Free Web NovelChapter 810: The Last Exchange
The blue corner erupts. Nakahara is already climbing through the ropes before the official announcement can even begin. Sera follows right behind him, and Hiroshi practically leaps into the ring as all three rush toward Aramaki at once, shouting over each other in excitement.
"YOU DID IT!"
"ARAMAKI!"
"YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!"
The celebration swirls around him, but Aramaki himself looks strangely detached from it. His shoulders sag heavily, and his chest rises and falls with exhausted breaths.
The adrenaline that carried him through the final exchange is already fading, leaving only the accumulated damage of ten brutal rounds. More than triumphant, he looks relieved.
He starts walking back toward the corner, but his legs no longer move with the same certainty. His balance falters and his knees nearly give out beneath him.
Hiroshi reaches him in time and catches him by the arm before he can stumble.
"Easy," Hiroshi says.
"Thanks," Aramaki answers with a tired grin.
Together, they help guide him the rest of the way back.
Ryoma, meanwhile, never joins the chaos. He calmly climbs the ring steps and sets the stool on the corner calmly, prioritizing Aramaki’s condition.
The swelling around Aramaki’s eyes has worsened. Bruises have spread across his cheeks and temple. The final slugfest clearly took more out of him than he is willing to admit.
When Aramaki finally reaches the corner, Ryoma gives him a brief nod.
"I kept my promise," he says. "I didn’t touch the towel even once."
A faint smile appears in Aramaki’s face despite the swelling.
"Thanks."
A moment later, Aramaki’s attention shifts elsewhere, catching Kaori climbing onto the apron behind the corner post.
Her eyes are already watery as she steps through the ropes and makes her way toward him. The pride on her face is impossible to miss. Without saying anything, she wraps her arms around him.
"Sorry for taking so long," Aramaki says. "You must have been bored watching me get punched all night."
"No," Kaori says, refusing to let go. "I’ve never been this proud of you."
As she says it, her arms tighten around him without realizing it.
Aramaki immediately winces. "Ow, ow, ow..."
Kaori freezes. "Ah!"
She quickly loosens the embrace and takes a step back, panic replacing the smile on her face.
"Sorry! Sorry!"
Aramaki rubs at his ribs, complaining. "Come on, you’re not Nanako."
"Huh?"
"If you keep doing that, you might actually kill me before I can bring enough money home."
For a brief moment, Kaori simply stares at him. Then a laugh escapes her as she wipes away the tears gathering beneath her eyes.
Seeing that smile, Aramaki finally laughs too, and for the first time since the final bell, the weight of being a husband seems to lift from his shoulders.
Around them, the standing ovation continues to spread through Korakuen Hall. More and more spectators rise from their seats until the entire arena is applauding.
It feels less like a celebration of a new champion and more like an acknowledgment of the struggle that brought him there.
Nakahara joins the applause. Sera and Hiroshi follow. Even some of the officials standing nearby clap along with the crowd.
Only Ryoma remains still, his gaze already drifting across the ring toward the red corner, where Serrano is sitting on a stool while a ringside doctor examines him.
Ryoma knows his provocation played a part in pushing Serrano beyond his limit. Yet despite everything, he can’t help feeling a degree of respect for the courage Serrano showed in those final seconds.
***
A moment later, the ring announcer steps through the ropes, followed by a ring girl carrying the championship belt. The crowd gradually settles, though the excitement still lingers in the air.
"Ladies and gentlemen, referee Yuji Fukuchi stops the contest at two minutes and fifty-three seconds of Round Ten. The winner by knockout... and the new Japanese Super Featherweight Champion..."
He pauses as the arena already begins roaring.
"TATSUKI ARAMAKI!"
The final words are drowned beneath the explosion of cheers.
The ring announcer then walks toward the blue corner and presents the belt. The moment the championship is placed into Aramaki’s hands, the arena erupts once again.
"ARAMAKI!"
"ARAMAKI!"
"ARAMAKI!"
People rise from their seats. Some clap, some whistle, while the rest simply shout his name as loudly as they can.
A few journalists near ringside are already gathering their notes while the celebration continues inside the ring.
"I still can’t believe he actually won."
"Neither can I. If you compare them purely as fighters, Serrano should’ve dominated him."
"He almost did."
"That’s the crazy part. For nine rounds, everything was going according to expectation." freewёbnoνel.com
"And yet Aramaki is the one holding the belt. Which makes me think we’re looking at this from the wrong angle."
A few of them glance toward Ryoma on the blue corner.
"Tell me honestly. When did the fight start changing?"
"The foul."
"No. Before that."
"The crowd?"
"Exactly. The crowd turned against Serrano long before the foul happened."
"And Ryoma was feeding it."
"He was feeding everything. The audience. Even Serrano himself."
"That’s a bit much."
"Is it? Look at the sequence. He kept provoking Serrano. He kept giving the audience reasons to turn on him. Then after the slam, he immediately cornered the referee, made the crowd even angrier, and kept poking Serrano until he abandoned the strategy that was winning him the fight."
"He got Serrano to trade."
"That’s the point. Kirizume spent ten rounds trying to keep Serrano disciplined. Ryoma spent ten rounds trying to break that discipline."
At the commentary desk, both commentators are still struggling to be heard above the noise.
"What a night! What a story!"
"Aramaki came in as the underdog, got dropped, got fouled, got smacked on the face over and over, and somehow still found a way to become champion!"
"And you have to give credit to his corner too!"
"Absolutely! This wasn’t just Aramaki’s victory. Ryoma’s fingerprints were all over this fight!"
Their voices continue pouring through the speakers, but by now, they are barely audible beneath the deafening roar of Korakuen Hall.
The celebration has completely taken over the building, swallowing every other sound as thousands of people rise to their feet and continue chanting the new champion’s name.
"ARA-MAKI!"
"ARA-MAKI!"
"ARA-MAKI!"
It is only a national title changing hands, yet the atmosphere feels more like someone has just dethroned a world champion.
Kirizume watches the scene in silence. The frustration of defeat is still there. No promoter enjoys seeing his main event end like this.
But as the celebration continues, another realization settles into his mind; Serrano might have won the belt before. But he never truly won the people like Aramaki did. The distinction has never felt clearer.
Kirizume’s eyes drift across the arena, taking in the standing ovation filling Korakuen Hall, before eventually settling on Ryoma.
For a brief moment, the old resentment resurfaces. Now that the fight is over, Kirizume can finally see the full picture.
Ryoma didn’t just influence Aramaki. He influenced the audience, shaping the atmosphere, exactly like what he did at Ota weeks ago.
"This kid..."
But the resentment only lasts a moment.
Kirizume takes a slow breath, then gives a small nod toward Ryoma, a simple acknowledgment, nothing more.
Ryoma responds with a nod of his own. To him, that small gesture from Kirizume means more than the belt Aramaki won tonight.
The grudge they carried for years has finally reached its conclusion. Kirizume challenged him, and Ryoma answered.
There is no unfinished business between them anymore. Only the acknowledgment of an older trainer accepting defeat to a younger one.
