VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Ryoma grins, amused by Kanzaki’s current state. He isn’t completely drunk, but Ryoma’s Vision Grid system already warns him that the alcohol is starting to sink in.

***

[SCAN: SUBJECT – TORU KANZAKI]

Pupil Response: +0.18s delay (sluggish)

Blink Rate: 27% above baseline

Facial Tension: Reduced (jaw muscles relaxed)

Speech Clarity: Slight slur detected, 11% deviation

Postural Control: Mild imbalance, center of gravity shifted 4° left

Analysis: Subject exhibits early-stage intoxication. Motor precision compromised; inhibition lowered. Cognitive focus reduced, but emotional expression heightened.

***

Knowing this, any reasonable man would back off and avoid trouble. But Ryoma isn’t looking for peace. Trouble is exactly what he wants.

“Excuse me… do I know you?” he asks, narrowing his eyes, playing dumb.

Kanzaki’s face twitches. “Don’t play dumb with me, kid. Don’t act like you don’t know who I am.”

“Wait… I do know you,” Ryoma says, his tone smooth, almost mocking. “You’re that boxer from Minato Bayside Gym. The one I’m supposed to fight next. And those guys…” his chin tilts toward Kobo and Tsutomu, “…they came to my gym first, asking me to teach them the basics. So what’s this? What are they doing here with you? Don’t tell me… no way… you really sent them to spy on me?”

Tsutomu shoots up, defensive. “Watch your mouth! I went to your gym because I wanted to join. I changed my mind, that’s all. Me joining Minato now has nothing to do with you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kobo sneers. “We just didn’t like that dump you call a gym. No equipment, no facilities, nothing compared to Minato’s gym. And spying on you for Kanzaki-san? Please. You’ve only got two pro fights under your belt. Don’t get cocky. You’re in over your head.”

Ryoma scoffs, leaning back with a grin. “Funny words, coming from a guy whose face I turned into a punching bag. You talk big, even after eating dirt. Guess you learned that from your senpai here.”

The jab lands. Kanzaki slams his palm against the table, rattling cups, drawing startled looks from the café staff.

Kaede’s coworkers jolt in unison, shoulders jerking as if an earthquake just hit their booth. Aemi’s chopsticks clatter against her plate, her eyes darting nervously between Kaede and the boxer across from them.

Across the table, Kobo and Tsutomu’s girls freeze as well, their smiles slipping into uneasy half-forms. One of them shoots a wide-eyed glance at Tsutomu, silently asking what the hell just happened.

For them, this was supposed to be just another group meal, laughing and eating with friends. Now, out of nowhere, the air feels like it’s about to split in two.

Kaede stiffens, immediately stepping in, hands raised as if to hold back a storm. “Kanzaki-kun, please. Don’t get angry. He doesn’t mean to offend you. If only he knew…” Her voice softens, almost pleading. “…that we all went to the same high school…”

Ryoma cuts in fast, feigning surprise, pointing between himself, Kaede, and Kanzaki. “Wait… he went to the same high school as us?”

“Yes, Ryoma,” Kaede says carefully. “He was my classmate.”

“Your classmate? Aaaah, right…” Ryoma’s voice drips with mock recollection. “Now I remember. You introduced him to me once, back when I wanted to join the boxing club. Yes… this is Toru Kanzaki, the club leader. The guy who told me I was too soft, that I should quit.”

Ryoma’s smirk widens, his voice lilting with mock innocence.

“And guess what happened? I won the Interhigh, something he couldn’t do. And not just once… but twice.”

For a moment, silence hangs over the table. But Kaede isn’t fooled. She can see it now; every grin, every feigned squint, every “wait, do I know you?” line.

Ryoma never forgot Kanzaki. He’s been acting ignorant on purpose, stringing Kanzaki along, poking him until he snapped. And judging by the way Kanzaki’s jaw flexes, he’s about one insult away from lunging across the table.

From the corner of her eye, Kaede spots a café staffer nervously approaching, concern etched across her face. Before things spiral further, Kaede pushes herself up and intercepts the woman, bowing quickly.

“I’m sorry,” she says, forcing a polite smile. “We’ll be leaving now. Please excuse us for the trouble.”

She turns back to the booth, gathering Aemi and the other coworkers with brisk authority.

“Guys, let’s go.”

Chairs scrape as the group rises, shuffling awkwardly toward the exit. But Ryoma doesn’t make it easy.

“Whoa, whoa, Kaede,” he says, raising his hands, grin never fading. “I haven’t even finished my meal yet…”

“Enough, Ryoma,” she cuts him off, grabbing his arm. “We leave!”

She drags him toward the door, ignoring his chuckle as he goes along half-willingly, like a kid being hauled out of class.

Behind them, Kanzaki explodes, throwing his hand like challenging him for a fight. “Yeah, that’s right! Run! Leave, coward! Before I smash your face and break that pointy nose of yours!”

Ryoma twists halfway around, his grin sharper than ever. “Coward? You want to go outside then? Come and see if I’m really that soft!”

But before he can finish, Kaede’s hand clamps over his mouth. Her eyes blaze with warning as she hisses, “Enough. Act like a grown-up for once.”

Ryoma only chuckles against her palm, eyes still locked on Kanzaki, enjoying every second of the fire he lit.

Even as Kaede pulls him along, Ryoma doesn’t stop grinning. It isn’t the grin of a nervous kid dodging danger, but of someone who’s perfectly entertained by the chaos he just caused.

Kanzaki sees it. And it tips him over the edge. Chairs screech as he shoots up, fists clenched, his whole body trembling with the urge to chase.

“You think this is funny?! Come back here, you little punk!”

But before he can storm after Ryoma, Tsutomu latches onto his arm, Kobo grabbing his shoulder from the other side.

“Kanzaki-san, no!” Tsutomu hisses, voice sharp with urgency. “Not here. Not outside the ring.”

“You’ll risk everything!” Kobo adds, teeth gritted as he braces against Kanzaki’s pull. “What if someone records it? You’re a licensed pro. You’ll lose it all if you brawl in a café.”

Kanzaki’s chest heaves, breath hot. For a moment, it looks like he might tear free anyway. But the weight of their words seeps in, battling against the heat in his blood.

Finally, he stops struggling, though his fists remain tight at his sides, knuckles white.

“That damn brat…” he mutters under his breath, fury barely leashed. “Next time it’s in the ring… I’ll make sure to break his nose.”