#bluecatstory
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The fortunate one
Boy met a tea kettle genie. Unfortunately, this wish-granting genie did not get to grant a single wish.
This is an AU 100% based on Neil Gaiman's The October Tale. Also, the main pairing here is GoYuu (Gojo Satoru/Itadori Yuuji), so please click back if you don’t like it.
---
“Ahh, this feels great. I haven’t got this good stretching from a longg timeee.”
Yuuji Itadori had had a fair share of abnormal things in his life. Like how he had weird tiger markings (?) on his face and genetically non-dyed pink hair. Like when he used to have a jellyfish imaginary friend. Like how his friend Megumi may or may not have the ability to summon dogs. Or, like sometimes, he could still see his family talking and laughing in the house like they never left.
Yuuji figured he might not be normal as well. But it was not really a problem for him. He had found a way to ignore it and keep on living.
So back to where he was, lying on the floor as he looked up to the white-haired man fly (?) - floating on-air, black cloak fluttering and his eyes covered with blindfolds. The only thing not depressing and stuffy about him, Yuuji thought, was his constant smirk.
“Are you a genie?” Yuuji asked out loud. He was even surprised by how straightforward he sounded.
“Hmm, what makes you think of that, sakura boy?” The strange man’s smirk widened into a mischievous grin.
“Because when I rub the kettle, you appear in a puff of smoke? Like a... tea kettle genie? Or you’re at least a magical being. You can float and see through your blindfolds, I guess. Your clothing is not similar to the genie that I know, but it may just be how people reimagine them. All in all, the highest chance is still that you’re a genie.” Yuuji rambled.
The man seemed like he was about to burst into laughter.
“Well, I was about to introduce myself as a dark overlord or some sinister being to scare you a bit. But… Ding ding ding! You got it, smart boy! This is a genie-in-the-flesh!”
The man - or genie twirled around in the air. And like a grand performer, he ended it with a cool pose like a hero in Yuuji’s shounen manga. He folded his hands and bowed deeply.
“Rejoice! Through heavens and earth, you are the fortunate one. I am the genie of the tea kettle. And I have the power to grant you three wishes. A very helpful tip: Don’t even start with the “I wish for more wishes.” That doesn’t work, and you’ll lose a wish. Ok, go!”
Yuuji just stared at the overly-enthusiastic genie.
“If you have problems thinking, I can give you some suggestions: Money? Become the richest? Find One Piece? You ever dream of flying—”
“Umm… sorry, Mr. Genie, sir.” The boy suddenly raised his voice. “It’s ok. I don’t have any wishes. I mean, thank you and all that. But I’m good.”
The white-haired being just made a face like Yuuji’s answer was the most outrageous and grabbed his left chest as if he had a heart attack. “Honey, sweetie, I’m THE genie. Just say a word, and the world will bow down to you. Come on. You definitely have something you desire. Just say whatever.”
“It’s fine, really. Just like I said. I don’t have anything.” The boy with tiger markings smiled at him. “Do you want anything to drink? Is chamomile tea fine with you? Or water? Do you get thirsty after a long time staying in that kettle?”
“Well, yes, I am thirsty, but hello? Genie? Three wishes? Anything in the world?”
“Come with me. I’ll make you some.” Yuuji’s smile grew as he led the astounded floating man.
...
“Thank you. Can you add sugar to it?”
“No problem.”
“But I don’t understand. Everyone, literally everyone I've met - they always ask for a bigger house, power, control, a big harem,... Ooh, I get one! Do you want a girl, like someone tall with big butts, to love, hold, and cherish you? Or if you bat for another team, I can definitely arrange that—”
The pink-haired boy just cracked up. Never before have the genie heard such a cute laugh.
“Sorry I’m good. And please call me Yuuji. I’m not sweetie, honey, or dear. Do you have a name, or should I just stick with Genie?”
The silence suddenly filled the room. The boy nervously reached out and waved his hands in front of our current neighborhood genie.
“Did… did I say something wrong, Mr. Genie?”
“Not wrong, very strange, though. People always want things. And you insist that you don’t. Are you absolutely sure? And you can drop Mr. Genie. Call me Gojo.”
“100%. No wishes. But if you need me to free you, I’ll make my wish right now. Uh… Is it ok, Gojo?”
“No need for that, my cute Yuuji. It’s just community service. Now, I’m not entirely convinced so! Guess who’s gonna stick with you for the time being till you say yes: Me!”
Yuuji laughed again. This time was soft but hearty laughter. If there were an award for the best smile/laugh, Yuuji would surely win, Gojo thought.
“Sure, sure. How’s the tea?”
It was the finest tea Gojo the Genie had tasted for centuries.
Like a curious kid who just got a hand on a new toy or witnessed a magic trick for the first time in his life, Yuuji’s questions came like a flood to the genie. He asked where Gojo came from, whether Genii had families, if he felt the need to please everyone, or just doing his job as a community worker who happened to grant wishes. Gojo calmly answered in his most genie way. That Yuuji should not think of him as a mortal, for he was a powerful, magical, and omnipotent being.
“Ok, but do you like pancakes? You hungry?”
Although Gojo was stuck in the kettle for you-don’t-know-how-long, he was very, very updated with the current world. So yes. Yuuji just flashed to the fridge and whipped up the batter. After a few minutes, hot buttery sweet pancakes were already presented on the plate.
Gojo poured all honey on the pancakes as he ate with delight.
He jerked up suddenly. The sugar rush must have given him an idea.
“I know! Just make a wish, and all specialties from around the world would be on this table in a snap. Each will be the most mouth-watering, scrumptious delights served on golden plates. All for you!”
“Yeah, I’m good. Actually, would you care to buy some groceries with me? There’s nothing left in the fridge for two people.”
“Urggghhh. Fine. Take me to whatevs, Good.”
“Gojo!”
Chapter 1 - End.
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The fortunate one - Chapter 2
The continuation & end to this. Thank you for reading!
Boy met a tea kettle genie. Unfortunately, this wish-granting genie did not get to grant a single wish.
This is an AU 100% based on Neil Gaiman’s The October Tale. Also, the main pairing here is GoYuu (Gojo Satoru/Itadori Yuuji), so please click back if you don’t like it.
---
It was a lovely day for a stroll through the town. The weather was cool but fair, and green leaves flurried on the trees as the gentle breeze blew by.
