VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

February 14th, 2019.

While young women her age are busy preparing for Valentine’s Day dates, Aki Fujimori, only a few weeks away from turning twenty-three and still single, starts her morning preparing for something far more important: chasing story about other people’s live.

”Reika, can you come with me to Setagaya today?”

[Sorry, Aki. I don’t think I can.]

”I’m going to Ryoma’s place afterward, you know. You sure you don’t want to come?”

[No, maybe another time. I’m a bit busy right now.]

The call ends. Aki stares at her phone for a moment, her lips twisting into a small frown.

”That’s strange…”

She tilts her head before slipping the phone into her bag, followed by her notebook, recorder, and the other tools of her trade. Once everything is packed, she heads for the door.

”Mom, I’m leaving for work.”

She closes the door behind her and sets off on foot to chase the day’s story.

It takes her nearly fifteen minutes just to reach the nearest station, followed by another twenty minutes before she finally arrives in Setagaya.

By the time Aki reaches Olympus Boxing Gym, a crowd of journalists is already packed around the ring.

”Ah, man… I’m late.”

Aki tries to find a gap through the crowd, but the space around the ring is completely packed. Worse, she’s too short to see over most of the people in front of her.

”Oh, Aki. You’re here.” Sato’s voice comes from nearby.

”Good day, Sato-san. How’s the sparring?” Aki asks in a whisper, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the ring.

”Still the first round,” Sato replies. ”They’re still busy reading each other.”

Sato then gives his spot to Aki, letting her stand directly in front of him. At least with his height, he can still watch the sparring from the back.

Inside the ring, Nikolai Dragunov is already sparring with Akagi Shigeru, a 20 YO prospect and a switch-hitting technician currently ranked No. 3 by the JBC.

Dancing around the perimeter, Nikolai looks much like the rumors describe him: a bit of a weeb. The 22-year-old prodigy has dyed his hair white, cut in a style vaguely reminiscent of Kakashi’s hair, though shorter and less voluminous. A tattoo resembling a vertical slash runs over his left eye.

And yes, he is sparring without headgear, looking completely confident, a faint smile on his face and his half-lidded eyes calm and almost languid.

His white hair sways lightly with each elegant step of his footwork. His eyes never blink as his head cleanly slips a few sharp punches at close range, as though he can see every movement coming.

The local journalists watch in quiet amazement, their attention fixed on the young Bulgarian moving effortlessly around his sparring partner.

”Just like they said.”

”Yeah. This kid’s the real deal.”

”And that confidence…”

”They say he’s been boxing since he was five.”

When Nikolai begins to attack, his jab is so precise, viciously sharp, and frighteningly fast, snapping out like a whip with almost no warning.

Akagi remains disciplined, constantly moving his head, but Nikolai’s jab keeps finding him anyway, tracking every shift as though the movement itself means nothing. It darts through the smallest openings, touching the target before Akagi can fully escape the line.

Sometimes it crashes against the headgear, but more often it threads through the gaps and lands flush on Akagi’s face.

By the middle of the second minute, his right eye is already beginning to redden. And he’s starting to lose his own rhythm, becoming more occupied with reacting to and reading Nikolai’s attacks.

”You’re giving him too much respect, Akagi!” his coach calls. ”Get inside and make him work!”

Akagi hears him, but the moment he tries to fire back, Nikolai blends his feints with smooth pendulum footwork, leaving Akagi visibly confused about when and where to commit.

The moment Akagi ignores the feint and steps in behind his jab, Nikolai slips inside by leaning to his left before firing a lead uppercut.

DHUACK!

The punch catches Akagi clean on the chin, snapping his head slightly upward.

He manages to reset, bringing his guard back up as he steps away. But then Nikolai demonstrates something that catches everyone in the room by surprise.

He makes a quick, sharp ghost step and fires a phantom jab.

DSH!

He resets, then sells another jab toward Akagi’s raised guard, only to catch the side of Akagi’s head with a two-beat flicker.

Dug. DSH!

A murmur of surprise passes through the local journalists. The sequence feels strangely familiar to them, especially the ghost step and the deceptive jab rhythm.

”Wait… wasn’t that Ryoma’s?”

”The fast step-in?”

”And that two-beat flicker too.”

As if deliberately showing them off, Nikolai begins controlling the pace of the sparring, creating openings to bring out more of his tricks.

When Akagi switches into his switch-hitting style in the second round, Nikolai starts mirroring his movements, almost like Kakashi fighting Zabuza Momochi.

Akagi feints, and Nikolai immediately mirrors the same feint.

Akagi pulls his head back in reaction, and Nikolai does exactly the same.

When Akagi finally steps back with an irritated look, Nikolai steps back too, copying even the offended expression on his face.

He tilts his head the same way, raises his brows the same amount, then gives Akagi a faint, almost innocent smile, as if he is deliberately making a joke out of every single thing the man does.

By now, the journalists are certain of what Nikolai is doing. The deliberate timing, the exaggerated mimicry, and the sequence of movements make it impossible to dismiss as coincidence.

Even Aki’s face turns sour as she watches it unfolds. Somehow, she is genuinely offended on Ryoma’s behalf, as if Nikolai has just committed the personal insult of stealing her favorite fighter’s signature moves.

”He’s clearly sending a message,” Sato says with a faintly amused hum. ”Like he’s saying, whatever Ryoma can do, I can do it too.”

”There’s no doubt about it,” Aki says.

Akagi is well aware of it by now. He watched Ryoma’s fight against Cabello himself, and he knows exactly what kind of risk comes with forcing an aggressive approach against this style.

If Nikolai keeps mirroring him, too many exchanges are bound to happen. And Akagi can already feel the hesitation creeping in.

What if Nikolai suddenly breaks the pattern? What if one of those familiar movements is only a setup? He isn’t sure he can react quickly enough when that moment comes.

Nikolai pulls his head back just enough to let the cross stop inches from his face. His eyes stay fixed on the glove for a split second before he surges forward and tears into Akagi with a vicious low-high combination: two hooks to the body, followed by two hooks to the head.

BUGH! BUGH! DSH! DSH!

Every punch lands clean, the impact snapping Akagi’s body and head in succession.

At least the headgear helps Akagi absorb the damage, and he immediately fires a right hook upstairs.

Nikolai ducks underneath it, rolls hard to his left, and comes back with three savage hooks buried into the ribs.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Akagi’s body folds under the third shot. His legs buckle, and he drops heavily to one knee, one arm wrapping around his left side as his face twists in pain.

Aki’s expression slowly changes as he watches Nikolai’s amused grin. If this was Nikolai’s way of sending a message to Ryoma, then the message is already clear.

He isn’t coming to Japan just to challenge the champion. He’s ready to steal everything from him.