Coach Kiet rests his forearms against the railing and turns his attention back to the ring below, where the rhythm of training has shifted into something heavier and more punishing than drills meant for speed or polish.
Down on the canvas, Thanid Kouthai braces his stance while a partner steps in close, driving alternating knees into the midsection and ribs with practiced cruelty, each impact answered by a short breath forced out of hardened lungs.
The sound is dull and intimate, flesh meeting flesh without the echo of gloves or pads, the kind of conditioning most kickboxers accept early because it teaches the body not to panic when pain arrives unannounced.
Kiet watches the fighter's abdomen tense and release with every blow, noticing how the man never breaks eye contact with his partner, never negotiates with discomfort.
He has seen that same refusal to negotiate before, though not in this gym. And the memory surfaces without invitation as his gaze stays fixed on the ring.
