Hayate coughed over there and announced only the names of the opening pair.
The voices dropped, and the crowd parted to either side, leaving a path.
Kiyoshi stepped out of the crowd by the platform and entered the center of the ring.
His opponent entered at an unhurried pace, stopped, then cupped his hands and bowed, neither too deeply nor too shallowly.
"Please go easy on me."
The words were impeccably proper, as neat as checking off a delivery.
Before entering the ring, the man straightened his cuffs and shifted the Iron Apparatus to the outside of his arm, as though afraid of bumping someone. He had walked slowly the whole way.
Kiyoshi said nothing and took his position.
Kiyoshi settled in the ring, his weight on the balls of his feet. The more complete the courtesies, the more he wanted to see what lay beneath them.
A section of Iron Apparatus hung diagonally from his opponent's right arm, dull and unconcealed.
The courtesies were too complete.
So complete they seemed measured in advance.
Two turns of cloth wrapped the Iron Apparatus. It clearly had been wrapped that way often.
Hayate dropped his hand.
There were no unnecessary words. This opening was quieter than any of the previous matches.
A sequence of sounds rolled from the Iron Apparatus: three short notes.
The sound did not bore into his ears. It traveled along his bones, making Kiyoshi's wrist go numb.
He retreated half a step.
The sound followed that half step, then stopped.
A second sequence followed, two beats longer than the first.
Each sequence was denser than the last, with a breath's pause between them.
That empty breath was the gap.
The first sequence tested him; the second asked a question. It asked whether there was a pattern to his