HOLLOW – CHAPTER 24
— XAVIER'S POV —
He didn't know what to call it yet, but he was starting to understand how it worked.
The energy didn't speak to him. It didn't guide him. It simply responded—if he was still enough to notice. That morning, while running drills alone, he had anchored himself to the quiet pressure that lived just beneath his skin. Now he was learning to push it outward—not far, not recklessly. Just enough to read the edges of the space around him.
That's when he felt them.
Not their steps. Not their voices. Their presence. Not because they were loud, but because they stood out against the baseline. Two signatures—neither cursed. Structured. Compressed. One moved with deliberate control. The other with practiced disinterest. Neither tried to hide.
He stood up from the mat, bare feet flat against the stone floor. The bunker groaned as it always did, metal and concrete settling like tired bones. He faced the stairwell before they arrived, not with hostility, but with awareness.
When the first shape appeared in the doorway—tall, lean, and blindfolded—Xavier didn't move. The second figure followed. She didn't wear robes. No uniform. Just boots, a jacket, and the posture of someone used to being in charge.
The woman spoke first. "You're awake," she said, more observation than greeting. "Good."
She stepped further in. He let her.
"My name's Yuki Tsukumo," she said. "I'm not here to test you, and I'm not here to drag you anywhere."
Her eyes didn't drift. They stayed on him.
"I'm here to see what you've taught yourself."
Xavier didn't answer right away. He didn't shift his stance, didn't break eye contact, but something in his posture changed—just enough to mark the line.
"You always show up uninvited?" he asked.
Yuki stopped a few feet from him, one brow raised. She didn't look insulted.
"Only when I think someone's worth the trip."
He didn't smile. "You think flattery makes this normal?"
"I think if I wanted control, I would've brought more people."
Gojo leaned against the wall now, still silent. Watching.
Xavier looked between them, then back at her. "So what is this? Another evaluation? Another quiet threat in plain clothes?"
"No," she said. "This is a check-in. That's it. You've done something the rest of us can't. I want to know how. And if you're willing—I'll show you how to do more."
The room held the pause between them.
Xavier's jaw clenched, just once.
He wasn't naive. Every polite offer had a hook. Every kind face eventually asked for a piece of him.
"You work for them?"
Yuki shook her head. "No. I've been ignoring their calls longer than you've been on their radar."
Xavier narrowed his eyes. "That supposed to earn trust?"
"No. Just honesty."
Yuki nodded once.
"Fair enough," she said. "Let's make it real."
Before he could ask what she meant, she moved.
Fast.
No cursed energy flare. No warning. Just a forward step and a low sweep—deliberate and fast enough to take him off his feet if he wasn't ready.
He reacted without thinking.
His body moved—foot bracing, spine turning, left arm snapping down to intercept the sweep—and something inside him caught.
Not light.
Not sound.
Just pressure, sudden and tight, like a rubber band pulled taut under his skin.
Her shin hit his forearm.
It should've hurt.
It didn't.
The impact thudded, but his bones held. His muscles didn't buckle. There was a dull vibration, like the energy inside him had moved to reinforce what needed to hold.
Yuki stepped back immediately, not smiling, but clearly watching every piece of his form.
"You felt that?" she asked.
Xavier didn't answer right away.
He flexed his fingers.
His arm felt fine. Strong, even. Not swollen with power. Just… functional. Like his body had known what to do before his brain caught up.
"Yeah," he said. "I felt it."
"Good," she said. "Then we start with that."
— YUKI'S POV —
He didn't brace the way trained sorcerers did. No stance. No calculated pivot. Just raw reaction, clean and fast—and the energy moved with him.
Not ahead of him.
Not after.
With.
Yuki kept her expression neutral, but her mind was already breaking it down.
He didn't summon it. Didn't coat himself. There was no conscious channeling, no breath cues, no directional focus. The energy ran parallel to muscle reflex, not above it.
That meant it wasn't technique.
It was instinctual reinforcement.
Which meant it had been happening longer than he realized.
She'd seen cursed users take years to build that kind of muscle-to-flow feedback. Most never got there without losing a few limbs first.
But this kid?
No domain.
No mentor.
And his body already understood how to protect itself better than half the people she'd taught.
That made him dangerous.
But more importantly—it made him trainable.
She crossed her arms.
"All right," she said. "Now let's see if it holds under pressure."
She let the silence stretch, then turned her back like the conversation was over.
Halfway to the exit, she paused.
"Oh—almost forgot."
She glanced back at him, eyebrow raised.
"What's your type?"
Xavier blinked, caught between suspicion and confusion. "…What?"
"Your type," she repeated. "In women."
Gojo snorted from the wall but said nothing.
Xavier didn't answer.
Didn't have to.
Yuki grinned like she'd just won something anyway.
"Thought so."
Then she gave a shrug, stretched her arms behind her head, and started walking again.
"Training starts tomorrow. Try not to die."