People were out and about, scurrying with their life. But if you pay attention to the crowd, you would see a strange pair. A pink-haired boy was walking together with a tall, lanky man. The handsome man was still young, maybe in his 20s, but his hair was white from the roots. His outfit even made it stick out more, all black with sunglasses.
They were having a somewhat lively conversation.
“So tell me more about yourself, Yuuji. I want to get to know you more.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Your likes, dislikes, dreams, family, just anything!” Gojo grinned playfully. His current master of the tea kettle, by far, was the most intriguing. He wanted to know what kind of person was Yuuji Itadori, who claimed to be perfectly content with his life.
And Yuuji, like the honest boy he was, told Gojo of his family: his parents passed away in a car accident when he was just a toddler, how his gramps raised him by himself, and he also passed away recently, having left him the house. Yuuji told him about his job: how he was a kindergarten teacher who had gained his reputation among the school for cat drawings. He told him he also taught basic drawing at the local community once a week.
“Ah, but have you ever wished to be more than that? With your physique, you would make a great athlete. Or model! I mean, look at those legs.”
Red crept up his face. Yuuji smiled sheepishly.
“Thanks… I guess. But you know, I admit there were tough times. Imagine one accidentally smuggled candies in the class, and the whole 20 would go bonkers. And the parents would just scream at you for everything. But I’m making a difference in the kids’ life. Witnessing them discovering things and eagerly telling you about them. It’s rewarding, and I feel happy every day going to work. “
Yuuji’s smile was so beaming that Gojo felt blinded by it. Ok, so scratch work. He might need to dig into other areas.
“Now it’s your turn, Mr. Cryptic genie. Tell me more about yourself.”
“Hmm, you only need to know that I’m the strongest genie that can make your wish come true. Hey, we’re here! Can we buy some cheesecake? I’ll carry the groceries for you.” Gojo pointed to the cakes on the shelves and dashed away, leaving Yuuji standing confused at the door.
Yuuji snickered at the childlike man.
---
“How about friends? Lovers? You have one?”
“Sometimes, I feel like I’m talking to a police officer who’s doing a yearly census, not a 1000-year-old genie with a desperate need to please people.” Yuuji sighed as he unpacked his grocers in the fridge.
“Excuse me, I’m only 966. And I ask because it’s my job. Kids these days…” The genie wiped the invisible tears from his eyes.
“Ok, ok. Don’t cry.” Yuuji lightly patted his head. Being with the genie for a while, he realized Gojo had a dramatic side to him that sought attention.
He told Gojo that no, he was not dating anyone now. His best friends were Megumi and Nobara. That they had stood with him since high school, through good and bad times. That Megumi was a grumpy yet caring dog whisperer with 2 adorable, fluffy, smart dogs. That Nobara was a strong-willed woman working her way through the modeling world. And they always made time to catch up on the weekend despite a hectic schedule.
“Hmm, I see.” Gojo said thoughtfully. There were really no holes in Yuuji’s life to be fulfilled by wishes. Except one.
“You know, I can see that your life is good. But you are missing someone to share that life with you. Wish, and you’ll get the perfect woman. Or man.“
“No need. I’m good.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I’ve got everything I need.” Yuuji patted the genie’s head lightly as an assurance.
“So what do I do now?”
Yuuji thought for a moment. Then he pointed to the garden.
“Can you help me tend the plants?”
“Sure! Is it your wish?” Gojo said excitedly.
“Nah. Something you can help while I make dinner.”
So Gojo tended the plants. Then, after dinner, he helped Yuuji wash the dishes. The list of things Gojo helped Yuuji gradually grew. He ran errands for him, picking up sweets and office supplies for the school. He helped Yuuji planned surprises for his class, joining his local art class as an assistant. And sometimes, when Yuuji was tired, he gave him an excellent massage with his big, strong hands.
It was not that Yuuji wanted help. But he let Gojo help.
As time passed, Gojo moved out of the spare bedroom and ended up in Yuuji’s bed.
---
They were lying on the bed, hands holding each other. Gojo silently watched Yuuji as the sunlight crept on his youthful face, aligning his parted lips. As Gojo was gently brushing a strain of hair away, his lover opened his eyes, and he smiled at him.
“Mhh…morning.”
“Morning to you, too.” The genie smiled back, lovingly.
Yuuji stared at him just as he was in a trance.
“Your eyes… so pretty.” His bright smile struck Gojo, time and time again. Yes, this was the sight he wanted to see every day. His beloved Yuuji wrapped up in his arms, smiling and looking at him and him only.
“Is this why you always wear blindfolds or sunglasses?”
“Well, a genie would say that because his magical eyes can see everything, so covering them up is a way for him to not know too much. But I would say that those baby blues are only reserved for you.”
The pink-haired boy’s laugh got muffled by Gojo’s sudden kiss.
“Hey, I’m wondering… What if it was you who were granted 3 wishes? What would you wish for?”
Gojo thought for a moment.
“Nah, I’m good.” He told Yuuji. “I’ve got everything I need.”
---
Gojo was perplexed when he met Yuuji. The boy was weird in every aspect, genetically pink haired with tiger markings, refusing his granted 3 wishes, and insisting his life was enough. For almost 1000 years as a genie, he knew people would always want something.
Gojo was not a benevolent being. As he appeared before the boy, the genie thought he would just grant him 3 wishes and take his life in return, just like his predecessors. Those greedy, low-life scums would just scream and beg him to spare them. But what was done was done. Oh, how he reveled in their blood and shrieking soul. That was why he got sealed in the fucking tea kettle. Killing too much, the gods said.
The genie chuckled.
But Yuuji, his beloved, his eternal sunshine, was different from them. From wanting to know more about him, he started to fall for the boy. His fluffy hair that never seemed to be tamed, his bright, bright smile that made Gojo’s chest hurt, his well-built body that he could not stop planting more kisses on every inch of it, and how he did everything with much passion.
Gojo loved everything about Yuuji. And now, with him in his arms, he would not let him go. No matter what.
End.
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The one that got away
Trigger Warning: depression, self-deprecation, suicide
Everything was chaos after the Shibuya incident.
Yuuji and Megumi went on hiding.
Yuuji woke up.
He had that dream again. Of a once-bustling area, incinerated in an instant. Of Nobara's bloodied face as she laid down on the floor. Of Nanamin's figure that burnt to ashes as he smiled at him for the last time.
