Junto Nakatani Wins Close Decision Over Hernandez – Boxing Results

Junto Nakatani got the decision. That part is official. The rest is where it gets uncomfortable.

He beats Sebastian Hernandez by unanimous decision, but only on paper does this look clean. Two 115–113 cards are fair enough. I had the fight a draw. The 118–110 score? That one belongs in a different fight altogether. When the A-side needs protection, the scores tend to stretch. This was not a shutout. It was work. Hard work. The kind that leaves marks. I had the fight a draw.

And that matters, because this version of Nakatani is not the one that scares elite fighters.

A Win That Felt Like Survival

Early on, Nakatani looked sharp. Good rhythm. Clean southpaw work. He found the uppercut and the left hand with timing, and for the first few rounds he looked like the fighter people remember. Hernandez was slow to close distance, eating shots while trying to read the rhythm.

Then the fight turned into something else.

Hernandez started stepping in behind his guard, accepting shots to land his own. He took the center, crowded the space, and forced exchanges. Nakatani stopped controlling distance and started reacting. That’s never a good sign. By the middle rounds, he was trading when he should have been turning. His feet slowed. The jab stopped resetting the action. The eye began to swell.

That’s when it stopped looking like a showcase and started looking like a test he wasn’t fully winning.

The Problem Beneath the Scorecards

The judges rewarded Nakatani for cleaner shots. Fair enough. But clean doesn’t always mean controlling. Hernandez walked through his best work and kept coming. That matters in a division where pressure fighters don’t blink.

Nakatani’s power didn’t discourage him. His timing didn’t stop the advances. His jab didn’t buy him space. And once that happens, the fight becomes about tolerance, not talent.

If Hernandez had a bit more polish, or if the fight had gone two rounds longer, the conversation would be very different. One judge pretending it was 118–110 doesn’t change what was happening in front of us.

The Inoue Question Everyone’s Avoiding

Here’s the part no one wants to say out loud.

If this version of Nakatani shows up against Naoya Inoue, he loses. Cleanly. Possibly early.

Inoue doesn’t plod forward. He cuts the ring. He times exits. He punishes hesitation. The things Hernandez couldn’t quite capitalize on are the same things Inoue lives off. That swollen eye? That becomes a target. That pause after throwing? That becomes a counter.

Nakatani at his best is clever, fluid, and sharp. Nakatani from this fight was none of those things for long stretches. He was tough. He was durable. He was brave. But he was also hittable, static, and forced to fight at a pace he didn’t control.

That’s not a recipe for survival against the top of the division.

What This Actually Means

The win keeps Nakatani moving. Rankings stay intact. The promotional path remains open. But the illusion of inevitability is gone.

This fight didn’t prove he’s ready for the elite. It showed he might be vulnerable when the other man refuses to fold. That’s information Inoue will study closely.

If he’s smart, the next fight is about recalibration. Tightening footwork.  Reasserting authority early. Because the next guy won’t let him off with a close call.

And if this version of Nakatani turns up against Inoue?
That fight doesn’t go twelve.