VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

The news reaches Nakahara and the others in Nagano almost immediately. Within hours, the training camp is suspended, and everyone boards the Shinkansen back to Tokyo.

The atmosphere inside the train is unusually heavy. No one speaks much, each person trapped in their own thoughts as the same unanswered question keeps returning.

”I still can’t believe he went that far...” Okabe mutters.

”Hey,” Aramaki cuts in, giving him a warning look. ”Don’t jump to conclusions. We don’t know what actually happened yet.”

”There’s no way Ryoma would do something like that,” Kenta says. ”Sure, he can look like a psychopath sometimes, but stabbing Ryohei with a knife...?”

The sentence trails off. And the uncertainty only makes the situation worse.

Without knowing the truth, their minds fill in the gaps themselves, and the possibility that Ryoma had finally crossed a line continues haunting them throughout the journey back to Tokyo.

By the time they arrive at Keio University Hospital, the tension has only grown heavier. In the waiting area outside the operating room, Kurogane and Nobusawa immediately rise from their seats when they see them approaching.

”Everyone’s here?” Kurogane asks, looking at each of them one by one.

”Couldn’t help it but end the training,” Nakahara replies.

”There’s no way anyone can train when things are already like this,” Hiroshi adds quietly.

A beat later, Nakahara’s attention shifts toward the other side of the waiting area. Ryohei’s parents are sitting together. His mother is crying quietly against his father’s chest while he holds her tightly, staring blankly toward the operating room doors.

Nakahara’s expression softens as he walks toward them. ”Yamada-san. How is Ryohei’s situation? What did the doctors say?”

Ryohei’s father looks up. His face is exhausted, but he forces himself to answer. ”The operation is still ongoing. They said the chances of serious internal damage are low because... it was only a pocket knife.”

He pauses briefly before adding, ”But there is still a risk. The knife was dirty. They are worried about infection.”

Meanwhile, Okabe’s attention moves elsewhere. In the far corner of the hallway, away from the brighter lights of the waiting area, Ryoma sits alone.

Okabe’s chest fills with anger as he sees him. Without realizing it, his hands tighten into fists as he walks closer.

Ryoma sits with his head lowered, both hands clasped together between his knees. His clothes and hands still carry traces of blood. The sight only strengthens the suspicion that has been growing inside Okabe since hearing the news.

But as he gets closer, he notices something else. Ryoma is not angry. He doesn’t look defensive. He is simply staring at the floor with a blank expression, his face pale and drained of color.

The fear in his eyes is something Okabe has never seen from him before. It makes Okabe hesitate, and before he can say anything, Sera steps forward first.

”Ryoma. What happened?” Sera asks.

Ryoma slowly looks up, turning toward Sera as though he has only just realized there are people around him. His eyes remain unfocused, his expression still lost somewhere between shock and disbelief.

And the question itself only pulls him back into the same thought that has been repeating inside his head, because even now, he still finds it hard to understand what happened.

Someone tried to hurt him, and Ryoma understands why. He understands the anger, the obsession, and the twisted sense of betrayal that drove that man to attack.

Then Ryohei stepped in front of him. After everything between them, after all the arguments and accusations, Ryohei still chose to protect him, making Ryoma confused even more.

And the part Ryoma cannot accept is that Ryohei actually got hurt because of it. He knows Ryohei is not some ordinary person. He is one of Ronin’s fighters, the Japanese champion.

If Ryohei truly saw someone trying to attack him and decided to intervene, then Ryohei should have been able to stop it without putting himself in danger.

That’s when Ryoma remembers the moment his own hand closed around Ryohei’s throat, and that realization crushes him.

”I...” he mutters, his voice barely audible. ”I made Ryohei get stabbed.”

His breathing becomes uneven. ”This is my fault. If I hadn’t…”

Before he can finish the words, Okabe suddenly grabs the front of Ryoma’s shirt and slams him against the wall.

”If you hadn’t what, you asshole?!”

”Okabe!” Sera immediately steps forward. ”Calm down! We’re in a hospital!”

Okabe does not let go. His voice lowers, but the anger behind it remains sharp. ”Have you lost your mind? Just because of something so stupid, you hurt your own teammate?”

He stares directly into Ryoma’s eyes. ”I always trusted you, Ryoma. But you disappointed me.”

At that moment, a man’s voice cuts through the tension.

