VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Across the floor, Tōjō is already making his way toward Ryoma. He stops in front of him, hands in the pockets of his gym sweater.

"So you're really here. Bold enough of you answering Renji's call."

"Said the man I've beaten in one round," Ryoma says' flatly, not even looking at his way.

Tōjō's face twitches with a flicker of irritation, but he plays it cool.

"Ah, right... should've congratulated you sooner," he says.

But there's no further response from Ryoma. His attention is fixed elsewhere, on Renji Kuroiwa in the ring, moving like a metronome of violence.

Soon, Ryoma's Vision Grid System blinks online.

***

[SCAN COMPLETE]

Reach: Optimized for stiff, controlling jabs.

Signature offense: Fast jab sequences; compact, destructive one-twos.

Build change: Slightly bulkier than during last title fight, off diet, carrying extra mass.

Risk factor: Operating just above Lightweight threshold. Power output likely increased.

***

Ryoma exhales slowly, knowing that this Renji is bigger, just slightly, but clearly stronger and more dangerous.

Tōjō also glances at the ring. And there he realizes that he is completely not in Ryoma's radar. His face turns sour, and ultimately…

"Tch!" He turns on his heels and walks away. "Don't forget, you still owe me. Just pray he doesn't break you before I collect."

Only after Tōjō leaves does Ryoma glances at him. It'd be a lie to say he hadn't noticed him. But he just doesn't have any interest in him anymore.

Moments later, Coach Nakahara comes to Ryoma, crutches in front of him, and grips one of his gloves.

"So what do you think of our Champion?" he asks.

"He looks bigger than the last time I saw him?" Ryoma replies. "And I don't see the trace of injury from his last fight."

Coach Nakahara nods. "But he is known more for his destructive offense than defense. And that extra weight surely makes him hit harder."

"But it makes him slower, no?" Ryoma grins, like trying to lift Nakahara's mood.

"He's still the champ," Nakahara says flatly. "You might have a speed edge, but he's beaten faster men than you."

There is no argument for that, and Ryoma nods in acknowledgment.

"Start warming up," Nakahara says.

He straightens from his crouch and gives Hiroshi a quick nod, signaling he's leaving Ryoma in his care.

"Might as well greet our host," he adds over his shoulder. "Don't work him up too much. It's only three rounds, but our opponent's still a titleholder."

"Yes, coach!" Hiroshi nods.

Ryoma stretches first, then slips into light shadowboxing; angles, combinations, measured movement. He's not showing his full arsenal, but it's enough to draw eyes.

"He doesn't look that impressive."

"He could just be holding up."

"Remember, he's defeated our Tōjō."

"His hands aren't moving much, but look at those legs. Smooth footwork."

"He didn't use them much during his fight with Tōjō. But I heard he was an out-boxer."

"Well, against someone like our Renji, I can only see him running around the whole time."

Coach Nakahara hears the murmurs but keeps his eyes on Kirizume, who is stepping down from the ring.

"So, how's Renji?" he asks.

Kirizume sighs. "Not at his best. Been partying since that title fight."

"Heh!" Nakahara scoffs, his smirk thin and sour, not buying a word.

His eyes shift to Renji, now watching from closer range. Indeed, the champion's filled out since his last fight, sure, but Nakahara can tell he's been working.

Especially the bounce on the balls of Renji's feet, it's the movement of a man preparing to hunt something fast in a tight 6×6 meter space.

Nakahara's gaze returns to Kirizume, lips curling in faint irritation.

"You went as far as inviting the press?" he says. "Are you trying to humiliate us just because my boy beat your Tōjō? You're the one who asked Ryoma to open for Renji's title fight. Now you trying to destroy him because of that loss?"

"No, no… Please, Coach Nakahara!" Kirizume waves it off with a too-bright smile. "I didn't call them for that petty reason. You see, I might ask Ryoma to fill in the opening fight for Renji's next title match. Thought I could draw more crowds if we create some spark here."

Then he leans closer, his expression shifts, smile fading.

"So, please. Tell your boy to try surviving Renji for more than one round."

Whether it's a warning, a threat, or just boasting, Nakahara doesn't flinch. He answers with a polite smile.

"Then please tell Renji to go easy on my boy."

Kirizume chuckles, turning to Renji back in the ring. "You heard him, didn't you?"

Renji doesn't look away from his shadowboxing. "Relax. You're our guests here. Just enjoy the show."

***

Ryoma finishes his warm-up with the precision of someone who's done this dance countless times, yet the air around him feels different today. He steps through the ropes into his corner, where Hiroshi is stationed just outside, still kneading his shoulders with quick, practiced motions.

Nakahara joins him in the ring, leaning in close as he adjusts the headgear. His face is half-hidden as if they were in the middle of an official bout rather than a three-round spar.

"Forget that this is just sparring," Nakahara murmurs. "Go in there and give everything. Renji's not here to play; he wants to beat you, and he won't do it half-heartedly."

Ryoma studies the old man's face in the half-shadow between them; the faint twitch near his right cheek, the stiffness in his jaw when he speaks.

His Vision Grid feeds him the quiet verdict: Coach is unsettled, trying hard to mask it, but the agitation is there.

"What's wrong, Coach?" Ryoma's voice carries a faint scoff. "You look tense. Did Kirizume get under your skin earlier?"

"Just focus on your opponent," Nakahara says, brushing it aside. "First round, keep your distance and play it safe."

Ryoma's expression sharpens. "Understood."

Around them, the crowd thickens. There are more than a dozen of Kirizume Boxing Gym fighters, pros and amateurs alike, each a silent pillar of support for Renji.

The two journalists hover like vultures at ringside, neither rooting openly for either side but clearly here under Kirizume's summons.

And then there's Aki, edging closer to Ryoma's corner, the only one beaming genuine encouragement.

"Ryoma! Ganbatte-yoo!" she calls out, voice bright.

Beside her stands Reika, wrong dress for a boxing gym, wrong energy for the atmosphere, yet her gaze remains locked on Ryoma with something sharp and unreadable. If Aki's cheer radiates innocence, Reika's presence pulls questions into the air.

For one valid reason, Renji has noticed her too. In a sea of sweatshirts and gloves, Reika and Aki are the only women here. And while Aki still carries the softness of a rookie office worker, Reika's beauty is poised, deliberate, the kind that turns heads without trying.

But for Renji, it's more than just the surface. He knows her background… and her bloodline.

"You see that girl over there?" he says, tilting his head to the back.

Kirizume doesn't bother looking. "I know she's your type, but keep your eyes on the fight."

"No, no… you don't get it," Renji chuckles. "Not just my type. She's Logan Rhodes' only daughter."

That name snaps Kirizume's attention up. "Logan Rhodes? The guy who runs NSN?"

Renji nods solemnly.

But Renji isn't the only one who recognizes her. The two senior journalists exchange quick glances, as if to confirm they're not imagining things.

Now that they see Reika up close, they begin to recognize her. Tough part of them doubts it, because what sense would it make for Reika Takamori to appear here, of all places, with a Class-C rookie at her side?

Ryoma, a fighter with one pro bout, shouldn't even graze her orbit. The imbalance is so stark it leaves them unsettled.