Actually, maintaining "Nen" gathered around the body like this is really exhausting—an inappropriate analogy would be like exhaling through your nose, slowly letting the breath out, keeping air constantly flowing beneath your nostrils.
If "Nen" leaves the skin by even one micrometer, it will quickly become uncontrollable. To keep it from running wild, the only way is to forcefully imagine, with focused intent, that it always stays on the surface of the body.
—
The airflow starts to run chaotically and then rapidly dissipates.
—
See, even harder to control than aura is his own thoughts. Without him even noticing, his thoughts have already galloped away like an unbridled wild horse.
Kisho opened his eyes and then closed them again, entering the state of "Ten" for the thirteenth time.
Fortunately, this time compared to the last, "Ten" lasted another thirteen seconds longer.
...
When Chrollo returned to the room, it was already afternoon. He pushed open the door and saw that the layer of aura around the kid sitting on the floor had increased from 2 millimeters to 5 millimeters.
Just about as he had expected.
He used the kid's ability to create badges for the members to use, so he knew the amount of Nen required to make one badge. Comparing that to the maximum number of badges the kid said he could use in a day, the kid's current visible amount of Nen was only enough to maintain "Ten" at this thickness.
But this probably only accounted for a few dozen fractions of the aura used by those silver-blue eyes. Just the Nen attacks that filled the underground corridor that day required enough aura for this kid to make dozens of badges.
Chrollo increasingly wanted to find those silver-blue eyes.
On the other side, hearing the sound of the door opening—or rather, hearing the footsteps before the door opened—Kisho ended his meditation and looked up toward the door.
Chrollo stood by the doorway, completely still, but Kisho once again felt that icy, bone-piercing killing intent roaring toward him—far more terrifying than the previous time, a pitch-black, bottomless abyss that sought to crush him and then devour him.
"Ugh..." Kisho clenched his teeth and swallowed the faint whimper rising from his throat. The blood throughout his body almost seemed to flow backward, and the aura surged violently along with it, erupting from deeper within his body and enveloping him more densely in an indescribable way.
The sensation of being crushed weakened slightly.
And Chrollo slowly stepped toward him.
With each dull tap of leather shoes against the floor, Kisho uncontrollably curled up his body and uncontrollably wanted to retreat—but behind him was the wall. There was nowhere to retreat, nowhere to escape.
"Now you can try condensing 'Nen' into places in your body that are difficult to control, and then stand up. But if you can't continue to maintain 'Ten', you will die."
Chrollo's voice was very soft.
"If, by the time I reach you, you still can't stand up, I will kill you as well."
Kisho stared at him with wide eyes. In his gray-blue pupils was reflected Chrollo's figure, set against a background of fear so thick it couldn't be dissolved, and disbelief.
"Thump."
"Thump."
The sound of his heartbeat was exceptionally intense, reverberating against his eardrums. A drop of cold sweat slid down from Kisho's temple and then seemed to freeze in place at his jaw.
Something seemed to be burning in his widened eyes. "Aura" and "Nen" intertwined into a blazing wish—not to die, not to die like this. If he could stand up, at least he could... run? Even if he could at least try to run...
"Aura" gathered from all directions into his uncontrollable legs. For the first time, Kisho so vividly sensed the existence of this thing called "legs". He slowly twisted his body, fingers digging into the rough, uneven wall, little by little dragging his body along, little by little moving his trembling legs to support his precarious body. Finally, he stood up.
He panted heavily, using all the strength in his body to maintain balance. It felt like a dream, like an illusion. He... stood up? He really stood up on his own legs?
Kisho did not notice at all that the fingers digging into the wall had already sunk into it, nor did he notice that the pressure like a cold tide had already dissipated.
Chrollo stood in front of him, only one step away—yet did not continue forward.
A hand was placed on his head and rubbed lightly.
Kisho shuddered as if startled. He raised his head, gazing into those bottomless black eyes, and then heard him say:
"Qualified."
"Boss, sorry to interrupt—oh? The little guy can stand up now? Is this 'Ten'?"
The blond boy Shalnark's voice came from the doorway. He stood there holding a bag, filled to the brim with notebooks and pens.
He smiled.
"Looks like pretty decent 'Ten'. Did the boss teach him?"
Chrollo turned slightly to the side, one hand in his pocket.
