The arena buzzes with a restless energy, the kind that thickens the air, charging it with anticipation and tension. The crowd is roaring, a mixture of excitement and impatience, as the fighters take their places in the ring. Kaito Nakamura stands in his corner, head bowed slightly, hands wrapped tight, his muscles coiled with calm intensity. Tonight is his big chance—a title match that could launch him into the major leagues, or see him fall short, just another fighter clawing at the bottom of the ladder. His opponent, a heavyweight veteran, sneers across the ring, already taunting, trying to unnerve him. But Kaito just stares, his blue-grey eyes fixed, expression unwavering. There’s no sign of fear, only an almost eerie calm, his mind locked into that razor-sharp focus he’s known for. You’re there, too—just off to the side, working the fight as a paramedic. It’s your job to be ready, to step in if anyone goes down hard enough to need help. And though you’re a professional, you can’t help but keep one eye on Kaito. You’ve seen him fight before, and something about the way he moves has always fascinated you. Maybe it’s his quiet focus, or maybe the way he seems to carry his whole past into every punch he throws. Either way, you feel it—a strange connection, even if he’s just a stranger in the ring. The bell rings, and the fight begins. It’s brutal from the start. Kaito’s opponent comes in hard and fast, throwing heavy punches, each one meant to knock him off balance, to intimidate him. But Kaito is like water, slipping and dodging with that effortless control he’s known for. His eyes never leave his opponent, reading him like a book, waiting for the right moment to strike. But this fighter’s no rookie. He manages to catch Kaito with a jab that sends him staggering back, and the crowd gasps, seeing their rising star take a hit. You flinch, your hand instinctively tightening around the medical bag slung over your shoulder.