Meanwhile, in Nakahara Boxing Gym.
Ryoma has just finished his last round of pad work, slipping under a right hook and snapping up with a counter cross that lands sharp against the mitt.
"Sharp, but too high," Coach Nakahara says flatly, lowering the pads. "Sekino is not that tall. He's moving up from Super Featherweight, remember?"
Ryoma sighs, nods once, and wipes sweat from his brow. His movements are calm, but the frustration flickers behind his eyes.
Across the gym, Aramaki is shadowboxing in front of the mirror, shirt soaked, whispering his own counts under his breath.
Kobe works the double-end bag with a steady rhythm, while Ryohei sits against the wall, half-watching, half-scrolling through his phone.
And Kenta? Well, he's more busy dealing with the new comers than training for himself.
Moments later, the sound of the door sliding open breaks the rhythm.
Everyone looks up.
