Chapter 11 — Two Sides of an Argument

Part III — School Level Qualifiers

The first training session after the victory against the "hypothetical opponent" had a completely different atmosphere than what Hạ Vy was used to. She entered the club room with a strange feeling of relief, the feeling of someone who has just gone through a bumpy road and begins to believe that the front will be smoother. Việt Bách was already present, rearranging the stack of notepads on the table, and when he saw her, he slightly nodded in greeting, a simple gesture but for him it was a long way compared to the cold eyes of assessment the day she first arrived.

"You're here so early," she said, pulling out a chair to sit next to him, something that had become a natural habit after weeks of training together.

"I want to review the video of the match the other day," Việt Bách replied, his eyes still glued to the laptop screen. "There are a few transitions between my data and your introduction that are still a bit stiff. If they meet a real opponent, they will exploit that exact gap."

"The hypothetical opponents the other day were just friends in the club playing a role," Hạ Vy said, although in her heart she secretly agreed with his comment. "You worry too much."

Việt Bách was about to respond, but at that moment Mr. Sơn walked into the room, followed by almost all the club members, making the classroom atmosphere much more crowded than usual. There was something about the teacher's fast gait and unusually serious expression that made Hạ Vy immediately feel that today's practice session would be different from usual.

"Everyone, please sit down," Mr. Sơn said, his voice not loud but enough to silence the whole room. The teacher stood in the middle of the familiar "arena", his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes scanning each face in turn before stopping on Hạ Vy and Việt Bách. "I have an important announcement, and I want you all to hear it directly from me, instead of hearing it through rumors."

The whole room went silent. Hồ Tuấn Kiệt, sitting in the back row, completely stopped turning the pen in his hand.

"As you know, the decision to pair Hạ Vy and Việt Bách into a team is my own decision, based on my professional assessment after the internal selection round," Mr. Sơn continued, his voice steady but heavy. "But I'm not the only one with a voice in this club. This morning, I received an official opinion from the Board of Directors, after some parents and some members of the club expressed concerns about that decision."

Hạ Vy felt her heart skip a beat. She glanced at Việt Bách, saw his jaw tightened, his eyes darkened - she guessed he vaguely understood that her father was involved in the matter of "some parents" that Mr. Sơn had just mentioned, even though he did not name anyone.

"Many people believe that the teacher's arbitrarily deciding on the pairing, ignoring the tight results of the selection round, is unfair to the other contestants in the club - especially to Anh Khoa and Ngọc Hân, who also reached the final top of the internal qualifying round." Teacher Sơn looked towards the corner of the room, where Đỗ Anh Khoa sat with his back straight, his eyes as sharp as a knife, next to him was Vũ Ngọc Hân, his face cold but containing an undisguised confidence. "Therefore, after consideration, he proposed a solution to the School Board, and that proposal was approved."

The teacher paused for a moment, as if to give the whole room time to prepare mentally.

"The team of Hạ Vy and Việt Bách will have to prove that they are worthy of the only competition spot with an official, public school-level qualifying round, with an independent jury from outside — not just the teacher. Their opponents will be Anh Khoa and Ngọc Hân, the strongest remaining pair of the club." Teacher Sơn looked straight at Hạ Vy and then at Việt Bách. "If you win, the competition belongs to your team, no one can question my decision anymore. If you lose..."

The teacher didn't finish his sentence, but no one in the room needed him to finish. If they lost, the competition spot would go to Anh Khoa and Ngọc Hân, and the combination of reason and emotion that Mr. Sơn believed in would officially be considered a failed experiment.

"How long do you have to prepare?" Việt Bách asked, his voice maintained its familiar calmness, but Hạ Vy, who had learned to read the smallest changes on his face over the past few weeks, noticed a tension tightening in each word.

"Two weeks," Mr. Sơn replied. "The qualifying round will take place on Saturday in two weeks, in the large hall, with the participation of representatives of the Department of Education and a guest judge from the university. I know this is a short period of time, but I believe you are capable."