”Excuse me, but could you finish that somewhere else?”

The three of them turn and sees Detective Tachibana a short distance away with his usual unreadable expression, while Superintendent Shibata follows several steps behind him.

”Hey, hey... what exactly is going on here?” Shibata asks, glancing between them.

Ryoma reaches up and tries to remove Okabe’s hand from his shirt. There is no strength behind the movement, nothing that suggests he is trying to fight back. Okabe notices it immediately, and after a moment of hesitation, he finally lets go.

”Shibata-san. Tachibana-san,” Ryoma says quietly. ”Have you found anything?”

”We examined the fingerprints on the knife,” Tachibana replies, pulling out a document. ”Hayashida Muneyaki. A delivery worker. He has a criminal record for assault and causing disturbances at illegal gambling establishments.”

Shibata steps forward, continuing the explanation. ”We also contacted Kenji Matsuda, just as you suggested. He confirmed that Hayashida was recently registered as a member of the Cruel King Army.”

He pauses briefly before continuing. ”And just like you said, this appears to be nothing more than a disgruntled fan who couldn’t get a ticket.”

The brief exchange leaves Okabe and several others nearby slightly confused. At the very least, the assumption that Ryoma had been responsible for what happened begins to fade from their minds.

Okabe looks back toward Ryoma, but before he can say anything, the operating room door opens. The doctor steps out of the operating room, pulling down his surgical mask before scanning the waiting area.

”Family of Ryohei Yamada?”

Ryohei’s father raises to his feet. ”I-I’m his father. Doctor... how is my son?”

The doctor nods and walks toward him. ”Please, have a seat first.”

Okabe, Ryoma, and everyone else nearby instinctively move closer, waiting to hear the news.

The doctor, meanwhile, waits until Ryohei’s parents sit down again before speaking in a calm, measured voice.

”The operation was successful. The good news is that the blade did not damage any major organs. The angle of the stab narrowly missed his liver, kidney, and spleen. There is no life-threatening internal bleeding.”

A wave of relief spreads through the corridor. Ryohei’s mother immediately breaks into tears, burying her face against her husband’s shoulder while he repeatedly murmurs quiet words of gratitude.

The doctor, however, does not leave. His eyes shift toward Nakahara. And Nakahara immediately understands this is now about Ryohei’s situation as a boxer.

”You’re his coach?”

Nakahara nods. ”Yes.”

”The blade entered from the right side and cut deeply through the external and internal oblique muscles,” the doctor explains. ”It also damaged part of the lower intercostal muscle between the ribs. We repaired everything we could, but muscle tissue doesn’t recover the same way skin does.”

”The wound itself is treatable. My greater concern at the moment is contamination. The knife wasn’t sterile, so despite thoroughly cleaning the wound during surgery, we will have to monitor him closely over the next several days for signs of infection.”

”Doctor... he’s scheduled to defend his Japanese title at the Tokyo Dome in mid-September,” Nakahara says.

”Two months...” the doctor murmurs before slowly shaking his head. ”I’m afraid he won’t be able to do it. The first three months will require complete rest. After that, he will need extensive rehabilitation before those muscles can safely handle rotational force again.”

”How long?” Nakahara asks, his voice almost hollow.

”In my professional opinion...” the doctor answers, ”he will not be fit for competitive boxing for approximately twelve to fourteen months.”

The doctor looks around the corridor before adding one final remark. ”He’ll be transferred to recovery shortly. The anesthesia will keep him asleep until tomorrow morning, so it will likely be then before he’s fully awake.”

With a polite bow, he quietly returns through the operating room doors.

Nakahara slowly lowers his head, unable to hide the disappointment on his face. Nearby, Sera and Hiroshi exchange a brief glance, neither needing to say aloud what twelve to fourteen months away from the ring truly means for a champion in his prime.

Even Ryohei’s parents look devastated. His mother breaks down once more, and his father silently pulls her into his arms. They are grateful their son survived, but the thought of how deeply this news will break Ryohei’s heart when he wakes is painful enough to bring fresh tears to their eyes.

Ryoma remains frozen where he stands. Watching Ryohei’s mother break down in tears hurts more than he can bear. The guilt pressing against his chest grows heavier with every passing second, and no matter how many times he replays the scene in his head, he always reaches the same conclusion.

If he hadn’t mistaken Ryohei’s intention and grabbed him by the throat, none of this would have happened.