"Please tell me this is a joke."
I murmured to myself as I looked into the mirror. Blonde hair, brown eyes.
"Out of all of them, motherfucker. I had to possess this one. Like, why? What did I do to deserve this and that to in Jujutsu Kaisen? Why? Like, was my 2500-paragraph complaint to Gege that destructive that I am transmigrated into this motherfucker world? And why as Naoya? It's better to be a background character than this arrogant fucker," I said as I looked at the mirror.
I don't know how or why. But from the looks of it, I have come to Jujutsu Kaisen as Naoya Zenin. A character without a doubt hated by all the Jujutsu Kaisen fan base, except some crazy fucker.
And the most problematic thing was I am one of the Zenin. The shit household, which is destined to be massacred by Maki Zenin.
The saving grace of the current situation and my future was that I am transmigrated to Naoya's child body. So I somehow reform my character.
But the disgrace of the current situation is that as a hardcore JJK fan, I don't know a single thing about JJK, other than some famous techniques. Damn, I should have read the manga. Why didn't I read the manga?
The only thing I know is that Sukuna and Kenjaku were villains. Gojo will die. Maki will erase this family down to the last members. Mai will be the reason. And the most important one, this motherfucker was weak. Like when I see him fight against Yuji and Choso, I legit see -1 HP, -1 HP. The only thing good about him was speed was his tecqnie again 24 frames or something.
A sharp knock cut through my spiral of self-loathing.
"Naoya-sama."
I flinched.
Not because of the knock, but because of the honorific. My brain short-circuited for half a second as I turned toward the sliding door. A middle-aged woman knelt outside, head lowered, posture stiff with the kind of fear that only long-term employment under the Zenin could cultivate.
"Yes?" I replied, instinctively keeping my voice flat. Not arrogant. Not meek. Neutral. God, this was already exhausting.
"There is… a visitor," she said carefully. "From within the clan."
I narrowed my eyes. "Who?"
She hesitated.
And that hesitation told me everything.
"…Toji Zenin has entered the household."
For a full second, I just stared at her.
Then—
"…Huh?"
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
Toji. Zenin.
My brain immediately supplied the mental image: black shirt, scar across the mouth, dead fish eyes, zero cursed energy, maximum menace. The guy who treated sorcerers like loot piñatas. The man who quite literally kicked the entire Jujutsu Kaisen plot into motion by stabbing fate itself in the throat.
And he was… here?
I blinked once. Twice.
"…Why does that matter?" I asked, genuinely confused.
The servant's head snapped up slightly, shock flickering across her face before she forced it back down. "Naoya-sama… you instructed us. If Toji Zenin were ever to return, we were to inform you immediately."
Oh.
Oh no.
That was Naoya's doing.
I resisted the urge to facepalm.
Right. Of course the original owner of this body would obsess over Toji. The clan's greatest disgrace. A man born with no cursed energy who somehow still managed to humiliate generations of proud sorcerers. The walking insult to Zenin ideology.
"…I see," I said slowly, then nodded. "You may go."
She bowed deeply and retreated, leaving the corridor silent once more.
I exhaled and leaned back against the mirror frame.
So. Toji Zenin was in the household.
The main man.
The anomaly.
The guy who broke Gojo Satoru the first time and unknowingly set up half the disasters of the modern era.
And here I was—
Naoya Zenin.
Future sexist speed bump.
Currently in a child's body with zero clout and less-than-zero plot armor.
"…Might as well," I muttered.
If I were going to be stuck in this dumpster fire of a family, I might as well see the walking catalyst up close. The man who proved that cursed energy wasn't everything. The one variable the Zenin could never control.
I straightened my clothes—simple kimono, clean, understated. Child Naoya, not insufferable adult Naoya yet. Good. First impressions mattered, especially when the other party was a human murder weapon.
The walk through the estate felt surreal.
Zenin's grounds were massive, traditional, and suffocating. Every step carried the weight of hierarchy and decay. Servants bowed. Lesser clan members stiffened when they saw me. I could almost feel the arrogance baked into Naoya's blood trying to surface.
I shoved it down.
We turned a corner—and there he was.
Toji Zenin stood in the courtyard like he owned the place. Not sitting. Not bowing. Just standing there casually, hands in his pockets, posture loose, as if he were visiting a convenience store instead of the most elitist sorcerer clan in Japan.
He was staking out Aura farming in the middle of the Zenin middle ground.
No cursed energy.
None.
And yet, the air around him felt… wrong. Heavy. Like my instincts were screaming at me to keep my distance even though, technically, he was just a normal human.
His eyes flicked toward me the moment I entered.
Sharp. Assessing. Predatory.
There was no change in expression; he just looked down on me. Then, as if he lost interest, he just walked away.
"Oh god, Future Maki is going to just like him. I need to get close to Twins as soon as possible; even if this household is destroyed, at the very least, I need to rack up some points so she will spare me and Can't let Mai die also. I don't know who the fucker was that prayed for my downfall; I can say his prayer was answered."
~~~