It was Monday morning in Garlen, exactly six-thirty. A young tennis player was training against the machine at a high level, watched closely by the man who was supposed to be her coach. After missing just one return, the session came to a halt. As soon as the whistle blew, the blonde girl walked off the court, took a long sip of water, and sat down. The man approached her, saying:
"As always, Francesca, your backhand is impressive. But your stamina still needs work. Don't worry—with the time left before the next tournament, I'll make sure you're ready."
Francesca stood, pulled off her cap, and replied:
"Of course, Dad. As the daughter of a five-time world champion, I'll be more than ready."
With that, she changed out of her tennis outfit into simple athletic wear. They parted ways—the father heading to work, and the girl setting off on what seemed to be her morning jog.
At the central park, Francesca completed her eighth lap around the lake. Breathless, she checked the time: seven-thirty. She let herself enjoy the peace the place radiated, filling her lungs with fresh air. Exhaling hard, she was about to head home when something caught her attention.
A group of boys was running by, apparently late for something. Among them she noticed a thin boy her age, with tanned skin, sprinting alongside his friends.
Recognizing the uniforms, Francesca frowned. "The losers from Forte. That school's full of problem kids."
She resumed her jog but stopped again when she noticed a man standing near the lake. He wore a light-blue tracksuit top, black pants, and black sneakers with white stripes. Curious, she paused to observe him.
The stranger picked up a bundle of branches and snapped them into several pieces. Taking what looked like a fighting stance, he tossed the fragments into the air. Without missing a beat, he caught each one, guiding them as though the air itself obeyed him. With smooth, precise motions, he gathered them all together again, reforming the branches into their original shape.
One fragment slipped away, but without breaking concentration, he reached out and caught it, restoring the bundle. Then, just as suddenly, when he stopped moving, the pieces fell apart again, scattering at his feet.
Francesca stood in awe, mesmerized by his skill. She tried to get closer—but in that instant, he was gone. Vanished without a trace, leaving her with nothing but deep curiosity.
For a moment she forgot her training, lost in wonder at what she had just seen.