Kenta drives the van smoothly, slow and steady. But his mind is anything but calm. For days now, he's been waiting for the right moment, waiting to ask Coach Nakahara about his own fight.
He knows the timing has never been ideal. But now the purse bid is done. They've secured the right to host the fight. If there is ever a moment, this has to be it.
Still, his nature wins out. Instead, he glances up at the rearview mirror, watching Nakahara's reflection. The tension on the coach's face hasn't fully faded yet, his brow still tight, his posture rigid even in the seat.
Then Nakahara finally leans back, eyes close. A long breath leaves him, heavy, like air released from a sealed chamber.
Kenta hears it clearly. Now, this could be the right moment. But before he can speak, Sera beats him first.
"We need to move fast," Sera says. "Arena booking should be our top priority."
Kenta flicks his eyes sideways, his expression flat, irritation barely flickering beneath the surface.
