Chapter 17 – The Burden of Blooming
The moon hung heavy above the school like an open wound, casting pale light across Jujutsu High's training grounds. Petals shimmered faintly where they didn't belong—tiny white blossoms strewn across the dirt, clinging to the stones, blooming silently near the spot where Xavier had once collapsed.
He stood at the edge of it now, quiet, one hand in his coat pocket and the other hanging useless by his side. Something about the earth felt wrong. Not threatening—just off. Like stepping into a memory that hadn't been his.
Behind him, Keiko approached with hesitant steps. Her arms were crossed, not in defensiveness but restraint. She didn't want to break the stillness. It wasn't just silence—it was something else entirely.
"There's a weird pressure here," she murmured. "Like everything's… waiting."
Xavier didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on a darkened patch of soil, where something unseen pulsed faintly with each breath. The pain in his ribs had long faded. But now his chest ached in a different way—like grief that hadn't happened yet.
"I didn't mean to make this," he said finally.
Keiko tilted her head. "You think you did?"
He nodded. "It feels like it's… mine."
The atmosphere around them seemed to shiver. Not in temperature—but in presence. As though something were listening, stirred by recognition. A rustle in the wind carried the scent of lilies.
"I've been keeping track," Keiko said quietly. "Of when these… places appear. Only twice so far. Always after something happens with you."
Xavier frowned. "Something like what?"
"You get overwhelmed. Hurt. Or angry. Or both."
A long pause stretched between them.
Xavier exhaled through his nose. "So I'm some kind of… cursed battery."
"No," she said, sharp enough to surprise him. "Don't call yourself that. It's not cursed. The others might think so, but I don't."
He looked at her sideways. "Then what is it?"
Keiko didn't answer right away. Instead, she bent down and touched a single flower that had grown through the gravel. It didn't wilt. Her fingers trembled slightly.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But it doesn't feel evil."
That was the first time someone had said it aloud. Not strange. Not dangerous. Not threatening.
Just… not evil.
"Yaga's covering for you," she added, voice lower. "But the higher-ups are scared. They're not going to wait forever."
Xavier looked down at his hand. He'd woken up in this world with nothing—no context, no warning, and no idea what rules governed it. But this? Whatever was inside him didn't want to be quiet.
And neither did he anymore.
"I want to see the city," he said.
Keiko blinked. "What?"
"I want to see it," he repeated. "I need to know what's outside these walls. What this power does out there."
She looked stricken, then furious. "You're not authorized to leave. You know that. Yaga barely keeps you safe as it is. If the higher-ups even think you're planning—"
"They already think I'm dangerous," Xavier snapped. "I'm tired of hiding behind glass."
Keiko stepped closer, voice tight. "Then do it smart. Don't give them a reason to cut you down before you figure out who you are."
That stopped him. He didn't meet her eyes. His shoulders eased—but not with relief. It was resignation.
He didn't want to run. But something inside him was growing too fast to contain.
And deep within the training grounds, beneath that strange, pulsing soil, something else bloomed—slowly, unseen, not yet a spirit but not just a memory either.
Something was listening.
And it would not stay buried forever.