"Seen Út anywhere?" Dung grabbed a scrawny kid with a three-tuft haircut by the shoulder.
"No, sir."
"Then why the hell aren't you in class? Running wild out here instead?"
"Nobody's teaching us…" the boy mumbled, his voice drowned in the racket of kids yelling and laughing all around.
"What?" Dung barked, voice booming. "Quiet down, all of you! Why isn't anyone in class?"
"No sight of Hiền."
"No teacher…"
The jumble of answers only made less sense. Dung turned back to the three-tuft haircut kid.
"Hiền's not here so we don't have class," the kid shouted, up on his toes to be heard.
"Oh, Hiền is at..." Dung trailed off, clicking his tongue, fed up with the chaos. "All of you, shut it and march into class, now!"
At his order, the herd of brats instantly froze and scrambled back inside. They knew if they dragged their feet, the Big Bad Boss would hand out spankings without mercy. Dung's hawk eyes swept over the children, catching every twitch. One kid, knowing his temper all too well, slunk up and handed over the toy clutched in his hands.
"Where'd you get this?" Dung asked.
"Mr. Út gave it to us," little Lém confessed, then quickly added, "He gave Liên one too, and Mén, and Tám…"
Dung followed her pointing finger and spotted the brand-new toys scattered in the others' hands. He sighed.
"Then where's Út now?"
The girl shook her head.
"Any of you seen him?"
"No, sir."
"Yes!"
"Over here!"
The babble of voices and fingers pointing every which way only tangled Dung further. Then he caught sight of one kid gesturing toward the staircase. His gut twisted—Little Hunch wasn't around. He strode off toward the stairs, shouting over his shoulder:
"Open your notebooks and start copying. If I come back and you're not done, you're getting it, clear?"
"Yes, sir!" the kids chorused, one after another.
Dung climbed the stairs, his stride quick down the hall before slowing at the door to Little Hunch's room. He let out a breath of relief—there was the one he'd been hunting.
Inside, Đông Anh sat happily on the floor, showing the boy how to fiddle with the shiny new toys scattered all over.
"Like them?" Đông Anh asked, beaming, waiting for a smile.
"All for me?" Little Hunch asked.
That made Đông Anh pause. "Sure, they can all be yours, Phong, but you gotta share with the other kids."
Little Hunch pulled his hands back, shaking his head.
"Why not? If you share, the others will like you more," Đông Anh said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Don't you want your friends to like you?" The boy nodded. "Then share with them, okay?"
"No. Mine alone!"
Đông Anh laughed. "You silly kid, still a child at heart."
Feeling that tender hand on his head, the boy pressed on: "Mr. Út, you love only me, right?"
"Of course I do," Đông Anh answered cheerfully, without a second thought.
"And Dung—he loves only me too, right?"
"Of course…"
Đông Anh didn't finish. The door burst open as Dung cut in.
"Phong, get your ass back to class. Now!"
"No! Don't wanna!"
"Move it!" Dung snapped.
"Don't want to!" Little Hunch scrunched up his face, knocking the toys to the floor.
"Phong, be good, I'll love..."
"Don't sweet-talk him!" Dung barked, yanking Đông Anh behind him. "Skip class, fine—stay in here alone. But you don't touch a single toy."
"Dung…" Đông Anh tried to tug his arm back.
"You—come down with me. Who told you to play big brother up here?" Dung seized his hand and dragged him to the door.
"Dung, why are you so harsh with him? I just got him to open up, and you had to stomp in and wreck it!"
"Who asked you to? Next time, don't you dare meet that kid alone. The brats here aren't like your spoiled cousins back home—they're a hell of a lot scarier."
"My God, say things like that and who'd ever adopt them?"
Dung locked eyes with Đông Anh. "Because I care about you, Út. That's why I'm being straight with you. And another thing—stop buying them gifts. Don't let them like you just because of candy and toys you bring."
Đông Anh shot Dung a pouty look. "That's why I only buy toys for the kids, never for you!"
"Huh?" Dung blinked, then flicked his finger against Đông Anh's forehead. "Cut the nonsense. I'm dead serious here. If you let those kids get attached, you're in trouble. The kind of 'love' they have is dangerous. So you just… love me. That's enough." He leaned in, whispering the last words in Đông Anh's ear.
"So it's you, huh? You're the one teaching Little Hunch to be selfish—demanding love all to himself!"
"Kid's nature is God-given. Nobody taught him that. And hell, who really shares when it comes to love?"
With that, Dung slipped an arm around Đông Anh's waist, pulling him close, and planted a deep kiss on his cheek.
"Tell me, Út—would you share kisses like this with anyone else?" His mouth slid onto Đông Anh's lips.
Flushed, Đông Anh shoved lightly at Dung's stomach. "Cut it out! Someone'll see!" He darted down the stairs.
"Head straight to class, no wandering off," Dung called after him.
Then his eyes flicked back to the half-open door of Little Hunch's room.
Đông Anh splashed handfuls of cold water over his face, hoping to wash away the exhaustion. Three hours felt like a full day for Đông Anh, who had to strain his voice and keep his eyes peeled to look after the kids at the orphanage—teaching them, feeding them, and putting them to bed. Even Dung, seasoned brawler that he was, had collapsed the moment he hit the mattress.
Yawning, Đông Anh studied his own worn-out reflection. What he longed for now was something—someone—to lean on. It was then that Dung's figure lying on the bed appeared in his mind. Đông Anh smiled softly, muttering to himself, "Time to sleep."
