Even during shadowboxing, Ryoma often loses momentum midway. Nakahara watches him slow to a halt before the mirror, silent, eyes fixed on his own reflection.
After a long pause, Ryoma's hands move again, two sharp jabs, then stop once more. He stands there, thinking. Sometimes he shakes his head, half-crouches, straightens again, like someone arguing with himself.
"I could bait here…" he mutters. Then a sigh. "No, he wouldn't fall for that. He's too experienced."
He resumes bouncing lightly, throws a few probing jabs, drops his guard, stutters a feint, then fires a cross as if countering an invisible punch.
Then the voice in his head, the system, cuts in.
<< What if, not matter what you do, he's already decided not to take the bait? He's a flicker specialist, not like Renji, but the cautious type, like Junpei. He never risks unless he's sure. And now that he's heavier, even his lefts can hurt. >>
<< He'll drag it out, wait for you to tire. Or lure you in, then counter. >>
