VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Standing near the ropes, Ryoma’s not even turning his attention toward Aramaki. His eyes stay locked on Serrano’s stride from across the ring while his Vision Grid quietly does its work in the background.

Observing every step, every weight transfer, every tiny adjustment hidden beneath the performance.

And after several seconds of observation, a familiar voice finally speaks.

>

>

The voice fades, and Ryoma finally turns his attention to Aramaki.

Sitting on the stool, Aramaki is still breathing harder, his face showing the early signs of swelling from Serrano’s punches.

Ryoma quietly studies him, measuring the accumulated damage to estimate how much more punishment he can withstand.

He knows Aramaki won’t leave this fight unharmed. Serrano is far too good for that. By the end of the night, there will be a price to pay. The important thing is making sure Aramaki pays it as the new champion.

For a brief moment, Ryoma’s gaze drifts toward ringside and catches the worry on Kaori’s face. But he immediately looks away.

He crouches in front of Aramaki. His face remains cold, and when he speaks, there is no emotion in his voice.

”Hey, I know you’re hurting. But he’s hurting more. That’s the only number I’m interested in. I’ve already dragged this fight into territory you’re familiar with. From here on, it’s just you and him hurting each other until one of you can’t keep up anymore.”

Aramaki stares into his eyes for a moment, his expression serious before giving a firm nod, fully aware that from this point on, everything rests in his hands.

***

The seventh round begins with Serrano still following Kirizume’s instructions. He circles, works behind the jab, and looks for angles before committing to anything substantial.

But before even thirty seconds have passed, Serrano finds himself abandoning the structure once again. The footwork can no longer create enough separation to comfortably reset.

Every time he gains space, Aramaki takes it back. Every time he reaches an angle, Aramaki is already narrowing the next exit.

Despite that, Serrano’s defense remains remarkably slick. He bends from the waist, slips under hooks, rolls away from straights, and answers with counters to the body and the side of the head.

”Oh, look at that! Serrano just made three punches miss and still found a counter on the way out!”

”And Aramaki doesn’t even slow down! Most guys would reset after that, but he’s already stepping right back in!”

”This pace is ridiculous! They’re forcing each other to make decisions every second!”

”You can’t relax against either of these guys right now. One mistake and you’re getting hit clean!”

”Listen to this crowd! Every exchange feels like it’s one punch away from exploding!”

The crowd keeps roaring every time Serrano makes punches miss by inches before snapping something back in return.

Yet despite all that skill, Aramaki keeps landing where it matters. The body shots continue finding their mark, especially around the waist and lower ribs where Serrano’s defensive movements naturally expose openings.

”And there it is again! Aramaki keeps sneaking those shots into the body!”

”Serrano’s making him miss plenty, but he just can’t stop every punch from getting through!”

***

As the rounds pass, a pattern quietly develops. Every time the bell rings, Serrano remains standing a little longer, watching his opponent’s back with growing irritation. The damage bothers him less than the fact that someone like Aramaki is capable of inflicting it.

The pattern continues all the way to the end of the eighth round. The right side of Aramaki’s face swells even further from the constant jabs, and his nostrils are stained red with blood. Yet when the bell rings, his stride remains steady as he walks back to the corner.

And Serrano, once again, stays where he is and watches him leave. His face is still remarkably clean for a man who has spent so many rounds in a war, but his legs tremble for noticeably longer now.

This time, there is hardly any reason to hide it. The discussion has already started.

”You know, we’re seeing it more and more between rounds.”

”Yeah, Serrano keeps lingering after the bell, and I’m starting to wonder if that’s confidence... or if he’s trying to buy a few extra seconds for those legs.”

”Because Aramaki has been working on the body for rounds now. Eventually, no amount of talent can stop that kind of investment from paying dividends.”

By the ninth round, the structure is gone entirely even from the opening. The bell sounds, and the fight immediately erupts into another furious exchange.

”They’re not even trying to establish distance anymore!”

”No, they’re meeting each other right in the middle of the ring!”

”Look at Serrano! Every time Aramaki steps in, he fires back immediately!”

”And Aramaki just keeps coming! He eats one shot, lands two to the body, and keeps moving forward!”

The crowd grows louder with every exchange.

”This is becoming a battle of will!”

”Serrano’s skill is still there, but Aramaki is making him work for every inch of space!”

”And neither guy is willing to surrender the momentum!”

”We’re watching two completely different philosophies crash into each other right now!”

And when that round finally ends, Serrano lingers even longer than before. This time, his gaze shifts past Aramaki and settles on Ryoma.

The bitterness from that rookie tournament still burns inside him. Even now, after all these years, the memory refuses to fade.

Just you wait…

Once I’m done with him, I’ll come for you next.

He turns around, yet the bitterness still lingers in his expression.

That humiliation… I haven’t forgotten a second of it.

Meanwhile, across the ring, Aramaki walks back with one side of his face badly swollen and his right eye narrowing. Yet before reaching his corner, he glances toward Kaori at ringside, just as he has done throughout the last several rounds.

There is no grudge driving him tonight, no obsession with proving someone wrong. His goal is far simpler. He wants to leave this arena as a champion and become a man his wife and daughter can be proud of.

***

It isn’t as though there is nothing from the past lingering in Aramaki’s mind. As he settles onto the stool and Hiroshi starts dabbing at the blood beneath his nostrils, his thoughts drift back to a snowy New Year’s afternoon.

It had taken him years to gather the courage to finally brought Nanako to meet her grandparents. At the time, Aramaki genuinely believed things would change.

His purses were bigger. His family no longer struggled the way they once had. Kaori never had to worry about rent anymore. Nanako was growing up healthy and happy.

Aramaki thought that would be enough. But it wasn’t.

”So this is the man you chose?” Kaori’s father had said while sitting across from them in the warm living room, his eyes never leaving Aramaki. ”You threw away your future for someone who makes a living getting punched in the face.”

Aramaki still remembers how Kaori’s hand tightened around his beneath the table.

And her mother had been no kinder. ”And you call this stability? Building a family on money earned from people beating your husband half to death?”

In front of Kaori and Nanako, both parents stripped away every bit of dignity they could reach, treating Aramaki like a man unworthy of the family he had built.

”We didn’t raise our daughter so she could spend her life worrying whether her husband will come home conscious.”

”Every time he steps into a ring, he’s gambling with his body. And when that body finally gives out, then what?”

”What kind of future does that leave for your child?”

Aramaki had left that house carrying a shame heavier than any defeat he had suffered in the ring, knowing full well that their issue with him had never really been about boxing.

Kaori’s parents had never forgiven him for the mistake they made together back in school. The pregnancy, the scandal, and the disappointment brought upon both families had already defined him in their eyes long before he ever became a boxer.

For that reason, Aramaki no longer cares about earning his in-laws’ acceptance. What matters to him now is proving to the ones who stayed by his side, that their faith was not misplaced. He wants to become a man his wife can respect and his daughter can proudly call her father.