? Spar ?
The park lay quiet. Trees swayed lightly in the breeze, their leaves whispering, but otherwise, the air felt charged — taut, expectant. Not a single bird dared to chirp, as if even nature held its breath for the moment.
No punches had been thrown yet; only the soft thock of Alex’s fist against Leo’s greeted the tension.
“Who’ll move first?” Lino whispered, barely daring to breathe.
Pinch bounced on the balls of his feet, eager and tense. Tonno’s lips were pressed together, silent. Mira watched in complete stillness, every muscle taut with focus.
Alex inched forward, each step deliberate.
Then—he threw a few jabs, fast and controlled.
The punches cut through the air with crisp precision, straight and clean. They weren’t devastating, but sharp enough to make their presence felt, each movement deliberate and measured.
Tonno blinked. “Alex… is boxing?”
“I expected him to tackle like usual,” Lino said.
Mira’s lips curved into a faint, proud smile. “He knows this is a lesson. He’s trying to replicate what I just showed him. Not bad.”
Leo parried each jab with effortless ease, his hands never straying far from his guard. Alex kept pressing forward, sending out a straight right—careful not to put real weight behind it. Leo only needed a slight weave of the head to make it miss.
Alex dipped and snapped up a compact uppercut, just enough to touch Leo’s ribs.
Leo’s guard shifted instantly, both arms crossing low to block him off.
Nothing landed.
Alex drew back, breath quick.
“His defense is incredible… Doing the right thing at exactly the right time. No wasted movements.”
Suddenly, Leo lowered his hands slightly.
“You’re squeezing too tight.”
Alex blinked.
“What?”
“Your fists. Relax them when you’re not punching. You’re wasting strength just holding on.”
Alex flexed his fingers, realizing how tight his grip had been.
Mira’s eyes softened with quiet recognition.
"As expected... he notices every detail. I couldn't see it at all."
Alex adjusted, easing the tension in his hands, and threw another string of punches. They came faster, lighter. He could feel the difference immediately. But Leo still read every move, parrying and slipping aside with the same effortless grace, his expression unchanging.
Finally, Alex paused, breathing, eyes searching his opponent, waiting.
Mira thought to herself, "Watch the real jabs now, Alex."
The boy's mind raced. "Mira learned from him—so I expect a jab too. I will slip past it or block it."
Alex’s gaze locked onto Leo's left hand, pupils sharp on his left hand.
"Focus."
"Focus."
Then—
“?”
A sudden brush against his face. Leo’s fist grazed him like a ghost passing through.
“I guessed right, but my body didn’t follow.” Alex thought, "It wasn't fast... It was hard to see."
He stepped back, cautious, taking some distance.
"But here—here I should be—"
Another jab flicked past, grazing his hair.
“—safe?!”
Alex jumped back instinctively. Leo just now didn't advance or chase, yet the phantom-like reach made Alex realize: what looked safe wasn’t.
“Damn…” Tonno muttered. "It's just a regular left... yet like everybody, Alex is clueless against it."
“That reach—” Lino said. “He steps in with his lead foot to gain a few centimeters. No magic there, but he does it so subtly and cleanly that it confuses any amateur.”
"Says the expert," Tonno rolled his eyes.
"That's not all." Mira’s eyes never left the sparring pair. “With experience, you can usually tell when someone’s about to punch—some idiots scream it out loud. 'here I go' or 'take this!' kind of stupid thing. Other than that, a twitch in the shoulder, a shift in the elbow, maybe the fist turns too early. The jab is the shortest, quickest strike—most likely to land. But Leo’s taken it way past that.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Not only he keeps his body tight, but also he minimizes shoulder and elbow movement, and twists his fist only at the last possible moment, making it much harder to react to… One second he’s still, next thing you’re thinking—did his fist just teleport in front of my face?”
Circling the unmoving tower in front of him, Alex searched cautiously behind a tight guard for openings, but Leo’s ghostly hand kept him at bay. Helplessness stung.
Suddenly, Leo paused. His gaze held no mockery, no impatience — only quiet command.
“Alex,” Leo said, voice calm but firm, “try bobbing your head a little.” As he spoke, he dipped his own head in a smooth, rhythmic motion, eyes locked on Alex, silently inviting him to follow.
