The early morning mist clung to Yorknew City, dampening the streets and wrapping the alleys in a gray haze. Renzo crouched behind a stack of crates near the docks, blanket pressed to his shoulders. The smell of salt and fish mixed with the faint stench of smoke from nearby chimneys. He could feel the city waking, each footstep, cart wheel, and stray shout forming a rhythm he was slowly learning to read.
I can sense the flow, I thought. Not just patterns of movement, but the weight of intent, hesitation, tension. There is something beneath it all. Something I am only beginning to touch.
Luca waited a few steps away, leaning against a lamp post. "You really want to do this alone?" he asked. "The docks are crawling with petty thugs, and some Hunters might pass by. You don't want to get in over your head."
Renzo's lips pressed into a thin line. "I have to," he replied. "Observation is not enough. I need to feel it, test my focus, see if I can sense what they do before they do it."
Luca shook his head but said nothing. He had learned that Renzo rarely acted recklessly. There was always method, even if the method was invisible to others.
The first test appeared sooner than expected. A pair of street children argued over a lost purse, shoving and pulling, voices sharp and anxious. Renzo crouched low, calculating.
I can try. I can push a little. But I have to remember. Ten. Zetsu. Control. Observation first.
He focused on his breathing, letting his awareness expand outward. His senses tuned into the subtle vibrations of their movements, the timing of gestures, the rhythm of their breathing. He was not using Hatsu. He could not. What he felt was aura potential, a faint awareness of energy around himself, like a pulse at the edge of perception.
He shifted slightly, creating a faint distraction—a loose bottle rolling over a stone. The children froze, startled. That split second was all he needed. Renzo darted, retrieved the purse, and rolled it toward the smaller child, who grabbed it and ran. The older boy glared but hesitated, unsure if this was trick or skill.
"You're fast," Luca whispered. "But it's small change compared to real threats."
"I know," Renzo replied. His chest rose and fell faster than usual, not from fear, but from anticipation. Observation alone was useful. Acting on that observation, even minimally, felt like the first step toward something greater.
By mid-morning, the docks were buzzing. Carts rattled, merchants shouted, and children ran between shadows. Renzo perched on a low wall, watching a small gang exchange coins and small goods with a merchant. Timing, hesitation, stance. Every move told a story.
I can read it. I am not touching it. Not yet. Just feel it.
A small flicker of understanding pulsed through him. If he concentrated, he could feel the tension in their bodies, the flow of intent, and the slight pressure in the air around them. He could not control it, only sense it. But that sensation was enough to make decisions faster, to anticipate actions before they occurred.
They passed a small alleyway and froze. Three Black Talons gang members blocked the path, laughing as they collected small fees from passersby. Renzo crouched low, heart steady.
"This is bigger than before," Luca muttered. "Do you really want to risk it?"
"I do," Renzo whispered. "I need to test control, just a little. No mistakes."
He focused on Ten first, feeling his aura expand lightly around his body, coating him like a shield. He practiced Zetsu next, retracting awareness and blending into the air, hiding himself from casual notice. His muscles tensed and released as he shifted, learning how to carry focus without moving.
The gang eyed them for a moment, suspicious but unconcerned. Renzo did not move, only let the aura flow subtly. His presence did not vanish, but he became less of a target. He tried to sense the pressure in the air, the way the gang's intent shifted with each step, each hand gesture.
I am sensing it. Not controlling. Not yet. But I can feel the pulse.
The day continued with minor experiments. Renzo practiced shifting his presence, observing reactions, predicting movements. A cart tipped over, and a child stumbled. Renzo calculated his movement, adjusting slightly, creating a tiny visual distraction. The child recovered. No one noticed the intervention, but the effect was real. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, yet it carried the lesson: Nen was not only power. It was control. Timing. Balance.
"Small victories count," Luca said, nodding. "But you have to remember: this is just the beginning. You do not even have Hatsu yet. None of this is dangerous in Nen terms. But in Yorknew, a small mistake is enough."
Renzo nodded, swallowing hard. He felt the weight of what he was learning. This city was not kind, and the smallest miscalculation could mean losing more than coins or pride.
As evening fell, the fog rolled in from the harbor, thick and chilling. Renzo crouched behind a crate, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Merchants had closed their stalls. Shadows deepened in alleys. The city breathed, alive with whispers of power and intent.
A scuffle broke out nearby. Two street children grappled for a coin bag, shouting. Renzo considered intervening. He focused on Ten, feeling the aura pulse lightly around him, steady but contained. Zetsu followed, withdrawing his presence, blending subtly into the alley. Renzo did not move a muscle yet. He observed.
The children's hesitation grew under his subtle influence, just a flicker of awareness on their part. Not control, not real Hatsu, only an instinctive understanding of presence. He stepped forward carefully, retrieving the bag and tossing it to the child who had been less aggressive. The child blinked, surprised, then bolted. The others muttered in frustration but did not pursue.
Night fully descended, and the city pulsed with life. Lanterns shimmered through the fog, casting long, uncertain shadows. Somewhere in the distance, a faint shout echoed. The hum of the streets became a rhythm Renzo could feel in his chest.
He crouched near the docks, coins and scraps of paper from the day resting beside him. Muscles ached. Stomach growled. But his mind was alive. He had felt the first spark of what might become Nen. Not control. Not Hatsu. Not even mastery. But a spark.
I can sense it. The flow is there. The potential is mine.
Renzo closed his eyes, listening to the city, feeling its pulse, watching the subtle shifts in rhythm around him. Somewhere in the alleys, deals were made, threats whispered, and movements calculated. Yorknew City was alive, and he had begun to feel it in a way no ordinary child could.
Tomorrow would bring more. A test of patience, control, and instinct. And Renzo would be ready to meet it, step by step, spark by spark.