Between rounds, the atmosphere at Kōrakuen Hall was electric. The crowd was buzzing with excitement after witnessing such a dominant first round from the debutant.
In the red corner, Ippo sat on his stool, breathing steadily despite the intense pace he'd maintained. Kamogawa stood in front of him, but instead of praise, the old coach wore a stern expression.
"You've got him on the ropes," Kamogawa said gruffly. "But what in the hell are you doing holding back your punches?"
Ippo blinked in confusion. "Holding back? But Coach, I thought I was fighting well—"
"Fighting well?" Kamogawa's voice carried an edge of frustration. "Kid, you're unconsciously limiting your power. You're a certified power puncher—someone like you should've had Oda down and out with the first clean shot you landed."
The words hit Ippo like a revelation. He looked down at his gloves, then back at his coach.
"I... I didn't realize I was doing that."
"Of course you didn't. Your body's trying to be cautious, trying not to hurt him too badly. But this is professional boxing, not sparring practice."
From behind Kamogawa, Takamura leaned in with his typical bluntness. "Coach is right, kid. I've seen you hit the heavy bag harder than you hit Oda tonight. You knocked out Miyata in sparring, but you're treating this guy with kid gloves."
Aoki nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Remember when you first hit the bag at the gym? You almost knocked it off the chain!"
"This is your professional debut," Kamogawa continued, his voice serious. "Show them what real power looks like. Stop holding back and finish this fight properly."
Ippo felt something shift inside him as the words sank in. He had been unconsciously pulling his punches, his natural kindness making him hesitant to unleash his full devastating power on another human being.
"Yes, Coach," Ippo said, his voice carrying new determination. "I understand."
Across the ring, the scene in Oda's corner was far more desperate. Mikami worked frantically to revive his fighter's spirits while treating the damage from the body shots.
"Listen to me," Odas Coach said urgently. "You survived the worst he had to offer. His power isn't as bad as we thought—"
But Oda shook his head weakly. "You didn't feel those punches, Coach. That kid... he's on a completely different level."
"Don't talk like that! You can still win this!"
Oda looked across the ring at Ippo, who was receiving calm instructions from Kamogawa. There was something different about the young fighter now, a resolve that hadn't been there before.
"He's been holding back," Oda realized with growing dread. "All that power, all that technique, and he wasn't even fighting at full strength."
DING!
Round two began, and immediately the crowd could sense something had changed. Ippo's movements carried a different energy—more purposeful, more dangerous.
Oda tried to start aggressively again, throwing a desperate combination to try and catch Ippo off guard.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
But Ippo's defensive mastery was even more pronounced now. He slipped the punches with minimal effort, his head movement making Oda's attacks look amateur in comparison.
"Now," Ippo thought as he saw his opening, "I'll show him what real power feels like."
Oda threw a wild right hand, putting everything behind it in a last-ditch effort to turn the fight around. But as the punch extended toward Ippo's head, time seemed to slow.
Ippo simply leaned back slightly, letting the punch sail harmlessly past his face. Then, with perfect timing and devastating intent, he stepped forward and unleashed everything he had been holding back.
The right hook that followed carried not just his natural strength, but the full weight of his training, his determination, and the unleashed power that Kamogawa had demanded he show.
CRACK!
The sound of the punch landing was like thunder. Oda's head snapped to the side with violent force, his eyes immediately rolling back as consciousness fled his body.
He collapsed to the canvas like a marionette with its strings cut, hitting the mat with a dull thud that echoed through the suddenly silent arena.
The referee immediately began his count, but it was obvious to everyone that Oda wasn't getting up from this one.
"One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!"
DING! DING! DING!
"It's over!" the referee announced, raising Ippo's hand. "Winner by knockout... IPPO MAKUNOUCHI!"
The arena erupted in cheers as Ippo stood over his fallen opponent, breathing heavily but showing no signs of fatigue. The knockout had been so clean, so devastating, that even the veteran boxing fans in attendance were left stunned.
Kamogawa climbed into the ring and approached his young fighter with something approaching satisfaction on his usually stern face.
"How does it feel to win?" he asked simply.
Ippo looked down at Oda, who was slowly being helped to his feet by the medical staff, then back at his coach.
"It feels... different than I expected," Ippo replied honestly. "Overwhelming, but also..."
"Right?" Kamogawa suggested.
"Yes. It feels right."
