that she would find a suitable opportunity to talk to Hoàng Nam, even though in her heart she still had many vague fears about what that conversation would lead to - a deeper understanding between the two, or an even bigger gap that she was not ready to face.