"It's all your fault." A gleeful voice whispered into his ear. The slit on his cheek opened into a gruesome mouth.
"Next time, you should plan your death more precisely. Thanks to that, I got the chance to have some fun."
Giggles turned into laughter - constant laughter that reminded him of that night.
He slapped it with all of his force, pretending like the pain could drive that thing inside him away.
Yuuji shuffled to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He stared at the mirror.
No longer was the vibrant teenager he'd always seen. Jaded eyes that no light seemed to shine on. Dark circles from weeks of sleepless nights. Such a stranger in the mirror.
He heard a creek out in the front door. Yuuji quickly turned off the faucet that kept running all this time. He skirted outside - to be greeted by a familiar face.
"You are awake early."
The taller boy gave him a soft smile as he came over to hug Yuuji. Never before would he thought that Megumi would do this so openly and easily. But now, Yuuji was safely tucked in the other's embrace.
"I had a bad dream."
Light brown eyes met dark blue ones. Megumi's lips opened, but no words were heard. He hugged Yuuji again, but this time tighter.
"It's gonna be ok. Just… I'll make it work." He muttered to the brunette.
"Please stay here. I'll be back soon."
And as quickly as he appeared, Megumi left the apartment. Just for a brief moment, he thought his friend's eyes held a pained expression.
---
Yuuji stared blankly into the moving screen. The TV was showing some lame action movie. But he didn't have the strength to process it right now. His mind kept rewinding past events.
Yuuji wanted to hold Megumi back, but how could he? He could not let these blood-stained arms touch the one he loved again.
It was all his fault. He knew it. Megumi knew it. Gojo-sensei knew it. Heck, everyone knew. So why. Why was he alive? Why did Megumi save him again even when he saw what Yuuji had done?
Tears began to spill from his eyes. It hurt trying not to blink.
"Oh, now you are crying again - such a tasteless vessel. I warned you already. All deaths will be on you." That abhorrent voice was roaring at him.
Though as twisted as it may sound, Yuuji found himself agreeing to its taunt. All the people he wanted to save. All he wanted to have a fair death. All died from his hands. Were his actions all meaningless? Was he wrong to try to stay alive? Would it have been better if he had been dead?
He thought himself so strong, but in reality, he was just a weak human who was unfortunate to carry a world-killing threat and foolish enough to think he could take on the world and solve everything. So weak and useless.
Yuuji remembered the angry screaming, the spiteful words those jujutsu sorcerers spat at him. He remembered the blood and tears his friends endured to get him away. He remembered the scared yet hateful eyes from the people.
Maybe this time, he could plan his death more precisely.
Maybe this would be the only time that he could muster up all of his courage. Yes. This time he would be strong.
Gone was the tear and determination glowed in his empty eyes.
"This… is for everyone."
"I'm sorry, Megumi. Please live a long life."
---
Megumi's chest suddenly hurt. He did not want to leave his friend alone in the apartment. But things needed to be taken care of. People were hunting them, and he would never, ever let them touch his Yuuji.
But something just irked him. He quickly ran back to their place. Everything was going to be ok. He consoled himself, but his legs kept speeding.
Everything was dark when he got home. Everything was going to be fine, fine, fine. Megumi chanted in his head. He quickly swung open the door.
No sign of Yuuji.
Normally he would find his friend lying on the couch as the TV blasted out those B movies. Maybe Yuuji was sleeping in his room. He had trouble sleeping these days. Yeah, he was just sleeping, nothing wrong.
"Yuuji?" The teen softly called out to his friend. He moved further into the house.
A scent of blood hit him. Panic suddenly took over the young jujutsu sorcerer as he rushed over to where the scent came from.
No, no, NO.
On the ground was Yuuji lying on a pool of dark fluid. Everything to Megumi became a standstill. The numbness had taken over the dark-haired boy, his eyes glassy as the stench of blood fully assaulted him.
He reached out his hands and wiped the lingering tear on his friend's face. He looked almost peaceful. Peaceful, cold, and dead. It was not supposed to happen. He thought they could outrun everything, just the two of them against the world would be fine. Because he knew Yuuji was by his side.
His eyes stung. And like a broken dam, streaks of tears rolled down his face. Megumi had not moved an inch, cradling Yuuji's lifeless body in his arms.
He was too late.
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kingdom come.
The radio was blasting their most favorite song. The wind was howling along as a celebration - a round of applause for today was the day of their marriage. Green looked at his beloved, Red's raven locks dancing in the air, blue eyes fluttering, and red lips slightly moving to the lyrics they had known by heart. Perfect, he thought. His love was perfect. Today was perfect.
"Remember the first time we met?"
He shakily loosened his tie and peeked at his beloved. Red gave the look that subtly asked if he was going to cry.
"No, just a bit emotional."
Silent.
"Ok, maybe a lot." Green begrudgingly agreed. Red knew him too well.
"I accidentally - hey, that was an accident - crash-landed in your room and destroyed your favorite book? You were crying and ranting at the same time about how it was the last copy of the sea you had. I thought I was really going to die." He chuckled at the memory.
"And then, at the spur of the moment, I made a promise to bring you there? You looked as if I was crazy. Who could even go to the sea with the war going on? But a promise is a promise. I didn't forget!"
He made a turn and stopped before the open sea. He could taste the salt in the air. "We're here! I'll carry you down!" He swooped up Red in his arms, like the dreamy groom carrying his bride in movies. And he sat both down on the yellow sand, his shoulder a perfect cushion for his love to rest on. The waves, glistening under the sun with so many colors, came crawling softly into the shore.
"Do you like your husband's surprise present? It was even more beautiful than the illustrations in your book." He held Red closer as he looked at his love so tenderly.
"We did it. The war was over, and we are here. So please, say something."
His love was silent as ever. And perfectly still like a person deep in sleep's embrace. Tears welled in his eyes. The heart was now a burden that grew heavier and heavier in his chest. They had gone through so much. They had done everything they could have, to end the war, to navigate through the ruins of the past world, to find a way here. They did their best. But time was so cruel.
He quickly wiped away the tears. "No, this is a happy day for us. Today, we're finally husbands. Through sickness and health, rich or poor, better or worse, you and I will be together." He brought up Red in his arms again as he smiled with determination. "Not even death can tear us apart, right?"
He hummed their most favorite song. The wind howled along. And he carried on, with his childhood friend, his partner, his love, his one-and-only, into the cold yet gentle water.