“Don’t just come in straight lines—” He traced an angled line through the air with his arm, guiding Alex’s movement with subtle gestures. ”move diagonally too.”
“Throw something to disrupt my rhythm. Don’t let me do as I please. Also give it time. Your body will get used to my jabs.”
Alex blinked, absorbing every movement, every hint in the gesture. “Yes,” he breathed, feeling a spark of clarity.
“Ready?” Leo asked.
“Ready,” Alex replied, fists raised, knuckles tight but determined.
The sparring resumed.
“Alex! Leo! Alex! Leo!” Pinch’s cheer cut through the tense air, high and eager.
“Guard up! Use your sides!” Mira called encouragingly, arms crossed.
Alex moved. He bobbed his head, threw jabs and straight rights, full of effort, shifted angles awkwardly — yet steadily. Each movement carried a hint of learning, of adapting on the fly.
And then, for a fleeting moment, Alex found his way inside. After a grueling struggle, his fist grazed Leo’s guard, the faintest connection passing through.
"Ouf! It worked," Alex thought. "Did he let me? No… it’s his advice. That made the difference."
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His heart pounded in his chest. He squared himself, ready to push further, to see how far he could reach.
"Now. I can do something here. I will mix it up so I don't get predictable."
He lunged for a tackle this time—
But Leo stepped aside, just a few paces—calm, measured. His eyes fixed on Alex’s footwork, reading every move.
Alex rushes forward again. Leo doesn’t retreat this time— he pivots on his lead foot, slipping just outside the tackle’s path.
For a breath, he’s behind Alex, barely moving at all. Alex turns, but gets another tap to his cheek as soon as he turns.
Again, he had missed his mark… not even a touch, but he remained calm. "He is not as fast as Mira. I will eventually catch him."
He tried once more.
To everyone’s surprise — even Mira’s — Leo stepped forward boldly.
Alex smirked "I got him!"
Tonno thought, "No, Leo! You’ll lose in wrestling! Stick to boxing!"
But Leo didn’t grapple. He went low, meeting Alex shoulder to shoulder. His right leg extended, subtly blocking Alex’s lead left leg, shifting his weight just enough. At the slightest unbalance, Leo pressed forward, shoulder driving into Alex, still guarding his face and side, shoving him backward before sliding seamlessly into a reset guard.
Alex’s lips parted — maybe the first time in his life his tackle had been countered by a boy his size.
“What the…?” Tonno muttered.
"How could I forget..." Lino thought to himself, "Leo is more than just a boxer... he knows how to defend kicks and takedown attempts very well."
Mira’s eyes sharpened. “After two failed attempts, he caught Alex’s weight shift. Then Leo slid into a southpaw stance—right foot forward, mirroring Alex’s lead to cut him off mid-tackle. And that subtle block, combined with his timing and shoulder pressure, disrupted Alex’s momentum and made up the difference in body strength.”
Alex’s confusion grew, yet beneath it ran a spark of thrill. So that’s how someone could stop his tackles. He’d learned something—exactly what Leo meant him to.
Determined, he closed in again. This time, escaping Leo’s jabs quicker. His body got used to them. "If tackles don’t work… then punches."
Alex unleashed a flurry — jabs, uppercuts, straights — fast and desperate.
Leo weaved through the first ones, landing two light taps with his left while Alex was still swinging an uppercut that didn't land.
A gentle touch with a right cross counter countered Alex’s straight, nudging his face just enough to throw off his rhythm.
Alex circled, looking for another angle. Leo feinted left. Alex, wary, shifted exactly where Leo wanted him. A tap from the right landed first in his ribs, then grazed his face.
Another exchange followed. The difference was subtle but critical: Leo kept one hand guarding his face, while the other struck, but Alex swung fully without guarding. Each tap from Leo felt light, almost casual, yet precise — enough to unbalance, redirect, and teach all at once.
Mira caught Lino and Tonno staring at the one sided fight. “What did you guys expect?”
“Well… we thought Alex might at least land something,” Lino admitted.
