Chapter 15 — Two Sides of an Argument

The jury's consultation took nearly fifteen minutes, a period of time that Hạ Vy felt was as long as an entire class period. She stood backstage with Việt Bách. The two of them didn't say much, only occasionally glancing at each other, as if sharing their nervousness with their eyes was enough to reassure them both. On the other side of the stage, Anh Khoa and Ngọc Hân also stood quietly, Anh Khoa's face still maintained its usual confident expression, but Hạ Vy noticed his hand tightening the edge of his uniform jacket, a small sign of tension that he tried to hide.

Finally, Mr. Sơn stood up, held the results paper, and walked to the middle of the stage. The whole hall immediately fell silent, to the point that Hạ Vy could clearly hear her heart beating in her chest.

"This is one of the best debate matches I have witnessed in my many years as a club advisor," Mr. Sơn started, his voice echoing throughout the hall, warm but full of weight. "Both teams demonstrated a level that far exceeded expectations, and the jury had to discuss very carefully before reaching the final decision."

He stopped for a moment, and in that moment, Hạ Vy felt Việt Bách standing closer to her, even though the two never touched each other, just a presence close enough for her to feel the warmth.

"With a close but clear score, the team that won the school-level qualifying round, winning the official representative to attend the National School Debate Tournament, was the team of Nguyễn Hạ Vy and Trần Việt Bách."

There was a brief moment of silence, as if the entire hall needed a second to absorb the information, before cheers and applause erupted. Mỹ Duyên jumped up from her chair, held up the homemade sign, and shouted both of their names until her voice was hoarse. Tuấn Kiệt whistled loudly, stood up and applauded endlessly.

Hạ Vy stood still for a moment, feeling like all the sounds around her suddenly became distant, leaving only her pounding heartbeat and a surge of emotions that couldn't be named - a mixture of joy, relief, and something deeper, like the feeling of being vindicated after a long year of carrying old wounds.

Việt Bách turned to her first, his eyes shining in a way she had never seen before, without any trace of the constant tension and repression. "We won," he said, his voice shaking with emotion, a rare thing for someone who always remained absolutely calm.

"We won," Hạ Vy repeated, bursting into laughter, tears suddenly welling up in the corners of her eyes that she couldn't stop. Without thinking much, she held out her hand, and Việt Bách took it, squeezing it tightly in a handshake that turned into a brief, awkward but sincere hug, as they both laughed at their own irrepressible excitement.

The judges walked down to shake hands and congratulate both teams, and even the most serious guest lecturer stopped to talk privately with Hạ Vy. “Your combination of story and data is rare for your age,” she said, smiling. "I look forward to seeing them shine on the national stage."

Đỗ Anh Khoa approached, held out his hand, his expression, although still a little disappointed, was no longer as provocative as two weeks ago. "We admit that we underestimated the combination of the two of you," he said, his voice frank. "The last match was the hardest match I've ever participated in."

"Thank you," Việt Bách replied, shaking his hand sincerely. "Your and Ngọc Hân's attacks forced us to prepare more carefully than in any previous match. Without that pressure, we probably wouldn't have been able to find this final strategy."

Vũ Ngọc Hân stood next to her, nodding slightly at Hạ Vy, her usual cold eyes now mixed with a bit of respect. "The story about Minh and the leaked video," she said, "that was the point that made me know it would be difficult for us to win right from that moment. I was prepared with a logical argument, but not prepared to refute a story that made the whole auditorium silent like that."

After the hall gradually emptied, Mr. Sơn gathered the entire club together and announced that there would be a small party to celebrate right in the club's living room that afternoon. The group went together to buy candy, soft drinks, and decorated the room with colored paper strips left over from last month's art performance, turning the normally serious space of intense practice sessions into a cozy little party.

"Drink to the strangest debate team our club has ever had," Tuấn Kiệt said, holding up the can of soda, grinning. "One only believes in data, one only believes in stories, now they beat a pair that is recognized by the whole school as the strongest."

"It's thanks to both of you willing to learn from each other," Mỹ Duyên interjected, smiling at Hạ Vy. "I still remember the first day you walked into this room, you still couldn't believe you belonged here. Now look back."

Hạ Vy smiled, feeling a sting in her nose. She looked around the room, seeing the familiar faces that had become an indispensable part of her life over the past few months - Mỹ Duyên with her smile always encouraging her not to give up, Tuấn Kiệt with his humor that eased tensions, Mr. Sơn with his trusting eyes that had bet his reputation on a bold decision, and Việt Bách, standing next to Tuấn Kiệt, laughing and talking more loudly than she had ever seen, a relaxed, light-hearted version of him that perhaps only appeared when he temporarily escapes the shadow of oppressive expectations.

