VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

For a single, glorious heartbeat, Yoyogi Gymnasium explodes. Thousands of local supporters spring to their feet, convinced Kenta has finally found the exchange capable of turning the fight around.

But then, Kenta’s legs buckle. His balance shudders. Della Cruz is shaken as well, but not as badly as Kenta who’s been enduring it for rounds.

Seeing Kenta beginning to fold, the champion raises his right hand and chops downward before the challenger can fall away on his own.

Kenta instinctively brings both gloves to cover his face, but…

BUMP!!

Despite the block, the impact still sends him hard onto the canvas.

”Moriyama is down!”

”The champion has finally put Kenta Moriyama on the canvas!”

The commentary booth erupts, but inside Yoyogi Gymnasium, most of the crowd falls eerily quiet, thousands of spectators remain frozen in their seats.

Disappointment gradually begins to replace the shock. More and more people find themselves questioning whether they had expected too much from Kenta.

At ringside, Franc Donovan, Jackson Rhodes, and his father, Logan Rhodes, all wear the same disappointed expression.

Donovan is the first to break the silence, turning to Jackson with a teasing smile. ”So I heard you actually tried to buy out his contract from old man Nakahara. And here I thought you’d found yourself a real gem.”

Jackson shrugs. ”I saw the potential. But what do you expect? That’s about as far as anyone can go staying in a small gym.”

***

Back in the ring, Kenta stays on one knee. He knows he can still get up, his legs are still there, and his head is clear enough.

If he wants to, he can stand and survive until the bell. But for what? He can’t see any path to victory anymore.

”It’s no use…”

Getting back up now would only prolong the inevitable. For that reason, Kenta quietly accepts that losing here may simply be the better choice.

But then, when the referee’s count reaches six, a sharp voice slices through the silence of Yoyogi Gymnasium.

”Kenta-niichan! Get up! It’s not over yet!”

Kenta blinks, recognizing Izumi’s voice amongst the low murmurs of people doubting him. In that instant, he realizes his mother is here. Maybe his father too, somewhere in the arena, watching him.

Without thinking any further, Kenta pushes himself off the canvas and raises both gloves.

”Oh, he gets up!”

”Now the question, can he still fight?”

The referee waves off the count at eight, steps in, and takes hold of Kenta’s gloves, looking directly into his eyes.

”Can you continue?”

Only then does the question finally occur to Kenta himself.

”...Why did I get back up?”

”Can I even win this?”

”Moriyama,” the referee asks once more. ”Are you okay to go?”

Kenta pushes the thoughts aside and gives a firm nod.

”Yes. I’m fine.”

The referee waves them back in.

”Box!”

Della Cruz leaves the neutral corner, but his steps carry a hint of heaviness. The previous dual exchange has clearly taken its toll. Not enough to slow him down, but enough to convince him that it’s time to bring this fight to an end.

Kenta, meanwhile, still finds no drive to fight back. The doubts remain, the despair still lingering inside him.

He simply shelters behind his turtle guard, absorbing the champion’s pressure before ending the barrage with a clinch.

I can’t stop here...

I might not win this.

But I can’t let him see this pathetic side of me.

His father’s face keeps appearing in his mind, along with the words that cut deeper than any punch.

”You lost one fight, and now you’re trying to run away from all of it.”

”So tell me... where did that courage disappear to?”

After the bitter defeat in Manila, after that argument with his father, Kenta had made himself a promise.

No matter what lay ahead, even if there was no path to victory...

I’m not going to run away from here.

Another heavy punch crashes into his guard before a short one slips through.

Dsh!

His head snaps to the side. Yet Kenta immediately wraps both arms around the champion, refusing to let go.

I’m still here.

I won’t run away.

The referee steps in, trying to separate them. But Kenta holds the champion so stubbornly.

”Hey, Kenta! Let him go!”

He slaps Kenta’s arms a few times, growing increasingly impatient. But it’s the bell that finally breaks the clinch.

Ding!

”Well... that’s not how anyone expected Round Eight to end.”

”No, but you’ve got to admire Moriyama’s grit. He simply refused to let go.”

”And sometimes, surviving one more round is a victory in itself.”

***

The moment Kenta sinks onto the stool, his breathing is still unsteady, each breath carrying a faint tremble from the punishment he has absorbed.

The corner team immediately springs into action. Sera presses the enswell against the swelling around Kenta’s brow and cheek, while Okabe places an ice bag against the back of his neck.

