VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

The snowball surrounding Ryoma only keeps growing. Just when the boxing world believes the frenzy has finally reached its peak, another incident sends it crashing into an even bigger headline.

Right after Ramirez’s highly publicized sentencing and apology, the spotlight once again swings toward the same young boxer, this time after a knife attack outside Nakahara’s Gym left Japanese champion Ryohei Yamada hospitalized.

Witnesses at the scene consistently told investigators that the attacker was charging straight at Ryoma before Ryohei stepped into his path and took the stab wound instead.

That single detail is enough to breathe new life into the conspiracy theories that have refused to die for nearly two years.

JAPANESE CHAMPION STABBED WHILE PROTECTING RYOMA TAKEDA

ANOTHER ATTACK ON RYOMA—COINCIDENCE OR SOMETHING MORE?

RAMIREZ JAILED, BUT QUESTIONS OVER RYOMA’S SAFETY REMAIN

TOKYO DOME MEGA FIGHT OVERSHADOWED BY NEW VIOLENT INCIDENT

The incident quickly divides public opinion. While investigators continue piecing together the facts, social media has already reached its own conclusions.

@FightSensei: Ryoma can’t even walk out of his own gym without someone trying to stab him. This is getting insane.

@TokyoDome55K: People seriously think this is connected to Ramirez? The guy literally got arrested yesterday.

@BoxingTruthJP: Funny how every time Ryoma gets close to the biggest fight of his career, something happens.

And of course, with Ryohei hospitalized and his condition still unclear, uncertainty begins surrounding one of the Tokyo Dome undercard’s most anticipated matchups.

@OsakaWarrior: I don’t care about all this Ryoma drama. I already bought my ticket because I want to watch Umemoto humiliate that coward from Tokyo.

@OsakaKnockout: Convenient timing, isn’t it? Ryohei gets stabbed right before facing Umemoto. Feels like someone just found the perfect excuse to duck the fight.

@EastBlockBoxing: Right, because getting stabbed is obviously the smartest way to avoid a boxing match. Some of you really need professional help.

The growing uncertainty quickly reaches Ronin Fight Management. Regardless of the circumstances, Ryohei’s scheduled title defense against Umemoto has become far too significant to ignore, forcing the promotion to seek an immediate solution before the speculation grows any further.

Kurogane buries both hands in his hair, rubbing his scalp in frustration. ”If we don’t get ahead of this, we’re going to have angry fans demanding refunds. The longer we stay silent, the worse this gets.”

”We still have a way to save the event,” Sera replies, remaining surprisingly composed. ”Let’s go to the JBC, submit Ryohei’s medical report, and request that he be temporarily relieved of his championship status. If they approve an interim title, we can find a replacement opponent for Umemoto instead.”

Nakahara gives a firm nod. ”Then we move now. Kurogane, head to the JBC immediately. I’ll visit Narisawa Gym myself and see whether Hamakawa is willing to step in against Umemoto. We don’t have time to wait.”

***

The incident leaves Ronin’s entire training camp in disarray. The camp is called off altogether, with preparations for the biggest event in the promotion’s history resuming at Nakahara’s Gym.

Ryoma, however, never returns with them. Since bringing Ryohei to Keio University Hospital the previous afternoon, he hasn’t left the building even once.

Still wearing the same bloodstained clothes from the attack, he eventually succumbs to exhaustion, falling asleep in a chair beside Ryohei’s hospital bed.

Until then, a gentle tap on his shoulder slowly pulls Ryoma out of his sleep. Once wakes up, he finds Ryohei still lying there with his eyes closed.

”What time is it?” Ryoma asks hoarsely, instinctively looking toward the wall clock.

”A little after nine,” Ryohei’s mother replies. ”Go wash your face first. I’ll step out and buy some bento.”

Ryoma gives a tired nod before slowly pushing himself to his feet. His body feels unusually heavy as he shuffles toward the door.

Almost at the same time, Ryohei’s eyelids slowly flutter open. This isn’t the first time he has regained consciousness since the surgery. Earlier that morning, he had already awakened briefly, only to find Ryoma asleep beside his bed before drifting off again.

Now watching Ryoma’s back disappear through the doorway, Ryohei lets out a quiet disinterested breath.

”So... he finally went home?”

His mother gently shakes her head. ”No. I tried convincing him to go home, but he insisted on waiting until you woke up. And you... you’ve been sleeping comfortably in that nice, soft bed the whole time.”

”Oh, come on, Mom.” A faint grin appears on Ryohei’s face. ”Your son almost died yesterday.”

She exhales softly before looking toward the hallway. ”Talk some sense into him. Tell him to go home, get some rest, and focus on his training. He has the biggest fight of his career waiting for him.”

She picks up her handbag and walks toward the door. ”I’ll be back after I buy some bento.”

