Renzo sat cross-legged on the moss-covered ground, the canopy above swaying with a quiet rhythm. His eyes were half-lidded, his breath drawn slow and steady. Jack stood a few feet away, hands tucked behind his back, watching as Renzo's aura flickered faintly around him. The boy had learned Ten well enough to maintain it without effort, but the lesson today was different.
"Good," Jack said, his tone even. "You can hold your aura steady. Now let us begin the second principle. Zetsu. The art of shutting yourself away."
Renzo tilted his head. "Shutting away?"
"Yes," Jack answered. He moved closer, lowering himself onto a smooth stone so they were level. "Aura flows through you at all times, like the currents of the ocean. To close the flow is to vanish from the senses of others. To rest, to hide, to survive. For a fighter, Zetsu is both a shield and a burden."
Renzo frowned slightly. "A burden?"
Jack nodded. "When you close your aura, you hide. But you also leave yourself vulnerable. A sharp blade can pierce an undefended body. Remember that balance is everything. To use Zetsu is to trust your timing, your judgment, your will."
Renzo inhaled deeply. "So it is not just about power."
"No," Jack said, his eyes glinting. "Never just power."
Renzo placed his palms on his knees and closed his eyes again. He could feel the gentle pulse of aura flowing from his pores, like invisible warmth surrounding him. Slowly, he tried to pull it back, imagining himself tightening a valve, shutting the flow like closing a door.
For a moment, the warmth dimmed. Then it slipped free again, flaring brighter than before. Renzo clicked his tongue in frustration.
"Too forceful," Jack observed calmly. "You do not strangle the flow. You guide it, coax it. Like water in a stream diverted by stone."
Renzo tried again. This time he imagined his body as a house. The windows and doors open, wind blowing freely. To close them, he pictured shutters swinging inward, sealing tight. He focused.
The warmth dimmed. His skin felt cooler. The air pressed differently against him. The forest sounds sharpened.
Then the warmth slipped again, bursting outward as if in defiance. Renzo exhaled sharply. "Damn it."
Jack chuckled, not unkindly. "Good. You caught a glimpse. It will take time. Do not rush."
Renzo's brows knitted. He glanced at Jack, sweat dotting his forehead. "Jack… what is the goal of training this hard?"
The old man leaned back slightly, folding his arms. His expression grew thoughtful, shadows tracing the lines of his weathered face.
"Your question," Jack said softly, "is the question every student eventually asks." He looked up at the canopy, sunlight slipping through the leaves. "To train this hard is not for medals or glory. It is not even for survival alone. It is to know yourself without lies. To push until there is nothing left but truth. Gratitude. Enlightenment."
Renzo blinked, unsure. "Gratitude?"
"Yes." Jack's gaze sharpened. "Every breath you take is owed to the world. Every strike you throw leaves a mark. You must be grateful for the chance to train, to fight, to live. Otherwise, your strength will corrupt you. Without gratitude, Nen becomes poison."
Renzo stared at the ground, the words heavy in his chest. Gratitude. Enlightenment. They sounded almost foreign, but something in them resonated deeply, as if they struck the core of both his old and new lives.
Jack watched him carefully. "Do not mistake me for Netero or Wing or Bisky. I am not a genius. I am a craftsman. I shape students with patience, not brilliance. But what I give you is a foundation. Stand firm on it, and you will grow."
Renzo clenched his fists. "Then I will keep training. Even if it takes years."
"That is the spirit," Jack said, smiling faintly. "Now try again. This time, do not force. Flow with it."
Renzo nodded and closed his eyes once more. He exhaled, imagining shutters swinging closed again. The warmth dimmed, more smoothly this time. His heartbeat felt louder in the silence of his body. The forest seemed to hush.
Then, faintly, a twig snapped.
Renzo's eyes opened slightly, his concentration breaking. He glanced toward the trees at the edge of the clearing. The shadows shifted. For a moment he thought it was just an animal. But as he focused, he caught sight of something else.
A small figure, crouched low, watching from behind a thick trunk. Wild hair that caught the light, bright eyes that seemed too curious for their own good.
Gon.
Renzo blinked. He had seen the boy around the island before, chasing animals or fishing at the docks. But now he was here, in the forest, watching him train.
Jack followed Renzo's gaze, though his eyes did not betray surprise. "Ignore it," Jack said quietly. "Focus."
Renzo hesitated. "But he is watching."
"Let him," Jack replied, his voice steady. "A curious boy is no danger. Your focus is the true challenge."
Renzo exhaled slowly. He turned his attention back to the shutters in his mind, closing them again. The warmth dimmed, though less steadily than before. He felt his body lighten, as if he were half-vanished from the world.
The boy in the trees tilted his head, curiosity sparking brighter in his eyes.
Renzo could not help but smirk slightly. "He will not look away, will he?"
"Children rarely do," Jack said, his tone amused. "Finish your exercise. Then you may decide whether to speak with him or not."
Renzo shut his eyes once more. He tried again, and again. Each attempt steadied the flow a little more, though mistakes still pulled the warmth back into existence. Sweat streaked down his temple, his breathing heavier.
At last Jack raised a hand. "Enough. You are pushing too long. Zetsu requires patience. Overwork breeds only failure."
Renzo opened his eyes fully, panting. He glanced once more toward the tree line. The boy was still there, eyes wide, fascinated.
Jack stood, brushing off his knees. "Go home, Renzo. Eat. Rest. Gratitude before ambition."
Renzo nodded, rising to his feet. He took one last glance at the boy before turning away. The wild-haired child slipped behind the trunk, thinking himself hidden.
As Renzo walked, he whispered under his breath. "So that is Gon…"
The forest seemed quieter now, yet Renzo felt something had shifted. Training had always been between him and Jack. But now, a new set of eyes had entered the picture. Eyes filled not with discipline or philosophy, but with raw curiosity.
And Renzo knew that curiosity had the power to change everything.