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Alone at last
Drowned in the cycle of a busy life, urgent work, and nagging family, a woman wished to have more time alone to relax and do her own thing. And in just one night, she would have the world to her own with no obligations.
Inspired by Time Enough At Last in The Twilight Zone, and whatever is happening right now.
---
It was the dead of the night. The darkness has stretched its soft blanket on all. This was when it was so silent that you could hear the wind howling and the weird noises of the house made. When everyone should be sleeping like a log and dreaming of bizarre adventures.
But this was the time where the fraternity of other dreamers thrived. At one window of a seemingly ordinary condominium, the light stayed on, like a twinkling star in the dark sky.
It was from the lamp in a kid’s room - a little girl was staying up late reading. She seemed to be absorbed into whatever she was reading, starry-eyed, flipping pages back and forth enthusiastically. It was a surprise, I must say, considering kids these days were more into phones, tablets, and the like.
A soft knock, and the door opened. The girl gasped in surprise.
“Do you know what time it is? Why are you not sleeping now?” Her father poked his head into the room, glaring at his daughter.
Having been caught red-handed, she shyly put her book away.
“Sorry, guess I was caught up in it.” She looked at her father with big teary eyes, her bottom lip jutting forward into a pout.
“…”
“Fine. I’ll let it slide this time.” Her father crossed his arms, wholly melted before his daughter’s puppy dog eyes.
“But next time, you’ll have to go outside and meet our relatives with me. Don’t groan, missy. I know being grounded is what you want. Now, let me tuck you in.”
The father puffed up the pillow and pulled the blanket over his child, letting it cover her up to the chin so that nothing could hurt her in her sleep. Lying comfortably on the bed, the kid let out a yawn and sunk deeper into the soft mattress.
“Say, what are you reading that makes you stay up so late?” He picked up her book and put it back on the shelf.
“Oh, it’s about a girl and her siblings who travel to another world through a wardrobe. There’s magic, action, and adventure. Like swish, swoosh, boom, pow! They defeat the villain!” She threw her hands up in the air to act out the characters’ brave actions.
“And they all become kings and queens and rule over that world.”
“Sounds interesting. You know, you can do that when you grow up.”
“Rule over the world?” The girl perked up from her blanket.
“No! I mean, yes? Maybe. You can do anything when you’re an adult, creating a world of your own, doing what you like, something like that.”
“Oh, ok! So I can read books all day?”
“Yeah! So please sleep early, study well, and you’ll get there soon.” The father said assuredly.
I will!” The kid shot him a beaming smile.
“Sleep tight, my dear Hân.” The father kissed his child’s forehead gently, and as he closed the door, our little girl was deeply asleep, dreaming what she would be as a grown-up.
—-
“SHUT UP, YOU CHEATING ASSHOLE!”
A scream woke up Hân, who was now a grown woman. Long gone were her big starry eyes and chubby cheeks. What was left were eyes that shone no light and dark circles like a raccoon.
Hân grabbed her phone to look at the time. It seemed like it was too early for her to wake. Or a family quarrel (if you ask me.)
With a groan, she lifted herself up and went outside.
“… I COULD NOT UNDERSTAND WHY DID YOU SLEEP WITH THAT BITCH…”
“… Now you’re saying it’s my fault to…”
“… Remember summer days. It won’t return a second time…” She put on her earphones and blasted her favorite song to drown out the screaming and shouting.
As she was seated at the kitchen table with breakfast, she continued reading the novel that had been hogging her attention these days. It was just a story in the sea of millions of stories online, but then, she accidentally clicked on it and started reading; she could not put it down.
The book told a story of a bank teller who found himself in the post-apocalyptic world. Getting past the first few pages, she liked the protagonist quite a lot: a bookish little person with his passion on the printed pages. He was a sensitive soul, but no one, such as his boss, or the world of people living in a wink, appreciated him.
Even though it was just someone’s imagination written down in text, it felt more real than it ever could have otherwise.
“Hey! Hey! Are you listening to me?” A voice pulled her back to the real world.
And it started again, the daughter sighed. It was always the child who was caught in their parents’ war zone.
Her mother, once holding a loving gaze and gentle touch at her little child, now glared at her with a burning passion. You could understand how having a cheating and lying husband could turn a sweet woman into this… raging tempest.
“You’re always reading shit on the phone! There’s a lot of housework to be done. How many times do I have to remind you?”
“I’ll do it after work.” She grumbled. Anger was rising in her throat, almost on the verge of spilling out.
“And what about I’m reading too much? It’s MY phone I bought with my money. Not like you can throw it away like my books!” She got hot all over thinking of her precious collection, how she had cried her heart out for her magic to be taken away, and how her mother had done it to vent out her frustrations on dad.
“Oh, so now, you have your own money? You’re such a grown-up. If so, why are you not moving out?” Her mom spat out venomous words that made her feel like being set on a stovetop to boil.
If fury was what she received, she would return in kind. But before she could reply, her father jumped in.
“Don’t be so hard on her; she’s doing her best…”
Oh no, stop talking, Father. She rolled her eyes.
“It’s not your turn to talk, asshole. And you have no right to…”
Time to get out of here while the parents were screaming at each other’s faces again. She scurried out of whatever was happening in the kitchen and got ready to work.
---
A blaring honk, someone shouting, a couple running the red light, some slithered onto the pavement only to be caught by the traffic police.
The way to work was, like usual, crowded.
It was as crowded as slimy, smelly sardines packed in a box, except these sardines could slide around in bikes or cars. It was like everyone in the country just thought, “well, I can make a living in this city,” and they moved here, and all went out to work at the same time.
As she waited for the traffic jam to move a little, stop, and repeat, Hân stared at the asphalt. It looked like it was melting from the scorching heat. She, too, was melting. All Hân wanted was to jump to her room with the air conditioner and get back to the world of her books.
What would happen next to the bank teller? She had seen a slice of his daily life, constantly undermined by the bank president and customers. And his wife even had the nerve to mock him and destroy his books.
She did not know how the man could have gone to another world, but she was delighted for him. He could at least be alone and have all the time in the world for himself.
Dripping, dropping.
Pitter - pattering.
Swishing, rushing.
Great. It was also raining, a couple of sneezes heard, she almost swore at the gods above. Could a day get worse?
—
“Hello, is Hân here?”
Oh, she drifted again.
“What is it?” She turned to her colleague, stretching her lips to resemble something of a smile.
