The arena now buzzes with restless cheer; people shuffling down as latecomers slip into newly emptied seats. It's the peculiar joy of a sold-out night: those who made it inside celebrating for beating the door without tickets.
They're the opportunists who failed with the secondary markets outside the arena, and waited on hope alone for this final chance, the moment when someone else's disappointment makes room.
Amongst them are Kaede and Aemi, moving with the current. They edge sideways between knees and bags as Aemi scans for space like a hawk.
"See?" Aemi whispers brightly. "I told you. There are always seats. Sometimes the supporters of losing camp leaves early, nerves can't take it."
She grins like this was strategy all along.
But Kaede barely hears her.
Her gaze is still fixed on the ring, on Ryoma standing beneath the lights, gloves raised, acknowledging the crowd with slow authority.
