VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Ryoma pulls on his boxing gloves and climbs into the ring without bothering to put on his headgear.

Just then, Nakahara enters the gym with Sera, the two of them deep in conversation. The moment they spot Ryoma in the ring, their discussion comes to an abrupt halt.

Nakahara immediately raises his voice. ”Hey, Ryoma! What the hell are you doing? You’ve got a fight of your own coming up, and you’re planning to spar with Kenta without even telling us?”

”And without headgear?” Sera adds, quickening his pace toward the ring. ”Have you lost your mind?”

”No, no,” Ryoma replies calmly. ”We’re just doing some technical drills, not sparring.”

”Ryoma’s helping me sharpen my defense,” Kenta adds. ”I won’t hit him back.”

”Oh, technical drills,” Sera mutters, his concern easing. ”Well, in that case, fine.”

He immediately heads over to Hiroshi, and soon the two are engrossed in their discussion.

Nakahara, however, remains by the ring, keeping a close eye on the two boxers. Just because they call it a technical drill doesn’t mean he can afford to let his guard down when Ryoma is involved.

They begin gently, with Ryoma throwing measured, controlled punches while occasionally offering Kenta a few pointers between combinations.

Kenta focuses entirely on his defense, adjusting his guard, changing levels, and shifting his stance and angles with minimal footwork. He keeps his movements economical, trying to avoid unnecessary steps while staying responsive to Ryoma’s attacks.

But with Kenta forbidden from throwing back, Ryoma’s steady stream of combinations gradually drives him toward the ropes.

Ryoma sends a series of lefts toward his head. Kenta slips the first few, but with each movement, his position grows more precarious, until Ryoma abruptly pulls back.

”No.” He shakes his head. ”This won’t do, Kenta. I did tell you to keep your footwork minimal, but you’re letting yourself get trapped on the ropes far too early. Too easy.”

”What do you expect?” Kenta shoots back. ”You won’t let me hit back, so you can attack me however you want and keep taking away my options.”

Ryoma nods as he steps back. ”Exactly why I thought you needed these drills. Now, come back here.”

Kenta obediently follows, almost like a well-behaved child. Which is a little ridiculous, considering Ryoma is four years younger than him.

”Look, I know you don’t have that much speed in your legs,” Ryoma begins. ”But you don’t always need it. And just a little nimbler is not enough. You need to be a bit more expressive with your movements.”

Kenta grimaces. ”What? You want me to start dancing like Cabello now? Just forget it.”

Ryoma shakes his head, then starts bouncing lightly on his feet, his legs and shoulders loose. He raises his guard and begins swaying in a subtle pendulum rhythm, sometimes moving back and forth, other times shifting laterally from side to side.

His movements are exactly like Kenta’s. It doesn’t take long for Kenta to recognize his own style being mimicked right in front of him.

”Are you mocking me?” Kenta asks.

”Now you can see your own movements,” Ryoma replies. ”So why don’t you judge for yourself how easy it is to read your rhythm?”

He keeps moving within a small area, deliberately demonstrating how Kenta tends to react when an opponent prepares to attack. As though facing an invisible opponent, Ryoma’s loose shoulders and legs suddenly stiffen the moment he anticipates an incoming punch. He plants his feet and adjusts his guard without moving from his spot, bracing himself for the imagined blows.

After holding the position for a moment, Ryoma stops and raises an eyebrow. ”Imagine you’re fighting yourself. Don’t you see how easy you make it for your opponent to catch you?”

Outside the ring, Nakahara’s eyes narrow slightly as he begins to understand what Ryoma is getting at. He isn’t entirely convinced by the criticism himself, but as always, he prefers to observe a little longer before intervening.

Kenta, meanwhile, is quick to argue back. ”You know I’m not an outboxer. And weren’t you the one who said you’d bring the beast inside me back to life? So why are you suddenly lecturing me about footwork like I’m some amateur?”

”Sure, I can help you get into the zone,” Ryoma says. ”And by now, you’ve probably figured out that, for you, it happens when you’re under pressure. But wouldn’t it be better if you weren’t so easy to pressure in the first place?”

Ryoma resumes hopping in place, his movements loose and relaxed, his shoulders and neck swaying as though following an unheard rhythm.

”And I have no intention of turning you into an outboxer,” he says.

Without covering much ground, Ryoma begins adding more feints to his pendulum rhythm. He still uses Kenta’s footwork as the foundation, but introduces variations without taking wide steps or requiring much room.

