For a long moment Hiroshi doesn't move. He simply waits, watching, waiting for the fog in his eyes to clear. Then he reaches down and lift him carefully, one arm bracing his back.
But Aramaki's legs buckle, his balance still falters. Hiroshi has to take his weight, guiding him down from the ring ropes. Kenta and Ryohei slip in quickly, one on each side, steadying him as though he might collapse again at any step.
And the door opens. Nakahara steps back into the gym, and his face tightens the instant he sees Aramaki, pale and unsteady, being helped down from the apron. He strides forward at once, worry shadowing his eyes.
"What happened?" His voice cuts sharp across the silence. "Don't tell me he sparred with Ryoma?"
No one answers. Hiroshi is too focused on guiding Aramaki to the bench, laying him flat with deliberate care.
"Stay still," Hiroshi murmurs. "Don't force anything. Breathe. I'll get you some water."
