Matsuda Jotaro stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving with exertion. His hands, wrapped in sweat-soaked bandages, trembled slightly as he raised them high, acknowledging the roar of the crowd that surged from every corner of the hall.
The performance hall was a boiling cauldron of sound. The deafening cheers threatened to lift the roof, while a sea of camera flashes strobed against his exhausted yet steely face.
Just as the staff approached, carrying the shimmering gold championship belt for the trophy ceremony, a group of officers from the Bunkyo Precinct—led by a grim-faced Officer Ota—barged onto the ring. The atmosphere in the hall plummeted into a sudden, chilling silence.
In the stands, spectators exchanged confused glances. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd like a spreading tide.
The organizers of the event turned pale. One middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache hurried forward to intervene, but he was stopped dead by a single, sharp glare from Ota. He could only stand there awkwardly, frantically dabbing cold sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
"Matsuda," Ota said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "I let you finish your fight. Now, it's time to fulfill your end of the bargain."
"You're going too far!"
Matsuda Jinpei stepped in front of his father, his small fists clenched white. "They're about to present the award! How can you interrupt this now?"
His voice rang out with startling clarity in the quieted venue, causing the murmurs from the audience to grow into a low, dissatisfied rumble.
Jotaro wiped the sweat from his brow and took a deep, ragged breath. "Officer," he pleaded, his voice gravelly and raw. "Can you give me just a moment longer? Let me receive the gold belt, and I'll go with you immediately."
As he spoke, his gaze drifted involuntarily toward the belt resting just a few feet away. It was the physical proof of over a decade of blood and sacrifice.
"Matsuda!" Ota's voice rose, sharp and commanding. He took a predatory step forward. "My promise was to let you finish the fight. I never said a word about letting you stay for the ceremony!"
His hand moved to the handcuffs at his waist. "Come with us to the precinct right now, or I'll consider this resisting arrest!"
The crowd was stunned by the sudden turn of events. After a heartbeat of silence, a voice suddenly screamed from the stands: "Let him have his belt!"
That single cry acted as a fuse, igniting the collective fury of the audience.
"Matsuda Jotaro won! Why shouldn't he get his belt?"
"Whatever he's accused of, that honor is his! He earned it!"
"The police can't just be this unreasonable!"
A wave of anger crashed through the hall. People began stamping their feet, and a chorus of whistles and boos filled the air. The scene teetered on the edge of total chaos. The staff member holding the belt stood frozen, paralyzed by indecision.
Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, a younger officer leaned in nervously toward Ota. "Inspector, maybe we should just wait for—"
"Wait for what?!"
Ota shoved the younger officer aside with such force that the man stumbled back several steps, nearly tumbling off the ring. He marched toward Jotaro, pulling out a pair of gleaming steel handcuffs. "Since when does the law wait for a criminal?"
"Dad!" Jinpei threw his arms around Jotaro's leg. "Don't go..."
Jotaro's eyes brimmed with moisture. He knelt down, resting a rough, calloused hand on his son's soft black hair.
"It's alright, Jinpei. My dream has already come true." Jotaro forced a smile that looked more painful than a punch to the gut. "I can always pick up the belt once the investigation is cleared up."
"It's not the same!" Jinpei looked up, fighting back tears. "You should be standing on that podium to take it! You earned this!"
Jotaro chuckled softly, gently wiping the tear tracks from his son's face. "It's no different, really. Being able to finish today's match... I'm already satisfied. Go home with the Hagiwaras. Once everything is sorted out, I'll be right behind you."
Though reluctant, Jinpei gave a heavy nod. He tried to straighten his back, wanting to look like a man so his father wouldn't worry, but his trembling lips betrayed the fear of a child.
Just as Jotaro prepared to say his final words of caution, Ota grabbed his wrist impatiently, wrenching his arm behind his back with unnecessary brutality.
But just as the metal was about to snap shut around Jotaro's wrist, a clear, calm voice sliced through the tension.
"Inspector, aren't you being a bit too hasty?"
Ota narrowed his eyes, looking down from the ring at Hayashi Shuichi, who was standing calmly by the ropes.
"I've done what I promised," Ota snapped. "This is a case for the Bunkyo Precinct. It's not the place for a Metropolitan Police consultant to stick his nose in."
Shuichi didn't argue. Instead, the corners of his mouth curled into a faint, enigmatic smile. His silence and that knowing look sent a sudden, inexplicable jolt of unease through Ota.
Right then, a deep, booming voice echoed from the back of the hall.
"And if the First Investigation Division of the MPD is taking over the case? Does he have a say then?"
Accompanied by the sound of steady, heavy footsteps, Inspector Samezaki walked onto the ring, followed closely by Officers Matsumoto and Megure.
Samezaki reached into his suit jacket, pulled out an official document, and thrust it directly under Ota's nose. "As of this moment, this case falls under the jurisdiction of the First Investigation Division. Ota, if you have a problem with that, you're welcome to file a complaint with the higher-ups at headquarters."
Ota's face turned a sickly shade of ashen grey as he stared at the document. He glared at the red seal of the Metropolitan Police Department, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists in impotent rage.
Finally, through gritted teeth, he let go of Jotaro's arm.
The surrounding crowd, seeing the local police back down, erupted into a mixture of cheers and mocking jeers. Someone blew a loud, piercing whistle, making Ota's expression darken even further.
"Move out!" Ota barked at his men, shoving his way past them as they beat a hasty retreat from the ring.
Shuichi turned to the shell-shocked staff member. "Please, continue with the ceremony."
The man snapped out of his daze and nodded frantically. "...Yes! Right away!"
The Championship Carnival boxing ceremony finally resumed. When the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers—"Tonight's Champion: Matsuda Jotaro!"—the hall exploded once more into thunderous applause.
Jotaro stood on the podium, his breath hitching as the staff buckled the gold belt—the object of his lifelong dreams—around his waist.
Below the ring, Jinpei was jumping for joy, his small palms turning red from clapping so hard. The Hagiwara siblings were cheering beside him; Chihaya even had a glint of tears in the corners of her eyes.
Standing atop the ring, Matsuda Jotaro looked out at the faces cheering for him. Years of hardship, sweat, and physical pain seemed to melt away into a profound, wordless emotion. He tilted his head back, not wanting anyone to see his eyes grow damp, but the slight tremble of his lips gave away the overwhelming joy in his heart.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 70 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
[patreon.com/TripleCrown07]
Thank you so much for your support!!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"