At the end of the session, Miguel and Danny gathered all the fighters around the center ring. The gym fell quiet except for the distant sound of heavy bags being hit.
"Tomorrow’s December twentieth," Miguel announced. "End of year sparring day. We’re doing sothing special."
The fighters leaned in. Miguel’s tone suggested sothing bigger than usual sparring.
"Tommy versus Jamal. Devon versus Javier. We’re making this a real event. Fans can pay to watch, we’re bringing in official judges, and local trainers will be attending."
Excited murmurs rippled through the group. This wasn’t just sparring anymore - this was a real amateur boxing event.
"You all rember the rules?" Miguel asked.
Everyone nodded.
"Let remind you anyway. Rounds: 3 rounds, 2 minutes each, 1-minute rest between rounds. Scoring: 10-point must system - judges score each round based on clean punches, defense, ring control. Gear: Headgear, mouthguard, groin protector, 10-12 oz gloves depending on weight. The referee can stop the fight early for safety - that’s called RSC, Referee Stops Contest."
Miguel’s voice grew serious. "Fouls will get you disqualified if repeated: No hitting behind the head or below the belt. No holding or wrestling. No hitting after break or bell. No using the elbow, shoulder, or spinning backhand. And rember - no knockouts encouraged. Focus is on skill, not brute force."
Danny stepped forward with a grin. "Co get your gear! We already bought everything you need. Full protective equipnt for tomorrow’s matches."
He gestured toward the senior fighters. "Just so you know, the senior fighters tomorrow won’t be using full protective gear - only you guys will have headgear and body protectors."
A mix of nerves and pride filled the air. Jamal cracked his knuckles with a grin. Devon shadow-boxed a few punches. So of the other fighters started talking trash good-naturedly.
Vicente leaned against the wall as Javier wrapped his hands. "First real test. Don’t fight the ghost in your head. Fight the one in front of you."
"What do you an?"
"All those old fears, all that doubt - that’s the ghost in your head. Devon’s just a kid like you. Flesh and blood. You’ve trained for this mont."
Javier nodded, finishing his hand wraps. The announcent had sent electricity through his system. Purpose, maybe.
"Are you nervous?" Jamal asked, appearing beside him.
"Yeah."
" too. First ti with judges watching."
"Think there’ll be a lot of people?"
"Probably. Miguel’s been talking it up all week."
Jamal grinned. "It should be fun though. Been wanting to see what Tommy’s got."
**************
Group ho dinner was the usual chaos. Kids complained about final exams, made plans for holiday visits that probably wouldn’t happen, and argued over television privileges. The routine felt comfortable now.
"Are you really fighting tomorrow?" Kevin asked, sitting across from Javier.
"Sparring. It’s different."
"Looks the sa to . Two guys hitting each other."
"It’s controlled. Educational."
"Still sounds like fighting."
Dr. Vasquez appeared at their table, clipboard in hand. "I heard about tomorrow’s event. Are you boys ready?"
"As ready as we can be," Tommy said.
"Miguel called . Said you’ve both shown exceptional dedication. I’m proud of you."
"Thanks, Dr. Vasquez."
"Just rember - win or lose, you’re still part of this family. Boxing doesn’t change that."
After dinner, Javier and Tommy laid out their gear in the dormitory. Hand wraps, mouthguards, gym clothes. Everything checked twice.
"You think Devon hits hard?" Tommy asked, examining his mouthguard.
"Harder than the heavy bag. But you’ve been hit before."
"Not in a real match."
"It’s still just sparring. Miguel’s not gonna let anybody get seriously hurt."
"What if I ss up?" Tommy asked, examining his mouthguard.
"You won’t," Javier said, folding his hand wraps neatly.
"But what if I do?"
"Then you ss up. It happens." Javier shrugged, placing his gear in his gym bag.
Tommy set down the mouthguard and stretched out on his bed. "Easy for you to say. You’re good at this stuff."
"We both are. That’s why Miguel picked us for tomorrow."
