An Phong hadn't even had time to react when he realized Uy Phong was standing right in front of him—face flushed an alarming shade of red. The boy's lips parted like he wanted to say something, yet no words came. The silence between them grew taut, almost suffocating, until even An Phong felt himself unsettled.
But before anything could be said, a familiar voice sliced through the tension:
"Hey, bastard! What the hell do you think you're doing to my An Phong?!"
Vy stormed in like a hurricane. Without waiting for an answer, she shoved Uy Phong hard to the side. The sudden force made him stumble back several steps—but strangely, he didn't retaliate.
Vy froze. The cold, arrogant boy who usually never let anyone get the better of him now stood with his head bowed, ears burning red, his whole face blazing like fire. He should have snapped back, thrown some biting remark, something. But instead, Uy Phong remained silent.
In that instant, Vy's anger faltered, replaced by an unfamiliar flicker of worry. She frowned, hand hesitating toward his forehead.
"Hey… you okay? Are you sick? You feel feverish or something?"
But before her fingers could reach him, Uy Phong jerked back, panic flashing in his dark eyes. Then, without a word, he spun on his heel and bolted out of the classroom, leaving chaos in his wake.
"…Huh?" Vy blinked, stunned.
An Phong was equally speechless. Since the day Uy Phong had joined their class, he had never once seen the boy behave like this. What in the world had just happened?
His gaze fell unconsciously to the desk. Lying there, abandoned, was Uy Phong's backpack.
***
No one knew how, but Uy Phong managed to drag himself home. The moment his door slammed shut, he collapsed face-first into bed, burying himself into the pillow. His head felt like a boiling hotpot spilling over, thoughts tangling into a mess he couldn't sort out.
He should have confronted An Phong directly, demanded answers. But instead, all those ridiculous things Thien Hung had said earlier came flooding back at the worst possible time. The result—he'd panicked, lost all composure, and run away.
Like a coward.
Pathetic… Uy Phong rolled back and forth across the mattress like a fish out of water, groaning. Finally, he lay flat, one arm over his forehead. The warmth of his own palm startled him.
"Shit… Am I sick? Why am I this hot?"
Sweat trickled at his temple. He jolted upright, reaching for his bag to grab medicine—but froze.
"…Wait. Where the hell is my backpack?"
His body went rigid. A few heartbeats later, the memory hit him like a slap: his bag… was still sitting on An Phong's desk. He'd stormed out without it.
Perfect. His phone, the keys to the medicine cabinet—everything was inside. No way to call anyone. No one knew where he was or what condition he was in.
With a long, defeated sigh, Uy Phong flopped back onto the bed.
"…I'm seriously losing it."
***
Back in the classroom, the storm had finally quieted. Students drifted back to their seats. Vy exhaled, guilt and worry softening her voice.
"Hey… you think he's okay? His face was burning earlier. What if he's sick? If I'd known, I wouldn't have shoved him so hard."
"It's not because of you," An Phong replied, voice lower than usual. "He probably just isn't feeling well."
But even as he said it, unease gnawed at him. That flush on Uy Phong's face hadn't looked like a fever. He'd seemed perfectly fine—until their eyes had met.
Was it really sudden illness? Or… something else?
"Uh, hey—whose backpack is that?" Vy pointed toward the black bag resting on An Phong's desk.
"His," An Phong answered.
"What? So he ran off and left it behind? What do we do now?"
"Leave it. He's probably at the basketball clubroom. He'll come back for it."
Vy nodded and let it drop. But two full periods passed, the final bell rang, and the bag still sat there like some forsaken orphan.
An Phong lingered, staring at it. Chairs scraped, footsteps faded as classmates filed out, yet the weight in his chest only grew heavier.
Where had Uy Phong gone? Why hadn't he come back?
At length, he drew in a slow breath. His hand reached out, fingers curling around the strap.
"…Fine. I'll return it to him myself."
Besides… he had questions that needed answers.
Telling Vy to head home first, An Phong slung the bag over his shoulder and went straight to the basketball club area. But when he arrived, only a few students were practicing on court. No sign of Uy Phong.
Thien Hung, shooting hoops with Hai Minh, spotted him.
"Oh! You're in the same class as Uy Phong, right?"
"Yeah," An Phong nodded politely. "Is he here?"
Thien Hung squinted, thinking.
"Huh, nah. He disappeared after second period. Why, what's up?"
"I was going to return his backpack. He forgot it."
"No kidding? That guy—so careless all of a sudden? Well, why don't you just call him?"
An Phong hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, admitted:
"…I don't have his number."
"Oh, right. Hold on, I'll try."
Thien Hung whipped out his phone, dialed. But the two boys stiffened when a ringtone buzzed—not from across the court, but from the very backpack in An Phong's hands.
They exchanged a look. Slowly, An Phong unzipped the bag. Inside, Uy Phong's phone vibrated away.
Thien Hung let out a strained laugh.
"Great. Guess he won't be getting this back until tomorrow."
An Phong said nothing for a long moment. His grip on the strap tightened. Finally, his voice came low and firm:
"Do you… know his home address?"
Surprise flickered across Thien Hung's face.
"Huh? Uh, no, not off the top of my head. But why the rush? It's just a bag. He'll grab it tomorrow."
An Phong's eyes stayed flat, unreadable—but his tone brooked no refusal.
"I need to talk to him."
"…Right. Wait here."
Suddenly remembering something, Thien Hung dashed off toward the club office, where An Thu, Ngo Huy, and Ho Nhu were hanging out. A minute later, he returned clutching a thick binder.
"Here—we keep member records. His address should be in here somewhere."
He flipped through, scanning quickly. A moment later, he grinned.
"Got it!"
An Phong stepped closer, eyes landing on the neat row of text beneath the name Hoang Uy Phong. Without hesitation, he snapped a photo with his phone.
"Thanks."
"No problem. And hey, come hang out at the club sometime, yeah?"
"Mm."
That was all. With a brief wave, An Phong turned and strode away, the backpack heavy in his grip.