VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Ryoma’s words leave the room in silence. The three coaches sit there without answering, their pride as older men undeniably bruised. Yet beneath that sting lies a more uncomfortable truth: not a single one of them can honestly refute his argument.

Instead of arguing back, they find themselves reflecting. Ronin has grown far beyond anything they once imagined. A small gym with limited resources has somehow produced champion after champion in just a few short years.

Perhaps because they all came from that humble beginning, they have never fully embraced the harsh professionalism expected at the highest level, still clinging to the family atmosphere that helped build the gym.

It is Ryoma’s ambition that has carried Ronin this far. He became the promoter when no one else could, even forced himself into the role of a psychologist at times, believing that building an unbreakable mentality was every bit as important as teaching someone how to fight.

”If pressure like this is enough to make him retire...” Ryoma adds, ”then maybe he was never worthy of being a champion in the first place.”

Right after that, he steps out of the room, leaving the three coaches alone with a silence that feels even heavier than before.

The room remains silent for several long seconds before Sera finally lets out a weary sigh. ”So this is the downside of being a coach. Once your athlete becomes big enough, the coach turns into nothing more than an errand boy. Seems like that’s true in every sport.”

Neither Nakahara nor Hiroshi responds. They have known Ryoma far longer than Sera has, and while there may be some truth in his bitterness, neither of them has managed to pull himself away from his own self-reflection.

”What did he say?” Sera mutters with another humorless laugh. ”None of you can do your jobs as coaches?”

”He wasn’t wrong,” Hiroshi replies quietly. ”We’ve watched Ryohei become like this for months. We all saw it happening, yet none of us ever dealt with it. We kept polishing his boxing techniques while pretending everything else would sort itself out.”

Sera’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. The words hit a nerve because, among the three of them, he has spent the most time trying to guide Ryohei. Yet when Hiroshi speaks about focusing only on the technical side, Sera cannot honestly deny that boxing is the one thing he has always known how to teach. Everything beyond the ropes has always felt like someone else’s responsibility.

Hiroshi breaks the silence again. ”I don’t know about you two, but Ryoma has never disrespected me. Doesn’t matter that he’s become the biggest name in this gym. He’s never once crossed that line.”

He pauses, letting out a quiet breath. ”Tonight was the first time he openly judged me as a coach... and honestly? What can I even say to argue with it?”

Then he turns toward Sera. ”The way you blamed him just now... you talked as if you had no responsibility for how Ryohei ended up like this. But the same accusation you threw at Ryoma could just as easily be thrown back at yourself.”

Sera’s eyes widen. His jaw clenches. He is about to fire back when Nakahara lightly bumps the table and steals their attention.

”Enough,” he says. ”You’re both my assistants. The one responsible for what happens inside this gym has always been me. Not either of you... and certainly not Ryoma.”

He exhales deeply and rubs a tired hand across his forehead. ”I kicked Shimamura out of this gym before. And not a single day has passed since then without me wondering whether I made the right decision. When Ryohei started walking down the same path, I became afraid of making the same mistake twice. Before I realized it, I had already stopped making the difficult decisions a head coach is supposed to make.”

Nakahara slowly rises from his chair and reaches for his jacket. ”It’s not too late yet. I’ll go find Ryohei.”

Hiroshi immediately stands as well. ”I’ll come with you.”

Nakahara shakes his head. ”No. Stay here. Someone still has to keep things running.”

***

Leaving the meeting room, Nakahara heads back to his room to grab a change of clothes. Just as he is about to step outside, the door slides open with Ryoma standing there.

”Old man. I need the van key.”

Nakahara blinks. ”For what?”

”I’m going back to Tokyo.”

A faint look of surprise crosses Nakahara’s face.

”You’re going after Ryohei.”

”I don’t have time for that.” Ryoma’s expression remains flat. ”Shibata-san just called. The prosecution wants me in court tomorrow as a witness against Hugo Ramirez.”

”At a time like this?”

”What choice do I have?” Ryoma replies. ”It’s a court request. Besides, that bastard is still trying to reduce the charges. The prosecutors are worried this could end with nothing more than probation for ordinary assault. If he walks free, you know exactly what’s at stake.”

His gaze lands on the wooden cabinet beside Nakahara’s bed, where the van key has been left in plain sight. Without another word, he walks over, picks it up, and heads for the door.

”Hey, wait,” Nakahara calls after him.

Ryoma doesn’t even break stride. ”I’ll be back as soon as it’s over.”

Moments later, the engine outside rumbles to life. Nakahara rushes out of the lodge just in time to see Ryoma shifting the van into gear.

”Ryoma! Hold on! You can’t just take the van!”

”Oh, please. Fujimoto-san gave this van for me.”

The van rolls away before Nakahara can say another word. He jogs after it for several steps, then finally gives up, bending forward with both hands on his knees.

”Damn it...” he mutters between breaths. ”At least let me hitch a ride to Tokyo.”

***

By the time Ryoma arrives back in Tokyo, he doesn’t stop by Ronin’s gym or the office. He goes straight home, where Superintendent Shibata and the prosecutor handling Ramirez’s case are already waiting outside his apartment.

There is no time wasted on catching up. The moment they enter, they begin the briefing. They go over the latest developments in the trial, the points the prosecution needs to strengthen, and how Ryoma’s testimony can influence the judge’s perception of Ramirez’s actions and intentions.

Shibata places a thick case file on the table before looking at Ryoma. ”The defense has changed its strategy. Ramirez is no longer denying the collision itself. They’re admitting he ordered it, but they’re reducing everything to a single reckless act that got out of hand. Nothing more.”

Ryoma leans back slightly. ”And Manila?”

The prosecutor slowly shakes his head. ”We still can’t prove it. So tomorrow, we’re not going to fight them over Manila. We’re going to make the court see something else. The issue is no longer whether he wanted to kill you. It’s whether his actions fundamentally destroyed the life of another professional athlete.”

He closes the file and meets Ryoma’s eyes. ”So tomorrow, don’t help us prove the crime. Help us prove the damage.”

A faint smile appears on Ryoma’s face. ”I think I can do that.”

Shibata lets out a long breath. ”If we can’t keep him behind bars for the rest of his life, then we’ll strip him of the money that gave him the power to do all this. We’ll finish him in civil court afterward.”

The prosecutor immediately raises a hand, a faint smile on his face. ”Leave me out of that. That would be an ethical violation. I’m here to represent the State for the crime lawsuit, not to defend Ryoma in a civil lawsuit.”

Ryoma smiles back. ”Relax. I know that. But at least, you can build a solid factual record during the criminal trial, right? Once that’s on the record, I’ll find my own attorney to handle everything afterward.”

The prosecutor considers it for a moment before giving a slow nod. ”If that’s all you mean... then I don’t see a problem.”

The discussion continues late into the night, focused entirely on one thing: making sure Ramirez cannot escape the consequences of what he did.