Late at night, in the spacious room where Jackson slept, he was currently playing video games with his friends from the gym.
"Hey, what am I doing with my life playing with you guys at three in the morning instead of sleeping?"
"Hey, idiot, show some respect—when we win the Five Districts Tournament without you, we'll make you feel proud to be our friend!" Liam quickly complained.
"That's right, we'll keep the title at home."
"What if you don't? I'll tell the coach to increase your routines." Jackson smiled as he said this to those who were now playing with him and, in a way, supporting him emotionally.
The friend he talked to the most was an old classmate he had at the martial arts school. Jackson met Liam when his master opened the martial arts school and, in a way, thanks to him, he entered the world of combat sports.
There was him, a few others, and a guy named Stuart, who was also very close to him. Without counting the rest, the three of them were the youngest trio in the gym.
"Winning that tournament without you means we're not too far behind you in skill. Sorry, but when you return, we'll be your new rivals."
"Yeah, we'll be better." Stuart was only joking; he knew that not even in his dreams could he defeat Jackson in a fair fight.
"What about the illegal tournaments?" Jackson asked a question that left them all silent.
"We're not getting involved in that."
"Yeah, without you those tournaments won't happen, and as for the adults' ones, we're not old enough to participate."
"All right, see you later…" Jackson shook his head as he hung up the call and took off his headphones. The first thing he did afterward was stretch his waist, and when he saw the time, he only murmured, "It's already time to sleep, I'll wake up half-dead tomorrow…"
Life during free days is always boring, especially for someone who knows nothing but how to fight. Jackson had dedicated himself only to that for all these years, so now that he was thinking of leaving it all behind, he didn't know what to do.
He wanted to continue his studies, at least now having the chance to do the same things but better than when he trained martial arts, so he obviously wouldn't waste it.
Jackson, who was getting ready to sleep, saw a bunch of news articles on his laptop, which made him open his tired eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing wrong.
"[College student sold a testicle for the sum of $35,000 to a private university just to buy a motorcycle he won't be able to use in the coming months!]"
Jackson's originally sleepy eyes narrowed when he read this, and he smiled. Seeing such a cheerful news piece immediately gave him a bit of energy, and he wondered if anyone else was buying any good testicles.
"For these same reasons, God gave us two organs except for the heart—that's the only one that's alone inside us…" Jackson continued watching TV ads until one of Daniel—his neighbor—popped up, the same man both his uncle and his sensei had told him about.
Thinking about this, he figured it was better to go to sleep.
…
Beep-beep! Beep-bee!
Jackson woke up at eleven, seven hours after falling asleep. After sitting up, he regained his senses and began his daily routine of washing his face and brushing his teeth.
After going out, being familiar with loneliness, he wasn't surprised.
"Well, I need to look for something to eat." After getting dressed, Jackson left the house as he was hungry. After that, he planned to meet with friends before senior year classes began.
Putting on his headphones, Jackson walked calmly down the street alone. He knew it was good to walk and take in some sun, because being locked up for a week might leave aftereffects later. However, the careless people, the numerous cars, and the indifference in their eyes made his calmness dissolve into a strange feeling.
At that moment, Jackson suddenly stopped. What he saw was a man half-lying on the ground. To be precise, he was a homeless man. It wasn't strange to find them on the street, much less in a bustling and materialistic city. Although Jackson lived in a quiet place, things like this could still happen from time to time.
No one cared about seeing a man with clothes torn to shreds—barely recognizable as clothes—and messy hair, lying on the street. To many, he looked like just another drug addict or simply someone who had made bad decisions in life.
The filth on his body couldn't be hidden. Feeling something indescribable, Jackson couldn't explain what he felt. He stopped and stared at him, trying to see through his bare eyes.
The eyes of the people walking down the street turned unpleasant when they saw this man they associated with yet another addict. Jackson wasn't far from him and stared at him. The homeless man noticed Jackson's gaze, which was different from the others, so he also looked back at him. Then Jackson finally discovered where that feeling came from—those eyes, so clear they seemed to reflect the entire world. His half-lying posture had a kind of presence everyone seemed to ignore, but it was an absolute reflection of freedom.
After a moment, the homeless man smiled, showing Jackson a meaningful smile. There was a sensitivity in his eyes. Jackson did this very often; he liked to read people, at least that's what he considered it.
Generally, you can see a person through their eyes. A person's eyes often reveal a lot of information most people don't understand. He analyzed them and classified them into groups; he knew how to talk to them and how to lead them where he wanted.
While he was still thinking, Jackson unknowingly approached.
"What's your name?" Jackson asked in a very simple tone, without sharing the contempt of the passersby, without condescendence, without a hint of sympathy or pity.
"Curiosity isn't a good thing, kid." The homeless man only said this sentence.
This sentence really left Jackson speechless for a moment.
"What do you want to know? Just my name?"
Jackson then didn't know what to say. He had come only because of that gaze and wanted to observe the homeless man more closely, so he didn't actually want to know anything. He slightly frowned when he heard the question. He didn't know what to say for a moment.
"Do you need help?" Jackson said after a while. Even he didn't know why he said that. Sympathy? He wasn't someone who felt that toward people—maybe only toward cats, but that was it. Jackson never presented himself as a guy who helped people out of pity; to his eyes, that would be a rude insult to others.
"I can't save myself, how could you help me? Ha, ha, ha." The homeless man suddenly looked up at the sky and laughed. The rough laughter made the people who were already staring speed up their pace.
Jackson turned around and left, not bothering to waste time continuing a boring verbal tangle.
Jackson frowned, thinking that today a free man treated him like an idiot. He couldn't help but shake his head and laugh at himself. After taking a few more steps, he completely ignored the last words of that person.
As he walked, a light rain suddenly fell from the sky. In this season of spring drought, spring rain was as precious as oil.
Because of the sudden drizzle, people's steps no longer seemed as slow and heavy as before. Walking faster generated body heat, and the rain was a refreshing curtain of life.
It's not easy to be normal among people. Jackson, who didn't hide his blind left eye and hadn't bothered to erase the scar around it, walked aimlessly.
Usually, he tied his hair in a ponytail; this was the usual way he dressed. He also liked wearing dark clothing and staying active all the time.
"Being selfish at times is positive." Jackson thought as he continued on his way.