VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Not long after the final bell, the Ronin team gathers for the post-fight press conference, with Aramaki naturally taking center stage.

This is Aramaki’s first time being placed at the center of a Ronin event, and all the attention makes him visibly uncomfortable.

After answering what must already be the tenth question he has lost count of, he sits stiffly beneath the press lights, shoulders slightly hunched.

”Ah… I don’t really know what to say. I’m just glad I could do my job tonight. Everyone else fought well too, so… I don’t think I deserve all this attention.”

Fortunately for Aramaki, one of the reporters turns to Ryoma with a question, and the weight of the attention suddenly shifts away from him.

”Ryoma-san, this is Ronin’s first event at Korakuen Hall, isn’t it? Is there any particular reason your management has seemingly avoided this venue until now?”

Ryoma answers casually. ”It’s not that we’ve been avoiding it. We were a small management company back then, so we focused more on venues that could accommodate large crowds with cheaper tickets rather than smaller but reputable venues like Korakuen Hall, where we’d have to charge more.”

The reporter gives him a teasing smile. ”So Ronin is finally big enough for a reputable venue like this, huh? Though the story going around lately is that Ronin’s ticket prices are actually rather low.”

Questions like this are exactly the kind that tempt Ryoma into dropping another small hint about the pandemic he has been anticipating, a subject that has never been entirely absent from his public remarks.

”You see, it’s winter right now, isn’t it?” Ryoma begins, putting on a convincing face. It feels a little cruel to tempt tens of thousands of people out of their homes at night just to watch a boxing match. Ah, that’s also one of the reasons we decided to work with NovaLink. Ronin’s fights will be featured prominently in their boxing programming. So, to everyone in Japan, I’d recommend subscribing to NovaLink. You can enjoy the fights with your family at home without having to go out.”

He pauses, then adds with the same earnest expression. ”Ah, one more thing. Take care of your health. Don’t catch a cold. And please, always wear a mask when you’re going somewhere crowded.”

A quiet awkwardness spreads through the Ronin camp. Several of them glance uneasily toward Ryoma, while even Hayakawa, his personal bodyguard standing below the stage, lets out a tired sigh at the familiar closing.

There is nothing wrong or strange about the message itself. The problem is that this has happened dozens of times since Ryoma returned from London; the same warning, the same choice of words, even the same earnest expression and intonation every single time.

Even the journalists, usually eager to chase anything remotely sensational, seem reluctant to ask a follow-up question.

Aki, seated among them, notices the reaction. To keep Ryoma’s image intact, she quickly raises another question, hoping to steer the atmosphere in a different direction.

”Ryoma, what can fans expect from Ronin’s schedule this year?”

Ryoma’s answer sounds perfectly normal. ”We’ll try to remain active, but we’ll be more selective about our venues and the number of spectators.”

But once again, he steers the answer toward the same issue. ”People don’t need to come out every time. They can watch from home. So there’s no need to leave the house, and no need to take the risk of being in crowded places.”

As if connecting it to Ryoma’s previous remarks in London, another journalist asks, ”What risk are you referring to?”

Ryoma falls silent for a moment, glancing around the room. But before he can make another ridiculous statement, Kurogane gives him a discreet pinch in the ribs.

”Ah, about that…” Ryoma says. ”Well, you know, crowds always carry some risk. And home is still the safer place. Yeah. That’s all. Just… just stay safe.”

The journalists suddenly pretend to be busy writing, though none of their pens seem to move.

The moderator looks around the room. ”Any other questions? Or shall we wrap things up here?”

No one raises a hand, and with that, the session comes to an end.

The entire Ronin group gathers for photographs, everyone squeezing tightly together to fit into a single frame.

Only Hayakawa remains apart from them, his eyes constantly scanning the room, making sure no potential threat comes anywhere near Ryoma.

Then a familiar voice comes from beside him, stealing his attention.

”Another story about colds, masks, and the risk of being in a crowd, huh?”

Hayakawa turns and finds Detective Tachibana walking toward him, his attention never leaving Ryoma.

”Don’t tell me this kid is actually starting to believe the ridiculous story he’s been building himself.”

”What ridiculous story are you talking about?” Hayakawa asks.

Only then does Tachibana turn toward him. ”Come on. Everyone’s heard that absurd statement he made in London.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle before turning his attention back toward Ryoma.

