#yusof

[This scene got me in a fucking chokehold and I couldn't stop]

“Berapa umur kau?”

The second it leaves his mouth, he winces internally.

Macam interview pulak.

But Hatta doesn’t comment.

“23.”

Yusof pauses mid-slice.

Two years.

Same gap.

His grip tightens slightly around the knife.

Weird.

For a split second, a thought flickers—something absurd, something impossible.

Is there a version of the world where Fakhri was older than him?

He shakes it off, returning to the cutting board.

The questions continue after that—light, almost casual on the surface.

But each one from Hatta skirts dangerously close to something deeper.

Too close.

Yusof answers carefully, always just enough, never too much.

In return, he learns small things.

Hatta prefers Wonda Coffee over Nescafe.

He’s been practicing silat since he was a kid—of course he has. The way he carries himself already says enough.

Normal things.

Safe things.

Until—

“Kau setuju ke dengan apa yang diorang buat dalam Tarung tu?”

The knife stops.

Just for a second.

Yusof stares at the half-sliced tomato in front of him, juice bleeding slowly across the board.

Isa.

That bastard.

Obsessive. Twisted. The kind of man who feeds off fear like it’s oxygen.

Too similar to someone Yusof used to know.

Too similar to someone he used to be around.

His jaw tightens.

Fakhri—Hatta—would’ve hated Isa.

No.

Would hate him.

Some things don’t change across lifetimes. Yusof’s sure of that.

Still… past is past.

Whatever Kahar did—

That’s not him anymore.

And Hatta?

Hatta doesn’t have to hate Yusof just because Fakhri hated Kahar.

Right?

Yusof exhales, forcing a small laugh as he turns the stove knob, the soft tick-tick-foosh of the flame filling the space.

“Takde la aku fikir lama sangat pasal tu,” he says, voice lighter now. “Aku bukan siapa-siapa pun dalam Tarung ni. Paling-paling pun kerja macam Grab je.”

A joke.

An easy out.

He risks a glance over his shoulder.

Hatta’s smiling.

It was a small smile. Subtle.

But it’s there.

And for some reason, that’s enough to make something warm and giddy bloom in Yusof’s chest.

Maybe—

Maybe this time, things can be different.

Screw the hierarchy. Screw the fights.

Maybe he can do this right.

Yusof reaches for a patty, heartbeat just a little faster now.

“Kau suka burger ayam ke daging—”

He falters mid-sentence.

What comes out instead is softer, almost tentative.

“Kalau ayam… okay tak?”

There’s no pause.

No hesitation.

“Ayam okay je.”

—

Yusof freezes.

Completely.

The world narrows to that one sentence—those exact words, spoken in that exact tone.

Something cracks open in his chest.

Slowly—too slowly—he turns.

Hatta’s looking at him.

And there’s something on his face that Yusof can’t name..

It hits Yusof all at once, cold and electric.

Oh. Oh.

Shit.

There’s no time to think, but instinct kicks in anyway—

His hand snaps to the stove.

Click.

Flame off.

Good.

Because—

The cup flies.

“—OI!”

Yusof jerks back just as the plastic cup whizzes past his face, water splashing across the wall. Before he can recover—

SKREEECH—

The small plastic table is shoved straight into him.

“WOI WOI WOI—!”

He stumbles back, barely catching it before it slams into his waist. His grip slips, the knife still in his hand—

No.

Bad idea.

Without thinking, Yusof flings it sideways—clack!—it disappears under the cabinet just as—

A kick slices through the air where his head was a second ago.

“Gila kau—?!”

Hatta doesn’t answer.

Of course he doesn’t.

His eyes—

Same.

Exactly the same.

Yusof’s heart lurches.

“Fakhri—” he blurts, voice cracking, “—jap—”

Hatta lunges.

No hesitation.

“DIAM LA!”

Yusof ducks, barely avoiding a strike to his jaw, arms coming up on reflex. His body moves before his brain catches up—blocking, shifting, stepping back.

Silat.

Muay Thai.

Old habits. Old life.

“Kau dengar dulu—”

Another swing—fast.

Hatta’s attacks were cleaner than before. Where previously, teenage Fakhri used street smarts and experience tousles in the streets, like a rabid dog ready to attack.

Yusof barely manages to parry, stumbling sideways into the counter.

Hatta— Yusof dodges another kick at his solar plexus.

Hatta is disciplined.

Every movement tight. Efficient. Trained.

“Woi—!” Yusof pants, dodging another hit, “kau gila ke apa—?!”

