On the other side of the ring, Yuichi Soda feels the irony settle like a weight on his chest. Just a minute ago, he'd spoken with full confidence, that Ryoma's tiring himself out, that his legs would burn before the halfway point.
But now, watching Ryoma stand motionless across the ring, gloves loose at his sides, breathing perfectly measured… he realizes just how wrong he was.
It's not recklessness he's seeing. It's control.
All this time, they thought inexperience would be Ryoma's undoing, that a fighter who'd never gone deep into a ten-round war would drain himself chasing an early knockout. That he'd burn out before the halfway bell.
But instead, Ryoma had managed his pace like a seasoned veteran. Three slow, methodical rounds to learn. The fourth, a clean shift in tempo, all offense and movement. Even now, he's slowing down again, not out of fatigue, but choice.
