VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

The truth hits her slowly, painfully. What she thought was harmless now feels like a betrayal. The color drains from her face. Beside her, Aki says nothing, her silence a quiet judgment.

“I didn’t mean to…” Reika starts.

But Ryohei cuts her off. “Save it. Pack your things. And get out.”

Suddenly, a booming voice breaks through.

“That’s enough!”

Coach Nakahara’s tone silences everyone. He stands in the doorway, Hiroshi behind him, eyes blazing.

“Didn’t I tell you this matter was closed?”

Okabe clenches his jaw. “With all due respect, Coach, she doesn’t belong here.”

“This is my gym,” Nakahara says quietly. “I decide who stays. If you can’t respect that, the door’s right there.”

The words hang like a challenge. Okabe’s pride snaps before his voice does. He turns away, gathering his things.

Ryohei hesitates, then follows, muttering as he passes Reika: “This is on you.”

Silence swallows the gym. The dull rhythm of gloves against sandbags fades. Reika can’t move. Shame pins her in place until she picks up her dropped car keys, and leaves.

Nakahara lifts a hand, as if to stop her, but the words never come. He just stares at the empty space she leaves behind.

Aki lingers, her voice quiet. “So it’s true. Ryoma really is retiring?”

Nakahara nods.

Aki’s expression softens. “It’s such a waste. Japan’s losing a rare talent.”

He exhales heavily. “There’s still time, more than a month before his next fight. Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

“And if he doesn’t?” she asks. “If tickets go on sale and the fight’s canceled, the JBC won’t like that.”

“I’ll tell them three weeks before the Final,” he says. “Until then, please keep this quiet.”

Aki nods. “You have my word.”

She bows and leaves, and with her departure the gym feels emptier still, the last echo of hope flickering out.

***

Reika’s car is still parked by the curb, engine off. Aki slips into the passenger seat, shutting the door softly.

Reika sits behind the wheel, motionless. Her grip on the steering wheel is so tight. She’s not crying. She’s furious.

For a long time, neither speaks. Until finally…

“They had no right to treat me like that,” Reika says, voice quivering with heat. “After everything I’ve done for them? What did I even do wrong? I just posted one stupid video. One. And they act like I’ve committed a crime.”

Aki watches her silently, the kind of silence that carries more weight than argument.

“They’re hypocrites,” Reika continues, her tone hardening. “That gym is a dump. Nakahara’s just a washed-up relic clinging to pride. And those two idiots, what were their names? Ryohei and Okabe? Nobodies. I helped them. I bought gears, upgraded the place. And this is how they repay me?”

Aki’s voice finally cuts through, calm but sharp. “Did they ever ask you to buy anything?”

Reika blinks, caught off guard. “I didn’t buy it for them,” she snaps. “It was for Ryoma.”

“Then why not take it back?” Aki asks quietly. “He’s not training there anymore.”

Reika’s glare falters. “Aki, what’s with you? Why are you taking their side? You’re supposed to be my friend!”

“Your friend?” Aki’s tone turns cold. “Tell me, what part of this am I supposed to defend?”

Reika stares, speechless.

“You’re selfish, Reika,” Aki says. “Everything you’ve done; those videos, the gifts, the visits, it wasn’t for Ryoma’s career. It was for you. You wanted to feel close to him. Important. Like he belonged to you.”

“That’s not true!” Reika shouts. “I just wanted to help him!”

“Help him?” Aki’s voice rises. “By leaking his sparring sessions to the whole world without permission? I knew you were crossing the line, but I kept quiet. And now I’m the one who looks unprofessional. You don’t even see what you’ve done to me.”

Reika frowns, lost. “What does your reputation have to do with this?”

Aki laughs once, bitterly. “Everything. You were only there because they trusted me. When you broke that trust, you dragged me down with you.”

Reika’s eyes flash. “So now it’s all my fault? You sound just like them. I cared, that’s all. Maybe too much, but at least I cared!”

Aki closes her eyes briefly, then says quietly, “Caring too much doesn’t give you the right to cross boundaries.”

Reika looks away, already not thinking about Aki anymore. Her mind drifts back to her father, to the bet they made about Ryoma’s success.

Her father never makes idle wagers. If Ryoma had simply lost, that would have been fine. But he quit, and that, in her father’s world, meant weakness. It meant she had backed the wrong man.

If Ryoma doesn’t fight again, it won’t just be his career that’s over. It’ll be her credibility at home.

The thought burns. Without warning, she starts the car, and the engine growls to life.

Aki opens her eyes, startled. “Where are you going? Don’t tell me you’re planning to see him.”

“Of course I am,” Reika says, eyes locked on the road. “He’ll go back to the gym. I’ll make him.”

Aki’s temper cracks. “Are you out of your mind? Do you even know what he’s going through? His mother nearly died, Reika. He doesn’t need you showing up and making it worse!”

Reika doesn’t respond. The car rolls forward, her face set in stone.

Aki presses on, desperate. “He’s not even sure he’s retiring yet! He just needs space. Let him breathe!”

But Reika’s beyond reason now. She’s already made her choice.

They reach the Y-junction. Up ahead, Takeda Barbershop glows quietly under the sun. Inside, Ryoma works, scissors flashing, calm and focused, as if he’s already built a life that no longer includes the ring, or her.

“Unbelievable,” Reika mutters, her chest tightened. “He’s supposed to be training, not playing barber.”

Then she sees someone approaching the shop, Kaede, walking with that calm self-assurance Reika has always hated. Kaede spots the car too, their eyes meet for a brief electric instant. Then Kaede turns away and steps inside.

Reika’s foot eases off the pedal, and pulls over before the zebra-cross. Her pulse spikes, fury and panic tangling in her chest. Kaede’s presence feels like a slap, like proof that she’s already been replaced.

Her fingers dig into the wheel. The sound of her breath fills the car as she shifts the gear. Aki looks at her, alarm rising in her eyes.

“Reika,” she says quietly. “Don’t.”

But Reika’s expression hardens, the fury in her voice barely contained. “He’s not done yet. Not with me.”

And she presses her foot down on the gas.

“He’s mine. And he’ll do what I say.”

But as she parks the car by the curb, collecting his courage, Ryoma comes out first, already looks ready for a roadwork.

Aki quickly opens her door and steps out, hoping to intercept before Reika does something rash. Ryoma notices her first and greets lightly, surprised but unbothered.

“Oh, you are here. But I’m planning to leave for the gym now,” he says.

Aki blinks, momentarily thrown. “The gym? But Coach Nakahara said… you’re retiring.”

Ryoma nods. “Yeah, I was. But I’ve changed my mind.”

Relief and confusion mix in her voice. “What about your mother?”

He smiles faintly, genuine warmth softening his features. “She’s much better. My girlfriend’s with her now, so I can focus again.”

The word girlfriend lands like a knife. Behind the windshield, Reika freezes, her hand still gripping the wheel.

Slowly, she steps out, her expression caught between disbelief and confusion, as if the world’s logic has suddenly turned on her.

Ryoma barely notices, already takes off down the street, crossing the road.

“Can’t wait to get back. It’s been too long.”

Reika stands by the curb, staring after him. She should be happy that he’s returning to the ring, that the dream isn’t dead. But the sight twists in her chest.

It wasn’t her that brought him back. It was Kaede. And the victory she wanted most doesn’t feel like hers at all.