A few minutes later, Ryoma quietly returns to the room. The moment he steps inside, he finds Ryohei already awake, lying motionless with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Ryohei clearly hears the door open, recognizes the footsteps drawing closer, and even notices the chair being pulled beside his bed. Yet his gaze never leaves the white ceiling above him.

An uneasy silence settles over the room. After everything they have said to each other in recent weeks, neither of them seems willing to speak first.

The bitterness, the resentment, and the awkwardness linger stubbornly between them, making the quiet feel heavier than either man knows how to break.

”Oh…” Ryohei mutters at last. ”Looks like I’m still alive.”

”It was only a little pocket knife,” Ryoma says flatly. ”You’re the one who panicked for no reason.”

A faint scoff escapes Ryohei. ”Yeah... and now I have to live with the embarrassment of showing the most pathetic side of myself to the person I hate the most.”

”You really hate me that much, huh?” Ryoma says quietly. ”Is it because of that sparring session? Or because I kept pushing you to fight Umemoto?”

Ryohei doesn’t answer right away. His jaw tightens slightly, the resentment still obvious whenever the subject comes up.

Then his expression gradually softens. After letting out a long breath, he finally finds the courage to admit what he has been refusing to say all this time.

”You were right,” he says. ”I was scared. Not just because I didn’t think I could beat Umemoto. I was terrified of what he’d do to me. I kept picturing him beating me senseless, round after round. Picturing myself trapped in that ring with a beast like him.”

”Come on,” Ryoma replies. ”You already beat him once. No matter what everyone else says, we both know that wasn’t some lucky punch.”

”And you really think I can do it again?”

Ryohei finally turns his head toward him. The hesitation in his eyes is unmistakable, revealing a level of doubt he has never allowed anyone else to see.

”I watched his rematch against Hamakawa,” he continues. ”He’s not the same Umemoto I beat back then. And don’t forget, the biggest reason I landed that counter was because he underestimated me. But that won’t happen again. He’ll step into the ring as a much stronger Umemoto... while I’ll still be the same old Ryohei. Pathetic. Coward. Always looking for excuse, and a comfort way to avoid danger.”

Ryoma says nothing. Hearing Ryohei finally admit the truth does nothing to ease the weight pressing against his chest. If anything, the guilt only feels heavier.

A moment later, Ryohei turns his eyes back toward the ceiling and lets out a quiet chuckle, only for it to stop almost immediately as pain shoots through his side.

”Well,” he mutters, ”at least I have a legitimate excuse to avoid him now.”

But then, Ryoma lowers his head, so deeply that his face disappears from view.

”I’m sorry,” he says.

Ryohei immediately turns toward him, blinking in complete disbelief. Never once has he imagined Ryoma humbling himself like this.

”H-Hey... what the hell are you doing? Knock it off. You’re freaking me out.”

Ryoma doesn’t raise his head. Ryohei can’t see his face, but he can hear the uneven breaths escaping from his chest, each one sounding more fragile than the last.

”You put yourself in danger to save me,” Ryoma continues. ”But because I hated you so much, I thought you were trying to attack me from behind. I panicked and grabbed your throat. If I hadn’t done that... that man would’ve never had the chance to hurt you.”

Confusion slowly spreads across Ryohei’s face, because that isn’t how he remembers it happening. He clearly remembers the knife already hit him before Ryoma’s hand ever closed around his throat.

Even now, the memory still irritates him. He is even more frustrated with himself for charging in so recklessly that a Japanese champion ends up getting stabbed by nothing more than a street thug.

”Hey, Ryoma…” he begins.

He wants to correct the misunderstanding, but Ryoma keeps talking before he can get another word in.

”Now you’re not just going to miss the Tokyo Dome event. You won’t be able to fight again for a very long time.”

He pauses for a moment before forcing out the rest.

”That’s all because of me.”

Ryohei’s expression gradually turns blank and cold. Yet beneath that cold expression, he knows this isn’t Ryoma’s fault alone.

He is equally to blame for charging in without thinking, allowing panic to overrule the instincts that should have come naturally to a champion like him.

And despite all that, Ryohei understands Ryoma well enough to know one thing. Even if he forgives him now, Ryoma will never forgive himself.

So instead of offering forgiveness or correcting the misunderstanding, Ryohei chooses something else.

”Your apology doesn’t do a damn thing for me.”

Ryoma slowly raises his head. The moment their eyes meet, he finds nothing but hostility staring back at him.

”If you really feel guilty,” Ryohei continues, ”then carry that guilt with you. You love running your mouth about carrying everyone’s future on your shoulders, don’t you? So what the hell are you doing here?”

His voice grows firmer with every word. ”Go home. Get back to training. Because I don’t want to see you lose and then use me as your excuse. Don’t forget. My career depends on you now. So does everyone else’s at Ronin.”

His stare never wavers. ”Now leave. Never show your face to me until you rip that belt away from Cabello. You hear me?”