The bell cuts through the gym, sharp and clean. But Nakahara doesn't say anything right away. He just watches Ryoma step back toward the corner.
Across the ring, Sera looks up at him. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, no words exchange, just a shared understanding settling between them.
Something about that spar didn't sit right. Ryoma looked too cautious, too restrained, the kind of rhythm that makes you wonder whether fatigue is quietly shaping the choices.
Then Nakahara looks back at Ryoma, and his doubt only deepens. Because Ryoma doesn't look tired at all.
His breathing is steady, shoulders loose. He rolls his neck once and shakes out his arms, movements light and natural.
Either he's been restraining himself far more than anyone realizes, or he's learned how to carry fatigue without letting it show, it's hard to tell.
