Out on the main floor, the other five pro fighters stop their movements. Ryoma, still clutching his towel, stands slowly from the bench. He looks toward the office, his brow furrowed in confusion and growing discomfort, sensing the storm brewing between the two men who hold his career in their hands.
Inside the cramped office, Nakahara feels a crushing weight in his chest. A part of him screams to defend his honor, that he had actually fought Kurogane's idea from the start, sensing the risk to Ryoma's recovery.
Yet, as the head of this gym, the final signature was his. He had allowed Ryoma's stubbornness to overrule his own veteran instincts. Now the guilt of failing both his fighter and his benefactor paralyzes him.
"I... I have no excuses, Fujimoto-san," Nakahara mutters, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I allowed our shared principles to slip through my fingers. For that, I am truly sorry."
