Seeing An Phong staggering under Uy Phong's collapsing weight, Mr.Tri rushed over, slipping an arm behind the boy's back.
"Let me help you get him downstairs. You all keep practicing—I'll be right back!"
The three of them struggled down to the lobby, half-carrying Uy Phong between them. Outside, a yellow taxi was already idling at the curb as if it had been waiting for this very moment. Mr.Tri sighed with relief and quickly helped An Phong haul Uy Phong into the back seat.
"Good grief, how much rice does this kid eat? He weighs a ton!" Mr.Tri muttered, sweat dripping from his brow.
At last, they managed to squeeze the limp boy into the seat. Closing the door with a heavy exhale, Mr.Tri gave a nod.
"Thanks, I'll take it from here," An Phong bowed quickly.
"Alright. Be careful. Update me in the group chat."
"Yes, sir."
Click. An Phong slipped into the seat beside Uy Phong. The taxi engine roared to life and pulled away. Mr.Tri stood watching until the car disappeared into the stream of traffic, then turned back inside.
Inside the taxi, silence reigned save for the steady hum of the engine and the blur of streetlights flashing through the windows. An Phong steadied Uy Phong's body upright, resting his head against his own shoulder. Once he found a balance, he let out a tired breath but never loosened his hold.
The driver glanced at the rearview mirror.
"Where to, kid?"
"Here, please." An Phong held up his phone screen.
"Alright."
Tucking the phone away, he reached out to feel Uy Phong's forehead. Burning. At the touch, Uy Phong shivered, brows knitting, a hoarse groan slipping through his lips. That broad frame squirmed weakly, no different from a feverish child fussing in his sleep.
In the dim glow painting his pale features, An Phong felt something tremble inside his chest. His gaze softened—an almost uncharacteristic tenderness flickering there—before he let out a faint, private chuckle.
He tried checking his forehead again. But this time, before he could withdraw, a hot hand shot up and seized his wrist.
Still half-dreaming, Uy Phong guided An Phong's palm down against his cheek. The fevered skin pressed tight against the cool hand, making An Phong's eyes widen.
Eyes shut, Uy Phong rubbed his face against that touch, as if chasing comfort. Then suddenly—without warning—he pressed those burning lips against An Phong's palm.
"Mmh… An… Phong…" The name broke out in a cracked whisper.
An Phong froze, stiff as stone. His pulse spiked as the fevered breath spilled across his skin. He twitched to pull back—but the grip only tightened. That fevered mouth clung harder, both frail and desperate, like a plea uttered in delirium.
Then—something wet trickled over his hand. Hot. Slick.
He jerked his eyes down.
Blood.
His mind exploded. In an instant, he cupped Uy Phong's face between both palms, lifting it. No response. The boy's eyes stayed shut, breath shallow. Then the sight hit him—nosebleed pouring fast, staining his trembling hands in scarlet.
"No… no, no, no—Uy Phong!" His voice cracked with panic.
His chest clenched, heart thundering like a war drum. Every nerve screamed: Danger! He's unconscious!
Without hesitation, An Phong snapped his head up, yelling toward the front with all his might, his voice booming through the cab:
"CHANGE DESTINATION! PLEASE, GET US TO THE HOSPITAL NOW!!"
The driver flinched, nearly swerving. A glance in the mirror showed a pale, sweat-soaked boy collapsing in his friend's arms, blood streaming from his nose onto hands that shook with terror.
"Holy—!" the man cursed, stomping the gas.
The engine roared, tires screeched. The taxi veered into the night, racing straight toward the nearest hospital.
***
An hour later—
Eyelids fluttered. Heavy. Slowly, Uy Phong blinked into a hazy white ceiling. His throat was raw, his breath rasping. After a few moments, he realized he was lying in a hospital bed, an IV line trailing from his arm. He turned his head.
Someone was there, hunched over the bedside, head buried in folded arms.
"An… Phong…?" His voice was scratchy, weak.
The figure stirred, lifting his head. For a fleeting instant, something unguarded flashed across An Phong's eyes—fear, relief, disbelief—all swallowed quickly under his usual calm. He gave a faint smile.
"You're awake."
"What… happened? Where am I?" Uy Phong glanced around until his gaze fell on the IV drip. His brows furrowed.
"You collapsed. With a nosebleed. On the way home I had to divert to the hospital."
"…I see. What did the doctor say?"
"Nothing serious. Just a viral fever. You'll be fine after a night on fluids."
Uy Phong shut his eyes, exhaling. "Mm… thanks."
"It's nothing." But An Phong's tone dropped lower. Rising to his feet, his movements sluggish, drained, he muttered: "I'll call the nurse to check on you."
And without another word, he turned and walked out, each step heavy. Behind him, Uy Phong's faint breathing filled the sterile room.
Some time later—
The door creaked open. A nurse entered alone.
"Excuse me… where's my friend? The one who went to get you?" Uy Phong rasped.
"Oh, him? I told him to splash some water on his face—he looked like he might faint himself." She smiled while swapping the IV bag.
"…I see."
She chuckled as she tucked his blanket.
"That friend of yours—he's really close to you, huh? The way he barged into the ER, yelling for a doctor right that second… Honestly, I thought someone's girlfriend had collapsed in the hallway. But no—it turned out to be a big guy twice his size slumped over his shoulder!"
Heat crept up Uy Phong's cheeks. He scoffed, then paused mid-breath.
"Wait… he barged into the ER? Shouting for doctors?"
"Of course. He looked half-crazed, screaming till we all had to rush out immediately. Everyone was busy, but we thought it was an emergency—well, it was." The nurse laughed softly. "Who would've guessed…"
Uy Phong's mind went blank. The calm, detached An Phong he knew was nothing like the frantic boy she described.
And yet… he'd lost all composure.
Because of him.