Beside them, Hiroshi works both hands into Kenta’s thighs, trying to loosen the muscles that have carried him through eight brutal rounds.

Only Nakahara stays in front of him, his voice firm and unwavering. ”Good job out there. Really good job. You did great forcing that exchange. I know you’re hurting. But he’s hurting too. And more importantly... he’s starting to get impatient.”

Kenta simply listens, trying to steady his breathing. He hears every word Nakahara says, yet his mind keeps drifting back to the same unsettling thought.

Maybe I’m just not good enough for this stage.

Back then against Liam Kuroda, it was the zone that carried him to victory. Then came Arman Sargsyan, a fight to finally test his own ability, only for it to end before either of them could even touch gloves.

After that came Manila. He stepped into the ring feeling completely unprepared, weighed down by inferiority. And once again, it was the zone that transformed everything, replacing doubt with overwhelming confidence.

Since then, he had convinced himself that he deserved that victory. He had truly believed he was the better fighter, that even a champion like Della Cruz was someone he could beat.

But now, it all feels like an illusion, as elusive as the very same haze he has spent the entire day trying to reach again.

”Next round,” Nakahara says, continuing as though he hasn’t noticed the turmoil inside Kenta, ”use your pendulum steps to blur the distance. I know Della Cruz won’t fall for it easily, but don’t give him an easy target. He’s trying to finish this fight now. Make him impatient. Your chance will come.”

For the first time, Kenta finally responds, giving a weak shake of his head. ”No... from the very beginning, I was never good enough for this stage. Without the zone, there’s no way I can win.”

He lowers his eyes. ”I’ve come this far on nothing but luck.”

The entire corner falls silent. Hiroshi stops rubbing Kenta’s shoulder. Even Okabe and Sera exchange a glance, unable to believe what they have just heard.

Nakahara is the first to break the silence. ”What the hell are you talking about? Don’t give me that lame excuse. We’ve come this far, and I know better than anyone that you can still fight. Don’t give up on me now, Kenta.”

His voice hardens. ”Have you already forgotten the pain of that night? I promised I’d bring this title fight back to you. Now you’ve got your rematch... and you’re telling me you want to surrender?”

Kenta looks at him for a long moment before quietly asking, ”Then tell me, old man... is there still anything I can do? I’ve tried everything, and yet...”

”Bullshit,” Nakahara cuts him off. ”You haven’t done anything yet. Round after round, you’ve stayed behind that tight guard, letting him drive you into the corner.”

He leans in until they’re almost face to face. ”I know what you’re capable of. I’m the one who trained you. Sera trained you. Ryoma trained you too. And if that kid heard what you just said, he’d be furious. He gave up part of his own training just to help you. We went through all of that to help you grow, to make you stronger so you wouldn’t have to rely so much on that damned zone, and...”

The old man suddenly stops, and his expression changes. ”...Now I get it. The damn zone.”

”Yeah,” Sera says quietly. ”That seems to be the problem. He’s become too fixated on the zone. He kept trying to force himself into it that he forgot everything he’s learned. The turtle guard made it obvious. He wanted the pressure to push him into that state. But it never happened... and all the damage he took ended up being for nothing.”

Nakahara’s jaw tightens. He grabs Kenta by the back of the neck and pulls him in until their foreheads press together.

”Now you listen to me, you ungrateful brat. Forget about that damned zone. Remember all the hours we drilled into you. Remember the frustration, the pain, and every extra hour you stayed behind after everyone else had gone home.”

His grip tightens. ”You’re better than this. You haven’t even used thirty percent of what we’ve taught you.”

Then he gives Kenta one final shove. ”So get back out there and fight properly this time. Stop hiding behind that turtle.”

The words strike Kenta harder than any punch he has taken tonight. As the realization slowly sinks in, he finally sees what Nakahara has been trying to tell him all along.

He hadn’t really fought this match. Instead of trusting everything he had learned, he had wasted round after round chasing the zone, waiting for something that never came.

And yet, he has still survived this long against the regional champion. That alone should tell him enough; he isn’t the same Kenta who stepped into Manila.

Kenta blinks, regret slowly washing over his face.

”Coach... I…”

But Nakahara simply straightens. ”Clear the corner.”

Even though there’s still time before the bell, everyone immediately steps away.

The old man looks down at Kenta one last time. ”Man up. I’ve babied you long enough. But you’re not a kid anymore.”