Chapter 6: Sparring (1)

The familiar smell of sweat and leather filled the gym as Alex and Ippo stood before Kamogawa. Both were eager yet slightly nervous about the day's lesson. Kamogawa's stern gaze swept over them, his arms crossed, as if weighing their worth.

"Today, we're focusing on shadow boxing," Kamogawa began, his voice gruff but commanding. "This isn't just about throwing punches. Shadowboxing is the foundation of your technique. It teaches you balance, rhythm, and how to visualize your opponent."

He stepped forward, demonstrating his stance with precision. His feet were shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and fists raised in a textbook guard. "Your stance is everything. A strong foundation keeps you stable. Keep your weight balanced between both feet. Move light, but controlled."

Alex and Ippo mimicked his stance. Alex looked relaxed, his confidence a mask, while Ippo appeared stiff, concentrating hard to replicate Kamogawa's form.

"Good. Now, punches. Start with the jab," Kamogawa instructed. "Extend your lead hand straight out and snap it back. Don't just swing—punch with precision and speed."

He demonstrated a crisp jab, the air snapping audibly as his fist cut through it. Alex used his hitman style, delivering a flicker jab—fast and smooth. Ippo's jab, though slower, carried unexpected weight.

"Don't forget to move your feet. Boxing isn't static," Kamogawa barked. "You're always adjusting your position."

The two began moving, their steps clumsy at first. Kamogawa circled them, correcting their form. "Alex, keep your guard up. Ippo, pivot with your punches."

Takamura leaned against the ropes, grinning. "Look at these rookies. Like baby deer trying to walk for the first time."

Alex glanced at him, not paying any attention, staying focused. As the session continued, both found a rhythm. Alex's movements became smoother, while Ippo's punches grew sharper.

"Better. Keep practicing," Kamogawa said, grudgingly approving.

Later, the gym buzzed with excitement as Miyata stepped into the ring for a sparring session against a senior boxer. Alex and Ippo watched, their eyes locked on the match.

The bell rang, and Miyata assumed his signature upright stance, eyes focused on his opponent's shoulders. His opponent, a larger, more aggressive fighter, charged forward, throwing a flurry of punches—jab, straight, even followed by a body uppercut.

Miyata moved like a feather, slipping past each punch with effortless grace. His counters were clinical: a right cross that rocked his opponent's head back, followed by a perfectly timed left body hook.

"His timing is insane," Ippo muttered, clearly impressed.

Miyata's opponent tried to pressure him against the ropes, throwing a wild hook, but Miyata ducked under it, shifting his weight and landing a devastating uppercut that sent the man crashing to the canvas.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Takakura shouted, "Knockout!"

Ippo stared, wide-eyed, his hands trembling slightly. "Amazing… He's so fast and accurate."

Alex shoved his hands into his pockets, tilting his head slightly. "Not bad, but I think I could do it better."

Takamura overheard and burst into laughter. "You? Better than Miyata? Oh, that's big talk. Did sparring with Miyata yesterday boost your ego?"

Alex smirked but said nothing. Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it, he thought.

The next day, Kamogawa greeted Alex and Ippo with a stern look as they entered the gym. "Today, you're working on footwork. Grab the skipping ropes."

The two grabbed their ropes, unsure of what to do. Kamogawa demonstrated, his movements smooth and effortless as the rope flicked rhythmically under his feet.

"This is about timing and rhythm," he explained. "If you can control your feet, you can control the fight. Start slow, and don't trip over yourselves."

Alex and Ippo began jumping, their movements awkward at first. Alex caught on quickly, his athleticism showing, while Ippo struggled, tripping over the rope multiple times.

"Keep going!" Kamogawa barked. "It's not about looking pretty. It's about getting better."

Over the next week, the two dedicated themselves to their training—punching heavy bags, doing technical drills, skipping rope, pad work—each session left them exhausted but faster and stronger.

The week culminated in another sparring match between Miyata and Ippo. The gym gathered around the ring, the gym members speculating how long Ippo would survive this time. The bell rang, and the two fighters met in the center.

Ippo came out aggressive, throwing a series of jabs and hooks with minimal technique but a lot of raw power. Miyata remained calm, his movements sharp and precise as he slipped past Ippo's punches.

"He's reading him like a book," Alex muttered, watching intently.

Miyata's counters were ruthless. He baited Ippo with a feint before slipping to the side and landing a clean cross to the jaw. Ippo staggered but recovered quickly, launching into another barrage of punches.

The gym roared as Ippo landed a grazing left hook, but Miyata retaliated with a brutal three-piece combination: a lead hook to distract, a body shot to sap Ippo's strength, and an uppercut that left him reeling.

"Don't give up, Ippo!" Takamura shouted, his voice booming over the crowd.

Ippo dug deep, managing to land a solid jab, but Miyata's experience shone through. He finished the round with a right cross counter that left Ippo on the ropes as the bell rang.

Though Miyata had won decisively, the crowd cheered for Ippo's progress.

"Good effort, Ippo," Kamogawa said. "You're getting better, but you're still too reckless. I'll teach you some head movement later."

As Ippo stayed in the ring, Alex stepped forward, calm and composed. Not a trace of fear could be seen on his face.

"Your turn," Kamogawa said, gesturing for Alex to step in.

The gym fell silent as Alex faced off against Ippo.

The bell rang, and Alex raised his fists, settling into his hitman style.