Raiyokan and the Fibonacci Sequence

Chapter 2: Existential Questions and Skepticism

That was why I channeled my life into something useful without exposing myself. After the event at the church, my interest in volunteer activities grew—I wanted to help people in adverse situations, like that young man. I couldn't explain it well, but somehow this involvement also served as an outlet, helping me forget the difficulties I was having in evoking my Raiyokan powers.

In the new neuroanatomy class, still in the fourth week of the semester, many faces were unknown to me, but I was already beginning to get familiar with some of them. During the break, I decided to sit on a staircase and make a call to an NGO, seeking a volunteer activity to occupy my mind.

During the call, the secretary informed me there were no vacancies available. Disappointed, I hung up the phone and let out a deep sigh. Then, to my surprise, a classmate a few steps above me came down and sat beside me.

— I couldn't help but notice you're interested in doing volunteer work. — My classmate said with a smile.

— Yes. I want to do something that complements my academic life. — I replied, also smiling at her.

— That's great! I think your name is Diego?

— Yes, and you must be Mariana.

— That's right, I also really enjoy volunteer work. It's just that we don't have much free time, right?

— True.

She shared social projects she was involved in through her church. I noticed she was aware that something else was bothering me; perhaps that deep sigh gave me away. I believe that's why she started a conversation with me, managing to make me put aside the discomfort I was feeling.

Over time, Mariana ceased to be just a classmate; she became a potential friend. Mutual curiosity led us to share lunches at the university canteen after classes—a place where conversations flowed as naturally as casual encounters.

In one of our conversations, Mariana addressed a remarkable aspect of my personality. She expressed appreciation for my introversion, noting that despite my discretion, I demonstrated a sharp understanding of the material taught in class.

— I noticed you did well on the first test. You don't seem to have such mastery, but that's because of your discretion.

— Yes, I'm more reserved. — I agreed and then added: — However, I usually study the material at home, which explains my consistent performance on exams.

After our dialogue, I began to reflect on my introversion, a trait whose origin I understood well: it was the difficulty of maintaining my dual identity. I noticed that my introversion served as an unconscious safeguard to preserve this uniqueness. Intriguingly, I had already been a reserved person even before experiencing these dreams and discovering my origins as Kenzo; this may seem contradictory, but my unconscious was already preparing me to face this new reality even before it manifested. Choosing not to expose myself helped protect this secret.

However, a curious fact was that even without sharing my nature as a reincarnated Raiyokan warrior, I didn't feel the need to hide anything from Mariana. It seemed that she, somehow, already knew me beyond superficialities. This feeling of comfort and strange familiarity increased my confusion but, at the same time, strengthened the bond that was beginning to form between us.

I invited her to explore the São Francisco de Assis church in the enchanting Pampulha. The invitation, laden with a mix of excitement and expectation, met Mariana's curious eyes, and she accepted without hesitation.

When we met by the pond near the church, we soon began to talk.

— You must have come here many times? — I asked, trying to start a conversation.