Chase moved first.
He didn't explode forward. He didn't rush the center. He strolled into range with a bounce in his step, hands low, chin slightly tilted, like he had all the time in the world.
Kaito didn't bite. His stance was crisp, shoulders high, chin tucked, feet set in that narrow, balanced frame he always used. He didn't move until he had to.
Chase threw a lazy jab. More a flick than a strike.
Kaito didn't react, so Chase tried again. This time a little faster, same angle. Kaito leaned back an inch, just enough. He watched Chase's eyes instead of his hands.
Chase grinned.
He shifted his feet with a quick switch-step, then launched a snappy front kick to the body. It slapped off Kaito's guard, light but sharp, just enough to test the range.
Kaito adjusted his footing, still not engaging. Chase circled left and fired a hook to the body, too wide, on purpose. A slap, not a dig.
He was playing.