Jason's eyes widened in shock as his body twisted from the force of the punch. Time seemed to slow as he fell, hitting the canvas with a resounding thud.
The arena fell silent for a heartbeat.
Then, chaos. The crowd exploded into cheers and screams, the noise deafening as they rose to their feet. Zahra and Farid were practically climbing over each other in excitement.
"He did it! He actually did it!" Zahra yelled, shaking Farid by the shoulders.
"I knew it! My chicken rice strategy worked!" Farid howled triumphantly, tears streaming down his face.
Crystall's sketchbook fell from her lap as she covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes brimming with emotion. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as she watched the referee begin the countdown.
On the canvas, Jason blinked up at the ceiling lights, dazed but conscious. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself, his vision swimming. "Not bad at all."
He turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of Ali standing above him, his chest heaving as he struggled to stay upright. Even in defeat, Jason felt a strange sense of pride.
"Eight… nine… ten!"
The referee's voice echoed through the arena, and the bell rang, signaling the end of the match. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner and the new Perak Youth Boxing Champion… ALI HASSAN!"
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers as Ali's hand was raised in victory. His legs nearly gave out beneath him, but he stood tall, his gray eyes shining with pride and exhaustion.
He scanned the crowd, spotting Zahra and Farid jumping up and down like maniacs. Crystall's tearful smile warmed him, and for a moment, the pain in his body faded.
Jason, now sitting up, gave Ali a small nod from across the ring. It was an unspoken acknowledgment, a silent promise that their rivalry was far from over.
As Ali stepped out of the ring, the roar of the crowd still echoing in his ears, he glanced at Coach Rahman, who stood with his arms crossed, a rare smile on his face.
"You did good, kid," Rahman said, his voice gruff but filled with pride.
Ali grinned, his heart swelling. "It's only the beginning."
Somewhere in the distance, the announcer declared Ali as Perak's representative for the upcoming Western-North Malaysia Championship. The weight of the future pressed lightly on his shoulders, but for now, he allowed himself a moment of celebration.
With friends by his side, a championship belt in his hands, and a newfound confidence in his heart, Ali knew one thing for sure—this was only the start of his journey.
…
The cheers were deafening, reverberating through the packed arena as Ali stood on the podium, the weight of the championship trophy in his hands. The gold gleamed under the stadium lights, but it wasn't just the trophy that felt heavy—it was everything that had led to this moment. The sacrifices, the grueling training sessions, the doubts, and the countless punches both thrown and endured.
Ali turned to see Zahra and Farid screaming his name from the stands, practically climbing over the railing in their excitement. Crystall stood beside them, her hands clasped in front of her, a radiant smile lighting up her face. It wasn't just a victory; it was a culmination of everything he had fought for.
As Ali stepped off the podium, Jason approached him. His eyes were calm, though a faint bruise marred his cheek from Ali's final punch. Jason extended a hand, his expression unreadable.
"You earned it," Jason said simply.
Ali hesitated for a moment, then clasped Jason's hand firmly. There was no need for words—the handshake was enough to convey the mutual respect that had been forged in the heat of battle.
"You pushed me to my limit," Ali admitted, meeting Jason's gaze. "I wouldn't be standing here without you."
Jason smirked faintly, his usual confidence returning. "Next time, don't get too comfortable. I'll be back."
Ali grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Back in the locker room, chaos reigned as Zahra and Farid spearheaded the victory celebration.
"Championship dance-off! Let's go!" Zahra declared, cranking up music on her phone.
Farid, ever the instigator, immediately jumped into an exaggerated shuffle, flailing his arms like a malfunctioning robot. Zahra responded with a spin that nearly sent her crashing into a bench, prompting peals of laughter from everyone present.
"You guys are insane," Ali said, shaking his head but unable to suppress a chuckle.
Crystall sat quietly on the bench, sketchbook in hand, her gaze flickering between Ali and the lively scene around him. She waited until the commotion had settled before approaching him.
"I have something for you," she said softly, holding out the sketchbook.
Ali took it, flipping to the page she had marked. His breath caught.
The sketch was of him standing in the ring, triumphant yet battered, his expression fierce and determined. The details were astonishing—the sweat on his brow, the tension in his muscles, and the gleam of the championship trophy in his hand.
"It's incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."
Crystall's cheeks flushed. "I wanted you to have something to remember this moment by."
Ali looked at her, his gray eyes soft. "I won't forget. Not the moment, and not the person who believed in me."
Leaning against the doorway, Coach Rahman observed the celebration with his usual stoicism. But when Ali approached him, holding the trophy, a rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"You did well, Ali," Rahman said, his gruff voice carrying a hint of pride. "But don't let this go to your head. There's always someone better out there, waiting to knock you down."
Ali nodded, his respect for his coach deepened by the words. "I know. This is just the beginning."
Rahman's eyes twinkled. "Good. Because if you think this was tough, the Western-North Malaysia Championship will make this look like a sparring match."
Ali felt a surge of determination. The journey was far from over.