Chapter 3: Confrontation
Perspective: Kiyotaka Ayanokouji
The sun hadn't fully climbed through the window when I opened my eyes.I had slept. Not deeply, but enough. The sheets smelled faintly of dust swept with care.
I sat on the edge of the bed. The air was cold, but not unpleasant.
I stood. Splashed my face with freezing water from the small, rusted faucet.The mirror reflected an image I'd avoided looking at for years: eyes that observed without emotion, yet — for the first time — carried a question behind them.
What am I supposed to feel here?
Brushing my teeth. Checking my things. Folding the sheets.Those actions lived in me like reflexes, not thoughts.
I stepped outside.
Morning light in Jackson was different.Not like the gray hallways of Kōdo Ikusei Academy.This was softer. The shadows of trees stretched like lazy fingers. Smoke drifted gently from chimneys. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the wind.
A woman sweeping her porch waved at me.A boy in overalls walked by carrying a basket of eggs.A horse trotted past, pulling a cart stacked with firewood.
All of this… was real.
Tommy had mentioned the supply center was to the east. I headed that way, observing the small details — mended shoes, worn but clean clothes, tools handmade with patience.
At the center, they handed me new clothes: a flannel shirt, jeans, thick socks. They offered coffee.I accepted — out of curiosity more than need.
I drank it sitting on a wooden bench by the main street.
A couple argued over something trivial.Two old men played chess on a wobbly table.A little girl sat on the ground, teaching her younger brother to read — with a patience no one had ever taught me.
Why does all of this feel so distant… so foreign to me?
It's like watching humanity through glass.
Schedules in Jackson were written on a board near the center:
Community breakfast: 8:00 a.m.Patrol shifts: 10:00 a.m.Open workshops: 2:00 p.m.Communal dinner: 6:30 p.m.Suggested curfew: 9:00 p.m.
Everything ran not by strict authority, but by agreement.
I kept walking. At the stables, some young people were feeding the horses.One horse watched me closely. I approached and stroked its muzzle.
"This one's Poe," said a voice behind me.
An older woman stood there, hands marked with scars, but her eyes were calm and kind."He's stubborn, but he won't bite — not without a reason."
I nodded silently.
Even the horses here had names.
If I had been brought here as a child…Would I have learned to smile? To argue? To cry?
I looked down at my hands, moving them slowly.I wasn't created to live.I was designed to excel. To adapt. To win.
But here, no one wins.Here, people just… survive.
And me? Who am I when there's no demand to meet?No objective to achieve?
I remembered I had to speak with the leader of this place.
Time Skip.
The door closed behind me with a soft creak. The main house's interior was simple — clean, ordered, without luxury.
Maria sat at a table cluttered with papers and a half-finished cup of coffee. She looked up, lifting her brows slightly.
Her hair was streaked white with age, though some brown still glimmered through. Her face was lined but youthful in expression — a kind of enduring beauty.
"Kiyotaka, right?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Sit down. I don't bite."
I did as told. She studied me for a few seconds before speaking again.
"I heard you've been walking around town."
"A little."
"And? What do you think?"
I meant to answer neutrally, but what came out first was what I truly thought.
"Peaceful. In a good way."
She nodded, as if confirming something.
"That's what it tries to be. People here do what they can with what they have — and they protect it. Not because of rules, but because they've already lost everything once."
"Makes sense."
Maria crossed her arms, relaxed, like someone who spoke out of habit rather than duty.
"I don't know much about you. Tommy says you're quiet. Doesn't look like you're trouble… though, well — you never know."
"I didn't come to cause problems," I said. "Just needed somewhere to stay for a while. Jackson seems safe."
"It is. Because we make sure it stays that way."
A brief silence followed. Maria watched me — not interrogating, just measuring. Like someone deciding if a book is worth reading.
"What did you do before you got here?"
"Survived. Like everyone else."
She chuckled softly through her nose.
"Good answer. Vague, but useful."
I gave a slight shrug.
"There's not much to tell."
"Well, I'm not here to drag stories out of you. I just wanted to know you a little. New people make a difference here — for better or worse. I prefer to know who I can count on."
"I don't mind helping," I said. "As long as it doesn't require too much talking."
She smiled. "One of those who only speak when it's worth it?"
"Something like that."
"In a few minutes there's work at the Coordination Center. Training session."
"Alright. I'll go."
"And if you don't," she added with a half-smile, "I'll just know you're another quiet slacker."
"I'll try not to disappoint you."
Maria laughed, genuinely this time.
"I like you, Kiyotaka. You don't say much, but you don't sound fake either. That's rare."
I stood, understanding the conversation was over.
"Thanks for the coffee," I said — though none had been offered.
She smiled, as if getting the joke.
"See you tomorrow."
I left the house with a strange feeling. Not discomfort — something lighter.
Time Skip — 36 minutes later.
The Coordination Center smelled of old wood, metal, and dried sweat.At that hour, some were training with bows and knives, others doing drills under their instructors' gaze. I approached at an easy pace.
"Well, look who showed up," said Dina when she spotted me. "Get any sleep your first night here?"
"Enough."
"Good. Because today you'll be moving more than during that last patrol."
