Raiyokan and the Fibonacci Sequence

Chapter 8: Training for the Kung Fu Tournament

The next morning, already enveloped by the vibrant atmosphere of my apartment, I woke up at 6 a.m., filled with an Olympic energy fueled mostly by the moments I had shared with Mariana the night before. The sun flooded my room through the large glass window. I was in an infectious enthusiasm, driven by the two intense hours of training I would have at the academy of the venerable Master Nakamura.

After the workout, I would take a shower before heading to the university campus, located near my apartment in Pampulha. The day began with the promise of new academic knowledge and the flame of kung fu — a fusion that fueled my journey. Yet, even immersed in this spirit, a tinge of melancholy slipped in. The reason was the molecular biology class, a subject that fascinated me, but did not offer the encounter with Mariana.

Continuing my morning journey, I made my way to the Nakamura Academy, determined to devote myself entirely to training. The voice of that night's summons guided my mind. Every step, every movement in the academy became a preparation for the challenge ahead.

Training had become an act of balance between honing my kung fu skills as Diego and, at the same time, controlling the supernatural impulses of the warrior Kenzo. Each stance I took was filled with tension.

As I entered the academy, I was greeted by my master. His eyes seemed to understand the challenges my path presented. Without speaking a word, his expression carried the wisdom of Buddhism, as if spiritual winds had revealed to him the turbulence inhabiting my soul.

With a solemn gesture, Nakamura indicated that training would not be mere physical movements; it was an inner quest, a spiritual journey to find the balance I needed. His words of encouragement were like brushstrokes, fostering positive thoughts that should inhabit my mind even in the midst of the storm.

The master's spiritual sensitivity guided him in martial arts and also served as a way to address my skepticism. Living in such spiritual environments made me feel spiritual as well.

After dedicating barely thirty minutes to training with the muk yan jong, the wooden challenge dummy, my master interrupted the session. His eyes told me something different was about to unfold, and a sense of anticipation arose.

— A new challenge awaits you, Diego — said Master Nakamura, his serene voice brimming with meaning. — Prepare yourself to face an opponent who has mastered martial arts since childhood.

I swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of the challenge. — I'm ready, Master Nakamura. I'll give it my best — I replied, trying to convey confidence, though the nervousness seeped into my voice.

Nakamura nodded, as if he understood my conflicting emotions. — Remember, the true challenge lies within you. Find the balance between mind and body, and you will triumph — he instructed, with wisdom that went beyond the limits of kung fu.

I took a deep breath, trying to absorb the master's words. This would be more than a simple physical contest; it was a battle of self-discovery.

Nakamura announced the arrival of my opponent — a kung fu master whose skill exceeded my own. The news, far from discouraging me, was a challenge that stirred my emotions. I, a mere student with only one year of training, would now face someone who had grown up in the martial arts since childhood.

The anxiety intensified with the news of her arrival. Worry mingled with the thrill of the challenge. In the martial arts world, a woman skilled in kung fu was not only a formidable opponent but often surpassed others in agility and precision.

And then, she arrived.

Emotion rose as I saw the figure approaching — a spectacular warrior, with curly hair and caramel eyes that caught the light. My heart raced. It was Mariana, the opponent I was destined to face at that moment. Right then, I realized her father hadn't lied to comfort me — all those champion medals I had seen in their living room actually belonged to her.