“You didn’t hear what I was saying, right? I asked what you think about this proposal?”
“Uhm, ah, yeah, ok. We can send this to the client.” She stuttered out the words.
“Good. Let’s do it so we can end this meeting quickly. Oh, and get your head in the game.” The colleague left the room in a hurry but not without sending a glare down her way at Hân.
The young lady sighed. She, too, wished for this to end soon so she can be back home.
Achoo! Stupid rain. Her phone vibrated, showing a text message on the screen. Or was it someone who was talking about her? She took a peek.
Hi! Are you done with the initiative? Can you send it to me now? The messages from her boss read.
Oh shit. Shivers running down her spine, sweat pouring out of her hands.
She totally forgot about that, with all the things she had at hand. Stupid initiative popping up on the boss’ whim.
Can you give me some time? I’m swamped with other projects right now. I can send it in the afternoon. She quickly typed back.
UNACCEPTABLE! THIS WAS ASSIGNED TO YOU WITH A CLEAR DEADLINE.
What clear deadline, she snorted.
Suddenly, her phone rang, the caller ID showing you-know-who.
Hân took a deep breath, counted to ten, and picked up the phone.
“Hello…”
“HOW COULD YOU BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE???”
Oh no.
“WE NEED YOU TO BE MATURE AND TAKE DEADLINES SERIOUSLY. THIS IS SERIOUS BUSINESS...” The boss droned on and on about “responsibility” and “being proactive.” Suddenly, like choking on their own spit after talking (and shouting) too much, her boss was caught in a coughing fit. Taking advantage of that chance, she launched her verbal defense.
“I’m sorry, but you just asked me yesterday. And I still have other urgent work…”
“NO EXCUSES! I WANT IT SENT TO ME AFTER LUNCH. ARE YOU CLEAR? 130PM SHARP!”
“Yes, I will.” She said defeatedly as the conversation here was dead.
Something acidic constricted in her chest, then slowly, it spread upwards to her eyes and nose. Why did things like this happen all the time to her? Was she that much of a pushover? All she wanted was to scream, to throw something, or just let it all out and leave this place for good.
But she could not allow herself to be weak like that. After all, this job could secure her way out of her wretched family. So she needed to keep on moving.
She walked back to her seat and began typing furiously to finish what the boss had assigned her. She could hear others whispering mean things about her, about her getting yelled at by the boss again, about her being a slob, about her always having her head in the clouds. But no matter. As long as she was finished with these tasks.
—-
Hân arrived back home almost at midnight with a rumbling stomach. Lucky for her, after turning in the work, the boss spared her no words, which left her only the usual work to be taken care of. And she didn’t even have to pull an all-nighter or face her parents at home.
The overworked office lady lazily plopped down on the sofa, wedging herself down on the cushions and leaning her head on the armrest. Her stomach growled again. She looked at the kitchen, seeing some plates covered with food wrap on the dining table. So, no need for food orders, she thought. Yet, she was too tired to move or to eat anything.
Hân took out her phone to check her social media accounts but met with flooded messages from work. So much for work-life balance preaching.
With one swift action, she turned on “No disturb” mode. No more hassle.
She slouched off to her bed and continued her novel. The night was quiet: millions of people out and about, thousands of bikes and cars, hundreds of conversations and gossip. It was silent, absolute silent when she was absorbed in the world of books.
She pored over the pages. So a nuclear bomb destroyed that world, and the bank teller happened to be in the bank vault reading books. See, reading saved lives, she thought triumphantly.
Now, he was exploring the empty city. If it were her, she would be ecstatic. Sure, there would be challenges in no man’s land. She could see the bank teller had not been able to endure it. Yet, no more annoying parents with their drama, no more crowds in this dog-eat-dog world, and no more working the job you hate and repeat again and again. You could begin anew; the world was your oyster.
The bank teller’s excitement as he found the library to read in the brand new world gave warm feelings spreading all over her. Oh, but what was with this ending? The running words on paper lulled her into a dreamless slumber. The last thing she remembered was wishing the world to leave her alone.
Unbeknownst to her, it really did.
—-
Hân woke up feeling energized, like she had had enough sleep for weeks. It was surprising, considering how her sleep schedule these days was practically non-existent. Except…
She searched for her phone in a panic. Finally, it was found under one of her pillows. The screen lit up, showing what she feared: 1PM. A barrage of notifications, texts and phone calls flooded her screen (which she highly suspected were from her boss and colleagues.) And to make matters worse, the battery only showed ten percent.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She let out a string of curses and scrambled to the bathroom. A fading sound of the TV could be heard in the background. However, our lady did not have the heart to listen to anything right now.
“An increasing number of reports of people collapsing…”
As the water was splashed to her face, she thought of how to say to her boss. Maybe a traffic accident?
“This is the deadliest virus yet…”
Sunscreen applied. Nah, she would need evidence. Or a family emergency?
“Officials have stated that this is a worldwide pandemic…”
Clothes worn on without a care about fashion. Yeah, maybe it could work? Like her mom had to go to the hospital or something.
“Please stay where you are and don’t leave your home…”
No time to charge the phone. Wait, why was the TV turned on? Her father must have left it on again.
Hân turned off the screen too quickly to recognize the fear and worry of the news reporter while mentally cursing how her father and his forgetfulness must have also caused him to forget the existence of his wife and daughter at times.
She grabbed the bánh ướt takeout on the clean dining table on the way down before driving her bike outside the house, head only thinking of getting to work as soon as possible.
Something, like a massive fist, came slamming into her.
The young lady fell on the asphalt, her ankle and arm throbbed. She took a quick look at them to see scratches and blood beginning to spill out.
She quickly turned to her assailant, preparing to scream into their face. But, to her surprise, that person, more of a female, she thought, was wearing a make-shift suit made from a plastic raincoat, their whole face almost obscured by the face mask. On their bike were boxes of things that seemed like it was moving day.
“Sorry! But we’ve got to hurry! Before they get to us!” Panic was dripping in the, definitely, woman’s voice. It was a familiar one, she recognized. It was Ms. Liên, whose house was at the end of their hẻm. She had seen her mom getting all buddy-buddy with her.
“Who’s coming? Where are you going? Ms. Liên, isn’t it?” Hân tried to stand and pulled down her face mask to speak.
“PUT IT BACK ON!” The woman’s screech startled her. It was real fear. She was frantic, terrified of something.
