Chapter 19 — The Machine of Dreams

Four days after the argument in the factory, Bảo Châu still kept his distance from Hoàng Nam, not sure how to approach him after the frank but hurtful words that had been exchanged between the two. She still went to the workshop regularly, still completing her design work, but the atmosphere between her and Hoàng Nam became awkward, only exchanging short sentences related to work, avoiding all personal topics.

That Tuesday, when Bảo Châu arrived at the factory earlier than usual to complete the final decorations before packing the robot to prepare for the competition trip, she overheard the conversation between Hoàng Nam and Tấn Phát coming from teacher Vinh's small office, the door ajar and not completely closed.

"Are you serious?" Tấn Phát's voice rang out, full of panic. "Are you planning to resign from your position as homeroom teacher right before the national finals?"

Bảo Châu stopped right in front of the door, her heart pounding, not daring to step in but also unable to stop himself from listening.

"I have no other choice," Hoàng Nam's voice replied, tired and heavy. "My parents gave me an ultimatum. If my test scores last week don't improve, I will have to quit the club completely to focus entirely on exam preparation. I think it's probably better for me to proactively withdraw now, so the team has time to prepare a replacement before the match, rather than letting everyone be passive in the middle."

"But it's only three weeks away!" Tấn Phát objected, his voice full of frustration. "Who are you going to let lead the team now? I'm not capable of taking care of everything like you."

"I believe you can do it," Hoàng Nam replied. "With the help of Bảo Châu and Đức as well. Everyone demonstrated their ability to manage themselves very well as we prepared for the new object stacking challenge."

"It's not a matter of ability, Hoàng Nam," Tấn Phát said, his voice softened but still full of worry. "Have you told this story to Bảo Châu?"

There was a long silence before Hoàng Nam answered. "No," he said softly. "I don't know how to tell her."

"You have to talk," Tấn Phát affirmed, his voice more serious than ever. "After everything you two have been through, you can't let her know this news through someone else. That would hurt her more than your decision to back out."

Bảo Châu, standing outside the door, felt a wave of dizziness spread throughout her body, as if the ground beneath her feet had just collapsed. She took a few steps back, trying to stay calm, but tears began to flow uncontrollably. Not only because of the news that Hoàng Nam planned to withdraw from the club - although that was enough to make her heartbroken - but also because he discussed this important matter with Tấn Phát first, while she, the person he once said was so important to him that he didn't want to "drag into the mess", was the last person to know.

She turned around and quickly walked out of the workshop, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, her heart filled with hundreds of emotions—hurt, anger, and a deep sadness when she realized that, no matter how hard she tried, she still could not reach the deepest layer of the defense Hoàng Nam had built around himself.

That night, Bảo Châu stopped going to the workshop, using the excuse that she had to review for the upcoming test. She lay in the room, her phone silent next to her, trying not to let herself check to see if there were any messages from Hoàng Nam, even though she still secretly hoped he would proactively contact her to explain everything.

But the phone remained silent all evening, and near eleven o'clock at night, when Bảo Châu had almost given up hope, a text message finally appeared, not from Hoàng Nam, but from Tấn Phát.

"Are you okay? I noticed you left the workshop quite suddenly this afternoon. What's going on?"

Bảo Châu looked at the text message and realized that Tấn Phát must have also noticed something was wrong, although she didn't know exactly how much of their conversation she had heard. She typed a few short replies, not mentioning what she had heard, just saying that she needed some time alone.

She put down the phone, looked up at the ceiling in the dark, a feeling of loneliness engulfing her in a way she had never experienced since the first days of reluctantly entering the Robotics Club. At that time, she was lonely because she felt she did not belong there. Now, she was lonely because she felt like she belongs, trusts, and loves, but was not treated with adequate trust from the person she gave all that trust to.

She wondered if she was wrong to think that what was between her and Hoàng Nam was special, different from other normal team relationships. Or perhaps, under too much pressure from his family, Hoàng Nam had retreated deeper into the defensive, closed-off person he used to be before she entered his life, and everything they had built together over the past months, was now in danger of falling apart before it had a chance to truly blossom.

The next morning, news about the possibility of Hoàng Nam withdrawing from the position of homeroom leader spread throughout the team, although no one knew the exact details other than what Tấn Phát carefully shared in a small meeting without Hoàng Nam present. Đức, when he heard the news, could only be speechless, his hands trembling as he placed the wrench on the table.

"If Hoàng Nam really withdraws, what chance do we have in the national finals?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion. "He is the person who understands the entire robot system the most, from mechanics to competition tactics."

"I don't know either," Tấn Phát replied, his voice heavy. "But we cannot let this be decided without the voice of the whole team. This is not just Hoàng Nam's decision."

Bảo Châu, sitting silently at the corner of the table throughout the conversation, felt like she was standing in the middle of a storm that she had no way to stop. She remembered what teacher Vinh once said - about needing to find the right time to talk, about letting Hoàng Nam know that someone cares and not blames - but now, after knowing that he had secretly considered withdrawing without saying a word to her, she wasn't sure if she still had the courage to approach him again, afraid that it would only make things worse.

During recess that day, she went to Mr. Vinh's office and recounted what she had accidentally heard, her voice trembling because she was still in shock. Teacher Vinh listened, sighed, his face full of worry.

"I've felt this for a long time," he said, his voice low. "I will find a way to talk to Hoàng Nam, but I think what you need to do is not avoid her, Bảo Châu. Maybe it's because you're both hurt that you need to face each other, instead of letting the silence last any longer."

"I'm afraid if I say anything more, things will get worse," Bảo Châu confessed, her voice choking.

"Sometimes things need to get a little worse before they can get better," Mr. Vinh said, his eyes full of understanding as someone who has witnessed generations of students grow up through similar difficulties. "But I believe in you, and I believe you both will find a way to get through this, if you both truly want to keep what you've built."

Those words of encouragement somewhat reassured Bảo Châu, but when she walked out of Mr. Vinh's office, she still felt a heavy anxiety weighing on her shoulders, not only because of the fragile relationship between her and Hoàng Nam, but also because of the uncertain future of the whole team, which was hanging between hope and the risk of collapse in just less than three weeks.

That afternoon, she still went to the factory as usual, but deliberately arranged her schedule so she wouldn't had to stay at the same time as Hoàng Nam. When he arrived, she was on her way out; The two only exchanged glances at the factory door, no one said anything. Bảo Châu clearly felt Hoàng Nam's eyes wanting to hold her back, wanting to say something, but she walked away before he could speak, partly because she was still hurt, partly because she was afraid that if she stopped, she wouldn't be strong enough to maintain her stance.

Cycling home in the pale sunset, Bảo Châu let her chaotic thoughts wash away with each turn of the wheel. She remembered every passing moment — the first afternoon reluctantly entering the workshop, Hoàng Nam's first rare smile, the night on the steps when he confessed his fear of failure, the moment by the riverside after winning the regional qualifying round. All those memories were now mixed with the pain of the present, forming a jumble of emotions that she didn't know how to organize, only knowing that her heart was aching in a way she had never experienced before, even in her most self-conscious years.