The sound of Miyata's gloves meeting his sparring partner's face echoed across the gym, sharp and precise. Ippo and I stood rooted to the spot, our sweat-soaked towels hanging limply around our necks. Every movement Miyata made was calculated, smooth, and devastating.
His sparring partner—a seasoned boxer—threw a series of quick jabs, but Miyata dodged them effortlessly, his body flowing like water. Then, in the blink of an eye, he stepped in, delivering a perfectly timed counterpunch to the ribs.
The sparring partner staggered back, gasping for air, and the session ended with Kamogawa stepping in.
"Alright, that's enough," Kamogawa said, clapping his hands. He glanced at Miyata, his expression pleased. "Good work, Miyata. Your counters are as sharp as ever."
Miyata nodded politely, his demeanor calm and collected. He stepped out of the ring, pulling off his gloves, and finally turned his attention to us. His gaze was piercing, like he was sizing us up.
"You're the new trainees," he said, his tone neutral.
Ippo stammered. "Y-Yes! I'm Makunouchi Ippo, and this is Takashi Kurogane!"
Miyata's eyes flicked to me, and for a moment, I felt like he could see right through me. "Hmm. You two have a long way to go," he said, his voice as sharp as his punches. "Boxing isn't something you can pick up casually. It's a grind. You'll need more than just enthusiasm to survive."
I bristled slightly but kept my tone even. "We're ready to work for it."
Miyata's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "We'll see."
As he walked past us, I couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and irritation. He was undoubtedly talented—probably the most skilled boxer in the gym—but there was an arrogance to him that rubbed me the wrong way.
I glanced at Ippo, who was staring after Miyata with a look of determination. "He's amazing," Ippo murmured. "I want to be as good as him someday."
I patted him on the back. "Then we'd better get back to work."
---
Over the next few days, the atmosphere in the gym shifted. Miyata's presence was a constant reminder of how far we had to go. His sparring sessions were a masterclass in technique and timing, drawing the attention of everyone in the gym.
Takamura, of course, had his own way of dealing with Miyata's talent. "That pretty boy's too obsessed with being perfect," he said one day, watching Miyata shadowbox. "Boxing's about more than just counters and footwork. It's about guts and power."
He turned to me and Ippo, his grin wide and mischievous. "Speaking of guts, you two ready for some real training?"
I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'real training'?"
"You'll see," Takamura said, his grin widening.
---
The next morning, Takamura dragged us to the beach at the crack of dawn. The sun was barely up, and the air was cold enough to make my breath visible.
"What are we doing here?" Ippo asked, shivering.
"Running," Takamura said simply, tossing us a pair of weighted vests.
I caught mine and nearly dropped it from the sheer weight. "What the hell? How heavy are these?"
"Fifteen kilos," Takamura said, smirking. "Don't worry. You'll get used to it."
He pointed to the shoreline. "Start running. Five laps down and back. Don't stop, or you'll regret it."
I glanced at Ippo, who looked like he was about to cry, and sighed. "Alright, let's do this."
The sand shifted under our feet as we started running, the weighted vests pressing down on our shoulders with every step. The resistance was brutal, and my legs burned almost immediately.
By the time we finished the first lap, Ippo was gasping for air. "I-I can't… I can't do this…"
"Yes, you can!" I shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. "One step at a time, Ippo. Don't think about the whole thing—just focus on the next step."
He nodded weakly and kept moving, his determination shining through his exhaustion.
---
By the time we finished all five laps, both of us collapsed onto the sand, our chests heaving. Takamura stood over us, arms crossed, looking completely unimpressed.
"Not bad for rookies," he said. "But you've still got a long way to go."
I glared up at him, too tired to speak.
---
Back at the gym, Kamogawa greeted us with his usual gruffness. "Good. You're starting to understand what it means to train like a boxer. But there's no time to rest. Grab the mitts."
The rest of the day was a blur of punches, drills, and exhaustion. Every fiber of my body ached, but I could feel myself improving. My punches were sharper, my footwork more stable.
The system chimed in my mind as I threw my final punch of the day.
---
Daily Mission Complete: Advanced Endurance Training
Reward: +1 Endurance, Unlock [Uppercut Lv. 1].
---
I opened my status window, grinning as I saw the changes.
---
Status Window
Strength: E-
Agility: E-
Endurance: F+ → E-
Skills: Jab Lv. 2, Straight Lv. 1, Hook Lv. 1, Uppercut Lv. 1
---
Ippo collapsed onto the bench beside me, his head drooping. "This is… harder than I thought," he murmured.
"Yeah," I said, wiping sweat from my face. "But we're getting better. I can feel it."
He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Me too."
---
A few days later, Miyata approached Kamogawa during a break in training. "Sensei," he said, his tone calm but firm. "I'd like to spar with Makunouchi."
Ippo froze, his eyes widening. "M-Me?"
Kamogawa stroked his chin, his expression thoughtful. "Interesting idea. It could be good for you, Makunouchi. What do you think?"
Ippo looked like he was about to faint, but he nodded. "I-I'll do it."
Miyata smirked slightly, his confidence radiating. "Good. Let's see what you've got."
---
The gym buzzed with excitement as the sparring session was set up. Everyone gathered around the ring, eager to see the match.
I stood beside Ippo as he wrapped his hands, his face pale. "You'll do fine," I said, trying to reassure him. "Just remember what we've been practicing. Keep your guard up and don't panic."
He nodded, though his hands trembled slightly.
As the two stepped into the ring, the difference in their demeanor was stark. Miyata stood tall and composed, his movements fluid as he bounced lightly on his feet. Ippo, on the other hand, was stiff and nervous, his gloves shaking as he raised them.
The bell rang, and Miyata moved immediately, his jab snapping out with lightning speed. Ippo barely managed to block it, stumbling backward.
"Focus, Ippo!" Kamogawa shouted. "Stay on your feet!"
Ippo steadied himself, his eyes narrowing with determination. He moved forward cautiously, throwing a tentative jab. Miyata dodged it effortlessly, countering with a quick hook to the body.
The impact sent Ippo reeling, but he didn't go down. Instead, he gritted his teeth and stepped forward again, his punches growing more aggressive.
Miyata's expression shifted slightly, his smirk fading. I could see the faintest hint of respect in his eyes as Ippo refused to back down.
By the end of the third round, Ippo was battered and exhausted, but he was still standing.
"Not bad," Miyata said as he stepped out of the ring. "You've got heart. Keep working on your technique, and you might actually be a challenge someday."
Ippo beamed, despite the bruises forming on his face. "Thank you!"
I patted him on the back as he climbed down from the ring. "You did great, Ippo. I'm proud of you."
He smiled, his confidence growing bit by bit.
As I watched him, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. We were both making progress—step by step, punch by punch.
The road ahead was still long, but I knew we were heading in the right direction.