The morning sun cast long shadows across the dock as Ippo said goodbye to his mother at the Makunouchi Fishing Boat. Despite the early hour, Hiroko had insisted on seeing him off for the training camp.
"Make sure you eat properly and don't overdo the training," she said, adjusting his jacket collar with practiced care.
"I will, Mom. Don't worry about me," Ippo replied with that warm smile that had become his trademark. "I'll be back in a week, stronger than ever."
As he walked away from the boat, Ippo began shadowboxing absent-mindedly, his movements fluid and precise—a habit that had developed as his confidence grew. A young woman passing by noticed his practiced movements and looked down, her expression troubled. The sight of boxing, even practiced alone, seemed to bring back difficult memories.
The train ride to the beach was filled with anticipation as the four Kamogawa gym members settled into their seats. Takamura, Aoki, and Kimura were in high spirits, while Ippo found himself already mentally preparing for the training ahead.
"This is going to be great," Aoki said enthusiastically. "Finally some time to focus without distractions."
"Don't forget we're still here to work," Takamura reminded them, though his relaxed demeanor suggested he was looking forward to the change of pace as much as anyone.
Ippo listened to their conversation while watching the countryside scroll by, his reflection in the window showing the dramatic physical changes that months of training had wrought. His shoulders had broadened considerably, his jawline had sharpened, and even through his casual clothes, the outline of serious muscle development was evident.
"Look at you, Ippo," Takamura observed. "You're starting to look like a real monster."
The transformation was remarkable. Where once there had been soft, boyish features, now clean lines defined his face. His physique showed the kind of development that came from combining natural strength with systematic training under expert guidance.
Upon arriving at the beach, they made their way to a modest cabin that would serve as their base for the week. When they unpacked their bags, Ippo discovered the others had packed a mixture of training equipment and recreational items.
"Beach volleyball?" Ippo asked, holding up the ball.
"Training aid," Kimura explained. "Hand-eye coordination and footwork."
When they changed into their swimming attire, the full extent of Ippo's physical development became apparent. Months of intensive training had sculpted his body into something approaching perfection for a featherweight boxer. His chest was broad and defined, his shoulders carved with athletic precision, and his core showed the deep cuts that spoke of countless hours of conditioning work.
"You've really filled out," Takamura noted with genuine respect. "That's the body of someone who takes this seriously."
While his three sempai headed off to explore the beach, Ippo found a quiet spot and lay down for what appeared to be rest. But his mind was far from peaceful.
In his half-sleep, he found himself facing a stern Coach Kamogawa demanding perfection in technique. Then the scene shifted to Hayami, whose lightning-fast "Shotgun" combinations seemed impossible to counter.
Ippo woke abruptly, sweat on his forehead despite the ocean breeze.
"I need to use this time wisely," he said to himself, the dream crystallizing his focus on the areas that needed work.
When the trio returned, they began their first training session with beach running. The sand presented unique challenges—the unstable surface made it difficult to maintain normal rhythm and required constant adjustments in balance and foot placement.
But Ippo adapted quickly. His footwork, honed through months of pressure boxing training, allowed him to maintain his pace even on the shifting sand. Through Yuto's template, his feet had developed exceptional strength and sensitivity, making the transition to beach running smoother than expected.
"Kid's making this look natural," Takamura observed as they completed their route.
The run revealed something interesting about his sempai's training philosophy—they seemed to be timing their route to pass various groups of beachgoers, particularly the volleyball courts where college students were playing.
"Are we training or sightseeing?" Ippo asked.
"Multi-purpose efficiency," Aoki replied cheerfully. "Physical conditioning with environmental awareness."
That evening brought serious technical work. While the others went through standard shadowboxing routines, Ippo focused on refining his special techniques.
The Frazier Torque required the most attention. The power was devastating, but the windup was still too obvious for experienced opponents. He worked on integrating the movement into normal combination flows—disguising the heavy lead step as part of a natural advance, making the torso rotation look like a weight shift during setup work.
"What's he working on over there?" Kimura asked, noticing Ippo's unconventional movements.
"Looks like advanced technique development," Takamura replied, his experienced eye recognizing the sophistication of what Ippo was attempting.
Next, Ippo practiced his Armstrong-inspired swarming combinations. The challenge was maintaining chest-to-chest positioning while throwing fifteen to twenty punches in rapid succession, each one carrying real power. The technique required incredible stamina and precision—one mistimed punch could break the rhythm and create an opening for his opponent.
The session was intense yet productive, leaving Ippo energized by his progress rather than exhausted.
---
The next morning brought unexpected attention. As Ippo was going through his morning conditioning routine on the beach, a group of college-aged women approached.
"Excuse me," one of them said politely, "but are you a professional athlete?"
Ippo looked up from his push-ups, slightly confused by the question. "I'm a boxer, actually. Just training."
"We could tell," another added with obvious interest. "Your workout routine looks really professional."
