Ryoma doesn't answer immediately. He leans back with an easy posture, hands loosely folded, studying the two men across from him with the same quiet sharpness he once used to gauge an opponent's rhythm.
Logan's offer, Frank's numbers, the promise laid neatly on the table. But none of it has left a mark on his expression.
To anyone watching, it looks as though he's simply taking his time. But beneath that calm, Ryoma is measuring, weighing each intention, each detail that slips through their polished professionalism.
Frank carries himself with the steady assurance of someone who has guided champions and prodigies for decades, while Logan maintains a smooth, diplomatic smile that gives nothing away. On the surface, neither shows even the slightest trace of doubt.
Yet a quiet uncertainty lingers between them, wondering the same thing: what is holding him back, what invisible weight keeps him so perfectly still?
Frank is the one who finally breaks the silence.
