The car pulled away from the supermarket as the sky began to darken. The shopping bags were neatly arranged in the back seat, mostly groceries and a few household items Linh had said were necessary for the house. Thanh An drove without turning on the radio. After such a long day, all she wanted was to hold on to a little of the rare quiet before returning home. Tú Linh sat beside her, occasionally looking down to check the list on her phone and see if there was anything she had missed.
“I bought enough, Ms. An. There’s enough for you to eat for a whole week.”
Thanh An only gave a soft hum, and no one said anything else for the rest of the drive. Linh looked out the window at the busy traffic and the dazzling, twinkling lights, while Thanh An focused on driving. When they got home, Linh took the groceries into the kitchen without being asked. She set each bag down and began sorting everything. The ingredients needed for dinner came out first, while the rest went into the refrigerator and kitchen cabinets.
Thanh An stood in the doorway, intending to lend a hand. But after watching for a while, she realized she had no idea what to do. Linh was washing vegetables; there was no need for her to interfere. Linh was preparing the meat; she wasn't needed for that either. The rice cooker had already been filled with rinsed rice and turned on at some point. If she waited until now to start cooking, they probably wouldn't have rice until morning.
In the end, Thanh An could only stand there, feeling strangely superfluous. It was an unfamiliar feeling for someone accustomed to knowing exactly what to do the moment she stepped anywhere. At the hospital, faced with a complicated case, she could immediately assign each person a task. But in her own kitchen, standing before a bunch of greens and a few onions, she didn't know where to begin. Tú Linh was bending down to retrieve something from a cabinet when she turned around and caught Thanh An standing behind her.
“Do you need anything?”
Thanh An paused.
“No. I don't know anything about this. What would I need?”
Tú Linh let out a very soft laugh. It wasn't teasing, just an instinctive smile at the unbelievable sincerity of her answer.
“Have you always been bad at cooking?”
“Yes.”
Thanh An answered after a moment's thought.
“But I hardly ever do it.”
Linh nodded and continued picking through the vegetables.
“I figured. Your kitchen is completely empty. There's practically nothing in it.”
Thanh An didn't argue. She pulled out a chair and sat near the dining table, but she kept looking toward the kitchen. Tú Linh worked quickly. She didn't need to check a recipe on her phone or measure very much. Everything seemed to have become second nature. Cutting the meat, seasoning it, washing the vegetables, heating the pan...everything followed naturally, one step after another. Thanh An watched for a long time before realizing she was staring too intently. Linh noticed too and turned around.
“Did you want to tell me something?”
Thanh An looked slightly dazed.
“Yeah.”
“Yes?”
“Oh, nothing. It's just...”
Thanh An fell silent for a few seconds.
“You look like you've done this a lot. Did you cook often at home?”
It was a simple question. Tú Linh turned back to the cutting board in front of her, the corners of her lips curving slightly.
“I cooked a lot at home. My mom has a little pho shop, and she's really good in the kitchen. She taught me how to make quite a few dishes when I was little.”
“Oh.”
“You really don't cook often?”
Thanh An leaned back in her chair.
“I don't have time.”
She looked toward the kitchen.
“My work at the hospital and school takes up a lot of time. Some days, I don't get home until almost morning. I eat whatever I can find. And if I don't eat, it isn't a big deal.”
Linh paused for a moment.
“Then I guess you don't get many home-cooked meals, huh?”
Thanh An didn't answer right away. She looked at the kitchen in front of her.
“Probably not. Every once in a while, my aunt comes over and cooks for me.”
It was a perfectly ordinary answer. But for some reason, Tú Linh felt there was something about it that made her feel sorry for Thanh An. She didn't ask anything else and simply continued preparing the food. A little while later, Linh opened the refrigerator, looked through it, then picked up a plate of watermelon and turned to her.
“Go eat some watermelon in the living room and get some rest. I'll call you when dinner's ready.”
“Okay. If you need help with anything, just call me.”
“I can handle it. You go rest. I'll call you when I'm done.”
Thanh An had been about to say something, but seeing how naturally Linh handled everything, she eventually let it go.
“Okay.”
