The noise from the arena still bleeds faintly into Nakahara's camp locker room. On the flat screen mounted against the wall, the replay runs again, the moment Cortez folds, the final punch, the collapse. It loops without mercy, forcing the scene to linger longer than it needs to.
Ryohei lets out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head as he watches it again. "This guy's insane…" he mutters, then louder, unable to hold it in, "First Miyamoto Rikiya with one punch, and now this? One round? On his first international fight?"
He glances sideways, expecting some kind of reaction. But Kenta doesn't give him one. He keeps moving, working through his shadowboxing in front of the mirror. His stance is solid, his punches structured, but his face stays blank, his focus turned inward rather than toward the screen.
Ryoma, standing not far from the wall, watches the replay just as quietly, his expression no different.
Ryohei clicks his tongue, disappointed. "You two are no fun."
