The moment Rikiya settles onto the stool, Coach Okada drapes a towel over his shoulders before wiping the sweat from his face.
As familiar as the routine is, Okada cannot ignore the difference this time. He cannot remember the last time his fighter was breathing this heavily after only one round. The extra sweat means little to most, but to the man who knows Rikiya best, it is impossible to ignore.
"Can you believe it?" Rikiya says quietly.
His voice carries no frustration, but the rhythm of his breathing is slightly heavier than usual, forcing small pauses between his words.
"Back then, I could find his face almost whenever I wanted. This round... after everything I threw… what got through? Four light jabs... and that lead hook I traded for an overhand to the collarbone."
Okada listens without interrupting. His attention is fixed not only on the words, but on Rikiya's breathing rhythm while speaking.