"More or less."
"Oh wow, that's rare. The boss teaching someone Nen." Shalnark walked into the room and set the bag of pens and notebooks on the floor.
"By the way, boss, I'll be leaving the base for a while."
Chrollo:
"Sure. Just be back before the next operation starts."
Shalnark nodded, turned around and waved.
"The gathering time is the twenty-fourth of the month after next, February twenty-fourth. See you then, boss."
After Shalnark walked around the room once, the fear Kisho had accumulated toward Chrollo was finally diluted a little. He stood with his back against the wall, but even without that terrifying pressure anymore, his body remained tense.
"Maintain your 'Ten' properly, no matter what you're doing," Chrollo said softly. "Eating and sleeping are no exceptions."
Chrollo looked down at Kisho and said:
"You've also felt what 'Nen pressure' is. Only using Nen to resist Nen can reduce the damage. Being attacked by Nen pressure without any preparation will shatter you to pieces."
"So you must always be prepared to be attacked by Nen pressure."
"...But why?"
Kisho stared into Chrollo's eyes.
"Why teach me 'Nen'? Why force me to learn it this way? What if I can't do it?—Are you really going to kill me!"
Because the Phantom Troupe needs your ability, but it doesn't need useless people.
Chrollo answered seriously.
"In the future, your ability will allow the special assault team to be more effective, but right now you can't do that yet, so you need to become stronger as quickly as possible."
There was not the slightest hint of a joke in his black pupils.
"This is the fastest way—if you succeed, then naturally you won't have to die."
Kisho understood the unspoken implications in Chrollo's words.
Being repeatedly placed on the brink of life and death had already exhausted him mentally. The last taut string in his heart snapped at Chrollo's words, and anger condensed in Kisho's eyes.
"If I can't do it, that means I'm useless to you, and if I die, then so be it—is that how it is!"
His body was slammed heavily into the wall behind him. The back of his head seemed to hit something, and a ringing like hallucinations echoed in his brain, muddled and splitting with pain.
Only after his shoulder shattered did the pain register. The intense agony made Kisho's vision go black, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.
The boy collapsed to the floor, his left hand hanging limply at his side. He stared in disbelief at the calm black-haired young man before him, while the latter still stood in the original spot, showing not the slightest sign of having moved.
"Yes, that's right."
Chrollo said softly. He half-crouched down, drawing close to the boy sitting on the floor, the calm in his pitch-black eyes confronting the anger in the boy's eyes.
"But I did make one mistake. Before teaching you how to use 'Nen', I should have taught you the rules here first."
Chrollo spoke slowly.
"You can't yet be considered a true member, so just remember these two points."
His voice grew heavy, carrying an authority like a godfather chanting the Bible.
"First, the Troupe comes first. Betrayal is absolutely not allowed."
"Second, the boss's orders come first. So, my orders—you only need to obey them."
Kisho shouted angrily:
"I never agreed to join any Troupe!"
Before the words even fell, the searing pain from his right shoulder almost made Kisho black out. It hurt too much—even back when he had first opened his eyes in the box with all four limbs broken, it hadn't hurt this much...
Chrollo stood up.
"Refusal is invalid. I said the Troupe comes first. Your ability benefits the Troupe, so no matter what, you cannot leave."
He stared at the boy, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Unless you die—but are you willing?"
Kisho: "..."
It was as if all the strength had been drained from his body.
He wanted to live. That was why he chose to lie in bed for ten years, feeling his body rot bit by bit along with his wishes, rather than give himself release when his hands could still move at the beginning.
He wanted to live. That was why he endured filth and tainted blood soaking his body, endured the pitch-black wooden box, sitting inside it day after day, waiting for a sliver of hope that perhaps didn't even exist...
He wanted to live, so he dragged legs that hadn't been used for ten years and stood up again...
He wanted to live... He had finally gotten a new beginning; finally could see the world outside the window with his own eyes; finally could control his hands—he still hadn't played the songs he had composed countless times in his heart...
"If you have no objections, then let's continue."
Chrollo placed a book in front of Kisho.
"Let's start with learning the common language. First, learn listening and speaking—using Nen the whole time just to communicate with you is pretty tiring."
"Tip: while studying, don't forget to keep maintaining 'Ten' the entire time."