VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Most people start 2018 by visiting shrines, watching the first sunrise of the year, or posting optimistic messages online about fresh beginnings and self-improvement. Meanwhile, Nakahara Gym starts the new-year by discovering exactly how much useless junk can accumulate inside a boxing gym over three decades.

Originally, Ryoma strongly pushed the idea of finally buying a proper building. But after several long discussions regarding the upcoming schedule, especially the terrifying amount of money required if Ryoma’s title fight truly happened in Japan, they eventually chose the more cautious route instead.

Rather than purchasing a building outright, they rent a newer two-story property only two streets away. It sounds responsible and financially mature on paper. Unfortunately, that same financial caution also leads to another decision.

And rather than hiring a full professional moving service, they only bring specialists for the heavy equipment. Everything else becomes “a collective effort for the future,” which is the polite version of saying every boxer inside the gym suddenly becomes unpaid moving staff on New Year’s morning.

And naturally, nobody suffers more dramatically than Ryohei.

“This is insane! I’m literally a national champion. There are probably champions in America entering 2018 inside luxury hotels right now. And here I am…”

Beside him, Okabe carries a folded table across one shoulder without sympathy. “And who exactly helped your broke ass become champion?”

“I became champion because of my own effort.”

“You became champion because the old man spent years paying your registration fees while you kept losing split decisions.”

“Why do you always remember only the painful parts?”

“Because those ugly parts are still part of us, dumbass.”

The two continue walking toward the rented truck parked outside while several younger trainees carry gloves, mitts, damaged stools, and random equipment behind them through the cold January air.

Then suddenly, Ryohei slows while looking around. “Wait… Where’s Ryoma?”

Okabe immediately clicks his tongue. “That’s right. Why the hell isn’t he helping here?”

“That guy disappears the moment physical labor appears.”

“He’s probably pretending to be busy.”

“…while we’re out here carrying the old man’s ancient garbage collection.”

Right at that moment, Hiroshi passes beside them carrying a dangerously tall stack of old documents against his chest.

“Stop whining and keep moving.”

“Seriously though,” Okabe says, “where is that brat?”

“At the new building,” Hiroshi answers while continuing forward. “He’s arranging things there.”

Ryohei frowns. “Arranging what exactly?”

“The entire gym layout.”

“…What?”

“He keeps moving equipment around because he says spacing affects movement efficiency while training inside the new gym.”

Okabe stares blankly for a second. “That sounds incredibly annoying.”

“It is,” Hiroshi replies immediately. “But he’s weirdly good at it.”

***

However, the moment they finally arrive at the new building, both Ryohei and Okabe immediately freeze.

Several cameras are already waiting outside the building. A local sports reporter stands near the sidewalk holding a microphone while a cameraman films the freshly installed Nakahara Gym sign above the entrance.

And right in the middle of it all stands Ryoma Takeda himself, casually answering questions like some celebrity invited to a grand opening ceremony.

“…What the hell?” Ryohei mutters.

Ryoma gestures calmly toward the first floor while explaining something to the interviewer. “Yes, the first floor is entirely for boxing operations. The second floor will handle management and promotional work…”

BLUGH!!!

Two stacks of documents immediately crash onto the pavement. Ryoma pauses mid-sentence and slowly turns his head.

There, near the truck, Ryohei and Okabe stand completely frozen with expressions that look genuinely betrayed.

Then Okabe points toward Ryoma with disbelief. “You…”

Ryohei’s face twitches violently. “We were carrying garbage while you were doing television interviews?!”

Ryoma pauses for a moment. Something resembling guilt finally appears across his face, while the reporters continue asking questions around him.

“Ryoma! What’s your target this year?”

“Is Miguel Cabello really your main goal?”

“Ah, sorry,” Ryoma says with an awkward small bow. “There’s still a lot to do.”

Before they can stop him, Ryoma quickly steps away from the cameras and walks toward the truck instead.

“I thought you were suffering together with us,” Okabe says flatly.

“I was working, and…”

“You were becoming an idol,” Ryohei scolds him. “That’s not the same thing.”

Ryoma awkwardly avoids eye contact before approaching the truck where Satoru stands on the cargo bed helping unload equipment.

Without saying much, Satoru simply passes another heavy box down from the truck.

Ryoma catches it against his chest, and before moving away again, he glances back toward Ryohei and Okabe.

“…Why don’t you two deal with them instead?”

And just like that, he walks straight past the reporters toward the entrance. But still, every microphone and camera instantly follows him again.

“Takeda-san, is Nakahara Gym planning to become more active internationally this year?”

“What are the gym’s goals after moving into this new facility?”

“Why don’t you ask my seniors over there?” Ryoma says, gesturing behind. “The Japanese champion is there too.”

The reporters turn, and Ryohei’s eyes widen instantly. Beside him, Okabe even straightens slightly.

Almost instinctively, they quickly fix their posture, adjust shirt, brush dust from shoulders, and clear their throat while trying to look naturally important.