From the corner, Takamura's voice boomed across the ring. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! NOW THAT'S THE KID I REMEMBER!"
"Did you see that punch?" Aoki was practically bouncing with excitement. "One shot! Game over!"
"The kid's a monster!" Kimura added, shaking his head in amazement. "That wasn't just power—that was perfect technique behind devastating force!"
----
In the shadows near the arena entrance, a familiar figure had been watching the entire fight with intense interest. As the crowd celebrated Ippo's victory, Ichiro Miyata stepped out of the darkness, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"So you've found your path, Ippo," Miyata thought, his eyes fixed on the victor in the ring. "You've become the monster we all knew you could be."
The promise they'd made about meeting at the Rookie King Tournament suddenly felt more meaningful. This wasn't the same boy he'd sparred with months ago—this was a completely different fighter, one who had found his true strength.
Miyata turned and disappeared back into the crowd, but the smile remained on his face.
"The next time we meet, it will truly be a battle between equals."
-----
As the medical staff finished checking on Oda, the defeated fighter found himself face to face with Ippo near the center of the ring.
"Thank you," Ippo said quietly, bowing respectfully to his opponent.
Oda looked at him with genuine confusion. "You're thanking me? I should be the one thanking you."
"What do you mean?"
Oda's expression grew thoughtful as he struggled to find the words. "I... I underestimated the art of boxing. I thought it was just about being tough, about having natural talent. But watching you fight, feeling that power... I didn't realize boxing could be this exciting, this pure."
He paused, touching his jaw where Ippo's final punch had landed.
"You put your heart and soul into every technique, every movement. That's what real boxing looks like, isn't it?"
Ippo nodded, understanding what Oda was trying to say. "Boxing is about more than just winning or losing. It's about pushing yourself beyond your limits."
"Exactly," Oda said with a weak smile. "You showed me what I've been missing all these years."
----
As the post-fight interviews and medical checks concluded, Oda made his way to the arena exit where Reiko was waiting. He braced himself for the worst—after all, she'd threatened to leave him if he lost.
"Reiko, I—"
"You were incredible out there," she interrupted, surprising him completely.
"But I lost. I got knocked out in the second round."
"I don't care that you lost," she said firmly, taking his hand. "I care that you finally fought like the man I fell in love with. That was the real Yūsuke Oda in that ring—passionate, determined, giving everything he had."
Oda felt tears forming in his eyes. "So you're not leaving?"
"Are you kidding? I want you to keep boxing. I want to see more fights like that."
Behind them, Coach approached with a rare smile on his face.
"The gym is giving you another chance," he announced. "After seeing how you performed tonight, they believe you've finally found your motivation."
"Even though I lost?"
"Sometimes losing the right way is more valuable than winning the wrong way," Mikami replied. "You showed more heart in those two rounds than in your previous five fights combined."
Meanwhile, in the Kamogawa gym's celebration area, the mood was festive. Yagi had arranged for them to go to Sugar Ray, a nearby hostess bar, to celebrate Ippo's victory, and the place was buzzing with excited chatter.
"To Ippo!" Takamura raised his beer. "The newest knockout artist in Japanese boxing!"
"To Ippo!" the group responded in unison.
The bar was dimly lit with a warm, welcoming atmosphere. Several hostesses had noticed their boisterous group and were clearly curious about the celebration.
"Excuse me," one of them approached with a professional smile. "You gentlemen seem to be having quite the celebration. What's the occasion?"
"Our boy here just scored the knockout of the year at Kōrakuen Hall!" Aoki announced proudly, slapping Ippo on the back.
The hostess's eyes widened with genuine interest. "You're a professional boxer?"
Ippo's face immediately turned crimson. "Uh, well, tonight was actually my debut, so I'm really not—"
"He's being way too modest!" Kimura interrupted. "This guy just destroyed his opponent in two rounds!"
More hostesses gathered around their table, drawn by the excitement. One of them, a petite woman with kind eyes, sat down next to Ippo.
"You're really cute when you blush like that," she said with a gentle smile. "It's such a contrast—you look tough and handsome with that strong jawline of yours, but you're actually shy as a schoolboy."
Ippo's blush deepened to an almost dangerous shade of red. "I'm not tough at all! I just—"
"Are you kidding?" another hostess chimed in, studying his face. "Look at those cheekbones! And your face has such strong, masculine lines now. You've definitely got that fighter's look."
