Suddenly, Ryuji found himself kneeling in the dojo, confused about the fact that he had been in his room a moment before, but that sense vanished after a few moments.
'Strange...'
He watched his mother, who seemed much younger than in the past, perform her usual routine. Her perfect and masterful form, with not a single step out of place, was enchanting to watch.
"Ryuji, why are you just watching?"
"Huh?"
"Come, let's spar!"
His mother turned to face him, a wicked grin on her lips, and beckoned him with her hand. Though Ryuji felt something strange, something itching in the back of his mind—like an insect biting him constantly—he stood up and bowed.
"Wow... you've grown so tall, my handsome son."
'Huh?'
Ryuji's mind flickered, another sense of incompatibility because he was always smaller than his mother even after she... 'After she what?'
"What are you waiting for?"