She got up and left the kitchen while Linh continued working. The sound of running water rang out again, followed by the steady chop of a knife against the cutting board. Thanh An returned to the living room and sat down on the sofa. She picked up the remote, turned on the TV, and randomly selected a program that was airing. The light from the screen spread across the otherwise quiet room. But this time, the silence wasn't complete. From the kitchen came the occasional sound of a cabinet opening, dishes clinking together, and hot oil crackling in the pan.
Thanh An sat still. She barely followed anything on the TV; her attention kept drifting unconsciously toward the kitchen. Before this, the house had always been like this—quiet, tidy, and clean, but filled with a cold emptiness. She went to work, came home, showered, ate something quick, and went to sleep. The next day, she did it all over again. Everything was so orderly that the house barely showed any sign that a person lived there.
Today was different. There were voices in the kitchen, the smell of food slowly spreading into the living room, and another pair of shoes on the rack by the door. There was also another person moving naturally through the house that had belonged to Thanh An alone for so many years. She glanced at the chair across from her, where Linh's canvas bag was still sitting. She looked at it for a few seconds, then turned back to the screen. She wasn't annoyed or inconvenienced, as she had once thought she might be. Instead, the house seemed to have gained a little warmth.
A little over half an hour later, Tú Linh's voice called from the kitchen.
“Ms. An.”
Thanh An looked up.
“Yes?”
“Dinner's ready.”
She turned off the TV.
“Okay. I'm coming.”
Thanh An walked into the kitchen and saw that the table had already been set. There was nothing fancy, just a very ordinary family meal: one savory dish, one stir-fry, a bowl of soup, a plate of vegetables, and two bowls with two pairs of chopsticks. But everything was steaming hot, unlike the cold boxed meals she often bought after work. Tú Linh pulled out a chair for her.
“Have a seat.”
Thanh An sat down, and Linh took the seat across from her, watching her nervously.
“I just threw something together. Try it and see if it suits your taste.”
Thanh An picked up a bite and ate slowly. Tú Linh waited. A moment later, Thanh An nodded.
“It's good.”
It was only three words, but they were enough to make Tú Linh relax. She lowered her head with a smile.
“Thank you.”
Thanh An looked at the table again. It was a perfectly ordinary meal, and nothing special had happened. But she suddenly realized that it had been a very long time since she had sat down to eat a meal someone had cooked, with someone sitting across from her and waiting to hear whether she liked it. She picked up her chopsticks again. All of a sudden, Thanh An thought that having another person in the house...maybe it wasn't so bad.
After eating, Tú Linh stood up to clear away the bowls and chopsticks. Thanh An finished the last of her soup and stood up too, taking the dishes from Linh.
“Let me do it.”
“I'll wash them.”
“Two people will be faster. You let me wash the dishes, and you wipe the table.”
“Okay.”
The two of them split up the cleanup. Tú Linh wiped the table while Thanh An put the dishes in the sink and washed them. Her movements were practiced; clearly, she wasn't incapable of housework. She simply hadn't done it in a long time. Linh looked at her and smiled without realizing it, the corners of her lips still turned up.
The kitchen was quickly clean again. It took only about ten minutes for everything to return to its usual neat state. Thanh An washed and dried her hands, then looked at her watch.
“Get some rest early. You still have school tomorrow.”
“Okay... Oh, Ms. An... thank you.”
Thanh An seemed to understand what Linh was thanking her for.
“You don't have to be so formal.”
With that, she turned and walked straight to her room. Tú Linh went back to her own room too and pulled the blanket over herself, beaming with happiness. Thanh An sat down at her desk, put on her glasses, and flipped open a lesson plan. Then she closed it again and sighed.
“Ugh... I should just go to sleep. I'm so full I can barely breathe, and I'm exhausted.”
And so, a peaceful night came to an end.
The morning at school passed in its usual rhythm. After spending several days straight at the hospital, Tú Linh had nearly forgotten what it felt like to sit in a lecture hall, listen to a professor droning on at the podium, and hear dozens of students around her rustling their books.
As soon as the group had settled into their seats, Quân put his bag down on the desk and looked over at the three girls in front of him.
