The morning sky was a dull gray, heavy with the promise of rain. Thin sheets of mist rolled across the narrow streets, clinging to the old bricks of the buildings. Hùng walked slowly down the alley, his hands buried deep in the pockets of Tấn’s worn jacket. He barely noticed the cold; his mind was elsewhere, consumed by the thoughts that had plagued him since the day he watched Thu through the café window.
She had looked different—older, yes, but it wasn’t just time that had changed her. There was something in the way she moved, in the tired lines etched into her face, that stirred conflicting emotions inside him. Part of him, the part that still remembered her as the woman he loved, felt a pang of sympathy. But that part was quickly silenced by the seething rage that bubbled just beneath the surface.
"She's not the same," Hùng muttered to himself, his breath coming out in white puffs in the chilly air. "But neither am I."
He reached the small garage at the end of the street and pushed the door open with a creak. Inside, the space was dimly lit, the smell of motor oil and grease heavy in the air. The familiar sounds of the city faded into the background as Hùng closed the door behind him, sealing himself off from the world outside. This was his sanctuary now, the place where he could think, plan, and, for a moment, find silence from the noise of his own mind.
---
**A Storm Approaching**
The sound of raindrops tapping against the windows echoed in the garage as Hùng sat at the small wooden table in the corner. He stared at the newspaper spread out before him, but the words blurred together, meaningless. His thoughts were elsewhere, swirling like the storm clouds gathering outside. He was restless, the stillness before the storm pressing down on him, urging him to act.
But he couldn’t rush this. He had learned patience in his new life, a skill he hadn’t possessed before. Back when he was Hùng, the real Hùng, he had been quick to trust, quick to act—too quick. And it had cost him everything.
Now, in Tấn’s body, he had the luxury of time. Time to plan, time to watch, time to make sure that when he finally struck, it would be with precision. He couldn’t afford mistakes.
His mind drifted to Quân again. The man had become a symbol of everything that had gone wrong, the embodiment of betrayal. Hùng thought of the note he had left on Quân’s desk. The message had been simple, almost cryptic: "Remember me?" But it was enough. It would gnaw at Quân’s mind, make him question everything. And that was exactly what Hùng wanted.
"Let him wonder," Hùng thought, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let him fear the shadows."
---
**A Conversation with Shadows**
The rain had turned heavier by late afternoon, pounding against the tin roof of the garage in a steady rhythm. Hùng sat alone at the table, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. He didn’t mind the darkness. In fact, he welcomed it. The shadows were familiar now, a reminder that he no longer existed in the bright, open world he had once inhabited. He was something else now, something that moved in the spaces between.
His phone buzzed on the table, cutting through the silence. It was a message from Vinh.
*“Meet tonight. Usual place.”*
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Hùng frowned slightly. Vinh rarely sent messages like that, and it was always for a reason. He glanced at the clock—7:00 PM. The sky outside had already darkened, and the rain showed no sign of stopping.
He stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, and headed out into the night.
---
**The Usual Place**
The "usual place" was an old, rundown bar on the edge of the city, a place where people went to disappear, to blend into the shadows like ghosts. Hùng had been there a handful of times, always meeting with Vinh under the cover of night. The bartender never asked questions, and the patrons kept to themselves. It was perfect.
The rain had let up slightly by the time Hùng reached the bar, though the streets were still slick and gleaming under the dim streetlights. He pushed open the door, greeted by the warm, stale air inside. The bar was almost empty, save for a few men hunched over their drinks, lost in their own worlds.
Vinh was sitting at a table in the back, as usual, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His sharp eyes tracked Hùng’s approach, and he nodded once in acknowledgment.
“You’re late,” Vinh said, his voice low but cutting through the murmur of the bar.
“I wasn’t aware there was a schedule,” Hùng replied, sitting down across from him.
Vinh chuckled, taking a long drag from his cigarette before leaning back in his chair. “Fair enough. But I thought you’d want to hear what I found.”
Hùng leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Go on.”
“I dug into Quân, like you asked,” Vinh began, blowing a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. “He’s got a lot of enemies, as you can imagine. But what’s interesting is how careful he’s been lately. Seems like someone’s got him spooked.”
Hùng didn’t respond, but his heart quickened slightly. The note. It was already working.
Vinh continued, oblivious to Hùng’s thoughts. “Word is he’s been asking around, looking for security upgrades, extra protection. He’s even thinking about leaving the city for a while.”
Hùng’s jaw tightened. That wasn’t part of the plan. He needed Quân here, where he could watch him, control the situation. If Quân left…
“He won’t leave,” Hùng said, his voice calm but firm. “Not yet.”
Vinh raised an eyebrow. “You sound pretty sure of that.”
Hùng met his gaze. “I am.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Vinh studied Hùng carefully, as if trying to piece together the puzzle of the man sitting before him.
“You’ve got a personal stake in this,” Vinh said finally, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a tray. It wasn’t a question.
Hùng didn’t flinch. “I do.”
Vinh nodded slowly, as if confirming something he had suspected all along. “Well, whatever it is, just make sure you don’t lose your head. Guys like Quân… they’ve got a way of turning things around on you if you’re not careful.”
“I’ll be careful,” Hùng replied, standing up. “But thanks for the concern.”
Vinh smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You know where to find me if you need more.”
Hùng nodded once before turning and walking out into the rain-soaked night.
---
**The Weight of Memories**
As Hùng walked back to the garage, the rain began to fall harder, soaking through his jacket. The cold didn’t bother him, but the weight of everything he had learned tonight pressed down on him. Quân was scared, and that was good. Fear made people vulnerable. But if Quân left the city, it would complicate things. Hùng needed to be patient, to keep playing the long game, but part of him—the part that still burned with anger—wanted to act now.
His thoughts drifted back to Thu. He hadn’t told Vinh about her. She was a separate issue, a more complicated one. Confronting Quân would be straightforward—Quân was an enemy, and Hùng knew how to deal with enemies. But Thu? She was different. She wasn’t just a traitor. She had once been the woman he loved, the mother of his child.
Hùng clenched his fists as he walked, the rain dripping down his face. He couldn’t afford to be weak, not now. But the memories of their life together kept creeping back, uninvited. He remembered the way she used to laugh, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled at him. He remembered the nights they spent talking about their future, the dreams they had shared.
All lies.
He shook his head, trying to push the memories away. They didn’t matter anymore. Thu wasn’t the woman he had loved. She was someone else now, just like he was. And when the time came, he would deal with her too.
The rain continued to fall as Hùng reached the garage, its relentless rhythm matching the turmoil in his mind. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him and shutting out the world once again.
For now, he would wait. But the storm was coming, and when it finally broke, there would be no turning back.