An Phong froze, eyes widening. Was this guy… provoking him? And why? What had made him flip his attitude so suddenly?
"See? You can't either, right? Same as me. So don't go sticking your—"
"I'll try."
"What?" Uy Phong blinked. His gaze sharpened, cold as a blade drawn from its sheath. The air between them tightened, as if the wrong word would cut.
"I said I'll try signing up for Taekwondo again. What? Planning to back out already?"
"No, but… how could you? Weren't you the one who said it wasn't possible?"
"Nothing's impossible. If I want to, I'll find a way."
"You've lost it. Your brain's melted, hasn't it? Your grandfather will kill you. Just like my parents would kill me."
"Let them."
Uy Phong flinched. His voice dropped, low and taut with heat."What did you just say?"
"Let them get angry. While they're busy fuming, we live the way we want. I don't believe they can snuff us out—not if we're brave enough."
An Phong's lips curved, calm and steady. The look sent a tremor straight through Uy Phong's chest.
"…You're insane," he muttered. "What's gotten into you? Teen rebellion finally kicking in?"
"Maybe. So what—do you dare take this challenge?"
For a heartbeat, Uy Phong could only stare. In the depths of his eyes, something wild flickered—doubt and hunger colliding. It clawed its way up his ribs, pounding hard against his chest.
An Phong held his gaze, unflinching, then smiled faintly."Be yourself before your parents even notice. Who knows… maybe more people will support you than you think."
And just like that, Uy Phong saw his grandfather. The old man's face, lit up with a grin, maybe scolding him with a heavy pat on the back—but proud, so proud. The thought made something ache and warm in equal measure.
He wasn't alone. Not really.
"…Fine," Uy Phong said at last, voice rough. "I'll try. But if it blows up in my face, I'm done. I can't stand another reunion with my parents. It's a nightmare."
"Same here," An Phong replied easily. "If my grandfather loses it, I'll just run."
Uy Phong laughed, shaking his head. "Coward."
An Phong shrugged, lips quirking. "Look who's talking."
Later that night, Uy Phong shut himself in his room, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Hello? What's the matter, Uy Phong?" The gravelly voice filled the line.
"Grandpa…" His throat tightened.
"Yes? I'm listening. Everything okay at school today?"
"Yeah. It's fine. But… Grandpa, I want to… play basketball again."
There was a loud crash on the other end, like something clattering to the floor. Uy Phong shot upright, pulse spiking.
"Grandpa? What happened? Are you okay?"
"Ah—no, no, I'm fine. Just slipped. But… what you said just now. Is it true?"
Uy Phong's face flushed hot, his grip on the phone white-knuckled."I think… yeah. I want to try again."
"That's… that's wonderful—"
"But only if you help me. There's a condition."
"Of course, anything! Court time? Equipment?" His grandfather's voice rushed, almost giddy.
"No. Just… don't tell my parents."
Silence. Then, softer, his grandfather's voice cracked, trembling."You're right… If they find out, it'll only hurt you. Leave this to me."
Relief flooded Uy Phong's chest. "Really? That'd be amazing."
"Hah. Don't worry, I'll cover for you. Just keep your grades steady so they don't suspect."
"Yes, sir. Thanks, Grandpa."
The call ended, but the warmth in his chest lingered. He stared at the name "Grandpa" glowing on his screen, smiling to himself before falling back against the bed.
"Not bad," he whispered, covering his eyes with one hand. "Not bad at all. Wonder what he's doing right now…"
Sleep crept in, soft and steady.
Meanwhile, An Phong had just walked Vy home and returned to his own house.
"I'm back!" he called out.
No answer. Strange—his mom was usually home by now, unless she'd taken a night shift.
He slipped off his shoes and stepped inside. The living room was empty, the staircase dark. Frowning, he started toward his room—until a faint sound drifted from the kitchen.
His face lit up. Dropping his bag onto the couch, he hurried forward."Mom, I was thinking about signing up for—"
He froze.
At the kitchen doorway, his smile collapsed.
"…Mom? Why is Grandpa here?"
Sitting across from his mother was an old man, hair silver but posture sharp as steel. His hand rested on the wooden table, a teacup tilting precariously. His mother's lips trembled, forcing a fragile smile.
Before An Phong could breathe, a deep, gravelly chuckle rolled across the room, slicing through the air like a knife.
"What's wrong? Can't a grandfather come visit his only grandson?"
The words sounded tender, but the weight behind them made An Phong's blood run cold. He stood frozen, pale. Because he knew.
Whenever his grandfather appeared with that smile… it was never just a visit.