Then, almost imperceptibly, the smile in the phantom's face changes; the irritating smirk disappears, replaced by something calmer and infinitely more unsettling.
Ryoma's brow slowly furrows. The uneasiness lingering beneath his skin refuses to leave.
"...Enough," he mutters. "Stop showing me that face."
The phantom tilts its head slightly. "Whose face do you want now?"
"Miguel Cabello."
"Switching to sparring mode?"
"Yeah."
Ryoma turns away and walks toward the bench at the edge of the gym.
"But give me a minute. I need a short break."
Without another word, the phantom dissolves. Its body fades into a translucent silhouette before unraveling into countless blue strands of light that drift lazily through the air.
The strands weave together again, gradually turning into Miguel Cabello, with Cabello's familiar arrogant smirk, every bit as punchable as Ryoma remembers.
"Better?" Cabello grins. "I bet you're already dying to punch me."
