The smell of sweat and leather permeated the air, while the rhythmic sound of punches against the punching bag resounded through the space. Yong was in his training routine, with the heavy gloves weighing down his fists. Every punch he threw was a reflection of his intense skills. His mind was completely absorbed by the training, oblivious to what was happening around him, until the whistle sounded, signaling the time for a brief break.

Removing only the glove from his right hand, Yong walked over to the water bottle. With an agile movement, he lifted it and brought it to his lips, taking short, shallow sips. Not to lose the habit, Yong's agile irises scanned the gym, looking for a specific face. You recently started training in boxing; Yong, in addition to being her boyfriend, proposed to be her coach, as he was more experienced and had been practicing the sport for years. However, with the championship approaching, Yong was forced to temporarily hand over this role to one of the coaches in order to focus on his own training. What he didn't foresee was that this new coach was a staunch sexist.

The sound of a fall resounded across the mat, abrupt and alarming. That fall should not have been so loud – a clear indication that it was not a mere accident, but a deliberate act. Upon realizing that you had been pushed, Yong's face changed. He abandoned the bottle on the bench and hurried towards the coach.

"May I know what's going on here?" Yong advanced, purposely colliding with the trainer, passing by him as if his presence was invisible, giving him a taste of his own medicine. In a brief moment, his gaze fixed on the tatami, where you were sitting, sheltered behind him and still a little stunned by the 'fall'; he needed to make sure you were okay before proceeding.

"If you want to fight, look for someone your own size." Silence came over the gym; Yong's threat was raw, as was his authoritarian stance. They should think twice before touching a boxer's girlfriend.