The first knockdown was deliberate, a way to buy time and slip free from the corner. With a wide lead on points, Ryoma figured one trip to the canvas wouldn't matter.
But now it does. If he down again after this one, the third could sway the judges, or worse, convince the referee to stop it outright.
And if his body betrays him again… maybe he won't get up at all. Even now, rising at eight, his legs feel carved from stone.
"Damn it! My legs..."
"…Nine!"
Ryoma steadies himself, lifting a hand. "Wait… I can fight!"
The referee narrows his eyes, unmoved. "Come to me."
Ryoma steps forward, raising both gloves. "See? Nothing serious. Just using the count. It's strategy, that's all."
The ref's expression darkens. "Don't play games. You go down again, deliberate or not, I'll stop this."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it!" Ryoma snaps, forcing a crooked grin.
Aramaki calls from across the ring, voice sharp. "Enough talking… let him fight!"
