The pace had barely slowed before the horn cut through the room, sharp and final.
Both fighters froze for a split second, instinct still alive in their eyes, before they turned and made their way to their corners.
Gloves dropped. Chests heaved.
Kaito exhaled hard as he sat down, wiping sweat from his brow. .
Across the mat, Chase didn't sit.
He paced.
Smirking. Rolling his shoulders loose. Occasionally glancing toward Kaito like he already knew how the second round would go.
His corner didn't say much. They knew his rhythm was a thing you didn't tamper with. He'd fight how he fought.
But Damon watched as he saw through the show.
He saw the precision underneath the play.
And he knew, if Kaito didn't start pulling the momentum back soon, Chase was going to drown him in style.
Damon dropped to one knee in front of Kaito, his tone calm but direct.
