In the red corner, Coach Koichi doesn't move. The man, who's been grinning since the opening bell with easy confidence, just stands there now. His mouth is half-open, eyes fixed on his fighter.
For a few seconds, it's like the sound has drained out of the world around him.
Then he finally hears the referee's count clearly.
"Four… five…"
Koichi blinks, as if waking from a bad dream. His hands grip the rope, his voice crack through.
"Uchida! Get up!" he shouts, sharp and urgent now. "I know that didn't finish you! Can you hear me, Uchida? Get up!"
On the canvas, Uchida hears him clearly. The pain in his jaw isn't overwhelming. It aches, deep and hot, but it's not what keeps him down.
It's his head, still spinning, tilting, like the ring has been twisted sideways beneath him.
He plants one glove on the mat and pushes. For a moment, something invisible tugs him to the right, a pull he can't explain, like the floor is sliding under his feet.
