The city had a rhythm of its own, and I had begun to feel it pulse beneath my skin. Yorknew City moved, breathed, and whispered secrets if one knew how to listen. From the edge of the docks, I could hear the clatter of carts, the slap of leather shoes on cobblestones, and the faint hiss of voices from narrow alleys.
Renzo crouched behind a broken crate, eyes scanning the bustling street. The morning mist lingered, curling around barrels and sacks of goods. His blanket hung loosely around his shoulders, though he barely noticed the chill. Every sound, every motion was a piece of a puzzle he was slowly learning to read.
I can feel the flow. It is like a river that bends and swirls, carrying intentions, hesitation, and opportunity. I just have to follow it without getting swept away.
Luca leaned against a lamppost nearby, scratching his head. "You've been crouched there for twenty minutes," he said. "Are you actually seeing anything, or are you just staring at the fog?"
Renzo didn't answer immediately. His gaze tracked a merchant struggling to push a heavy cart past two children playing in the street. A small man with a sharp expression jostled the merchant, claiming the cart blocked his path. Renzo's eyes flicked between the three, measuring stance, timing, and spacing.
"See that?" he asked quietly. "The small man isn't just being rude. He's testing boundaries. Watch how the children respond, and the merchant will adjust without thinking. Patterns repeat themselves, even when people think they are random."
Luca frowned. "You make it sound like a game."
"Everything is a game if you watch closely enough," Renzo said, a faint smile on his lips.
The first test came with a clatter of coins falling from a merchant's pouch. Two children lunged for them, scuffling and shouting. Renzo's pulse quickened.
Not yet, I reminded myself. Ten first. Feel the aura around me. Don't act until I know what will happen.
He expanded his aura lightly, letting it coat him like a thin, invisible shield. He practiced Zetsu simultaneously, withdrawing his presence, blending with the mist and shadows. The children froze for a fraction of a second, eyes darting to each other. Renzo didn't move. He simply observed.
When one child hesitated too long, Renzo nudged a small pebble toward the other, creating a tiny distraction. That was enough. The child grabbed the coins and darted away, leaving the first staring at the empty ground.
"Nice timing," Luca whispered. "But it's still instinct. You're not using Nen."
Renzo nodded. "I know. I'm feeling the edges. Just feeling the flow of what could be."
By mid-morning, the docks were alive with activity. Cart drivers shouted their prices. Children darted between stalls, laughing and shouting. Hunters moved silently through the streets, barely noticed by anyone. Renzo perched on a low wall, scanning alleyways and side streets.
I can sense it. Not just movement, but intention. Not just sounds, but choices. Every person leaves a trace, and the city leaves traces too.
A small gang, no more than three boys, argued over a bundle of stolen goods. Their movements were coordinated enough to suggest training but sloppy enough to reveal weakness. Renzo crouched lower, letting Zetsu pull his presence back slightly. He could feel the tension in their bodies, the rhythm of their interactions.
He considered testing Ren briefly, not to harm, but to measure their reactions. A slight flick of his hand sent a small stone rolling across the alley. One of the gang members glanced toward the sound, frowning. That hesitation was enough. Renzo moved forward, snatched a small coin from the edge of the pile, and melted back into the shadows.
"They won't notice," he said quietly. "They're focused on themselves, not the small things. That's the gap I can exploit."
Later, he wandered closer to the market's center. The smells of cooked meat and bread mixed with the damp air from the docks. Merchants shouted for attention, waving coins in front of buyers. Renzo noted the rhythm of their pitches, the pauses, the predictable gestures.
"This city teaches faster than any book," he muttered. "You have to watch, adapt, and act before it even occurs to the other person."
A sudden shout drew his attention. A pickpocket had been caught red-handed by a merchant, and a crowd began to gather. Renzo observed from a distance. Ten, Zetsu, Ren. The fundamentals. Not Hatsu yet. I can sense intent, but I cannot control it.
He noticed the pickpocket's partner slipping through the crowd, trying to retrieve the stolen item. Renzo focused on the flow, anticipating the movement, shifting his balance slightly, ready to react. When the partner reached out for the coin, Renzo stepped forward just enough to block the path without being seen, nudging the coin back toward the merchant's hand.
The crowd murmured but did not notice who had intervened. Renzo pulled back, exhaling slowly.
"Control comes before power," he whispered. "Observation before action. Timing before force."
By afternoon, Renzo and Luca found a quieter alley to rest. Renzo's muscles ached from crouching and moving silently. Coins and scraps of paper were tucked into his coat, evidence of small victories and lessons learned.
"Your instincts are getting sharper," Luca said. "But you're still a kid out here. One wrong step, and it isn't just a lesson. It could be the end."
Renzo stared at the ground, tracing the faint outline of a shadow that passed by. "I know," he said. "But I need to push. I need to understand the flow, the patterns, the gaps that others cannot see. That is the only way to survive… and grow."
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the sounds and rhythms of Yorknew City fill him. The creak of the docks, the shuffle of feet on cobblestones, the distant shouting of merchants, even the faint whispers from shadowed alleyways. Each sound, each movement, each hesitation carried meaning.
Night descended fully. Lanterns flickered along the docks, casting long, wavering shadows. Mist rolled in, thickening the streets. Renzo crouched on a crate, blanket wrapped tightly, coins and papers beside him. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but his mind felt alert and alive.
He focused on the faintest pulses of aura, feeling the edges of potential. Not control. Not Hatsu. Just the spark that could grow into something greater with patience, observation, and training.
I can sense it, he thought. The potential is here. I am here. Tomorrow will bring another test, another chance to understand, another opportunity to survive and grow.
The city breathed around him, alive with motion and intent, and Renzo felt, for the first time, that he was learning to move with it rather than against it.