No response.

Just another attack.

Yusof blocks—too slow.

THUD.

The punch lands clean across his face.

His head snaps to the side.

For a second, everything rings.

He staggers back, hand flying to his cheek, vision swimming as he tries to refocus.

And suddenly—

Déjà vu.

A hall.

A crowd.

Blood in his mouth.

The first time they fought.

Back when he was—

Kahar.

Yusof exhales sharply, spitting a bit to the side.

Then he laughs.

A little breathless. A little unhinged.

“Kan aku cakap…” he mutters, straightening up, eyes locking onto Hatta again—

A familiar glint returning.

New Post has been published on http://www.therakyatpost.com/news/2015/03/19/loyal-buddy-stays-by-his-friends-side/

Loyal buddy stays by his friend's side

TELUK INTAN, March 19, 2015:

Boilerman Mohd Yusof Rohani had to struggle to raise his six daughters. But despite his poverty, he has never forgotten his childhood friend and has been caring for him like a family member.

The 45-year-old was reported in Harian Metro recently as being a loyal friend to double amputee R. Doraisamy, 65, who is also blind due to diabetes.

True to the motto of “never leave a man behind”, Mohd Yusof, who speaks fluent Tamil, has been taking care of Doraisamy, more so for the last 15 years after he had his first amputation.

After his amputation, Doraisamy became a prisoner to his wheelchair and Mohd Yusof was his window to the world.

Living in the same oil palm estate in Kg Selabak here, the two of them had known each other since their teenage days.

“We used to hang out together, chit chatting and just going around, and sometimes we ended up getting involved in all sorts of misdemeanors, like all boys often do.

“Of course, there were no gadgets of any kind back then, but we really had a good time.

“We always had face-to-face interactions which helped to bond our friendship,” Doraisamy told The Rakyat Post when met at his home recently.

He said many of the friends in their circle eventually moved out of town when they were old enough to get better jobs in bigger cities.

They lost contact with one another, except for Doraisamy, who worked in Teluk Intan as a carpenter, and Mohd Yusof.

Double amputee R. Doraisamy, 65, is also blind due to diabetes. — TRP pic by Mokhsin Zamani

Doraisamy’s brother-in-law A. Selvarajan said many had praised Mohd Yusof for his kindness in taking care of friends, even though he himself is poor and has little.

“Despite having to work six days a week as a boilerman, he still devoted time and resources to lift up Doraisamy’s spirits.

“Every week, without fail he would send Doraisamy to hospital or take him around town for ‘sight-seeing’ and tea sessions at the kopitiam.

“His friendship with Doraisamy is something of a family bond,” said Selvarajan, 54.

Together with his wife, who is Doraisamy’s younger sister, they struggle to take care of Doraisamy with their combined salary of about RM70 a day as oil palm plantation workers.

For Mohd Yusof, “leaving no man behind” is not a hard ideal to put into practice.

He knows well there are limits to what he can do due to his own commitment to his family.

“When you have a big family to feed, you can’t always be by the side of your friends in need. You can’t worry too much whether they’re happy with how they’re doing.

“You just try your best to help. It’s like keeping up a promise of not leaving anyone behind and not letting them fall into despair.”

He added that another close friend of Doraisamy, known simply as Ah Choong, had been bringing him his medications.

Ah Choong had known Doraisamy while working together as carpenters.

However, Ah Choong’s diabetic condition worsened in recent months and he now can no longer move around freely, he said.

Mohd Yusof was surprised that his acts of service to his friend had drawn so much attention from the public after the story went viral on Facebook.

“I tried to show a newspaper cutting to Doraisamy, but sadly he won’t be able to see it.

“That would have lifted his spirits,” he said, adding that they had wanted to travel abroad to see the world but never had the chance.

They just could not afford it in their younger days as air travel was quite expensive back then, especially for working class people like them.

Mohd Yusof also shared how Doraisamy would lend him money from his RM300 a month social welfare aid whenever he was in dire financial need.

“He would never accept it when I returned the money. I had to quietly put the money in his prosthetic leg or in his pillow instead,” said Mohd Yusof, who now stays in Langkap.

He agreed that close friendships between different races wasn’t uncommon, but these were becoming infrequent in Malaysia’s multiracial society due to seemingly increasing racial polarisation.

He said this was true especially among the younger generation, which was among the reasons why he sent his children to study in a Chinese school.

“It’s more expensive, but I really want them to get to know friends from other communities.