A stroll in the night

The faint glow of the oil lamp flickered in the room, casting shadows that danced along the walls. Makoto sat cross-legged in the center, his expression calm but focused. Before delving into his cultivation, he raised his hand, his fingers weaving a series of intricate patterns in the air. Threads of qi flowed from his fingertips, intertwining to form a barrier that shimmered faintly before becoming invisible.

"That should do it," he murmured, his voice low.

The barrier wasn't just for protection; it was a precaution. After all, the promotion exams were filled with hidden dangers, and the last thing he needed was an unexpected intruder or a prying eye.

Satisfied, Makoto closed his eyes and allowed his consciousness to sink inward. His breathing slowed, becoming rhythmic, as he guided his qi through his meridians. Tonight, he was determined to form his core, a crucial step in his cultivation journey.

The qi within him swirled, gathering at his dantian. It was a delicate process, requiring balance and control. He visualized the core-a perfect sphere of energy, radiant and solid. Slowly, the energy began to condense, taking shape.

But just as he neared success, a sudden resistance arose. The qi trembled, destabilizing the entire process. Makoto's eyes snapped open as the energy dispersed violently, sending a shockwave through his body.

He coughed sharply, a streak of blood appearing at the corner of his lips.

"Damn it," he muttered, wiping the blood away.

The failure wasn't new. It was his third attempt since the start of the exams, and each time, the result was the same. He could feel the pieces coming together, but something crucial was missing-a spark of enlightenment, an insight that would bring everything into harmony.

Makoto leaned back against the wall, his gaze fixed on the faint glow of the oil lamp. The barrier shimmered briefly in response to his agitation before stabilizing again.

"What am I missing?" he wondered aloud, frustration creeping into his usually calm demeanor.

The room felt stifling, the air heavy with his own disappointment. Rising to his feet, Makoto extinguished the lamp and stepped toward the window. Moonlight streamed in, bathing the room in a cool, silver glow.

Perhaps what he needed wasn't another attempt, but a moment of clarity.

With a flick of his hand, he dissipated the barrier. The faint hum of energy vanished as he opened the door and stepped out into the night.

---

The city was quiet, its usual bustle replaced by a serene stillness. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, casting warm pools of light on the cobblestone streets. Makoto wandered aimlessly, his steps silent as his mind churned.

His path eventually led him to a secluded garden on the outskirts of the city. A small pond sat at its center, its surface reflecting the stars above. Makoto approached the water's edge and sat on a smooth stone, his cloak draped around him like a shadow.

The cool night air and the gentle rustling of leaves offered a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts in his mind. He closed his eyes, letting the stillness wash over him.

"What am I missing?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

The answer eluded him, as it had so many times before. He thought of his past life, where breakthroughs came naturally, as if the heavens themselves paved the way for his progress. But now, in this new life, everything felt...different.

Makoto's thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of footsteps. He opened his eyes, his senses sharpening instantly.

"Can't sleep?"

The voice was soft, familiar. Makoto turned to see Yuna standing a few paces away, a small bundle of herbs in her hands. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"I could ask you the same," he replied, his tone even.

Yuna smiled faintly and stepped closer. "I thought you might need these," she said, holding up the herbs. "For your wounds."

Makoto glanced at the bundle, then back at her. "You didn't have to trouble yourself."

"It's not trouble," she said, sitting down beside him. "You've been pushing yourself too hard. It's written all over your face."

Makoto smirked faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I suppose I can't hide much from you."

They sat in silence for a while, the garden's tranquility wrapping around them like a blanket. The moonlight reflected off the pond's surface, its beauty undisturbed.

"You're trying to form your core, aren't you?" Yuna asked softly.

Makoto nodded. "And failing. Something's missing, but I can't figure out what."

Yuna tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "Maybe you're trying too hard. My grandfather used to say that enlightenment comes when you're not looking for it-like fireflies in the night."

Her words lingered in the air, sinking into Makoto's mind. He said nothing, but a flicker of understanding sparked within him.

"Perhaps you're right," he admitted after a moment. "Sometimes, stepping back is the only way forward."

Yuna smiled, her gaze warm. "You'll figure it out, Makoto. You always do."

He turned to her, his eyes softening. "Thanks, Yuna."

They sat there a while longer, the night passing quietly around them. For the first time in days, Makoto felt a sense of peace-a small but significant step toward the clarity he sought.

As they rose to leave, Makoto glanced back at the pond, the stars reflected in its surface. The night had given him no answers, but it had offered something just as valuable: a reminder to be patient.

And as they walked back to the inn, the cool night air carried with it a sense of quiet determination.