Even Hiroshi, who usually can't contain himself after a win, stays quiet, towel hanging from his shoulder, mouth half-open in disbelief.
They all look across the ring, toward the red corner, where Junpei is still arguing with his team, his body trembling more from frustration than pain.
"Look at me… look at my feet!" he shouts, stomping one leg on the canvas. "I can still move! Just two more rounds, I…"
"Enough already," Junji says, slipping through the ropes. "It's just an A-license promotion fight. The license is what we came for."
Junpei doesn't answer. His face is tight with despair.
"Come on, Jun," one of the assistants urges. "The result's been announced. Let's get you checked right away."
Junpei glances toward the referee, then the announcer, realizing there's no point arguing anymore.
Still, his legs refuse to move. If he steps out of the ring now, it'll feel final, like he might never climb back in again.
