Fist Of Fate: Child of Perak

Crystall smiled faintly, reaching out to place a hand over his. "Thank you for telling me. I just need some time to figure things out, okay?"

Ali nodded again, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. "Yeah. Of course. Take all the time you need."

Outside the library, Zahra and Farid crouched behind a stack of encyclopedias, peeking around the corner like a pair of amateur detectives.

"Did he say it? Did he confess?" Zahra whispered excitedly.

Farid squinted. "I think so. Either that, or he's auditioning for a stammering competition."

Zahra rolled her eyes. "He confessed, you dummy. Look at his face—it's bright red."

As Crystall stood and gathered her things, Farid leaned closer. "Do you think she's gonna say yes?"

"I don't know," Zahra said, smirking. "But either way, we've got to celebrate Ali's bravery."

"Agreed," Farid said with a grin. "Let's go embarrass him."

Before leaving, Crystall hesitated. "Ali?"

"Yeah?"

"I know how hard it must've been for you to say all that. So... I guess it's only fair I tell you something too."

Ali blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Crystall shifted her weight, her gaze dropping to the table. "Everyone thinks I have it all figured out, but... I don't. Balancing my schoolwork, family expectations, and my own dreams—it's hard. Sometimes, I feel like I'm letting everyone down no matter what I do."

Ali stared at her, taken aback. He had never seen Crystall look so vulnerable.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... you're not the only one trying to figure things out," Crystall said softly.

Ali nodded, a newfound understanding settling over him. "Thanks for telling me. I mean it."

Crystall smiled, her usual confidence returning. "Well, I should go. But, Ali?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't stop being you, okay?"

Ali managed a small grin. "I'll try."

As Crystall walked away, Ali leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. His heart was still racing, but at least he hadn't completely fallen apart.

"Well..." he muttered to himself, "at least I didn't pass out."

From behind the bookshelf, Zahra and Farid burst into applause.

"Bravo, Ali!" Zahra said, stepping out with an exaggerated bow. "A truly heroic confession!"

"Ten out of ten," Farid added. "You only knocked over one stack of books—way better than I expected."

Ali groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Can't I have one moment of peace?"

"Nope," Zahra said cheerfully. "Now let's go celebrate your 'sort-of success' with ice cream."

As his friends dragged him out of the library, Ali couldn't help but laugh. Despite the uncertainty, he felt lighter—like he had taken the first step toward something bigger.

---

The gym was eerily quiet that evening, the usual hum of activity replaced by the rhythmic thud of a punching bag. Ali had come for extra practice, determined to refine his footwork. He tightened his wraps, mentally preparing for a grueling solo session. But as he stepped inside, he stopped in his tracks.

Jason was there, shirtless and glistening with sweat, pounding a heavy bag with a ferocity that made Ali wince. His movements were precise, powerful, and full of barely-contained frustration.

Ali considered slipping out unnoticed, but then a sharp voice broke the silence.

"Do you think this is good enough? Do you think you are good enough?"

Ali froze. It wasn't Jason speaking—it was an older man, his tone cold and cutting. Ali recognized him immediately: Jason's father, a stern, impeccably dressed man who exuded authority.

Jason stopped mid-swing, breathing hard. "I'm trying, Dad. I'm doing everything you've asked."

"Trying isn't enough," his father snapped, stepping closer. "You have to win. Anything less is failure. Do you want to embarrass this family?"

Jason's fists clenched, and for a moment, Ali thought he might hit his father instead of the bag. But Jason stayed silent, his jaw tightening as he stared at the ground.

"Do better," his father said coldly before turning and leaving without another word.

Ali ducked behind a column, his heart racing. He had never seen Jason like this—angry, vulnerable, and utterly defeated.

Once the gym door slammed shut, Jason let out a bitter laugh and slumped onto the bench. "Perfect. Just perfect," he muttered, wiping his face with a towel.

Ali hesitated. He knew he shouldn't get involved, but before he could stop himself, he stepped forward.

"Jason?"

Jason's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?"

Ali shrugged awkwardly. "Uh, just practicing. But, uh... are you okay?"

Jason laughed again, this time more bitterly. "Why do you care? You're probably enjoying this, right? The big bad rival, not so perfect after all."

Ali frowned. "I don't think that. I mean... everyone's got stuff they're dealing with."

Jason looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. "You wouldn't get it."

"Try me," Ali said, sitting down on the opposite bench.

For a moment, Jason stayed silent, then finally spoke. "My dad's a former national champion. He's been training me since I could walk. To him, anything less than winning is unacceptable. Do you know what it's like to be told every day that you're not enough?"

Ali shook his head, his chest tightening with unexpected sympathy.

Jason ran a hand through his fiery red hair. "Everyone thinks I've got it easy. But the truth is... I'm tired. I don't even know if I want this anymore."

Ali didn't know what to say. He had always seen Jason as untouchable—confident, skilled, and unshakable. But now, he realized Jason was just as human as he was.

The next day, Zahra cornered Ali at lunch, her phone in hand. "Guess what I found out? Jason's dad is the Darius Tan. Former heavyweight champ and notorious perfectionist."

Ali groaned. "Zahra, please tell me you're not putting this on your blog."

"Why not? People would eat it up," she argued.

"Because it's personal," Ali said firmly. "Jason doesn't need more people talking about his life."

Zahra sighed dramatically but relented. "Fine. But you owe me an exclusive interview for being so noble."

Later, Farid joined them, munching on fries. "You know, we could use this against Jason. Maybe psych him out before a match?"

Ali glared at him. "Yeah, because ruining someone's self-esteem is the perfect way to win."

Farid grinned sheepishly. "Okay, bad idea. Forget I said anything."