The silence following Kurapika's demonstration was heavy, laden with the recent terror of imposed suffocation and awe at the revelation.
"YOU CRAZY BASTARD!" Leorio's shout shattered the calm. He lunged forward, hands outstretched to grab Kurapika's tunic collar, eyes bloodshot. "You could've KILLED us! What the hell were you thinking—?"
Kurapika dodged with unnerving ease, a simple shift of his torso. Leorio stumbled past, thrown off by his own momentum. "Kill?" Kurapika repeated, his calm clashing sharply with the aspiring doctor's fury. "No, Leorio. I showed you the line. The line between your will… and mine."
Killua was composed, though sweat on his brow betrayed his unease. "That was a cheap shot," he muttered, voice icy.
Gon, still seated, had wide eyes. He touched his neck, as if checking it worked again. There was no anger in him, only intense fascination mixed with respect. "That was… incredible, Kurapika!" he burst out, his budding enthusiasm cutting through the tension. "You really controlled our bodies? Just with your… will?"
Kurapika nodded, giving Gon a brief, appreciative glance. He turned to Leorio, still flushed with rage. "I didn't do it out of cruelty. I did it so you'd understand, deep in your bones, what true Nen is. Not just energy, not just a technique. It's this. The pure expression of a will so strong it forces its reality on the world. What you felt was a foreign will crushing yours." He met their gazes one by one. "Now you know what you need to forge: a will that can resist. That can impose."
A stifled chuckle came from near the dying fire. Celeste had sat up, abandoning her fake sleep. Her eyes, now wide, gleamed with keen curiosity and a hint of worry. "'Forge your will.' Pretty words, blondie. But how exactly? Do we sit cross-legged chanting 'I want, therefore I am'?" Her tone was sarcastic, but her gaze showed deep interest.
"Meditation has its place, Celeste," Kurapika admitted, turning to her. "But not like you think. It's about focus, pure intent. The traditional Nen method, with its four major principles—Ten, Zetsu, Ren, Hatsu—is a path. A long one, channeling energy step by step. But to me, it limits true understanding. It teaches you to use a tool without realizing the tool is an extension of yourself, of your deepest desire."
He crouched by the can of water and leaf, still on the ground. "This test… it categorizes. It boxes you in. 'You're Enhancement, so hit hard.' 'You're Manipulation, so control.'" He shook his head with fierce conviction. "That's a mistake. A convenient illusion for lazy teachers. Your affinity type shouldn't define your ability—it's your will, your burning desire, that should find its most natural expression in Nen, no matter what 'family' it borrows from."
He pointed at Leorio. "Your desire, Leorio? It's to heal, right? That should be the core of your Nen. Not some 'Transmutation' or 'Emission' label."
His gaze shifted to Killua. "You, Killua. Born an assassin. Your will was forged in fear, survival, lethal precision. But also…" Kurapika paused for a split second, "…in a newer desire for friendship, for freedom. Your Nen will spring from that conflict, that duality."
Finally, he looked at Gon. "And you, Gon. Your will is simple, pure, and terrifyingly powerful. Find your father. Protect your friends. It's a torrent. Let it flood everything in its path, in whatever form it chooses."
A respectful silence fell. Even Leorio seemed less angry, absorbed by Kurapika's words.
"That's all nice," Leorio grumbled, his earlier venom gone. "But we're still in a cave, in the middle of a test where we need a thousand points. And you want us to sit around 'forging our will'? How many days we got left? Four? Five?"
Kurapika flashed a smile, having anticipated this. "Time's tight, yes. But this training doesn't clash with hunting points. In fact, it's the opposite." He stood. "I'll handle the points. You focus on training."
He picked up a small, smooth, oval pebble by the fire's edge. "This object is lifeless. It has no will of its own. Your task is simple: project yours onto it."
Gon frowned. "Project our will? How?"
