VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Kanzaki's irritation grows with every mirrored step. No matter how he shifts, Ryoma shadows him perfectly, as though the ring itself is mocking him.

Up in the stands, Ryoma's seniors lean forward in their seats, expressions caught somewhere between intrigue and worry.

"They really do look alike," Kenta mutters. "Almost like master and student."

Ryohei exhales slowly, still watching the exchange. "I don't know, but… there's something different about him today."

"What do you mean?"

"I've sparred with him more than anyone. And this… this isn't really his style."

Okabe blinks. "Not his style?"

"Look closely. Their movements… they're almost identical. It's like he's mimicking Kanzaki on purpose."

The words hang heavy. Both Kenta and Okabe fall silent, their expressions shifting as the realization sinks in.

Okabe smirks, irritated. "That cheeky brat… he's doing it just to piss Kanzaki off."

Ryohei nods, his voice low, certain. "You know him. No one gets under your skin like Ryoma."

Despite Ryoma's taunting, Kanzaki hasn't gone violence yet. He's still studying, calculating, making sure of Ryoma's real condition.

And strangely, the crowd follows their rhythm. Until finally, they also begin to realize what's unfolding before them.

Murmurs ripple through the hall, at first uncertain, then sharper as realization spreads.

"Is he… copying Kanzaki's every move?"

"What the hell? He's treating this like a joke!"

"That's not it. Look closer. The kid's sharper. It's like he's saying he's better than his senpai."

"Yeah… this is a statement. Ryoma's toying with him."

The murmurs twist, swelling into jeers aimed squarely at Kanzaki.

"Dance for him, Kanzaki!"

"Your kouhai's making you look like a mirror now!"

Each shout cuts deeper than Ryoma's fists. Kanzaki's jaw tightens, irritation burning across his face.

"Tch…" He exhales sharply through his nose. "Enough playing around."

He shifts gears. The left still flickers, but now Kanzaki's right begins to fire, straights woven into the jab sequences, the pressure doubling with each exchange.

He's no longer content to probe. He's smothering Ryoma before the mockery swallows him whole.

And the balance tilts. Unlike Kanzaki, Ryoma can't throw his right. His own left is forced to parry and guard against the oncoming assault, leaving fewer chances to fire back.

He still sends jabs in reply, sharp but fewer, each one followed by a retreating step, trying to hold the gap between them.

And then…

[Warning: Distance Control Breach — Risk of Cornering Imminent]

The Vision Grid flashes across his eye, red lines collapsing around him as his space is shrinking.

Ryoma immediately sidesteps, desperate to escape the ropes. But Kanzaki cuts him off, stepping in deep and ripping a left hook toward the body.

Thud!

It's blocked, but the force drives Ryoma backward.

He darts to slip out the other side, but Kanzaki is there first, whipping a right across his guard. The blow thuds against Ryoma's gloves, heavy enough to drive him back, pinning him square into the corner.

His heels kiss the corner post. And Kanzaki looms over him, sealing every exit.

"What's wrong?" Kanzaki snarls, pinning him in place. "Can't mirror me now? Can't use that right hand at all?"

The smirk fades from Ryoma's face, his expression hardening, eyes sharpening into something colder.

The shift doesn't go unnoticed. The crowd, once loud with cheers and jeers, quiets in ripples, the tension thickening as they see Ryoma giving ground.

From ringside, a commentator's voice also cuts through.

"Kanzaki's pressure is working. He's forcing him back."

"This is where experience counts."

No more taunts, now Ryoma looks every bit the fighter who knows he's cornered and has to claw his way out.

He snaps a jab forward, a decoy before running away. But Kanzaki blocks it easily, answering with a flurry, lefts and rights chained together, straights snapping high, hooks ripping low.

Ryoma's vision grid races to keep up. He reads the rhythm, catches most of the blows on his guard, slips just enough to keep his head clear.

But still…

Dsh!

A jab grazes his cheek, stinging like a spark.

Bughh!

A hook slams into his ribs, drawing a grunt from deep in his chest.

Pinned, pressured, Ryoma exhales slowly. He isn't out of ideas yet.

"Don't think your boxing is the only style I've learned."

His guard shifts, shoulders tilting, chin tucked behind his lead shoulder, his weight rolling to the back foot.

Kanzaki's right snaps high, but Ryoma just leans his head back, lifting the shoulder to shield. A left straight skims for his jaw, but he brushes it aside with a quick right parry.

To the untrained eye, Ryoma looks pinned. But the veterans, and the pros in the crowd, they see something else entirely.

"That…? Is that the Philly Shell?" Kenta leans forward, eyes narrowing.

"The what?" Okabe blinks.

"Philly Shell. Shoulder Roll," Ryohei answers before Kenta can. "You turn so only your left side's exposed. Left elbow guards the ribs, lead shoulder tilted high to shield the chin, weight rolled back on the rear foot."

Kenta nods, picking it up. "It leaves almost nothing open, except that left shoulder. Perfect for a counterpuncher. You parry with the right, then coil into a counter straight."

Ryohei's gaze sharpens. "But I… I've never seen him train this before." A beat passes, and his jaw tightening. "And worse… he can't even throw his right to counter."

Exactly, Ryoma can't launch anything back. All he can do is weather the storm. He smothers and blocks, letting Kanzaki's fists crash against his guard, his left shoulder taking the brunt.

His torso twists, shoulders rolling, head slipping just enough to deny Kanzaki a clean target. It frustrates Kanzaki, forces him to chase openings that never quite appear.

Even if it's just glove against arm or shoulder, and the judges may not see them clean scoring blows, Kanzaki still dominates the fight.

From ringside, the commentator leans into his mic. "Beautiful defense… but it's a desperation. If Takeda can't answer back, the judges will only see Kanzaki's aggression."

The other cuts in, almost brimming with anticipation. "Or maybe… he's waiting. Don't forget, Takeda's a natural counterpuncher. Don't blink, folks! If you look away, you might miss it."

The words ripple through the hall. The crowd stills, breath caught in their throats. Some remember too vividly: Ryoma's debut fight, when he unleashed a single counter from the corner, dropping his opponent cold.

A hush runs over the seats, brimming with anticipation. But sadly, Ryoma still doesn't throw a punch.

There's an opening when Kanzaki lunges in. Ryoma's Vision Grid flashes with a green rectangle framing the gap, screaming for a counter.

Ryoma coils, right fist tightening, every muscle primed to fire.

But the most anticipated counter never comes.

He can't throw it.