A Planned Bout

[???, A Lavish Manor]

A knock came to a furnished door to an exuberant office, in which one man sat behind his desk.

On the walls were various pictures, and trophies displayed on shelves bearing victories from local and national fighting competitions.

"Come in," the man at the desk of rich wood said.

As the door opened, the one that walked in was the crimson-haired Overseer, though his frivolous attitude was adjusted to one more respectful in the presence of the man within the illustrious office.

"Pardon me," Yusei said, "...You called me over, Boss?"

Turning around in his chair, the man behind the desk revealed himself to be middle-aged with a moderate amount of scruff and unkempt, black hair, dressed in silken, gray robes as he smoked from a fragrant cigar.

"That I did, Ito," Boss replied, "...How comes our sponsee?"

"My sources have informed me Touma has begun training with Chimon Hino," Yusei answered, standing in front of the desk formally.

Boss puffed from his cigar again with a slight laugh, "...Heh. "The Ogre", huh? It's been a helluva long time since I've talked to that man. Our sponsee is in good hands then."

After that, the conversation seemed to end, but the Overseer continued it himself with a question of his own:

"Boss, I've been wondering…" Yusei trailed his words.

"Yeah?" The middle-aged man of influence looked at him.

"What's got you so invested in this young man? I admit, he's very talented, but you've never quite taken a liking to somebody as much as this before," Yusei asked.

Boss smiled, bringing his cigar to his lips, inhaling and exhaling rich smoke before laughing quietly.

"...What's funny?" Yusei asked.

"Touma Daigo is not just "very talented"--he possesses something that shouldn't be held by humans. 'The Eyes of The Victorious'..." The Boss told him.

"The eyes…I've heard of those before," Yusei said.

"It's not by some stray miracle that he has them, it's due to his blood. He shares blood with that man," the Boss alluded to.

Though even the vague suggestion made the Overseer begin sweating at the realization that was suggested to him.

"You're saying Touma Daigo has the blood of…?"

"Yes," the Boss confirmed.

"So what're you planning, then?" Yusei asked.

The middle-aged man shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing. Nothing besides sitting back and spectating his growth–it'll be a fun ride, so pull up a seat, Yusei."

–

[Six Days In]

In class, he was slumped over his desk, completely exhausted with his chin resting against the smooth material.

"Wow…I've never seen you so deflated, Daigo," Ishikawa said, sitting reverse on her chair as she looked at him.

Tadashi adjusted his glasses, "It's quite a training regime you've taken up, I've heard. I do hope you're doing well to balance rest and a proper diet, Touma."

He yawned out before talking, "Yeah. Don't worry–I've got it all handled, it's just," he yawned again, "...a lot."

It was hard enough to concentrate on class, hardly hearing the words that left the teacher's lips, but he also had to deal with Ishikawa constantly showing him posts that either had to do with him or the upcoming Celestial Fist.

[One Week Out From The Qualifiers]

"Thanks for the meal!"

Chimon slapped his palms together in grace before dunking his chopsticks into the piping hot bowl of noodles, shoveling them into his mouth fiercely.

The one part of the deal I have to uphold is treating Chimon to a meal at the end of each sparring session, he thought.

He took to eating his noodles more leisurely while Chimon finished his in under a minute, holding it up to the chef behind the table.

"Another!" Chimon requested.

But…He thought.

"Another!" Chimon requested, finishing his second serving swiftly.

It's always like this…He thought.

"Another–!" Chimon requested once more.

By the end of the meal outing, Chimon had always gone through anywhere from four bowls to ten.

"Here…"

He opened his wallet, not even wanting to look at the bill as he paid for it. Though the price of paying for the boxer's dinner was hefty, he still didn't question it.

He's been spending hours a day with me. This is the least I can do, he thought.

"I've been meaning to ask…" He said.

"Yeah?" Chimon asked, lightly shadow boxing with the air.

"Why're you helping me out like this? I'm not even a member at your gym–I mean, we've got history, but…you've been taking a lot of time out of your day to spar with me," he asked.

Chimon looked forward, stopping his shadow boxing, "Hmm…Why I'm helping ya'?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Well, the easy answer would be "because we're friends!", and that's true, but in truth…I want a horse in this race," Chimon told him.

The answer confused him for a moment as he looked up at the tall, burly man for further clarification.

"What do you mean?"

"I competed in the Celestial Fist once," Chimon told him.

"You did?"

Chimon nodded, "...I did. And I got my ass kicked. I've rarely tasted defeat–but damn was it more bitter than ever that day. Part of that bitterness is still in here," the man jabbed his thumb against his own chest, "...So, I'm placing my bets on you–I want to see victory through your eyes, Touma."

"--"

He fell silent for a moment with a small smile as he walked beside the former boxing champion.

"It sounds stupid, doesn't it?" Chimon asked, "--I just want to be a part of your glory. You're going to be a big deal–I know it."

He shook his head, "It's not stupid. Don't worry–I'm going to win this thing."

"Glad to hear it!" Chimon grinned.

As the two walked back towards the gym so he could grab his normal change of clothes, the sun had already mostly set, leaving an orange sky.

"Say, Touma…" Chimon looked at him.

"Huh?"

The man was looking at his body, "You've really toned up in just one week, huh? You were already doing pretty well for yourself, but I can safely say…you're in peak shape, my friend."

With that observation, he looked down at himself, finding his body chiseled to utmost perfection through the rigorous, daily training he had undergone.

"Yeah, I think I am," he smiled.

He instantly reared his head back from the sudden attack that came in, feeling the sharp air brush against his nose as he looked over to see Chimon had launched the surprise punch.

"--?"

"And your reflexes are perfect," Chimon smirked.

"Heh," he chuckled.

Chimon looked at him, "...Tomorrow, let's put ya' to the test. I guess ya' can call it my "final exam", of sorts."

"Huh?"

"By that…I mean tomorrow, let's fight–for real," Chimon smiled.

He looked at the man for a moment before smiling excitedly, nodding, "Yeah. You're on."

It was a rare opportunity; one he wouldn't miss in a million years.