"Focus," Kurapika explained. "Look at the pebble. Really see it. Not with your physical eyes, but with your intent. Infuse it with your presence. With your desire for it to be more than a pebble. For you to be in it. Use the flow of your aura—that vapor you see now—as the vehicle for that intent. Don't try to shape it, don't aim for a specific effect. Just be in the pebble, through the force of your will."
He handed the pebble to Gon. "Try."
Gon took it with unusual gravity. He gripped it in his palm, closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, staring at the object with near-tangible intensity. The faint aura around him, the newly visible vapor, seemed to quiver slightly, gathering around his hand. Seconds passed. Nothing happened. Gon growled in frustration.
"Too much strain, Gon," Kurapika murmured. "Don't force it. Be. Let your intent flow, like water. You want the pebble to know you? Then let it feel your presence, simply, firmly."
Gon took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders. His gaze on the pebble softened, becoming less intense, more… present. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, the aura around his hand seemed to cling more to the pebble's surface, like a faint, warm glow.
"There!" Killua exclaimed, eyes sharp. "Did you see? It's… like the pebble's warming the air around it, just a bit."
Gon's eyes widened, a radiant smile lighting his face. "I felt it! Like a little… current!"
"Good," Kurapika approved. "That's the start. The pebble sensed your intent, your willful 'signature.' Now, Killua. Your turn."
Killua took the pebble from Gon. His expression was skeptical, but his gaze focused. He stared at the pebble, and his aura, more volatile than Gon's, gathered around his fingers. He wasn't aiming to warm. His assassin instincts took over: observe, analyze, control. His will took on that precise intent. The aura around the pebble didn't warm. It… vibrated. A rapid shimmer, almost a silent hum.
"Interesting," Kurapika commented. "You're seeking penetration, disruption. That's your nature. But remember: don't force the effect. Let your will find its form. The pebble vibrates because your intent to grasp its essence is sharp."
Leorio took the pebble next, grumbling. "Alright, the doctor's will. Healing." He examined the pebble like he was diagnosing it. His aura, rougher and more diffuse, enveloped the object. He focused, brows furrowed, likely trying to "imagine" the pebble healed of whatever. Nothing visible happened for a long time. Then, very subtly, the aura around the pebble seemed… steadier. Less erratic. As if Leorio's presence lent it a soothing inertia, a kind of balanced calm.
"You're stabilizing," Kurapika observed. "Your will for endurance, for maintaining a healthy state. It's there. Weak, but present."
Celeste had watched silently, engrossed. Kurapika turned to her, eyebrow raised. "Want to try?"
She hesitated, then shook her head, a cryptic smile on her lips. "No thanks, not ready for your baptism. I'll just watch for now. It's… educational." Her gaze briefly met Kurapika's, carrying an unspoken question: 'And your will, blondie? What's it really?'
Kurapika ignored the silent query. "Alright. You've all grasped the principle. Now practice. Each of you, find a small pebble. Focus. Project your presence. Not for a flashy effect, but for that minimal connection. When you can sustain that sense of 'presence' on the object for minutes without conscious effort, you've cleared the first step."
He let his companions scatter in the cave, searching for their own pebbles, immersed in unusual focus. Leorio muttered under his breath, Killua showed steely determination, Gon applied enthusiasm. Celeste watched, thoughtful.
Kurapika moved to the cave entrance, glancing outside where dawn was breaking, tinting the sky pearly gray.
Leorio was right. Time was short. Four days left. A thousand points to collect.
He turned back to the group. "Listen." They all looked up. "Your training doesn't stop here. Once this exam ends, we'll pick up again. Until then, you must keep your aura on your pebble constantly."
"WHAT?!" Leorio choked. "All the time? You're joking, right?! That means controlling our nen nonstop!"
"Exactly," Kurapika said, a near-cruel smile on his lips. "That's the whole point."
Gon's eyes lit up. "That'd be awesome!"
Killua smirked. "Keeping your nen controlled constantly will build your stamina, your focus." His gaze hardened. "No more running. You're stepping into the big leagues."
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