Jin went running before the sun came up.
The streets were quiet in that half-awake way where the city hadn't decided what kind of day it wanted to be yet. His footsteps echoed lightly against the pavement, breath steady, ribs still sore but no longer sharp.
Recovery was happening.
Slow.
Unimpressive.
Real.
He didn't push the pace. Didn't chase a number. He just ran, letting his body speak back to him with every step. The stiffness in his legs complained, then eased. His breathing found rhythm.
Six weeks.
The thought followed him like a shadow.
Not long enough to reinvent himself.
Not short enough to ignore.
He stopped at a small park, hands on his knees, stretching carefully. When he checked his phone, there were new messages waiting.
All from Shimada.
SHIMADA:
SIX
WEEKS
AKIYAMA
THIS IS DESTINY
Jin sighed softly and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
The gym was already alive when he arrived.
Too alive.
The door slid open and conversation dipped—just for a moment—before resuming louder than before. Jin felt it immediately. Not staring. Not awe.
Expectation.
Someone had taken the whiteboard hostage again.
NEXT FIGHT???
Three question marks. A badly drawn stick figure throwing punches. Someone had even added flames.
Jin stopped in front of it.
"…I didn't say yes yet."
"You don't have to," Shimada said, appearing at his side like a summoned spirit. "THE GYM FEELS IT."
Mori glanced over from the heavy bag. "They always do."
Sato adjusted his glasses. "Statistically, fighters who compete again within two months—"
"I didn't ask," Jin said.
"I know," Sato replied calmly. "I'm providing."
Aoki leaned over the ropes, grinning. "Six weeks is perfect."
"For what?" Jin asked.
"For chaos."
Kimura didn't look up. "That checks out."
Jin set his bag down and began wrapping his hands. The routine settled him. The buzz faded into background noise. He could still feel eyes on him, but it didn't weigh the same as it had yesterday.
They weren't judging.
They were waiting.
The "gym council" formed whether Jin wanted it to or not.
Mori crossed his arms. "If you take the fight, preparation has to be clean. No rushing. No panic weight cuts."
Sato nodded. "Opponent unknown means fundamentals. Conditioning. Ring control."
Shimada slammed his palm into his fist. "WE TRAIN EVERYTHING."
"That's not how bodies work," Mori said flatly.
Aoki laughed. "I say fight immediately again. Strike while they're confused."
"No," Kimura replied.
Ippo raised a hand timidly. "I think… if Jin feels ready, more experience is good."
Everyone turned to Jin.
He finished tightening his wraps and looked up.
"I'm listening," he said.
And he was.
Coach Kagawa had been silent the entire time.
He stood near the ring, cane resting against his leg, eyes fixed on Jin instead of the argument. When the noise burned itself out, he spoke.
"If you hesitate," Kagawa said evenly, "don't take it."
The gym went quiet.
Jin met his coach's gaze.
"I'm not hesitating," he said.
Kagawa nodded once. "Then decide."
Later, Jin and Mari ended up at a small coffee shop a few streets away. It wasn't planned. It never was. They just walked until neither felt like stopping.
Mari stirred her drink slowly. "You haven't answered them."
"No."
"Why?"
Jin looked out the window at people passing by, all of them moving with purpose toward things that had nothing to do with boxing.
"I wanted to see if the idea bothered me," he said.
"And?" Mari asked.
"It didn't."
She watched him closely. "That's not the same as wanting it."
"I know."
She waited.
"I don't feel finished," Jin said finally.
Mari smiled faintly. "That's a dangerous reason."
"Probably."
She leaned back. "You know it gets harder from here."
"Yes."
"And louder."
"Yes."
She paused. "I won't shield you from that."
"I wouldn't want you to."
Something softened in her expression.
"Good," she said. "Then I'll just walk next to you."
Jin nodded.
That was enough.
The call back to the committee was short.
"Yes," Jin said.
Six weeks.
Preliminary card.
Opponent to be announced.
When he hung up, he didn't feel excitement or fear.
Just commitment.
The gym exploded when he told them.
Shimada screamed.
Aoki tried to lift him and failed.
Mori immediately started sketching a schedule.
Sato wrote dates on the whiteboard.
Coach Kagawa erased the question marks and wrote only:
6 WEEKS
No decoration.
No celebration.
Jin stared at it for a moment, then wrapped his hands again.
"Roadwork?" Mori asked.
"Yes," Jin replied.
The gym moved with him.
That night, Jin stayed late.
The lights hummed softly as the gym emptied out. He stepped into the ring alone and shadowboxed gently, feeling where his body resisted and where it flowed.
Six weeks wasn't long.
But it was enough time to sharpen what he already had.
He stopped, breathing evenly, and looked around the quiet gym.
Tomorrow, the countdown would feel real.
But tonight—
Six weeks was still just a number.
END OF CHAPTER
Author's Note:
Special thanks to Anthony_Cone_3234Anthony_Cone_3234 for the power stone
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