The referee wedges himself between them again, arms pressing against their shoulders.
"Break! Break!"
This time Thanid releases immediately.
His grip disappears the moment the command is given. He takes two steps back, gloves already rising as he pivots away from the clinch.
The elbow block, the grinding clinch, the quiet taunt whispered into Ryoma's ear, all of it has served its purpose. Now he wants to see the result.
The referee glances between them briefly, then gestures.
"Box!"
But Ryoma doesn't meet his opponent in the center ring. He lingers along the outer perimeter, calming his mind. His footwork slows into a measured circle, drawing a wide arc around the canvas.
He knows he lost his composure back there, and it cost him his left knuckle. He hates it, but he knows better than to let the anger take over again.
His posture changes. His body turns sharply sideways, blading his stance in defensive Philly Shell.