Tonno smiled. “You know, when I first heard about Leo, I pictured someone huge—bigger than me, or fast like lightning. Then you see him, and aside from that stone-cold face, you think, ‘He looks normal. Maybe I’ve got a shot. Maybe I can even give him a hard time.’”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “And then you’re just standing there, wondering how you’re getting humiliated. Not by speed. Not by strength. Not even just brains…”
Pinch, wide-eyed, tugged at Mira’s sleeve. “Hey, Mira… I never really understood. How come Leo is so strong? And how is he handling Alex even without hitting him hard?”
Mira studied him for a moment, taking in his small frame, his curiosity.
“Listen, Pinch. What makes Leo different are the things most fighters skip, chasing showmanship. He has something scarier than a strong body or heavy hands.”
She let her words sink in, watching the boy’s mind whir. Then she added softly, almost like a lesson whispered:
“Patience. Precision. Control. And above all—"
"The fundamentals of boxing, sharpened to perfection.”
Pinch frowned, unsatisfied. “That’s… it? Fundamentals?”
He puffed his cheeks, thinking. “But that’s boring! I mean—Leo’s awesome and all, he never loses! But…” He tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “You’re more fun to watch, Mira! You move fast—like, whoosh!
"Ah!", he continued, excited "Dante too is fun! He has that cool kick midair! Alex tackles like a—a bull! But Leo just… stands there, waiting.”
Mira smiled faintly. “Right. Boring.” She nodded toward the sparring. “Yet look what’s happening there.”
Alex swung at air, muscles straining, every punch telegraphing his intentions while his opponent moved almost lazily, blinking, shifting just enough to parry, dodge, and counter.
Mira carried on, “Kids—even grown men out there chase some fantasy edge, sometimes a gimmick or some special move they think will carry them through. Leo? He walks away with your pride using textbook technique… the most boring punches imaginable.”
“He doesn’t fight to look cool. He fights like he’s solving a problem. He doesn’t brawl. Why would he? Brawling is noise. And when there’s noise, information gets lost. Leo watches. While you’re swinging, shouting, trying to overwhelm him… he’s counting. Your habits. Your balance. Which shoulder drops first. How you breathe when you’re tired. How you step back when you think you’re safe.”
A pause. Just long enough to let it sink in.
“And once he sees it,” Mira said quietly, “he doesn’t forget it."
“No one came close to challenging him. Unless there’s a huge weight difference, he won’t lose to anybody.”
She glanced briefly at Alex, catching the subtle tension in his shoulders.
"You’re not weak, Alex. You’re strong. I know that."
"But this—" Then her eyes returned to the untouchable fourteen years old, sweating lightly, yet composed, expression calm as he handled Alex like a novice.
"…This is something else."
Alex reset, drawing a breath, forcing himself to steady his thoughts. And there Leo stood—like an unbreakable wall. A stoic statue, right arm still coiled with strength he hadn’t even needed to show, left hand loose yet ready to snap forward at the smallest opening. His guard was tight, posture almost casual, but with a strange elegance, every line balanced and precise. His left foot panted, weight poised, eyes sharp enough to catch every twitch of Alex’s body before it even happened.
Alex’s frustration grew little by little, each tap on his face chipping away at his pride. He was kind, gentle, but like any boy his age, he hated being this outmatched.
“It can’t be that the gap is this big. I don't remember losing a fight in the village. I fought Zack and Mira and it was close.”
"I know this is a lesson. I didn't care about winning. But I didn't land one single tap!"
Suddenly, in his determination, Alex raised his guard too high, shielding the face that had been tapped dozens of times. In his next lunge, he tripped on his own feet. But all by himself, he regained his balance.
Leo’s voice cut through.
“Alex, your guard is too tight. Open up a little, so you can see. And raising it too high leaves your body wide open.”
Alex hesitated, wondering if it would make any difference. Then he adjusted, loosening his guard slightly.
“Like this?”
Leo gave a small nod.
“Better. You want to continue?”
“Yes,” Alex said, determination flaring.
This time, he slipped past Leo’s lefts even faster than before, a small but satisfying victory. For the first time, he felt a flicker of pride.
And then, almost without thinking, he threw a full swing punch with his right hand, aiming at Leo’s liver. It was blocked by the left arm, but Leo’s eyes narrowed sharply, registering both the force and the unmistakable intent behind the strike.