Within minutes, Ippo found himself surrounded by an enthusiastic group asking questions about boxing, his training regimen, and his competition schedule. His natural honesty and straightforward manner made him easy to talk to, and his obvious dedication to his sport was impressive even to those who knew little about boxing.
"So you actually fight professionally?" one asked.
"I'm still in the amateur tournaments," Ippo explained modestly. "But I'm working toward professional status."
From across the beach, Takamura, Aoki, and Kimura watched the scene with a mixture of amazement and jealousy.
"Are you seeing this?" Aoki asked in disbelief.
"The kid's not even trying and he's got a fan club," Kimura muttered.
"Look at him," Takamura said with grudging respect. "He's actually talking to them about boxing technique. No pickup lines, no posing—just genuine conversation about what he's passionate about."
"And they're eating it up," Aoki observed with obvious frustration. "What are we doing wrong?"
"Trying too hard," Takamura replied bluntly.
When Ippo finally extracted himself from the group to continue his training, the three approached him with expressions of mixed admiration and annoyance.
"How?" Aoki demanded. "How did you just casually attract more attention in ten minutes than we've managed all week?"
Ippo looked genuinely confused by the question. "I was just answering their questions. They seemed interested in learning about boxing."
"That's it," Kimura said with resignation. "He's completely natural at this and doesn't even realize it."
The serious training intensified over the following days. Takamura took a hands-on approach to helping Ippo refine his techniques, focusing on the kind of details that separated good fighters from great ones.
"Your power's never been in question," Takamura explained during an intensive mitt session. "But now we need to work on deployment. Having devastating techniques means nothing if you can't land them when it matters."
They worked extensively on disguising the Frazier Torque setup. Instead of the obvious wind-up that telegraphed the technique, Takamura taught Ippo to integrate the movement into normal boxing combinations.
"Feel the difference?" Takamura asked after guiding Ippo through a sequence where the hook setup looked like a natural part of his jab-cross combination. "Now your knockout punch doesn't announce itself."
The mitt work was precise and demanding. Takamura would call out combinations that required Ippo to seamlessly transition between normal boxing and his special techniques. The goal was to make everything flow together as one unified fighting style rather than separate tools.
"Jab, cross, slip left, Frazier setup," Takamura would call, holding the mitts in perfect position for each shot.
The result was devastating. When properly disguised, the Frazier Torque became nearly impossible to see coming until it was too late to defend.
They spent equal time on the Armstrong swarming technique, working on maintaining the relentless pressure while ensuring each punch in the sequence carried maximum impact. The key was staying close enough to prevent reset while maintaining the leverage needed for power generation.
"Twenty-punch combination, maintain pressure throughout," Takamura would instruct, then move the mitts in patterns that forced Ippo to adjust his angles constantly while keeping up the rapid-fire pace.
The conditioning required was immense, but Ippo's natural stamina combined with his systematic training allowed him to maintain the technique's effectiveness even deep into extended sessions.
"Your boxing IQ is developing fast," Takamura observed after a particularly complex sequence. "You're not just throwing techniques anymore—you're thinking moves ahead."
The week's training culminated in extensive sparring sessions where Kimura served as a mobile target, allowing Ippo to practice deploying his techniques against a live opponent. The improvement was dramatic—what had once been isolated special moves were now seamlessly integrated into his natural boxing flow.
"Try to catch me with that hook," Kimura challenged during one session.
Ippo feinted a normal jab-cross combination, drawing Kimura's guard into position, then smoothly transitioned into the Frazier Torque setup. The hook caught Kimura completely off-guard, landing with enough force to stagger him despite the protective gear.
"Where did that come from?" Kimura asked, impressed despite being on the receiving end.
"That's the point," Takamura said with satisfaction. "Perfect technique integration means your opponent never sees it coming."
----
On the final evening, they gathered on the beach for a modest fireworks display—a tradition that marked the end of their training camp. As they watched the colors paint the night sky, the conversation turned to their goals and motivations.
"What are you really fighting for?" Takamura asked, his tone more serious than usual.
"The Japanese title," Aoki said immediately. "That's the goal that makes all this worthwhile."
"Same here," Kimura agreed. "All this training has to lead somewhere meaningful."
"And you, Ippo?"
Ippo considered the question while watching the fireworks fade. "I want to keep getting stronger. Strong enough to protect the people I care about. Strong enough to give my rivals the fights they deserve. And..." he paused, "strong enough to prove that anyone can change if they're willing to work for it."
Takamura nodded approvingly. "Those are the motivations of someone who'll go far. As for me—I'm aiming for the world championship. Nothing less will satisfy me."
As they packed up and prepared to return to the cabin, Ippo reflected on the week's progress. His techniques had been refined to a new level, his understanding of tactical deployment had deepened, and his confidence in his abilities had grown.
The beach training camp was ending, but Ippo felt more prepared than ever for whatever challenges the tournament would bring.