"Dad!" I shoved my phone on his face, forcing him to look at the screen. "Goku's Ultra Instinct!"
"Let me see that," he said.
My shoes squeaked on the tiled floor as I spun and kicked, imitating Goku's fighting moves. I imagined that dad's red backpack was Jiren, Goku's opponent. Two punches and it fell to the floor. Hah! I reared back for a victory pose.
Other people in the waiting area stared at me, shaking their heads, not happy. They looked at me like my grade three teacher would if I was late for class. My cheeks flushed and quickly returned to my seat next to dad. His eyes were still glued to the screen.
"His hairstyle didn't change," he said.
"Cool, right? That's his strongest transformation yet."
"Ultra Instinct, huh?" He returned the phone and ruffled my hair. "I felt the same way when Goku went Super Saiyan for the first time."
"But the animation in Super is much better than Z," I said.
"You kids are lucky you can watch that scene over and over, as many times as you want. When I was young, I had to wait for the replay on TV."
Ding! Ding! Ding!
A female voice erupted from the ceiling. "The flight bound to Nagoya, Japan is slightly delayed. We apologize for the incovenience."
People in the waiting area started talking loudly. Some complained, others cursed. Dad looked worried.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Our flight is delayed," he said.
"What does that mean?"
Dad showed me the schedule of events on his phone. The funeral ceremony for the great Akira Toriyama was to be held before sunset. After that, there would be a light show featuring his famous works—the only reason I agreed to go with dad to Japan.
"If we don't board the plane very soon," dad said, "We might miss the funeral."
"What about the light show?"
"I guess we have to wait and see."