She began coughing before talking again. “...No time to talk. Your parents were taken away already! I saw it! Run!” She sputtered out the words with haste that was uncharacteristic for a normally calm and soft-spoken woman.
“Wait, wait! What’s happening?” The young lady stepped in front of Liên’s bike, blocking her path. She could not let her go without answers.
There was a glint in Liên’s dark eyes. All words seemed to have fallen deaf to her ears. The women revved up the engine and drove ahead, not caring about the young lady before her.
Hân fell on the ground, just jumping out of the way in time. What the fuck? What was going on here? What was it about her parents being taken away? She overslept for one night, and what had the world turned into?
She took a deep breath and got on her bike to move out.
It was something straight out of sci-fi or horror movies and books she had seen. People scurrying away with their bags of belongings. Stores left in a mess after attempts to ravage the goods or just locked behind collapsible iron doors. And everyone was donning extra protective gear to cover themselves whole.
The young lady pulled over and reached for her phone. She skimmed through every news channel and social media. An extremely infectious virus had people dropping dead like flies. The government had issued an emergency decree for everyone to stay put and stay indoors. The symptoms were fever and dry cough, and that was it. People live-streaming the chaos everywhere.
Hân kept scrolling down and down in a haze until it was only black. She stared at the black mirror. A clammy sweat had broken out on the back of her neck. Her whole stomach seemed to seize up. So her parents were taken away, meaning they were infected, right?
It was going to be ok. She kept repeating that mantra as she drove on.
“NO! LET ME LEAVE!” A scream. And a loud noise.
As she turned around the corner of the street, she was met with a scene that filled her with dread.
“Stop! Turn around!”
Before her eyes were security barricades and the military, all geared up with high-tech masks and hazmat suits.
From the corner of her eyes, she had seen it, the trail of blood and the body of a person who was wearing an eerily similar outfit to Ms. Liên. With that much blood loss, even she could have told that the chance to survive was slim.
So, not knowing who were the infected or not, they would not let us leave.
“Repeat. We’re in a quarantine period. Return to your house. Everything is under control.” They shouted again; this time, their guns were ready to point at anyone who dared cross the line.
It was not ok. Nothing was ok.
She did not know how she could get home. The only thing she remembered was fear, disgust, and a sense of despair crawling on her skin.
Everything she had known was now shattered.
Tears welled up, the young lady burst out crying. Only her wails were heard in the silence of the house.
—-
It was a beautiful day, depending on where you looked. Depending on where you looked, you might have seen a blue summer sky with lazy clouds drifting by. Or you might have seen a city sleeping in serenity like it was in the Tết celebration.
But a closer look, you might have seen the peculiar emptiness and chaotic shambles. The crowded and lively wet market, the grocer’s families had visited for years, the bakery with fresh bánh mì every morning. Everything was battered monuments to what had been but was no more.
In that ruins, you might have seen a house with lights on, music blasting out. A young lady was dancing to every beat with the exuberance of a dancing queen. Screams and gunshots were heard in the distance from those who tried to get out, but she would not care. For now, she was the country’s star hosting her concert of a million attendees, singing her heart out for the beloved fans.
No one was here, she thought, might as well enjoy it the way she wanted.
“And the crowd goes wild for the one and only Ms. Hân! Thank you. Thank you.” She bowed down and waved at the invisible crowd as the music ended.
Hân dropped down on the floor, gasping for air. Her stomach let out a gurgle, signaling it was time for some meal. After a few minutes of ignoring the hunger, she finally stood up to prepare the food. Despite the “abrupt move,” there were many goods and produce left behind that could be scavenged back home.
She put on the soup pot and turned on the gas stove. The familiar clicking noise, yet no fire in sight. It had run out of gas. Lucky for her, there was still electricity, so she moved to the microwave.
Maybe she would need to find the gas store and more dry provisions tomorrow; she made a mental note for her to-do list as she was eating.
Hân took out her phone and searched for the nearest store. The connection was glitchy at best; she could barely see anything on social media. And all TV channels only ran at sporadic times for official updates. But it was better than having nothing.
The last time she checked, apparently, everything was still “under control.” Though, from what she gathered from the bits and pieces online, things were far worse. There were conspiracies (or not) theories emerging everywhere, despite the government’s effort to take them down. Such as, the mysterious virus having been wiping out humanity was a punishment from the heavens. Or it was a biological weapon created in a lab for nefarious purposes (she was really sold on this, the evidence listed by the online detectives was super convincing.)
As she finished the meal, the young lady threw the bowl in the sink full of dirty dishes without care. Then, she lay down on her bed, staring at the surroundings. Just like the endless dirty dishes, her room was wrecked as if the tornado had gone through, paper bags, trash, leftovers all over the place. The layering dust made her sneeze. Better clean this up, she thought. Or not.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except what she wanted. No more work, no more parents, no more harassment.
Hân blasted out the music again and flicked through the books on her phone. It was a beautiful day, depending on what you thought of it.
—-
Slipping off the bed with the blanket hugging around her like a colorful python, the young lady lazily walked outside her room.
“Hello, sofa.” She curled up on it like it was her second bed. The fabric felt cool on her skin. She checked her phone automatically, like an ingrained behavior. Only when the “no connection��� message appeared did she remember the Internet had gone down for days already. Her throat was parched, and her inside burning up. It seemed that sleeping too much was not so good.
“Hello, fridge.” She took out the water bottle inside. It was not as thirst-quenching as she thought the water would be, but since the electricity had been cut off, she had to settle with this.
Fortunately, she had hauled her lazy ass to get the gas cylinder and replace it into the stove (even though she was not sure if the installation and the gas pipes were right but so far, so good.) If not, she would not have had clean water to drink.
“Hello, food.” The bread tasted like sand in her mouth. Ugh, she felt like throwing up. This did not seem so good.
“You should get some medicine, Hân. A fever might come up, you know.” The table talked to her.
Hân stared at it for a full minute before standing up to get to the medicine cabinet. It was tiring to even move. She searched through various bottles and blister packs, but there seemed to be no fever-reducing medicine on sight. A coughing fit came out of her throat too quickly for her to hold it back.
“Aww, shucks. It could be the virus.” The cabinet said mockingly.
“Shut up.” She glared at it with little anger left in her mind.
“Maybe you should check in your parent’s room. They always have their own stash of medicine shoved somewhere there.” The chair helpfully suggested.
