VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA - Chapter 396: Only Ryoma
Chapter 396: Only Ryoma
Meanwhile…
Not far from the polished lights of Roppongi’s hotels, in a bar that thrives on dim corners and low ceilings rather than spectacle, the night takes a different shape.
The place isn’t loud enough to drown thoughts, nor quiet enough to invite reflection. Amber light pools over the counter, catching on glass rims and half-finished bottles.
Reika sits at a small table near the wall, her coat draped over the back of her chair, untouched drink sweating in front of her.
Across from her, Aki leans forward, elbows on the table, watching her carefully.
Reika doesn’t look angry. That’s the unsettling part. Her posture is stiff, shoulders held too high, eyes fixed somewhere past the glass as if replaying something she can’t rewind.
The confidence she wears so easily in public has slipped, replaced by something rawer, hurt pressed tight under pride.
Just an hour ago, Ryoma’s words had landed like a blade, clean and merciless. Not just rejection, but erasure, a line drawn so clearly it left no room to argue, no space to negotiate.
She lifts her glass and takes a drink she doesn’t taste.
“…He said he’d break my neck,” she says at last, voice flat, almost disbelieving. “Like it was nothing. Can you believe that?”
Aki’s fingers tighten around her own glass. The bar noise swells and recedes around them, but at their table, the night feels heavy, waiting for something to spill.
Reika lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a tremor, and finally looks down at her drink.
“I don’t get it,” she says, more to herself than to Aki. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Aki doesn’t interrupt. She knows better than to rush Reika when she’s like this.
“I helped him,” Reika continues, the words coming faster now, sharpening as she speaks. “I opened doors for him. Introduced him to people he would never meet on his own. My father backed his name, NSN put resources behind him. Do you know how many fighters would kill for that kind of support?”
She lifts her glass again, this time drinking more than a sip.
“And he talks to me like I’m some kind of villain,” she scoffs. “Like I forced myself into his life. Like he didn’t benefit from any of it.”
Her jaw tightens, eyes flashing with wounded pride. “If anything, I saved him time. I shortened the path. That’s what this industry is. You don’t climb alone, and you don’t get anywhere by pretending you don’t need people.”
Aki’s brow creases. “But Reika… did you really do all of this for him?”
“Of course,” Reika snaps. “Who else would it be for? For Nakahara? For Hiroshi? For those nameless stupid boxers…”
“For yourself,” Aki cuts in, her voice flat.
Reika freezes, the words landing like a slap. For a moment, she can only stare.
“I warned you,” Aki continues, unrelenting. “You’re selfish. The way you barged into his life, invaded his space, interfered with his relationship. Did you really think someone like Ryoma wouldn’t notice? That he wouldn’t see exactly what you were trying to do?”
“But I…” Reika’s voice breaks. The protest dies in her throat as the weight of Aki’s words finally sinks in.
Aki had warned her. She remembers it now, remembers laughing it off, trusting her own charm, certain she could bend things her way if she tried hard enough. That confidence feels grotesque in hindsight.
Now her shoulders sag. She sinks back, hands trembling, and a sob tears out of her chest. “I love him,” she chokes. “Is that so wrong?”
“It is,” Aki says quietly, “when you force yourself into someone’s life. When you start sabotaging it. When you act like he owes you something.”
The words echo another voice, exactly Ryoma’s harsh word when rejecting her. He’d said almost the same thing. Hearing it now, stripped of anger, makes it worse, makes it completely undeniable.
Reika squeezes her eyes shut. There’s no path back, no apology big enough, no gesture that could undo what she’s done. Whatever she had with Ryoma is already gone.
She lifts the glass to her lips and drinks, fast and reckless, chasing the burn. If she can numb her head enough, drown the thoughts and the regret, maybe the ache will finally shut up.
After downing more than five glasses, Aki catches the last one before it reaches Reika’s mouth again.
“That’s enough,” she says, “You’re done.”
Reika jerks, offended. “Don’t…” She laughs, sharp and humorless. “Don’t act like my mother.”
“This isn’t your penthouse,” Aki snaps, lowering her voice and leaning in.
The air smells like old smoke, spilled alcohol, sweat that doesn’t belong to either of them. Too many shadows. Too few witnesses. Too dangerous for a girl to get drunk with just another weak girl having the correct mind.
