Work Text:
The place was darker than expected. It seemed as if all the light they had in the arena was concentrated toward the centre ring, making it blindingly bright; almost painful to look at.
It was a new experience for him to be in the audience, lost in a sea of formless spectators, instead of taking the centre stage with all eyes on him. Nevertheless, they made their way to their seats, shuffling past a myriad of attendees, from the curious onlookers, to the invested observers to the rabid sports fans.
As they sat down, he sensed her discomfort immediately. Her head was down and a shadow was cast on her features. The last time she watched a boxing match in person was far from a pleasant experience for either of them. But with a few deep breaths, the guilt and memories from that time were banished to their proper place, and what remained was an unwavering focus on what was to come.
The ring, when he was in it, felt big as he chased and knocked down his opponents. But now, looking down from his seat, it felt so minuscule. If it weren’t for the fact that it was lit up like the sun, it would have almost no presence. To the billions of people alive on this planet, boxing held significance to only a tiny fraction. But to those in that world, his world, it was impossible to scale the importance that this violent sport had in their lives.
Suddenly, he felt a shift in the atmosphere of the arena. It seemed as if he sensed his appearance before he saw him emerge from the familiar dark corners into the crowded arena, unto the path of glory which led to a simple ring. Centric to the stadium and to their lives. The announcers’ voices assaulted his ears with their overenthusiastic and exaggerated intonations to simply state the obvious. But, their effect was impalpable, as the crowd was whipped into a frenzy before the boxers even stepped into the ring.
Was it always this loud?
Eventually, he noticed that his heartbeat was unusually fast. It wasn’t a feeling that he was too familiar with.
He was nervous.
For the first time in his life, he had anxieties about a boxing match. It was ironic that it was on another’s behalf and not his own.
A slight movement on his side caught his attention. His dark eyes met blue. Then the blue redirected him to the ring, where he desperately searched for the green.
And he found it.
Somehow, without the aid of the screen he was able to lock eyes with one of the few people to show him a glimpse of the light before he fully encountered it himself. And, as this vessel of light stood in his corner of the ring, one thing was certain to him who was watching:
He had already won.
Even if he lost this championship match, he had already won. It was the type of victory that one obtained through the journey it took to get to that point in the ring. The type of victory that bestowed unto him a growth that no loss against his opponent could ever take away from him. The type of victory that announced that through bloodied nose and bruised lips:
“…I’ve already won!... I’m gonna become a boxer!”
With those thoughts, the worries of the one watching completely dissipated. His friend had already won.
Sending him a nod, he was certain that the grin the boxer had on his face was for him. Settling back into his seat, he relaxed as he heard the referee shout,
“Box!”