The next morning, Bach Luu walked into class with eyes so swollen that not even a fly could squeeze its way in. He looked like he had spent the entire night wrestling with the world and losing spectacularly. The moment he sank into his usual seat, a shout tore through the quiet classroom.

"Good heavens, Bach Luu! What happened to your eyes?" the class vice monitor cried.

The class instantly erupted in chaos. Students gathered around him, their voices overlapping in a messy chorus of concern.

"It's okay, it's just bad luck. Thanks to you, our school even made it to the finals."

"Exactly! Bach Luu, you're already the champion in our hearts!"

Bach Luu forced a small smile—soft as mist, yet filled with the fragile fragments of a heart still hurting.

Lien Thuong, a classmate, cast a quick glance toward the back of the room where Mac Dinh sat. He remained silent, eyes fixed on his workbook as if completely unaffected by the commotion.

"Hey, Mac Dinh," Lien Thuong called. "Aren't you going to say something to comfort your best friend?"

Mac Dinh froze slightly, his pen halting mid-sentence. Slowly, he raised his head, voice low and edged with irritation.

"Crying won't fix anything."

The room went silent.
A few startled glances, a few quiet breaths.
Even Mac Dinh flinched internally—his words had come out colder than he intended. His gaze flickered briefly toward Bach Luu, but the boy only sat there with his shoulders curled inward, responding with a small, shaky smile.

"He's just teasing me... ha... ha..." Bach Luu murmured, his voice hoarse.

Thankfully, the teacher walked in at that moment, slicing through the heavy air. Her heels clicked sharply against the tiles, and she tapped her long ruler on the desk with a commanding tok.

"Your test scores look like a social hierarchy—some sky-high, some buried underground. I've paired you up so you can help each other study. We'll retest next week. Anyone who doesn't improve shouldn't expect to move up a grade."

Murmurs spread across the room.
She lifted the pairing list, reciting names like an oracle reading out fate.
And when the names 'Bach Luu – Mac Dinh' were announced, several heads turned toward them immediately.

Bach Luu offered a small smile—perhaps the only genuine one he had mustered all morning.

Mac Dinh simply exhaled, the sound unreadable—somewhere between resignation and surrender.

That afternoon, the library was unusually crowded. The air smelled faintly of old books and wood. Warm yellow lights poured over the table where the two boys sat facing each other, each surrounded by their own stack of materials.

Bach Luu lowered his head, gripping his pen so tightly his knuckles turned white. After a deep breath, he gathered all his courage.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, Mac Dinh. Let's pretend it never happened. I still want us to be friends... like before."

His swollen eyes shimmered under the light. Combined with his awkward expression, he looked painfully silly—and painfully endearing.

Mac Dinh put down his pen, voice rough with hesitation.

"Like before? Are you really okay with that?"

"I'm fine," Bach Luu said with a faint smile—so soft it almost dissolved into the air.

Mac Dinh stared at him for a long moment before speaking quietly, "I like you too, but... only as a friend. I barely slept last night. Not because of your confession, just... I was confused."

Bach Luu let out a short laugh. It was light as wind, yet somehow filled with ache.

"You lost sleep over me? That makes me weirdly happy. Think of it as revenge—I made you suffer through one long night."

"No one's as ridiculous as you," Mac Dinh sighed, resting his chin on his hand, though a faint curve tugged at the corner of his lips.

He looked straight at Bach Luu, voice indifferent but not unkind.
"Alright, show me the questions you don't get. If your score tanks, the teacher's going to come after me, and I'd rather not suffer."

Bach Luu brightened. "You really are reliable, Mac Dinh."

Silence wrapped around them again.
The sound of pen against paper grew louder than the wind outside the windows.
They lost track of time without realizing it—not until the security guard knocked on the door to remind them the library was closing.

Outside, night had settled completely. The streetlights cast warm halos over the empty schoolyard as the cold seeped through their clothes. Bach Luu hugged his backpack to his chest, walking with a slight hunch, while Mac Dinh strolled calmly beside him.

"You go ahead. I need to stop by the bike lot," Mac Dinh said.

"Wait!"

Mac Dinh's sleeve was tugged back.
Bach Luu held on tightly, eyes filled with a quiet plea.

"Let's go together. I... I mean, I want to hitch a ride with you."

Mac Dinh chuckled—deeper and warmer than usual.

"You're scared, aren't you? Big guy like you is just for show."

"Don't talk nonsense. I'm not scared," Bach Luu protested immediately, his tone childish and pouty.

Clack... clack...
The old bicycle was wheeled out.
Mac Dinh jerked his chin toward the back seat.
"Hop on. I'll take you home."

"You sure you can carry me?" Bach Luu asked in disbelief.

"Get on. It's nothing," Mac Dinh huffed.

The bicycle rolled into the night, wheels rattling softly against the brick path—clack... clack...
The boy in front pedaled with all his strength, sweat darkening the back of his shirt.
The boy behind leaned his head slightly, gaze drifting into the ink-dark night ahead.

Their breaths mingled into the winter air, forming pale clouds that floated then vanished.

Bach Luu smiled—a sad, beautiful smile.
In that fleeting moment, he wished the road would stretch on forever, even if it was only a temporary dream named "us."