But as soon as he stepped out of the washroom, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Little Hunch stood there in the half-dark, his odd little face enough to raise gooseflesh.
"Phong, what are you doing here? Why aren't you asleep?"
The boy shook his head, took Đông Anh's hand and whispered: "I want Dung to put me to sleep."
"Put you to sleep?" Đông Anh blinked. Couldn't imagine Dung babying the kid like that.
"Dung puts me to sleep." The boy tugged harder, insistent.
"Come on… tonight you sleep on your own. He's already out cold."
"No. Put me to sleep, put me to sleep…"
Half-asleep himself, Đông Anh snapped: "Phong, quit it and go to bed!"
He pushed the boy toward the door, but the kid writhed and cried louder: "Dung! Dung! I wanna sleep with Dung!"
Afraid the noise would wake the other kids, Đông Anh caved. "Fine, fine. Stop yelling—I'll take you to him."
At once, the boy's sulky face flipped into a grin. He scrambled onto the bed, arms and legs flailing with glee.
"Phong, lie still and sleep," Đông Anh scolded gently, then climbed in himself.
Wedged between them, the boy grew suddenly docile, shut his eyes, and lay quiet. Soon the room melted into stillness. Đông Anh drifted too, half-dreaming: sunlight beating through curtains, the snores beside him, the classroom and bowls of rice blurring into his sleep. And somewhere, Dung's voice called: "Út… Út…" So tender, so near.
Đông Anh stirred, eyes fluttering open—only to see a scene that made him doubt his own senses. Little Hunch's lips pressed against Dung's. Shock ripped him awake. In a flash, Đông Anh lunged, yanking the boy off with brute force.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared, eyes blazing.
The fury jolted Dung upright, groggy. "What's going on?"
"This kid—he…" Đông Anh choked on rage, the image of that kiss still stamped into his mind.
Dung touched his own lips, puzzled. "Wasn't that you?" he asked, leaning toward Đông Anh.
Before he could answer, Little Hunch clung back to Dung, crying, "Dung is mine!"
Instinctively, Đông Anh tore him away. "Yours? Where'd you learn such crazy talk? I forbid it—"
He didn't finish. The boy lunged, teeth sinking into Đông Anh's arm.
Dung reacted fast—one hand gripping the collar, the other prying open the kid's jaws, hauling him off. He cursed the boy roundly, but Đông Anh no longer heard. His eyes were fixated on the bloody bite on his arm. He stood dazed until Dung shoved the kid out the door.
"Út, let me see!" Dung crouched, stricken at the wound. "Damn it, didn't I warn you, stay clear of that little brat?"
He grabbed the first-aid kit from the shelf. "If Mr. and Mrs. Liễu see this, they'll have my head. Their golden boy, all chewed up…"
Noticing Đông Anh's silence, Dung stopped. "What's wrong with you?"
"Why would a child do that? He's just a kid—how dare he…" Đông Anh's eyes flicked, unbidden, to Dung's lips.
"You jealous?" Dung teased, leaning in.
"Don't mock me!" Đông Anh jerked his hand away.
"Hold still—I'm not done." Dung caught it back, bandaging carefully. "I told you, the way these kids love is twisted. The less they have, the crazier they crave it."
"And you—don't you fear living among them?"
"I grew up here. My love's even wilder than theirs. The one who should be afraid… is you, Út."
Suddenly, Dung bent and nipped the freshly bandaged arm. Đông Anh gasped, shoving at his head, but Dung caught his wrist.
"Trying to grab me by the hair tonight?" Dung grinned, kissing the hand above him. "Do you know how fiery you looked, jealous like that? Like you could tear apart anyone who touched me." His laugh brimmed with delight.
Đông Anh stared at the bite on his arm, muttering: "When he bit me, I wanted to rip his hair out. I wanted to hit him."
"Then why didn't you? He deserved it."
Đông Anh rose, moved to the window, and flung the curtain wide. His eyes drifted far away.
"Never thought I'd come to wanting to strike a child—just because of love and hate inside me."
Dung gave a dry chuckle, stepping up behind him. "You've changed, Út."
"That's not a good thing, is it?"
From behind, Dung wrapped him close. "Who cares about good or bad? Love is instinct. If it hurts, strike back."
Đông Anh played with Dung's fingers, whispering heavy: "Do that too much, you become bad. And the bad don't get to return to the seminary…"
.
Six o'clock sharp. Liberty wouldn't come alive for hours yet, so Dung took his sweet time in the bathroom, half-naked in front of the mirror. He whistled a jaunty tune, straight razor in hand, turning his head left, then right, carefully inspecting every inch of his skin.
"Dung Tây, you handsome devil," he murmured, admiring himself.
Then came the sound of soft footsteps on the iron stairs. Dung's lips curled: "Showing up early, huh? Guess Út wants to surprise me." He glanced down at his towel-wrapped waist. "Better leave it like this, give him a real surprise."
Dung splashed his face, reached for the door handle then froze. A chill crawled up his neck. He tilted his head, listening. Those steps… too light, too cautious. Not a lover creeping in. More like… an intruder. The knob twisted once. Twice. A third time. Whoever was out there didn't even know the door wasn't locked.
"Damn it," Dung muttered. "Not my Út."
And just like that, he remembered—he'd left every last piece of clothing outside. If someone was breaking in, he'd be greeting them bare-ass under a towel. Hell of a way to host an intruder!