VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

With the Yoyogi project no longer hanging over his head, Ryoma finally finds himself spending most of his days where he prefers to be: inside the gym.

He still insists on taking the role of chief second for Aramaki’s title fight. Even so, it does not mean Ryoma takes over every aspect of Aramaki’s preparation.

Hiroshi continues overseeing Aramaki’s conditioning and endurance work. Sera remains responsible for footwork, movement drills, and shadowboxing sessions. Nakahara still handles the technical side of Aramaki’s development as a pressure fighter.

That arrangement benefits everyone involved, including Ryoma himself. While Aramaki works through one session, Ryoma can continue preparing for Liam O’Connell without sacrificing his own training time.

Even during that forward slip-and-roll drill, Ryoma remains under Nakahara’s supervision after Aramaki has already finished his own session.

More than a week has passed since he began incorporating the movement into his training, yet the difference between him and Aramaki remains difficult to miss.

“Stay lower,” Nakahara calls out.

Ryoma immediately adjusts his posture and continues.

Several repetitions later, Nakahara calls out again.

“You’re rising too early after the roll.”

The issue isn’t technical anymore. Nakahara rarely needs to correct the mechanics themselves. Instead, his attention keeps drifting toward the subtle signs of fatigue accumulating in Ryoma’s movement.

“Relax your shoulders. Focus on the legs.”

By the time the session ends, Ryoma is breathing hard and feeling the weight in both legs, a contrast that becomes difficult to ignore after watching Aramaki complete the same drill earlier with almost no visible fatigue.

Ryoma rests his forearms on the top rope and lowers his head for several seconds.

Nakahara waits for a moment before approaching.

“So you feel it?”

Ryoma nods once. “Yah… it’s damn hard.”

Nakahara leans against the corner post. “This style isn’t just about body mechanics. The biggest requirement is stamina. And frankly, you don’t have that advantage the way Aramaki does.”

Ryoma wipes the sweat from his chin. “I’ve thought about that too. My assumption is that if I keep training this way, my endurance will eventually improve.”

Nakahara nods. “I don’t blame you for thinking that. And yes, it will improve. But every fighter has strengths and weaknesses.”

Ryoma raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because ‘the Blizzard’ Roy doesn’t seem to have any. He’s technically complete, can outbox, counter, and pressure his opponents for twelve rounds if he wants to.”

Nakahara shakes his head. “Look at your circumstances. You moved up because you could no longer afford staying in Super Featherweight, yet even in Lightweight you’re still dealing with weight cutting. Roy never had that problem. He dominated Super Featherweight first. When he moved to Lightweight, his frame was already ideal for the division.”

His eyes briefly move over Ryoma’s build. “In your case, you’d only reach that same ideal condition if you moved up to Super Lightweight. But once you do, you’ll be dealing with naturally bigger opponents, and an entirely different set of problems.”

Nakahara then gestures toward the other side of the gym, where Aramaki is already running through another shadowboxing round entirely on his own. No coach has given him instructions. He simply isn’t tired enough to stop yet.

“You’re picking up this style surprisingly quickly. But your body isn’t built the same way as Aramaki’s. He is a natural Super Featherweight. He spends the entire year with his ideal fighting weight. He can focus on building muscle without worrying about crossing a weight limit.”

His gaze returns to Ryoma. “But you… every camp, you have to manage your weight carefully. Every kilogram of muscle comes with consequences.”

Ryoma already knows where the conversation is leading. “You’re saying my capacity for storing stamina is naturally more limited in this division?”

“Exactly.” Nakahara folds his arms. “So… are you still planning to continue with this?”

A faint smile appears on Ryoma’s face. “Of course. Not that I plan to chase people around the ring for twelve rounds straight like a pure pressure fighter. I only need it for certain moments. I’ll still pick my spots. I’m only borrowing the weapon, not changing my entire identity.”

That answer finally earns a small nod from Nakahara. “Fair enough.”

Ryoma remains quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. “Wait… If my room for physical development is limited, perhaps I shouldn’t be trying to improve everything equally.”

Nakahara gives him a curious look, allowing him to continue.

“This style relies heavily on repeated level changes, balance, and forward movement. What if we shift the focus a bit toward that instead? Build specifically for mobility and work rate rather than trying to raise every physical attribute at once.”

Nakahara considers the idea before nodding slowly. “That could work. But understand what you’re asking for. More fuel for movement means less room for everything else. If we go down that road, don’t expect your midsection to become harder to break. We’d be prioritizing mobility, stability, and work rate instead of overall durability.”

Ryoma thinks about it briefly before giving a small nod. “That’s fine. I don’t plan to just let my opponents hit me as they please.”

For a moment, Nakahara says nothing, as the answer reminds him of something easy to overlook.

When people talk about durability, they usually think about fighters who can absorb punishment and keep marching forward.

But Ryoma has never belonged to that category. His defensive ability comes from somewhere else entirely: evasiveness, positioning, distance control, and an unusual ability to read what is coming before it happens.

More often than not, his version of defense is simply refusing to be there when the punch arrives.

Eventually, Nakahara gives a small nod. “Fair point. If we’re going to make adjustments, I’m going to discuss it with Hiroshi first.”

He steps through the ropes and climbs down from the ring, a faint chuckle escaping him along the way.

“Good lord… at this rate, the kid might start teaching me a thing or two.”

***

In truth, Nakahara’s pride is never entirely comfortable with Ryoma forcing his way into the role of Aramaki’s chief second. Part of him views Ryoma’s insistence as overstepping.

But as time passes, that resistance gradually fades. More and more, he finds himself accepting Ryoma’s involvement rather than resisting it. And instead of keeping him at a distance, he starts preparing him as a successor.

The thought crosses his mind again as he picks up a pair mitt pads for Aramaki’s mittwork session.

“You wanna take it, kid?” Nakahara asks, offering them to Ryoma.

Ryoma immediately shakes his head. “For this one, especially with Aramaki’s infighting style, there’s nobody better than you.”

Nakahara raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“But I’m thinking about adding another session afterward,” Ryoma says. “More like a rehearsal, still using the mitts. There’s something about Serrano that I want Aramaki to experience through it.”

Nakahara studies him briefly before nodding.

“Fair enough.”

He turns and walks toward Aramaki.

“Get ready.”

“Yes, coach.”

The mittwork begins shortly after with Ryoma watching from nearby, using the session as an opportunity to learn.

He has already helped Ryohei and Kenta with mittwork before, but those sessions come naturally to him because both fighters operate within systems he already understands.

With Aramaki, however, the situation is completely different. The infighting-heavy style that comes so naturally to Aramaki belongs to a part of boxing Ryoma has never truly mastered himself.

As the rounds continue, his focus gradually shifts toward the details behind the session; the positioning, the timing of the cues, the subtle adjustments between combinations. And the way Nakahara guides the exchanges without constantly interrupting them all reveal another aspect of coaching that Ryoma is still trying to understand.

If he is serious about becoming more involved as a trainer, then this is a side of boxing he can no longer afford to leave unexplored.