Chapter 5 — Unprocessed Photos

The following Tuesday, Bao Nghi arrived at school half an hour earlier than usual, not because she had anything to do, but because she knew that if she arrived on time like every other day, she would have a long day to rethink, to find dozens of reasonable reasons to delay again. She wanted to act before fear could speak.

But it turned out that the dark room was still locked early in the morning, and the club only met after school. She stood in front of the black painted wooden door for a moment, feeling a bit silly because of her haste, then returned to class, bringing with her the long day of suspense that she had tried to avoid.

During morning recess, Thanh Truc came to her class, bringing a small box of cookies as a way to silently encourage her. "Is today the day you plan to talk to him?" she asked, without needing Bao Nghi to confirm, just looking at her friend's unusually tense face was enough to understand.

"I think so," Bao Nghi replied, his hand tightening on the corner of the table. "But I still don't know exactly what I'm going to say."

"You don't need a perfect speech," Thanh Truc said, placing the box of cookies on her desk. "You just need to tell the truth, in your own way. He seems like a good listener."

During the entire class, Bao Nghi could hardly concentrate on the lecture, his mind kept spinning with different scenarios for the upcoming conversation. In the last period, when the dismissal bell rang, she felt her heart beating so fast that she could almost hear the beat in her ears.

She walked slowly towards block B, her school bag on her shoulder felt heavier than usual even though it contained nothing extra. The door to the dark room was open, daylight poured into a corner, and she could hear the familiar sounds of talking and laughter echoing out — but this time, instead of standing behind the pillar, she walked straight to the door, knocking lightly three times according to the instructions on the sign.

The conversation in the room quieted down. A few seconds later, the door opened wider, and Minh Khang appeared, his eyes briefly surprised when he recognized the person standing in front of him.

"Bao Nghi?" he said, his voice was a bit surprised but quickly turned to joy, although he tried to restrain himself from sounding too excited. "You... you came looking for the club?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly but still maintaining the necessary clarity. "Only."

Minh Khang nodded immediately, went back inside to say something to the remaining members - Bao Nghi caught a glimpse of a tall and thin male friend, probably Dinh Phong, raised his eyebrows curiously and looked out before being pulled by another friend's hand to go back to work. Minh Khang walked out into the hallway, half-closed the door behind him, and stood facing her at a sufficient distance, not too close to create pressure, nor too far to appear indifferent.

"I overheard the conversation between you and teacher Dat the other day," Bao Nghi started, deciding to get straight to the point instead of beating around the bush like she had practiced. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just... I happened to be passing by."

Minh Khang's face flashed with confusion, then quickly turned into understanding. "Ah... so you heard everything."

"Yes," she nodded, biting her lower lip lightly. "I heard you say you would never use my name to bargain, even if it could save the whole club. I... I don't know how to thank you properly."

"You don't need to thank me for that," Minh Khang said, his voice sincere. "It's simply the right thing to do."

Bao Nghi took a deep breath, feeling like he was standing on the brink of an irreversible decision. "I want to try," she said, each word carefully considered before she uttered it. "Join the club, that's what I mean. But I have some conditions, and I need you to promise to honor them, before I walk through that door."

Minh Khang's eyes lit up, but he held back, not letting the excitement overwhelm him, just nodded seriously. "I'm listening."

"First," Bao Nghi said, her voice gradually becoming more steady as she actually said what she had been thinking for many days, "my identity as 'Observer' must be kept absolutely secret, even from the other members of the club, at least until I decide otherwise. I will help you by taking photos, giving layout suggestions, providing technical support, but I don't want my name to appear publicly associated with those works, not yet."

"Okay," Minh Khang nodded immediately, without hesitation.

"Second," she continued, "I will not appear in any photos, whether group photos, behind-the-scenes photos, or anything that can be posted publicly. If someone wants to take a photo of me, they must ask first, and I have the right to refuse at any time without explaining the reason."

