Renzo leaned back against the old tree trunk, arms folded behind his head. The forest smelled of pine and damp soil after the morning rain, and somewhere above him, a bird trilled. His body ached from training with Jack earlier, but he found the soreness oddly comforting. It was proof that he was moving forward.
"Renzo!"
He opened one eye. Gon burst through the undergrowth with the same boundless energy he carried everywhere, leaves stuck in his hair and a wide grin plastered on his face.
"You were sleeping?" Gon asked, crouching beside him.
"Resting," Renzo corrected. He shifted to sit upright. "Jack made me hold Zetsu for an hour straight. I almost passed out."
"Zetsu," Gon repeated, tilting his head. He did not understand the word, but he did not press. Instead he grinned wider. "Then you need something fun. Come with me."
Renzo raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
"To my house. Aunt Mito made a big meal, and she says guests are always welcome."
Renzo hesitated. He was not used to invitations like this. His adoptive father was kind, yes, but Jack's training left little room for social warmth. Still, Gon's sincerity was hard to refuse.
"Alright," Renzo said, brushing dirt from his pants. "Lead the way."
The walk down the forest path was lively. Gon darted ahead, pointing out fox tracks and broken branches where animals had passed. Renzo followed more slowly, his hands in his pockets, watching Gon's excitement with quiet amusement.
Soon, the forest opened into a clearing with a modest wooden house at its center. Smoke rose from the chimney, carrying the smell of fresh stew. Gon bounded to the door and threw it open.
"Aunt Mito! I brought someone!"
Renzo paused at the threshold, suddenly aware of how out of place he must look. But then a woman appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face was gentle, her hair tied back, her eyes bright with the kind of patience only years of raising a child could give.
"This must be your friend," she said warmly. "Come in."
Renzo bowed slightly. "Thank you for having me."
Inside, the house was cozy. Wooden beams overhead, shelves lined with jars of dried herbs, a kettle whistling on the stove. Renzo felt a pang of nostalgia. It reminded him faintly of the dojo from his past life, though smaller, homier.
Mito ladled stew into bowls and set them on the table. Gon dug in without hesitation, waving at Renzo to join him.
"Eat," Mito urged. "You look like you need it."
Renzo sat and took a spoonful. The stew was rich, warm, filled with tender vegetables and meat that melted in his mouth. His stomach growled before he could stop it. Gon laughed.
"See? I told you it was good."
Renzo smirked faintly. "You were right."
As they ate, Gon chattered endlessly about fishing, the foxbear he had befriended, and the small adventures he had around the island. Renzo listened, nodding occasionally, speaking only when necessary. Still, he found himself enjoying the rhythm of Gon's voice.
When the bowls were empty, Mito cleared the table and set down tea. She studied Renzo for a moment.
"You train with the old man in the forest, don't you?" she asked gently.
Renzo blinked. "You know about that?"
"Everyone on Whale Island notices," Mito replied. "But you carry yourself differently. Disciplined. Careful. That tells me he is teaching you more than just fighting."
Renzo lowered his gaze. "He is teaching me how to understand myself."
Mito smiled at that. "Then you are in good hands."
Gon stretched his arms and leaned back. "Renzo, let's go fishing tomorrow! I'll show you the best spots near the rocks."
Renzo smirked. "I am terrible at fishing."
"That just means you need a teacher," Gon said confidently.
Renzo shook his head, but a small laugh escaped him. He had not laughed like that in a long time.
The evening sun dipped lower, casting warm light across the room. For a moment, Renzo felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest. Not the fire of training, not the discipline Jack drilled into him, but something softer.
Belonging.