I nodded. Dina grinned, spinning on her heel toward a group gathered near an improvised sparring ring.
"Let's see how well you can defend yourself. Basic training — but since you look more put-together than a rookie, I'll test you against someone decent."
She whistled sharply.
"Ellie. You're up."
I heard her voice before I saw her.
"Again? You just love watching me kick people's asses, huh?"
She walked over, relaxed, a half-smile tugging her lips. Her jacket was unzipped, her eyes alert — confidence practically radiating from her.
"This is Kiyotaka," said Dina. "Needs a quick evaluation. Nothing fatal — just enough to sting."
"Hey," Ellie greeted, looking me up and down. "New?"
"Something like that."
She cracked her neck and knuckles.
"Alright, silent genius. Let's see what you've got."
We stood in the center, others pausing their drills to watch.Dina signaled with a hand gesture.
Ellie moved first — fast, direct.A feint with the right leg, sweep from the left. I leaned back, letting the strike cut air.
Countered with a light tap to her arm to throw her balance off.She laughed under her breath.
"Not bad…"
She spun, throwing a quick hook. I blocked with my forearm, pivoted on my right foot, and shoved her back with my shoulder — no harm done, just distance.
"You're holding back," she said, half-annoyed, half-amused.
"I can't deny that."
"Don't. Nobody here plays half-measure."
Her next charge was serious. Lower stance, direct grip attempt.I let her catch me — then used her momentum, turned, and sent her over with clean technique.She hit the ground, rolled, and stood again instantly.
The spectators murmured.Ellie spat to the side.
"Damn ninja," she muttered.
I changed stance.She noticed I wouldn't attack first. That seemed to irritate her.
She came at me with a straight punch.This time I didn't dodge. I blocked, stepped in, and twisted — flipping her again, pinning her lightly with a knee a few inches from her throat.
Didn't touch her. But it was enough.
"Point for the silent genius," Dina said, one brow raised.
I stood and offered Ellie my hand. She took it without hesitation, her expression a mix of respect and challenge.
"Fast hands," she said. "And not much of a talker. You're some kind of weird specimen."
"Not intentionally," I replied.
"Hm. I like you. But I want a rematch. Soon."
"Whenever you want."
We held each other's gaze for a moment.Not tension — recognition.
Ellie was still brushing dust from her shoulder when a voice called out from behind the crowd.
"I want to fight that guy."
Everyone turned.
A man walked toward us, hands in his pockets, a calm smile on his face — as if he'd suggested a card game, not a fight. His eyes carried something sharp beneath the calm: curiosity.
"Seriously?" Dina asked, crossing her arms. "Can't you stay still one morning, Jesse?"
The one now known as Jesse smiled faintly.Dark hair, neatly combed. He looked somewhat like me — but with a more Western air.
"I just want to see if it's me, or if this guy's actually special," he said, nodding toward me.
Ellie gave him a look, still catching her breath.
"Oh, he's special, alright. But go ahead — try."
Dina glanced at me; I gave a small nod.
We took our places again.The air thickened.Even those mid-exercise turned to watch. There was an odd kind of tension — as if something inevitable was about to happen.
Jesse raised his hands in a proper stance. He knew what he was doing.
"No pressure," he said with a grin. "Just looking to have a little fun."
"Alright."
And it began.
He came in fast — clean attack to the side, testing reflexes.I blocked, deflected, answered with a low kick — he jumped it easily.His technique was solid. Controlled. Well-practiced.
But not enough.
His next wave of strikes came faster, harder. I stepped back once.He was good — maybe one of the best here. Enough for me to raise my level just slightly.
I caught his next blow, turned under it, and slipped behind him. My arm hooked over his shoulder — one clean twist, and he hit the ground. He rolled, recovering fast.
I didn't wait.
Feint with my right leg, spin, and a short elbow strike straight to his chest.Not full force — but enough to knock the wind out of him, send him stumbling two steps back.
Before he could recover, I moved in again, slid behind, caught his arm, and locked him neatly — no excess, no harm.
He laughed, breathless. "Alright, alright… I give."
I released him. He turned to face me, eyes wide — not with anger, but with admiration.
"You're no rookie," he said, shaking his head. "Where the hell did you come from?"
I said nothing.
Around us, whispers had already begun.
"Did you see that?""Those movements…""He wasn't even trying…"
Ellie whistled, one brow raised.
"Definitely not your average guy."
Dina stepped closer, arms crossed, expression unreadable — half impressed, half wary.
"This guy's way too good for someone without a background," she said.
Jesse clapped a hand on my shoulder.
"You're a monster, man. Glad I didn't bet on this one."
"Good fight," I said simply.
He laughed, still dusting himself off.Ellie joined us, arms crossed, studying me again.
"Okay… now I really want to know," she said. "What's your name?"
"Kiyotaka."
"Cool," she muttered, glancing at Jesse. "And you said, what, 'Let's have a little fun'? Hilarious."
"Hey, it was fun," Jesse said, raising his hands. "Well, until it wasn't. You kicked my ass."
He looked at me, nodding.
"Jesse, by the way."
I returned the nod.
"Nice to meet you."
Ellie clicked her tongue.
"Ellie. And… good fight."
"Likewise," I replied — not warmly, but genuinely.