Raiyokan and the Fibonacci Sequence

Chapter 8: Training for the Kung Fu Tournament

— Mariana! — my voice rang out, a mix of surprise and admiration, as she came closer, her determined gaze radiating confidence.

She smiled back, with a spark in her eyes that hinted at excitement. — Diego, it seems our destinies were meant to cross here — she said, her voice carrying a subtle touch of mystery.

— You never stop surprising me, Mariana. But I never imagined you also practiced kung fu. Looks like we have more in common than I thought — I replied, trying to hide my surprise and fascination.

Perplexity took hold of me, as if fate had scripted an unexpected twist for us. Mariana, leaving the calm of the Mangabeiras neighborhood for Pampulha, had a clear purpose — to face me in a martial arts duel. Even knowing about my connection to Master Nakamura's academy, she surprised me by stepping into this training ground where I never expected to find her.

I realized she hadn't told me before because she had planned this as a surprise. She waited for the right moment — and I could say she succeeded. What intrigued me, challenging my skepticism, was how our meeting felt predestined by a force beyond my comprehension.

Her interest in me had sparked after my call seeking volunteer work. At that exact moment, she had been sitting a few steps up the stairs. Now I discovered that she also practiced kung fu. It was as intriguing as my reincarnation itself.

We stepped into the ring, where silence fell, ready for the clash. The bell rang, marking the start of the fight.

Watching her stance, I quickly noticed she had taken the characteristic position of Wing Chun, a style of kung fu I also practiced.

This fighting style, developed by an extraordinary woman named Wing Chun in China, stood out for its unique origin. The art itself reflected the brilliance of its creator. As we moved in the ring, I recalled my master's words about the fascinating history of this warrior nun.

Initially trained in traditional kung fu, she soon realized the disadvantages of facing male opponents. Traditional kung fu, with its emphasis on physical strength, was not suited for a woman confronting stronger adversaries. Thus, Wing Chun developed her own style — refined techniques built for efficiency, transcending the limits of conventional methods.

Following this logic, it quickly became clear in our match that my superior physical strength gave me no advantage over Mariana. Every move I made seemed predictable to her, as if she anticipated each strike before I even began it. With mastery, she positioned herself strategically, neutralizing my attacks and countering with precise, measured strikes.

— You're doing well, Diego, but you still have much to learn — she remarked, her serene voice contrasting with the intensity of the fight. — Your moves are powerful, but true mastery lies in subtlety and precision.

I was facing not only a skilled opponent but someone who seemed to read my thoughts in the ring, turning each movement into a synchronized dance of action and reaction. The fight unfolded like choreography, where her finesse eclipsed my raw strength.

In a moment of exhaustion, I finally landed a hit. However, her counterattack came with great force. The impact nearly knocked me out, but summoning my inner strength, I unleashed a flurry of sun punches.

Mariana responded with equal ferocity and, although I was at a lower level than her, I was lucky enough to strike back. Our attacks collided, resulting in a simultaneous knockout. It was the moment when the strength of two warriors clashed in an explosion of energy, leaving us both momentarily unconscious in the ring.

Surprisingly, the fight — which demanded ferocity and even rage — paradoxically intensified my passion for her. The violence of the combat only deepened our bond.

The knockout, far from ending the contest, became a gateway to a new state of consciousness, leading us to a unique and unexpected experience.

This experience went beyond the usual visions I had in states of sleep or unconsciousness. This time, Mariana was sharing the vision with me — and unlike before, she was aware this was no simple dream. It was a supernatural journey where she immersed herself, discovering more about my origins and the universe we were connected to.

— Diego, where are we? — asked Mariana, trying to grasp what was happening.

— This is the universe of my past life. I promise I'll explain it to you properly later

— I replied, searching for the right words to calm her inquisitive mind.

— I always felt there was something different about you — Mariana remarked, confusion etched on her face.

As we were transported to the universe of the Raiyokans, we faced a startling twist: the boy from the community emerged before us, endowed with powers that exceeded my own. His eyes burned with a purpose, and his threatening words alternated between calling me Kenzo and Diego.

Faced with the threat, my only response was to transform into the Raiyokan. The vision might have been a glimpse into another dimension, but I instinctively felt the ramifications of this confrontation went beyond the limits of the Raiyokans. It was a battle tied to my existence on Earth, though the reasons remained unclear.

A troubling certainty took hold of me: if my consciousness were defeated in that universe, my existence on Earth would vanish as well. The mystery surrounding the connection between these two worlds was about to unfold.

Mariana, her eyes reflecting disbelief at what she was witnessing, whispered words she barely understood. She revealed that our lives were bound together, though even she didn't fully grasp the nature of this bond. There was urgency in her tone as she warned me of the need to defend myself, emphasizing that this adversary's power surpassed mine.

Her words brought back memories of theunparalleled battle on Avenida Afonso Pena, where I had confronted this boy andrealized, with painful clarity, that my chances against him were slim. In mymemory, his face remained as hard as steel.