Free Web NovelChapter 812: Seeing Danger Everywhere
Ryoma continues his roadwork at steady pace, but his focus never fully settles. His eyes drift away from the path ahead and wander across the surrounding area instead. More than once, he turns his head to glance behind him, only to find the same empty stretch of road he has already checked several times before.
Upon reaching the Tama River, the riverside remains quiet before sunrise. Under normal circumstances, Ryoma would appreciate the solitude. Today, however, the silence seems to magnify every uneasy thought lingering in the back of his mind.
When he reaches the section where he usually performs his stop-and-dash routine, he bursts into a sprint and maintains it until his lungs begin to burn.
After several hundred meters, he slows to a stop and controlls his breathing. This is where he normally spends a minute shadow boxing before beginning the next sprint. Instead, he remains where he is and quietly surveys the area around him.
<< What happened to the combinations you practiced yesterday? >>
The voice suddenly speaks up.
<< Aren’t you supposed to be preparing for Liam O’Connell? >>
Ryoma ignores it and continues scanning the riverside.
<< Look at you. >>
<< Standing around like a security guard instead of a boxer. >>
<< Go on. Keep looking. >>
<< Maybe the crows are plotting against you too. >>
"Shut up," Ryoma mutters, then resumes his roadwork at a steady pace.
***
By the time he finally heads toward the streets leading to the gym, the city is beginning to wake up. Traffic gradually increases along the main roads, cyclists appear more frequently, and convenience stores open their doors to the first customers of the day.
The presence of other people should be reassuring, yet Ryoma finds himself studying them with the same caution.
Whenever a vehicle approaches an intersection, he instinctively pays attention to the driver sitting behind the wheel.
Whenever he reaches a crosswalk, he waits until he is completely certain before stepping forward.
Even after the gym comes into view, his vigilance refuses to fade. For what feels like the hundredth time that morning, he glances over his shoulder.
But when he finally turns forward, he actually finds that same car already parked in its usual position, exactly where he always finds it.
And the voice immediately speaks up inside his head again.
<< Stop acting so scared. >>
<< You already know they’re just journalists. >>
The voice is not entirely wrong. Being followed by reporters is hardly a new experience for someone in his position.
Journalists had often appeared around his fights, his training camps, and occasionally even his apartment.
As if to prove the point, the glass door of a nearby coffee shop suddenly swings open. Four reporters emerge almost at once and begin moving toward Ryoma with practiced urgency.
"Ryoma, could we have a moment of your time?"
"Just a few questions before training."
The questions come one after another before he has any opportunity to answer.
"Have you heard that Liam O’Connell arrived in Japan more than a week ago?"
"What do you think about that, Ryoma? Don’t you think his arrival was unusually early?"
"And how are your preparations progressing?"
A visibly tired expression settles across Ryoma’s face. Ever since Aramaki’s victory three days ago, he has already spent more time talking to reporters than he ever wanted.
He had assumed that giving them several interviews would be enough to satisfy their curiosity and allow him to focus on preparing for Liam O’Connell. Apparently, it is not.
Without slowing down, Ryoma continues walking toward the gym, while the reporters still follow alongside him.
"Ryoma, just one comment."
"Do you think Liam is trying to send a message by arriving this early?"
"Are you planning to adjust your preparation because of that?"
Ryoma waves a hand dismissively, as though trying to brush away a group of persistent insects.
"Please just leave me alone and let me train in peace."
The request accomplishes very little. The reporters continue trailing behind him all the way to the gym entrance.
Only after Ryoma steps inside the gym, pulls the glass door shut behind him, and locks it from within, do they finally stop following.
***
At least, once he’s inside the familiar walls of the gym, much of Ryoma’s unease fades. He moves through one drill after another with the same sharp discipline he always displays.
His timing remains precise, his conditioning shows no signs of decline, and nothing in his performance gives Nakahara or the other coaches reason for concern.
Yet when the sparring session begins, they notice it again. The difference is subtle, difficult to put into words, but unmistakable all the same.
"Keep at it, kid! Step in more! Keep the pressure!"
The sharp instruction echoes across the ring as Ryoma circles around Kenta.
The two have shared countless rounds over the years, and with both of them scheduled to fight on the same card later this month, their sparring sessions have only become more frequent.
Yet lately, something seems different. Despite spending months learning Nakahara’s pressure-fighting style, Ryoma appears noticeably more cautious than before.
He still attacks when opportunities present themselves, but he spends more time retreating after exchanges and resetting the distance.
He has even begun reverting to the hit-and-run style he relied on during his amateur days. If anything, there is now more running than hitting.
Even Kenta notices it as well.
"What’s wrong with him?"
He steps forward and fires three quick hooks in succession.
Ryoma catches the first two on his guard, then dodges the third with a sharp movement of his head.
For an instant, Kenta braces himself for the counterattack that usually follows. But it never comes.
Ryoma takes a step back and resets the distance between them. The movement itself is flawless. His exit remains smooth, clean, and almost effortless.
Yet that is precisely what feels wrong. This is not the Ryoma Kenta is used to facing. Normally, that small opening would lead to a critical counter. Instead, Ryoma treats it as an opportunity to leave.
***
After the sparring session ends, Ryoma remains unusually quiet.
Normally, he would spend several minutes discussing the rounds with Kenta, pointing out mistakes, offering suggestions, and breaking down exchanges that happened too quickly to analyze in the moment.
This time, however, he simply exhales and takes off his gear. And that only adds to Kenta’s disappointment, because over the years, those conversations have become one of the things he values most about sparring with Ryoma.
More than once, Ryoma’s advice has helped him rediscover that elusive feeling of entering the zone during a fight. Lately, however, that feeling seems farther away than ever.
"Ryoma, wait..." Kenta calls.
Ryoma stops and turns toward him. "What? Something on your mind?"
"Well..." Kenta begins, taking a moment to choose his words. "I know there are less than three weeks before fight night, and avoiding injuries is important at this stage. But I think you’ve been a little too careful lately."
The moment the words leave his mouth, Ryoma’s expression hardens. There is no hostility in Kenta’s voice, yet the comment immediately irritates him.
"You survive three rounds with me," Ryoma says, irritation clearly visible on his face, "and now you’re starting to think I’ve become a coward too?"
Kenta blinks in confusion. "A coward? No. I never said that. I just thought you were holding back because you didn’t want to injure me. That’s what I meant."
The irritation on Ryoma’s face fades almost immediately, recalling that Kenta never really called him a coward.
For a brief moment, Ryoma finds himself wondering why that was the first conclusion he jumped to.
And under normal circumstances, that is exactly when the voice would return.
<< Just admit it. You’ve become a coward. >>
<< The thought has buried itself so deep inside your head that you hear it even when nobody says it. >>
<< And now you also assume everyone else can see it too. >> freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
<< Seeing the cowardice in you. >>
