No sooner had Hiền stretched out on the bed than a knock rattled the door.
"Hey, Hiền, you're home already? Glad you're out!" chirped An, the neighbor kid.
Hiền just stared at him. Something about the boy's face today felt oddly familiar, like he'd seen it somewhere else.
"Hiền!"
"Huh?" Hiền snapped back when the kid shook him hard.
"Is… uh… Dung home?"
"No." Hiền turned to head inside.
"Come on, why so sour? You just got out! I'm free today, let me hang out a bit, shoot the breeze."
Hiền eyed the neighbor, baffled by his cheer, but still let him in. At the table, An plopped down a bag of fruit and sighed.
"Hard to catch Dung these days. Ever since you got locked up, I haven't seen him set foot back here."
"Who told you I got arrested? Was it Dung?"
"No need. I'm running errands at the district police station now."
"You?"
"Yep!" An beamed. "All thanks to—"
"Thanks to Dung, right?" Hiền cut him off.
"Right. That's why I bought some fruit to thank him." He pointed at the bag.
"So what'd you trade him for that job?"
"Nothing at all," An blinked, surprised. "Why? You two fighting or something? Every time I mention Dung you get all riled up."
"I'm warning you. Dung never gives anyone something for nothing."
"See? You are mad at him! But I've seen you two cooking together, eating together—looked real happy. And Dung, he really takes care of you!"
Hiền gave a scornful laugh. "Yeah. Takes care of me straight to the grave."
An's smile faltered; still, he tried to defend his idol.
"But at least he got you out quick. Your case wasn't exactly small potatoes."
Hiền stayed silent. An went on:
"You know, everyone around here thinks you two are real brothers. Living together, looking after each other… I admire that so much."
Hiền's eyes drifted across the room. Pots and pans still sat there, the same ones he used to cook meals for them both. Proof of a bond that once tied him and Dung close. Once.
"Sounds like you worship Dung. But do you know the rumors about him?" Hiền asked.
"Plenty—so many I don't know which to believe. That's why I trust what I see with my own eyes."
"And what do you see?"
"That he's gutsy. A stand-up guy."
Hiền set a firm hand on An's shoulder. "One thing the rumors got right—Dung can't be trusted."
An sighed. "I don't know what went down between you two, but having someone like him as an older brother? That's a blessing. Even if he's a bad guy, he's got the guts to protect his own."
Hiền opened his mouth to argue, but froze when An added, "I wanna be tough like Dung too, so I can protect my sister."
"You got a sister? Never seen her."
"She doesn't live with me."
"Then… better keep her outta Dung's sight."
"Hiền, you're cruel! Anyway, you better watch yourself. Stop getting mixed up in stuff that'll wreck you. Everyone I've seen locked up for protests… none of them had it easy after."
Hiền stayed quiet, gaze drifting out the window. Night had fallen, houses around lit up, families gathering around dinner. "If I had a family like that, would I still dare to fight?" he wondered.
Seeing Hiền lost in thought, An excused himself and left. Hiền walked him out, then turned back to face the emptiness of the house. Once again, the question gnawed at him: Why do I even want to fight?
If his mother hadn't been poor and desperate, sending him to Sister Xuân's orphanage, he'd never have witnessed the ugliness festering inside "charity." If he hadn't left that orphanage, he wouldn't have known the shame of his mother's work—seeing her body sold off as a plaything for rich men. At sixteen, sitting alone at a table, Hiền began to burn with the urge to fight back against a rotten world.
And if, after leaving his mother behind, starting his life on the streets, he hadn't run into Dung again… would he even have had the peace to keep studying, to chase those ideals of resistance? Truth was, Dung once showed up in his life like some savior—too good for the scoundrel he really was. A roof over Hiền's head, a job lined up, no demands for payment—only chores, sweeping, cooking, brewing tea.
"Why did Dung play the good guy for all these years?" Hiền asked himself. "Why didn't I ever question it before?"
.
"Dad, are you even listening?"
Ms. Tư dragged her chair right into his line of sight. In his lavish office, Mr. Liễu snuffed out his cigarette and eyed his daughter with amused delight.
"You sore again 'cause Dung hangs around our Út and not you?"
"Dad, how could you trust someone like Dung with your precious son?"
Mr. Liễu chuckled. "Well, look at you—my daughter actually worrying about her baby brother now."
"Mr. Liễu, I'm dead serious about your precious son."
He cleared his throat, straightened his collar as if for show. "Yes ma'am, I'm listening."
"Aren't you worried that if Út sticks to Dung, he'll pick up every rotten habit that street thug's got? Anyone can see Dung's milking him for all he's worth."
"I'm paying Dung to risk his neck for my son. That's the deal. And besides, Út's a man. Let him pick up a few tricks of the world—won't kill him."
"Dad…"
"The real headache would be Dung shadowing my daughter instead."
"I'm not that easy to fool. Worry about your son. He's already halfway seduced—"
"Halfway to what?"
Ms.Tư hesitated, not daring to voice her suspicion. She swerved:
"Halfway to useless. A man who lets others wipe his nose for him looks pathetic. Dad, you've got to keep an eye on them both."
Mr. Liễu studied her for a long beat, then said, "Fine. I've got something serious to say to you, too. It's time you became a woman of the family."
She bristled. "Dad, we're talking about Út. Why drag—"
He patted her shoulder, soothing. "I mean it's time you take care of your brother."
She blinked.
"Can you do that?" he asked.
"Yes," she nodded firmly.
"And… whether you like it or not, it's time you got married."
"Dad—"
"All these years I let you have your freedom because I trusted you'd pick what's best for yourself. Now it's time to find a real anchor for your future."
"Why now?"
"Because now is when. The city's spinning out of control. Once the wedding's done, you leave the country right away."
"Do I really have to go?"
Mr. Liễu sighed, nodded. "If this land never changes, we'll come back one day. Right now, I just worry about Út. If he goes back to the seminary alone…"
"You don't want him to become a priest, do you?"
Mr. Liễu gave a thin smile. "Not about wanting or not. Just that these days, nothing feels safe. I'd rather have him with us. But your grandmother—nobody dares cross her."
"So that's why you let Út hang out with Dung—to learn a few bad habits?"
Mr. Liễu burst out laughing. "Sharp tongue, this one."
"But Dung's a double-edged blade, Dad." Ms. Tư still pressed her point.
"Exactly. That's why I'm sending you to watch over him. Watch your brother, and get married. Deal?"
"But I get to choose my own husband. You can't force that on me."
Mr. Liễu ruffled her hair. "If only your mother and your sister - Ba, had your fire, they wouldn't suffer so much. Women who just swallow everything in silence… boring."