“Look around you. This place isn’t safe. It’s just us. Two women. And you can barely stand.”
“So?” Reika tugs again, sloppy, stubborn. “I’m not scared.”
“That’s not bravery,” Aki says. “That’s stupidity.”
Reika finally manages to yank her hand back and downs what’s left in the glass in one reckless tilt. Liquor spills down her chin, darkening the collar of her blouse.
“There,” she says, breathless, triumphant. “See? Still alive.”
Aki swears under her breath. She grabs Reika by the elbow this time, not gentle anymore.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
Reika protests the whole way, muttering, laughing, stumbling, heels scraping against the ground as Aki half-drags her across the dim lot.
By the time the familiar silhouette of the Lexus comes into view, Reika’s head is lolling, words slurring into each other.
Then suddenly…
“Hey…wait.”
A male voice cuts through the night. And Aki freezes.
A man steps out from beside the car, followed by two others hanging back near the curb. He looks cleaner than the place they’re standing in, pressed jacket, careful hair.
His eyes widen as he takes them in.
“Reika?” He blinks, incredulous. “What are you doing here?”
Reika squints at him, slow and unfocused, then snorts. “Wow. You look great. What’s your name, pretty boy?”
It’s actually Eiji Kitagawa, her boyfriend, the one she’s ghosted for over a year now. But she doesn’t seem to recognize him. That’s just how drunk she is.
Eiji steps closer despite himself. “Did you drink?” His gaze flicks to Aki, then back to Reika. “You’re drunk, Reika.”
Reika straightens as much as she can, pride flaring through the haze. “What if I am?” She leans into Aki’s hold, smirking. “Not your business.”
“Reika,” Eiji says, embarrassed now, aware of his friends behind him. “I’m asking because…”
“Please,” she cuts in, waving a dismissive hand. “Not even my father gets to scold me. You think you do?”
Aki tightens her grip, already calculating exits.
Reika suddenly giggles, the sound loose and careless. “If it were Ryoma, though…” She sighs, dreamy, eyes half-lidded. “The Cruel King. I’d listen. I’d obey every word. I’d kneel if he asked… just to hear him say I did well.”
The silence that follows is brutal. Eiji’s mouth opens, and then closes. He glances back at his friends, their expressions shifting.
“Reika,” he says slowly. “What are you talking about? Did you… did you see another man?”
Reika sways, nearly slipping from Aki’s grasp. Eiji steps forward on instinct and reaches for her arm.
And she reacts instantly, swinging her hand, palm smacking hard against his chest.
“Don’t touch me,” she spits. “Filthy hands.”
Eiji stumbles back a step, stunned.
She fumbles with the car door, finally yanking it open. “Only Ryoma can touch me,” she murmurs, possessive, reverent. “Ryoma alone.”
Aki lunges before Reika can climb into the driver’s seat. “No. Absolutely not.” She shoves the door shut with one hand and hauls Reika around the back of the car. “You’re not driving.”
“Hey…!” Reika protests weakly, feet tangling, words dissolving into laughter.
They pass Eiji again, but this time he grabs Reika’s wrist, panic and humiliation mixing on his face. “Wait. Who is Ryoma?” His grip tightens. “Tell me. Who is he?”
“She’s drunk,” Aki says quickly, stepping between them. “It’s nonsense. Some character from a drama she’s been watching.”
Eiji doesn’t look convinced. “Reika! Who is this Ryoma?”
Reika peers at him as if seeing him for the first time. “Ryoma is my boyfriend,” she announces proudly. “My man. My king.” She squints. “My whole world…”
Then her expression shifts, confusion flickering into recognition.
“Oh.” She tilts her head. “Is that you, Eiji?”
For a split second, guilt flashes across her face. Then she shoves him away, clumsy but determined, and staggers off in a crooked line like she might bolt.
Aki catches her hand hard. “Enough.” She yanks her back, forces her into the passenger seat, and slams the door shut before Reika can protest again.
Aki rounds the car quickly, pauses just long enough to flash Eiji an apologetic brittle smile.
“Don’t mind her,” she says lightly. “She’s drunk.”
She gets into the driver’s seat, starts the engine, and pulls away without another word.
Eiji stands there, unmoving, headlights washing over him and then disappearing down the road. His friends pretend not to look, which somehow makes it worse.
“…Ryoma?” he mutters, the name sour in his mouth.
