By the time Nakahara steps back into his gym, the place is alive again, the quick thud of jump ropes, the sharp rhythm of mitts, the smell of sweat and canvas. But the moment Kenta notices him, all of it seems to fade.
Kenta jogs over, gloves half-unlaced, worry written plainly across his face.
"Coach, you're back? How was it?"
Nakahara doesn't ease into it. He's exhausted, his nerves raw from the long ride and the gamble he's just committed to.
So he delivers it straight. "You're fighting Liam Kuroda."
The words land like a punch. Kenta's expression flickers, shock, and then he feels something tighter, a brief involuntary fear he tries to mask with a stiff nod.
Nakahara continues, "And Aramaki will fight Hanazawa Matsusuke."
Aramaki's face lights up instantly, thrilled at the chance. But Kenta says nothing. He lowers his gaze, jaw clenched, breath uneven in a way only a trained coach would notice.
