The blood was still warm on Kaien's hands.
He stared at them, long pale fingers trembling despite his efforts to still them. The coppery scent clung to his skin, seeping into the creases of his palms, sticky and impossible to ignore. His chest rose and fell, not from exertion—he had killed swiftly, just as Silva had ordered—but from something deeper. Something he couldn't name.
So this is it. Murder.
The memory replayed in his head: the target's eyes widening, a strangled gasp caught in their throat, the light fading as Kaien's blade slid free. His cousin Illumi would have said nothing, only observed. Silva would nod. Zeno would laugh softly, the way old men do when they see history repeating itself.
But Kaien couldn't stop the pounding in his veins. His vision still quivered with the imprint of the kill.
He had expected fear. He had expected guilt. What he found instead was… silence. A strange quiet in his mind, as though killing had opened a door and shut out all other noise.
The Zoldyck estate's northern training hall smelled faintly of incense and steel oil. Silva stood with arms folded, white hair tied back, eyes unreadable. His towering frame blocked out half the lantern light as Kaien knelt before him, blood still drying under his nails.
Zeno leaned against a pillar with that perpetual amused smirk, long mustache twitching. His sharp old eyes seemed to peel back Kaien's skull and read what lay beneath.
Illumi sat cross-legged near the wall, quiet as always. Shadows hid half his pale face, but Kaien could feel his cousin's gaze on him, heavy, probing.
"You completed the mission," Silva said at last. His voice was flat, but not dismissive. There was a weight in his words that pressed down on Kaien's shoulders.
"Yes, Father," Kaien replied. His own voice sounded strange to his ears—low, steady, but carrying a faint tremor he hadn't intended.
Silva studied him a long while, then inclined his head. "You didn't falter. That's more than most manage on their first kill."
Zeno chuckled, stroking his mustache. "Mmm, but look at his hands."
Kaien curled them into fists too late. His grandfather had already seen the tremor.
"Still shaking," Zeno said lightly. "Good. That means he feels it. We can sharpen that into instinct. A killer who doesn't feel anything is sloppy. A killer who feels too much dies. Balance, boy. Balance."
Kaien lowered his head. "Yes, Grandfather."
Illumi finally spoke, his tone soft and slow. "His aura flickered when he struck. I saw it. He doesn't even know how to keep it in yet, but it reacted."
Kaien's breath caught. Aura?
Silva nodded slightly, his massive arms still folded. "That's why you're here, Kaien. It's time you learn. Your body has been shaped for killing. Now we shape what flows through it."
The hall emptied until only Zeno remained. He beckoned Kaien with one long, bony finger.
"Come. Sit."
Kaien obeyed, legs folding under him on the tatami mat. His heart still raced from the mission, the phantom echo of his victim's last breath coiling in his ears.
Zeno crouched in front of him, surprisingly nimble for a man his age. He tapped Kaien's forehead. "Every living being has aura. Nen, we call it. Life force made manifest. Most never know it's there. But we Zoldycks… we cultivate it."
His hand shifted to press against Kaien's chest. "Tonight, when you killed, your aura stirred. The act of taking life calls it out in some. You'll learn to keep it, shape it, hide it, unleash it."
Kaien swallowed. "How?"
"Patience. We start with Ten—the foundation."
Zeno sat back and let his own aura bloom. It was subtle at first, then oppressive. Kaien felt as if the air itself had thickened, pressing down on him. His grandfather's aura wrapped him like invisible chains, seeping into his skin, heavy and suffocating.
Kaien's eyes widened. His own aura—wild, chaotic, untamed—flared in response. He hadn't even meant to, but it erupted from his skin in a faint shimmer, like heat rising from stone.
Zeno's smile deepened. "There it is. Rough. Leaking everywhere. Like a child bleeding out his strength. But it's there. Good."
Kaien clenched his teeth. The aura drained him, made his muscles ache as if he had sprinted miles.
"Focus," Zeno said. His voice grew sharp. "Pull it inward. Don't let it leak. Surround yourself with it. Imagine it wrapping around your skin, a second layer. Ten."
Kaien shut his eyes. He tried to imagine it: the wild energy seeping out of him, pulled back, tightened, wrapped around his body like a cloak. His arms trembled. His breath came harsh.
It's slipping—no, hold it—
The shimmer flickered, then steadied, thin but visible around his form.
Zeno chuckled, not unkindly. "Not bad for a first time. You'll hold it longer each day. You'll learn to suppress it until even hunters can't feel you. But for now, you've taken your first step."
Kaien opened his eyes, sweat dripping down his temples. The aura clung close to his skin, faint but there. He felt… stronger. Heavier. As if the world had weight and he could now feel it pressing back against him.
But under that strength was something darker. A part of him whispered: When you killed, this power awoke. Maybe it wants more blood.
He pushed the thought down.
That night, Kaien sat alone on the balcony of his quarters. The moon hung pale above Kukuroo Mountain, its cold light spilling across the stones. He flexed his hands again and again, watching the faint flicker of aura spark each time he willed it.
Illumi's voice drifted from the doorway. "You're shaking less now."
Kaien turned. His cousin leaned casually against the frame, long hair falling over his shoulders, expression unreadable.
"Does it ever stop?" Kaien asked before he could think better of it.
Illumi tilted his head. "The trembling?"
Kaien nodded.
Illumi's eyes were steady, unblinking. "No. You just learn to move with it."
He left without another word.
Kaien stared back at the moon, aura flickering faintly around him. His first kill behind him. His first step into Nen before him. The silence of death still echoed inside, but now there was something else too.
A door had opened. And there was no turning back.