“Finally, all my girls are here.”
Mai turned around.
“Seriously? We've still seen you these past few days.”
“The hospital doesn't count.”
Khánh laughed.
“Once we got back to the dorm, there was nobody around. I was dying of loneliness.”
Quân thought about it seriously for a moment.
“At the hospital, we practice until our eyes burn, and there's nowhere to hang out.”
Trang raised an eyebrow.
“Hey, can you talk later?”
“Exactly.”
Quân nodded.
Mai laughed and chimed in.
“Come on, guys. Are you trying to fail the class? Study first and talk later. What if we come to class and don't study, then the professor calls on us and we all just sit there staring at each other?”
Khánh crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.
“This guy got used to having a bunch of princesses take care of him. Now that you're out here with nobody reminding you to drink water or asking you to go eat, you feel deprived.”
Quân immediately turned to her and burst out laughing. The whole group started laughing too.
Quân reached over and lightly slapped Khánh on the shoulder.
“Forget about that.”
Mai laughed as she opened her book.
“The hospital hasn't exactly made us more mature. All I see is that you guys have become even more talkative.”
Today's class was a different course, unrelated to the cases the group was following in the Oncology Department. As usual, the five of them sat together in one row.
Trang rested her chin in her hand.
“What about you, Linh? Are you settling in okay at the new place?”
Tú Linh was taking out her notebook. She looked up when she heard the question.
“I'm fine.”
“Getting used to it?”
“It's okay. My mom's acquaintance has a pretty quiet house.”
Quân immediately turned around.
“That's good. At least you've got a stable place to stay, so you don't have to spend money on a dorm.”
“Yeah.”
Linh smiled faintly.
“Nothing's inconvenient so far. That's basically it, but we'll see how things go after I've been there a while.”
Mai looked at her for a few seconds, then nodded.
“That works.”
Trang added, “My mom's the same. She even said that if the school couldn't arrange anything, I could just keep staying at home.”
Mai immediately cut in. “My mom too. She said if staying at school wasn't safe, I should rent a place off campus. Last night she even asked how I was eating. And you know what? Trang's mom cooks so well it's insane. Trang, I love your mom, and I love you too.”
“Hey, how about we buy some pastries later and bring them home for everyone to eat tonight?”
“Yes, sure, yeahhh!”
At that, Quân immediately complained, “Now I miss home cooking. Hey, let me come eat with you guys!”
Khánh turned to him.
“Fatty Quan misses the food, not the family.”
Quân was silent for two seconds.
“I miss both, okay? Haha.”
Everyone burst into loud laughter. Whenever they got together, they laughed noisily even when nothing was particularly funny. Tú Linh laughed along, but she couldn't help thinking of the kitchen from the night before. The pot of rice she had just cooked, and the person who was still asleep in the room across from hers that morning.
She lowered her head and pretended to focus on arranging her books. No one in the group knew that her story about “her mom's acquaintance” was completely different from what they imagined. Just then, the professor's voice rang out from the doorway.
“Everyone, settle down.”
The whole group immediately sat up straight.
Quân still had time to pull his notebook in front of him.
Khánh glanced over.
“Sit up straight. If you fall asleep again today, I'm not saving you.”
Quân lowered his voice.
“I know.”
At the front of the room, the professor began taking attendance, and the group's morning chatter came to an end.
They quickly returned to their proper places: students sitting in a lecture hall, facing a new course, with their unfinished internship days waiting behind them.
Around noon, the last class finally ended. As soon as the professor stopped speaking, the entire class quickly packed up their books. The three girls walked out of the lecture hall together, joining the stream of students heading down into the schoolyard. The midday sun cast a pale brightness over the wide courtyard, and heat began radiating from the pavement, making everyone eager to find some shade.
Outside the school entrance, Trang had already parked her electric scooter. As she put on her helmet, she looked over at Tú Linh.
“Linh, are you taking the bus home?”
“Yeah.”
Mai had already climbed onto the back. The moment Trang saw Linh nod, she turned to her friend with a mischievous look.
“Hey, Mai.”
“What?”
“Hold on tight.”
