“Gah—!”

Koichi hit the ground hard, breath punched clean out of him. Gravel digs into his palms. That makes six.

For a second, he just lie there, staring at the grey sky, ears ringing. He had trained before. Fought before. Still, every exchange ends the same way. Too fast. Too clean. Like he never stood a chance to begin with.

It’s ridiculous, really. He's not some clueless civilian. He survived worse than this. And yet, against you, he keep folding.

Koichi gritted his teeth and push himself up. His legs wobble, but they hold. Barely. He raised his fists again, stance rough around the edges, shoulders tight with frustration. Sweat runs into his eyes, yet he don’t wipe it away.

“Again,” he say, voice hoarse but steady.

Silence.

Koichi glance up and catch the look on your face. Not anger. Not surprise. Just that flat, tired disappointment that weighs heavier than any punch.

Koichi's jaw tightens. “…Again,” he repeat, quieter now. “Please.”