Oh, to hell with it. She could have gone crazy, but what the chair said was right. There were high chances that they had it - old people and always carrying their medicines everywhere.
She stopped before the beige door of her parent’s room. Or should it be her mom’s room now? She thought her father had moved to the attic. It was surprising that they could live under a roof after that big “revelation.”
The room had not been touched ever since the pandemic erupted. Coming in felt like a breach of privacy, but she could be overthinking. No one was there now.
Ok, here goes nothing. She psyched herself up before opening the door.
A familiar scene hit her like a bus. Neatly folded blankets over a row of pillows, clothes littered the room, organized into piles. There were cosmetics and skincare bottles on the dressing table, a few being opened - her mom must have been in a hurry to work that morning. Happy pictures of the family, her family, decorated on the walls. Her mom was an emotional one, holding onto memories and nostalgia like that. Perhaps that was why she could not take the falling out with her father so well.
The room looked so much, felt so much like an ordinary day that it was nauseating, seeing a slice of her old life like this.
She hurried to the dressing table and searched for any medicines left.
“Are you having a cold, dear? I usually put the meds in that drawer to your left.” The mom in the pictures talked to her with a worried voice.
Huh, that she had not heard for some time. She kept looking through every cabinet. And also that drawer, to be sure.
“If there was nothing there, you can take a look in our wardrobe, dear.”
“Oh, that’s where you put those things, too.” A new voice emerged. It was her father’s.
Hmm, there were no meds here. So she could probably check the wardrobe, too. It was not like she followed those voices’ directions. She searched on, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head whatever the two were chattering about.
The sick lady opened the door, disregarding the large piles of things inside. Oh, and there you go. She popped some Paracetamol and Tylenol as she swallowed them all. Gotta save water.
“I remember I used to take care of you a lot when you were young. You easily got sick back then. Now you’re all grown up and taking care of yourself.”
“Yes, I remember when Hân was a tiny little girl who always had her head in a book. You were gonna study so well and be successful; that was what we thought.”
“Have you eaten anything yet? You look so green.”
“It’s ok if you don’t want to talk to us. But you should take care of yourself better.”
“I know how to take care of myself!” She shouted at the framed pictures, her voice breaking and high-pitched. The fire flickering inside suddenly erupted.
“Why didn’t you guys keep your drama to yourself? What kind of parents took out their problems on their child? Do you have any idea how terrible that feels? It was the worst! And home was not home anymore! You guys ruined it! And it even got worse! You all left!”
Like a dam that was now released, words and tears came out of her in streams. It was all the frustrations she bottled up all of this time. Her face was red with fever and anger as she stared at the picture mother and father.
They even had the audacity to look flustered.
A swing. A flash. And their faces were gone. She lashed out and smashed all of them down.
Hân ran out of the room as tears spilled out uncontrollably. Her ears and voice hurt, chest burning hot as she screamed out loud. Then, like a monster emerging from the inferno of hell, all was left in shambles on her path until it was all oblivion.
—-
She woke to the sound of a lullaby she used to hear when she was young. Every kid must have known this classic by heart. The song was about a stork who got drowned when finding food for its hatchlings at night. She remembered little Hân had asked her mom if every lullaby had to be sad like that. Má would shush her back to sleep, and the child would promise that this hatchling would grow up fast to be a successful person and take care of their parents, so they would not be like the stork.
There was a breeze that skid over her face, bringing a nostalgic scent of wind oil. Whenever she was sick, her Ba would palm it on her soles and temples for the sickness to go away soon. The heat was not irritating but more of a warmth welling on her skin. Like the warmth of his hand gripping her neck to pour his strength into her. You are going to be alright, his voice calm and cool like a rock. The warmth pressed to her back soothingly in a circular motion.
She was a child again. Má and her were getting the fresh-laundered clothes, sunlight-scented, down from the clothesline on the terrace. Twilight approaches the summer sky.
“Do you know what they are called?” Her mother asked as she studied the vegetables in her make-shift garden.
She shook her head.
“See, that’s why you should go to the wet market with me more.” Má grinned from ear to ear.
She turned away, lips almost forming a pout. But staying home reading was more fun.
“Be careful!” Má said as she ran off, carrying the clothes downstairs.
Even though she was so tiny, the clothes were heavy, she was a bit tired from staying up late to read, she mustered all of her strength to hold a pile of clothes as tall as her. Just to impress Má that her kid had got it all.
As she put the clothes in the wardrobe, a thought came across her. What if her wardrobe could bring her to another world? She squeezed herself in the cramped place and closed the door, waiting for the magical switch to happen.
How long would it take? 5, 10, 15, 20, the numbers kept going as she counted. Oh, what were those? She was met with a stack of books hidden in the corner. Browsing through the pages, the girl was sucked into the world of wonders.
She jolted awake as she was greeted with her mother’s frantic face and warm hands that shook her up.
“Why are you hiding in here? I’m worried to death, looking everywhere for you!” Her eyes glazed.
“I-I was just trying if I can travel to another place with this.” She said weakly, preparing to face her mother’s wrath.
“Next time, invite me. Can’t believe you’re going without me. Don’t leave this mother, ok?” Má twisted her face to make it like she was offended and let out a laugh. “You wanna eat something yet?”
“Ok, let’s grab some food.” She beamed as she held onto Má’s hand and get outside.
She was an adult again, as she stepped out, a foot across the threshold transporting her to her room. But she was carefully tucked in her bed at night like a child.
“Say, what are you reading that makes you stay up so late?” Her father stood near her bookshelf, putting her book back on.
“I… it was some post-apocalyptic novel. It doesn’t matter anyway.” She sputtered out the words.
“Thought you liked it a lot. I keep seeing you reading it these days.” He raised his eyebrow to his receding hairline.
“Was it about a dreamer who often get conspired by the cruel world then find themselves at that world’s end? Did they finally find their own recluse with their beloved books, or did they succumb to despair, I wonder?” His singsong voice was suddenly filled with mock skepticism.
“Why do you care now?” She asked, genuinely questioning the man before her.
The man came over to sit on her bed, eyes staring at her own.
“You know. We haven’t been ok, I mean, we don’t know how to describe it, and both your mom and I didn’t know how to deal with it. We’re sorry we hurt you. But you know, we would never leave you.”
“Sleep tight, my dear Hân.” He leaned in and kissed his child’s forehead gently before leaving the room and her in utter silence.
