VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

The concern in her eyes grows as she begins to wonder whether Ryoma’s condition may be more serious than she initially thought.

Across their sessions, she has already noticed signs that could point toward dissociative identity disorder, along with an unusually adaptive intelligence that allows him to adjust to almost any situation but can also lead to a chaotic fragmentation of his personality when he loses control of it.

Now, with his unwavering belief in the Vision Grid System and the voices he hears, another possibility begins to enter her mind, one that she finds considerably more troubling: schizophrenia.

And beneath all of it, she suspects there may be a trauma-related coping mechanism at work, rooted in the way Ryoma’s mind learned to respond to an overwhelming situation somewhere in his past.

The problem is that, despite everything he has shared with her so far, Ryoma has never told her a single story that sounds severe enough to explain how deeply his mind may have been affected.

For now, Miyahara knows she needs more time to understand what is happening. She needs more observation, and certainly more sessions like this one before she can make any meaningful conclusions. Six sessions are simply not enough to untangle something this complicated.

She looks at Ryoma again, then gives him a small, almost apologetic smile. ”To answer your question, Ryoma-kun... Unfortunately, I don’t have a definitive answer yet. I need to understand more about what you’re experiencing before I can tell you what it means.”

Her eyes drift toward the clock. ”And unfortunately, I think we’ve already gone well beyond the time we were supposed to spend on this session.”

She closes her notebook and gives him a faintly amused look. ”We’ll have to continue next time. That is, of course, assuming you don’t mind paying me for all these extra sessions.”

Ryoma accepts the answer without protest. If anything, Miyahara’s refusal to pretend she has all the answers makes him trust her more.

She is nothing like the kind of psychiatrist he has always imagined: someone who jumps to conclusions, casually justifies her own assumptions, and speaks as though she understands every hidden corner of another person’s mind. Miyahara does none of that.

She listens, considers what he tells her, admits when she does not have an answer, and never tries to force her interpretation onto him as though it were the absolute truth. For someone as guarded as Ryoma, that alone makes it easier to open up.

When Ryoma steps outside, Hayakawa is already waiting by the car, holding the door open for him with a mildly amused expression.

”So, did she deliver the worst sentence yet?”

Ryoma pauses. ”Sentence?”

”That you’re crazy.”

Ryoma simply shakes his head and gets into the car. ”She said I only have over-anxiety. That’s a pretty good reason I’ve kept you employed this long.”

”Thank you for your confidence in my services,” Hayakawa says dryly as he closes the door.

***

When Ryoma arrives at the Ronin office building, a crowd of reporters is already gathered around the entrance, shouting toward the building and demanding a chance to interview him.

But the moment their attention shifts toward the approaching car and they realize who is inside, the entire group surges after it, following the vehicle until Hayakawa finally pulls over at the curb.

”There, your beloved hungry vultures,” Hayakawa says flatly. ”So, what now? Do you want me to scare them off by firing a shot into the air, or should we just leave?”

Ryoma takes a deep breath, then gives a single nod. ”They just need a story. Let me give them one.”

He opens the car door without waiting for Hayakawa to get out and secure the situation. Almost immediately, recorders are thrust toward him before he has even managed to fully step out of the car.

”Ryoma! Did you hear Umemoto’s challenge?”

”Umemoto called you a coward. What’s your response?”

”Is it true that you’re avoiding him because you’re afraid of losing the belt?”

”Umemoto says your controversies are nothing more than a distraction because you don’t want to face him. Do you deny that?”

”Do you still believe you deserve to be called the champion after everything that’s happened?”

”Are you going to respond to the accusations that you’ve been hiding behind your public image?”

”Do you have anything to say to the man who just stopped the WBO number-one contender?”

”Are you willing to defend your title against Umemoto?”

Ryoma remains calm amid the barrage of questions, his expression composed without the slightest attempt to soften it with a smile. He does not step back or try to escape the pressure, simply standing there and letting the reporters crowd around him until he finally raises one hand.

”Hey, hey... I hear you all. If you really want me to answer that, then be quiet for once and let me speak.”

The reporters fall silent almost immediately, suddenly attentive. After months of Ryoma avoiding them, this is a rare chance to finally hear him speak.

”First, regarding his challenge, we received it a long time ago,” Ryoma says.

”Then why have you been ignoring it?” one reporter asks.

”Because as the world champion, I don’t have the freedom to choose my opponents that casually. Especially not a fighter like Umemoto, who had only just given up his domestic title and had never even fought at world level. I already told him: climb the ladder first.”

”And now Umemoto has beaten Liam O’Connell, the WBO’s number-one contender. Are you still going to avoid him?”

Ryoma’s expression remains unchanged. ”Listen. As the champion, I have an obligation to make one mandatory defense every year. That means I don’t have unlimited freedom to choose who I fight. If the WBO designates Umemoto as the mandatory challenger, then automatically, he becomes my opponent.”

He looks across the reporters gathered around him. ”So the narrative he’s been building all this time is just the talk of someone desperate for attention. You journalists should understand how this works. Don’t make yourselves look foolish by getting baited into his cheap provocations.”

One of the reporters refuses to let the subject go. ”But isn’t that just another excuse, Ryoma? You’re saying you’ll fight him if the WBO orders it, but you could still accept the fight yourself. Why hide behind the rules when you have a chance to prove Umemoto wrong right now?”

Ryoma looks at him, something in his expression changes. It is barely more than a tightening around his eyes, but he feels the familiar pressure rising inside him.

The urge to lash out comes faster than he expects, sharp and instinctive, pushing against the restraint he has been trying to maintain.

And the reporter still continues before he can answer. ”Maybe Umemoto is right. Maybe you’re using the mandatory defense rules because you don’t want to take a risk against someone who just proved he can beat the WBO’s number-one contender. If you’re really confident, why not fight him voluntarily?”

”Fine!” Ryoma suddenly snaps.

The sudden shout makes several reporters flinch, while others instinctively pull their microphones back as the atmosphere around Ryoma changes.

”Tell your damn Umemoto to prepare the place himself,” he continues. ”Pick the date. Tomorrow, next week, I don’t care. I’ll come to Osaka and shut his mouth, and the mouths of every damn supporter cheering for him.”

The reporters stare at him for a moment before suddenly scattering, already rushing to file their stories.

”This is big news.”

”He’s finally lost it.”

”Well, after a statement like that, he can’t exactly take it back, can he?”

Ryoma watches them leave, his breathing still uneven from the anger that has yet to fully subside. Once he finally manages to calm himself, the implications of what he has just said begin to sink in. There is no taking it back now.

When he turns toward the entrance of the Ronin office, several of his friends are already there. Nakahara and Kurogane walk toward him, their faces betraying a mixture of concern and disbelief.

”What the hell are you doing?” Nakahara scolds him.

”You can’t just make a statement like that, Ryoma,” Kurogane says. ”If Umemoto moves up to number one next month, sure… you can fight him and fulfill your mandatory defense at the same time. But what if he doesn’t? Then what? You only have five months left. There’s no time left for another voluntary defense.”