Friendly Match

The two fists collided, and the Boxing Club President staggered back three steps, wearing an uncanny smile.

The boxing gloves limited his performance, making his attacks less powerful than bare-knuckle punches.

Otherwise, he would have knocked you down long ago.

But you...

Sensing the two men closing in behind him, Tanaka Yukishin threw a punch from either side.

Tanaka Yukishin understood.

So that was it—a plan to lure him in.

He felt slightly pleased.

Not bad. Much better than blindly charging in.

But if you know my stats, you should also know how fast I am.

He dodged to the side, then swung his right fist around in a follow-through.

When their target slipped away, the two men had planned to pull their punches to avoid injuring their teammate.

But after so many practice sessions together, they could communicate simple information with a glance.

Following the Boxing Club President's cue, they didn't retreat. Instead, they stepped in and attacked.

That let them avoid Tanaka Yukishin's right hook.

Three pairs of sneakers dragged across the rubber floor, leaving streaks like a storm sketched in charcoal by an abstract artist.

At some point, Karuizawa Kei had bitten her straw flat. Carbonation bubbles kept bursting at the bottom of her cup.

The Boxing Club President used the other two men's momentum, bracing against the white ropes behind him like a wedge.

He turned their attack into an advantage.

Then he charged straight at Tanaka Yukishin beside him.

Their fists collided again, and this time Tanaka Yukishin took a step back.

His shoe scraped against the mat with a shrill squeal. Red blotches from burst capillaries on the president's arms looked like vermilion ink in a ukiyo-e print beneath the overhead lights.

A camera shutter rattled from somewhere in the stands, as if it were putting a pause on the fight.

The Boxing Club President shook out his numb arm and saw that Tanaka Yukishin hadn't reacted at all.

He sighed inwardly.

What a monster. The difference between us was growing more obvious.

He'd taken a step back from that exchange, while I hadn't budged.

And yet my arm was numb, while he was completely unaffected.

Still, I'd known that from the start.

The only thing I hadn't expected was for his stats to be this high.

The three members of the Boxing Club regrouped and resumed their stances.

Sweat seeped through their clothes, and a hazy mist rose from their backs beneath the overhead lights.

For a moment, their shadows overlapped and merged, like the three-headed, six-armed Asura of myth.

"You came well prepared, senpai."

"Not at all. The strong hone their claws and fangs; the weak sharpen their wits."

"As the weaker side, we can't match you in strength, so we have to make up for it with brains."

As challengers, the three members of the Boxing Club weren't about to pick a fight they had no chance of winning.

After learning the difference in their stats, they'd decided to gang up on him.

They'd studied Tanaka Yukishin's brief fight with Charle.

They'd confirmed he didn't like wasting time.

So they'd devised a plan to lure him in.

It had worked, but it hadn't paid off.

That kind of trick only worked as a surprise attack. Now that Tanaka Yukishin was prepared, it was useless.

All that remained was to see whether their numbers and the advantage of boxing gloves could leave him with a bruise before he adapted.

This had even been recorded in Baki.

After losing a leg, Retsu Kaioh went to a boxing gym to beat up some easy targets.

At the time, Retsu was still reeling from Pickle eating his leg. He began to question whether he could continue on the path of martial arts while burdened by such a disability.

The boxers showed him how to fight despite a constraint—in this case, boxing gloves.

And more than that, one of them could even turn that constraint into a weapon.

At some point, every camera in the four corners of the ring had turned toward the fight. Their red indicator lights formed a crimson line like a warning barrier.

The numbers on the referee's timer raced by. The trembling tick of the second hand gradually fell into sync with their heartbeats.

The three men spread out again, taking up triangular positions.

They communicated with glances, circling clockwise, then counterclockwise.

Like a storm converging on its eye, they launched a fierce assault.

Their trained bodies worked in tandem with their practiced techniques.

Their attacks were swift and powerful, and their coordination made them even more formidable.

Within twelve seconds, their fists collided twenty-seven times. Fine wisps of white smoke rose from the leather gloves.

Sweat droplets collided and burst in midair, forming fleeting rainbows beneath the overhead lights.

