Xavier had never liked classrooms, but at least this one didn't have rows of desks and a teacher droning on about test scores.
Instead, it had tatami flooring, wide open windows, and a chalkboard scarred by years of scribbled technique diagrams. A training dummy leaned half-crushed against the wall in the corner. There were no bells or lectures. No tests or grades.
Only power.
He stood at the edge of the room, hands in his pockets, trying not to let his nerves show as three students walked in—each of them radiating something sharp, alive, and heavy.
The first was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in black with short-cropped hair and a calm, unreadable expression. His gaze passed over Xavier without lingering, like he was measuring him already.
The second was a girl with short blue hair and a gaze like steel. She looked at him like she was already tired of him, arms crossed, chewing something with open annoyance.
The last was smaller, thinner, with soft features and glasses. His smile was faint but genuine, like he was trying to be polite even if he didn't know why.
Gojo clapped his hands once from the front of the room. "Alright, team. Say hello to our guest—Xavier. He's going to be sticking around for a while."
"Guest?" the girl muttered under her breath. "More like a stray dog."
"Now, now, Maki," Gojo said with a grin. "Play nice. He survived a Grade 2 curse with no cursed energy. That's got to count for something."
"Or he's lying," she said. "Could've had a weapon. A charm. Something."
Xavier didn't rise to it. He kept his posture relaxed, eyes drifting away as if the comment hadn't landed.
"I'm Toge," the boy with glasses said softly, giving a small bow.
Maki rolled her eyes and didn't introduce herself.
The tall boy didn't speak at all.
"Don't mind Panda," Gojo said, noticing Xavier's glance toward the silent one. "Yes, that's his name. No, I'm not joking. Yes, he's actually a panda. Don't worry about it."
Xavier blinked slowly.
"…What?"
Panda gave a low grunt that might've been a greeting.
Gojo grinned. "You'll get used to it. Or you won't. Either way, you're gonna be training with them when you're not being poked, prodded, or studied."
Xavier finally spoke, tone quiet. "Why?"
"Because sitting around and waiting for answers won't get you any closer to control. We need to see what you can do. And if you can't do anything… we need to know that too."
Maki scoffed. "This is a waste of time."
"It's above your paygrade," Gojo replied without missing a beat.
She looked like she wanted to argue but didn't.
Xavier shifted slightly, his fingers brushing the edge of his pants pocket. He didn't like the way they were all watching him like a wild animal in a zoo exhibit. He didn't belong here. Not really. And worse, he knew it. No cursed energy. No technique. No training. Just instinct and whatever that violent light inside him was.
He wasn't one of them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Still, Gojo had a way of making silence feel like a choice. After a long pause, he turned to Xavier.
"You're going to start slow. Meditation. Movement. Observation. We're not unlocking anything until we know you won't explode."
Xavier nodded, jaw tight.
"And if something happens—anything unusual, even if it's small—you write it down," Gojo said, tapping the notebook still tucked under Xavier's arm. "Dreams. Surges. Visions. Whatever."
"I've been writing," Xavier said. "It's just hard to know what counts."
"Everything counts," Gojo said. "We're tracking your unknown variable. Right now, you're Schrödinger's Sorcerer."
Xavier gave the smallest snort. "That supposed to be funny?"
"A little," Gojo said, already turning away. "Welcome to school."
Later that evening, Xavier sat cross-legged in the small courtyard garden behind the dormitory wing. It was quiet out here—just the wind rustling bamboo, the scent of moss and stone. His body still ached from the stretches Maki had forced him into. His arms burned from the wooden staff she'd made him hold steady for what felt like hours.
Not training. Just testing. Just seeing what he could take.
He opened his notebook and glanced over the last few entries. They were messy, half-coherent. Descriptions of a warmth under his skin, of strange pressure behind his eyes when he focused too hard, of vivid dreams where everything was gold and crumbling and peaceful and terrifying all at once.
Nothing solid. Nothing he could name.
He didn't know if that meant he was getting closer to understanding it—or further away.
He looked up at the sky. The clouds were thick, bleeding into the horizon. Somewhere out there, the world he came from was still spinning. But here, everything felt heavier. Like gravity worked harder.
He was alone in ways no one here could understand. Not just different. Displaced. Detached from the very fabric of the world he now breathed in. And no one knew.
No one could know.
Far from the school grounds, buried in a cave hidden within a collapsed stretch of forest, the crystal heart of the blessed womb pulsed again.
The cocoon was larger now—its glow richer, threads of light running through it like veins. Sacred energy radiated outward in small waves, subtle enough to go unnoticed unless you stood directly over it. The energy wasn't hostile. Not yet. But it was alive.
Within its core, something was forming. It didn't think. It didn't dream. But it felt. And what it felt most clearly was him—the one who had given it life. Its purpose coiled around him like a forgotten instinct.
One month.
That was all it needed.