Jin woke before the alarm.
For a moment, he lay still, listening to the quiet of his room. The city outside hadn't fully stirred yet. No traffic. No voices. Just the faint hum of electricity and his own breathing.
His body felt different.
Not heavy—but dense. Like everything inside him had settled into place overnight.
He sat up slowly, rolled his shoulders once, and stood. No stiffness. No nerves buzzing uncontrollably. Just awareness.
Breakfast was simple. Rice. Eggs. Water.
He ate without rush.
His phone buzzed once.
Aoki: TODAY IS THE DAY. IF YOU LOSE I WILL NEVER LET YOU FORGET IT. IF YOU WIN I WILL ALSO NEVER LET YOU FORGET IT.
A second message followed almost immediately.
Kimura: Ignore him. Do what you always do.
Jin allowed himself a small smile and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
The gym was already open when he arrived.
Not crowded. Not loud.
Just familiar.
Shimada paced back and forth like a man preparing for war. Mori organized equipment with obsessive precision. Ippo sat quietly, hands folded, eyes focused on nothing in particular.
Coach Kagawa stood near the ring, cane resting against his shoulder.
"Morning," Jin said.
Kagawa nodded. "You sleep?"
"Yes."
"That's enough."
No speech. No instructions yet.
As they prepared to leave, Jin paused near the supporters board.
The names were still there.
Written plainly. No decoration. No noise.
He didn't read them out loud.
He reached out and touched the edge of the corkboard lightly—just once—then turned away.
The train ride to the venue was louder than he expected.
Aoki shadowboxed in the aisle until Kimura physically sat him down. Shimada kept checking the time every thirty seconds. Ippo stared out the window like he was the one about to fight.
Jin stood quietly near the door, holding the strap, feet planted as the train swayed.
He focused on balance.
The venue smelled like canvas and disinfectant.
Backstage was a maze of narrow hallways, muffled announcements echoing from the arena beyond. Fighters passed each other with their teams, some loud, some silent, all carrying their own weight.
Jin sat on a folding chair while Mori taped his hands.
The sound was rhythmic. Familiar.
"Anything feel off?" Mori asked.
"No."
"Good."
Across the hallway, Jin caught a glimpse of Narumi.
The man stood with his back against the wall, arms crossed, head slightly bowed. His team spoke quietly around him, but Narumi didn't respond. His eyes were forward, unfocused.
Waiting.
Mari approached when Mori finished.
She didn't say anything at first. Just handed Jin a bottle of water.
"Breathe," she said softly.
Jin did.
"Whatever happens," she continued, "don't disappear."
He met her eyes. "I won't."
That was enough.
The announcement echoed through the hallway.
"Junior Welterweight bout—fighters prepare."
Shimada straightened immediately. "THIS IS IT."
Coach Kagawa placed a hand briefly on Jin's shoulder.
"No heroics," he said. "Be exact."
Jin nodded.
The gloves were slipped on. Mouthguard set.
The crowd noise grew louder with each step toward the entrance tunnel. Lights flared at the edge of his vision. The ring was close now—close enough to feel its pull.
Narumi walked out first.
No fanfare. No gestures.
Just forward.
Then Jin's name was called.
He stepped through the curtain.
The lights hit hard.
The ring waited.
Jin climbed the steps, ducked between the ropes, and stood at center canvas. The noise faded slightly, not gone—but distant.
This was the space he'd imagined.
Small.
Honest.
Narumi turned to face him.
They didn't look away.
The referee stepped between them.
"Touch gloves."
Leather met leather.
The bell hadn't rung yet.
But the fight had already begun.
END OF CHAPTER
Author's Note:
Thank you all for reading and sticking with Hajime no Ippo: The Phantom Step! 🙏
Fight night is finally here. If you're enjoying the story, please comment, vote, and add it to your library — your support genuinely keeps this series going.