VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

With the announcements concluded, the conference shifts into its final ritual. Fighters, management, representatives from Aqualis Labs, NSN Tokyo, TV Asahi, and Fuji Television gather across the stage while photographers begin issuing the sort of synchronized instructions that somehow sound identical in every country.

”Smile…”

”Look here.”

”One more, please.”

”Now the other camera.”

The resulting photograph captures exactly what Ronin wants the public to see. Nobody appears intimidated by the scale of the occasion. Not by Tokyo Dome, not by four championship bouts, and certainly not by a world title main event.

Every face carries the same confidence, except one. Ryohei manages to smile just enough for the cameras, though he looks suspiciously like a man politely attending someone else’s birthday party.

The moment the flashbulbs stop firing, he slips away and rushes toward his brand-new sports car.

”Ah, Ryohei Yamada!”

”Yamada-san, wait!”

”Yamada! Just one question!”

Unfortunately for them, horsepower answers first. The sports car disappears before a cluster of reporters can catch him.

The rest of Ronin isn’t nearly as fortunate. A wave of reporters quickly surrounds the remaining fighters and executives, stretching what should have been a brief media session well past twenty minutes. Only after Kurogane firmly brings it to an end and escorts the Aqualis Labs representatives through the crowd does the group finally manage to leave.

Ryoma and Aramaki climb into Reika’s Lexus, with Maria taking the passenger seat while Reika starts the engine.

The drive begins quietly. Ryoma and Aramaki spend most of it looking out the side window, seemingly absorbed by the passing cityscape.

Reika, however, keeps stealing quick glances toward Ryoma every few seconds, each one lasting just a little longer than the last.

It doesn’t take long for Maria to notice. ”You know,” she says with a sigh, ”if you keep driving like that, this whole Tokyo Dome project is going to fall apart.”

Reika blinks. ”...Excuse me?”

”Not just the project,” Ryoma says without taking his eyes off the window. ”Our lives might be in danger too. You should probably watch the road.”

Reika’s face immediately turns bright red as the realization sinks in; Ryoma had noticed her every stolen glance.

Too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes, she instinctively lowers her head, completely unaware that the Lexus has begun drifting toward the curb.

”Reika!” Maria yelps. ”The road!”

”Ah! S-Sorry! Sorry!”

***

Meanwhile, the rest of the team is already on the road in Ronin’s Aqualis Labs-branded minivan, with Hiroshi at the wheel.

There is no training scheduled for today, because tomorrow, the entire team leaves for a two-month intensive training camp in Nagano.

Hiroshi first drops Satoru off, then Okabe, before finally pulling up outside Nakahara’s apartment.

As Kenta reaches for the sliding door, Nakahara calls after him.

”Wait. Since you’re home earlier, do the laundry for me.”

Kenta nods and turns away, heading toward the apartment.

After that, the minivan continues through Tokyo traffic in no particular hurry until Hiroshi suddenly remembers something.

”Oh, right. Dr. Mizuno is coming too. Apparently Aqualis Labs assigned an assistant to work with him. I heard they want to travel together.”

”With this van?” Kurogane asks. ”Where are we supposed to put them?”

Hiroshi laughs. ”No, Aqualis is providing them with a car. I just don’t know where they’ll be staying. Do you think we should prepare accommodation for them as well?”

”Ask Dr. Mizuno first,” Nakahara replies. ”NSN has probably already arranged everything.”

By the time the conversation dies down, the minivan is already turning into the familiar street in front of Ronin Gym.

Before Hiroshi even switches off the engine, everyone notices Ryohei waiting outside, leaning against his brand-new sports car with both arms folded across his chest.

Nakahara steps out first. ”Why are you still here?”

Ryohei pushes himself away from the car and walks straight toward him, his expression making it obvious he has been waiting specifically for this conversation.

”What was that all about? I thought we’d already agreed my rematch with Umemoto would be the co-main event, right before Ryoma.”

Nakahara doesn’t even slow his pace as he heads toward the entrance. ”When did we agree to that? I don’t remember making any such promise.”

Ryohei follows close behind, his voice rising. ”I knew it. This has to be Ryoma’s idea. He’s always doing this to me. Every single…”

Nakahara stops and turns around before Ryohei can finish.

”That decision was mine.”

His voice isn’t loud, but it is firm enough to silence Ryohei immediately.

”You’ve spent far too much time comparing yourself to him. Competing with him is one thing. Being jealous of him is another. Do you think promoting a boxing event is easy? Every show we organize puts nearly every yen this company owns on the line.”

He gestures toward Ryoma’s apartment building somewhere beyond the surrounding streets, though neither of them can actually see it.

”Look at that kid. Even now he’s still living in the apartment his father left him. Every morning he walks from there to this gym because he still thinks every unnecessary expense should go back into the company.”

Only then does Nakahara glance at the gleaming sports car parked beside them.

”And you… make a little money and immediately show up in a sports car.”

Ryohei frowns. ”So you’re upset because I bought a sports car? I paid for it with my own money.”

”I couldn’t care less what you spend your own money on,” Nakahara replies. ”Buy ten sports cars if that’s what makes you happy. But don’t lecture us on how to run Ronin Fight Management when you still think like a fighter instead of someone responsible for everyone else’s livelihood.”

He holds Ryohei’s gaze for another moment before adding, ”And if you truly can’t accept the way we do things here, you’re free to sign with another promoter. Ronin Fight Management has never believed in keeping fighters by treating them like property.”

Ryohei falls silent for a moment. The confidence that had carried him through the argument wavers ever so slightly, and for an instant he looks almost as though he might reconsider what Nakahara has just said.

But it doesn’t last. He lets out a dry laugh, turns toward his car, and lifts a hand in dismissal without looking back.

”Right. I get it. Now that Ronin’s getting bigger, you’ve started turning into people like them.”

Nakahara’s expression tightens. ”Oh, spare me,” he snaps. ”You should be saying that to yourself. You win one national title and suddenly you think the entire universe revolves around you?”

Ryohei pauses with one hand already on the driver’s door but doesn’t answer.

”You’re not the only fighter in this company,” Nakahara continues. ”And this company doesn’t exist to feed your ego. It exists because everyone standing behind that press conference today has sacrificed something to build it. The sooner you understand that, the better off you’ll be.”

Without another word, Ryohei yanks the door open, climbs into the driver’s seat, and slams it shut a little harder than necessary.

A moment later, the sports car pulls away from the curb, its engine echoing down the street before disappearing into the afternoon traffic.

Nakahara can only watch the sports car disappear down the street, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles along his face twitch.

Behind him, Hiroshi, Sera, and Kurogane remain silent, their eyes following the car until it vanishes beyond the intersection. Their expressions carry the same mixture of disappointment and concern.

Kurogane is the first to break the silence as he turns toward the gym entrance. ”This is what happens when a gym starts producing too many champions.”

Sera slips both hands and turns to Nakahara. ”To be fair, I can’t completely blame him. A fighter without an ego rarely survives long in this business. Sometimes that stubborn belief that you’re better than everyone else is exactly what carries you through the hardest rounds.”

Nakahara nods slowly. ”Every champion needs that kind of confidence. The problem starts when he can no longer tell the difference between believing in himself and believing everything should revolve around him.”

He looks over at Sera. ”He’s your fighter. Figure out how to keep that ego working for him instead of against him. I don’t mind him competing with Ryoma. I just don’t want him seeing Ryoma as the enemy.”

Nakahara resumes walking toward the entrance before adding one last sentence. ”That kid has sacrificed a lot just to help us survive.”