VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Kanzaki keeps working his right hand with a measured rhythm, never wild but relentless, hammering at Ryoma’s side.

Most blows crash into Ryoma’s upper arm and shoulder. Ryoma can’t even risk jabbing, as his left stays pinned tight to shield his ribs.

All he can do is roll his torso, letting his shoulder take the punishment, his head tilting back just out of range.

No clean punches land, but to the crowd it looks like he’s cowering.

“What’s going on with him?”

“Why’s he fighting like this?”

“This isn’t Ryoma… he never boxed like this before.”

“Don’t tell me Kanzaki’s just too strong for him…”

Kanzaki pauses, taunting, trying to draw Ryoma out.

“What’s wrong? That all you’ve got?”

Ryoma flashes a jab just to slip free. But Kanzaki bats it down and drives a one-two, sharp left then straight right.

He doesn’t overcommit, still holding his ground, piling on steady pressure to trap Ryoma where he is.

Then he breaks off again, another taunting.

“Why’re you hiding now?”

Ryoma flicks his left once more, and Kanzaki slams it away, pounding his shoulder with two heavy rights.

“You think this wins titles?”

Another punishing smash.

“You call this boxing?”

Finally, something snaps in Ryoma. He coils back and throws his right, his injured fist.

Kanzaki flinches, caught off guard that Ryoma dared to use it.

Even Nakahara jolts in shock.

But then…

Ding!

The referee steps in, and then motions Kanzaki back to his corner. But Kanzaki doesn’t move, still glaring at Ryoma with disdain.

“You think you can beat me with the boxing you stole from me?”

The ref taps his shoulder. “Enough. To your corner.”

Kanzaki finally turns away, but not before dropping one last insult over his shoulder.

“There’s no way I’d let a weak-ass coward like you steal my style.”

Catching the shift in the ring, the commentator leans into his mic, voice rising with the drama.

“Ohhh… what’s going on here?”

His partner chimes in, half-joking. “Looks like the senpai isn’t too happy with his kouhai.”

“Yeah, maybe Ryoma’s letting him down with the way he’s fighting.”

Ryoma, on the other hand, just stays where he is, because indeed he has been trapped in his own corner.

Nakahara climbs up, and slaps his shoulder hard from behind.

“What the hell was that?” His voice bites, then drops to a low growl near Ryoma’s ear. “Throwing your right in this fight? You trying to end your career right here?”

Ryoma doesn’t answer. His eyes stay glued to Kanzaki’s back. His jaw trembles, rage rippling beneath the surface.

The urge to smash Kanzaki’s smug face with his dominant hand claws at him. But not being able to unleash it makes his head throb with heat.

The anger only cools down once Hiroshi puts an ice bag on the back of his neck, and then offers him a stool.

“Sit!” Nakahara says. “I know how much you hate this. I hate them too. But you have to calm down. Can’t let you snap and break that right fist.”

Ryoma stays standing a moment longer, glaring across the ring. His Vision Grid flickers to life, scanning Kanzaki’s condition.

But there’s not much to expect from it. He knows he didn’t leave any visible damage on him. So he sits, closes his eyes, steadies his breath, and starts considering his options.

***

High in the stands, away from the noise, Aramaki watches the fight alone. Beanie pulled low, jacket collar hiding most of his neck.

His gaze is fixed on Ryoma, at the man who beat him. He feels gratitude that Ryoma didn’t withdraw, but feels guilty because it was him that broke Ryoma’s right hand.

“Oi, Aramaki! What’re you doing off by yourself?”

He turns, and sees Shunpei Noguchi strolling over, face annoyingly clean for someone fresh from a war with Rikuya Senda.

But Aramaki doesn’t reply. He just faces the ring back, jaw tightening.

Noguchi joins him, smirking. “So you really busted his knuckle, huh? I thought he’d pull out, and then my deal with Kirizume would go to hell. Guess not. Kid’s insane, fighting with a broken fist. Still… looks like he’s about to lose anyway.”

“Rest assured,” Aramaki mutters. “He’ll win this fight, and you’ll get your share.”

Noguchi tilts his head, amused. “My share? And what’s that supposed to be? Him beating me like he beat you? Please. He won’t even survive this fight.”

***

Meanwhile, there’s not much happening in the blue corner, just Kanzaki relishing the moment, already so sure of his win.

He was a bit surprised that Ryoma even considered throwing his right hand. But he still takes it lightly.

“I know his right knuckle injured,” he says. “No mistaking it. Or else, he wouldn’t fight me like he did.”

“But he still threw it,” Tsuchida doubts.

“He was just snapped,” Kanzaki scoffs “He was furious, and I get it. That’s just how he is. It’d be great if he really throws that right hand again. I will be happy to accept it with my face. Well, it’s not like he can touch me.”

Finally, the referee’s voice cuts through the air.

“Seconds out!”

Tsuchida leans in, voice low and urgent as he slips through the ropes. “Don’t give him any room. If you can finish him this round, finish him.”

Kanzaki’s smile hardens into a blade. “I will. I’ll break him so bad he won’t dare set foot in a ring again.”

He still sees Ryoma as soft, some pretty-boy who’s too scared to ruin his looks, a coward who doesn’t belong in boxing.

Even right now, he finds Ryoma standing not too far from his corner, as if he’s afraid to step forward.

Kanzaki chuckles, cruel and light. “What’s the matter? Thinking about running? Too bad… you’re stuck in here with me.”

Something he doesn’t know, Ryoma has gone through much worst, battling a harsh life, had even experienced getting shot in the chest once.

He isn’t scared. His right hand’s still itchy, screaming to be used. But he has to hold his fury, trying his best not to snap and end his career.

***

The bell eventually rings, and referee, as if understanding the odd rivalry between them, doesn’t care waiting for them to touch glove.

He simply chops the air with his hand…

“Box!”

…and Kanzaki lunges, eager to corner Ryoma again before he can slip away.

But suddenly…

Wshht!

Dsh!

Ryoma’s left slices across his cheek. Light, but sharp enough to sting, and it stops Kanzaki from his track.

“The hell…?”

He clenches his fists and surges forward. But again…

Wshht!

Dsh!

Another left, this one snaps against his temple. His right eye flinches shut. Not much weight behind the punch, but it burns. And worse, it interrupts him again.

Kanzaki freezes, glaring at Ryoma. The kid hasn’t moved far from his corner, just a meter out, stance loose. His left hand is dangling low, right hand tucked by his chin.

“What’s going on? How’s he reaching me?”

He’s certain he mapped Ryoma out in the first round, his reach and the speed of that left. Sure, Ryoma’s arms are a touch longer, but not enough to matter. From this distance, he shouldn’t be landing at all.

“Did I misread him? Fine… let’s study him a bit more.”

Finally, Kanzaki lifts his guard high, tucking his chin, weaving as he edges forward with caution. His eyes track every twitch of Ryoma’s body.

When he takes a step forward, then he spots it: Ryoma’s lead foot pivots, torso leaning in, and…

Wshht!

The left hand flicks out at an odd angle, a whip-crack of speed.

Dsh!

It slaps across his forearm, sharp and stinging like a lash.

Kanzaki’s face twists, disbelief flashing through his eyes.

“…Again?”

The color drains from his cheeks.

“What the hell was that?”