Raiyokan and the Fibonacci Sequence

Chapter 10: Psychobiology of Discord

— I refuse to accept the idea that the environment is an excuse for impunity.

The academic space, once serene, transformed into a battlefield of ideas. Matters grew more complicated when Mariana, to my surprise, sided with the professor, positioning herself against my view. The silence we had preserved between us—our way of avoiding each other—crumbled under the force of disagreement.

What should have been an exchange of ideas turned into a debate. The once peaceful stage became the center of conflict between Mariana and me, and we began referencing Peter, as if the room had witnessed the confrontation we had both endured.

— You don't understand. Peter isn't just a victim of circumstance. He chose to be cruel — my voice trembled with emotion. — I've seen this kind of behavior before.

— But you can't just ignore the context — Mariana countered, her voice firm with conviction. — Judging someone's actions without fully understanding what led them there is unfair.

— And justifying someone's actions simply because they had a hard life is dangerous.

— I'm not saying he's right, but maybe there's more to this than we realize — argued Mariana, her tone unwavering.

Though the classroom became a microcosm of debate, there was an invisible line we both avoided crossing: revealing the truth about the superhuman events.

The air was thick with discomfort, a cloud hanging over our classmates who, unaware of Peter's identity, could still sense the weight of something serious. The mystery surrounding Mariana, Peter, and me spread unease through the room, tension seeping into the walls themselves.

Sensing the heavy atmosphere we had created, Mariana and I lowered our voices. A silence loaded with resentment and unease settled over the class, revealing a tense undercurrent in the minds of all present. The lecture played out like a performance, leaving in its wake the sense that something profound had transpired.

When the class ended, I felt that something deeper than words had been broken between Mariana and me. The relationship we had shared now felt torn, and the distance between us could be measured not only in meters but in our disagreements.

As I made my way back to my apartment, the city blurred into an indistinct haze. Loneliness claimed me. I mentally revisited my first encounter with the boy at Niemeyer's construction site—now revealed as Peter. The rift with Mariana was an open wound, fed by the stubborn pride that kept me from reaching out for reconciliation.

In the quiet of my thoughts, I searched for inspiration in the serenity Mariana had sown within me during our relationship. I decided to return to the starting point of this journey, recalling the day I first crossed paths with Peter.

In that moment of introspection, I resolved to swallow my pride. A carefully written letter became the vessel to explain my origins to Mariana, seeking redemption for the turmoil that had separated us during the neuroanatomy class.

The letter read:

Dear Mariana,

I hope this letter reaches you at the right moment, when the words can connect with our feelings and create a deeper understanding. I feel the need to share with you the origins of my life—a story painted with supernatural shades and emotions that surpass any extraordinary power.

I understand that you've recently faced startling revelations about my nature, uncovering worlds that had remained hidden until now. Even amidst these secrets, I felt a closeness and transparency with you, as if I had been hiding nothing at all. That has always been a mystery to me.

Before addressing the conflict involving Peter, which caused friction between us, I feel compelled to tell you about my origins as Kenzo. This was a chapter I knew would come, though I had hoped it wouldn't arrive in the midst of discord between us.

In another life, I was part of a lineage of warriors known as the Raiyokans, reincarnated here as Diego. At first, I believed I was an ordinary human—until dreams of another world began to haunt me. I do not possess all the memories of that life as Kenzo, but I returned to the Nexus universe with the mission of defeating a class of warriors known as the Thunders.

This mysterious clan emerged in a time of chaos born from our world's neglect of social inequality. Their origins remain obscure, and their arrival coincided with upheaval across our planet. Only when I recovered my memories as Kenzo was I able to eliminate the last Thunder threat, restoring balance to the Nexus.

Now that you know a small piece of my history, I can speak about Peter. My initial anger at his actions has given way to perplexity. I met him in the same church we visited in Pampulha. I would prefer to discuss what happened in person, but this young man did not seem inherently malevolent, and I still do not fully understand what is happening. I only know our lives are linked, even if I cannot yet explain why.

I apologize for the harsh words during our argument. I deeply wish to mend our relationship, for I believe that together we can make sense of what is unfolding. Please write back—tell me if we can move forward together.

Sincerely,
Diego