The mechanical heart still beat steadily in his chest. "Thump... thud... thump..." the emotionless sound of metal. Yet, somewhere amidst that electrical rhythm, another beat began to intercede, slower, more elusive, profoundly human.
The laboratory lights faded, then dissolved, giving way to a warm, bright space. The wind rustled through, carrying the scent of rain and milk flowers.
The sound of motorbikes, the cries of night vendors, and... someone's laughter, as clear as the first drop of morning dew.
"What are you standing there gaping at? The rain will splash onto your phone now."
The voice belonged to Mai. Trung turned. She stood in the small street by the river, beneath the water soaked Terminalia tree canopy, holding a cup of iced milk coffee, wearing a translucent raincoat, her hair wet and stuck to her neck.
The yellow streetlights shone on her face, her eyes curved, playful.
"I'm not afraid of damaging my phone," Trung replied, half jokingly.
"Then what are you afraid of damaging?"
"Damaging you."
Mai burst out laughing, covering her mouth.
"You always say such embarrassing things."
"Because I really love you, that's why."
She tilted her head, glancing at him through the drizzle: "How can you love me yet stand in the rain waiting for me like this? If you get sick tomorrow, who will take care of you?"
"You will, of course."
"Dream on, General, I'll take care of myself first."
Trung smiled, stepping closer, holding out his hand. "Let me share a corner of your raincoat, let's call it sharing the load."
"No. You're taller, you should be sheltering me."
"But the raincoat is tiny; covering you is a miracle already."
"Then you just lean down."
He actually leaned down. She shifted closer. They shared the thin raincoat, shoulder touching shoulder, heart touching heart. The rain pattered on the plastic hood, her warmth spreading to him.
"Do you know..." Mai whispered. "I hate the rain."
"Then why are you out here?"
"Because of you."
"Because of me?"
"Yeah. I was afraid you'd wait too long and get completely soaked."
She looked up, smiling at him, a tiny smile enough to chase away the entire rainstorm. Trung looked into those eyes, feeling as if time had stopped.
The scene changed. This time, they were sitting in a small café named Lưu Niệm (Souvenir), at a corner of Nguyễn Thông street, on a late Saturday afternoon in September.
Mai rested her chin on her hand, her hair tied up, wearing a white T-shirt, frowning and teasing:
"Hey, if I get old and ugly later, will you still love me?"
"I'll love your wrinkles too."
"That sounds overly dramatic, like something from a Korean drama."
"Well, my love for you isn't an American movie either."
She laughed, lightly kicking his foot under the table. "If you keep saying sweet things like that, I might get addicted."
"Then get addicted to me, I'll let you be addicted for life."
"I wouldn't dare, I'd probably suffer if I were addicted to you."
"Why?"
"Because you're so forgetful, always staring blankly at the rain."
"I stare at the rain to remember you."
"Stop it, that sounds like something from a teenage romance novel." She said, but her eyes were sparkling.
Trung smiled, then fell silent. He drew the words Mãi Mãi (Forever) on the condensation.covered table. Mai looked at it, a faint smile playing on her lips:
"Do you know how long 'forever' is?"
"It's as long as I remember you."
"Then you must remember me forever."
"I promise."
That night, they sat on the roof of their old boarding house, looking out at the distance, where the Saigon lights glittered like an artificial galaxy. Mai rested her head on Trung's shoulder, her voice small like the wind:
"Trung..."
"Yes, my love?"
"If one day, the world changes, will you still recognize me?"
"Easy. You always pout when you're angry, you always say the opposite when you care, and you always pretend to be strong when you're scared."
"You remember all that?"
"I know every tiny frown on your face."
"What if... I'm not myself anymore?"
"I'll still look for you."
"If I'm only a voice?"
"I'll still listen."
"If only a memory?"
"I'll still love you."
Mai looked up, smiling softly. "Silver tongue. But, I trust you."
"Trust what?"
"Trust that you will never let me disappear."
The memory shifted its tone. It was Mai's own voice, but echoing from afar, mixed between the present and the past:
"Do you remember... the time I got soaked in the rain, you secretly washed my dress for me but ruined the one I loved..."
"I remember..."
"The time I had a fever, you stayed up all night... and burned the porridge twice..."
"I remember..."
"The time I told you not to go work far away, you smiled, saying it was just for a few months..."
"I remember..."
"But you left... and I never saw you again."
The sound faded, dissolving into the steady thud of the machine. Trung opened his eyes. His tears were no longer blood, but a clear liquid, reflecting a faint blue light. He looked around.
It was still the cold room. But in his mind, the rain, the smile, the eyes everything was intact.
"Mai..." he called softly. "You are right. Even if you're gone... I still recognize you."
On the metal partition, a blue light flickered softly. A very small female voice, trembling like an electrical pulse, replied:
"I never went anywhere... Trung."
Trung smiled. A tired but warm smile.
He leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes. In that darkness, he saw himself sitting next to her again, hand in hand, listening to the rain tapping on the eaves.
"Hey..."
"Hmm?"
"If later... no matter how cold the world gets, you must keep a warm place for me, okay?"
"I promise."
Her voice was clear, gently fading, like the last breath of the day. But Trung kept smiling.
"I'm still keeping it here... Mai."
His hand rested on his chest, where the steel heart beat steadily, but inside, there was another rhythm, very faint, very real. The rhythm of a human heart.