Ryoma drops his guard completely, rage twisting his features into something raw and unfiltered. Kenta reacts on instinct, firing a short left, but Ryoma steps straight into it, letting the glove crack hard against his cheek, using the moment to sling his own counter.
Dhuack!
His fist slams into Kenta's face, snapping Kenta's head backward with a sharp jolt. But Ryoma doesn't follow it up. He just stands there, his face laced with irritation.
"Damn it, Kenta…" he growls, voice rips out between clenched teeth. "You had the chance… and you let it go! What are you… in love with me or something?"
The bell cuts the moment in half.
Ding!
And Ryoma turns away, walking toward his corner with cold, simmering anger. He throws one more line over his shoulder, low but poisonous.
"I told you. If you don't have the heart to hurt me, then quit boxing already."
Kenta wipes the blood from his lip. "I'm going easy on you because we're two weight classes apart."