From the corner of the room, Đỗ Anh Khoa stood up and walked out into the middle of the "arena" with a confident, almost provocative look. He is a bit taller than Việt Bách, his eyes are sharp, the type of person who always looks straight at his opponents as if he has calculated their every move in advance. "I think this is a fair chance that should have been given from the beginning," he said, not hiding the slight sarcasm in his voice. "It's not that I don't respect your decision, but the whole club knows that putting two opposing styles together sounds good, but in reality on the field, a homogeneous team with perfect chemistry like me and Ngọc Hân always has the advantage."

Vũ Ngọc Hân stood up next to him, nodded, her eyes glanced at Hạ Vy with a cold, undisguised scrutiny. "Nothing personal," she said, her voice gentle but sharp as a well-sharpened blade. "But we'll attack without holding back. That's how we always argue."

Hạ Vy felt the eyes of the whole room on her and Việt Bách, waiting for a reaction. In the past, such a statement would have made her hesitate, recalling the judge's words last year, recalling the feeling of being judged as "not solid enough". But this time, she realized she was not alone.

"Then we will prepare to receive it," Việt Bách said, standing up, his voice sounding firm, showing no signs of wavering. He glanced at Hạ Vy, and in that brief moment, she saw in his eyes not the skepticism like the first day, but an invitation - a true, unreserved invitation to cooperate.

"That's right," Hạ Vy continued, standing up next to him, surprised by the confidence in her voice. "Two weeks is enough."

After Mr. Sơn ended the meeting and dismissed the club, Hạ Vy, Việt Bách, Mỹ Duyên and Tuấn Kiệt lingered in the living room, sitting around the long table, the fluorescent lights reflecting on the notes pages had begun to thicken.

"Are you okay?" Hạ Vy asked quietly, when Tuấn Kiệt and Mỹ Duyên were arguing passionately about which policy topic to choose to practice first. She looked at Việt Bách and realized that he was still a bit absent-minded since Mr. Sơn mentioned "some parents".

"I'm fine," Việt Bách replied, but the answer came too quickly, too succinctly, the way he usually answers when he doesn't want to go deep into something. He turned the pen in his hand, looking down at the stack of notes. "It's just... I guess who spoke to the School Board."

Hạ Vy didn't ask more, but she remembered that, putting it in a corner of her mind, next to the fragmentary pieces that Tuấn Kiệt had accidentally revealed about Việt Bách's family - a strict father, an invisible pressure that always weighed heavily on the shoulders of this talented, confident, almost perfect classmate.

"Okay, don't think about that anymore," Việt Bách said, as if reminding himself, then opened his laptop, his voice turning into the usual serious and pragmatic tone. "We have two weeks. I think we should start by analyzing the styles of Anh Khoa and Ngọc Hân. They attack aggressively, rarely giving their opponents time to breathe. If we don't have a really tight strategy, they will drag us into their rhythm from the first minute."

"Then we need a strategy that's different from their pace," Hạ Vy said, her mind already starting to spin with ideas. "If they want to rush, we will show them certainty. No need to follow their pace, just stand firm."

Việt Bách looked at her, a moment of surprise flashed across his face, then gave way to a small, rare smile. "That's exactly what I was going to say."

Mỹ Duyên, overhearing the conversation from the other side of the table, turned to smile at Tuấn Kiệt. "Do you see," she whispered, loud enough for Hạ Vy to hear, "those two people now think so much alike that it's scary."

"I've always said that I just need more time," Tuấn Kiệt replied, seeming philosophical, making Mỹ Duyên laugh out loud, drawing a light glare from Việt Bách and a shy smile from Hạ Vy.

That evening, when the group had left, Hạ Vy lingered alone in the living room, arranging the notes scattered on the table into a neat pile. She thought about Đỗ Anh Khoa's cold eyes, Vũ Ngọc Hân's merciless voice, and even the fleeting moment when Việt Bách mentioned "some parents" with an expression as if he had just touched an old wound that had not yet healed.

Two weeks, she thought, tightening her grip around the stack of notes. Two weeks to prove that their union was not a reckless gamble on Mr. Sơn's part, but something truly worthwhile — not just for the exam, not just for the club, but, she realized with some embarrassment, for herself and Việt Bách as well.

She walked out of her room, locked the door, and in the darkness of the empty school hallway, she felt in her heart, for the first time since the day she transferred schools, a clear sense of determination, free from any doubts about whether she should continue on this path or not. The question now was no longer whether to stay, but how to go with Việt Bách to the end.