Minh Khang was silent for a moment, his eyes flashed with something hard to name - perhaps curiosity, perhaps a little regret, but he quickly nodded. "I promise. No photos of you will be taken or posted without your express consent first."

"Third," Bao Nghi said, his voice a little quieter, "if I ever feel uncomfortable, I need the right to withdraw, without being questioned, without being forced to explain. I know the club needs people, urgently, but I can't promise that I will stay forever if things become too much for me."

"I understand," Minh Khang replied, his voice softened. "Honestly, I'm glad you made these things clear from the beginning, instead of being shy and silently suffering. Our club, more than anyone else, needs someone who understands the value of honesty — including honesty about one's own limitations."

Bao Nghi felt some of the tension in his chest gradually melt away. She didn't expect everything to go so smoothly, with no objections, no attempts to persuade her to relax the conditions she had just set.

"So... can I come in?" she asked, her voice still hesitant.

Minh Khang smiled, gently pushed the door open, the dim red light from the safety lamp in the corner of the room - the club was probably preparing to develop a few rolls of film - shone out into the hallway, dyeing a strange warm color on the white tile floor.

"Welcome to the Photography Club, Bao Nghi," he said, his voice filled with a joy that he was no longer trying to hide. "At your pace, your way. We're just glad you're here."

Bao Nghi stepped through the threshold, her heart beating fast with excitement but no longer pure fear like the previous times - this time, mixed with it was a new, trembling but warm feeling, like the first step into a strange body of water that she had been watching from the shore for a long time.

Inside, Dinh Phong looked up, his eyes bright with curiosity, but before he could say anything, another girl nudged him to stop him, just smiling and greeting Bao Nghi with friendly eyes. No one asked her name, no one asked where she came from, what class she attended — perhaps Minh Khang had warned her in advance, or perhaps it was simply the natural courtesy of people accustomed to respecting the privacy of others.

Bao Nghi stood in the middle of the small room, inhaling the characteristic chemical smell, looking at the photo drying lines strung across the ceiling, the film rolls hanging like silver ribbons sparkling under the dim red light, and for the first time in three years, she felt like she was standing in a place where, perhaps, she didn't need to be completely hidden to belong.

Before leaving that day, Minh Khang took her around the darkroom, briefly introducing each area: the film processing corner with chemical tanks lined up neatly, the photo drying area with horizontal wire and small wooden clips, and the large photo enlargement table placed in the middle of the room, covered with a black cloth to prevent light from entering while working.

"This is a safety light," he pointed to the red light hanging in the corner of the ceiling, his voice enthusiastic like a true tour guide. "Red light doesn't damage light-sensitive photo paper, so we can work under this light without worrying about burning the film we're developing. You'll get used to seeing everything through this red color. It's a bit strange at first, but then you'll see that it... has something very unique."

"I like it now," Bao Nghi said softly, her eyes still looking around the room as if she were memorizing every little detail so she could replay it in her mind later whenever she needed a place to hide.

Minh Khang smiled, didn't say anything more, just quietly observed her with the eyes of someone who has just witnessed something precious gradually unfolding, carefully but surely, like a photo slowly taking shape in a chemical bath - slowly, not in a hurry, but so beautiful when each line begins to appear clearly.

That night, when she got home, she texted Thanh Truc just one short line: "I joined the club. On my terms." A few seconds later, her phone vibrated with a series of celebratory emojis from Thanh Truc, accompanied by a long, proud voice message that she listened to three times before falling asleep, feeling more relieved than any night in the past three years.

Before turning off the light, she took out her notebook one last time, turned to the page with the two lines she wrote the previous day, and added a third line, this time the handwriting was no longer shaky: "I tried. And I'm still intact." She closed the notebook, placed it next to the old camera, turned off the desk lamp, and fell asleep with a strange but pleasant feeling - the feeling of a door just opened, not to let someone in, but to let herself, for the first time, voluntarily step out.