Fists flashed all around him, but Tanaka Yukishin didn't lose his composure.

As he focused, the punches seemed to slow, and he could see the paths of all three men's fists clearly.

He was still using only thirty percent of his strength.

He kept trading punches with them, knocking them back one after another.

To the people watching below, the four men in the ring looked like four enormous spinning tops.

Tanaka-Go, at the center, spun rapidly into the other three.

Each collision rang out and sent an opponent flying.

But the tops that were knocked away returned to the fight like wolves rallying under their leader.

They launched wave after wave of attacks, surging back and forth without end.

Karuizawa Kei's fingernails unconsciously scratched fine lines into the plastic cup. She suddenly realized that her breathing had fallen into sync with the rhythm of the attacks and defense.

At some point, Kiryuin Fuuka's complexion had returned to normal.

Now, watching this incredible fight, a blush had crept across her face.

She was utterly entranced.

The members of Karuizawa's group couldn't help commenting.

"I never understood why boys liked fighting. Now I think I'm starting to see the appeal."

"Me too."

"I feel a little differently. I used to think, if you have a weapon, why not practice kendo or staff fighting? But now I think I'm beginning to understand, too."

The girl who said this looked down at her trembling hands. At some point, her nails had dug four crescent-shaped marks into her palm.

A muffled sob came from the back rows. A boy was pressing his fist hard against his mouth, a beastlike growl leaking through his fingers.

Koenji Rokusuke could barely keep up with the action, yet his mind naturally supplied an answer.

"Even in ancient times, our ancestors fought other creatures and the forces of nature with their own bodies.

"The blood of battle passed down by our ancestors flows through us.

"Girls aren't like boys, though.

"They gave up their identities as warriors during the course of history and the development of civilization.

"That's also where male superiority came from.

"In ancient times, men and women shared the same responsibilities. There were female warriors, female generals, and queens.

"Although we live in peaceful times now, a passionate fight like this, with fists clashing blow after blow,

"can still stir the fighting blood within us."

In two or three minutes, Tanaka Yukishin had traded more than a hundred punches with the three men.

It felt much more satisfying than beating up delinquents and gangsters by himself.

They weren't as vicious as delinquents and gangsters.

But they put a little more pressure on Tanaka Yukishin.

Their trained, battle-tested techniques, combined with their teamwork, made them far more effective than street fighters throwing wild punches.

Of course, wild punches had their merits, too.

Delinquents and gangsters really did fight like madmen.

During those hundred-plus exchanges, Tanaka Yukishin had already gotten used to the boxing gloves and learned how to box.

With nothing more to gain, he sped up and knocked all three men back at once.

In the heat of battle, their fighting spirit and surging blood had helped them keep punching.

But now that they'd been driven back and their blood had settled, their arms were still numb and aching after dozens of exchanges, even though they had some strength left.

They clenched their fists, realized they couldn't muster any strength, and promptly conceded.

The timer stopped at 4:44. The bright red digits wavered slightly in the mist of sweat.

The president's loose hand wrap slowly spun through the air like the fallen crest of a samurai helmet.

"We lost, but that was damn exhilarating. We owe you one, Tanaka-kun. Let's go get barbecue together later."

"Don't mention it. I had a great time, too."

"Don't go easy on us. You didn't even break a sweat. You're not red in the face or even out of breath."

When Tanaka Yukishin took off his gloves, a thin wisp of white vapor rose from the leather lining.

He lowered his eyes to his palm. Beneath his skin, his capillaries visibly settled, like a shoreline returning to calm after the tide had gone out.

It had only been a few minutes of fighting.

But under the high-intensity, high-frequency barrage, all three men were drenched in sweat.

By comparison, Tanaka Yukishin's stamina was clearly far greater.

And just from how quickly he'd dodged while fighting alone against all three earlier, they could tell he'd been holding back.

Otherwise, even if he couldn't keep up that pace for long, two or three punches would have been enough to knock someone down.

The three of them had only the Six-Nine Fist, after all.

Chapter 23: Friendship Match

The three members of the Boxing Club stepped down from the ring, and Kiryuin Fuuka came over to meet them with towels and electrolyte drinks.