”Pharmaceutical companies conspiring behind the scenes. Some story about an engineered flu virus designed to create a market for vaccines. He managed to become the center of global attention with that joke. But now I’m starting to question whether he’s actually sane.”

A few seconds later, Ryoma notices Tachibana’s presence. His face immediately brightens, and he leaves the stage to approach him.

”Detective-san. I didn’t expect to see you here. If I’d known you were coming to watch our fights, I would’ve arranged a VIP seat for you.”

”Ah, no, no,” Tachibana cuts in flatly. ”I just got here. I happened to be passing nearby and thought I’d stop by to say hello to my old friend.”

He finishes with a light pat on Hayakawa’s back. Ryoma glances at his personal bodyguard, then turns back to Tachibana, his expression growing even brighter.

”Then why don’t you join us? We’re having an after-fight party later. Hayakawa-san will be with me anyway, and you can come along and continue catching up with your old friend.”

Tachibana glances briefly at Hayakawa, then smiles and gives Ryoma a small bow.

”It would be my pleasure.”

***

The after-fight party takes place at the Tokyo Dome Hotel, only a short distance from Korakuen Hall. Inside the reception room, the Ronin group fills the space with conversation, drinks, and scattered laughter as they celebrate the night’s results.

As usual, Sato and Tanaka are there, along with Aki and Reika. For the past few weeks, Reika has seemed noticeably more relaxed around Ryoma, freely laughing beside him in a way she never used to.

Ryoma is much the same. He looks almost naive and completely unguarded, as though the boyish side of him that had disappeared over the past two years has finally returned.

He laughs more freely, teases the others, and seems far removed from the guarded, calculating man people have grown accustomed to seeing.

”Come on, people! Is this a celebration or a funeral? We won tonight! Someone turn the music up!”

Near the entrance, however, Hayakawa and Tachibana sit slightly apart from the others.

Tachibana himself barely touches his drink, his eyes never leaving Ryoma across the room, following his every movement with the quiet concentration of a detective watching a suspect.

Hayakawa, on the other hand, has been watching Tachibana behave like this since they first sat down, until eventually he decides to call him on it.

”What’s with you? Did my boss commit a crime or something?”

Tachibana doesn’t take his eyes off Ryoma. ”Why would you ask that?”

”I just want to understand why you’re watching him like that.”

”Like what?” Tachibana replies.

Hayakawa lets out a long sigh. ”Come on. I’ve known you long enough. And I know what you’re like when your instincts kick in over a challenging case.”

”A challenging case?” Tachibana finally turns toward him, a cold smile forming on his face. ”Ah, yes. This Chameleon, the Cruel King… I’ve never had a case that refused to make sense quite like him.”

”Are you still suspicious of him over Hayashida Muneyaki’s death?” Hayakawa asks.

Tachibana’s brows lift, but he doesn’t answer immediately. He glances toward Ryoma, then briefly toward Reika, before letting out a slow breath.

”Actually, he’s not the only suspect anymore.”

Tachibana picks up his glass and takes a sip, letting the sake linger for a moment before setting it back down.

”New lead?” Hayakawa asks.

Tachibana nods. ”A statement from Hayashida’s girlfriend. The day before he died, he received a phone call. Hayashida was in the bathroom, so she answered it for him. The person on the other end was speaking English, with a very strong accent.”

”A strong accent?”

”I gave her several references, and she was fairly certain it sounded French. The problem is what happened after she told Hayashida about the call. He suddenly became agitated. Snapped at her. Started acting like he was hiding something. She kept asking what was going on, and they got into an argument. Eventually, Hayashida slapped her and walked out.”

”It could’ve been the person who hired Hayashida to kill Ryoma. Hayashida failed, and that person killed him,” Hayakawa says.

”Could be,” Tachibana replies. ”That’s why, we’re still trying to locate Hayashida’s phone. Then, one day, I went back to that girl’s apartment…”

Tachibana pauses, his eyes settling on Ryoma again. ”…a familiar black Lexus drew my attention back to our Cruel King.”

He then gestures toward the glass window. Outside, beneath the hotel lights, Reika’s familiar black Lexus sits along the curb.

Hayakawa’s gaze sharpens as he studies the sports car. When he turns back to Tachibana, the detective merely shrugs before shifting his attention back to Ryoma and Reika.