He reset. A precise left jab shot toward Alex’s face, cutting off his view. Cautious, Alex slipped to his left — only to meet Leo’s right hand already waiting. A One-two, delivered with full power this time—an appropriate answer to Alex's earlier strike—but aimed carefully at his shoulder, pushing him back without harm.
"Damn it!" Alex gritted his teeth.
Leo’s arm throbbed from the earlier block. The punch could have hurt him bad if it landed correctly.
"He’s getting frustrated…", he thought. "Maybe this was a bad idea. He is new to sparring after all."
“I think this is enough, Alex." Leo said, relaxing his posture. "If we keep going, one of us might get a serious injury."
“Can we please continue?” Alex replied quickly. “Give me advice like before. I feel I can do better.”
Leo blinked, then smiled.
“I felt bad about interrupting you over and over. You are obviously new to boxing and you can't get better overnight with my words.''
''Also… I thought if I give you a plan, I’ll just know it in advance and counter it.” he added. ''So maybe it's better to stop here and I can leave you with Mira so she can keep teaching you more basics.''
Alex hesitated, opening his mouth, then his eyes fell to the ground.
“I see… it’s just that I’ve learned so much in a spar that I wanted to keep going.”
Leo studied the honest tone, then said,
“Let’s do it this way. Talk to Mira for advice, then we’ll continue.”
Alex’s eyes brightened at the chance. Mira gave him a small, approving nod.
“That way I won’t know what you’ll do. Once we are done, I will give my thoughts on what you can work on and improve,” Leo added, smirking at Mira. “I also want to see what kind of advice that weakling over there will give you.”
“Screw you, Leo!” Mira snapped. She knew the game—knew he was teasing—but it still got under her skin. He just giggled, clearly enjoying the reaction.
Then, turning serious again, he addressed Alex. “Also… remember to keep it light. Just taps, alright? If you're going to punch with full power, go for non-vital spots.”
“Sure,” Alex said, oblivious of his earlier punch, turned and walked towards to Mira.
Pinch, Tonno, and Lino ran towards Leo— scrambled around him, eager to play their part. They bounced on their toes like overexcited coaches, gesturing wildly:
“Keep your guard up!” Pinch called, pretending to scribble notes in the air.
Tonno crouched slightly, demonstrating exaggerated footwork. “Shift! Shift! Move your hips!”
Lino crossed his arms and shook his head. “No, no! Fake an uppercut first, then—bam! Like this!”
"Thanks, coaches." Leo replied.
They weren’t helping much, but their energy made the park feel alive, a playful, chaotic ring around the serious lesson taking place in the center.
Alex reached Mira, who was waiting patiently.
“So?” she asked, eyes sharp. “What do you think of him?”
Alex swallowed.
“He’s… amazing. I can’t even touch him."
"Hah! That's our leader for you!" Mira raised her chin proudly.
"Any advice?” Alex asked.
Mira’s voice softened for a moment, then snapped back into crisp instruction. “Maybe try using feints. For example: Fake a tackle, then throw an overhand. Don’t be predictable.”
Alex blinked. “Yes… wait, what’s an overhand?”
Mira arched a brow. “Ah, right. You don’t know all the names,” she teased briefly, a flicker of a smirk, then her tone returned to business. “You bring your hand forward and down, above shoulder level. Like throwing over a wall. The point is—when he focuses on the tackle from below, you get him from above.”
Alex nodded, eyes narrowing. “Yeah. Good idea.”
“Honestly,” Mira said, “I doubt it’ll work. But it’s worth a shot.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Also… use your brain. You didn’t beat me because you were stronger. You beat me because you were smarter. Try the same here, alright?”
“But I can’t beat him,” Alex muttered, doubt creeping in.
“One tap, and you walk out a hero,” Mira said, grinning, her eyes bright. “You’ll even get my praise.” She held out her fist.
Alex felt warmth stir in his chest. He’d expected scolding. Instead… she was helping. Genuinely. He bumped her fist. “T-Thanks.”
Leo stepped forward again. “Ready?”
Alex exhaled, fists raised. “Let’s go.”
Thank you for reading :)
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