Before Ryoma's confusion can sink any deeper, the system speaks again, its tone as irritatingly matter-of-fact as ever.
<< Oh, that was a clean counter, I'll give you that. >>
<< But don't flatter yourself. >>
<< Those three punches together? Seven out of ten. >>
Ryoma's eyebrow twitches. "...The hell are you talking about?"
<< That uppercut came almost entirely from your arm. Your legs barely drove it. Your hips barely turned. >>
<< And those two follow-up punches? Same problem. Two arms moving forward. Hardly any weight behind them. >>
<< Even after landing the uppercut, you were afraid he'd force another dual exchange. >>
<< Every ugly little scenario you've been running in that oversized brain of yours... >>
<< ...it made you pull your punches. >>
<< It made you a coward. >>
For a strange moment, Ryoma doesn't even hear the crowd anymore. Instead, he remembers another voice, his own words in countless sparring sessions with Ryohei.
"You're hesitating."
"Scared?"