"Yeah, maybe." Tommy stared at the ceiling. "Just wish I felt more ready."
Javier zipped up his bag and sat on the edge of his bed. "Nobody ever feels ready. We just show up anyway."
**************
Lights out ca at ten PM. The dormitory settled into its usual quiet - muffled conversations, soone coughing, the distant hum of the building’s heating system.
Javier sat at his desk, flexing his hands in the darkness. Training had changed his body in ways he could see and feel. Muscle definition in his arms and shoulders. Calluses on his knuckles. The kind of physical confidence that ca from knowing you could take a punch and keep standing.
He tapped his temple, activating the system interface.
[ BOXING SYSTEM PROFILE]
Na: Javier Restrepo
Age: 17
Nationality: USA
Weight Class: Middleweight (158 lbs)
Style: Swarr
Stance: Orthodox
Record: 0-0-0 (Amateur Debut)
[Tap to View More:]
◉ Core Stats
◉ Skills
◉ Style Traits
◉ Status
He tapped "Core Stats."
[ BOXING SYSTEM PROFILE ]
◉ Core Stats
STRENGTH: 68/100
SPEED: 72/100
ENDURANCE: 71/100
TECHNIQUE: 64/100
AGILITY: 73.5/100
POWER: 61/100
RING IQ: 45.9/100
◉ Skills
◉ Style Traits
◉ Status
Most of the numbers are in the sixties and seventies. Progress felt real and earned.
He tapped "Style Traits."
[ BOXING SYSTEM PROFILE ]
◉ Style Traits
SWARR: 62%
BOXER-PUNCHER: 35%
COUNTERPUNCHER: 23%
OUTBOXER: 14%
◉ Core Stats
◉ Skills
◉ Status
Swarr was erging as his dominant style. Aggressive, volu-based, always moving forward. It matched his personality - direct, relentless, unwilling to back down.
He tapped "Skills" and scrolled through the list.
[ BOXING SYSTEM PROFILE ]
◉ Skills
JAB: Interdiate (67/100)
CROSS: Interdiate (61/100)
HOOK: Proficient (58/100)
UPPERCUT: Basic (41/100)
FOOTWORK: Interdiate (63/100)
DEFENSE: Proficient (52/100)
HEAVY BAG: Interdiate (51/100)
◉ Core Stats
◉ Style Traits
◉ Status
Everything showed steady improvent except sparring, which made sense. Tomorrow would change that number significantly.
He tapped "Status."
[ BOXING SYSTEM PROFILE ]
◉ Status
CONDITION: Excellent
MUSCLE DEVELOPNT: High
INJURY STATUS: None
READY FOR SPARRING: Yes
◉ Core Stats
◉ Skills
◉ Style Traits
Vicente materialized beside the desk, his ghostly form more solid than usual in the darkness.
"Look how far you’ve co," Vicente said, his voice soft with sothing like pride. "You move like a real fighter now."
Javier flexed his hands, studying the calluses on his knuckles. "Devon’s gonna be tough tomorrow."
Vicente leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "He’s good. But he fights angry. You fight smart."
"What do you an?"
"I watched him spar last week. Throws hard but shows everything. Gets frustrated when things don’t go his way." Vicente’s eyes grew distant. "I used to fight angry too. Cost fights I should have won."
Javier turned in his chair to face the ghost. "What changed?"
"Experience. Pain. Learning that anger burns energy faster than anything else." Vicente stepped closer. "Tomorrow, stay calm. Let him get frustrated. Then pick him apart."
Javier closed the system interface and lay back on his narrow bed. The statistics felt good, but tomorrow will test more than numbers. It would test heart, will, the kind of intangible qualities that separated fighters from athletes.
"We got this, right?" Tommy whispered from across the room.
"Yeah," Javier replied, staring at the ceiling. "We really do."
The alarm clock glowed at 10:47 PM. In eight hours, they’d wake up for their final training session before the matches. The system interface pulsed faintly in the darkness, a reminder that tomorrow would change everything.
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