The roar doesn't vanish all at once. It thins first, peeling away into pockets of uneasy noise, shouts dying mid-breath as people realize something is wrong. Eyes shift from celebration to concern, from the spectacle to the man tangled in the ropes.
Ryoma isn't moving. And the referee still hasn't started counting. That realization ripples through the arena, confusion spreading faster than fear.
Jade has already turned away. He has taken one step toward the nearest corner. Then another, not toward the neutral corner yet, but toward the blue corner, one hand leaning on the top rope.
His legs betray him. A tremor runs through his right thigh. The motion makes his head swim, the world tilting slightly to the left.
"Hold on," one of the commentators says, excitement draining into surprise. "The referee hasn't started the count yet."
"And look at McConnel," the other adds quickly. "He's not exactly sprinting to that neutral corner."
