Jay's POV
Morning came too early.
The sky was still grey when Angelo shook my shoulder. "Up," he said quietly. "If you're serious, we start now."
Sleep clung to my eyes, but resolve sat heavier in my chest. I pulled on my hoodie and stepped outside. The air was cold enough to bite, the grass wet under my shoes. Behind the house stretched an empty field, ringed by trees, a few old crates stacked like a makeshift barrier.
Andrew, Mia and Drake were already there, shivering, half awake. Aries stood a little apart, arms folded, watching me with that new, fragile softness in his eyes.
Angelo held nothing at first. Just his voice.
"Rule number one," he said, gaze sweeping over us. "This is not a toy. It's not cool, it's not a game, and it's not a shortcut. If you're here to look tough, go back inside."
No one moved.
"Rule number two," he continued. "You respect it, or you walk away. Respect means listening, asking when you don't understand, and never—ever—pointing it at something you're not ready to lose."
My throat went dry at that, but I nodded.
Only then did he open the old metal case at his feet.
He didn't hand anything over. Instead, he talked us through every part—what it was called, what it did, where it was safe to touch and where it wasn't. His fingers were steady, movements slow and deliberate, like he was teaching us how to handle a wild animal without waking it.
"Safety first," he said, flicking a small switch and making sure we all saw. "Check. Double-check. You never trust it just because someone says it's safe. You confirm."
He made each of us repeat the steps with an unloaded one, his eyes sharp, catching every flinch, every mistake.
"Again," he told Andrew when his grip slipped.
"Again," to Mia when she forgot a step.
"Again," to me when my hands shook more than I wanted them to.
"I thought you said no ghosts," he murmured when he noticed.
"I'm fine," I muttered.
He held my gaze. "Being scared doesn't make you weak. Being careless does."
We went through stance next. Feet apart. Knees soft. Shoulders relaxed.
"Don't fight it with your whole body," Angelo said, nudging my elbow a little higher. "You control it, but you don't wrestle it. Think… anchor, not shield."
"Poetic," Drake commented under his breath.
"Shut up and adjust your feet," Angelo shot back.
Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at my lips.
Hours slipped by in a rhythm of instruction and repetition. Lift. Check. Breathe. Lower. He drilled it until the movements started to feel less alien, until my muscles remembered before my brain did.
Only when he was satisfied did he step back.
"All right," he said at last. "We try it for real. One at a time. No rushing. If I say stop, you stop."
The field had a line of battered cans and plastic bottles set up on a log. It looked almost silly from far away—until my heart started racing again.
"Jay first," Angelo decided.
Mia swallowed. "Why her?"
"Because she's the one who asked for this," he said simply.
My feet felt heavier than they had all morning as I walked up to the line. The world narrowed to my breath, the weight in my hands, Angelo's voice beside me.
"Check," he reminded.
I did. Safety. Chamber. Grip. Every step we'd practiced.
"Eyes on the target," he said. "Not your fear."
My pulse thundered in my ears. The can on the log wobbled slightly in the breeze, a tiny silver dot in the pale light. I exhaled slowly, trying to push everything else away—the memory of Keifer's blood, the panic, the helplessness that had clawed at my lungs that day.
Not again, I thought. Not if I can help it.
My finger hovered, then settled exactly where Angelo had taught me.
"Breathe out," he murmured. "Don't rush it."
The sound when I finally squeezed the trigger was louder than I expected, even with the ear protection Angelo had insisted on. My shoulder jerked; the shock ran straight through my bones.
The can flew backward off the log.
For a moment, no one spoke. The echo faded into the trees.
Then Andrew let out a low whistle. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."
Mia elbowed him. Drake just grinned, eyes wide. "Okay, that was kinda awesome."
I lowered my hands slowly, fingers tingling, heart still racing. Angelo stepped in, steadying the barrel, making sure it was pointed down and safe again before he took it from me.
"Not bad," he said, voice calm. But there was something proud in his eyes he didn't bother to hide.
Aries walked over, hands shoved into his pockets. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
I nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. I just… didn't think it would feel like that."
"Like what?" he asked.
"Like holding a choice," I said. "A really heavy one."
He was quiet for a second, then nodded. "Then maybe you're the right person to be holding it."
One by one, the others took their turns. Some missed completely. Some clipped the edges. Angelo corrected, explained, made us do it again. He never raised his voice, but he never softened the truth either.
"This," he said, when the sun was higher and our arms ached, "isn't power. It's responsibility. You remember that, or you walk away now."
Nobody moved.
At the end of the session, we were exhausted—physically, mentally—but there was a strange calm settling over me. Not because I suddenly felt strong, but because I finally felt… less helpless.
As we headed back toward the house, Angelo fell into step beside me.
"You still sure about this path?" he asked.
I looked at my hands, faintly trembling but steadying more with each step.
"I already chose this path," I said quietly. "And I'm not turning back."
He breathed out slowly. "Then I'll keep teaching you. But you listen to me, Jay. This doesn't make you invincible. It just makes your choices louder."
I thought of Keifer's laugh, the way his eyes had crinkled even when he was still pale from being hurt. I thought of Section E, of chaos and teasing and the way my heart had nearly stopped when I thought I'd lose him.
"Good," I said quietly. "Then I'll make sure they're worth hearing."
For the first time that day, Angelo smiled fully. "That's the Jay I remember."
And for just a second, between the weight of what we were learning and the ghosts he carried, the world felt almost steady.
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💫 A/N 💫
Wow… this chapter was a lot, huh? 🥺💔 From early‑morning training to Jay choosing her path for real, it felt heavy, raw, and a little bit powerful too. I really wanted you to feel every heartbeat, every doubt, and that quiet strength building inside her.
If this chapter made your chest ache even a tiny bit, or made you proud of Jay for not backing down, tell me all about it 🥹🫶 Your reactions and theories literally keep this story alive in my brain 24/7.
🎯 Target: 10+ comments — you know the drill, besties 💬
Drop anything:
your fave line or moment
what you think of Angelo as a mentor
how you feel about Jay saying she's not turning back 👀
or even just a "I'm here and I felt this" 💗
Thank you for reading, for feeling, and for staying with Jay on this messy, emotional journey. You guys are my comfort corner on the internet, and I'm so, so grateful for you 🌙✨
Until the next chapter — stay safe, stay soft, and remember: choosing your path is scary, but you're stronger than you think 💭💫
Love you always,
— Ishita 💕🖋️