Of course, she knew. Somewhere deep in her anger, frustration, and fatigue, she knew that. She knew that despite their problems, her mom still cooked for her and bought her breakfast every morning. She knew her father still got her back every time her mom got too much. She knew that even if they did not know how to say it, they still loved her. Because she had seen the messages they left on that day.
And she was left alone inside this house.
—-
Hân woke into the orange-filled hour. Her throat was still sore, but it seemed the fever had broken, sweat running from her long hair. She rubbed her puffy eyes. Was she crying?
The reddish sunlight etched on the walls like it had set the place on fire. The air seemed to vibrate with heat. The broken furniture and destroyed things in the surroundings really added to that scenario.
Feet on the cold tile floor, she stood up and wandered around the house. All electronics could not work or were just destroyed—her phone lying on the tattered sofa, connected to nothing. Food may not run out soon; however, they were dry and tasteless as her boss’s (probably ex-boss) sense of humor. No one was here, after hours of searching and finding in the shell of what used to be a bustling city, except her own imagination.
How would you continue with this?
The world was breaking and gaping like it could shatter any moment under her feet, and she would fall under, spinning out into nothingness.
Something constricted in her chest. She wished it would just pour out and drown her in it. But, it just rose and rose, and there was no release. Just grief and sorrow too much for her body to hold. Just loss and the searing knowledge that nothing would truly ever be the same. That her world would never be what it had been. And until her body crumbled to dust, she would have to face nothing but her own ache and pain of remembering what exactly she had lost.
Yet, there was a spark in the ashes of this world.
She stopped inside her parents’ room and opened the wardrobe. She had seen it. Among the heap of clothes and other things, there was a stack of books at the corner. She had a quick glance at them all. They were brand new, all of her lost favorites. So her mom or both must have bought them for some time.
She did not know it was guilt, something as a token of apology, or what. But she was thankful for this as she flipped through a book. It was the one she used to love as a kid: The Lion, The witch, and the wardrobe. It was one of the first books she finished by herself.
An urge pulsed inside of her. Returning to the first page, she started pouring on. It still gave her that feeling of a fire in the dark. Like the characters and their world were there with her. For some moments, she was not alone.
Standing through the fallout of their family, the clutter of mindless living, and the chaos of her madness, books were the only constant thing in her life that sparked joy.
That was it. With all this time she had on her hand, she could read all the books she ever wanted without interruption. Seeming to find the light at the end of the tunnel, she grabbed a handful of books for further reading, as excited as a kid who just opened a present on their birthday.
Then, a loud bang. A flash. A slam to the wall. And a world of pain.
When Hân came to, she was under the debris of the room, covered in concrete, brick, and plaster dust. There was nothing but stones and a collapsed roof. Her head hurt terribly, her ears ringing, and her right arm twinged with a sharp pain whenever she moved it.
But it didn’t matter.
In front of her, there was nothing. Instead, she was staring at the empty space where the room used to be, where the books used to be.
Everything was silent as if in requiem for her loss.
Now she was truly alone.
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Chuyện nhà có chuột
"Ủa sao nhà có chuột thì ko được nhắc đến nó dợ?" "Tại người ta nghĩ tụi chuột thông minh, thấy mình có gì lạ là trốn à. Nên mới ko đc nhắc đến nó." "..." "Ủa vậy nói tiếng Anh đc hem?"
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Friends/Parents/Teachers/Colleagues: So what’s your plan for the future?
Me: *existential crisis*
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Sau này mình nhất định sẽ nuôi mèo.
Ủa sao không nuôi con khác mà nuôi mèo?
Nuôi thêm con gì cũng được nhưng đầu tiên phải là nuôi mèo.
Mình rất thích mèo. Tuy nhiên nói thì rất dễ. Thích mèo vì mèo dễ thương, sang chảnh, thông minh,... Tất cả cũng chỉ là bề nổi. Mèo phức tạp hơn như vậy. Với mình, mèo là sinh vật phức tạp với những hành động và suy nghĩ khác lạ.
Mình muốn nuôi mèo không phải chỉ mang về ôm ôm mấy cái rồi nhờ người khác giữ. Mình muốn tự tay chăm từng phần ăn, từng lần tắm, chọn từng đồ chơi, hộp cát, từng cái nệm... Vì mình muốn hiểu và trải nghiệm cảm giác chăm sóc mèo mình yêu thương hết mực và cảm nhận tình yêu đó được đáp trả rất chân thành như thế nào. Nuôi mèo như mối quan hệ 2 chiều: cho và nhận.
Tưởng tượng khi đi học đi làm về, được dụi vào bộ lông mềm và ôm mèo trong lòng thì mọi sự mệt mỏi khó chịu đều tan biến hết. Sẽ có lúc mèo sẽ có những hành động kì lạ, mình sẽ quay phim, chụp hình lại hết vì thường những chuyện đó rất dễ thương và đó có thể là những cách quan tâm rất riêng của mèo.
Cuối cùng, nuôi mèo để hiểu thêm về Mèo ;3
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- How can you always look so natural in pictures?
- Natural is just years of practice.
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Chiều nay mẹ mình về thì có gặp 1 bé dưới sân. Đại khái là bé đó thích túi MU của mẹ nên mới lân la lại hỏi chuyện. Nói 1 hồi mới biết bé đó nhà ngay dưới nhà mình.
Thế là mẹ bé đó đứng gần liền quay qua hỏi mẹ mình: “Có phải nhà chị có mấy đứa nhóc không? Tối nào 11-12g đêm cũng nghe rầm rầm trên lầu.”
Bé cũng gật đầu lia lịa: “Con cũng nghe được đó! Ầm ầm luôn!”
Và mẹ mình chỉ cười nói: “Nhắc tụi nó lâu rồi mà chưa sửa được.”
Thật ra nhà chỉ có 2 đứa “nhớn” mà tối tới giờ là chạy nhảy tùm lum…
#chuyệnmẹkể#bluecatstory#daily stuff#thật ra nếu là mình thì mình sẽ nhẹ nhàng nói nhà ko có đứa nhỏ nào hết
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- Cố lên đi! Mày sẽ làm được mà. Nhớ nộp vô chỗ X nha!
- Huhu cảm ơn mày đã động viên tao *cảm thấy tràn đầy cảm hứng*
- Ủa khoan mà nghĩ lại thì thôi mày ko làm được đâu.
- Hả…
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