Mai hadn't even figured out what was happening when Trang lightly twisted the throttle. The electric scooter shot forward a short distance, startling Mai into wrapping both arms around her friend's waist.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing, you little monster?”
Trang grinned triumphantly.
“Showing Linh my legendary riding skills, obviously! Hahaha!”
“You're insane!”
Tú Linh burst out laughing beside them, watching the two bicker and not knowing what to say. Trang slowed down and turned to look at Linh.
“See? This is way more convenient than taking the bus.”
Mai nodded too as she adjusted her helmet strap.
“Yeah. You should buy one too. Going to school, going to the hospital, then going home—having your own ride gives you a lot more freedom.”
Trang continued, “Especially since you've moved. Your new place probably isn't very close to school or the hospital.”
Tú Linh thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Yeah. I'll think about it.”
“What is there to think about?”
Mai smiled.
“Having your own transportation means you won't have to plan everything around the bus schedule.”
“I know.”
Linh laughed.
“I'll figure it out.”
The three of them stood at the school entrance for a while longer, chatting about random things before splitting up. Trang drove Mai away from the school entrance, and their voices continued echoing through the heavy traffic. Tú Linh watched them for a while before turning toward the bus stop.
It was nearly noon. The sunlight had grown harsher, but beneath the bus stop's roof, a little breeze still passed through, making the heat more bearable. Linh took out her phone to check the time, then suddenly thought of the kitchen at home. Before leaving that morning, she had already prepared the ingredients and put them in the refrigerator.
Thanh An had patients scheduled at the hospital today. Linh knew she wouldn't come home for lunch, but what about dinner? The thought came naturally, but right afterward, Linh felt a little shy. The night before, she had worked up the courage to ask Thanh An for her Zalo contact. The reason sounded perfectly reasonable: it would make it easier to get in touch when necessary. Still, since getting the account, this was the first time she had actually taken the initiative to text.
Tú Linh opened their chat. She took a picture of the sweet-and-sour stir-fried ribs, looked at it once, then deleted the message she had started typing. She typed again, deleted it again, and finally let out a breath, telling herself that she was only asking whether the person she lived with would be home for dinner. There was no reason to get so nervous.
Her finger touched the screen. Tú Linh typed: An, are you coming home for dinner? I'm making sweet-and-sour ribs. Can you eat that?
As soon as the message was sent, Linh locked her phone. Three seconds later, she unlocked it again. Of course, there was no reply. She stared at the screen a little longer, then laughed at herself. It was only a text message. And yet it felt like she had just done something incredibly important.
At the same time, in the Oncology Department's office, Thanh An was looking down at a patient's chart. The room was quiet, filled only with the steady sound of pages turning. The phone beside her suddenly lit up. A soft notification chimed. Thanh An wasn't in the habit of checking messages during work, but something urged her to pick it up. On the screen was a picture of the dish and a message from Tú Linh.
She looked at the picture for a few seconds. Sweet-and-sour stir-fried ribs. Then she looked at the words beneath it. It was a perfectly ordinary question, but for some reason, Thanh An sat there a little longer.
It had been a long time since anyone had asked her such a simple question: Was she coming home for dinner? Thanh An lowered her eyes, and her finger touched the screen.
Thanh An: “Coming home. I can eat it.”
She sent only those three words, set the phone down, and continued reading the chart as if nothing had happened. A few seconds later, the corners of her lips lifted slightly. So slightly that even she didn't notice.
There was a knock at the door.
“An, the patient from Room Three is here.”
Thanh An closed the chart.
“Okay. I'm coming.”
She stood up, straightened her white coat, and walked out of the room. At the bus stop, Tú Linh's phone lit up. She looked down.
“Coming home. I can eat it.”
Linh read it twice, then broke into a sweet, angelic smile. She put her phone away and stood up just as the bus arrived. Outside, it was still an ordinary afternoon—the same hurried crowds, the sound of traffic, and the city's sweltering heat. But somewhere along the way, Tú Linh had gained something new to look forward to. A lunch with someone waiting for her to come home and eat together.
For the first time since leaving the dorm, she began to feel that the place where she was staying for now...
...might truly be becoming a home.