”You know... I’ve never considered the rule to protect yourself at all times an absolute.”

Ryoma deliberately lets both arms hang low, swaying with his rhythm. Then he stops hopping, but his upper body continues to sway from side to side, his arms spread loosely as if he’s always ready to attack.

”With this,” Ryoma says, ”you’re sending a warning before your opponent even gets within range. You’re telling him he can’t just walk into your space whenever he wants. Besides, if he’s still out of range, there’s no point in keeping your guard up.”

Suddenly, he dips into a low stance, almost crouching, then fakes steps by shifting his lead foot right, left, then right again.

He returns to his normal stance and repeats the motion, this time shifting his rear foot left, right, then left while keeping his lead foot planted.

To bring it all together, Ryoma runs through the movements again in one smooth sequence rather than demonstrating each one separately.

That’s when Kenta begins to see the pattern. Even without covering any ground, Ryoma is already displaying the rhythm of Cuban boxing.

”Just random movements,” Ryoma says. ”Fake steps, hesitation, stutters, level changes. Blend them into your pendulum rhythm, all within this small space.”

He demonstrates again, mixing the movements without any discernible pattern, his body remaining smooth, nimble, and loose.

”Even before you throw a punch, you’re already making it difficult for your opponent to predict what you’ll do,” Ryoma explains. ”And that’s before you even need to retreat or defend yourself.”

Ryoma stops and spreads both arms. ”In other words, you still have plenty of room to work with. Because you haven’t run away from your opponent. You’re very much still here in front of him.”

From his normal stance, Ryoma suddenly makes a shuffle step, moving his lead foot forward and his rear foot back as he dips his upper body to the right. He then pulls his lead foot out of position.

”And just like that, you’re out of your opponent’s angle. And look, my rear foot is still here, which means...”

He dips his upper body again, rocks it smoothly to one side, then rolls into another movement, shuffling his legs into a similar sidestep in a different direction.

He repeats the sequence, mixing L-steps and Z-steps, moving left to right and right to left while shuffling his stance.

His upper body continues to sway and rock subtly, never abandoning the feints and pendulum steps he has been demonstrating.

”All within a limited area, and you can keep getting off the line.”

”Hold on, Ryoma.” Nakahara finally intervenes from outside the ring. ”If you’re trying to get Kenta to incorporate all this into his style, three weeks won’t be enough. And I’m worried he’ll end up forgetting how to fight. He’s not like you who can mimic a new style after seeing once.”

Ryoma turns toward him, unfazed. ”He doesn’t have to reach this level. I’m just showing him how many options he has even without constantly moving away and circling the ring like an outboxer.”

He glances at Kenta before continuing. ”My point is to get you to stop being so rigid. You need to be a little more versatile. At the top level, the way you fight now will turn you into nothing more than a punching bag.”

Yet Nakahara still looks unconvinced and climbs into the ring.

”No, this is too risky…”

But Kenta immediately stops him. ”Hold on, Coach. I think I get it.”

He steps forward, settling into a looser stance.

”Let’s go, Ryoma.”

Ryoma smiles and turns back to him. The moment he raises his left glove, Kenta begins his small pendulum steps, his arms still hanging low.

”Here I go,” Ryoma says, sliding his lead foot forward as he prepares to jab.

Kenta smoothly pulls his lead foot back, then shifts it slightly forward again, setting it a little wider than before. His stance lowers, his body angled slightly to the left.

His head is already off the line, forcing Ryoma to adjust his angle before attempting the jab again. Yet Kenta never stops moving, despite staying within that small area without relying on speed.

When Ryoma eventually starts throwing a series of measured jabs, Kenta finds them easier to evade without constantly tightening his guard.

Ryoma jabs. Then jabs again. And again.

Kenta keeps slipping the punches, letting them pass just above his shoulders as he continues moving within that confined space.

At times, he still needs to bring up his guard to block, parry, or deflect a punch. He even takes a step to escape an attack before angling off the line.

”That’s it, Kenta. Now you see it. You still have so much room to work with.”

Kenta doesn’t incorporate every trick Ryoma demonstrated. He only picks up a few of them, and his attempts to express these new movements still look stiff and awkward.

After all, unlike Ryoma or Ryohei, Kenta has never been the expressive type.

But he can feel the difference himself. For the first time, he can see the possibilities, the options he never realized he had before.