The reporters stare at them for a brief second. Then a few of them quietly exchange uncertain looks.

“…Should we wait until Takeda-san comes back out?”

“Yeah, maybe after he finishes inside.”

And just like that, the entire media group simply turns back toward the building entrance again.

At that exact moment, Aramaki appears from behind Ryohei with a crooked grin in his face. “Oh wow… Looks like the superstar treatment is going well.”

Kenta glances once toward the ignored champion before continuing past him calmly. “Try keeping the interview short. Those documents won’t carry themselves forever.”

Ryohei’s eyebrow twitches. Eventually, he marches directly toward the reporters himself.

“Hey,” he greets, forcing a casual smile. “Happy New Year.”

A couple reporters glance toward him politely.

“Oh, Happy New Year.”

“Cold morning, huh?”

“Looks like moving day’s pretty rough.”

And that is all it becomes; casual conversation without a single microphone raised, camera redirected, or recorder extended toward him. Just trivial small talk about the cold morning air and the fireworks from last night.

“Pretty crowded around the shrine area yesterday, huh?”

“Yeah, traffic was terrible too.”

“At least the weather stayed clear.”

Meanwhile, cameras continue drifting toward the building entrance every few seconds instead, clearly waiting for Ryoma to come back outside again.

Ryohei just stares at them for several long seconds before his patience finally breaks.

“…Wait. Aren’t you people going to interview me or something?”

“Huh? Interview?”

“I’ve got an important title fight coming up too, you know.”

“Ah… right. But we didn’t really prepare anything for that today, Yamada-san.”

Ryohei’s eyebrow twitches violently. “Then stop blocking the entrance and let us work!”

That only makes several younger trainees carrying boxes nearby burst into even louder suppressed laughter as they continue walking back and forth through the entrance.

***

The moving process that should have finished around afternoon somehow drags on until the winter sky turns dark. Most of the delay comes from Ryohei and Okabe deliberately arguing with Ryoma over almost every arrangement decision out of lingering resentment.

Every few minutes, another pointless debate erupts. The heavy bags are too cramped. The ring angle looks stupid. At one point, Okabe even insists the bench placement gives the gym bad fighting spirit.

And despite Ryoma’s Vision Grid System actually producing an absurdly efficient layout for movement inside the building, Ryohei and Okabe seem fully committed to sabotaging his entire afternoon through sheer petty jealousy.

Even then, nobody bothers trying to stop the arguments because everyone is simply too exhausted after working since morning.

Upstairs on the second floor, meanwhile, the small management staff has already started an impromptu meeting of their own, too impatient to wait another day before putting the new office into operation.

“You heard what those journalists said earlier? They said this gym has the potential to become the most dominant stable in Japan.”

“They have valid reasons. Every professional here has strong prospects. Two champions leading the gym, three top contenders with two title fights approaching. Even Satoru just won the All Japan Rookie King.”

“And imagine if all of them become champions simultaneously,” Kurogane adds with growing amusement. “We could spend an entire year stacking title fights one after another.”

Sera chuckles quietly. “There was a time I regretted leaving London for this gym. But honestly… this might actually be the best decision I’ve made in my life.”

“Exactly,” Kurogane says. “You people didn’t just build success here. You climbed with style.” Tearing down every stronghold in the country.”

Hiroshi blinks. “What are you even talking about?”

“First Raging Fox in Kobe. Then Narisawa’s gym,” Kurogane says. “You guys didn’t just beat the fighters. You destroyed the gym’s reputation entirely. And if Aramaki beats Serrano next… even Kirizume’s name might disappear from relevance.”

Sera only smiles faintly at Kurogane’s words, seemingly amused by the exaggeration behind them.

“Anyway…” Kurogane turns to Hiroshi. “Where’s Kaichou?”

“He said he was going to visit Daigo Kirizume at his house,” Hiroshi replies.

Sera blinks once at that. “Visiting Kirizume’s house?”

Kurogane stares for a second before suddenly letting out a short laugh. “Hah… I bet he’s going there for another psywar before Aramaki versus Serrano.”

“Nah… I doubt it,” Hiroshi says with an uncertain laugh. “Nakahara-san’s not really the type for that.”

Kurogane leans back further into the chair, grinning to himself. “Sure, Kaichou always acts like some humble old man drowning in inferiority complex. But sometimes… he can still bite like a lion.”

That finally pulls another laugh from Sera, more amused by Kurogane’s dramatic description than the situation itself.

Meanwhile, Hiroshi only smiles faintly along with them, mostly to hide the strange uncertainty lingering inside his chest.

Sure, there has been friction between both gyms lately. But to Hiroshi, it feels more like quarrels between two stubborn older brothers who refused to admit they still respected each other.

Long before Nakahara Gym rose into what it is today, Daigo Kirizume had helped them survive some of their worst years. If not for Kirizume, Hiroshi honestly doubts Nakahara Gym would still exist today.