The early morning fog clung to Yorknew City like a damp blanket. Renzo crouched behind a stack of wooden crates at the edge of a busy market street. He could feel the pulse of the city under his skin, each step, each shout, each laugh vibrating through the cobblestones. The air smelled of smoke, fish, and the faint tang of iron from the docks.
I can see the rhythm, I thought. Every movement matters. Every glance can tell a story if I pay attention.
Beside him, Luca leaned casually against a lamp post, scanning the crowd with sharp eyes. "You always look so serious," he said. "Relax a little. You do not have to read the city like a book just yet."
Renzo shook his head, eyes fixed on the crowd below. "I cannot relax," he said quietly. "Not here. Not now. This city does not forgive mistakes, and I need to understand it."
Luca let out a soft laugh, but he did not argue. He knew better than to interrupt Renzo when he went into focus mode.
A commotion caught Renzo's attention. Two children were struggling over a small coin purse. The taller one shoved the smaller one to the ground. Renzo's heart beat faster. This was not a moment for heroics, not yet.
I cannot interfere directly, I reminded myself. Observation first. Ten. Zetsu. Ren.
He focused on his aura, feeling the light pulse around him. His presence became quieter, blending into the background. The tension between the children was almost tangible. A subtle twitch in the smaller boy's shoulder, a glance to the side from the taller one, a quick inhale of frustration. All of it spoke volumes.
Renzo leaned forward just slightly and flicked a small stone with his fingers. It clattered across the ground, drawing the taller boy's attention for just a second. That moment was enough. The smaller boy scrambled to his feet, snatched the purse, and ran. The taller one shouted but did not give chase.
"Nicely done," Luca whispered, his eyes flicking toward the market stalls. "You are learning how to move without being noticed."
Renzo exhaled slowly. "Learning is one thing. Using it safely is another."
Hours passed with Renzo testing himself in subtle ways. He shifted his aura lightly to feel its edges, tried to move without drawing attention, and observed the ebb and flow of life around him. Each small interaction became a lesson.
A fishmonger dropped a basket of herring, and Renzo noted how the crowd reacted before they even realized what had happened. A merchant tripped over a loose cobblestone, and he could almost feel the tension in her muscles as she corrected her balance. Every tiny detail mattered.
By midday, the market had thickened with people, and Renzo crouched on a low wall above the docks. The boats creaked, ropes shifted, and merchants barked orders to dockhands. His eyes moved rapidly, cataloging patterns, timing the workers' gestures, sensing the rhythm of the day.
I can feel it, he thought. I am not strong. I cannot fight. But I can see, I can predict, I can survive.
Luca's voice broke through his concentration. "You are staring too long. The docks are dangerous for someone like you. They do not forgive hesitation."
Renzo glanced at him, lips tight. "I know. I just need to test myself. Only observation is not enough. I need to feel it, even a little."
A group of Black Talons gang members pushed their way through the crowd. Renzo froze, muscles coiled. Ten, Zetsu, Ren. Breathe. Observe.
The leader barked orders, and Renzo's instincts flared. He did not move toward them. He did not even plan to. He only focused on the flow of their movements, the weight of their steps, the subtle tensions in their shoulders and necks. Each detail formed a map he could read.
A small rope dangling from a nearby crate caught his eye. He shifted slightly, letting it brush against a post. The clatter made the gang members glance down. In that fraction of a second, Renzo adjusted his position, sliding unseen along the edge of the alley.
"Small advantage," he muttered to himself. "Enough to survive."
Evening arrived, painting the city in amber and shadow. Lanterns flickered to life along the streets, casting strange shapes across walls and puddles. Renzo crouched behind crates near the harbor, blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He pulled out a small piece of paper and jotted down observations, patterns, timings, and behaviors he had noted throughout the day.
Luca crouched beside him, tossing a small pebble into the water. "Tomorrow, we push a little further," he said. "You need to see what happens when someone notices you. When your aura is tested."
Renzo nodded, looking out at the dark water. He could feel the city's pulse through his fingers, through his legs, through every inch of him. Yorknew was alive, and he had only begun to touch it.
I can sense the edges. I can feel the flow. One day, I will move without being noticed. One day, I will act, and the city will not know what hit it.
For now, though, it was enough to survive. To observe. To learn.