Gon's mind snapped into focus in an instant, a wave of clarity washing over him as the boy charged.
His body moved on instinct, planting his feet firmly in the sand, grounding himself against the imminent threat.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, the familiar weight of the blade a reassuring presence in his hand.
He took a deep breath, feeling the pulse of his heart steady as his stance shifted, knees bending slightly, lowering his center of gravity, and angling his sword in preparation.
The blade hovered in front of him, a barrier between himself and the oncoming assault, ready to deflect or strike as needed.
Every muscle in his body coiled, taut like a drawn bowstring, as he awaited the boy's next move.
His gaze never left the attacker, eyes narrowing, scanning for any sign of the first strike.
He was ready, prepared to react in the blink of an eye, no matter what the boy threw at him.
