HOLLOW – CHAPTER 25
— XAVIER'S POV —
"Again."
No shouting. Just the same command delivered with the same tone it always carried: direct, unfazed, and final.
Xavier stepped back into position. His stance wasn't perfect—he knew that—but he'd stopped caring about looking right and focused on being right. Knees bent, arms up, core tight. His breathing was steady. His arms burned.
The energy underneath his skin didn't buzz. It didn't build. It didn't want anything.
It just responded.
He drove forward, leading with his forearm. The strike hit center-mass on the reinforced post. A dull crack echoed in the space—clean contact. The reinforcement held. No feedback. No collapse. Just resistance met with structure.
He was getting there.
Yuki didn't flinch.
"You've got output," she said. "That's more than most. Doesn't mean anything if you can't apply it under pressure."
Xavier reset. No words.
He struck again—this time a hair too slow. His timing was off by half a second. He felt it immediately in his elbow.
"Late," Yuki said. "You reinforced after the hit."
"I know."
"Then fix it."
She tossed him a fresh roll of wrap. He caught it, retaped his hand, and went back to work.
"You're not learning to hit harder," she said, pacing behind him now. "You're learning not to waste what you have. Reinforcement isn't about strength. It's about not breaking."
He didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Again. And again. And again.
The repetition stripped out the questions. Left only motion and response. His energy obeyed the rules—followed intention, not instinct. When he got it right, the strikes were silent and sharp. When he missed, the dull pain up his wrist reminded him where the error was.
Eventually, she called a break.
Xavier stepped back, exhaling hard through his nose. His arms were numb. His shirt was soaked. But his hands were steady.
Yuki walked over, grabbed a bottle of water, and tossed it to him.
He caught it, cracked it open, drank.
Then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
She gave him a long look.
"Better," she said.
Then, just before turning back toward the stairwell—
"Oh—almost forgot."
She looked over her shoulder.
"What's your type?"
Xavier blinked.
"…What?"
"In women."
He stared.
Gojo snorted from his post by the door but stayed quiet.
Xavier didn't answer. He just kept looking at her.
Yuki grinned.
"Thought so."
She stretched her arms overhead, already walking off.
"Training starts again tomorrow. Try not to die."