It was true. The months of training had transformed not just Ippo's body, but his facial structure as well. Gone was the soft, round face of the bullied fish boy. In its place was a more angular, defined look—still kind and approachable, but undeniably more mature and attractive.
"He's like a teddy bear that could knock you out," one of the hostesses giggled. "Adorable but dangerous!"
Takamura, who had been watching this exchange with growing amusement, suddenly got a mischievous glint in his eye.
"You know what, ladies?" he announced loudly. "Our champion here is still a little too modest. I think he needs to show off a bit more!"
Before anyone could react, Takamura lunged toward Ippo with lightning speed.
"TAKAMURA, NO!" Ippo yelled, but it was too late.
YANK!
In one swift motion, Takamura grabbed the waistband of Ippo's pants and pulled them down to his ankles, leaving him standing in his underwear in front of everyone.
"BEHOLD!" Takamura proclaimed dramatically. "THE ELEPHANT ITSELF!"
The hostesses burst into a mixture of laughter and surprised gasps, while Ippo frantically tried to pull his pants back up, his face now a shade of red that threatened to break the visible light spectrum.
"TAKAMURA!" Ippo shrieked. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
"I'm celebrating your victory!" Takamura replied innocently. "This is a traditional boxer's celebration!" While thinking to himself 'Damn I meant to get the underwear too, I must be out of touch'
"THAT'S NOT A TRADITION!" Kimura and Aoki yelled in unison.
"It is now!" Takamura grinned.
One of the hostesses couldn't stop giggling. "Oh my, he's even cuter when he's embarrassed! Look at those boxer shorts—they have little fish on them!"
"STOP LOOKING!" Ippo pleaded, finally managing to get his pants back up.
"Those are some serious legs though," another hostess observed appreciatively. "You can see the muscle definition even through his pants."
Yagi shook his head in exasperation. "Takamura, you can't just pants people in public establishments!"
"Why not? It's a celebration! Besides, the kid needs to learn to be more confident!"
Aoki leaned over to one of the hostesses conspiratorially. "You should have seen him in the ring tonight. One punch and it was lights out for the other guy. But outside the ring, he's still the same sweet, shy kid we've always known."
Ippo, still recovering from his embarrassment, found himself being fussed over by the hostesses who seemed to find his shyness endearing rather than off-putting.
"You know," one of them said thoughtfully, "there's something really interesting about a man who's powerful but doesn't feel the need to show off about it."
"Yeah!" another agreed. "Most tough guys are so aggressive and arrogant. But you're like a... gentle giant?"
"I'm not strong at all," Ippo protested weakly. "I just got lucky tonight."
This response only made them find him more adorable.
"Did he just say he got lucky?" one hostess whispered to another. "After knocking someone out in two rounds?"
"I know! He's like a puppy who doesn't realize he's actually a wolf!"
Takamura, thoroughly enjoying the chaos he'd created, raised his beer again. "Ladies, let me tell you about the time this 'lucky' guy nearly killed a heavy bag on his first day at the gym!"
"Takamura-san, please don't—" Ippo started.
"BAM! One punch and the thing almost flew off its chain! We thought we had a natural-born killer on our hands!"
"That's not how it happened!" Ippo protested.
"Oh, it's exactly how it happened," Kimura confirmed with a grin. "We've never seen anything like it."
"And then," Aoki continued the story, "when he first sparred with Miyata—who's supposed to be this technical genius—Ippo knocked him out cold!"
"Really?" the hostesses were clearly impressed.
"It was beautiful," Takamura said dreamily. "Like watching poetry in motion. Violent, unconsciousness-inducing poetry."
Ippo buried his face in his hands. "You guys are making it sound way more dramatic than it actually was."
"Are you kidding?" Yagi chimed in. "I've been managing fighters for twenty years, and I've never seen a debut performance like tonight's."
One of the hostesses leaned closer to Ippo. "So what's next for you? Another fight?"
"Well," Ippo said, finally managing to compose himself slightly, "there's this tournament called the Rookie King Championship..."
"He's being modest again," Takamura interrupted. "He's not just entering the tournament—he's going to dominate it. Mark my words, ladies, you're looking at a future champion."
"Stop it," Ippo mumbled, but there was a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
For Ippo, it was the perfect end to a perfect night. His professional career had officially begun, and he couldn't wait to see what came next.