The words drop like a weight. The air seems to fold in on itself. Nakahara and Hiroshi freeze, their reflections caught faintly in the glass plaque still gleaming on the table. For a long moment, there's no sound but the faint ticking of the wall clock.
"Retiring?" Nakahara finally says, almost disbelieving. His voice comes out rough, like he has to clear something from his throat.
Ryoma nods once. "I've made up my mind."
Hiroshi leans forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping to a whisper. "Ryoma, that's… no, you can't just… You're still at your peak. And the gym needs…"
Nakahara gestures with a hand, stopping him. His eyes stay fixed on Ryoma, searching for something, for doubt, hesitation, anything. But Ryoma's expression doesn't shift.
And so…
"If that's your decision," Nakahara says quietly, "I won't push. It's a hard one, I know. And not just for you."
