The next day, at a convenience store.
A faint chill from the fridge washes over Hiroshi's arm as he reaches for a bottle of isotonic drink. He's still in his tracksuit, eyes glazed from the previous night's late pad sessions.
His plan is simple, drink, rice ball, back to the gym before morning drills start.
Then he sees it, the magazine rack by the counter, glossy covers lined like trophies. One of them catches his eye. Bold red letters stretch across the top:
"Ryoma Takeda vs. Kobayashi Ayano — A-License Promotion Bout, Ota City General Gymnasium, Tokyo."
Hiroshi freezes mid-motion.
"Ota Gym?"
He leans closer, blinking to make sure he isn't misreading it. The fluorescent lights buzz faintly overhead, washing everything in that sterile white glow convenience stores always have.
He grabs the magazine, flips through the article. And there it is again, same headline, same photo of Ryoma and Ayano.
