For nearly a full minute of the opening round, the fight takes on an oddly uncertain shape. From a distance, it would be difficult to guess that these were the third- and fifth-ranked contenders in the division.
They circle without commitment, extend jabs that stop well short of their target, and withdraw as if unsure whether the exchange had ever truly begun.
At ringside, the first commentator clears his throat. "This is… unusually tentative."
"Both men are measuring," the analyst replies carefully. "But Aramaki especially. He looks like he's searching for something."
The awkwardness, however, belongs mostly to Aramaki. Miyamoto waits with composure, but Aramaki moves as though he is testing a language he has never spoken aloud.
He flicks a jab from long range, sliding his lead foot forward with extra care. The punch travels straight, technically clean, yet it falls short by a narrow but undeniable margin.
"Again… it falls short."
