Time flew by in the blink of an eye, and just like that, half of September had already passed.


    Over the past weekend, a light drizzle had brought some relief to the sweltering coastal heat of Nhan Hoa Town, making the air cool and pleasant—finally, it felt like autumn.


    The ocean breeze occasionally swept through the streets, carrying golden almond tree leaves into the air. At times, this created a breathtaking scene—a flurry of falling leaves, like something out of a romantic dream.


    Of course, to the sanitation workers, it was less of a dream and more of a nightmare—having to clean up all that ‘romance’.


    Autumn had long been considered the most beautiful season in Vietnam. Throughout history, poets and musicians had immortalized its fleeting beauty in timeless verses and melodies.


    Even Nam, a supposedly logic-driven math nerd, couldn’t help but pause for a moment, stunned by the crisp, azure sky of an early autumn morning as he stepped out of his apartment.


    And it wasn’t just Nam—it seemed like everyone was caught in a daydream, lulled by the autumn air.


    About halfway to school, Nam suddenly heard a loud scream from afar.


    “AAAAAHHHH!”


    A girl with fluffy, shoulder-length hair was riding a bicycle far too big for her, screaming her lungs out—or maybe even crying in terror—as she came barreling down the slope behind Nam like a lightning bolt.


    She was probably still learning how to ride, given that she had zero control over her speed and no clue how to use the brakes properly on a steep road like this.


    Luckily, at this early hour, there were no cars or pedestrians around. She had the road all to herself, which significantly reduced the chances of an accident involving others.


    Somehow, she managed to keep her bike going in a straight line as she whizzed past Nam’s position.


    But at the end of the slope, the bicycle suddenly wobbled, veering side to side before crashing headfirst into a brick wall nearby.


    BANG!


    It sounded painful.


    Without thinking, Nam rushed over.


    After such a spectacular crash landing, the girl wasn’t moving at all.


    (Oh, that’s my school’s uniform.)


    As he approached, Nam saw that she was lying face-down, completely still, with her oversized bicycle pinning her down. Her backpack had burst open, sending books and papers flying everywhere.


    Her face turned beet red when Nam got closer. Frantically, she waved her hands, as if trying to shoo him away. It seemed like she was more embarrassed about her clumsy accident than she was concerned about any injuries.


    Nam had to hold back a chuckle at her childish behavior. Without another word, he lifted the heavy bicycle off her, propped it against the wall, and then crouched down to check on her.


    For a fleeting second, Nam’s heart pounded harder than ever.


    He was momentarily dazed—completely taken aback by her large, bright brown eyes, shimmering like a crystal-clear autumn lake, framed by long, delicate lashes. It took every ounce of mental effort for Nam to snap out of it and regain control of his thoughts.


    “Are you okay? Can you stand?”


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    “I… I’m fine.”


    The girl scrambled to her feet, completely ignoring Nam, as she hurried to gather her scattered books and shove them back into her bag.


    (How rude!)


    Nam thought to himself as he caught the badge on her school uniform confirmed that she was a 10th grader at Nhan Hoa High School.


    Honestly, if it weren’t for her school uniform, people might have mistaken her for a middle schooler. Even standing upright, she was tiny, barely 1m53 at most. Her round face still held traces of youthful innocence, with rosy cheeks and smooth, fair skin.


    The girl rushed over to her bike, quickly hopping back onto the seat—a clear sign that she wasn’t actually injured.


    Before pedaling off, she hesitated, turning back toward Nam.


    “T-Thank you…!”


    She awkwardly stammered out her gratitude.


    But before Nam could respond, she had already sped away—even though it was way too early to be in such a rush.


    And yet, her steering was still shaky. This time, she didn’t jump off—she carefully dismounted, as if trying to hide some pain.


    Nam walked over, gently grabbing the handlebars from her hands. Then, he sat on the seat himself, causing the girl to stare at him in confusion.


    “I’ll give you a ride to school. Hop on.”


    At his offer, her cheeks flushed pink again. Her soft pink lips curled slightly—almost forming a smile. Her eyes, already captivating, seemed to shine even brighter.


    She didn’t say anything, but she climbed onto the back seat, resting her tiny hands lightly on the hem of Nam’s uniform for balance.


    From behind Nam, a faint floral scent drifted through the air. It was soft, delicate, carrying a sense of peace and familiarity—the exact same lily fragrance he had noticed that night when he was burning up with fever in the hospital.


    Nam let out a sigh.


    “What’s wrong?”


    The girl’s voice reached him from behind.


    Now that she was no longer stammering in nervousness, her true voice was revealed—childlike, yet astonishingly clear and pure, like the voice of an angel from his dream.


    “Nothing…”


    Nam murmured, almost to himself.


    And with that, they rode in silence, passing through golden showers of falling leaves, beneath the crisp, breathtaking autumn sky.


    …


    That was just the first surprise of the day.


    The second was seeing Vuong actually sitting in his assigned seat from the very first period—for once.


    Even though he was still trapped between two real-life girls—not 2D illustrations or 3D models—his mood seemed noticeably better than usual. He even winked at Nam and gave him a thumbs-up.


    And how surprising it was when Nam followed Vuong’s gaze—his deskmate had finally returned after being absent for so long.


    That meant no more elbow bumps from Vuong’s ridiculously long left arm, which had ruined Nam’s handwriting countless times.


    And for once, Nam could fully focus on class, without being distracted by Vuong’s never-ending comedy routine.


    The third, final, and most shocking surprise?


    Turns out, Nguyen Ho Thu was none other than the girl with those clear brown eyes, looking just like a middle schooler, whom Nam had given a ride to school on his bicycle this morning.