By the start of the second week, the gym stopped feeling surprised.
That didn't mean it stopped paying attention.
Jin noticed it in small ways. Conversations lowered when he walked past. People paused their routines just long enough to glance at the whiteboard countdown before getting back to work. Even the newer members—faces he didn't fully recognize yet—lingered a little longer when he trained.
Not admiration.
Awareness.
It was subtle, but it was there.
And it was louder than any cheering.
Morning roadwork became routine.
The soreness faded into something familiar—an ache that didn't slow him down, just reminded him he was alive. Jin ran the longer routes now, weaving through quiet neighborhoods and waking streets. Some days Ippo joined him. Other days it was just the sound of his breathing and his shoes against the pavement.
He didn't think much while running.
Thoughts came and went, but he didn't chase them.
That, too, was changing.
The gym, on the other hand, had no intention of staying quiet.
Aoki burst through the doors mid-morning carrying a magazine.
"HEY."
No one responded.
"I SAID—HEY."
Coach Kagawa's cane tapped once against the floor.
Aoki lowered his voice slightly. "There's an article."
Mari looked up from her notes. "About what?"
Aoki slapped the magazine onto the bench and pointed.
Jin's name was there.
Small.
Buried halfway down the page.
But unmistakable.
"Debut win," Aoki read aloud. "Veteran late-bloomer shows composure—"
"Stop," Jin said.
Aoki grinned wider. "—potential dark horse?"
Shimada nearly combusted.
"DARK HORSE?!"
"That's generous," Mori said, scanning the article. "They barely know who you are."
"That's fine," Jin replied.
And it was.
But still—seeing his name printed like that did something strange. It didn't inflate him. It didn't scare him.
It made things feel… real.
Training intensified.
Coach Kagawa adjusted the schedule without ceremony. More mitt work. Longer bag rounds. Situational drills that forced Jin to fight tired, off-balance, uncomfortable.
"Control first," Kagawa said as Jin reset his stance. "Power comes later."
Jin nodded.
The mitts snapped loudly as he worked combinations, sweat dripping into his eyes. His arms burned, but his feet stayed light. He focused on returning to guard cleanly, on breathing through exertion.
Mari watched from outside the ring again.
She still didn't write much.
Sparring returned midweek.
Not light this time.
Mori stood ringside with his arms crossed. "Three rounds. No ego."
Jin nodded and climbed in.
His partner was Sato—technical, sharp, and annoyingly precise.
The bell rang.
Sato tested him immediately with jabs, snapping punches that forced Jin to move. Jin circled, guarding high, absorbing the rhythm rather than fighting it.
The first round belonged to Sato.
The second changed.
Jin adjusted his timing, slipping just enough, stepping inside before retreating. His punches weren't heavy, but they were placed with intent.
By the third round, both men were breathing hard.
When the bell rang, Sato laughed quietly.
"You're annoying," he said.
"Good," Jin replied.
The gym reacted exactly how it always did.
Shimada declared it proof of destiny.
Aoki tried to imitate Jin's footwork and tripped.
Kimura shook his head.
Ippo looked inspired.
Coach Kagawa said nothing.
That mattered most.
Later that evening, Jin sat on the steps outside the gym, cooling down.
Mari joined him, holding two canned coffees.
She handed one over without a word.
"People are talking," she said after a moment.
Jin took a sip. "They always do."
"More than before," she clarified. "Other gyms. Trainers. A few managers."
He glanced at her. "Are you worried?"
Mari shook her head. "No. I'm observant."
He smiled faintly. "That sounds worse."
She smiled back. "It probably is."
They sat in comfortable silence.
"You haven't asked about your opponent," Mari said.
"I will when it matters."
"And when does it matter?"
"When I can't change it."
Mari studied him for a moment. "You're very calm for someone under a countdown."
Jin watched the sky darken. "I don't feel chased."
"That's rare," she said softly.
The opponent name came two days later.
Coach Kagawa called Jin over during cooldown and handed him a sheet.
Jin read it once.
Then again.
Lightweight.
Similar reach.
Aggressive style.
Not flashy.
Not unknown.
"Thoughts?" Kagawa asked.
"He won't wait for me," Jin said.
Kagawa nodded. "Good."
That was all.
The gym absorbed the information quickly.
Shimada immediately disliked the opponent.
Aoki made up a nickname.
Mori began planning counters.
Sato rewatched old footage.
Jin went back to the bag.
The thuds sounded heavier than before.
That night, Jin stayed late again.
The ring was empty. The lights dimmer than usual.
He shadowboxed slowly, visualizing pressure, imagining someone who wouldn't give him space to think.
His breathing stayed steady.
He stopped, hands on his hips, sweat cooling on his skin.
Noise would come.
Crowds.
Opinions.
Expectations.
But right now, there was only silence.
And he wasn't afraid of it anymore.
END OF CHAPTER
Author's Note:
Thank you for reading! 🙏
We're moving deeper into the training arc now, with pressure slowly building both inside and outside the gym. If you're enjoying the story, please comment, vote, and add it to your library — it really helps and motivates me to keep chapters coming longer and stronger.
See you next chapter 🥊