When the bell for the sixth round rings, Kenta's face is already looking fresher than before. The swelling has gone down noticeably, and the cut above his right brow has been sealed cleanly with Vaseline, no blood running this time.
From the outside, he looks recovered. But the earlier sharpness isn't there anymore. His awareness spreads wider than he wants it, no longer narrowed and cutting straight toward the opponent in front of him.
The focus he had been holding onto is gone, replaced by a restless drift as his thoughts begin to branch again, circling back to the interruption he was forced out of.
"Damn referee…" he mutters under his breath. "All that just for what…? A small cut?"
Across the ring, Della Cruz rolls his shoulders once, already stepping forward with the same intensity he carried from the previous round.
"Come on, old man… let's heat this arena up."
At ringside, the commentators pick it up immediately as both fighters begin to step out of their corners.