Teacher Sơn tapped the glass of water lightly, attracting the attention of the whole room. "I want to say a few words," he said, his eyes scanning each member before stopping on Hạ Vy and Việt Bách. "When I decided to put you two together, many people, even in the club, thought that I was taking a risk with the school's only exam spot. I don't deny that it was a gamble. But I believe that a truly solid argument not only needs to be correct, but also needs to be remembered, needs touch the listener. And today, you two have proven that not only to the judges, but to this entire Club."

The teacher raised the glass of water. "Because the debate team taught this old teacher a lesson about how sometimes, the two things that seem the most opposite are the things that complement each other most perfectly."

The whole room raised their glasses together, the sound of clinking glasses rang out amid bustling laughter. Hạ Vy turned to Việt Bách, saw that he was also looking at her, and in that moment, without needing to say another word, they both understood that today's victory not only belonged to a national competition, but was also a testament to something greater - that what they had built together over the past two months, from confrontation to reluctant cooperation to true trust, was not in vain.

The party lasted until nearly six o'clock in the afternoon, when the sunlight outside the window began to turn a familiar light orange color. Everyone gradually cleaned up, said goodbye to each other and left, the atmosphere still lingering with the excitement of a big day. Hạ Vy was helping Mỹ Duyên collect discarded paper cups when she heard Việt Bách's phone, which was charging on a nearby table, vibrate.

He picked up the phone, and Hạ Vy, standing nearby, saw the smile on his lips suddenly stop halfway when he saw the caller's name appear on the screen. He took a breath, then picked up the phone and walked to the corner of the room, but not far enough for Hạ Vy not to hear a few sentences in the conversation.

"Yes, I won," Việt Bách said, his voice still retaining the excitement, although less natural than when chatting with friends. "Yes, my team won the school qualifying round, officially winning the national competition spot."

There was a short silence, during which Hạ Vy could imagine Mr. Hùng's cold, monotone voice echoing on the other end of the line, even though she couldn't hear every word clearly.

"Yes, thank you, dad," Việt Bách continued, his voice softening a bit. "Yes, I understand. I won't forget."

The call ended quickly, much shorter than the joy that today's victory should have brought. Việt Bách stood silently for a moment in the corner of the room, still holding the phone in his hand, his eyes looking far out the window, the bright smile from before had completely disappeared, replaced by a complex expression that Hạ Vy could not fully read - not quite sad, not quite disappointed, but more like a familiar slackness, as if he had just been pulled back from a rare moment of happiness to a familiar, much heavier place.

"Did your dad call to congratulate you?" Hạ Vy asked softly, stepping closer, trying to keep her voice gentle, not wanting to delve into something she felt was sensitive.

"Yes," Việt Bách replied, putting the phone in his pocket, trying to force an unnatural smile. "Congratulations."

"But?" Hạ Vy continued asking, clearly realizing that there was a "but" hanging around unsaid.

Việt Bách was silent for a moment, looking out the window, where the sunset was dyeing the sky above the schoolyard orange. "He said he was happy that I won," he said slowly, "but he also reminded me not to forget what's really important. That a win at a school-level competition doesn't mean much compared to the long road ahead — college applications, the exams that really determine the future." He laughed dryly, a laugh that did not contain any joy. "Like, even in this moment, you can't simply be happy for me, without any conditions attached."

Hạ Vy didn't know what to say to comfort him, she just stood quietly next to him, letting her presence be a kind of wordless comfort. She remembered the night Mr. Hùng appeared in the club's living room, remembered the cold eyes, the sharp comments like knives, and now, she began to understand more clearly than ever the invisible weight that Việt Bách had carried with him for so many years, a weight that even a glorious victory like today was not enough to alleviate, even for just one afternoon.

"But we really won today," she said softly, taking his hand in a natural, uncalculated gesture. "And no matter what your father says, it's still true. You deserve to be completely happy about it, at least tonight."

Việt Bách looked at her, and gradually, a real smile returned to his lips, although there was still a hint of fatigue hidden deep underneath. "Thank you," he said, gently squeezing her hand in return. "You're right. Tonight, I want to be happy about what we accomplished."

They stood there for a long time, watching the sunset gradually disappear behind the rows of houses on campus, while behind them, the voices of Mỹ Duyên and Tuấn Kiệt were still laughing and joking, cleaning up what was left of the party. But even though neither of them said it, a part of Hạ Vy still couldn't stop thinking about the cold voice that rang through the phone, about the reminder "don't forget what's really important" that Mr. Hùng sent right in the moment that should only contain the purest joy.

Little did she know, that was just the beginning of an underground wave that was silently accumulating, a never-ending pressure that would soon come, threatening to sweep away everything they had worked so hard to build over the past weeks and months. But tonight, under the sky that was gradually turning dark purple, she just let herself enjoy the feeling of victory, and the strange warmth of Việt Bách's hand still holding her hand tightly, not in a hurry to let go.